A TWOFOLD KNAVE
The constable left the king's presence buried in thought. Master Arnauld
du Thill put himself in his way, and accosted him in a low voice.
This took place in the grand gallery of the Louvre,
"Monseigneur, one word--"
"Who is it?" said the constable. "Ah, you, Arnauld? What do you want
with me? I am hardly in trim to listen to you to-day."
"Yes, I imagined," said Arnauld, "that Monseigneur was vexed by the turn
which the marriage project concerning Madame Diane and Monseigneur
François has taken."
"How did you know that, you rascal? But after all, what does it matter
who knows it? The wind is from a stormy quarter, and favors the Guises,
that is sure."
"But to-morrow it may be a fair wind for the Montmorencys," said the
spy; "and if there is none but the king against this marriage to-day,
why, he will be for it to-morrow. No, the fresh obstacle which bars our
way, Monseigneur, is a more serious one, and comes from another
quarter."
"And whence can come a more serious obstacle than the disapprobation or
even lukewarmness of the king?"
"From Madame d'Angoulême herself, for instance," replied Arnauld.
"You have scented something in that quarter, have you, my keen hound?"
said the constable, drawing nearer to him, and evidently becoming
interested.
"And how did Monseigneur suppose that I had passed the fortnight that
has elapsed?"
"True, it is a long while since I have heard a word of you."
"Neither directly nor indirectly, Monseigneur," replied Arnauld,
proudly; "and you, who used to reproach me for being mentioned rather
too often in the police-patrol reports, must confess, I think, that for
two weeks I have worked shrewdly and quietly."
"True again," said the constable; "and I have been surprised that I
haven't had to intervene to get you out of trouble, you varlet, who are
always drinking when you're not gambling, and rioting when you're not
fighting."
"And the troublesome hero of the last fifteen days has been not I,
Monseigneur, but a certain squire of the new captain of the Guards,
Vicomte d'Exmès, one Martin-Guerre."
"Yes, I remember now that Martin-Guerre's name has taken Arnauld du
Thill's place in the report that I have to examine every evening."
"For instance, who was picked up drunk by the watch the other night?"
asked Arnauld.
"Martin-Guerre."
"And who, after a quarrel at the gaming-table on account of dice found
to be cogged, struck with his sword the finest of the king's gendarmes?"
"Martin-Guerre again."
"And who only yesterday was taken in the act of trying to carry off the
wife of Master Gorju, the ironmonger?"
"Always this same Martin-Guerre," said the constable. "An abominable
rascal, to be sure. And his master, this Vicomte d'Exmès, whom I
instructed you to keep a sharp watch on, is not likely to be of much
more worth than he; for he upholds and defends him, and vows that his
squire is the mildest and most sedate of men."
"That is what you used to have the goodness to say of me, Monseigneur.
Martin-Guerre believes that he is possessed by the Devil, whereas in
truth it is I who possess him."
"What! What do you mean? You are not Satan, are you?" cried the
constable, crossing himself in his terror, for he was as ignorant as a
fool, and as superstitious as a monk.
Master Arnauld replied only with an infernal leer; but when he thought
he had alarmed Montmorency sufficiently, he said,--
"Oh, no, I am not the Devil, Monseigneur. To prove it to you and to
reassure you, I ask you to give me fifty pistoles. Now, if I were the
Devil, should I have any need of money, and couldn't I draw myself out
of all my scrapes with my tail?"
"That's true," said the constable; "and here are your fifty pistoles."
"Which I have well earned, Monseigneur, by gaining the confidence of
Vicomte d'Exmès; for although I am not the Devil, I am a bit of a
sorcerer, and have only to don a certain brown doublet, and draw on
certain yellow breeches, to make Vicomte d'Exmès speak to me as if I
were an old friend and a tried confidant."
"Hm! all this has a smack of the gallows," said the constable.
"Master Nostradamus, just from seeing me pass in the street, predicted
for me, after one glance at my face, that I should die between heaven
and earth. So I resign myself to my destiny, and devote it to your
interests, Monseigneur. To know that one is to be hung is a priceless
advantage. A man who is sure of meeting his end on the gallows, fears
nothing, not even the gallows themselves. To begin with, I have made
myself the double of Vicomte d'Exmès's squire. I told you that I would
accomplish miracles! Now, do you know, or can you guess, who this
viscount is?"
