We have said that our six gentlemen of recent manufacture were well
mounted; their horses also had the advantage over those of the
cavaliers who arrived in the morning, that they were fresh. They
therefore soon overtook the main body of the hunt, and took their
places among the hunters without the least objection from any quarter.
The great majority of the guests were from different provinces, and
were not acquainted with one another; so that the intruders, once in
the park, might easily pass for guests.
Everything would have passed off as well as they could have wished,
if they had kept to their proper station, or even if they had been
content with outstripping the others and riding among the huntsmen
and whippers-in. But it was not so. In a very few moments Cauvignac
seemed to reach the conclusion that the hunt was given in his honor;
he snatched a horn from the hands of one of the whippers-in, who did
not dare refuse to give it to him, took the lead of the huntsmen, rode
in front of the captain of the hunt again and again, cut through woods
and hedges, blowing the horn in any but the right way, confusing the
_vue_ with the _lancer_, the _debuché_ with the _rembuché_, running
down the dogs, overturning the whippers-in, saluting the ladies with a
jaunty air when he rode by them, swearing, yelling, and losing his head
when he lost sight of them, and at the last coming upon the stag, just
as the animal, after swimming across the great pond, turned upon his
pursuers and stood at bay.
"_Hallali! Hallali!_" cried Cauvignac, "the stag is ours! _Corbleu!_ we
have him."
"Cauvignac," said Ferguzon, who was only a length behind him.
"Cauvignac, you'll get us all turned out of the park. In God's name be
more quiet!"
But Cauvignac heard not a word, and, seeing that the animal was getting
the best of the dogs, dismounted and drew his sword, shouting with all
the strength of his lungs:--
"_Hallali! Hallali!_"
His companions, excepting always the prudent Ferguzon, encouraged by
his example, were preparing to swoop down upon their prey, when the
captain of the hunt interposed.
"Gently, monsieur," he said, waving Cauvignac aside with his knife;
"Madame la Princesse directs the hunt. It is for her, therefore, to cut
the stag's throat, or to concede that honor to such person as she may
please."
Cauvignac was recalled to himself by this sharp reprimand; and as
he fell back with decidedly bad grace, he found himself suddenly
surrounded by the crowd of hunters, the delay having given them time to
come up. They formed a great circle about the beast, driven to bay at
the foot of an oak, and surrounded by all the dogs.
At the same moment Madame la Princesse was seen galloping up, preceding
Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien, the gentlemen in waiting and the ladies, who
had made it a point of honor not to leave her. She was greatly excited,
and it was easy to imagine that she looked upon this simulacrum of war
as the prelude to a real war.
When she reached the centre of the circle she stopped, cast a haughty
glance about her, and noticed Cauvignac and his comrades, whom the
officers of the hunt were eying uneasily and suspiciously.
The captain drew near to her, knife in hand. It was the knife
ordinarily used by Monsieur le Prince; the blade was of the finest
steel and the handle of silver-gilt.
"Does your Highness know yonder gentleman?" he said in a low tone,
glancing at Cauvignac out of the corner of his eye.
"No," said she, "but he was admitted, so he is undoubtedly known to
some one."
"He is known to no one, your Highness; every one whom I have questioned
sees him to-day for the first time."
"But he could not pass the gates without the countersign."
"No, of course not," replied the captain; "and yet I venture to advise
your Highness to be on your guard."
"First of all, we must know who he is," said the princess.
"We shall soon know, madame," Lenet, who had ridden up with the
princess, observed with his habitual smile. "I have sent a Norman,
a Picard, and a Breton to talk with him, and he will be closely
questioned; but for the moment, do not seem to be talking about him, or
he will escape us."
"Cauvignac," said Ferguzon, "I think that we are being discussed in high
places. We shall do well to suffer an eclipse."
"Do you think so?" said Cauvignac. "'Faith, what's the odds? I propose
to be in at the death, come what come may."
