In the month of August of this year the King found some alleviation of
the growing uneasiness which his passion for Madame de Conde occasioned
him in a visit to Monceaux, where he spent two weeks in such diversions
as the place afforded. He invited me to accompany him, but on my
representing that I could not there--so easily as in my own closet,
where I had all the materials within reach--prepare the report which he
had commanded me to draw up, he directed me to remain in Paris until it
was ready, and then to join him.
This report which he was having written, not only for his own
satisfaction but for the information of his heir, took the form of a
recital of all the causes and events, spread over many years, which had
induced him to take in hand the Great Design; together with a succinct
account of the munitions and treasures which he had prepared to carry
it out. As it included many things which were unknown beyond the
council, and some which he shared only with me--and as, in particular,
it enumerated the various secret alliances and agreements which he had
made with the princes of North Germany, whom a premature discovery must
place at the Emperor's mercy--it was necessary that I should draw up
the whole with my own hand, and with the utmost care and precaution.
This I did; and that nothing might be wanting to a memorial which I
regarded with justice as the most important of the many State papers
which it had fallen to my lot; to prepare, I spent seven days in
incessant labour upon it. It was not, therefore, until the third week
in August: that I was free to travel to Monceaux.
I found my quarters assigned to me in a pavilion called the Garden
House; and, arriving at supper time, sat down with my household with
more haste and less ceremony than was my wont. The same state of things
prevailed, I suppose, in the kitchen; for we had not been seated half
an hour when a great hubbub arose in the house, and the servants
rushing in cried out that a fire had broken out below, and that the
house was in danger of burning.
In such emergencies I take it to be the duty of a man of standing to
bear himself with as much dignity as is consistent with vigour; and
neither to allow himself to be carried away by the outcry and disorder
of the crowd, nor to omit any direction that may avail. On this
occasion, however, my first thought was given to the memorial I had
prepared for the King; which I remembered had been taken with other
books and papers to a room over the kitchen. I lost not a moment,
therefore, in sending Maignan for it; nor until I held it safely in my
hand did I feel myself at liberty to think of the house. When I did, I
found that the alarm exceeded the danger; a few buckets of water
extinguished a beam in the chimney which had caught fire, and in a few
moments we were able to resume the meal with the added vivacity which
such an event gave to the conversation. It has never been my custom to
encourage too great freedom at my table; but as the company consisted,
with a single exception, of my household, and as this person--a
Monsieur de Vilain, a young gentleman, the cousin of one of my wife's
maids-of-honour--showed himself possessed of modesty as well as wit, I
thought that the time excused a little relaxation.
This was the cause of the misfortune which followed, and bade fair to
place me in a position of as great difficulty as I have ever known;
for, having in my good humour dismissed the servants, I continued to
talk for an hour or more with Vilain and some of my gentlemen; the
result being that I so far forgot myself, when I rose, as to leave the
report where I had laid it on the table. In the passage I met a man
whom the King had sent to inquire about the fire; and thus reminded of
the papers I turned back to the room; greatly vexed with myself for
negligence which in a subordinate I should have severely rebuked, but
never doubting that I should find the packet where I had left it.
To my chagrin the paper was gone. Still I could not believe that it
had been stolen, and supposing that Maignan or one of my household had
seen it and taken it to my closet, I repaired thither in haste. I
found Maignan already there, with M. Boisrueil, one of my gentlemen,
who was waiting to ask a favour; but they knew nothing of the report,
and though I sent them down forthwith, with directions to make strict
but quiet inquiry, they returned at the end of half an hour with long
faces and no news.
Then I grew seriously alarmed; and reflecting on the many important
secrets which the memorial contained, whereof a disclosure must spoil
plans so long and sedulously prepared, I found myself brought on a
sudden face to face with disaster. I could not imagine how the King,
who had again and again urged on me the utmost precaution, would take
such a catastrophe; nor how I should make it known to him. For a
moment, therefore, while I listened to the tale, I felt the hair rise
on my head and a shiver descend my back; nor was it without an uncommon
effort that I retained my coolness and composure.
Plainly no steps in such a position could be too stringent. I sent
Maignan with an order to close all the doors and let no one pass out.
Then I made sure that none of the servants had entered the room,
between the time of my rising and return; and this narrowed the tale of
those who could have taken the packet to eleven, that being the number
of persons who had sat down with me. But having followed the matter so
far, I came face to face with this difficulty: that all the eleven
were, with one exception, in my service and in various ways pledged to
my interests, so that I could not conceive even the possibility of a
betrayal by them in a matter so important.
