The bureau of a Counsellor of State, or how things were managed in
1642.
"Marteville, you have served me essentially," said the Count de Chavigni
as soon as he had left Pauline in what was called the ladies' hall of
the Hotel de Bouthilliers, addressing the tall Norman, whom the reader
has already recognised beyond a doubt. "You know I never suffer any good
service to go without its reward; therefore I will now pay you yours,
more especially as I have fresh demands to make upon your zeal. Let us
see how our accounts stand;" and approaching a small table, which served
both for the purposes of a writing-desk and also to support a strong
ebony cabinet clasped with silver, he drew forth a bunch of keys and
opened a drawer plated with iron, which contained a quantity of gold and
silver coin. Chavigni then seated himself at the table, and the Norman
standing on his right hand, they began regularly to balance accounts,
the items of the Norman's charge being various services of rather a
curious nature.
"For stopping the Archduke's courier," said Chavigni, "and taking from
him his despatches--fifty crowns is enough for that."
"I demand no more," said Marteville; "any common thief could have done
it."
"But, by the way, I hope you did not hurt him, for he came with a safe
conduct."
"Hurt him! no," replied the Norman: "we are the best friends in the
world. When I met him on the road, I told him civilly that I must have
his despatches; and that I would either cut his throat or drink a bottle
with him, whichever he liked: so he chose the latter, and when we
parted, he promised to give me notice the next time he came on the same
errand."
"The rascal!" said Chavigni, "that is the way we are served. But now we
come to this business of the Count de Blenau--what do you expect for the
whole concern?"
"Nay but, Monseigneur, you forget," exclaimed the other; "there is one
little item before that. Put down,--for being an Astrologer."
"Why, I have given you fifty crowns on that account already," rejoined
the Statesman; "you are exorbitant, Seigneur Marteville."
"That fifty crowns went for my expenses--all of it," replied the other.
"There was my long black robe all covered with gimcracks; there was my
leathern belt, painted with all the signs under heaven; there was my
white beard, and wig, which cost me ten good crowns at the shop of
Jansen the Peruquier: besides the harness of my horse, which was made to
suit, and my Astrologer's bonnet, which kept all fast upon my head.
Now, Monseigneur, you cannot give me less than fifty crowns, for being
out two nights, and running the risk of being burnt alive."
"I think not," said Chavigni, "so let that pass. But to come to the
other business."
"Why, first and foremost," replied the Norman, marking each article as
he named it, by laying the index of his right hand upon one of the
immense fingers of his left,--"For making love to Mademoiselle's maid."
"Nay, nay, nay!" cried Chavigni, "this is too much. That must be part of
the dower I have promised with her, of which we will talk presently. But
have you married her?"
"No," answered the Norman, "not yet. We will see about that hereafter."
Chavigni's cheek reddened, and his brow knit into a heavy frown. "No
evasions, Sir. I commanded you, when you took her away last night from
Chantilly, to marry her directly, and you agreed to do so. Why is it not
done?"
"If the truth must be told, Monseigneur, it is not done, because it goes
against a Norman gentleman's stomach to take up with any body's
cast-offs."
"Do not be insolent, Sir," cried the Statesman. "Did I not give you my
honour that your suspicion was false? Know, Sir, that though Chavigni
may sometimes condescend to converse with you, or may appear to trifle
for a moment with a girl like this Louise, it is merely to gain some
greater object that he does so; and that unless it be for some State
purpose, he never honours such beings with his thoughts."
"Well, well, Monseigneur," replied the other, seeing the fire that
flashed in his Lord's eye, "I will marry her: _Foy de Normand!_ Don't be
angry; I will marry her."
"_Foy de Normand!_ will not do," said Chavigni. "It must be this very
night."
"_Eh bien! Eh bien! Soit_," cried the Norman, and then muttered to
himself with a grin, "I've four wives now living; a fifth won't make
much difference."
"What murmur you, Sir?" demanded the Statesman. "Mark me! in one hour
from hence you will find a priest and two witnesses in the Cardinal's
chapel! When you are married, the priest will give you a certificate of
the ceremony, carry it to my intendant, and upon the sight of it he will
pay you the sum we agree upon. Now, proceed with your demands."
"Well then, Monseigneur," continued Marteville, "what is the information
concerning Mademoiselle's coming to Paris worth?"
