XVII.

At the moment that the princess and her son showed themselves upon

the balcony, amid the enthusiastic acclamations of the multitude, the

sound of drums and fifes was heard in the distance, accompanied by loud

cheering.

Instantly the noisy crowd which was besieging Président Lalasne's house

to have a sight of Madame de Condé turned their heads in the direction

from which the uproar seemed to proceed, and, with little heed to the

laws of etiquette, began to melt away. The explanation of their action

was not far to seek. They had already seen Madame la Princesse ten,

twenty, perhaps a hundred times, while there was a promise of something

new and unfamiliar in this noise which was coming constantly nearer.

"They are honest at least," murmured Lenet, with a smile, from behind

the indignant princess. "But what is the meaning of all this music

and shouting? I confess that I am almost as eager to know as yonder

wretched courtiers."

"Very well," said the princess, "do you too, leave me, and go running

about the streets with them."

"I would do it upon the instant, madame," said Lenet, "if I were sure

of bringing you good news."

"Oh! as for good news," said the princess, with an ironical glance,

apparently directed to the glorious blue sky over her head, "I hardly

expect anything of the sort. We are not in a lucky vein."

"Madame," said Lenet, "you know that I am not easily deceived; I am

very much mistaken, however, if all this noise does not mean that

something favorable has happened."

Indeed the joyous character of the constantly increasing uproar, and

the appearance of an excited multitude at the end of the street, with

arms and handkerchiefs waving in the air, convinced the princess

herself that what she was about to hear must be good news. She listened

therefore with an eager attention which made her forget for a moment

the desertion of her admirers, and distinguished these words:--

"Braune! the governor of Braune! the governor's a prisoner!"

"Aha!" said Lenet, "the governor of Braune a prisoner! That's not half

bad. In him we have a hostage whom we can hold to answer for Richon."

"Have we not the governor of Île Saint-Georges?" said the princess.

"I am very happy," said Madame de Tourville, "that my plan for taking

Braune has succeeded so well."

"Madame," said Lenet, "let us not flatter ourselves yet upon so

complete a victory; chance mocks at the plans of man, sometimes even at

the plans of woman."

"But; monsieur," retorted Madame de Tourville, bristling up as usual,

"if the governor is taken, the place must be taken."

"Your logic is not absolutely unanswerable, madame; but have no fear

that I shall not be the first to congratulate you, if to you we owe a

twofold result of such importance."

"The most surprising thing to me in all this," said the princess,

beginning to cast about already for something, in the anticipated good

news, wounding to the aristocratic pride which was her most prominent

characteristic,--"the most surprising thing to me is that I was not

the first person to be informed of what had taken place; it is an

unpardonable neglect of propriety, like everything that Monsieur le Duc

de La Rochefoucauld does."

"Why, madame," said Lenet, "we haven't soldiers enough to do the

fighting, and yet you would have us take some of them from their posts

to make couriers of them! Alas! let us not be too exacting, and when

good news arrives, let us take it as God sends it, and not ask how it

came."

Meanwhile the crowd continued to increase in size, as all the detached

groups joined the main body, even as the small streams flow into a

great river. In the centre of this main body, composed of perhaps a

thousand persons, was a little knot of soldiers, thirty men at most,

and, surrounded by these thirty men, a prisoner whom they seemed to be

protecting from the fury of the mob.

"Death! death!" cried the populace; "death to the governor of Braune!"

"Ah!" exclaimed the princess, with a triumphant smile, "it seems that

they really have a prisoner, and that the prisoner is the governor of

Braune!"

"Yes," said Lenet; "but look, madame; it seems also that the prisoner's

life is in danger. Do you hear the threats? Do you see the fierce

gestures? Why, madame, they are trying to force their way through the

soldiers; they mean to tear him in pieces! Oh! the tigers, they smell

the flesh, and thirst for blood!"

"Well, let them drink it!" said the princess, with the ferocity

peculiar to women when their bad passions are aroused; "let them drink

it! it's the blood of an enemy."

"Madame," said Lenet, "yonder prisoner is under safeguard of the honor

of the Condés, remember that; and furthermore, who can say that at this

moment Richon, our gallant Richon, is not exposed to the same danger as

this poor wretch? Ah! they will force the soldiers back; if they reach

him, he is lost! Twenty volunteers this way!" cried Lenet, turning

about. "Twenty volunteers to help in driving back this canaille! If a

hair on the prisoner's head is injured, your heads will answer for it;

go!"

At the word, twenty musketeers of the civic guard, belonging to the

best families of the city, rushed like a torrent down the stairs,

forced the crowd aside by dint of dealing blows right and left with

clubbed muskets, and reinforced the escort. It was high time, for a few

claws, longer and sharper than the rest, had already torn some pieces

from the prisoner's blue coat.

