How Chavigni rode fifty miles to ride back again.
While these schemes for the downfall of his Patron were going forward at
Narbonne, Chavigni spurred on rapidly towards Tarascon, where the
falling Minister lay sick, both in body and in mind. Besides the
personal attachment of the Statesman to Richelieu, who had formed his
fortunes, and led him in the way to greatness, every consideration of
his own interest bade him oppose the resignation of the Cardinal, which
he clearly saw would bring inevitable destruction upon all persons
connected with the existing ministry.
He had long perceived that a powerful party was forming against
Richelieu, especially since his absence and illness gave facility to
their operations. All Chavigni's talents and influence had been exerted
to oppose them; but that the Cardinal would resign his high office, he
had never suspected for a moment, and therefore the tidings brought by
Mazarin came upon him like a thunder-stroke, taking from him all faculty
of thought, but on that one thing. He was well aware too, that it was no
easy task to turn Richelieu from his purpose; and as he rode on, his
mind was solely occupied by a thousand tumultuous and ill-digested
plans, for preventing the execution of what the Cardinal designed.
Daylight set in the west, and night fell heavily over the earth without
exciting a thought in the bosom of Chavigni; for the irritation of his
feelings took away all sensation of bodily fatigue, and almost all
attention to external objects, till at length the failing pace of his
horse showed him that he at least must have rest; and accordingly he
paused for a short space at a little village, a few leagues from
Tarascon, in order to refresh his beast. But even here the agitation of
his mind prevented him from seeking any repose himself, and he continued
walking up and down before the little auberge, for the time that he was
thus compelled to remain.
It was considerably past midnight, when Chavigni arrived at the
residence of the Minister. On entering the court-yard, all was in
darkness, except where, in one spot, a light was seen burning in the
chamber of the invalid, and throwing dark across the window the bent
shadow of a sleeping attendant. The Statesman fastened his horse to one
of the iron hooks in the court-yard, and advanced, intending to make
himself heard by some one within, but he found that the grooms, grown
negligent during their Lord's sickness, had left the door unfastened,
and pushing it with his hand, it readily gave way. "It is like his
fate," thought Chavigni: "while he is ill and sleeping, the gate is left
open, and any one may enter."
Passing onward through the hall, he now mounted the grand staircase,
lighted by a lamp that had been left to die out as it might, and
approached the room where the Cardinal lay.
The door of the antechamber opened stiffly, but still the drowsy
attendant did not awake; and Chavigni passed on into the bed-chamber of
the Cardinal, without any one being aware of his presence. "Were this
but known," thought the Statesman, "how many assassins' hands would now
be armed for this one man's destruction!"
It was Richelieu alone, who, lying in feverish restlessness, caught the
sound of approaching steps; and there was a sort of intensity in the
glance which he fixed on the door communicating with the anteroom, which
seemed to say that his judgment of the visitor's purpose was not very
favourable. However that might be, whether from the recklessness of
illness, or from the torpor of one who regards the future as a blank, he
took no farther notice of the sound he heard, than by fixing his eyes
sternly on the door. But the next moment, as the light fell strongly on
the face of his friend, the countenance of Richelieu brightened with a
smile; and perceiving that Chavigni, who did not see he was awake,
approached silently towards the attendant to rouse him, the Cardinal
pronounced his name in an under-tone, and beckoned him towards his
bedside.
"It is grateful," said Richelieu, as the Statesman drew near, "to find
that even declining fortunes cannot alienate some hearts. You have seen
Mazarin, I suppose."
Chavigni was about to answer, but the sound of the Cardinal's voice had
awakened the attendant, who was now gazing about in no small alarm, on
perceiving a stranger standing by the Minister's bedside. Richelieu,
however, without showing any anger at his negligence, calmly commanded
him to leave them; and as soon as they were alone, Chavigni proceeded.
"I have seen Cardinal Mazarin, my Lord, and from him I have learned a
piece of news which grieves me most deeply. I cannot believe that
illness can have so far depressed the spirits of your Eminence, as to
make you entertain the thought of casting from you all those high
honours, which you have so long enjoyed, and of leaving France, in a
moment of her greatest peril, to be governed by the hands of the weak
and the designing."
"It is not illness, Chavigni," replied the Cardinal, with a melancholy
shake of the head. "No! but my day is over. The power has passed from my
hands, and it only remains for me to yield the name of it, before that
too is taken from me by my enemies."
