For a moment after the Duke of Orleans had quitted the hall, Jacques
C[oe]ur and his young companion stood looking at each other in
silence; for the agitation which the prince had displayed was far
greater than persons in his rank usually suffered to appear. Those
were the days when strong passions lay concealed under calm exteriors,
and terrible deeds were often meditated and even executed under cover
of the most tranquil aspect.
"Come, Jean, my friend." said the merchant, at length; "let us go. We
must not pause here with these papers on the table."
As he spoke, he walked toward the door; but, before he quitted the
house, he sought diligently in the outer vestibule and the neighboring
rooms for some of the domestics. All seemed to be in confusion,
however, and though steps were heard moving about in various
directions, as if some general search were being made, several minutes
elapsed before even a page or a porter could be found. At length a boy
of about twelve years of age presented himself, and him Jacques
C[oe]ur directed, in a tone of authority, to place himself at the door
of the little hall, and neither to go in himself nor let any one enter
till he had an opportunity of letting the duke know that he had left
the papers he was writing on the table.
"Something has moved his highness very greatly," said Jacques C[oe]ur,
as he walked through the streets with his young companion. "He is not
usually so careless of what he writes."
"I have always heard him called the gay Duke of Orleans," said Jean
Charost, "and I certainly was surprised to find him so grave and
thoughtful."
"There are many ways of being thoughtful, my young friend," replied
the merchant, "and a light and smiling air, a playful fancy, and a
happy choice of words, with many persons--as has been the case with
the duke--conceal deep meaning and great strength of mind. He is,
indeed, one of the most thoughtful men in France. But his imagination
is somewhat too strong, and his passions, alas, stronger still. He is
frank, and noble, and generous, however--kind and forgiving; and I do
sincerely believe that he deeply regrets his faults, and condemns them
as much as any man in France. Many are the resolutions of reformation
that he makes; but still an ardent temperament, a light humor, and a
joyous spirit carries him away impulsively, and deeds are done, before
he well knows they are undertaken, which are bitterly repented
afterward."
Jacques C[oe]ur paused, and seemed to hesitate, as if he thought he
had almost gone too far with his young companion; but there were more
serious considerations pressing upon his mind at that moment than Jean
Charost, or even the Duke of Orleans, at all comprehended, though both
were affected by them. He was one of the most remarkable men of his
age; and although he had not at that time risen to the high point of
either honor or wealth which he afterward attained, he was in the high
road to distinction and to fortune--a road opened to him by no common
means. His vast and comprehensive mind perceived opportunities which
escaped the eyes of men more limited in intellect; his energetic and
persevering character enabled him to grasp and hold them; and,
together with these powers, so serviceable to any man in commercial or
political life, he possessed a still higher characteristic--a kindly
and a generous spirit, prompting to good deeds as well as to great
ones, always under the guidance of prudence and wisdom. He had,
moreover, that which I know not whether to call an art or a
quality--the capability of impressing almost all men with the truth of
his character. Few with whom he was brought in any close connection
doubted his judgment or his sincerity, and his true beneficence of
heart had the power of attaching others to him so strongly that even
persecution, sorrow, and misfortune could not break the bond.
In the present instance, he had two objects in view in placing Jean
Charost in the service of the Duke of Orleans; or, rather, he saw at
once that two objects might possibly be attained by that kind act. He
had provided, apparently, well and happily for a youth to whom he was
sincerely attached, and whom he could entirely trust, and he placed
near a prince for whom he had a great regard and some admiration,
notwithstanding all his faults, one whose character was likely to be
not without its influence, even upon a person far higher in station
and more brilliant as well as more experienced than himself.
Although he had full confidence in Jean Charost--although he knew that
there was an integrity of purpose, and a vigor of determination in the
youth, well fitted to stand all trials, he nevertheless thought that
some warning, some knowledge, at least of the circumstances in which
he was about to be placed, might be serviceable to himself, and give a
beneficial direction to any influence he might obtain with the duke.
To give this, was his object in turning the conversation at once to
the character of Louis of Orleans; but yet the natural delicacy of his
mind led him to hesitate, when touching upon the failings of his
princely friend. The higher purpose, however, predominated at length,
and he went boldly forward.
"It is necessary, Jean," he said, "to prepare you in some degree for
the scenes in which you will have to mingle, and especially to afford
you some information of the character of the prince you are about to
serve. I will mention no names, as there are people passing in the
street; but you will understand of whom I speak. He is habitually
licentious. The courts of kings are very generally depraved; and
impressions received in early life, however reason and religion may
fight against them at after periods, still leave a weak and assailable
point in the character not easily strengthened for resistance. Man's
heart is as a fortress, my young friend; a breach effected in the
walls of which is rarely, if ever, repaired with as much firmness as
at first. I do not wish to palliate his errors, for they are very
great, but merely to explain my anxiety to have good counsels near
him."
"It is very necessary, indeed, sir," replied Jean Charost, simply,
never dreaming that his counsels could be those to which Jacques
C[oe]ur alluded. "I have heard a good deal of the duke since we have
been here in Paris, and although all must love and admire his great
and noble qualities, yet it is sad to hear the tales men tell of him."
"Age and experience," replied Jacques C[oe]ur, "may have some effect;
nay, are already having an effect in rendering good resolutions
firmer, and the yielding to temptation less frequent. It is only
required now that some person having influence over him, and
constantly near him, should throw that influence into the scale of
right. I know not, my dear lad, whether you may or may not obtain
influence with him. He has promised me to treat you with all favor,
and to keep you as near his person as possible, and I feel quite sure
that if any opportunities occur of throwing in a word in favor of
virtue and good conduct, or of opposing vice and licentiousness, you
will not fail to seize it. I do not mean to instigate you to meddle in
the affairs of this prince, or to intrude counsels upon him. To do so
would be impertinent and wrong in one of your position; but he himself
may furnish opportunity. Consult you he will not; but converse with
you often, he probably will; and it is quite possible in a calm,
quiet, unobtrusive course, to set good counsel before him, without
appearing to advise, or pretending to meddle."