I confess, at this, the perspiration rose upon my brow; for the paper
was gone. Still, there remained one stranger; and though it seemed
scarcely less difficult to suspect him, since he could have no
knowledge of the importance of the document, and could not have
anticipated that I should leave it in his power, I found in that the
only likely solution. He was one of the Vilains of Pareil by Monceaux,
his father living on the edge of the park, little more than a thousand
yards from the chateau; and I knew no harm of him. Still, I knew
little; and for that reason was forward to believe that there, rather
than in my own household, lay the key to the enigma.
My suspicions were not lessened when I discovered that he alone of the
party at table had left the house before the doors were closed; and for
a moment I was inclined to have him followed and seized. But I could
scarcely take a step so decisive without provoking inquiry; and I dared
not at this stage let the King know of my negligence. I found myself,
therefore, brought up short, in a state of exasperation and doubt
difficult to describe; and the most minute search within the house and
the closest examination of all concerned failing to provide the
slightest clue, I had no alternative but to pass the night in that
condition.
On the morrow a third search seeming still the only resource, and
proving as futile as the others, I ordered La Trape and two or three in
whom I placed the greatest confidence to watch their fellows, and
report anything in their bearing or manner that seemed to be out of the
ordinary course; while I myself went to wait; on the King, and parry
his demand for the memorial as well as I could. This it was necessary
to do without provoking curiosity; and as the lapse of each minute made
the pursuit of the paper less hopeful and its recovery a thing to pray
for rather than expect, it will be believed that I soon found the
aspect of civility which I was obliged to wear so great a trial of my
patience, that I made an excuse and retired early to my lodging.
Here my wife, who shared my anxiety, met me with a face full of
meaning. I cried out to know if they had found the paper.
"No," she answered; "but if you will come into your closet I will tell
you what I have learned."
I went in with her, and she told me briefly that the manner of
Mademoiselle de Mars, one of her maids, had struck her as suspicious.
The girl had begun to cry while reading to her; and when questioned had
been able to give no explanation of her trouble.
"She is Vilain's cousin?" I said.
"Yes, monsieur."
"Bring her to me," I said. "Bring her to me without the delay of an
instant."
My wife hastened to comply; and whatever had been the girl's state
earlier, before the fright of this hasty summons had upset her, her
agitation when thus confronted with me gave me, before a word was
spoken, the highest hopes that I had here the key to the mystery. I
judged that it might be necessary to frighten her still more, and I
started by taking a harsh tone with her; but before I had said many
words she obviated the necessity of this by falling at my wife's feet
and protesting that she would tell all.
"Then speak quickly, wench!" I said. "You know where the paper is."
"I know who has it!" she answered, in a voice choked with sobs.
"Who?"
"My cousin, M. de Vilain."
"Ha! and has taken it to his house?"
But she seemed for a moment unable to answer this; her distress being
such that my wife had to fetch a vial of pungent salts to restore her
before she could say more. At length she found voice to tell us that
M. de Vilain had taken the paper, and was this evening to hand it to an
agent of the Spanish ambassador.
"But, girl," I said sternly, "how do you know this?"
Then she confessed that the cousin was also the lover, and had before
employed her to disclose what went on in my household, and anything of
value that could be discovered there. Doubtless the girl, for whom my
wife, in spite of her occasional fits of reserve and temper,
entertained no little liking, enjoyed many opportunities of prying; and
would have continued still to serve him had not this last piece of
villainy, with the stir which it caused in the house and the rigorous
punishment to be expected in the event of discovery, proved too much
for her nerves. Hence this burst of confession; which once allowed to
flow, ran on almost against her will. Nor did I let her pause to
consider the full meaning of what she was saying until I had learned
that Vilain was to meet the ambassador's agent an hour after sunset at
the east end of a clump of trees which stood in the park; and being
situate between his, Vilain's, residence and the chateau, formed a
convenient place for such a transaction.
"He will have it about him?" I said.
She sobbed a moment, but presently confessed. "Yes; or it will be in
the hollow of the most easterly tree. He was to leave it there, if the
agent could not keep the appointment."
"Good!" I said; and then, having assured myself by one or two
questions of that, of which her state of distress and agitation left me
in little doubt--namely, that she was telling the truth--I committed
her to my wife's care; bidding the Duchess lock her up in a safe place
upstairs, and treat her to bread and water until I had taken the steps
necessary to prove the fact, and secure the paper.
After this--but I should be tedious were I to describe the alternations
of hope and fear in which I passed the period of suspense. Suffice it
that I informed no one, not even Maignan, of what I had discovered, but
allowed those in the secret of the loss still to pursue their efforts;
while I, by again attending the Court, endeavoured at once to mitigate
the King's impatience and persuade the world that all was well. A
little before the appointed time, however I made a pretext to rise from
supper, and quietly calling out Boisrueil, bade him bring four of the
men, armed, and Maignan and La Trape. With this small body I made my
way out by a private door, and crossed the park to the place
Mademoiselle had, indicated.