"Pardon me, your Eminence," said Chavigni; "but indeed the power is not
gone from you. Under whose orders are our armies fighting? Under whose
command is every city and fortress in France? Is it the character of a
great man--is it the character of a brave man, to yield all without a
struggle?--to cast away the sword he has so long wielded, and to give
himself bound into the hands of his adversaries?"
"Mark me, Chavigni," said Richelieu, raising himself upon his elbow,
"Louis is now within the distance of a few leagues. He knows that I am
ill--perhaps that I am dying; and yet, by no sign of common courtesy
does he show that he remembers me. But that was not the beginning. I saw
that my power was gone, when he dared, in the face of all the Council,
to annul the sentence I had passed on that arrogant, stiff-necked Count
de Blenau, who had the hardihood to defy the utmost extent of my power."
And the Minister's eyes flashed with the memory of his anger.
"Had your Eminence followed my advice," replied Chavigni, "that business
would never have occurred. There is that sort of gallant magnanimity
about Claude de Blenau which carries all before it; and I felt assured
that neither fear nor interest would ever induce him to disclose any
thing intrusted to his honour. Depend upon it, Monseigneur, that it is
better not to meddle with such men, when we can avoid it."
"Well, well, Sir," exclaimed the Cardinal, impatiently, "without doubt
you were quite right and I was quite wrong. But do not teach me to
believe that you too, Chavigni, lose your respect for my person when my
power is failing."
"Pardon me, your Eminence," replied Chavigni, in a tone of deep feeling,
"you wrong me much. Your Eminence has been more than a father to me.
During the continuance of your power you have always exerted it in my
favour; and whether it remains with you or not, my respect and my
affection will never fail to follow you in every situation. Believe me,
Monseigneur, that it is that respect and affection, which brings me here
even now, to petition that you will wave your intention of----"
"Chavigni, it is useless," interposed the Cardinal. "I have only the
choice left, to yield it of my own free will, or to have it wrenched
from my unwilling hand. Judge which is the wisest--judge which is the
best."
"Were that certainly the case," said Chavigni, thoughtfully.
"It _is_ certainly the case," replied the Minister. "There are many,
many combined against me:--singly, they are but reeds, and one by one I
would break them like reeds; but united together, and with the King at
their head,"--and he shook his head despairingly,--"they are far too
strong either for you or me!"
"But could no means be found to separate them? Bethink you,
Monseigneur,--avarice, revenge, ambition, might sow the seeds of discord
amongst them, and give them like sheep into our hands."
"It is too late, my friend!" replied the Cardinal: "it is too late! Had
I foreseen it, I might have prevented their combining. I might have
crushed some, and bribed others; destroyed the powerful, and overawed
the timid. But it is now too late!"
"But whom does your Eminence think particularly implicated?" demanded
Chavigni.
"Oh, there are many--many--many!" replied Richelieu, withdrawing the
thin pale hand he had stretched over his face as he finished the last
desponding words "too late," probably desirous of hiding the emotion
produced by the conviction that his power was irretrievably gone.
However, when that hand was removed, his countenance showed no traces of
any remaining agitation. "There are many, Chavigni," he said: "there are
Vendome, and Bouillon, and noisy Beaufort, and turbulent Gaston of
Orleans, and witty Marsillac, and cool, moralizing De Thou, who has so
often dared to pry into my actions and condemn them;--then there is,
above all, sly Fontrailles, and Cinq Mars, whom I----"
"Ha!" exclaimed Chavigni, as the Cardinal's words recalled to his mind
the conversation between Cinq Mars and Fontrailles--"I had forgot--like
an idiot, I had forgot!" and he struck his clenched hand violently
against his brow, as if he sought to punish his own folly. "But it is
not yet too late," he cried, "it is not yet too late."
"Forgot what, Chavigni?" demanded the Cardinal, seeing with astonishment
the emotion which was called up in his friend by the remembrance of so
great an oversight. "Forgot what? Too late for what? What is it moves
you so deeply?"
"Pardon me, your Eminence," replied Chavigni, "I have not time to
explain; only I have to ask two favours. The first is, that you will
let me take a stout horse from your stables; mine will go no farther.
The next," he added, in a tone of greater composure, but still one of
earnest entreaty--"the next is, if you had ever a regard for me--if ever
I served you well and faithfully, that you will promise me to take no
step in the business we have spoken of, till my return; which shall be
before to-morrow evening."