"It's a stirring spectacle, I know," said Ferguzon, "but we may have to
pay more for our places than at the Hôtel de Bourgogne."
"Madame," said the captain, presenting the knife to the princess, "to
whom is your Highness pleased to grant the honor of putting the stag to
death?"
"I reserve it for myself, monsieur," said the princess; "a woman of my
station should accustom herself to the touch of steel and the sight of
blood."
"Namur," said the captain to the arquebusier, "be ready."
The arquebusier stepped forward, arquebuse in hand, and took up his
position within twenty feet of the animal. This manœuvre was intended
to ensure the princess's safety if the stag, driven to despair, as
sometimes happens, should attack her instead of waiting meekly to be
killed.
Madame la Princesse dismounted, and with sparkling eyes, glowing
cheeks, and lips slightly parted, walked toward the animal, who was
almost entirely buried under the dogs, and seemed to be covered with
a carpet of a thousand colors. Doubtless the animal did not believe
that death was to come to him from the hand of the lovely princess,
from which he had eaten many and many a time; he had fallen upon his
knees, and he tried to rise, letting fall from his eyes the great
tear-drop which accompanies the death agony of the stag and the deer.
But he had not time; the blade of the knife, glistening in the sun's
rays, disappeared to the hilt in his throat; the blood spurted out into
the princess's face; the stag raised his head, and, casting a last
reproachful glance at his beautiful mistress, fell forward and died.
At the same instant all the horns blew the death-blast, and a mighty
shout arose: "_Vive_ Madame la Princesse!" while the young prince stood
up in his saddle and clapped his little hands in high glee.
Madame la Princesse withdrew the knife from the animal's throat,
glanced around with the look of an Amazon in her eyes, handed the
dripping knife to the captain of the hunt, and remounted. Lenet
thereupon drew nigh.
"Does Madame la Princesse wish me to tell her," said he, with a smile,
"of whom she was thinking when she cut the poor beast's throat a moment
since?"
"Yes, Lenet, I should be glad to have you tell me."
"She was thinking of Monsieur de Mazarin, and would have been glad to
have him in the stag's place."
"Yes," cried the princess, "that is quite true, and I would have cut
his throat without pity, I swear to you: but really, Lenet, you are a
sorcerer!"
She turned to the rest of the company.
"Now that the hunt is at an end, messieurs," said she, "please follow
me. It is too late now to start another stag, and besides, supper
awaits us."
Cauvignac acknowledged this invitation by a most graceful bow.
"Pray, what are you doing, captain?" queried Ferguzon.
"_Pardieu_ I am accepting! Didn't you hear Madame la Princesse invite
us to supper, as I promised you that she would?"
"Cauvignac, you may take my advice or not, but if I were in your place
I would make for the breach in the wall."
"Ferguzon, my friend, your natural perspicacity plays you false. Didn't
you notice the orders given by yonder gentleman in black, who has the
expression of a fox when he laughs, and of a badger when he doesn't
laugh? Ferguzon, the breach is guarded, and to make for the breach is
to indicate a purpose to go out as we came in."
"But if that's the case, what is to become of us?"
"Never fear! I will answer for everything."
With that assurance the six adventurers took their places in the midst
of the gentlemen, and rode with them toward the château.
Cauvignac was not mistaken; they were closely watched.
Lenet rode on the outskirts of the cavalcade. On his right was the
captain of the hunt, and on his left the intendant of the Condé estates.
"You are sure," said he, "that no one knows those men?"
"No one; we have questioned more than fifty gentlemen, and the reply is
always the same; perfect strangers to everybody."
The Norman, the Picard, and the Breton had no further information to
impart. But the Norman had discovered a breach in the park wall, and
like an intelligent man had stationed guards there.
