MADEMOISELLE
In the morning of the following day we were engaged about a business
which troubled me no little. Had it not been for Jerome I fear I had
never come through it at all with credit.
First, we repaired to another house which Jerome possessed in a more
fashionable quarter, and thither by his directions came a fawning swarm
of tailors, boot-makers, barbers, wig-makers; vendors of silken hose
and men with laces, jaunty caps, perfumes--it was a huge task, this
making a gentlemen of me--as Jerome phrased it.
I worried over it grievously in the beginning, but at length sullenly
delivered myself into his hands, murmuring an abject prayer for the
salvation of my soul. That, at least, was not to be remodeled by all
their fashionable garniture. These heated discussions concerning what
I was to wear were not for me to put a voice in. Verily, I knew
nothing and cared naught for the cut of a shoe my Lord of Orleans had
made the style, nor did it matter whether my coat was slashed with
crimson or braided with golden furbelows. Like some wretch a-quivering
of the palsy I heard the learned doctors wrangling over my medicine,
which they must needs hold my nose to make me swallow. For all their
biases and twistings I knew full well they could carve no sprig of
fashion from so rough a block as I. Certes, I must now have a squire
to fasten this new harness well upon me, for by my word, I knew not one
garment from the other by sight of it. Jerome went off into fits of
laughter seeing me trying to struggle into things I could not even
guess the use of.
When the worst was over, late in the afternoon, I felt like a
play-actor, dressed for his part, but who, for the life of him, could
not recall one syllable of his speech, nor breathe because of his wig.
Jerome surveyed me with a half-critical, half-approving scrutiny, until
I essayed to buckle on my sword.
"By my lady, fine sir, that dingy old cutlass will never do for a
drawing-room. As well a miller's dusty cap to cover those glorious
borrowed curls of thine; we must get thee one shaped in the mode."
This quip exterminated my patience.
"To the foul fiend with all this everlasting style of thine. I know
this blade, have tested it on many fields, and by all the gods at once
I'll not replace it with a silly toy."
"A most virtuous resolution, a most godly oath, but my mettlesome
friend, I'll point out thy error."
To his insinuating argument, even in this matter, at length I yielded;
surrendered with the better grace perhaps, that he provided a most
excellent piece of steel, which he said had seen good service. I tried
its temper, and the edge being keen, I laid my own aside with sore
misdoubtings, casting off an old friend to strap on a new. He now
added a touch of rouge here and there, a black line to my brows and in
the corners of my eyes, stepping back ever and anon to observe the
effect. It galled me raw, yet I must perforce submit. When the whole
job was finished, and I was allowed to sit, I gained no comfort. My
clothes were too tight in some places, while in others I rocked about
as loose as a washerwoman's arm in her scrubbing tub.
Jerome must now give me some lessons in deportment, he called it. It
was but another name for a smirking and a-bowing and a-grimacing, what
was denominated the "etiquette of the court." Jerome sat himself
contented down, and put me through my paces like some farrier showing
off a foundered nag. I more than half believed he was all the while
making game of me, yet I knew no better. At any rate it was the
veriest nonsense.
After a series of rehearsals Jerome withdrew to make himself ready,
leaving me to practice my new acquirements of gait, of gesture, and of
speech. What had taken me the better part of a laborious day he
accomplished in a short half hour. Coming back unannounced he caught
me bowing and scraping before a mirror, like a man stricken with
idiocy. I felt as shamed as though I had been detected hiding in face
of the enemy.
Jerome mocked and taunted me into a fine rage, which he deftly pacified
in wonderment at himself. I should never have known him again for the
plain Jerome. Arrayed in much the same character of finery which
bedecked me, I could give no accurate description of his dress, except
that with glossy wig and a bit of color in his cheeks he strutted
valiantly as a crowing cock in his own barnyard.
"Come, Placide, we are going to a ball; we can do nothing in our quest
to-night."
"To a what?"
"A ball. I thought it might be well to have you look in upon Madame
M--'s and recite your lessons. It is to be a famous gathering and well
worth your seeing."
I was in a whirl, a stupor, by this time, and obeyed implicitly;
beside, it required such an infinite skill to keep my sword from
swinging between my legs and throwing me down, I had no time to
consider of minor matters. He led the way and I followed meekly as a
lap-dog.
At the great entrance gate we became entangled in a medley of soldiers,
coachmen, torch-bearers and servants coming and going--such a babel of
strange oaths--I wished I were safe again in the quiet of Biloxi. I
pleaded with Jerome to turn again, but he was inexorable.
