La Dame de Monsoreau (90 page)

And the tone of her voice contrasted with her words; the words were imperious, the voice was almost suppliant.

" You wish it ? " replied the Due d'Anjou, with a smile.

" Yes," said Catharine, " I wish it and I am ready to make any sacrifice to achieve this object."

" Ah ! " muttered Francois, " the devil you will! "

" Yes, my dear child, say what you want, what you require. Speak ! — command !"

" Oh! mother !" said Francois, almost embarrassed at a victory so complete that it left him no opportunity to act as an unrelenting conqueror.

" Listen, my son," began Catharine, in her most caressing voice, "you would not drown a kingdom in blood, would you ? Oh, that is not possible. You are neither a bad Frenchman nor a bad brother."

" My brother insulted me, madame f and I owe him nothing, either as my brother or my king."

" Put I, Franqois, I ! You have nothing to complain of in my regard ? "

" Yes, madame, for you abandoned me !" returned the duke, thinking that Bussy was still in his place and could hear him as before.

" Ah ! you wish to kill me, then ? " said Catharine, dejectedly. " Well, be it so! a mother had better die than live to witness her children murder each other."

It is hardly necessary to state that Catharine had not the least intention in the world of dying.

" Oh ! do not say that, madame, you break my heart ! " cried Franqois, whose heart was as intact as it had ever been.

Catharine burst into tears.

The duke took her hands in his and tried to calm her, but not without many an anxious look in the direction of the alcove.

" But what do you want ? " said she ; " at least, state your wishes, that we may know where we stand."

" What do you want of me yourself, mother ? Come, now, mother," said Francois; " speak out ; I am willing to listen."

" I want you to return to Paris, my dear child ; I want you to return to the court of the King, your brother, who will receive you with open arms."

" Ah! madame, I can see things clearly enough. I rather think that, if I took your advice, it is the Bastile and not my brother that would receive me with open arms."

" No, return, return, and upon my honor, upon my love as a mother, nay, I swear it upon the blood of Jesus Christ our Lord " — and here Catharine made the sign of the cross — " that you shall be received by the King as though you were king and he the Due d'Anjou."

The duke's eyes were fixed obstinately on the tapestry.

" Accept, my son," continued Catharine, " you shall receive

additional appanages; tell me, would you like to have guards ? "

" Oh, madarne, your son has given me guards already, guards of honor even, since those chosen by him were his four minions."

" Now, now, my son, do not answer me thus ; the guards he will give you shall be chosen by yourself, and their captain, should you desire it, shall be M. de Bussy."

The duke, staggered by this offer, which he thought must also have its effect on Bussy, looked again at the alcove, expecting, with some trepidation, to encounter the flaming eyes of his follower, who was certain to be gnashing his white teeth in his excitement.

But — wonder of wonders ! — Bussy was there, sure enough ; but Bussy smiling and joyous, Bussy nodding his head every second in approval.

" What does this mean ? " he asked ; " did Bussy favor a war only that he might become captain of my guards ? "

" Then," said he aloud, but as if communing with himself, " ought I to accept ? "

" Yes ! yes!" was Bussy's answer, given with hands and shoulders and head.

" In that case," continued the duke, " should I leave Anjou and return to Paris ? "

" Yes ! yes ! yes ! " went on Bussy, who was becoming more and more frantic in his gestures of assent.

" Why, my dear child," said Catharine, " you cannot find it very unpleasant to return to Paris ? "

" Upon my faith," said the duke to himself, " it's all a mystery. It was agreed between us that I should make no concession, and here now he 's all for peace and reconciliation."

" Well ! " asked Catharine, anxiously, " what is your answer ? "

" Mother," replied the duke, who desired to know Bussy's reason for backing out in this fashion, " I will reflect, and tomorrow "

" He surrenders," thought Catharine. " I have won the battle."

" After all," said the prince to himself, " perhaps Bussy is right."

And, with another embrace, mother and son separated.

CHAPTER LXIX.