"We must have recourse, then, to a more efficacious method," said
Lenet. "We must not allow a handful of spies to compel us to send away
a hundred gallant fellows without accomplishing anything. Look to it,
Monsieur l'Intendant, that no one is allowed to leave the court-yard,
or the gallery where the horsemen are to be entertained. Do you,
Monsieur le Capitaine, as soon as the door of the gallery is closed,
station a picket guard of twelve men with loaded muskets, in case of
accident. Go! I will not lose sight of them."
Lenet had no great difficulty in performing the duties he had imposed
upon himself. Cauvignac and his companions evinced no desire to fly.
Cauvignac rode among the foremost, twisting his moustache with a
killing air; Ferguzon followed him, relying upon his promise, for he
knew his leader too well not to be sure that he would not be caught
in that trap, even if it had no second issue. Barrabas and the other
three followed their captain and lieutenant, thinking of nothing but
the excellent supper that awaited them; they were in fact rather dull
fellows, who with absolute indifference abandoned the intellectual
portion of their social relations to their two leaders, in whom they
had full and entire confidence.
Everything took place in accordance with Lenet's intention, and his
orders were carried out to the letter. Madame la Princesse took her
place in the great reception-room under a canopy, which served her for
a throne. Her son was beside her, dressed as we have described.
The guests exchanged glances; they had been promised a supper, but it
was evident that they were to listen to a speech.
The princess at last rose and began to speak. Her harangue[1] was well
calculated to arouse enthusiasm and make converts to her cause. On
this occasion Clémence de Maillé-Brézé gave free rein to her feelings,
and openly attacked Mazarin. Her hearers, electrified by the reminder
of the insult offered to the whole nobility of France in the persons
of the princes, and even more, it may be, by the hope of making an
advantageous bargain with the court in case of success, interrupted
the discourse again and again, calling God to witness, at the tops of
their voices, that they would do faithful service in the cause of the
illustrious house of Condé, and would help to rescue it from the state
of degradation to which Mazarin wished to reduce it.
[Footnote 1: Lovers of speeches will find this one entire in the
memoirs of Pierre Lenet. For our own part, we agree with Henri IV., who
claimed that he owed his gray hairs to the long speeches he had been
compelled to listen to.]
"And so, messieurs," cried the princess, bringing her harangue to an
end, "the support of your valor, the free offering of your devotion
is what the orphan before you asks of your noble hearts. You are our
friends--at all events you present yourselves here as such. What can
you do for us?"
After a moment of solemn silence began one of the grandest and most
affecting scenes that can be imagined.
One of the gentlemen bowed with deep respect to the princess.
"My name," said he, "is Gérard de Montalent; I bring with me four
gentlemen, my friends. We have among us five good swords and two
thousand pistoles, which we place at Monsieur le Prince's service. Here
are our credentials, signed by Monsieur le Duc de La Rochefoucauld."
The princess bowed, took the letter from the hands of the speaker,
passed it to Lenet, and motioned to the gentlemen to take their places
at her right.
As soon as they had obeyed her command another gentleman rose.
"My name is Claude-Raoul de Lessac, Comte de Clermont. I come with six
gentlemen, my friends. We have each a thousand pistoles, which we ask
to be allowed to pour into your Highness's treasure-chest. We are well
armed and equipped, and a small daily wage will suffice for our needs.
Here are our credentials, signed by Monsieur le Duc de Bouillon."
"Step to my right, gentlemen," said the princess, taking Monsieur de
Bouillon's letter, which she read, as she read the other, and passed to
Lenet, "and accept my grateful thanks."
The gentlemen obeyed.
"My name is Louis-Ferdinand de Lorges, Comte de Duras," said a third.
"I come without friends and without money, my sword my only wealth
and my only strength; with it I cut my way through the enemy, when I
was besieged in Bellegarde. Here are my credentials from Monsieur le
Vicomte de Turenne."
"Come hither, monsieur," said the princess, taking the letter with one
hand, and giving him the other to kiss. "Come and stand by my side: I
make you one of my brigadiers."
