"At your house, doubtless?"
"Of course!" he replied, with a snap of rage.
"Then I am afraid it is serious," I said.
He stared at me, and for an instant I thought that he was going to
quarrel with me. Then he asked me why.
I was not sorry to have this opportunity of at once increasing his
uneasiness, and requiting his arrogance. "Because," I said, "this
young man appears to me to be very much out of the common. Hitherto,
whatever he has said he would do, he has done. You remember Crillon?
Well, I trace a likeness. St. Mesmin has much of his headlong temper
and savage determination. If you will take my advice, you will proceed
with caution."
M. de Saintonge, receiving an answer so little to his mind, was almost
bursting with rage. "Proceed with caution!" he cried. "You talk as if
the thing could be entertained, or as if I had cause to fear the
coxcomb! On the contrary, I intend to teach him a lesson a little
confinement will cool his temper. You must give me a letter, my
friend, and we will clap him in the Bastille for a month or two."
"Impossible," I said firmly. "Quite impossible, M. le Marquis."
M. de Saintonge looked at me, frowning. "How?" he said arrogantly.
"Have my services earned no better answer than that?"
"You forget," I replied. "Let me remind you that less than a month ago
you asked me not to interfere with St. Mesmin; and at your instance I
refused to accede to M. de Clan's request that I would confine him.
You were then all for non-interference, M. de Saintonge, and I cannot
blow hot and cold. Besides, to be plain with you," I continued, "even
if that were not the case, this young fellow is in a manner under my
protection; which renders it impossible for me to move against him. If
you like, however, I will speak to him."
"Speak to him!" M. de Saintonge cried. He was breathless with rage.
He could say no more. It may be imagined how unpalatable my answer was
to him.
But I was not disposed to endure his presumption and ill-temper beyond
a certain point; and feeling no sympathy with him in a difficulty which
he had brought upon himself by his spitefulness, I answered him
roundly. "Yes," I said, "I will speak to him, if you please. But not
otherwise. I can assure you, I should not do it for everyone."
But M. de Saintonge's chagrin and rage at finding himself thus
rebuffed, in a quarter where his haughty temper had led him to expect
an easy compliance, would not allow him to stoop to my offer. He flung
away with expressions of the utmost resentment, and even in the hearing
of my servants uttered so many foolish and violent things against me,
that had my discretion been no greater than his I must have taken
notice of them. As, however, I had other and more important affairs
upon my hands, and it has never been my practice to humour such
hot-heads by placing myself on a level with them, I was content to
leave his punishment to St. Mesmin; assured that in him M. Saintonge
would find an opponent more courageous and not less stubborn than
himself.
The event bore me out, for within a week M. de St. Mesmin's pretensions
to the hand of Mademoiselle de Saintonge shared with the Biron affair
the attention of all Paris. The young lady, whose reputation and the
care which had been spent on her breeding, no less than her gifts of
person and character, deserved a better fate, attained in a moment a
notoriety far from enviable; rumour's hundred tongues alleging, and
probably with truth--for what father can vie with a gallant in a
maiden's eyes?--that her inclinations were all on the side of the
pretender. At any rate, St. Mesmin had credit for them; there was talk
of stolen meetings and a bribed waiting-woman; and though such tales
were probably as false as those who gave them currency were fair, they
obtained credence with the thoughtless, and being repeated from one to
another, in time reached her father's ears, and contributed with St.
Mesmin's persecution to render him almost beside himself.
Doubtless with a man of less dogged character, or one more amenable to
reason, the Marquis would have known how to deal; but the success which
had hitherto rewarded St. Mesmin's course of action had confirmed the
young man in his belief that everything was to be won by courage; so
that the more the Marquis blustered and threatened the more persistent
the suitor showed himself. Wherever Mademoiselle's presence was to be
expected, St. Mesmin appeared, dressed in the extreme of the fashion
and wearing either a favour made of her colours or a glove which he
asserted that she had given him. Throwing himself in her road on every
occasion, he expressed his passion by the most extravagant looks and
gestures; and protected from the shafts of ridicule alike by his
self-esteem and his prowess, did a hundred things that rendered her
conspicuous and must have covered another than himself with
inextinguishable laughter.
In these circumstances M. de Saintonge began to find that the darts
which glanced off his opponent's armour were making him their butt; and
that he, who had valued himself all his life on a stately dignity and a
pride: almost Spanish, was rapidly becoming the laughing-stock of the
Court. His rage may be better imagined than described, and doubtless
his daughter did not go unscathed. But the ordinary contemptuous
refusal which would have sent another suitor about his business was of
no avail here; he had no son, while St. Mesmin's recklessness rendered
the boldest unwilling to engage him. Saintonge found himself therefore
at his wits' end, and in this emergency bethought him again of a LETTRE
DE CACHET. But the King proved as obdurate as his minister; partly in
accordance with a promise he had made me about a year before that he
would not commonly grant what I had denied, and partly because Biron's
affair had now reached a stage in which Saintonge's aid was no longer
of importance.