"It can make but little difference waiting till that time," answered the
Cardinal. "But what is the matter, Chavigni? What is it agitates you
thus?"
"Have I your promise, Monseigneur?" asked Chavigni quickly.
"You have," said Richelieu. "Out of regard for you, and solely because
you ask it, I will suspend my resolution till your return."
"Well then, God protect your Eminence till we meet again!" exclaimed the
Statesman. "I go upon your service; and if I do not succeed, I care not
how soon my head may be brought to the block, as a just punishment for
my mad forgetfulness." Thus saying, he quitted the room, and descending
to the stables, called up the grooms whose sleepy movements ill
accorded with the rapid emotions of his bosom. Now the stirrups were not
long enough, then the girths had to be buckled tighter, then the bit was
mislaid, and then the crupper could not be found. At length, however,
the horse was fully prepared, and calling for a cup of wine, Chavigni
drained it to the bottom, and galloping out of the court, was soon once
more on the road to Narbonne. But it was in vain that he used whip and
spur to arrive at that town before the hour appointed for the Italian's
departure. Ere he had measured half the way, the day rose bright over
the hills before him, and clenching his hands, he exclaimed in the
bitterness of disappointment, "Too late! I am too late!" Still, however,
he went on at full speed, hoping that by sending out couriers in every
different direction he might yet overtake the messenger.
Every one who has ridden from Tarascon to Narbonne must remember the
picturesque beauties of that part of the country. At the spot where
Chavigni had now arrived, high rocks breaking forth from a thick
covering of wood skirted his way on each side, and having ascended to
the top of the hill, an immense valley lay before him, scattered with
forests and broken into a thousand inferior ridges, some of which bore
upon their summits the steeple of a village church, some the ruins of
those ancient towers which had been erected in days gone by to defend
the passes from the neighbouring Moors of Spain. At his feet thin waves
of white mist floating in the morning light, partially obscured the road
he was going, till, rising out of the trees, it was seen winding along
the mountains on the other side. Chavigni paused for a moment to trace
its direction; and as he did so, his eye fell upon the figure of a
single horseman, descending into the valley from the opposite hill.
"Whom have we here?" thought the Statesman, not without a faint hope
that it might be the person he sought. Spurring on his horse, however,
he rode forward to meet him; but on reaching the bottom of the descent,
the figure he had seen from above became hidden by the windings of the
road amongst the trees, and Chavigni's heart fluttered lest the
horseman, whoever he was, might have taken the other road which turned
through the valley to the left.
At length, however, the sound of a horse's feet was heard approaching
quickly towards him, and, certain that he must now pass that way, the
Statesman drew in his rein, and stood with his eyes intently fixed upon
the spot where the road verged into the forest. As there was still a
considerable descent from the spot where Chavigni paused to the bottom
of the valley, the sound was heard for a long time coming nearer and
nearer before any one appeared. At length, however, the horseman came in
sight, presenting to the glad eyes of the Statesman the identical figure
of the Italian, Villa Grande, with his long sword, extensive mustaches,
and a pair of heavy pistols at his saddle-bow.
Chavigni doubted not that to possess himself of the papers which the
Italian carried, would require a desperate struggle, but without a
moment's hesitation he drew his sword, and galloped on to attack him. No
sooner had Villa Grande perceived a stranger on the road before him,
than he reined in his horse; but now, as Chavigni rode on full speed
towards him with a menacing attitude and drawn sword, the Italian, in
his terror, conceived at once that it was a robber, and throwing himself
to the ground in mortal fear, he fell on his knees, exclaiming--"I will
give it you all--every ducat, only spare my life!"
"Rise, rise! cowardly villain!" cried Chavigni, catching the bridle of
the Italian's horse, which was starting away with a wild toss of the
head, as the Statesman rode up;--"rise, Sir Poltroon! do you not know
me?"
"Know you! know you!" exclaimed Villa Grande, gazing wildly at Chavigni.
"Oh, Monseigneur, is it you? How you frightened me!" But Villa Grande,
who had trembled sufficiently when he thought it was a robber, trembled
ten times more than ever as he recognised the Statesman; and he could
scarcely find strength in his knees to raise himself from the ground.
"Rise, Sir!" exclaimed Chavigni impatiently; "and instantly give me the
treaty."
