La Dame de Monsoreau (92 page)

" Monseigneur," said she, with a charming smile, " I am told your highness is passionately fond of flowers. If you come with me I will show you the loveliest flowers in all Anjou."

Francois gallantly offered her his arm.

" Where are you taking his highness, madame ?" asked Monsoreau, uneasily.

" Into the greenhouse, monsieur."

" Ah ! " cried Monsoreau. " Well, take me into the greenhouse, too."

"Egad!" said Kemy. "I think I did right not to kill him. God be thanked ! He 's sure to kill himself without help."

Diane smiled 011 Bussy in a way that promised wonders.

" Don't let M. de Monsoreau suspect," said she, in a whisper, " that you are going away from Anjou; leave the rest to me.''

" As you wish," answered Bussy.

And he went up to the prince, just as the litter of Monsoreau was turning round a clump of trees.

" Monseigneur," said he, " be careful; be particularly on your guard not to let Monsoreau know we are 011 the point of coming to terms."

« Why ? "

" Because he would, very likely, inform the queen mother of

our real intentions, with the view of making her his friend; and you may be pretty sure, if Madame Catharine is aware of our plans she won't be at all as generous in our regard as she is at present."

" You are right," said the duke. " So you distrust him ? "

" Distrust Monsoreau ? Well! what a question ! "

" Well, so do I. In fact, I believe that he gave out the report of his death to humbug us."

" Oh, no, I assure you ! Saint-Luc made a hole in him, beyond a doubt. That idiot Remy, who brought him to life, was quite certain at first that he was dead. In fact, he must have as many lives as a cat."

They were in front of the greenhouse.

Diane smiled on the duke more charmingly than ever.

The prince was the first to enter, then Diane. Monsoreau wished to follow; but, when his litter came to the threshold, it was evident it could not go in. The door was constructed in the ogival fashion, was long and high, but not wider than a good-sized trunk. Now, M. de Monsoreau's litter was six feet in width.

When the count perceived that the door was too narrow to admit his litter, he groaned.

Diane entered the greenhouse, utterly unmoved by the violent gestures of her husband.

Bussy, who was accustomed to read the young woman's heart through her eyes, understood perfectly the meaning of her smiles. He remained beside Monsoreau, and said, with perfect coolness:

" It's no use trying, M. le Comte; the door is too narrow, and you can never pass through it."

" Monseigneur ! monseigneur ! " cried Monsoreau, " do not enter that greenhouse; the exhalations from some of the plants are deadly, the perfumes of certain foreign flowers are poisonous. Monseigneur ! monseigneur ! "

But Francois was not listening; he forgot his customary prudence in his delight at feeling Diane's hand in his, and was soon lost in the flowery windings of the conservatory.

Bussy did his best to calm the impatience of Monsoreau ; but, notwithstanding his well-meant efforts, what might have been expected to happen happened; Monsoreau had an iron constitution, and could bear physical pain easily; but his mental agony got the better of him.

He fainted.

Kemy resumed all his authority over him ; he ordered the wounded man to be carried to his bedroom.

" What am I to do now ? " he asked Bussy.

" Oh, finish the task you began so well," answered the count; " stay with him and cure him."

Then he informed Diane of the accident that had happened to her husband.

Diane immediately left the duke and proceeded to the castle.

" JJave we succeeded ? " inquired Bussy, when she came near him.

" I think so," she answered; " in any case, do not go before you have seen Gertrude."

The duke's fondness for flowers only lasted as long as Diane was there to show them to him ; when she went away, he recollected Monsoreau's warnings and hurried out of the building.

Kibeirac, Antraguet, and Livarot followed him.

Meanwhile Diane had joined her husband. E-emy was holding a vial of smelling-salts to his nose, and the count soon opened his eyes.

His first impulse was to rise up violently ; Eemy, however, had foreseen the movement and held him firmly on the bed.

He uttered a groan of despair, but, looking round, he perceived Diane standing by his pillow.

