"Then--is it not worth while to avoid all that?" he murmured, his face
pale, and his small eyes glued to mine. "Is it not worth a
little--sacrifice, M. de Rosny?"
"And risk?" I said. "Possibly."
While the words were still on my lips, something stirred close to us,
behind the yew hedge beside which we were standing. Perrot darted in a
moment to the opening, and I after him. We were just in time to catch
a glimpse of a figure disappearing round the corner of the house.
"Well," I said grimly, "what about being overheard now?"
M. de Perrot wiped his face. "Thank Heaven!" he said, "it was only my
son. Now let me explain to you--"
But our hasty movement had caught the King's eye, and he came towards
us, covering himself as he approached. I had now an opportunity of
learning whether the girl was, in fact, as innocent as she seemed, and
as every particular of our reception had declared her; and I watched
her closely when Perrot's mode of address betrayed the King's identity.
Suffice it that the vivid blush which on the instant suffused her face,
and the lively emotion which almost overcame her, left me in no doubt.
With a charming air of bashfulness, and just so much timid awkwardness
as rendered her doubly bewitching, she tried to kneel and kiss the
King's hand. He would not permit this, however, but saluted her cheek.
"It seems that you were right, sire," she murmured, curtseying in a
pretty confusion, "The princess was not awake."
Henry laughed gaily. "Come now; tell me frankly, Mademoiselle," he
said. "For whom did you take me?"
"Not for the King, sire," she answered, with a gleam of roguishness.
"You told me that the King was a good man, whose benevolent impulses
were constantly checked--"
"Ah!"
"By M. de Rosny, his Minister."
The outburst of laughter which greeted this apprised her that she was
again at fault; and Henry, who liked nothing better than such
mystifications, introducing me by my proper name, we diverted ourselves
for some minutes with her alarm and excuses. After that it was time to
take leave, if we would sup at home and the King would not be missed;
and accordingly, but not without some further badinage, in which
Mademoiselle de Brut displayed wit equal to her beauty, and an
agreeable refinement not always found with either, we departed.
It should be clearly understood at this point, that, notwithstanding
all I have set down, I was fully determined (in accordance with a rule
I have constantly followed, and would enjoin on all who do not desire
to find themselves one day saddled with an ugly name) to have no part
in the affair; and this though the advantage of altering the King's
intentions towards Madame de Beaufort was never more vividly present to
my mind. As we rode, indeed, he put several questions concerning the
Baron, and his family, and connections; and, falling into a reverie,
and smiling a good deal at his thoughts, left me in no doubt as to the
impression made upon him. But being engaged at the time with the
Spanish treaty, and resolved, as I have said, to steer a course
uninfluenced by such intrigues, I did not let my mind dwell upon the
matter; nor gave it, indeed, a second thought until the next afternoon,
when, sitting at an open window of my lodging, I heard a voice in the
street ask where the Duchess de Beaufort had her apartment.
The voice struck a chord in my memory, and I looked out. The man who
had put the question, and who was now being directed on his way--by
Maignan, my equerry, as it chanced had his back to me, and I could see
only that he was young, shabbily dressed, and with the air of a workman
carried a small frail of tools on his shoulder. But presently, in the
act of thanking Maignan, he turned so that I saw his face, and with
that it flashed upon me in a moment who he was.
Accustomed to follow a train of thought quickly, and to act; on its
conclusion with energy, I had Maignan called and furnished with his
instructions before the man had gone twenty paces; and within the
minute I had the satisfaction of seeing the two return together. As
they passed under the window I heard my servant explaining with the
utmost naturalness that he had misunderstood the stranger, and that
this was Madame de Beaufort's; after which scarce a minute elapsed
before the door of my room opened, and he appeared ushering in young
Perrot!
Or so it seemed to me; and the start of surprise and consternation
which escaped the stranger when he first saw me confirmed me in the
impression. But a moment later I doubted; so natural was the posture
into which the man fell, and so stupid the look of inquiry which he
turned first on me and then on Maignan. As he stood before me,
shifting his feet and staring about him in vacant wonder, I began to
think that I had made a mistake; and, clearly, either I had done so or
this young man was possessed of talents and a power of controlling his
features beyond the ordinary. He unslung his tools, and saluting me
abjectly waited in silence. After a moment's thought, I asked him
peremptorily what was his errand with the Duchess de Beaufort.
"To show her a watch, your excellency," he stammered, his mouth open,
his eyes staring. I could detect no flaw in his acting.