The same course was followed by all the gentlemen; all were provided
with credentials, from Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld, Monsieur de
Bouillon, or Monsieur de Turenne; all delivered their letters and
passed to the right of the princess; when there was no more room on
that side they took their places at her left.
The centre of the great hall became gradually empty. Soon there
remained only Cauvignac and his fellows, a solitary group, and upon
them many suspicious and threatening glances were cast, accompanied by
angry murmurs.
Lenet glanced toward the door. It was securely locked. He knew that
the captain and twelve armed men were on the other side. Bringing his
piercing gaze to bear upon the strangers, he said:--
"And you, messieurs; who are you? Will you do us the honor to tell us
your names, and show us your credentials?"
The beginning of this scene, the probable ending of which disturbed him
beyond measure, had cast a shadow over the face of Ferguzon, and his
uneasiness gradually infected his companions, who, like Lenet, glanced
in the direction of the door; but their leader, majestically enveloped
in his cloak, had maintained throughout an impassive demeanor. At
Lenet's invitation he stepped forward, and said, saluting the princess
with ostentatious gallantry:--
"Madame, my name is Roland de Cauvignac, and I bring with me for your
Highness's service these five gentlemen, who belong to the first
families of Guyenne, but desire to retain their incognito."
"But you did not, of course, come to Chantilly, without being
recommended to us by some one," said the princess, thinking with dismay
of the terrible tumult which would result from the arrest of these six
men. "Where are your credentials?"
Cauvignac bowed as if he recognized the justness of the question, felt
in the pocket of his doublet, and took from it a folded paper which he
handed to Lenet with a low bow.
Lenet opened and read it and a joyful expression overspread his
features, contracted a moment before by very natural apprehension.
While Lenet was reading, Cauvignac cast a triumphant glance upon the
assemblage.
"Madame," said Lenet, stooping to whisper in the princess's ear, "see
what unexpected good fortune; a paper signed in blank by Monsieur
d'Épernon!"
"Monsieur," said the princess, with her most gracious smile; "thrice I
thank you,--for my husband, for myself, for my son."
Surprise deprived all the spectators of the power of speech.
"Monsieur," said Lenet, "this paper is so valuable that it cannot be
your intention to give it into our hands unconditionally. This evening,
after supper, we will talk together, if you please, and you can then
tell me in what way we can be of service to you."
With that, Lenet put the precious paper in his pocket and Cauvignac
had the requisite delicacy to abstain from asking him for it.
"Well," said he to his companions, "did I not invite you to take supper
with Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien?"
"Now, to supper!" said the princess.
At the word the folding doors were thrown open and disclosed a table
spread with a sumptuous repast in the great gallery of the château.
The feast was very animated and noisy; the health of Monsieur le
Prince, proposed again and again, was drunk each time by all the guests
on their knees, sword in hand, and uttering imprecations against
Mazarin fierce enough to bring the walls down on their heads.
Every one did honor to the good cheer of Chantilly. Even Ferguzon, the
prudent Ferguzon, yielded to the charms of the vintage of Burgundy,
with which he became acquainted for the first time. Ferguzon was a
Gascon, and had previously been in a position to appreciate no other
wines than those of his own province, which he considered excellent,
but which had achieved no great renown at that period, if the Duc de
Saint-Simon is to be believed.
But it was not so with Cauvignac. Cauvignac, while appreciating at
their full worth the vintages of Moulin-à-Vent, Nuits, and Chambertin,
was very moderate in his libations. He had not forgotten Lenet's
cunning smile, and he thought that he needed all his faculties in order
to make a bargain with the crafty counsellor which he would not have
occasion to repent having made. He aroused the admiration of Ferguzon,
Barrabas, and the other three, who, failing to appreciate the reason of
his temperance, were simple enough to think that he was beginning to
reform.
