If we now turn aside for a moment and cast a glance at the princesses
of the house of Condé in their exile at Chantilly, of which Richon drew
such a distressing picture to the viscount, this is what we shall see.
Beneath the spreading chestnuts, powdered with snowy blossoms, on the
smooth, velvety lawns sloping down to the peaceful blue ponds, a swarm
of laughing, chatting, singing promenaders wandered to and fro. Here
and there amid the tall grass could be seen the figure of a solitary
reader, lost in waves of verdure, where naught could be distinctly
seen save the white page of the book in her hand, which belonged
perhaps to M. de la Calprenède's _Cléopâtre_, to M. d'Urfé's _Astrée_,
or to Mademoiselle de Scudéry's _Grand Cyrus._ Beneath the arbors of
honeysuckle and clematis could be heard the sweet strains of lutes, and
invisible voices singing. At intervals a horseman, bearing a despatch,
passed like a flash along the main avenue leading to the château.
Meanwhile, upon the terrace, three women, dressed in satin, and
followed at a distance by mute and respectful equerries, were walking
gravely to and fro with ceremonious, majestic gestures: in the middle,
a lady of noble and stately figure, despite her fifty-seven years,
was holding forth magisterially upon affairs of state; at her right,
a young lady clad in garments of sombre hue, and holding herself
stiffly erect, listened with contracted brows to her neighbor's learned
views; at her left another older lady, the stiffest and primmest of
the three, because she was of less illustrious rank, was talking,
listening, and meditating all at once.
The lady in the middle was the dowager princess, mother of the victor
of Rocroy, Norlingen and Lens, who was just beginning, since he had
become an object of persecution, and the persecution had landed him at
Vincennes, to be called the Great Condé, a name which posterity has
continued to bestow upon him. This lady, upon whose features could
still be detected traces of that beauty which made her the object of
the last and maddest of all the passions of Henri IV., had been wounded
in her mother love, and in her pride as princess of the blood, by a
_facchino Italiano_, who was called Mazarini when he was Cardinal
Bentivoglio's servant, but who was now called His Eminence Cardinal
Mazarin, since he had become Anne of Austria's lover, and First
Minister of the Kingdom of France.
He it was who dared to imprison Condé, and to send the noble prisoner's
wife and mother into exile at Chantilly.
The lady at her right was Claire-Clémence de Maillé, Princesse de
Condé, who, in accordance with an aristocratic custom of the time, was
called Madame la Princesse simply, to signify that the wife of the
head of the Condé family was the first princess of the blood, _the_
princess _par excellence_: she was always proud, but her pride had
gained in intensity since her persecution, and she had become haughty
and supercilious.
It was the fact that her husband's imprisonment raised her to the rank
of a heroine, after being compelled to play only a secondary part so
long as he was free; her state was more deplorable than widowhood, and
her son, the Duc d'Enghien, just completing his seventh year, was more
interesting than an orphan. The eyes of the nation were upon her, and
without fear of being laughed at, she dressed in mourning. Since the
forced exile of these two weeping women by direction of Anne of Austria
their piercing shrieks had changed to muttered threats: from being the
victims of oppression they had become rebels. Madame la Princesse,
Themistocles in a mobcap, had her Miltiades in petticoats, and the
laurels of Madame de Longueville, for an instant Queen of Paris,
disturbed her slumbers.
The duenna at the left was the Marquise de Tourville, who did not
venture to write novels, but exercised her pen upon political subjects:
she did not make war in person like the valorous Pompée, nor did she,
like him, receive a bullet at the battle of Corbie; but her husband,
who was a highly esteemed officer, was wounded at La Rochelle and
killed at Fribourg,--the result being that she inherited his fortune,
and fancied that she inherited at the same time his genius for war.
Since she joined the Princesses de Condé at Chantilly she had sketched
three plans of campaign, all of which had successively aroused the
enthusiasm of the ladies of the suite, and had been, not abandoned,
but postponed until the moment when the sword should be drawn and the
scabbard thrown away. She did not dare put on her husband's uniform,
although she sometimes longed to do so; but she had his sword hanging
in her room over the head of her bed, and now and then, when she was
alone, she would draw it from its sheath with an exceedingly martial
air.
Chantilly, notwithstanding its holiday aspect, was in reality nothing
but a vast barrack, and a diligent search would have discovered powder
in the cellars, and bayonets in the hedgerows.