"It is worth a good deal," replied Chavigni, "and I will always pay more
for knowledge of that kind than any acts of brute force. Set that down
for a hundred crowns, and fifty more for catching the young lady, and
bringing her here; making altogether two hundred and fifty."
"Yes, Sir, yes; but the _dot_--the dowry you mentioned," cried the
Norman. "You have forgot that."
"No, I have not," replied Chavigni. "In favour of Louise, I will make
the sum up one thousand crowns, which you will receive the moment you
have married her."
"Oh! I'll marry her directly, if that be the case," cried the Norman.
"_Morbleu!_ that makes all the difference."
"But treat her kindly," said Chavigni. "With the stipend of a thousand
crowns, which I allow you yearly, and what you can gain by particular
services, you may live very well; and perhaps I may add some little
gratification, if you please me in your conduct towards your wife."
"Oh! I'll be the tenderest husband living," cried the Norman, "since my
gratification depends upon her's. But I'll run and fetch her to be
married directly, if you will send the Priest, Monseigneur."
"Nay, stop a moment," said the Statesman. "You forget that I told you I
had other journeys for you to take, and other services for you to
perform."
"No, Sir," answered the Norman, "all is prepared to set out this very
night, if you will tell me my errand."
Chavigni paused for a moment, and remained in deep thought, gnawing his
lip as if embarrassed by doubts as to the best manner of proceeding.
"Mark me, Marteville," said he at length: "there are two or three sorts
of scoundrels in the world, amongst whom I do not look upon you as the
least." The Norman bowed with the utmost composure, very well aware of
the place he held in Chavigni's opinion. "There are, however, some good
points about you," continued the Statesman; at which Marteville bowed
again. "You would rob, kill, and plunder, I believe, without remorse,
any one you hated or did not care about; but I do not think you would
forget a kindness or betray a trust."
"Never!" said the Norman: "red-hot pincers will not tear from me what is
intrusted to my honour."
"So be it, then, in the present instance," said Chavigni; "for I am
obliged to give you the knowledge of some things, and to enter into
explanations with you, which I do not often do with any one. You must
know, then, I have information that on the same day that Monsieur de
Cinq Mars set out from Chantilly with Monsieur de Thou, the Duke of
Orleans, with Montressor and St. Ibal, took their departure from
Moulins, and the Count de Fontrailles from Paris. They all journeyed
towards the same point in Champagne. I can trace Fontrailles to Troyes,
the Duke and his companions to Villeneuve, and Cinq Mars and De Thou to
Nogent, but no farther. All this might be accidental, but there are
circumstances that create suspicion in my mind. Cinq Mars, when he set
forth, gave out that he went to his estate near Troyes, in which I find
he never set his foot; and when he returned, his conference with Louis
was somewhat long. It might have been of hawks and hounds, it is true;
but after it, the King's manner both to the Cardinal and myself was cold
and haughty, and he suddenly took this resolution of coming to Paris
himself to examine into the case of the young Count de Blenau:--in
short, I suspect that some plot is on foot. What I require of you then
is, to hasten down to Champagne; try to trace each of these persons, and
discover if they had a conference, and where; find out the business that
brought each of them so far, examine their track as you would the slot
of a deer, and give me whatever information you collect; employ every
means to gain a thorough knowledge of all their proceedings--force,
should it be required--but let that be the last thing used. Here is this
signet, upon the sight of which all the agents of Government in the
different towns and villages will communicate with you." And he drew
from his finger a small seal ring, which the Norman consigned to his
pocket, his hands being somewhat too large to admit of his wearing it in
the usual manner.
"The Duke of Orleans and his pack I know well," answered Marteville,
"and also Cinq Mars and De Thou; but this Count de Fontrailles--what
like is he, Monseigneur?"
"He is a little ugly mean-looking man," replied Chavigni; "he frequently
dresses himself in grey, and looks like a sorcerer. Make him your first
object; for if ever there was a devil of cunning upon earth, it is
Fontrailles, and he is at the bottom of the plot if there be one."
"You traced him to Troyes, you say, Monseigneur? Had he any pretence of
business there?"
"None," answered Chavigni; "my account says that he had no attendants
with him, lodged at the _Auberge du Grand Soleil_, and was poorly
dressed."