Toward the close of the banquet, as the toasts were becoming more
frequent, the princess vanished, taking the Duc d'Enghien with her, and
leaving her guests free to prolong the revelry as far into the night
as they chose. Everything had taken place according to her wishes, and
she gives a circumstantial narrative of the scene in the salon, and the
banquet in the gallery, omitting nothing save the words Lenet whispered
in her ear as she rose from the table:--
"Do not forget, your Highness, that we start at ten o'clock."
It was then close upon nine, and the princess began her preparations.
Meanwhile Lenet and Cauvignac exchanged glances. Lenet rose, Cauvignac
did the same. Lenet left the gallery by a small door in a corner;
Cauvignac understood the manœuvre and followed him.
Lenet led Cauvignac to his cabinet. The adventurer strode along behind
with a careless, confident air. But his hand toyed negligently with
the hilt of a long dagger thrust in his belt, and his keen, quick eye
peered through half-opened doors, and scanned every fluttering curtain.
He did not fear treachery precisely, but it was a matter of principle
with him always to be prepared for it.
Once in the cabinet, which was dimly lighted by a lamp, but was quite
untenanted, as a swift glance showed him, Cauvignac took the seat to
which Lenet waved him on one side of the table whereon the lamp was
burning. Lenet took his seat on the other side.
"Monsieur," said Lenet, to win the adventurer's confidence at the
outset, "in the first place, here is your signature in blank, which I
return to you. It is yours, is it not?"
"It belongs, monsieur," replied Cauvignac, "to him in whose possession
it happens to be, for, as you see, it bears no other name than that of
Monsieur le Duc d'Épernon."
"When I ask if it is yours, I mean to ask if it is in your possession
with Monsieur le Duc d'Épernon's consent."
"I have it from his own hand, monsieur."
"It was neither stolen, then, nor extorted from him by violence?--I do
not say by you, but by some other person from whom you received it.
Perhaps you have it only at second hand?"
"It was given me by the duke himself, I tell you,--voluntarily, in
exchange for a paper which I handed him."
"Did you agree with Monsieur d'Épernon to use this signature of his for
any particular purpose, and for no other?"
"I made no agreement whatsoever with Monsieur d'Épernon."
"The person in whose hands it is may use it, then, with perfect safety?"
"He may."
"If that is so, why do you not make use of it yourself?"
"Because if I keep it I can use it for but one purpose, while by giving
it to you, I can purchase two things with it."
"What are these two things?"
"Money, first of all."
"We have almost none."
"I will be reasonable."
"And the second thing?"
"A commission in the army of the princes."
"The princes have no army."
"They soon will have one."
"Would you not prefer a commission to raise a company?"
"I was about to make that very suggestion to you."
"The question of the money is left for decision, then."
"Yes, the question of the money."
"What amount do you expect?"
"Ten thousand livres. I told you that I would be reasonable."
"Ten thousand livres?"
"Yes. You must surely advance me something toward arming and equipping
my men."
"Indeed, it's not an exorbitant request."
"You agree, then?"
"It's a bargain."
Lenet produced a commission all signed, inserted the names given him
by the young man, affixed Madame la Princesse's seal, and handed it to
Cauvignac; he then opened a strong-box which contained the treasure of
the rebels, and took out ten thousand livres in gold pieces, which he
arranged in piles of twenty each.
Cauvignac counted them scrupulously one after another; when that task
was completed he nodded to Lenet, to signify that the paper with
Monsieur d'Épernon's signature was his. Lenet took it and placed it in
the strong-box, thinking, doubtless, that so precious a treasure could
not be too carefully guarded.
Just as he was placing the key of the chest in his pocket, a valet came
running in, all aghast, to tell him that his presence was required on
business of importance.
Consequently Lenet and Cauvignac left the cabinet,--Lenet to follow the
servant, Cauvignac to return to the banqueting-hall.