The three ladies, in their lugubrious promenade, bent their steps
toward the main door of the château, and seemed to be expecting the
arrival of some messenger with important news. Several times the
princess dowager had said, shaking her head and sighing:--
"We shall fail, my daughter! we shall be humiliated."
"We must expect to pay something as the price of the great glory we are
to win," said Madame de Tourville, without relaxing the stiffness of
her demeanor in any respect; "there is no victory without a combat!"
"If we fail, if we are vanquished," said the young princess, "we will
avenge ourselves!"
"Madame," said the princess dowager, "if we fail, it will be that God
has vanquished Monsieur le Prince. Pray, would you dream of seeking to
be revenged on God?"
The younger princess bowed her head before her mother-in-law's superb
humility; indeed, these three personages, saluting one another thus and
offering incense at one another's shrine, were not unlike a bishop and
two deacons, who make God the pretext of their mutual homage.
"Neither Monsieur de Turenne, Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld, nor
Monsieur de Bouillon," murmured the dowager; "they all fail us at once!"
"And no money!" added Madame de Tourville.
"On whom can we rely," said Madame la Princesse, "if Claire herself has
forgotten us?"
"Who tells you, my daughter, that Madame de Cambes has forgotten us?"
"She does not return."
"Perhaps she has been prevented; the roads are watched by Monsieur de
Saint-Aignan's army, you know."
"At all events she could write."
"How can you wish that she should put upon paper a reply of such
moment,--the adhesion of a city like Bordeaux to the party of the
princes? No, that is not the aspect of the affair which disturbs me
most by any means."
"Moreover," suggested Madame de Tourville, "one of the three plans
which I had the honor to lay before your Highness proposed an uprising
in Guyenne as a certain means of accomplishing an object."
"Yes, yes, and we will recur to it, if necessary," replied Madame la
Princesse: "but I agree with Madame my mother, and I begin to think
that Claire must have fallen under suspicion; otherwise she would be
here before this. Perhaps her farmers have failed to keep their word; a
peasant will always seize an opportunity to avoid paying his debts. And
who can say what the Guyenne people may or may not have done despite
their promises? Gascons!"
"Braggarts!" said Madame de Tourville; "brave individually, it may be,
but bad soldiers _en masse._ They do very well to shout, 'Vive Monsieur
le Prince!' when they're afraid of the Spaniard; that's all."
"They have a thorough detestation for Monsieur d'Épernon, however,"
said the princess dowager; "they hanged him in effigy at Agen, and
promised to hang him in person at Bordeaux, if he ever returned there."
"He will return there, and hang the braggarts themselves," said Madame
la Princesse, indignantly.
"And all this," rejoined Madame de Tourville, "is the fault of Monsieur
Lenet--Monsieur Pierre Lenet," she repeated affectedly, "the stubborn
adviser whom you persist in keeping by you, and who is good for nothing
but to thwart all our plans. If he had not frowned upon my second
plan, the purport of which was, you remember, to take by surprise
the château de Vayres, Île Saint-Georges, and the fort of Blaye, we
should be besieging Bordeaux ere now, and Bordeaux would be obliged to
capitulate."
"I prefer, with deference to their Highnesses' opinion, that Bordeaux
should open its gates of its own free will," said a voice behind Madame
de Tourville, in a tone of respect, not unmixed with a tinge of irony.
"A city that capitulates yields to force and incurs no obligation;
whereas a city which opens its gates freely, thereby compromises
itself, and must needs follow to the end the fortunes of those to whom
it has offered itself."
The three ladies turned and saw Pierre Lenet, who, as they were taking
one of their turns toward the main door of the château upon which their
eyes were constantly fixed, had emerged from a smaller door on a level
with the terrace, and approached them from behind.
What Madame de Tourville said was true in part. Pierre Lenet, one of
Monsieur le Prince's advisers, a cold, grave, but very shrewd man,
was commissioned by the prisoner to keep an eye on his friends and
foes alike, and it must be said that he had much more difficulty in
preventing the prince's friends from compromising his cause than in
foiling the evil designs of his foes. But, being endowed with the
cleverness and craft of a lawyer, and accustomed to the sharp practice
and jugglery of the tribunals, he usually triumphed, either by some
timely counterplot or by passive opposition. It was at Chantilly itself
that the battles had to be fought which taxed his powers to the utmost.