Thus repulsed, the Marquis made up his mind to carry his daughter into
the country; but St. Mesmin meeting this with the confident assertion
that he would abduct her within a week, wherever she was confined,
Saintonge, desperate as a baited bull, and trembling with rage--for the
threat was uttered at Zamet's and was repeated everywhere--avowed
equally publicly that since the King would give him no satisfaction he
would take the law into his own hands, and serve this impudent braggart
as Guise served St. Megrin. As M. le Marquis maintained a considerable
household, including some who would not stick at a trifle, it was
thought likely enough that he would carry out his threat; especially as
the provocation seemed to many to justify it. St. Mesmin was warned,
therefore; but his reckless character was so well known that odds were
freely given that he would be caught tripping some night--and for the
last time.
At this juncture, however, an unexpected ally, and one whose appearance
increased Saintonge's rage to an intolerable extent, took up St.
Mesmin's quarrel. This was young St. Germain, who, quitting his
chamber, was to be seen everywhere on his antagonist's arm. The old
feud between the Saint Germains and Saintonges aggravated the new; and
more than one brawl took place in the streets between the two parties.
St. Germain never moved without four armed servants; he placed others
at his friend's disposal; and wherever he went he loudly proclaimed
what he would do if a hair of St. Mesmin's head were injured.
This seemed to place an effectual check on M. de Saintonge's purpose;
and my surprise was great when, about a week later, the younger St.
Germain burst in upon me one morning, with his face inflamed with anger
and his dress in disorder; and proclaimed, before I could rise or
speak, that St. Mesmin had been murdered.
"How?" I said, somewhat startled. "And when?"
"By M. de Saintonge! Last night!" he answered furiously. "But I will
have justice; I will have justice, M. de Rosny, or the King--"
I checked him as sternly as my surprise would let me; and when I had a
little abashed him--which was not easy, for his temper vied in
stubbornness with St. Mesmin's--I learned the particulars. About ten
o'clock on the previous night St. Mesmin had received a note, and, in
spite of the remonstrances of his servants, had gone out alone. He had
not returned nor been seen since, and his friends feared the worst.
"But on what grounds?" I said, astonished to find that that was all.
"What!" St. Germain cried, flaring up again. "Do you ask on what
grounds? When M. de Saintonge has told a hundred what he would do to
him! What he would do--do, I say? What he has done!"
"Pooh!" I said. "It is some assignation, and the rogue is late in
returning."
"An assignation, yes," St. Germain retorted; "but one from which he
will not return."
"Well, if he does not, go to the Chevalier du Guet," I answered, waving
him off. "Go! do you hear? I am busy," I continued. "Do you think
that I am keeper of all the young sparks that bay the moon under the
citizens' windows? Be off, sir!"
He went reluctantly, muttering vengeance; and I, after rating Maignan
soundly for admitting him, returned to my work, supposing that before
night I should hear of St. Mesmin's safety. But the matter took
another turn, for while I was at dinner the Captain of the Watch came
to speak to me. St. Mesmin's cap had been found in a bye-street near
the river, in a place where there were marks of a struggle; and his
friends were furious. High words had already passed between the two
factions, St. Germain openly accusing Saintonge of the murder; plainly,
unless something were done at once, a bloody fray was imminent.
"What do you think yourself, M. le Marchand?" I said, when I had heard
him out.
He shrugged his shoulders. "What can I think, your Excellency?" he
said. "What else was to be expected?"
"You take it for granted that M. de Saintonge is guilty?"
"The young man is gone," he answered pithily.
In spite of this, I thought the conclusion hasty, and contented myself
with bidding him see St. Germain and charge him to be quiet; promising
that, if necessary, the matter should be investigated and justice done.
I still had good hopes that St. Mesmin's return would clear up the
affair, and the whole turn out to be a freak on his part; but within a
few hours tidings that Saintonge had taken steps to strengthen his
house and was lying at home, refusing to show himself, placed a
different and more serious aspect on the mystery. Before noon next day
M. de Clan, whose interference surprised me not a little, was with me
to support his son's petition; and at the King's LEVEE next day St.
Germain accused his enemy to the King's face, and caused an angry and
indecent scene in the chamber.
When a man is in trouble foes spring up, as the moisture rises through
the stones before a thaw. I doubt if M. de Saintonge was not more
completely surprised than any by the stir which ensued, and which was
not confined to the St. Germains' friends, though they headed the
accusers. All whom he had ever offended, and all who had ever offended
him, clamoured for justice; while St. Mesmin's faults being forgotten
and only his merits remembered, there were few who did not bow to the
general indignation, which the young and gallant, who saw that at any
moment his fate might be theirs, did all in their power to foment.