Meanwhile Madame la Princesse was making her preparations for
departure, which consisted in changing her party dress for an Amazonian
costume, equally suitable for the carriage or the saddle; in assorting
her papers so that she might burn those that were worthless, and set
aside the valuable ones to be taken with her; lastly, in collecting
her diamonds, which she had had removed from their settings, that they
might occupy less space, and be more easily available in case of an
emergency.
Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien was to travel in the suit he had worn at
the hunt, as there had been no time to order another one made. His
equerry, Vialas, was to remain constantly at the carriage door, riding
a white horse of the purest racing blood, so that he might take him
upon the little saddle and gallop away with him, if need were. They
were afraid at first that he would fall asleep, and sent for Pierrot to
come and play with him; but it was an unnecessary precaution; the proud
satisfaction of being dressed as a man was quite enough to keep him
awake.
The carriages, which were ordered to be made ready as if to drive
Madame la Vicomtesse de Cambes to Paris, were driven to a dark avenue
of chestnuts, where it was impossible to see them, and were waiting
there, doors open and coachmen in their places, within twenty paces
of the main gate. They were all ready for the signal, which was to be
given by a blast from the hunting-horns. Madame la Princesse, with her
eyes fixed upon the clock, which marked five minutes less than ten
o'clock, had already left her seat and was walking toward her son to
take him by the hand, when the door was hastily thrown open, and Lenet
burst into, rather than entered the room.
Madame la Princesse, seeing his pale face, and his anxious expression,
lost color herself.
"Oh, _mon Dieu!_" said she, running to meet him, "what has happened?
What is the matter?"
"The matter is," Lenet replied in a voice choked with excitement, "that
a gentleman has arrived, and requests speech of you on behalf of the
king."
"Great God!" ejaculated the princess, "we are lost! Dear Lenet, what
are we to do?"
"There is but one thing to be done."
"What is it?"
"Undress Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien immediately and dress Pierrot in his
clothes."
"But I won't have you take off my clothes and give them to Pierrot!"
cried the young prince, ready to burst into tears at the mere thought,
while Pierrot, in an ecstasy of joy, feared that he could not have
heard aright.
"We must do it, monseigneur," said Lenet, in the impressive tone which
comes to one in emergencies, and which has the power of inspiring awe
even in a child, "or else they will take you and your mamma this very
moment to the same prison where your father is."
The prince said no more, while Pierrot, on the other hand, was quite
unable to control his feelings, and indulged in an indescribable
explosion of joy and pride; they were-both taken to a room on the
ground-floor near the chapel, where the metamorphosis was to take place.
"Luckily," said Lenet, "the princess dowager is here; otherwise we were
surely outwitted by Mazarin."
"How so?"
"Because the messenger was in duty bound to begin by calling upon her,
and he is in her antechamber at this moment."
"This messenger is a mere spy, of course, sent here from the court to
watch us?"
"Your Highness has said it."
"His orders, then, are not to lose sight of us."
"Yes; but what care you, if you are not the person he keeps in sight?"
"I fail to understand you, Lenet."
Lenet smiled.
"I understand myself, madame, and I will answer for everything. Dress
Pierrot as a prince, and the prince as a gardener, and I will undertake
to teach Pierrot his lesson."
"Oh, _mon Dieu!_ let my son go away alone!"
"Your son will go with his mother, madame."
"Impossible!"
"Why so? If they find a false Duc d'Enghien here, they may well find a
false Princesse de Condé!"
"Oh! splendid! Now I understand, good Lenet! dear Lenet! But who will
represent me?" added the princess, anxiously.
"Have no fear on that score, madame," replied the imperturbable
counsellor. "The Princesse de Condé whom I propose to make use of,
and who I intend shall be kept in sight by Monsieur de Mazarin's spy,
has just undressed in hot haste, and is getting into your bed at this
moment."
Let us go back for a moment, and see what had taken place prior to
Lenet's conversation with the princess.