The self-esteem of Madame de Tourville, the impatience of Madame la
Princesse, and the aristocratic inflexibility of the dowager were quite
as hard to deal with as the astuteness of Mazarin, the pride of Anne
of Austria, and the indecision of the parliament.
Lenet, to whom the princes addressed their correspondence, had
established a rule that he would give the princesses no news except at
what he himself deemed an opportune time; for, as feminine diplomacy is
not always shrouded in mystery, which is the cardinal principle of the
masculine variety, many of Lenet's plans had been in this way betrayed
by his friends to his enemies.
The two princesses, who, notwithstanding the opposition they
encountered at his hands, none the less appreciated Pierre Lenet's
devotion, and especially his usefulness, welcomed him with a friendly
gesture; there was even the shadow of a smile upon the dowager's lips.
"Well, my dear Lenet," she said, "you heard Madame de Tourville
complaining, or rather commiserating us. Everything is going from bad
to worse. Ah! my dear Lenet, our affairs! our affairs!"
"Madame," said Lenet, "I am very far from taking so gloomy a view of
our affairs as your Highness. I hope much from time, and from a change
in the tide of fortune. You know the proverb: 'Everything succeeds with
him who knows how to wait.'"
"Time, and a change in the tide of fortune!" exclaimed Madame la
Princesse; "that's philosophy, and not politics, Monsieur Lenet!"
Lenet smiled.
"Philosophy is useful in all things, madame, especially in politics;
it teaches us not to be over-elated with success, and to be patient in
adversity."
"I care not!" said Madame de Tourville. "I would give more to see a
courier than for all your maxims; don't you say the same, Madame la
Princesse?"
"Yes, I confess it," replied Madame de Condé.
"Your Highness will be satisfied in that case, for you will receive
three to-day," rejoined Lenet, as coolly as before.
"What, three?"
"Yes, madame. The first has been seen on the Bordeaux road, the second
is coming from Stenay, and the third from La Rochefoucauld."
The two princesses uttered an exclamation of joyful surprise. Madame de
Tourville bit her lips.
"It seems to me, my dear Monsieur Pierre," she said in a wheedling
tone, to conceal her vexation, and wrap in a coating of sugar the
bitter remark she was about to make, "it seems to me that a skilful
necromancer like yourself ought not to stop short after such a fine
start, and that, having announced the arrival of the couriers, you
should tell us the contents of their despatches."
"My knowledge, madame, doesn't extend as far as you think," said he,
modestly, "it confines itself to being a faithful servitor. I announce,
but I do not guess."
At the same moment, as if Lenet were in reality served by a familiar
spirit, they spied two horsemen, who came riding through the great
gate of the château, and galloped up the avenue. Immediately a swarm
of idlers, deserting the lawns and flower-gardens, swooped down to the
avenue railings to have their share of the news.
The horsemen dismounted, and one of them, tossing to the other, who
seemed to be his servant, the bridle-rein of his foam-covered steed,
ran rather than walked toward the princesses who came forward to meet
him, and stepped upon the balcony at one end as he stepped upon it at
the other.
"Claire!" cried Madame la Princesse.
"Yes, your Highness. Accept my most humble respects, madame."
Kneeling upon one knee, the young man tried to take the princess's hand
to imprint a respectful kiss upon it.
"Come to my arms, dear viscountess, to my arms!" cried Madame de Condé,
raising her.
Having submitted to Madame la Princesse's embrace with all possible
respect, the cavalier turned to the princess dowager, to whom he made a
low bow.
"Speak quickly, dear Claire!" said she.
"Yes, speak," added Madame de Condé. "Have you seen Richon?"
"Yes, madame, and he entrusted me with a message for you."
"Good news or bad?"
"I do not know myself; the message consists of two words."
"What are they? Quick! I am dying with impatience."
The keenest anxiety was depicted on the features of both princesses.
"'_Bordeaux--Yes_,'" said Claire, herself anxious as to the effect the
two words would produce.
But she was soon reassured, for the princesses received them with a
triumphant exclamation, which brought Lenet from the other end of the
balcony.
"Lenet! Lenet! come! come!" cried Madame la Princesse, "you do not know
the news our good Claire brings us."
"Yes, madame," said Lenet, smiling; "I do know it; that is why I did
not hurry to meet her."
"What! you know it?"
"'_Bordeaux--Yes_,'--isn't that it?"