Finally, the arrival of St. Mesmin the father, who came up almost
broken-hearted, and would have flung himself at the King's feet on the
first opportunity, roused the storm to the wildest pitch; so that, in
the fear lest M. de Biron's friends should attempt something under
cover of it, I saw the King and gave him my advice. This was to summon
Saintonge, the St. Germains, and old St. Mesmin to his presence and
effect a reconciliation; or, failing that, to refer the matter to the
Parliament.
He agreed with me and chose to receive them next day at the Arsenal. I
communicated his commands, and at the hour named we met, the King
attended by Roquelaure and myself. But if I had flattered myself that
the King's presence would secure a degree of moderation and
reasonableness I was soon undeceived; for though M. de St. Mesmin had
only his trembling head and his tears to urge, Clan and his son fell
upon Saintonge with so much violence--to which he responded by a fierce
and resentful sullenness equally dangerous--that I feared that blows
would be struck even before the King's face. Lest this should happen
and the worst traditions of old days of disorder be renewed, I
interposed and managed at length to procure silence.
"For shame, gentlemen, for shame!" the King said, gnawing his
moustachios after a fashion he had when in doubt. "I take Heaven to
witness that I cannot say who is right! But this brawling does no
good. The one fact we have is that St. Mesmin has disappeared."
"Yes, sire; and that M. de Saintonge predicted his disappearance," St.
Germain cried, impulsively. "To the day and almost to the hour."
"I gather, de Saintonge," the King said, turning to him, mildly, "that
you did use some expressions of that kind."
"Yes, sire, and did nothing upon them," he answered resentfully. But he
trembled as he spoke. He was an older man than his antagonist, and the
latter's violence shook him.
"But does M. de Saintonge deny," St. Germain broke out afresh before
the King could speak, "that my friend had made him a proposal for his
daughter? and that he rejected it?"
"I deny nothing!" Saintonge cried, fierce and trembling as a baited
animal. "For that matter, I would to Heaven he had had her!" he
continued bitterly.
"Ay, so you say now," the irrepressible St. Germain retorted, "when you
know that he is dead!"
"I do not know that he is dead," Saintonge answered. "And, for that
matter, if he were alive and here now he should have her. I am tired;
I have suffered enough."
"What! Do you tell the King," the young fellow replied incredulously,
"that if St. Mesmin were here you would give him your daughter?"
"I do--I do!" the other exclaimed passionately. "To be rid of him,
and you, and all your crew!"
"Tut, tut!" the King said. "Whatever betides, I will answer for it,
you shall have protection and justice, M. de Saintonge. And do you,
young sir, be silent. Be silent, do you hear! We have had too much
noise introduced into this already."
He proceeded then to ask certain details, and particularly the hour at
which St. Mesmin had been last seen. Notwithstanding that these facts
were in the main matters of common agreement, some wrangling took place
over them; which was only brought to an end at last in a manner
sufficiently startling. The King with his usual thoughtfulness had
bidden St. Mesmin be seated. On a sudden the old man rose; I heard him
utter a cry of amazement, and following the direction of his eyes I
looked towards the door. There stood his son!
At an appearance so unexpected a dozen exclamations filled the air; but
to describe the scene which ensued or the various emotions that were
evinced by this or that person, as surprise or interest or affection
moved them, were a task on which I am not inclined to enter. Suffice
it that the foremost and the loudest in these expressions of admiration
was young St. Germain; and that the King, after glancing from face to
face in puzzled perplexity, began to make a shrewd guess at the truth.
"This is a very timely return, M. de St. Mesmin," he said drily.
"Yes, sire," the young impertinent answered, not a whit abashed.
"Very timely, indeed."
"Yes, sire. And the more as St. Germain tells me that M. de Saintonge
in his clemency has reconsidered my claims; and has undertaken to use
that influence with Mademoiselle which--"
But on that word M. de Saintonge, comprehending the RUSE by which he
had been overcome, cut him short; crying out in a rage that he would
see him in perdition first. However, we all immediately took the
Marquis in hand, and made it our business to reconcile him to the
notion; the King even making a special appeal to him, and promising
that St. Mesmin should never want his good offices. Under this
pressure, and confronted by his solemn undertaking, Saintonge at last
and with reluctance gave way. At the King's instance, he formally gave
his consent to a match which effectually secured St. Mesmin's fortunes,
and was as much above anything the young fellow could reasonably expect
as his audacity and coolness exceeded the common conceit of courtiers.
Many must still remember St. Mesmin; though an attack of the small-pox,
which disfigured him beyond the ordinary, led him to leave Paris soon
after his marriage. He was concerned, I believe, in the late
ill-advised rising in the Vivarais; and at that time his wife still
lived. But for some years past I have not heard his name, and only now
recall it as that of one whose adventures, thrust on my attention,
formed an amusing interlude in the more serious cares which now demand
our notice.