While the guests were still sitting about the festive board, toasting
the princes and cursing Mazarin, while Lenet was bargaining with
Cauvignac in his cabinet for the possession of Monsieur d'Épernon's
signature, and while Madame la Princesse was making her preparations
for departure, a horseman made his appearance at the main gate of the
château, followed by his servant, and rang the bell.
The concierge opened the gate, but behind the concierge the new-comer
found the halberdier whom we already know.
"Whence come you?" he demanded.
"From Mantes," was the reply.
So far all was well.
"Whither go you?" the halberdier continued.
"To wait upon the princess dowager of Condé, then upon Madame la
Princesse, and lastly upon Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien."
"You cannot enter!" said the halberdier, barring the way with his
halberd.
"By order of the king!" rejoined the new-comer, taking a paper from his
pocket.
At these awe-inspiring words the halberd was lowered, the sentinel
called an usher, that official hurried to the spot, and his Majesty's
messenger, having delivered his credentials, was immediately ushered
into the château.
Fortunately, it was a very extensive structure, and the apartments of
the dowager were far removed from the gallery, where the last scene of
the noisy festival we have described was still in progress.
If the messenger had requested an interview with Madame la Princesse
in the first place, the whole plan of escape would in truth have been
thwarted. But etiquette demanded that he should first pay his respects
to the elder princess; so the first _valet de chambre_ ushered him into
a large cabinet, adjoining her Highness's bedroom.
"Pray accept her Highness's apologies, monsieur," said he, "but her
Highness was taken suddenly ill day before yesterday, and was bled
for the third time less than two hours since. I will make known your
arrival to her, and I shall have the honor of ushering you into her
presence in a moment."
The gentleman bowed in token of acquiescence, and was left alone,
entirely unaware that three curious pairs of eyes were observing his
countenance through the key-hole and trying to recognize him.
These three pairs of eyes belonged to Lenet, to Vialas, the princess's
equerry, and to La Roussière, captain of the hunt. In the event that
either one of the three had recognized the gentleman, that one was to
enter the room, and on the pretext of entertaining him while he waited,
to divert his attention and thus gain time.
But no one of the three was able to recognize the man whom they were so
deeply interested in winning over to their cause. He was a well-favored
youth in the uniform of an officer of infantry; he gazed about, with an
indifferent air which might easily have been attributed to distaste for
his errand, at the family portraits and the furniture of the cabinet,
paying particular attention to the portrait of the dowager, to whom he
was soon to be introduced,--a portrait which was made when she was in
the very flower of her youth and beauty.
It was but a very few minutes before the _valet de chambre_ returned,
as he had promised, and conducted the messenger to the princess
dowager's bedroom.
Charlotte de Montmorency was sitting up in bed; her physician,
Bourdelot, was just leaving her bedside. He met the officer at the door
and saluted him ceremoniously; the officer returned his salutation in
the same manner.
When the princess heard the visitor's footsteps and the few words he
exchanged with the physician, she made a rapid sign with her hand in
the direction of the passage beside the bed, whereupon the heavily
fringed hangings which enveloped the bed except on the side where they
were drawn apart for the reception of her visitor, moved slightly for
two or three seconds.
In the passage were the younger princess and Lenet, who had entered by
a secret door cut in the wainscoting, eager to ascertain the purport of
the king's messenger's visit to Chantilly.
The officer walked into the room, and halting a few feet from the door,
bowed with a greater show of respect than etiquette absolutely demanded.
The princess dowager's great black eyes were dilated with the superb
expression of a queen about to give free rein to her wrath; her silence
was heavy with impending storms. With her white hand, made even whiter
than usual by the blood-letting, she motioned to the messenger to
deliver to her the letter of which he was the bearer.
The officer extended his hand toward hers, and respectfully placed
therein Anne of Austria's letter; then waited until the princess should
have read the four lines it contained.