"I expect to find out something to-night," he explained.
Of this ball I remember nothing but that the slippery floor, in which a
man could see his own face, kept me in deadly fear lest my sword trip
me. Jerome was gay and talkative, pointing out many people of whom I
had heard, but they did not look so great after all.
"For sake of heaven man, wear not so long a face; it is not the funeral
of thy mistress I have brought thee to."
I marveled that so many old ladies should carry such young faces or
perchance their hair had turned gray earlier than was its wont in the
colonies. And, too, they seemed sadly disfigured with boils, for on
the chin or cheek of nearly every one there showed a patch of black
sticking-plaster. Poor things! I sorrowed for them, it was so
humiliating. Verily, I pitied them all, and speculated on the
wonderful compensations of Providence. With all their wealth and rank,
their lordly castles and their jewels, these noble dames could not
purchase that which the humblest serving-maid in Quebec had, and to
spare--a clear skin and sunny locks.
I touched upon these matters to Jerome, but he only laughed
immoderately. He was ever a light-headed young spark who gave no
contemplation to deeper questions than present enjoyment.
Of a sudden my wits almost left me at a terrible outcry from one end of
the great hall, a cry not of human beings but of wild beasts, muffled
and menacing. The dancing, the music, the hum of voices ceased, and a
thick silence as of direst fear fell upon them all. Then there came a
loud crackling and shattering of glass, a woman's scream, the first of
very many. This for aught I know might have been a usual happening at
a ball, I had never been to one before.
I looked for Jerome. He was gone, speeding toward a young lady
surpassing fair, with whom he had been speaking but a few moments
since. I fain would have assisted him, for the damsel appeared wofully
beset, but the whole throng of mincing lords and screaming ladies, in
the rankest riot, over-ran me. They swept me from my feet and bore me
back to the farthest wall, where I found myself pinned tight and fast
against a window.
What the danger was I could not see, but it must have been dolorous
from the headlong terror of their flight. Soon by the thinning of the
crowd through the doors I saw the cause. It was a motley and a moving
spectacle. For by some mischance a flock of sheep had broken into the
ball-room, and frightened out of their shallow senses by the lights and
music, they rushed pell-mell here and there, upsetting without
discrimination whatever stood in their path.
Verily such an onset would do brave work against an enemies' ranks, for
could our knights but make a gap like that, an army of children might
march through unhindered. All went down alike before their charge, my
lord and my lady, the Prince of the Blood, and the humblest page who
bore his pouncet box. Such a slipping and a sliding across a floor
slickened with much wax and polishing, was never in a ball room before,
nor ever was again. One old ram regarded each mirror as a certain
avenue of escape, and the radiating fracture of each taught him no
greater wisdom concerning the others.
Standing spellbound as a statue in the midst of the ruins, I caught
sight of a florid, rotund lady, speechless in her horror and her misery.
"The Duchess does not enjoy her quaint surprise," laughed a light voice
behind me, and a slim finger directed my gaze toward the lady whom I
had just noted.
I observed then at my back, standing upon a chair where she could see
the better, a young woman of distinguished appearance, rather more
plainly attired than the balance. She appeared greatly to enjoy the
confusion.
"That is the reward for her romantic and pastoral tastes," and she
laughed till the tears dripped down her cheeks. Her hair was still
black, and neither paint nor sticking plaster marred the whiteness of
her skin. I asked no questions, but regarded more closely this young
woman with whom I now drifted naturally into conversation. Her manners
were strikingly free and unconstrained. There was, however, an air of
reserve, of dignity--of majesty even---about her, despite her
frankness, which forbade anything but the utmost deference.
"Does my lord understand--that?" and she pointed her finger to the
servants who were chasing and capturing the refractory sheep one by one.
I shook my head, for, in all seriousness, it was a queer proceeding.
"Well it's too merry a jest to keep long a secret. Beside I'm weary of
these eternal shackles of court which forbid me to speak to those whom
I please." A certain defiance gave an undercurrent of sadness to her
voice, a mounting rebellion to her tone.
"And I _will_ talk if I want to; there's no harm, is there?"
I gravely assured her not, and wondered what was coming.
"Well, you see," she dried her eyes on a handkerchief of costliest
lace, "you see my--that is, the Duchess, is of such a romantic
temperament, so enamoured of rural scenes, idyllic meadows, pretty
shepherdesses, and the like--all the court makes merry at her foible.