HOW MONSOREAU OPENED AND SHUT HIS EYES AND OPENED THEM AGAIN, THEREBY PROVING HE WAS NOT DEAD.

SWEET it is to have a true friend, the sweeter because true friends are so rare.

So thought Remy as he galloped across the country on one of the best mounts in the prince's stables.

tfe would have liked to have taken Roland, but M. de Mon-soreau had a prior claim to the animal, and so he was forced to select another.

" I am very fond of M. de Bussy," said he to himself, " and I believe M. de Bussy is very fond of me also. The thought of this gives me such a pleasant sensation to-day that I feel as if I had happiness enough for two."

Then he added, after a deep respiration :

" Really, I 'm beginning to think my heart is no longer large enough for my body."

" And now," he continued, " in what style am I to address Madame Diane ?

" If she be ceremonious, solemn, gloomy : mute salutations, obsequious bows, a hand laid on the heart ; if she smile, I must make a leg, indulge in a few pirouettes, and execute a polonaise all by myself alone.

" If M. de Saint-Luc be still in the castle, of which I am in doubt, he will not object to a mild hurrah ; or a thanksgiving, in Latin, of course, might not be distasteful. I am rather inclined to think he will not suffer from lowness of spirits —

" Ah ! I 'm near the spot."

In fact, the horse, after turning to the left and then to the right, and after following the flowery lane with which we are acquainted, had entered the grove that stood in front of the Meridor park wall.

" What a profusion of beautiful poppies everywhere ! " said Remy. " That reminds me of our grand huntsman. Poor dear man ! I '11 wager the ones he fell on were not finer than these."

Remy came closer to the wall.

Suddenly his horse stopped, with nostrils distended and eyes staring fixedly.

Remy, who was going very fast, and was not expecting a

halt, had a very narrow escape from being thrown over the head of Mithridate.

For this was the name of the steed that had taken Roland's place.

Remy, who, from practice, had grown to be a fearless horseman, plunged his spurs deep into the animal's flanks ; but Mithridate did not budge ; he had doubtless got his name from the many points of resemblance between him and the stubborn king of Pontus.

Le Haudouin, in amazement, examined the ground to find out the obstacle that caused his horse to behave in such a manner ; all he saw was a wide pool of blood which the earth and the flowers were gradually drinking.

" Ah ! " he cried, " I wonder was it here that Saint-Luc ran Monsoreau through with his sword."

Remy raised his eyes and looked round him.

Ten yards away, under a clump of trees, he perceived two legs that seemed already stiff and a body that looked stiff er still.

The legs were stretched out to their full length; the body was lying against the wall.

" Ha! Monsoreau himself ! " muttered Remy. " Hie obiit Nimrod. Hum ! if the widow leaves him in this way to the ravens and vultures, it is a good sign for us. I rather think the accompaniment to my funeral oration will be the pirouettes, and I shall have to make a leg and dance the polonaise."

And Remy, after alighting, advanced a few steps in the direction of the body.

" Queer ! " said he, " the man is dead, dead as a herring, and he is here, while his blood is over yonder. Ah ! there is the track. He must have crawled hither from down there, or perhaps that good-natured Saint-Luc, who is charity itself, propped him up against the wall so that the blood might not fly to his head. Yes, that J s it, and so he died with his eyes open and without any distortion of his features. Yes ; he is dead, dead beyond yea or nay."

And Remy touched the wound with his finger.

Then he recoiled, struck dumb with horror : the two eyes which he had seen open closed, and a pallor more livid than that which had first struck him spread over the face before him.

Remy himself became almost as pale as Monsoreau, but, as

he was a doctor, that is to say, something of a materialist, he muttered, while scratching the end of his nose :

" Credere portentis 'mediocre. If he closed his eyes, he did so because he is n't dead."

And as, in spite of his materialism, the situation was disagreeable, and as the joints of his knees betrayed a greater weakness than was pleasant, he sat down, or rather dropped down, at the foot of the tree against which he was leaning, and found himself face to face with the corpse.