Happily, night had already begun to close in, and the rendezvous was at
the farther side of the clump of trees. Favoured by these
circumstances, we were able to pass round the thicket--some on one side
and some on the other---without noise or disturbance; and fortunate
enough, having arrived at the place, to discover a man walking uneasily
up and down on the very spot where we expected to find him. The
evening was so far advanced that it was not possible to be sure that
the man was Vilain; but as all depended on seizing him before he had
any communication with the Spanish agent, I gave the signal, and two of
my men, springing on him from either side, in a moment bore him to the
ground and secured him.
He proved to be Vilain, so that, when he was brought face to face with
me, I was much less surprised than he affected to be. He played the
part of an ignorant so well, indeed, that, for a moment, I was
staggered by his show of astonishment, and by the earnestness with
which he denounced the outrage; nor could Maignan find anything on him.
But, a moment later, remembering the girl's words, I strode to the
nearest tree, and, groping about it, in a twinkling unearthed the paper
from a little hollow in the trunk that seemed to have been made to
receive it. I need not say with what relief I found the seals
unbroken; nor with what indignation I turned on the villain thus
convicted of an act of treachery towards the King only less black than
the sin against hospitality of which he had been guilty in my house.
But the discovery I had made seemed enough of itself to overwhelm him;
for, after standing apparently stunned while I spoke, he jerked himself
suddenly out of his captors' hands, and made a desperate attempt to
escape. Finding this hopeless, and being seized again before he had
gone four paces, he shouted, at the top of his voice: "Back! back!
Go back!"
We looked about, somewhat startled, and Boisrueil, with presence of
mind, ran into the darkness to see if he could detect the person
addressed; but though he thought that he saw the skirt of a flying
cloak disappear in the gloom, he was not sure; and I, having no mind to
be mixed up with the ambassador, called him back. I asked Vilain to
whom he had called, but the young man, turning sullen, would answer
nothing except that he knew naught of the paper. I thought it best,
therefore, to conduct him at once to my lodgings, whither it will be
believed that I returned with a lighter heart than I had gone out. It
was, indeed, a providential escape.
How to punish the traitor was another matter, for I could scarcely do
so adequately without betraying my negligence. I determined to sleep
on this, however, and, for the night, directed him to be locked into a
chamber in the south-west turret, with a Swiss to guard the door; my
intention being to interrogate him farther on the morrow. However,
Henry sent for me so early that I was forced to postpone my
examination; and, being detained by him until evening, I thought it
best to tell him, before I left, what had happened.
He heard the story with a look of incredulity, which, little by little,
gave way to a broad smile. "Well," he said, "Grand Master, never chide
me again! I have heard that Homer sometimes nods; but if I were to
tell this to Sillery or Villeroy, they would not believe me."
"They would believe anything that your Majesty told them," I said.
"But you will not tell them this?"
"No," he said kindly, "I will not; and there is my hand on it. For the
matter of that, if it had happened to them, they would not have told
me."
"And perhaps been the wiser for that," I said.
"Don't believe it," he answered. "But now, what of this young Vilain?
You have him safe?"
"Yes, sire."
"The girl is one degree worse; she betrays both sides to save her skin."
"Still, I promised--"
"Oh, she must go," Henry said. "I quite understand. But for him--we
had better have no scandal. Keep him until to-morrow, and I will see
his father, and have him sent out of the country."
"And he will go scot free," I said, bluntly, "when a rope and the
nearest tree--"
"Yes, my friend," Henry answered with a dry smile; "but that should
have been done last night. As it is, he is your guest and we must give
an account of him. But first drain him dry. Frighten him, as you
please, and get all out of him; then I wish them joy of him. Faugh!
and he a young man! I would not be his father for two such crowns as
mine!"
As I returned to my lodgings I thought over these words; and I fell to
wondering by what stages Vilain had sunk so low. Occasionally admitted
to my table, he had always borne himself with a modesty and discretion
that had not failed to prepossess me; indeed, the longer I considered
the King's saying, the greater was the surprise I felt at this
DENOUEMENT; which left me in doubt whether my dullness exceeded my
negligence or the young man's parts surpassed his wickedness.
A few questions, I thought, might resolve this; but having been
detained by the King until supper-time, I postponed the interview until
I rose. Then bidding them bring in the prisoner, I assumed my harshest
aspect and prepared to blast him by discovering all his vileness to his
face.
But when I had waited a little, only Maignan came in, with an air of
consternation that brought me to my feet. "Why, man, what is it?" I
cried.