"I will trace him if he were the Devil himself," said the Norman; "and
before I see you again, Monseigneur, I shall be able to account for each
of these gentry."
"If you do," said Chavigni, "a thousand crowns is your reward; and if
you discover any plot or treasonable enterprise, so that by your means
they may be foiled and brought to justice, the thousand shall grow into
ten thousand, and you shall have a place that will give you a life of
luxury."
The Norman's eyes sparkled at the anticipation, and his imagination
pourtrayed himself and his five wives living together in celestial
harmony, drinking the best vintages of Burgundy and Epernay, eating of
the fat of the land, and singing like mad. These blissful ideas were
first interrupted by the sound of horses' feet in the court. "Hark!"
cried Chavigni, "they are putting the horses to the carriage; go down,
and see that all be prepared for the young lady's journey."
"Instantly," answered the Norman, "and after that I will carry Louise to
the Priest, finger your Lordship's cash, and we will set off for
Troyes."
"Do you intend to take her with you?" demanded Chavigni, in some
surprise.
"Nay, my Lord, you would not wish me to leave my bride on our wedding
night, surely," replied the Norman, in a mock sentimental tone. "But the
truth is, I think she may be useful. Woman's wit will often find a way
where man's wisdom looks in vain; and as I have now, thanks to your
bounty, two good horses, I shall e'en set Louise upon one of them, and
with the bridle rein over my arm lead her to Brie, where, with your good
leave, we will sleep, and thence on upon our journey. Travelling with a
woman, no one will suspect my real object, and I shall come sooner at my
purpose."
"Well, so be it then," answered the Statesman. "You are now, as you
wished to be, intrusted with an affair of more importance than stopping
a courier, or carrying off a weak girl; and as the reward is greater, so
would be the punishment in case you were to betray your trust. I rely on
your honour; but let me hint at the same time, that there is such a
thing as the rack, which has more than once been applied to persons who
reveal State secrets. Keep good account of your expenses, and such as
are truly incurred for the Government, the Government wall pay."
Thus ended the conference between Chavigni and the Norman, neither of
whom we shall follow much farther in this volume. Of Chavigni it is only
necessary to say, that immediately after the departure of Pauline he
proceeded to the Louvre to wait the arrival of Louis the Thirteenth, who
soon after entered Paris, accompanied by the Queen, Cinq Mars, and all
the usual attendants of the court, and followed by the Cardinal and
those members of the Council who had not previously arrived along with
Chavigni.
In regard to the Norman, inspired by the agreeable prospect of a
thousand crowns, he was not long in visiting the Chapel of the Palais
Cardinal, where the Priest speedily united him to a black-eyed damsel
that he brought in his hand. Who this was, it does not suit me to
discover to the reader. If he have found it out already, I cannot help
it; but if he have not, I vow and protest that in the whole course of
this true history I will afford him no farther explanation; no, not even
in the last sentence of the last page of the last volume.
Immediately after their marriage the Norman put his bride upon horseback
and proceeded to Brie, each carrying behind them a valise, containing a
variety of articles which would doubtless greatly edify the reader to
learn, but which unfortunately cannot now be detailed at full length,
the schedule having been lost some years after by one of their
collateral descendants in the great fire of London, where it had found
its way in consequence of the revocation of the edict of Nantes. All
that can be affirmed with certainty is, that in the valise of the Norman
were three shirts and a half with falling collars, according to the
fashion of that day; a pourpoint or doublet of blue velvet, (which was
his best,) and a cloak to match; also (of the same stuff) a
_haut-de-chausses_, which was a machine then used for the same purpose
as a pair of breeches now-a-days; and over and above all the rest was
his Astrologer's robe and grey beard, folded round a supernumerary brace
of pistols, and a small stiletto. Into the Lady's wardrobe we shall not
inquire: suffice it to say, that it accompanied its mistress safe from
Brie to Troyes, where, putting up at the _Grand Soleil_, the Norman
began his perquisitions concerning Fontrailles.
Now having left all my friends and acquaintances at sixes and sevens, I
shall close this volume; and if the reader be interested in their fate,
he may go on to the next, in which I mean utterly to annihilate them
all, leaving nothing behind but the sole of the Count de Blenau's shoe,
with FINIS at the bottom of the page.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY,
Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
aud the servant again=> and the servant again {pg 118}