"I should fear," replied Jean Charost, "that he would converse very
little with a boy like me, certainly not attend much to my opinions."
"That will greatly depend upon the station you obtain in his
household," replied Jacques C[oe]ur. "If you are very much near his
person, I doubt not that he will. Those who give way to their passion,
Jean, and plunge into a sea of intrigue, are often in situations of
difficulty and anxiety, where they can find no counsel in their own
breasts, no comfort in their own hearts. It is then that they will fly
to any one who may happen to be near for help and resource. I only say
such things may happen, not that they will; but if they do, I trust to
you, Jean Charost, to use them to good purpose."
The conversation proceeded much in the same tone till they reached the
lodging of the merchant, and ascended once more to the small chamber
in which Jean Charost had been writing. By this time, according to the
notions of Jacques C[oe]ur, it was too late for any one to be out of
bed, and he and his young companion separated for the night. On the
following morning, however, when Jean descended to the counting-room,
or office, at an early hour, he found Jacques C[oe]ur already there,
and one or two of his servants with him. He heard orders given about
horses, and equipments of various kinds, before the great merchant
seemed aware of his presence. But when the servants were all
dispatched upon their various errands, Jacques turned and greeted him
kindly.
"Let us talk of a little business, my son," he said; "for in an hour's
time we shall have to part on our several ways; you to the Hôtel
d'Orleans, I back again to Bourges; for I am weary of this great city,
Jean, and besides, business calls me hence. Now let us, like good
merchants, reckon what it is I am in your debt."
"Nay, sir," answered Jean Charost, "it is I that am altogether in
yours; I do not mean alone for kindness, but even in mere money. I
have received more from you, I believe, than you promised to give me."
"More than the mere stipend, Jean," replied Jacques C[oe]ur; "but not
more than what was implied. I promised your mother, excellent lady,
God bless her, that I would give you a hundred crowns of the sun by
the year, and, moreover, whatever I found your assistance was worth to
me besides. I deal with it merely as a matter of account, Jean; and I
find that by the transactions with Genoa, partly carried on by
yourself in the last year, I have made a profit of sixteen per cent,
on invested money; on the business of Amalfi, transacted altogether by
yourself nineteen per cent.; on other business of a similar kind, with
which I and my ordinary clerks have had to do alone, an average of
fifteen per cent. Thus, in all affairs that you have dealt with, there
has been a gain over ordinary gains of somewhere between three and
four per cent. Now this surplus is to be divided between you and me,
according to my view of the case. I have looked into it closely, to do
justice to both, and I find that, as the transactions of this year
have been somewhat large, I am a debtor to you a sum of two thousand
seven hundred and forty-three crowns, two livres Parisis, and one
denier. There is a note of the account; I think you will find it
correct."
Poor Jean Charost was astonished and overcome. The small patrimony of
his father--just sufficient to maintain a man of gentle blood within
that narrow limit thronged with petty cares, usually called moderate
competence--a sort of myth, embellished by the poets--a kind of
economical Arcadia, in which that perfect happiness represented,
is as often found as the Arcadian shepherds and shepherdesses in
plum-colored velvet coats and pink ribbons are found in the real
pastoral--this small estate, I say, had been hypothecated to the
amount of three thousand crowns, to enable his father to serve and die
for his sovereign on the battle-field; and the great first object of
Jean Charost's ambition had been to enable his poor mother to pay off
a debt which, with its interest, was eating into the core of the
estate. Hitherto the prospect of success had seemed far, far away; he
had thought he could see it in the distance; but he had doubted, and
feared, and the long journey to travel had seemed to dim even the
sunrise of hope. But now the case was reversed; the prospect seemed
near, the object well-nigh attained, and for an instant or two he
could hardly believe his ears.
"Oh, sir," he exclaimed, after some murmured thanks, "take it to my
mother--take it all to my mother. It will make her heart leap for joy.
I shall want no money where I am going."
Jacques C[oe]ur gazed at him with the faint, rueful smile of age
listening to inexperience. "You will need more than you know, my good
youth," he answered. "Courts are very different places from merchant's
houses; and if great openings are there found, there are openings of
the purse likewise. But I know your object, my dear boy. It is a
worthy one, and you can gratify it to a certain extent, while you yet
retain the means of appearing as you should in the household of the
Duke of Orleans. I will take two thousand crowns to your mother. Then
only a thousand will remain to be paid upon the mortgage, which I will
discharge; and you shall repay me when your economy and your success,
in both of which I have great confidence, shall make it light for you
to do so."
Such was the kindly plan proposed by the merchant, and Jean Charost
acceded joyfully. It must not be denied that to be in possession of
seven hundred crowns seemed, in his young and untaught eyes, to put
him among the wealthy of the land. It must not be denied, either, that
the thought rose up of many things he wanted, of which he had never
much felt the want before. Among the rest, a horse seemed perfectly
indispensable but the kindness of Jacques C[oe]ur had beforehand
deprived him of all excuse for this not unreasonable expense. He found
that a fine horse, taken in payment of a debt from Spain, with bridle
and housings all complete, had been destined for his use by the great
merchant; and certainly well mounted, and, as he thought, well
equipped with all things, Jean Charost set out for the Hôtel
d'Orleans, at about half past eight o'clock, carrying a message from
Jacques C[oe]ur to the duke, to account for and excuse the sudden
departure of the merchant.