"The prisoner," he faltered. "If your excellency pleases--"
"I do not please!" I said sternly, believing that I knew what had
happened. "Is he dead?"
"No, your excellency; but, he has escaped."
"Escaped? From that room?"
Maignan nodded.
"Then, PAR DIEU!" I replied, "the man who was on guard shall suffer in
his place! Escaped? How could he escape except by treachery? Where
was the guard?"
"He was there, excellency. And he says that no one passed him."
"Yet the man is gone?"
"The room is empty."
"But the window--the window, fool, is fifty feet from the ground!" I
said. "And not so much footing outside as would hold a crow!"
Maignan shrugged his shoulders, and in a rage I bade him follow me, and
went myself to view the place; to which a number of my people had
already flocked with lights, so that I found some difficulty in
mounting the staircase. A very brief inspection, however, sufficed to
confirm my first impression that Vilain could have escaped by the door
only; for the window, though it lacked bars and boasted a tiny balcony,
hung over fifty feet of sheer depth, so that evasion that way seemed in
the absence of ladder or rope purely impossible. This being clear, I
ordered the Swiss to be seized; and as he could give no explanation of
the escape, and still persisted that he was as much in the dark as
anyone, I declared that I would make an example of him, and hang him
unless the prisoner was recaptured within three days.
I did not really propose to do this, but in my irritation I spoke so
roundly that my people believed me; even Boisrueil, who presently came
to intercede for the culprit, who, it seemed, was a favourite. "As for
Vilain," he continued; "you can catch him whenever you please."
"Then catch him before the end of three days," I answered obstinately,
"and the man lives."
The truth was that Vilain's escape placed me in a position of some
discomfort; for though, on the one hand, I had no particular desire to
get him again into my hands, seeing that the King could effect as much
by a word to his father as I had proposed to do while I held him safe;
on the other hand, the evasion placed me very peculiarly in regard to
the King himself, who was inclined to think me ill or suddenly grown
careless. Some of the facts, too, were leaking out, and provoking
smiles among the more knowing, and a hint here and there; the result of
all being that, unable to pursue the matter farther in Vilain's case, I
hardened my heart and persisted that the Swiss should pay the penalty.
This obstinacy on my part had an unforeseen issue. On the evening of
the second day, a little before supper-time, my wife came to me, and
announced that a young lady had waited on her with a tale so remarkable
that she craved leave to bring her to me that I might hear it.
"What is it?" I said impatiently.
"It is about M. Vilain," my wife answered, her face still wearing all
the marks of lively astonishment.
"Ha!" I exclaimed. "I will see her then. But it is not that baggage
who--"
"No," my wife answered. "It is another."
"One of your maids?"
"No, a stranger."
"Well, bring her," I said shortly.
She went, and quickly returned with a young lady, whose face and modest
bearing were known to me, though I could not, at the moment, recall her
name. This was the less remarkable as I am not prone to look much in
maids' faces, leaving that to younger men; and Mademoiselle de
Figeac's, though beautiful, was disfigured on this occasion by the
marked distress under which she was labouring. Accustomed as I was to
the visits of persons of all classes and characters who came to me
daily with petitions, I should have been disposed to cut her short, but
for my wife's intimation that her errand had to do with the matter
which annoyed me. This, as well as a trifle of curiosity--from which
none are quite free--inclined me to be patient; and I asked her what
she would have with me.
"Justice, M. le Duc," she answered simply. "I have heard that you are
seeking M. de Vilain, and that one of your people is lying under
sentence for complicity in his escape."
"That is true, mademoiselle," I said. "If you can tell me--"
"I can tell you how he escaped, and by whose aid," she answered.
It is my custom to betray no astonishment, even when I am astonished.
"Do so," I said.
"He escaped through the window," she answered firmly, "by my brother's
aid."
"Your brother's?" I exclaimed, amazed at her audacity. "I do not
remember him."
"He is only thirteen years old."
I could hide my astonishment no longer. "You must be mad, girl!" I
said, "mad! You do not know what you are saying! The window of the
room in which Vilain was confined is fifty feet from the ground, and
you say that your brother, a boy of thirteen, contrived his escape?"
"Yes, M. de Sully," she answered. "And the man who is about to suffer
is innocent."
"How was it done, then?" I asked, not knowing what to think of her
persistence.
"My brother was flying a kite that day," she answered. "He had been
doing so for a week or more, and everyone was accustomed to seeing him
here. After sunset, the wind being favourable, he came under M. de
Vilain's window, and, when it was nearly dark, and the servants and
household were at supper, he guided the kite against the balcony
outside the window."
"But a man cannot descend by a kite-string!"
"My brother had a knotted rope, which M. de Vilain drew up," she
answered simply; "and afterwards, when he had descended, disengaged."