"In truth, my dear Pierre, you must be a sorcerer!" said the dowager.
"If you knew it, Lenet," said Madame la Princesse, reproachfully,
"why, seeing our anxiety, did you not relieve it with those two words!"
"Because I wished to allow Madame de Cambes to receive the reward
of her fatiguing journey," replied Lenet, with a motion of his head
toward Claire, who was deeply moved, "and also because I feared an
explosion of joy on the part of your Highnesses, out on the terrace in
everybody's sight."
"You are right, Pierre, always right, my good Pierre!" said Madame la
Princesse. "Let us say nothing."
"And we owe this to the gallant Richon," said the princess dowager.
"Hasn't he done well, Compère Lenet, and aren't you content with him?"
_Compère_ was the princess dowager's pet word; it was a reminiscence of
Henri IV., who used it frequently.
"Richon is a man of brain and energy, madame, and I pray your Highness
to believe that if I had not been as sure of him as of myself I would
not have recommended him."
"What shall we do for him?" said Madame la Princesse.
"We must give him some important post," said the dowager.
"Some important post? Your Highness cannot think of doing so,"
interposed Madame de Tourville, sourly; "you forget that Monsieur
Richon is not of gentle birth!"
"Nor am I, madame," retorted Lenet; "which fact does not prevent
Monsieur le Prince from having some confidence in me, I believe. Most
assuredly do I admire and respect the nobility of France; but there are
circumstances in which a noble heart, I venture to say, is worth more
than an ancient coat of arms."
"Why did not good Richon come himself to tell us this joyful tidings?"
asked Madame la Princesse.
"He remained in Guyenne to raise troops. He told me that he could
already count upon nearly three hundred men, but he says that, from
want of time, they will be but ill equipped to take the field, and he
would much prefer that we should obtain for him the command of a place
like Vayres, or Île Saint-George. There, he says, he would be sure of
making himself useful to your Highnesses."
"But how can we obtain it?" asked the princess. "We are in too bad
odor at court at this moment to recommend any one, and if we should
undertake it, whoever we might recommend would become on the instant an
object of suspicion."
"Perhaps, madame," said the viscountess, "a method which Monsieur
Richon himself suggested to me may be practicable."
"What is that?"
"Monsieur d'Épernon is, it appears," continued the viscountess,
blushing, "very much in love with a certain young woman."
"Ah! yes, the fair Nanon," said Madame la Princesse, disdainfully; "we
know about that."
"Well, it seems that the duc d'Épernon can refuse nothing to this young
woman, and that she disposes of whatever any one chooses to purchase
from her. Could not you purchase a commission for Monsieur Richon?"
"It would be money well placed," said Lenet.
"True, but the chest is empty, as you well know, Monsieur le
conseiller," said Madame de Tourville.
Lenet turned with a smile to Madame de Cambes.
"This is the moment, madame," said he, "to prove to their Highnesses
that you have forgotten nothing."
"What do you mean, Lenet?"
"He means, madame, that I am fortunate enough to be able to offer
you a paltry sum, which I have collected with much difficulty from
my farmers. The offering is a very modest one, but I could do no
more,--twenty thousand livres!" she continued, hesitating and lowering
her eyes, ashamed to offer so small a sum to the two first ladies in
the realm next to the queen.
"Twenty thousand livres!" they cried with one accord.
"Why, it's a fortune in times like these," continued the dowager.
"Dear Claire!" exclaimed Madame la Princesse, "how can we ever repay
our obligation to her?"
"Your Highness will think of that later."
"Where is this money?" inquired Madame de Tourville.
"In her Highness's apartment, whither I bade Pompée, my squire, to
carry it."
"Lenet," said Madame la Princesse, "you will remember that we owe this
sum to Madame de Cambes."
"It is already carried to her credit," said Lenet, producing his
tablets, and pointing out the viscountess's twenty thousand livres
set down, under that date, in a column, the total of which would have
alarmed the princesses somewhat if they had taken the trouble to add it.
"Pray how did you succeed in reaching here, dear Claire?" said Madame
la Princesse; "for we are told that Monsieur de Saint-Aignan is
watching the road, and searching every traveller, for all the world
like a customs officer."
"Thanks to Pompée's superior wisdom, madame, we avoided that danger,
by making a tremendous détour, which delayed us a day and a half, but
assured our safety. Except for that I should have arrived day before
yesterday."