"I' faith, messieurs, I thank you," said the prisoner, "for you came

just in time to prevent my being devoured by these cannibals; it was

very well done of you. _Peste!_ if they eat men up in this way, on the

day that the royal army attempts an assault upon your city they will

devour it raw."

With that he shrugged his shoulders carelessly and began to laugh.

"Ah! he's a brave man!" cried the crowd, observant of the somewhat

artificial calmness of the prisoner; and they repeated the pleasantry,

which flattered his self-esteem. "He's a true hero! he's not afraid.

Long live the governor of Braune!"

"Gad, yes!" cried the prisoner, "long live the governor of Braune! That

would suit me wonderfully well."

In a twinkling the popular rage changed to admiration, and this last

sentiment was expressed in most emphatic terms. A veritable ovation

took the place of the threatened martyrdom of the governor of Braune,

in other words, of our old friend Cauvignac. For as our readers have

undoubtedly guessed ere this, it was Cauvignac who was making this

melancholy entry into the capital of Guyenne.

Meanwhile, protected by his guards, and by his presence of mind, the

prisoner of war was taken to the house of Président Lalasne, and was

haled before the princess by half of the escort, while the other half

stood guard at the door.

Cauvignac entered Madame de Condé's apartment with proud and tranquil

bearing; but truth compels us to state that his heart was beating

wildly beneath this heroic exterior.

At the first glance he was recognized, despite the deplorable condition

in which the mob had left his fine blue coat, his gold lace, and his

feather.

"Monsieur Cauvignac!" cried Lenet.

"Monsieur Cauvignac, governor of Braune!" added the princess. "Ah!

monsieur, this much resembles downright treason."

"What said your Highness?" queried Cauvignac, realizing that now, if

ever, he must summon to his aid all his impudence, and all his wit. "I

thought that I heard the word 'treason'!"

"Yes, monsieur, treason; for what is this title under which you appear

before me?"

"The title of governor of Braune, madame."

"Treason, as you see. By whom is your commission signed?"

"By Monsieur de Mazarin."

"Treason! two-fold treason, as I said! You are governor of Braune, and

it was your company that surrendered Vayres; the title was the fitting

reward of the base deed."

At these words Cauvignac's face expressed the most unbounded

amazement. He looked all about, as if seeking the person to whom this

extraordinary language was addressed; and convinced at last that the

princess's accusation was aimed at no other than himself, he let his

hands fall by his sides with a despairing gesture.

"My company surrendered Vayres!" he exclaimed. "Does your Highness make

such a charge against me?"

"Yes, monsieur, I do. Pretend to know nothing of it; affect amazement;

you are evidently a clever comedian; but you will not make me the dupe

of your grimaces or your words, although they harmonize so perfectly

with one another."

"I pretend nothing, madame. How can your Highness say that I know what

took place at Vayres, when I have never been there?"

"Subterfuge, monsieur, subterfuge!"

"I have nothing to say in reply to such words, madame, except that your

Highness seems displeased with me. I pray your Highness to forgive the

frankness of my character for the freedom with which I make bold to

defend myself,--I was of the opinion that I had reason to complain of

you."

"To complain of me, monsieur!" cried the princess, amazed at his

audacity.

"Most assuredly, madame," rejoined Cauvignac, with undiminished

self-possession; "relying upon your word and that of Monsieur Lenet

here present, I levy a company of gallant fellows, and I enter into

agreements with them, which are the more sacred in that they are in

almost every instance merely verbal agreements. And lo! when I ask

your Highness for the amount agreed upon,--a mere trifle, thirty or

forty thousand livres,--to be used, not for myself, observe, but for

the new defenders of the cause of Messieurs les Princes recruited by

me, your Highness refuses to give them to me; yes, refuses me! I appeal

to Monsieur Lenet."

"It is true," said Lenet; "when monsieur made his demand, we had no

money."

"And could you not wait a few days, monsieur? Was your fidelity and

that of your men a matter of a moment?"

"I waited the length of time that Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld himself

asked me to wait, madame,--a week. At the end of the week I made my

appearance again, and was then met with a formal refusal; once more I

appeal to Monsieur Lenet."

The princess turned to her adviser with compressed lips, and eyes

darting fire from beneath her frowning brow.

"Unfortunately," said Lenet, "I am forced to admit that what monsieur

says is the exact truth."

Cauvignac drew himself up triumphantly.