" Ah ! it is you, madam e," said he ; "I am very glad to see you, as I wanted to tell you that we start for Paris to-night."

Remy protested loudly, but Monsoreau paid as little attention to Remy as if he had not been there at all.

" Surely you are not thinking of such a journey, monsieur ? " answered Diane, with her usual calmness, " and your wound ! "

" Madame," said the count, " the wound does not matter ; I would rather die on the roadside than suffer what I am suffering ; so we leave here to-night."

"Very well, monsieur; just as you please," replied Diane.

" This pleases me, then ; have the goodness to make your preparations for the journey."

" My preparations are soon made, monsieur ; but may I ask what is the cause of this sudden resolution ? "

" I will tell you, madame, when you have no more flowers to show the prince and when I have doors wide enough to allow litters to pass through them."

Diane bowed.

" But, madame " — said Remy.

" M. le Comte wishes it," she answered, " and my duty is to obey."

And Remy thought he noticed that the young woman made a sign to him to raise no further objections.

He kept silent, then, though not without grumbling.

" They '11 kill him as sure as fate," said he, " and then say it was the medicine that did the job ! "

During this time the Due d'Anjou was getting ready to leave Meridor.

He expressed, in the strongest terms, his gratitude to the baron for the reception that had been given him.

Just as he was mounting his horse, Gertrude made her appearance. She was sent, she said, to assure the duke that her mistress regretted very much she could not have the honor of bidding his highness adieu, but she was unable to leave her husband.

Then Gertrude whispered to Bussy that Diane was about to set out for Paris.

The prince and his attendants started for Angers.

Francois had all the whims and caprices natural to such a degenerate being.

If Diane had frowned upon him, he would not have cared particularly to remain in Anjou; but the smiles of Diane were a bait calculated to keep him in the province.

As he was in ignorance of the grand huntsman's resolution, he began to think, on his way back to the city, that perhaps he had been too hasty in complying with the wishes of the queen mother.

Bussy had foreseen this, and he had strong hopes that the duke would not quit Anjou.

" Listen, Bussy," said the prince, " I have been reflecting."

" On what, might I ask ? " inquired the young man.

" That it is not wise to give in at once to my mother."

" You are right; she is vain enough already of her diplomatic successes without that."

" And then, you see, if we keep the matter open for a week, and have receptions and gather the nobles of the province round us, we '11 show our mother how strong we are."

" Admirably reasoned, nionseigneur. Still, it seems to me that " —

" Oh, I will remain here a week; by doing so, I 'in sure to wring fresh concessions from my mother, you may take my word for it."

Bussy appeared to be in deep thought.

" Of course, monseigneur, I should like to see you wring all the concessions you can from her. But yet you had better see to it that your position be not injured, instead of bettered, by this delay. The King might" — -" Well, what about the King ? "

" ,The King, not being aware of your intentions, might get angry ; it is not hard to anger the King."

u You are right; I must send some one to do homage to the King in my name and inform him of my approaching return ; that will give me the week I need."

" Yes, but that ' some one' you speak of will run a great risk."

" In case I changed my resolution, eh ? " said the prince, with his evil smile.

" Which, in spite of your promise to your brother, you will change, if your interests demand it. Is not that true ? "

" Hum ! " muttered the prince.

" And then your ambassador is pretty sure to be sent to the Bastile! "

" We '11 give him a letter and not inform him of its contents."

" On the contrary, don't give him a letter, but tell him what he is to say."

" Why, if I did so, I could get nobody to undertake the mission! f)

" Oh, nonsense ! "

" You are acquainted with a man that would do so ? "

" Yes, I am acquainted with him."

" Who is he ? "

" Myself, monseigneur ! "

« You ? "

u Yes, I am rather fond of difficult negotiations."

" Bussy, my dear Bussy," cried the duke, «if you do that, I shall be eternally grateful to you."

Bussy smiled. He had had some experience of the prince's eternal gratitude.