"Have no uneasiness on that score, madame," said Lenet, "there is no
time lost as yet; but we must see to it that we make good use of to-day
and to-morrow. To-day, as your Highnesses will remember, we expect
three couriers; one has already arrived, the other two are still to
come."
"May we know the names of these others, monsieur?" asked Madame de
Tourville, still hoping to catch the counsellor at fault, for she was
constantly at war with him; and though the war was not declared, it was
none the less real.
"The first, if my expectations are fulfilled, will be Gourville; he
comes from the Duc de La Rochefoucauld."
"From the Prince de Marsillac, you mean," rejoined Madame de Tourville.
"Monsieur le Prince de Marsillac is now Duc de La Rochefoucauld,
madame."
"His father is dead, then?"
"A week since."
"Where did he die?"
"At Verteuil."
"And the second?" asked Madame la Princesse.
"The second is Blanchefort, captain of Monsieur le Prince's guards. He
comes from Stenay, from Monsieur de Turenne."
"In that case," said Madame de Tourville, "I think that, to avoid
any loss of time, we should recur to the first plan I suggested in
the probable event of the adhesion of Bordeaux, and the alliance of
Messieurs de Turenne and de Marsillac."
Lenet smiled as usual.
"Pardon me, madame," said he, in his most courteous tone; "but the
plans formed by Monsieur le Prince himself are at this moment in
process of execution, and bid fair to be entirely successful."
"The plans formed by Monsieur le Prince," retorted Madame de Tourville,
sharply; "by Monsieur le Prince, who is in the donjon of Vincennes, and
has no communication with anybody!"
"Here are his Highness's orders, written by his own hand, dated
yesterday," said Lenet, taking from his pocket a letter from the Prince
de Condé, "and received by me this morning; we are in correspondence."
The paper was almost snatched from his hands by the two princesses, who
devoured, with tears of joy, all that it contained.
"Ah! do Lenet's pockets contain the whole kingdom of France?" said the
princess dowager, laughingly.
"Not yet, madame, not yet; but with God's help I will so act as to make
them large enough for that. Now," continued Lenet, with a significant
glance at the viscountess, "Madame la Vicomtesse must stand in need of
rest; for her long journey--"
The viscountess understood that Lenet wished to be left alone with
the princesses, and at a smile from the dowager which confirmed that
impression, she courtesied respectfully and took her leave.
Madame de Tourville remained and promised herself an ample harvest of
mysterious information; but upon an almost imperceptible sign from
the dowager to her daughter-in-law, the two princesses spontaneously,
by a stately reverence, executed in accordance with all the rules of
etiquette, signified to Madame de Tourville that the political conclave
in which she was summoned to take part had reached its term. The lady
of theories understood the hint perfectly, returned their salute by a
reverence even more solemn and ceremonious than theirs, and withdrew,
calling upon God to bear witness to the ingratitude of princes.
The ladies passed into their study, and Pierre Lenet followed them.
"Now," said he, after making sure that the door was securely locked,
"if your Highnesses care to receive Gourville, he has arrived and
changed his clothes, not daring to present himself in his travelling
costume."
"What news does he bring?"
"That Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld will be here this evening or
to-morrow with five hundred gentlemen."
"Five hundred gentlemen!" cried the princess; "why, 't is a veritable
army!"
"Which will add to the difficulties of our journey. I should have
preferred five or six faithful servitors only to all this display; we
could more easily conceal our movements from Monsieur de Saint-Aignan.
Now it will be almost impossible to reach the South without being
molested."
"If we are molested, so much the better!" cried the princess; "for if
we are molested we will fight, and we shall win; Monsieur de Condé's
spirit will march with us."
Lenet glanced at the dowager as if to ask her opinion also; but
Charlotte de Montmorency, who grew to womanhood during the civil wars
of Louis XIII. and had seen so many noble heads bend to enter a prison,
or roll upon the scaffold for having sought to hold themselves erect,
sadly passed her hand across her brow, laden with painful memories.
"Yes," said she, "we are reduced to that alternative; to hide or to
fight,--a frightful state of things! We were living in peace, with such
glory as God had bestowed upon our house; we had no other desire, at
least I hope that no one of us had any other, than to remain in the
station to which we were born,--and lo! the exigencies of the time
force us to contend against our master."