"Tell me, madame," said he, "what would a schemer have done under such

circumstances? He would have sold himself and his men to the queen. But

I, who have a horror of intrigue, dismissed my company, and released

every man from his agreement; and, being left entirely alone, I

maintained absolute neutrality; I did what the sage advises the man who

is in doubt to do,--I held aloof."

"But your soldiers, monsieur, your soldiers!" cried the princess,

excitedly.

"Madame," Cauvignac retorted, "as I am neither king nor prince, but

a simple captain; as I have neither subjects nor vassals, I call no

soldiers mine, save those whom I pay; and as those whom you call mine

were, as Monsieur Lenet affirms, not paid at all, they were free.

Thereupon they turned against their new leader. What was I to do? I

confess that I do not know."

"But what have you to say, monsieur, as to having taken the king's part

yourself?--that your neutrality was a burden to you?"

"No, madame; but my neutrality, honest as it was, aroused the suspicion

of his Majesty's partisans. One fine morning I was arrested at the

Golden Calf inn on the Libourne road, and taken before the queen."

"And then you came to terms with her?"

"Madame," Cauvignac replied, "a man of heart has his sensitive spots,

which a keen-sighted sovereign is sure to select for attack. My heart

was embittered because I had been driven out of a party which I had

rushed into blindly, with all the ardor and good faith of youth. I

appeared before the queen between two soldiers who were ready to kill

me; I expected reproaches, insults, death; for, after all, I had

served the cause of the princes in intention. But, contrary to my

expectations, instead of punishing me by depriving me of liberty, by

consigning me to prison, or to the gallows, that great princess said to

me:--

"'My gallant but deluded gentleman, I can with a word cause your head

to fall; but you have met with ingratitude over yonder,--here you

shall find us grateful. In the name of Saint-Anne, my patron saint,

you shall be numbered henceforth among my retainers. Messieurs,' she

continued, addressing my guards, 'treat this officer with respect, for

I appreciate his meritorious qualities, and I make him your chief. And

as for yourself,' she added, turning again to me, 'I make you governor

of Braune; this is how a queen of France avenges herself.'

"What could I reply?" pursued Cauvignac, resuming his natural tone and

attitude, after mimicking, in a half-comic, half-sentimental way, the

voice and gestures of Anne of Austria. "Nothing. I was disappointed

in my fondest hopes; I was disappointed in the result of my action in

laying my devotion unrewarded at your Highness's feet, after I had had

the good fortune, as it gives me great joy to remember, to render you a

slight service at Chantilly. I followed the example of Coriolanus and

sought the tents of the Volscii."

This discourse, delivered in a dramatic voice, and with majestic

bearing, made a profound impression upon those who heard it. Cauvignac

realized that he had triumphed when he saw the princess turn pale with

rage.

"In Heaven's name, monsieur," said she, "to whom are you faithful?"

"To those who appreciate the delicacy of my conduct," was Cauvignac's

retort.

"Be it so. You are my prisoner."

"I have that honor, madame; but I trust that you will treat me as a

gentleman. I am your prisoner, it is true, but without having borne

arms against your Highness. I was on my way to my post with my baggage,

when I fell in with a party of your troops, who arrested me. I did not

for an instant think of concealing my rank or my opinions. I say again,

therefore, that I demand to be treated as a gentleman and as an officer

of high rank."

"You will be so treated, monsieur," said the princess. "You will have

the city for your prison; but you must swear to make no attempt to

leave the city."

"I will swear whatever your Highness chooses to demand."

"'T is well. Lenet, repeat the formula to monsieur; we will receive his

oath."

Lenet dictated the terms of the oath which Cauvignac was required to

take.

Cauvignac raised his hand and solemnly swore that he would not leave

the city until relieved from his oath.

"You may now withdraw," said the princess; "we rely upon your honor as

a gentleman and a soldier."

Cauvignac did not wait to be told twice; but as he went out he detected

a gesture of the councillor which signified:--

"He has put us in the wrong, madame; this is what comes of a niggardly

policy."

The fact is that Lenet, who was quick to appreciate merit of every

variety, recognized Cauvignac's exceeding shrewdness, and, for the

very reason that he was in no wise deceived by any of his specious

arguments, admired the skill with which the prisoner had extricated

himself from one of the most difficult dilemmas in which a turn-coat

could be involved.

Cauvignac meanwhile went slowly downstairs deep in thought, with his

chin in his hand, saying to himself:

"Now the question is how I can sell them my hundred and fifty men again

for a hundred thousand livres, which is quite possible, as the upright

and intelligent Ferguzon has obtained full liberty for himself and his

men. I shall find an opportunity one day or another. After all, I see

that I did not make such a very great blunder in allowing myself to be

taken as I at first thought."