V.

A few words will suffice to explain Nanon's residence near the village

of Matifou. As we have said, the Duc d'Épernon was intensely hated in

Guyenne. Nanon, who had been honored by being transformed into his evil

genius, was execrated. The popular outcry drove them from Bordeaux to

Agen. But at Agen it began anew. One day the gilded carriage in which

Nanon was driving to join the duke was overturned upon a bridge. By

some unexplained means, Nanon found herself in the river, and Canolles

pulled her out. One night Nanon's residence in the city took fire, and

Canolles it was who made his way to her bedroom and saved her from the

flames. Nanon concluded that the Agenois might probably succeed at the

third trial. Although Canolles left her side as little as possible, it

would be a miracle if he should always happen to be on hand at a given

point to rescue her. She availed herself of the duke's absence on a

tour through the province, and of an escort of twelve hundred men, of

whom the Navailles regiment furnished its quota, to leave the city at

the same time with Canolles, hurling defiance from her carriage windows

at the populace, who would have liked nothing so much as to wreck the

carriage, but dared not.

Thereafter the duke and Nanon selected, or rather Canolles had secretly

selected for them, the little country-house where it was decided that

Nanon should remain while an establishment was being prepared for her

at Libourne. Canolles procured a leave of absence, ostensibly in order

to attend to some private business at his home, really so that he might

be at liberty to leave his regiment, which had returned to Agen, and to

remain within a reasonable distance of Matifou, where his protecting

presence was more necessary than ever.

In fact, events were becoming alarmingly serious. The princes of

Condé, Conti, and Longueville, who had been arrested and imprisoned at

Vincennes on the 17th January preceding, afforded an excellent pretext

for civil war to the four or five factions which divided France at

that epoch. The unpopularity of the Duc d'Épernon, who was known to

be entirely devoted to the court, continued to increase, although it

was reasonable to hope that it had reached its limit. A catastrophe,

earnestly desired by all the factions, who, under the extraordinary

conditions prevailing in France at the time, did not themselves know

where they stood, was imminent. Nanon, like the birds which see the

storm approaching, disappeared from the sky and betook herself to her

leafy nest, there to await the result unknown and in obscurity.

She gave herself out as a widow, desirous of living in seclusion. So

Master Biscarros described her, the reader will remember.

Monsieur d'Épernon paid her a visit, and announced his intention

of being absent for a week. As soon as he took his leave of her,

Nanon sent by the tax-collector, her _protégé_, a little note to

Canolles, who was making use of his leave of absence to remain in the

neighborhood. But, as we have seen, the original note had disappeared

in the messenger's hands, and had become a copy under Cauvignac's pen.

The reckless young nobleman was making all haste to obey the summons

contained therein, when the Vicomte de Cambes stopped him four hundred

yards from his destination. We know the rest.

Nanon therefore was awaiting Canolles, as a woman who loves is wont

to await the loved one, consulting her watch ten times a minute,

walking to the window again and again, listening to every sound,

gazing questioningly at the sun as it sank in ruddy splendor behind

the mountain, to give place to the first shades of night. The first

knocking was at the front door, and she despatched Francinette thither;

but it was only the pseudo-waiter from the inn, bringing the supper

for which the guest was lacking. Nanon looked out into the hall and

saw Master Biscarros' false servant, who, for his part, stole a glance

into the bedroom, where a tiny table was set with two covers. Nanon

bade Francinette keep the dishes hot, then sadly closed the door and

returned to the window, which showed her the road still deserted as far

as she could see it in the gathering darkness.

A second knock, a peculiar knock, was heard, this time at the back

door, and Nanon cried,--

"Here he is!"

But still she feared that it was not he, and stopped in the middle of

the room. The next moment the door opened, and Mademoiselle Francinette

appeared on the threshold in evident consternation, holding the letter

in her hand. Nanon spied the paper, rushed up to her, tore it from her

hand, hastily opened it, and read it in an agony of fear.