"What are you, then?" I said.
"A clockmaker, my lord."
"Has Madame sent for you?"
"No, my lord," he stuttered, trembling.
"Do you want to sell her the watch?"
He muttered that he did; and that he meant no harm by it.
"Show it to me, then," I said curtly.
He grew red at that, and seemed for an instant not to understand. But
on my repeating the order he thrust his hand into his breast, and
producing a parcel began to unfasten it. This he did so slowly that I
was soon for thinking that there was no watch in it; but in the end he
found one and handed it to me.
"You did not make this," I said, opening it.
"No, my lord," he answered; "it is German, and old."
I saw that it was of excellent workmanship, and I was about to hand it
back to him, almost persuaded that I had made a mistake, when in a
second my doubts were solved. Engraved on the thick end of the egg,
and partly erased by wear, was a dog's head, which I knew to be the
crest of the Perrots.
"So," I said, preparing to return it to him, "you are a clockmaker?"
"Yes, your excellency," he muttered. And I thought that I caught the
sound of a sigh of relief.
I gave the watch to Maignan to hand to him. "Very well," I said. "I
have need of one. The clock in the next room--a gift from his
Majesty--is out of order, and at a standstill. You can go and attend
to it; and see that you do so skilfully. And do you, Maignan," I
continued with meaning, "go with him. When he has made the clock go,
let him go; and not before, or you answer for it. You understand,
sirrah?"
Maignan saluted obsequiously, and in a moment hurried young Perrot from
the room; leaving me to congratulate myself on the strange and
fortuitous circumstance that had thrown him in my way, and enabled me
to guard against a RENCONTRE that might have had the most embarassing
consequences.
It required no great sagacity to foresee the next move; and I was not
surprised when, about an hour later, I heard a clatter of hoofs
outside, and a voice inquiring hurriedly for the Marquis de Rosny. One
of my people announced M. de Perrot, and I bade them admit him. In a
twinkling he came up, pale with heat, and covered with dust, his eyes
almost starting from his head and his cheeks trembling with agitation.
Almost before the door was shut, he cried out that we were undone.
I was willing to divert myself with him for a time, and I pretended to
know nothing. "What?" I said, rising. "Has the King met with an
accident?"
"Worse! worse!" he cried, waving his hat with a gesture of despair.
"My son--you saw my son yesterday?"
"Yes," I said.
"He overheard us!"
"Not us," I said drily. "You. But what then, M. de Perrot? You are
master in your own house."
"But he is not in my house," he wailed. "He has gone! Fled! Decamped!
I had words with him this morning, you understand."
"About your niece?"
M. de Perrot's face took a delicate shade of red, and he nodded; he
could not speak. He seemed for an instant in danger of some kind of
fit. Then he found his voice again. "The fool prated of love! Of
love!" he said with such a look--like that of a dying fowl--that I
could have laughed aloud. "And when I bade him remember his duty he
threatened me. He, that unnatural boy, threatened to betray me, to
ruin me, to go to Madame de Beaufort and tell her all--all, you
understand. And I doing so much, and making such sacrifices for him!"
"Yes," I said, "I see that. And what did you do?"
"I broke my cane on his back," M. de Perrot answered with unction, "and
locked him in his room. But what is the use? The boy has no natural
feelings!"
"He got out through the window?"
Perrot nodded; and being at leisure, now that he had explained his
woes, to feel their full depth, shed actual tears of rage and terror;
now moaning that Madame would never forgive him, and that if he escaped
the Bastille he would lose all his employments and be the
laughing-stock of the Court; and now striving to show that his peril
was mine, and that it was to my interest to help him.
I allowed him to go on in this strain for some time, and then, having
sufficiently diverted myself with his forebodings, I bade him in an
altered voice to take courage. "For I think I know," I said, "where
your son is."
"At Madame's?" he groaned.
"No; here," I said.
"MON DIEU! Where?" he cried. And he sprang up, startled out of his
lamentations.
"Here; in my lodging," I answered.
"My son is here?" he said.
"In the next room," I replied, smiling indulgently at his astonishment,
which was only less amusing than his terror. "I have but to touch this
bell, and Maignan will bring him to you."
Full of wonder and admiration, he implored me to ring and have him
brought immediately; since until he had set eyes on him he could not
feel safe. Accordingly I rang my hand-bell, and Maignan opened the
door. "The clockmaker," I said nodding.