" I have read somewhere, I don't know very well where," said he, " of certain pulsatory phenomena which are really only evidence of the subsidence of matter ; in other words, of the beginning of corruption. This devil of a man must trouble us even after his death ! Yes, faith, his eyes are shut and shut fast, but yet the pallor has increased, chroma chloron, as Galen says; color albus, according to Cicero, who was a very clever orator. However, there is one way of ascertaining Avhether he is dead or whether he is not, and that is to give him six inches of my sword in the stomach ; if he does not move then, that will be proof positive he 's dead."

And Remy was preparing to make this charitable experiment — he had, in fact, his hand on his sword — when the eyes of Monsoreau opened anew. This second incident produced on Remy an effect quite different from that of the first. He jumped up as if moved by a spring, and a cold sweat bathed his forehead.

This time the eyes of the dead man remained wide open.

" He is not dead," murmured Remy, " he is not dead. Egad ! this is a pretty state of things for us!"

Then a thought naturally occurred to the young man.

" He is alive ; no doubt," said he, <« but if I kill him, he '11 be dead for sure."

And he stared at Monsoreau, who stared at him in turn with such terrified eyes that it almost seemed as if he could read what was passing through the physician's soul.

" Faugh ! " cried Remy, suddenly, " faugh ! what a hideous thought! God is my witness that, if he stood there before me, sword in hand and firm on his feet, I would kill him with the sincerest pleasure. But if I were to do so now when he is helpless and almost dead, it would be worse than a crime, it would be an infamy."

" Help ! " murmured Monsoreau, " help ! I am dying."

" Mordieu ! " said Remy, " my position is embarrassing. I am a doctor, and, consequently, it is my duty to succor my fellow-men when they need my aid. It is true this Monsoreau is so ugly that I might almost be justified in denying that he is a fellow-creature of mine, but he is of the same species, — genus homo. Well, well, I must forget that my name is Le Haudouin, Bussy's friend ; I must only remember that I am a physician."

" Help! " repeated the wounded man.

" I am here," said Remy.

" Go and get me a priest and a doctor."

" The doctor is found already, and perhaps he will enable you to do without the priest."

" Le Haudouin ! " murmured M. de Monsoreau, recognizing Remy, " by what chance "

As will be seen, M. de Monsoreau was still faithful to his character; even in his agony he showed distrust and asked questions.

Remy understood the full import of this inquiry.

This wood was no public thoroughfare, and no one was likely to be there except he had particular business ; the question was, then, almost natural.

" How came you here ? " asked Monsoreau anew, his suspicions lending him a little strength.

" Why," answered Le Haudouin, " because I met M. de Saint-Luc about three miles away."

" Ah ! my murderer," stammered Monsoreau, turning pale with anger as well as pain.

" He said to me : ' Remy, run to a part of the wood called the old thicket; there you will find a man dead.' ?;

" Dead ! " repeated Monsoreau.

" Hang it! he believed you were, so you need n't be angry with him for that; then I came, I saw, and you were conquered."

" And now tell me —you are speaking to a man, do not be afraid of speaking frankly — tell me am I mortally wounded ? "

" Ah, the devil ! you ask a question not so easily answered," said Remy. " However, I '11 try to do so ; let us see."

As we have said, the conscience of the doctor had got the better of the devotion of the friend.

Remy approached Monsoreau, then, and with all the usual precautions removed his cloak, doublet, and shirt.

The sword had penetrated the chest between the sixth and seventh ribs.

" Hum !" said Remy, " do you suffer much ? "

" Not in the breast, but in the back."

" Ah, let me see," asked Remy ; " in what part of the back ? "

" Below the shoulder-bone."

" The blade encountered a bone," observed Remy ; " hence the pain."

And he examined the spot where the count told him he suffered most.

" No," said the surgeon, " I was mistaken ; the sword encountered nothing, and passed clean through. Upon my word, about as pretty a thrust as I have ever seen. There is a real pleasure in patching up the wounds made by M. de Saint-Luc ; the sun actually shines through the hole he made in you, my dear M. de Monsoreau."