The perusal of the letter was like a thunder-clap to Nanon. She dearly

loved Canolles, but with her, ambition was almost equal to love, and

in losing the Duc d'Épernon she would lose not only all her hopes of

fortune to come, but perhaps her accumulated wealth as well. However,

as she was a quick-witted siren, she began by putting out the candle,

which would have caused her shadow to betray her movements, and ran

to the window. It was time; four men were approaching the house,

and were not more than fifty feet away. The man in the cloak walked

first, and in the man in the cloak Nanon recognized the duke beyond a

peradventure. At that moment Mademoiselle Francinette entered, candle

in hand. Nanon glanced despairingly at the table and the two covers,

at the two arm-chairs, at the two embroidered pillows, which displayed

their insolent whiteness against the background of crimson damask

bed-curtains, and at her fascinating _négligé_, which harmonized so

well with all the rest.

"I am lost!" she thought.

But almost immediately her wits returned to her, and a smile stole over

her face; like a flash she seized the plain glass tumbler intended for

Canolles, and threw it out into the garden, took from its box a golden

goblet adorned with the duke's arms, and placed beside his plate his

silver cover; then, shivering with fear, but with a forced smile upon

her face, she rushed down the stairs, and reached the door just as a

grave, solemn blow was struck upon it.

Francinette was about to open the door, but Nanon caught her by the

arm, thrust her aside, and said, with that swift glance which, with

women taken by surprise, serves so well to complete their thought,--

"I am waiting for Monsieur le Duc, not for Monsieur de Canolles. Serve

the supper!"

With that she drew the bolts herself, and threw herself upon the neck

of the man with the white plume, who was preparing to greet her with a

most savage expression.

"Ah!" she cried, "my dream did not play me false! Come, my dear duke,

everything is ready, and we will go to supper at once."

D'Épernon was dumfounded; however, as a caress from a pretty woman is

always acceptable, he allowed himself to be kissed.

But the next moment he remembered what overwhelming proof he possessed.

"One moment, mademoiselle," he said; "let us have an understanding, if

you please."

With a wave of his hand to his followers, who drew back respectfully

but did not go away altogether, the duke entered the house alone, with

slow and measured step.

"Pray, what's the matter, my dear duke?" said Nanon, with such

well-feigned gayety that any one might have thought it natural; "did

you forget something the last time you were here, that you look around

so carefully on all sides?"

"Yes," said the duke; "I forgot to tell you that I am not a consummate

ass, a Géronte, such as Monsieur Cyrano de Bergerac introduces in his

comedies, and having forgotten to tell it you, I have returned in

person to prove it to you."

"I do not understand you, monseigneur," said Nanon, with the most

tranquil and sincere expression imaginable. "Explain yourself, I beg."

The duke's eyes rested on the two arm-chairs, and passed thence to the

two covers and the two pillows. There they paused for a longer time,

while an angry flush overspread his face.

Nanon had foreseen all this, and she awaited the result of his

scrutiny with a smile which disclosed her pearly teeth. But the smile

strongly resembled a contraction of the nerves, and her teeth would

have chattered if anguish had not kept them pressed tightly together.

The duke at last fixed his wrathful gaze upon her.

"I am still awaiting your Lordship's pleasure," said Nanon, with a

graceful courtesy.

"My Lordship's pleasure is that you explain this supper."

"I have already told you that I dreamed that you would return to-day

although you left me only yesterday. My dreams never fail to come true,

so I ordered this supper purposely for you."

The duke made a grimace which he intended to pass off for an ironical

smile.

"And the two pillows?" he said.

"Pray, is it monseigneur's intention to return to Libourne? In that

case, my dream lied to me, for it told me that monseigneur would

remain."

The duke made a second grimace even more significant than the first.

"And this charming _négligé_, madame? And these exquisite perfumes?"

"It is one of those I am accustomed to wear when I expect monseigneur.

The perfume comes from sachets of _peau d'Espagne_, which I put in my

wardrobes, and which monseigneur has often told me he preferred to all

others, because it is the queen's favorite perfume."

"And so you were expecting me?" rejoined the duke, with a sneering

laugh.

"Good lack, monseigneur," said Nanon, frowning; "I believe, God forgive

me, that you would like to look in the closets. Are you jealous by any

chance?"

Nanon laughed aloud, whereat the duke assumed his most majestic air.

"I, jealous? No, no! Thank God, I'm no such idiot as that. Being old

and rich, I know naturally that I was made to be deceived, but I

propose to prove to those who deceive me that I am not their dupe."

"How will you prove it, pray? I am curious to know."

"Oh! it will be an easy matter. I shall simply have to show them this

paper."