"Treaty!" cried Villa Grande, still trembling, but endeavouring to put
on a look of astonishment. "What treaty does Monseigneur mean? I know of
no treaty."
"Lying slave!" exclaimed Chavigni, striking him with the flat side of
his sword; "if you do not produce it within ten seconds of time, by
Heaven I will cut it out of your base cowardly heart!"
"But if I do----" said the Italian, seeing there was no escape left.
"Come, Sir," cried the Statesman; "no _buts_ for me. If you stand
shuffling one minute more, I will run my sword through you, and search
for it on your carcase myself."
"Well, well! Monseigneur, I see you know it all, and therefore it will
be no stain on my honour if I give it to you."
"Honour!" cried Chavigni, with a scoff.--"Come, Sir, the treaty."
Villa Grande approached his horse, and raising the flap of the saddle,
with shaking hands, drew forth, from a pocket concealed in the padding,
a large paper sealed in an envelope. Chavigni caught it eagerly from his
grasp, and running his eye over the address, he read--"To Monseigneur
the Duke de Bouillon, Commander-in-Chief of all the armies of France,
warring in Italy."--"Ha!" continued the Statesman, "this is not the road
to Italy. What brings you here?" and he turned towards Villa Grande. But
while the Statesman's eyes were fixed upon the paper, the wily Italian
had begun to creep towards the wood; Chavigni, however, perceiving his
design, caught one of the pistols from the horse's saddle-bow, and
pointing it towards the fugitive, soon brought him back again. "Stand
you there, Sir," said he. "Now tell me what makes you here, when this
packet was intended for Italy?"
"Why, Monseigneur--why--why--to tell the truth, there was another little
despatch to be delivered on the frontiers of Spain; here it is;" and
diving into a deep pocket in his doublet, he produced a packet smaller
than the other, and gave it into Chavigni's hand. "And now, Monseigneur,
I have freely discovered all I know," continued Villa Grande, "I hope
that you, Monseigneur, will promise me your protection; for if the other
party get hold of me, they will murder me to a certainty."
Chavigni made no answer, but without any ceremony broke the seals of the
two packets, and passing his horse's bridle over his arm while he read
them, he opened the treaty, and turned to the list of names by which it
was signed. In the mean while, Villa Grande kept his eyes fixed upon
him, watching for a favourable moment to escape, if the Statesman's
attention should be sufficiently engaged to allow him so to do.
"Ah! here I have them fairly written," proceeded Chavigni, speaking to
himself. "Philip, the most Catholic!--Olivarez!--then follow Gaston of
Orleans; Cinq Mars, Grand Ecuyer--Fontrailles;--and a space--for
Bouillon of course. Now let us see the letter to the noble Duke;" and he
opened the one which he found in the same packet with the treaty. But as
he read, his eye fixed with painful earnestness upon the paper, and the
colour fled from his cheek. "God of Heaven! what is this?" said he,
reading. "'Though I doubt not, my noble friend, that after all which has
lately passed, you would put your forces in motion at my simple desire,
the King's command is yet higher authority; and that I now send you, to
march with all speed to the frontier, embarking five thousand foot at
Porto Longone, to land at Marseilles. All this in case the friends and
adherents of Richelieu should attempt to make head against the royal
authority.'----"
"All is lost!" muttered Chavigni. "But let us see the whole, at least,
to provide for our own safety;" and he again turned to the paper, which
proceeded--"'I send you the treaty with Spain for your signature, which
is especially necessary to the article relative to your principality of
Sedan. The troops of his Catholic Majesty are on the frontier, ready to
march at our command; but I have been obliged to conceal from the King
our Spanish connexion, as his hatred to that country is as great as
ever.'"
"I have you! I have you! Monsieur Cinq Mars," exclaimed Chavigni,
clasping his hands with joy. "This treaty is your death warrant, or I
know not King Louis.--Italian scoundrel!" he continued, turning to look
for Villa Grande--"Ha! the slave has escaped--that must not be; he were
the best witness in the world against them;" and springing from his
horse, he tied him to a tree together with that of the Italian.
