THE DUEL
After the death of Louis XV., the Marquis of Létorière quitted
Versailles in order to return with all speed to Paris, and to the
convent of Montmartre, in order to see the princess Julie. Feeling, on
the road, alternate chills and fever, he attributed his indisposition to
the painful emotions which had recently agitated him. As soon as he
arrived, he questioned Dominique about the princess. The dying Louis XV.
had only too clearly foreseen the future. A provost-guard was
established in the abbey, by order of Louis XVI., to prevent Mlle. de
Soissons from going out or receiving persons who were not furnished with
the permission of Madame Soubise. So Dominique had not been able to see
the princess, or to deliver to her the Marquis's letters.
This news fell like a thunderbolt on Létorière. He doubtless trusted
much to the firmness of Mlle. de Soissons; but he also knew the immense
power of the House of Savoy, and of Madame Soubise's influence in the
new court. He was plunged in the bitterness of these reflections, when
the seconds of the Baron of Ugeon came to inquire when it would suit him
to appoint a time for the promised encounter. It seemed cruel to the
Marquis to run the risk of a duel before seeing the princess Julie; but
he had already asked for delay, and he could not beg it a second time.
He agreed, therefore, to appear with his seconds at three o'clock the
next day, behind the walls of the Mathurins farm-house, then a very
isolated spot.
The Marquis had thirty-six hours before him; in this time he hoped to
find means to obtain an interview with, or at least to convey a letter
to Mlle. de Soissons.
Dame Landry was despatched to the Abbey of Montmartre, disguised as a
pedler. She had a complete assortment of linens, cambrics, crapes,
ribbons and laces. In order to make friends with the portress, she gave
her a beautiful hood. The sister, delighted, promised to allow her to
enter the court at the hour of promenade, when the ladies would surely
make many purchases. Madelaine inquired who were the ladies of
distinction resident in the abbey. The portress named the princess
Julie.
"Is Madame Martha, Mlle. de Soisson's nurse, with her?" asked the
tailor's wife.
"Undoubtedly," replied the sister, "and you will see her in a moment,
for she almost always comes down at this hour in her mistress's
service."
"I have been recommended to Madame Martha," said Madelaine, "and I am
sure that, under her countenance, I shall sell a great many things to
the princess; I have here a piece of lace which would not be unworthy
the dress of a queen;" and the tailor's wife, unfolding a napkin, showed
a magnificent pattern to the portress.
"Ah! splendid! How beautiful that is! The archbishop has nothing finer
on his surplice when he comes to officiate here."
"And it is very probable," said Madelaine, "that the princess may buy
this marvel to make a present to his lordship; at least that's what the
person said who recommended me to Dame Martha."
"Here she comes, now," said the portress.
Martha entered, looking sad and mournful.
"Here's a pedler who has been recommended to you, Madame Martha," said
the portress. "She has the most beautiful laces in the world."
"I have no need of them," said Martha, impatiently. "But, madame," . . .
said Madelaine, hesitating, and trying to make a signal of intelligence
to the nurse, "I have been told that the princess . . . wished to
purchase some laces, and . . ."
"You have been deceived, or rather you wish to deceive me, my friend,"
sourly replied Dame Martha. "You have the appearance of one of those
travelling vendors, who never return to see if people are satisfied with
what they have bought."
"You would not confound me with those miserable creatures, madame," said
Madelaine, redoubling her signals of intelligence, "if you knew who the
person is who has recommended me to you."
"And who is it?"
"The Marquis of Létorière." . . .
At this name Dame Martha exchanged a rapid and meaning look with
Madelaine. The two women understood each other. The portress was
ignorant of the name, and even the existence of the Marquis.
Nevertheless the nurse, not wishing to excite her suspicions by
recognizing too soon the name, replied roughly:
"Seek other dupes, my friend; I don't know this Marquis." . . .
"He is, nevertheless, the nephew of the Abbé de Vighan," replied
Madelaine.
"The nephew of the Abbé de Vighan! . . . that's very different,"
answered the nurse; "why didn't you tell me that sooner? The nephew of
M. de Vighan would recommend none but honest persons. And what have you
to sell?"
"This piece of lace." And Madelaine cast an expressive glance on Martha.
"It is very precious and beautiful from one end to the other; the
princess may unroll it, and she will not find a defect in it."
"I will go and show it to her. . . And have you nothing else?"
"I have nothing that is worthy of your mistress."
"Wait, then; I will come back."
Inside the package of lace was a letter from the Marquis, inquiring of
Julie the means of penetrating to her presence. Mlle. de Soissons
answered that she considered herself his wife before God, that she was
resolved to flee from the abbey, if she could by any possibility escape
the surveillance which was maintained over her. She could go at all
hours to pray in the chapel. This chapel was separated from the garden
of the cloister by a long subterranean passage. A part of the wall
looked out upon the fields; by scaling at it one point which Mlle. de
Soissons designated, might be reached in the garden, by the side of a
fountain, the door of this subterranean passage. By forcing this door
one could gain the chapel. Mlle. de Soissons informed Létorière that
every night, at one o'clock, she would wait there, to swear to him at
the foot of the altar to be only his, and to concert with him a plan of
fleeing to England and escaping the persecutions of her family.
The princess Julie put this hastily-written letter into the roll of
lace, and Martha carried it back to Madelaine, telling her that the
princess thought it not fine enough.
Informed of Mlle. de Soissons's determination, the Marquis sent Jerome
Sicard to examine the locality. The walls of the cloister were very
high, but surrounded by desert marshes. They could easily be scaled.
Unhappily, the preparations indispensable to this enterprise would not
permit the Marquis to attempt it until the night of the next day.
For the first time he feared death, for he reflected that his duel must
precede his interview with Mlle. de Soissons.
He passed a night of painful agitation. His sleep was troubled by
strange dreams. When he arose, he felt feeble and depressed. For the
first time it occurred to him that perhaps he was a victim to contagion
and his devotion to Louis XV. In fact, his physician recognized the
alarming symptoms of confluent small-pox; but the disease would not be
developed before the next day. Moved by an over-nice sense of honor, and
contrary to the advice of his two seconds, the Marquis, notwithstanding
his weakness, insisted on fighting with the Baron of Ugeon that very
day.
At quarter past three, the meeting took place. The friends of the
Marquis, seeing his feverish color and his weakness, believed it their
duty, without consulting Létorière, to appeal to the courtesy of M.
d'Ugeon, and request him to put off the duel. But a cruel and offensive
word from M. d'Ugeon, at the suggestion of this new delay, having
rendered an adjustment impossible, the combat began. Létorière fenced
with superior force; his bravery was unquestionable; but the rapid
approach of disease had weakened him so seriously, that he lost all his
advantages, and received a sword-thrust directly in his breast. The
seconds carried him home, and left him to the care of poor Dominique.