He took a letter from his pocket.

"I don't dream, myself," he said; "at my age one doesn't dream,

even when awake; but I receive letters. Read this one; it's very

interesting."

Nanon shuddered as she took the letter the duke handed her, and started

when she saw the writing; but the movement was imperceptible, and she

read,--

"'Monseigneur le Duc d'Épernon is informed that a man who, for six

months past, has been on familiar terms with Mademoiselle Nanon de

Lartigues, will visit her this evening, and will remain to supper and

to sleep.

"'As I do not desire to leave Monseigneur le Duc d'Épernon in

uncertainty, he is informed that his fortunate rival is Monsieur le

Baron de Canolles.'"

Nanon turned pale; the blow struck home.

"Ah! Roland! Roland!" she murmured, "I believed myself to be well rid

of you."

"Am I well informed?" queried the duke, triumphantly.

"Not by any means," retorted Nanon; "and if your political police is no

better organized than your amorous police, I pity you."

"You pity me?"

"Yes; for this Monsieur de Canolles, whom you gratuitously honor by

believing him to be your rival, is not here, and you are at liberty to

wait and see if he comes."

"He has come."

"He?" cried Nanon. "That is not true!"

There was an unmistakable accent of truth in this exclamation of the

accused.

"I mean that he came within four hundred yards, and stopped at the

Golden Calf, luckily for him."

Nanon saw that the duke was not nearly so well informed as she had

supposed at first; she shrugged her shoulders as another idea, prompted

doubtless by the letter, which she was folding and unfolding in her

hands, began to take root in her mind.

"Is it possible," said she, "that a man of intellect, one of the

cleverest politicians in the kingdom, allows himself to be gulled by

anonymous letters?"

"That's all very well; but how do you explain this letter, anonymous or

not?"

"Why, the explanation's very simple; it's simply a continuation of

the generous proceedings of our friends at Agen. Monsieur de Canolles

applied to you for leave of absence on account of urgent private

business, and you granted it; they found out that he had come in this

direction, and this absurd accusation has no other foundation than his

journey."

Nanon noticed that the duke's features did not relax, but that his

scowl became more pronounced.

"The explanation would answer, if the letter you attribute to your

friends had not a certain postscript, which, in your confusion, you

omitted to read."

The young woman shivered with terror; she realized that, if chance did

not come to her assistance, she could not long continue the struggle.

"A postscript?" she repeated.

"Yes; read it," said the duke; "you have the letter in your hands."

Nanon tried to smile; but she felt that her distorted features would

not lend their aid to any such demonstration; she contented herself,

therefore, with reading aloud, in the firmest tones she could command,--

"'I have in my possession Mademoiselle de Lartigues' letter

to Monsieur de Canolles, making the appointment I mention

for this evening. I will give up the letter in exchange for

a paper signed in blank by Monsieur d'Épernon, to be handed

to me by a man, alone in a boat on the Dordogne, opposite

the village of Saint-Michel-la-Rivière, at six o'clock in

the evening.'"

"And you were so imprudent--" continued Nanon.

"Your handwriting is so precious to me, dear lady, that I thought I

could not pay too high a price for a letter of yours."

"And you revealed such a secret to the possible indiscretion of one of

your servants! Oh! Monsieur le Duc!"

"Such confidences, madame, a man should receive in person, and I so

received this one. I, myself, was waiting in the boat on the Dordogne."

"Then you have my letter?"

"Here it is."

Nanon made a superhuman effort to remember the exact contents of the

letter, but it was impossible; her brain was beginning to be confused.

She had no alternative, therefore, but to take her own letter and read

it. It contained barely three lines; Nanon ran her eye over them in

eager haste, and saw, with unspeakable delight, that the letter did not

compromise her beyond all hope.

"Read it aloud," said the duke; "like you, I have forgotten what the

letter contains."

Nanon found the smile she had sought in vain a few seconds before, and

complied with the duke's suggestion.

"'I shall take supper at eight o'clock. Are you free? I am.

If so, be punctual, my dear Canolles, and have no fear for

our secret.'"

"I should say that that is explicit enough," cried the duke, pale with

rage.

"That is my salvation," thought Nanon.

"So you have a secret with Monsieur de Canolles, have you?" continued

the duke.