She thought to astonish Paris to-night by a lavish display of sweet
simplicity--did Monsieur see it? That big dark place back there,
behind the glass partition, was arranged as a meadow, with a stream
winding through it, and rocks and trees, and what not. She had a flock
of sheep washed clean and white, penned up and in waiting. At a signal
from her during the ball, lights were to have been turned on, and
Mademoiselle, the pretty opera singer, was to come gracefully down a
curving pathway, dressed as a shepherdess, singing and leading her
sheep. Oh, it was to be too pure for this earth. The Duchess fretted
for the opportune time. But the sheep escaped from their keepers, and,
oh, isn't it too ludicrous?"
Thus she chattered on with the naive freedom of any other young
demoiselle. I agreed with her, and was inwardly glad the affair turned
out an accident, for were this the custom of balls I'd go to no others.
We continued to chat gayly together; she was of a lively wit, and
surprised me by her knowledge of dogs and horses, of the chase, of
sword play and of firearms. Odd tastes for a gentlewoman, most of all
for one of her exalted rank. Of this latter I had no doubt. I knew
none of the people she mentioned, nothing of the drawing-room gossip,
and she very naturally remarked.
"My lord is a stranger?"
"Only yesterday in Paris," I assented.
"From what place comes my lord?" and for the second time in a day I was
driven to a direct lie.
"From Normandy," I replied.
"To live in Paris?"
"No, unfortunately; my affairs will be finished in a few days at most.
Then I return to the country." The lady was pensive for a space,
hesitated in a pretty perplexity and then spoke doubtfully.
"You can be of a service to me if you will."
I immediately signified my willingness to render her aid, in the
courtliest speech I could muster. She looked at me long and seriously
again, then again pursued the subject of her thought.
"It is a mere woman's whim, but _I_ gratify _my_ whims. Perchance it
is not a proper wish for a lady of birth, yet I have it, and if you
will but aid me, I will carry it through."
Moved as much by curiosity as by any other motive, I inquired of her
what so weighty a matter could be.
"Come, let us go into this ante-room that we may converse undisturbed,"
she said, and led me into a quiet corner where there were seats. I
would have thoughtlessly taken a place by her side, forgetful of
Jerome's teachings, but she commanded coldly:
"Monsieur will stand."
And I stood.
"You are a stranger in Paris, you seem a man of honor; for those
reasons I choose you. I would not care to have one of my own gentlemen
know what I wish to do. All Paris would talk of it to-morrow. We in
the palace see naught of the common people, and I have long dreamed it
would be a brave adventure to go unknown among them, to their inns and
gathering places. I have always desired to know more of our Paris,
especially one place which I hear mentioned frequently of late. My
position will not permit me to visit it openly--you understand."
I protested that knowing naught of the streets I should be but a blind
guide.
"I know where I would go," she said, determinedly, brushing aside the
difficulties I would suggest, "and I will go; you will go too."
I was vastly troubled at this, for might it not lead to such another
escapade as came so near costing me dear? Her eyes fixed full upon me,
her voice blended a command which no man dared disobey, with an
entreaty which none would willingly run counter to, and I gave
reluctant assent.
"Will you await me here?" she demanded rather than asked. "My
apartments are in this building. I will return very briefly."
When the lady came back she would never have been taken for a woman;
her long cloak, such as men wore, reached to her boots, identical in
all respects with my own. Her hat, plume and sword were correct and
bravely worn. Her maid, a trifle nervous over the adventure, but who
said nothing, bore a similar cloak for me, and held two masks in her
hands.
"Will my lord throw this about him?" and without any question I assumed
the cloak.
"Now this," and she handed me a mask while she affixed one about her
own face.
I demurred to the mask.
"I will not take my lady upon an errand where we can not show our
faces."
She laughed merrily, and replied: "It is the way of Paris, my lord,
and naught is thought of it. Many lords and ladies wish to keep their
faces from the _canaille_."
I drew a breath of resignation and put it on.
"Am I not a comely man?" the lady asked, one touch of woman's vanity
showing through it all.
"Yes, by my faith, madame;" but such sayings were foreign to my awkward
tongue.
She led me out of the palace by a private way, and when the street was
reached we walked along as two men would. She directed our course, and
as she gave no hint of her destination I did not inquire. It was but a
brief walk before we came to an arched door on a side street, and there
she paused and looked carefully about to see that no one watched us and
then--in we went.
The lady seemed in highest spirits over her unaccountable prank, and
laughed girlishly. "Now I will gratify my curiosity. You know I admit
my curiosity, sometimes. These men are not alone in their thirst for
excitement. It is so tiresome at court, ever the same thing day after
day."