While Chavigni had been reading, with all his attention fixed upon the
paper, and all his passions excited by its contents, Villa Grande,
watching his moment, had crept gradually to the edge of the wood, and
darted into a narrow path, half covered with branches. But though the
way he had taken was thus, in a degree, concealed, it did not escape the
quick eye of the Statesman; and as the motions of the Italian, till he
had got into the wood, had been necessarily cautious, in order not to
call his attention; Chavigni, following as fast as lightning, soon
caught the sound of his retreating footsteps, reverberated from the
rocks around. As he advanced, he called loudly to the Italian to stop,
and that he should have a free pardon; but Villa Grande, trusting to the
distance that was still between them, and hoping, if he could elude
immediate pursuit, to be able to escape into Spain, continued running
on, while Chavigni as perseveringly followed, threatening and promising
by turns, but alike without effect.
At length the strength of the Italian, already diminished by fear, began
to fail entirely; and Chavigni found that the distance between them was
rapidly lessening, when in a moment the sound of footsteps, which had
hitherto guided him, ceased entirely--a cry of agony reached his ear;
and running still more quickly forward, he, too, had nearly been
precipitated over the edge of a steep crag, which, in the hurry of his
flight, the unhappy Italian had not noticed. The Statesman's first
impulse was to start back, for he was on the very brink of the precipice
before he was aware; but soon recovering himself, he approached the
edge, and looking over, beheld the mangled form of Villa Grande lying
on some rough stony ground at the bottom of the rock.
"God of Heaven!" cried Chavigni, "what a fall! The poor wretch must
surely be dead. However, he must not lie there, for the wolves will soon
be at him;" and looking around, he sought for some way to descend the
rock. It was a considerable time before he could accomplish his object,
but at length he succeeded, and on arriving at the spot where Villa
Grande lay, he found that the Italian, in his flight, had taken a
diagonal path through the forest, which cut off a large bend in the main
road, and joined it again by a zig-zag path down the rock at some
distance. Thus the spot where Villa Grande was then lying, was about
half a mile from the place at which he had first been encountered by
Chavigni, if the high road was followed; but by the path through the
wood the distance could not be more than a few hundred yards. Chavigni's
first care was to examine the body of the Italian, who was so entirely
deprived of sense, that at first the Statesman believed him to be dead;
but in a moment or two some signs appeared which led him to conclude
that life was not completely extinct; and taking him in his arms he
carried him to the spot where the horses stood. Here he placed him on
the stout black hunter which Cinq Mars had lent, and led him slowly to a
small town about a mile farther on the road.
It has been already stated, that hardly was there a village so small in
the whole extent of France as not to be furnished with one or more of
those agents of Richelieu's minute policy, whose principal duty
consisted in communicating every thing that passed around them to
another class of superior agents, and also to facilitate all the secret
operations of Government in the sphere ascribed to them. The actual pay
received by these men was but small; but the favour shown to them on all
occasions, and the facilities afforded to them in their more ordinary
employments, put them above competition with others in the same class,
and amply rewarded their private services: for it must always be
remembered that their connexion with the Government was held as a
profound secret, and consequently they always were seen to exercise some
open trade, which, in most cases, prevented their less ostensible
employment from being even suspected by their neighbours.
It was to the house of one of these inferior agents that Chavigni led
the horse charged with the senseless body of Villa Grande; and having
commanded that he should be taken in and placed in bed, he himself aided
in endeavouring to recall him to life, partly from the natural humanity
of his disposition, partly from those political considerations which
were ever paramount in his mind. Villa Grande, if he could be restored,
would prove, Chavigni knew, too excellent a witness against the
conspirators whom he had served, to permit of his life being lightly
cast away; especially as it was evident, that either fear or bribery
would induce him to confess any thing: but even had it not been for this
reflection, the Statesman's natural disposition would probably have led
him to succour the unhappy man, in whose misfortune he had been so
greatly instrumental.
After many efforts, Villa Grande once more began to evince that the
vital spark was not yet extinguished; and having so far succeeded,
Chavigni, upon whose mind a thousand subjects of deep import were
pressing every moment for attention, gave directions to the agent we
have already mentioned, to show every attention to the wounded man, and
to keep him, for that day, at his own house, which was situated a
quarter of a league out of Limoux; but as soon as night came, to have
him privately removed to Corneille, at which place a surgeon could be
more easily procured from Carcasonne; and having reiterated the most
strict injunctions to keep the whole business profoundly secret, lest
the conspirators should learn the fate of their envoy, and take their
measures accordingly, Chavigni once more turned his steps towards
Tarascon, to recount to Richelieu the events of the day.