The duke thought he was hesitating.

" I will give you ten thousand crowns for the expenses of your journey," he added.

" Not necessary, monseigneur," said Bussy, " such things are not paid for. You are too noble-minded to think they can be, are you not ? "

" Then you will start ? "

« Yes."

« For Paris ? "

" For Paris."

" And when ? "

" Faith, whenever you wish."

" The sooner the better."

" Yes, I think so."

« Well, then ? "

" To-night, if you wish."

" My brave Bussy! my dear Bussy ! Then you really consent ? "

" Of course I do. Why, monseigneur, you must be well aware by this time that I would go through fire and water to serve your highness. The thing is settled, then ! But you will stay here and enjoy yourself ; so you must get the queen mother to bestow some fat abbey or other on me."

" I have been thinking of doing so already."

" Then adieu, monseigneur."

" Adieu, Bussy - But do not forget one thing."

" What is it ? "

" To take leave of my mother."

" I shall do myself that honor."

And Bussy, brisker and happier than a schoolboy when the bell has rung for recreation, paid his farewell visit to Catharine and then prepared to depart as soon as the signal should come from Meridor.

But the signal did not come until the next morning. The count was so enfeebled after the scenes through which he had passed that even he himself felt the need of a night's repose.

About seven, however, the same groom that had brought Saint-Luc's letter to Bussy came to him with the tidings that, in spite of the old baron's tears, and in spite of E-emy's remonstrances, the count had set out in a litter for Paris, escorted by Diane, Gertrude, and Remy on horseback.

This litter was carried by eight men, who were relieved by others every three miles.

Bussy delayed no longer than to listen to the news ; he jumped on a horse that had been saddled the previous evening and galloped along the road taken by Monsoreau.

CHAPTER LXXII.

HOW THE KING RECEIVED SAINT-LUC WHEN HE APPEARED AT COURT.

WHATEVER confidence the King may have had in the ambassador he had sent to Anjou, he was as zealous as ever in taking measures to meet the attacks of his brother.

He knew by experience what was the ruling passion in his family, and he knew, too, what he had to expect from a pretender to the crown, the very novelty of whose claims would give him an advantage over its legitimate but weary and effete possessor.

He found a sort of dismal amusement, somewhat after the fashion of Tiberius, in drawing up, with the aid of Chicot, long lists of proscriptions, in which were inscribed in alphabetical order all those whom he supposed unfriendly to the royal cause.

These lists grew longer every day.

And whenever the King came to an S and an L, his majesty was sure to write down the name of Saint-Luc, which thus appeared several times on his muster roll.

Moreover, the King's resentment was stimulated by the perfidious allusions and insinuations of the courtiers, and especially by their denunciations of Saint-Luc's flight to Anjou, a flight which became treasonable on the day when the duke, himself a fugitive, had started for that province.

In fact, should not Saint-Luc, after he had arrived at Meridor, be considered as simply the Due d'Anjou's quartermaster, sent in advance of the prince to prepare lodgings for him at Angers ?

In the midst of all this agitation and commotion, the way in which Chicot encouraged the minions to sharpen their rapiers and daggers, so as to have them in the best condition for stabbing and cutting down his most Christian Majesty's enemies, was a magnificent spectacle.

And the magnificence of the spectacle was not lessened by the fact that while the Gascon evidently wished it to be thought that he was simply the fly on the coach, he was really playing a far more serious part.

Little by little, and, so to speak, man by man, he was engaged all the time in enrolling an army for the King.

One afternoon when the King was supping with the Queen, whose society he sought frequently in times of political peril, Chicot entered suddenly, walking with arms and legs distended to the utmost, like a puppet on wires.

" Ugh ! " said he.

" What ? " asked the King.

" M. de Saint-Luc," answered Chicot.

" M. de Saint-Luc ? " exclaimed Henri.

« Yes."

" In Paris ? "

« Yes."

" In the Louvre ? "