"_Parbleu_! a lawless partisan of the Guises."
"Better than that. The accepted lover of Madame de Castro."
"What's that you say, villain? How do you know that?"
"I am the viscount's confidant, as I told you. It is I who generally
carry his notes to the fair one, and bring back the reply. I am on the
best of terms with the lady's maid, who is astonished only to have so
changeable a lover,--bold as a page one day, and the next day as shy as
a nun. The viscount and Madame de Castro meet at the queen's levees
three times a week, and write every day. However, you may believe me or
not, their affection is absolutely pure. Upon my word, I should be
interested for them, if I were not interested for myself. They love each
other like cherubs, and have from childhood, so far as I can make out. I
have opened their letters now and then, and they have really moved me.
Madame Diane is jealous; and of whom, do you suppose, Monseigneur? Of
the queen! But she is altogether wrong, poor child. It may be that the
queen thinks about Monsieur d'Exmès--"
"Arnauld," the constable interposed, "you are a slanderer!"
"And that smile of yours is quite as slanderous as my words," replied
the blackguard. "I was saying that while it might well be that the queen
was thinking about the viscount, it is perfectly certain that the
viscount is not thinking about the queen. Their young loves are Arcadian
in their simplicity and perfectly irreproachable, and move me like a
gentle pastoral of ancient Rome or of the days of chivalry; and yet it
doesn't prevent me, God help me, from betraying them for fifty
pistoles, the poor little turtle-doves! But confess, Monseigneur, that
I was right in saying, as I did at first, that I have well earned those
same fifty pistoles."
"Indeed you have," said the constable; "but once more I ask you how you
have come to be so well informed?"
"Ah, Monseigneur, pardon me; that is my secret, which you may try to
guess if you choose, but which I certainly shall not disclose. Besides,
my means of information are of little consequence to you (for I alone am
responsible for them, after all) provided you attain your end. Now, your
end is to be informed as to all proceedings and plans which may tend to
injure you; and it seems to me that my revelation of to-day is not
unimportant, and may be of great use to you, Monseigneur."
"You are quite right, you rascal; but you must continue to play the spy
on this damned viscount."
"I will, Monseigneur; I am as devoted to you as I am to vice. You will
give me pistoles, and I will give you words, and we shall both be
content. Ah, there's some one coming into the gallery. A woman! The
devil! I must bid you adieu, Monseigneur."
"Who is it, pray?" asked the constable, whose sight was beginning to
fail.
"Good Lord! it's Madame de Castro herself, who is going to the king, no
doubt; and it is very important that she should not see me with you,
Monseigneur, although she wouldn't know me in this dress. She is coming
this way, and I must avoid her."
And he made his escape in the opposite direction from that in which
Diane was coming.
The constable hesitated a moment; then, making up his mind to satisfy
himself of the accuracy of Arnauld's report, he advanced boldly to meet
Madame d'Angoulême.
"Were you going to the king's closet, Madame?" said he.
"I was, Monsieur le Connétable."
"I am much afraid that you will not find his Majesty disposed to listen
to you, Madame," replied Montmorency, naturally alarmed at this step;
"and the serious news he has received--"
"Make this just the very most opportune moment for me, Monsieur."
"And against me, Madame, am I not right? For you have bitter enmity for
us."
"Alas, Monsieur le Connétable, I have no enmity against anybody in the
world."
"Have you really nothing in your heart but love?" asked De Montmorency,
in so meaning a tone that Diane Mushed and lowered her eyes. "And it is
on account of that love, no doubt, that you oppose the king's wishes and
the hopes of my son?"
Diane in her embarrassment held her peace.
"Arnauld has told me the truth," thought the constable; "and she does
love this handsome triumphal messenger of Monsieur de Guise."
"Monsieur le Connétable," Diane found strength to say at last, "my duty
calls upon me to yield obedience to the king, but I have the right to
implore my father."
"And so," said the constable, "you persist in going to find the king."
"Indeed I do."
"Oh, well! then I shall go and see Madame de Valentinois, Madame."
"As you please, Monsieur."
They bowed, and left the gallery by opposite doors; and as Diane entered
the king's closet, old Montmorency was ushered into the favorite's
apartments.