We had now come into a fairly wide, well-lighted hall, and an
obsequious attendant showed us up a stair, and opening a door, pointed
out the place she asked for. Imagine my utter astonishment when we
stood together within the gaming room at Bertrand's. What an infernal
fool I had been to be tempted back into this very place of all others.
I thought at once it was some cowardly trick of Yvard's. I seized the
woman by the arm, for I supposed her then but another decoy; there was
no telling how far this Spanish intrigue had gone or what high
personages Madame du Maine might be able to enlist in furtherance of
her schemes. I seized her firmly, and had taken one step back towards
the door again, when her cold ringing voice undeceived me.
"What means my lord; I thought him a gentleman. Shall I appeal for
protection to these low men here?"
There was such a truth in her low tones that I cast her free, and in
some measure explained my thought.
"Well, well, we'll not quarrel here," and looking about her with eager
curiosity, she chose a table where fewest players sat, and thitherwards
we went. This table was placed rather apart from the others, against a
pillar, and no gamesters sat on the side next the wall. It left but
scant space to sit between. There we took our places, and the lady
tumbled out a purse well filled with gold pieces, handed some to me and
bade me play. She laid her wagers, and won with the glee of a child,
her face alternate flushed and pale. I could see I wronged her by
supposing her in league with the place. She played in too feverish
earnest.
During this while I had observed the same two men who had met me on the
stair the previous night. They were walking about and carelessly
looking on at the different games. Yet for all their nonchalance there
was a well-defined method in their procedure, that attracted my
attention. The taller man scanned every person in the hall, and when
the lady and I came in he watched us intently.
His companion--the same as on the previous night--withdrew to talk.
After some consultation they reached a decision. Together they came
our way, and the tall man clapped his hand twice.
At the signal, for such it was, from every table rose a man or two, and
ranged themselves about him who called. I could also see a guard
suddenly stationed, as if by magic, at each point of exit. Where, here
and there, a cloak was thrown back, the gleam of a uniform showed
beneath.
"There, my lads, is our quarry; take them," commanded the tall man,
pointing to us.
I cursed myself for a silly fool to run again into such danger.
The dispatches in my bosom would hang me, and I dared not explain my
possession of them. It was plain, too, that the King's officers, as
well as Serigny, had their suspicions of the place. It was too late
now for penitence, it was time to act.
The lady arose so trembling and frightened that my courage all came
back to me. She forgot her gold pieces lying on the table in front of
her.
"My lord," she whispered, "you must protect me; it would be the scandal
of all France were I to be discovered in such a place."
Her appeal made me forget my own imminent danger, and I bethought
myself what best to do. They could approach me by but one side, and
while I considered a parley with the officers, heard a glad little cry
from the lady. She calmly gathered up her gold and restored it to her
purse, as if the matter were already settled, though I could see no
change in the front of those around us. As the soldiers would have
pulled the table away, she bade them wait, and said: "I would speak to
your leader."
The tall man asked: "And what would you say? We have no time to talk."
"It is not to you, I know you both; I would speak to my lord by your
side."
With that, the other, who had remained rather in the background, came
forward, and she took him aside where none could hear, save myself a
word or two. The lady spoke to him in a low, quiet tone, and raised
her mask a little. The man started back, then removed his cap
deferentially. I was close enough to hear his exclamation:
"Mademoiselle la Princesse."
"Hush," she placed her finger on her lips, "he does not know,"
indicating me by a gesture.
I was as astonished as he, but had no further anxiety. No officer
would dare arrest a Princess of the Blood in such a place.
"What does Mademoiselle do in Bertrand's gaming house?"
"It is not for you to question, my lord," she drew herself up coldly,
"I chose it. Now I would go. Provide an escort for me and the
gentleman who has the honor to accompany me."
She came back to me smiling. "We will go in peace; It is Vauban. It
must be no trifling matter to fetch him out to-night. I wonder who it
is he seeks?"
I thought I could enlighten her, perhaps, but kept a still tongue.
Vauban gave a quiet order to the tall man, who, it appears, was in
command of the squad, which order he in turn communicated to them.
"We have made a mistake. Permit these gentlemen to pass out, and none
else."
Vauban then interrupted:
"De Verrue, do you take ten men and escort these, these--gentlemen
where they will."
A young officer stepped forward at the word, but seemed not pleased to
leave in face of more exciting events.
"Nay, nay, boy do not look so glum; take my word, it is an honor a
marshal of France would assume did not sterner duties bid him stay."
My lady tossed her purse to the sergeant as she passed:
"Divide this with your men, and drink a health to--well--the Princess
Unknown."