"Madame," interposed the younger princess, impetuously, "I look
with less anguish than your Highness upon the necessity to which we
are reduced. My husband and my brother are undergoing confinement
unworthy of their rank; that husband and that brother are your sons;
furthermore, your daughter is proscribed. These facts assuredly justify
whatever enterprises we may undertake."
"True," said the dowager, with melancholy resignation; "true, I endure
it all with more patience than yourself, madame; but it is because
it seems as if it were our destiny to be proscribed or imprisoned. I
had no sooner become the wife of your husband's father, than I was
compelled to leave France, pursued by the love of King Henri IV. We had
no sooner returned than we were consigned to Vincennes, pursued by the
hatred of Cardinal de Richelieu. My son, who is in prison to-day, was
born in prison, and after thirty-two years has renewed his acquaintance
with the room in which he was born. Alas! your father-in-law, Monsieur
le Prince, was right in his gloomy prophecies. When the result of
the battle of Rocroy was made known to him, when he was taken into
the great hall hung with flags captured from the Spaniards, he said,
turning to me: 'God knows the joy that my son's exploit affords me; but
remember, madame, that the more glory our family acquires, the greater
will be the misfortunes that overtake it. If it were not that I bear
the arms of France, too noble a blazonry to be cast aside, I would take
for my crest a falcon betrayed and recaptured by the ringing of his
bells, with this legend: _Fama nocet._' We have made too much noise in
the world, my daughter, and that is what injures us. Do not you agree
with me, Lenet?"
"Madame," Lenet replied, deeply afflicted by the memories awakened by
the princess, "your Highness is right; but we have gone too far to
retreat now; more than that; in circumstances like our present ones, it
is most essential to make up our minds promptly. We must not deceive
ourselves as to our situation. We are free only in appearance; the
queen has her eye upon us, and Monsieur de Saint-Aignan is blockading
us. The question we have to solve is, how we are to leave Chantilly
despite the queen's vigilance and Monsieur de Saint-Aignan's blockade."
"Leave Chantilly! why, we will leave it with heads erect!" cried Madame
la Princesse.
"I am of the same opinion," said the princess dowager. "The Condés
are not Spaniards, and they do not play false. They are not Italians,
and they do not resort to trickery. What they do, they do in broad
daylight, with heads erect."
"Madame," said Lenet, in a tone of conviction, "God is my witness that
I will be the first to execute your Highness's commands, whatever
they may be; but in order to leave Chantilly in the way you describe,
we must fight our way. You do not intend, of course, to become women
again in the day of battle, after taking a man's part in council. You
will march at the head of your supporters, and you will be the ones to
furnish your soldiers with their war-cry. But you forget that closely
connected with your precious lives, another life, no less precious, is
beginning to assume prominence; that of the Duc d'Enghien, your son and
grandson. Will you incur the risk of burying in the same grave the
present and the future of your family? Do you imagine that Mazarin will
not make use of the father as a hostage, when such rash enterprises are
undertaken in the name of the son? Have you forgotten the secrets of
the donjon of Vincennes, which were investigated under such melancholy
circumstances by the Grand Prior of Vendôme, by Marshal d'Ornano, and
by Puylaurens? Have you forgotten the fatal chamber, which, as Madame
de Rambouillet says, is worth its weight in arsenic? No, mesdames,"
continued Lenet, clasping his hands, "no; you will hearken to the
advice of your faithful counsellor; you will take your departure from
Chantilly as it is fitting that persecuted women should do. Remember
that your surest weapon is weakness. A child bereft of its father, a
woman bereft of her husband, a mother bereft of her son, escape as they
may from the snare in which they are caught. Before you act or speak
openly, wait until you no longer serve as guaranties to the stronger
party. Prisoners, your supporters will remain mute; free, they will
declare themselves, having no further reason to fear that any one will
dictate to them the conditions of your ransom. Our plan is concerted
with Gourville. We are sure of a strong escort, which will protect us
from insult on the road; for to-day twenty different factions are in
the field, and preying indiscriminately upon friend and foe. Give your
consent. Everything is in readiness."
"Leave Chantilly in disguise! like malefactors!" cried the young
princess. "Oh! what will my husband say when he learns that his mother,
his wife, and his son have done such a shameful thing?"
"I know not what he will say, madame, but if you succeed he will owe
his liberty to you! if you fail, you risk the loss of none of your
advantages, especially not your position, as you would do by a battle."