"Very good," muttered the dowager, folding the paper with affected
coolness; "I understand the queen's meaning, shrouded as it is in
polite phrases; I am your prisoner."
"Madame," the officer began, in dire embarrassment.
"A prisoner easy to guard, monsieur," continued Madame de Condé, "for I
am in no condition to fly very far; and I have, as you must have seen
as you came in, a stern keeper in the person of my physician, Monsieur
Bourdelot."
As she spoke the dowager looked more attentively at the messenger,
whose countenance was sufficiently pre-possessing to soften somewhat
the harsh reception due the bearer of such a communication.
"I knew," she continued, "that Monsieur de Mazarin was capable of much
unseemly violence; but I did not believe him to be so faint-hearted
as to fear a sick old woman, a helpless widow, and an infant, for I
presume that the order of which you are the bearer, applies to the
princess my daughter, and the duke my grandson, as well as to myself?"
"Madame," returned the young man, "I should be in despair were your
Highness to judge me by the functions which I am unhappily compelled
to perform. I arrived at Mantes bearing a message for the queen. The
postscript of the message recommended the messenger to her Majesty; the
queen thereupon graciously bade me remain in attendance upon her, as
she would in all probability have need of my services. Two days later
the queen sent me hither; but while accepting, as in duty bound, the
mission, whatever it might be, which her Majesty deigned to intrust to
me, I will venture to say that I did not solicit it, and furthermore
that I would have refused it if kings were accustomed to brook a
refusal."
With that the officer bowed again, with no less respect than before.
"I augur well from your explanation, and, since you have given it,
I have some hope that I may be permitted to be ill without being
molested. But no false shame, monsieur; tell me the truth at once.
Shall I be watched even in my own apartments, as my poor son is at
Vincennes? Shall I be allowed to write, and will my letters be opened,
or not? If, contrary to all appearance, I am ever able to leave my bed
again, will my walks be restricted?"
"Madame," replied the officer, "these are the instructions which the
queen did me the honor to give me with her own mouth: 'Go,' said her
Majesty, 'and assure my cousin of Condé that I will do whatever the
welfare of the realm will permit me to do for the princes. In this
letter I beg her to receive one of my officers, who will serve as
intermediary between her and myself for such communications as she may
wish to make to me. You will be that officer.' Such, madame," added the
young man, with renewed demonstrations of respect, "were her Majesty's
own words."
The princess listened to this recital with the careful attention of
one seeking to detect in a diplomatic note the hidden meaning often
depending upon the use of a certain word, or upon the placing of a
comma in a particular spot.
After a moment's reflection, having discovered, doubtless, in the
message the meaning that she had feared from the first to find therein,
that is to say, espionage pure and simple, she said, pressing her lips
together:
"You will take up your abode at Chantilly, monsieur, as the queen
desires; furthermore, if you will say what apartment will be most
agreeable to you, and most convenient for executing your commission,
that apartment shall be yours."
"Madame," rejoined the officer, with a slight frown, "I have had the
honor of explaining to your Highness many things not included in my
instructions. Between your Highness's wrath and the queen's command I
am in a dangerous position, being naught but a poor officer, and above
all a wretched courtier. However, it seems to me that your Highness
would be more generous to abstain from humiliating a man who is merely
a passive instrument. It is distasteful to me, madame, to have to do
what I am doing. But the queen has so ordered, and it is for me to obey
the queen's commands to the letter. I did not seek the position,--I
should have been glad had it been given to another; it seems to me
that that is much to say."
And the officer raised his head with a blush which caused a similar
blush to overspread the princess's haughty countenance.
"Monsieur," she replied, "whatever our social station, we owe obedience
to her Majesty, as you have said. I will therefore follow the example
set by you, and will obey as you obey. You must understand, however,
how hard it is to be unable to receive a worthy gentleman like yourself
without being at liberty to do the honors of one's house as one would
like. From this moment you are master here. Order, and you shall be
obeyed."