He was silent again for a time, and then he moved his hand in a
helpless sort of way across his forehead. It had become deeply
lined and wrinkled all in a couple of years. His temples were
sunken, his cheeks hollow, and his face was full of those shadows
which lend a sort of tragedy to even the humblest and least
distinguished countenance. His eyes had a restlessness, anon an
intense steadiness almost uncanny, and his thin, long fingers had a
stealthiness of motion, a soft swiftness, which struck me strangly.
I never saw a man so changed. He was like a vessel wrested from its
moorings; like some craft, filled with explosives, set loose along
a shore lined with fishing-smacks, which might come foul of one,
and blow the company of men and boats into the air. As he stood
there, his face half turned to me for a moment, this came to my
mind, and I said to him, "Voban, you look like some wicked gun
which would blow us all to pieces."
He wheeled, and came to me so swiftly that I shrank back in my
chair with alarm, his action was so sudden, and, peering into my
face, he said, glancing, as I thought, anxiously at the jailer,
"Blow--blow--how blow us all to pieces, m'sieu'?" He eyed me with
suspicion, and I could see that he felt like some hurt animal among
its captors, ready to fight, yet not knowing from what point danger
would come. Something pregnant in what I said had struck home, yet
I could not guess then what it was, though afterwards it came to me
with great force and vividness.
"I meant nothing, Voban," answered I, "save that you look dangerous."
I half put out my hand to touch his arm in a friendly way, but I
saw that the jailer was watching, and I did not. Voban felt what I
was about to do, and his face instantly softened, and his blood-shot
eyes gave me a look of gratitude. Then he said:
"I will tell you what happen next I know the palace very well,
and when I see the Intendant and M'sieu' Doltaire and others leave
the ballroom I knew that they go to the chamber which they call 'la
Chambre de la Joie,' to play at cards. So I steal away out of the
crowd into a passage which, as it seem, go nowhere, and come quick,
all at once, to a bare wall. But I know the way. In one corner of
the passage I press a spring, and a little panel open. I crawl
through and close it behin'. Then I feel my way along the dark
corner till I come to another panel. This I open, and I see light.
You ask how I can do this? Well, I tell you. There is the valet of
Bigot, he is my friend. You not guess who it is? No? It is a man
whose crime in France I know. He was afraid when he saw me here,
but I say to him, 'No, I will not speak--never'; and he is all
my friend just when I most need. Eh, voila, I see light, as I said,
and I push aside heavy curtains ver' little, and there is the
Chamber of the Joy below. There they all are, the Intendant and the
rest, sitting down to the tables. There was Capitaine Lancy, M'sieu'
Cadet, M'sieu' Cournal, M'sieu' le Chevalier de Levis, and M'sieu'
le Generale, le Marquis de Montcalm. I am astonish to see him there,
the great General, in his grand coat of blue and gold and red, and
laces tres beau at his throat, with a fine jewel. Ah, he is not ver'
high on his feet, but he has an eye all fire, and a laugh come quick
to his lips, and he speak ver' galant, but he never let them,
Messieurs Cadet, Marin, Lancy, and the rest, be thick friends with
him. They do not clap their hands on his shoulder comme le bon
camarade--non!
"Well, they sit down to play, and soon there is much noise and
laughing, and then sometimes a silence, and then again the noise,
and you can see one snuff a candle with the points of two rapiers,
or hear a sword jangle at a chair, or listen to some one sing ver'
soft a song as he hold a good hand of cards, or the ring of louis
on the table, or the sound of glass as it break on the floor. And
once a young gentleman--alas! he is so young--he get up from his
chair, and cry out, 'All is lost! I go to die!' He raise a pistol
to his head; but M'sieu' Doltaire catch his hand, and say quite
soft and gentle, 'No, no, mon enfant, enough of making fun
of us. Here is the hunder' louis I borrow of you yesterday. Take
your revenge.' The lad sit down slow, looking ver' strange at
M'sieu' Doltaire. And it is true: he took his revenge out of
M'sieu' Cadet, for he win--I saw it--three hunder' louis. Then
M'sieu' Doltaire lean over to him and say, 'M'sieu', you will
carry for me a message to the citadel for M'sieu' Ramesay, the
commandant.' Ah, it was a sight to see M'sieu' Cadet's face, going
this way and that. But it was no use: the young gentleman pocket
his louis, and go away with a letter from M'sieu' Doltaire. But
M'sieu' Doltaire, he laugh in the face of M'sieu' Cadet, and say
ver' pleasant, 'That is a servant of the King, m'sieu', who live by
his sword alone. Why should civilians be so greedy? Come, play,
M'sieu' Cadet. If M'sieu' the General will play with me, we two
will what we can do with you and his Excellency the Intendant.'
"They sit just beneath me, and I hear all what is said, I see all
the looks of them, every card that is played. M'sieu' the General
have not play yet, but watch M'sieu' Doltaire and the Intendant at
the cards. With a smile he now sit down. Then M'sieu' Doltaire, he
say, 'M'sieu' Cadet, let us have no mistake--let us be commercial.'
He take out his watch. 'I have two hours to spare; are you dispose
to play for that time only? To the moment we will rise, and there
shall be no question of satisfaction, no discontent anywhere--eh,
shall it be so, if m'sieu' the General can spare the time also?' It
is agree that the General play for one hour and go, and that M'sieu'
Doltaire and the Intendant play for the rest of the time.
"They begin, and I hide there and watch. The time go ver' fast,
and my breath catch in my throat to see how great the stakes they
play for. I hear M'sieu' Doltaire say at last, with a smile, taking
out his watch, 'M'sieu' the General, your time is up, and you take
with you twenty thousan' francs.'
"The General, he smile and wave his hand, as if sorry to take so
much from M'sieu' Cadet and the Intendant. M'sieu' Cadet sit dark,
and speak nothing at first, but at last he get up and turn on his
heel and walk away, leaving what he lose on the table. M'sieu' the
General bow also, and go from the room. Then M'sieu' Doltaire and
the Intendant play. One by one the other players stop, and come and
watch these. Something get into the two gentlemen, for both are
pale, and the face of the Intendant all of spots, and his little
round eyes like specks of red fire; but M'sieu' Doltaire's face,
it is still, and his brows bend over, and now and then he make a
little laughing out of his lips. All at once I hear him say, 'Double
the stakes, your Excellency!' The Intendant look up sharp and say,
'What! Two hunder' thousan' francs!'--as if M'sieu' Doltaire could
not pay such a like that. M'sieu' Doltaire smile ver' wicked, and
answer, 'Make it three hunder' thousan' francs, your Excellency.' It
is so still in the Chamber of the Joy that all you hear for a minute
was the fat Monsieur Varin breathe like a hog, and the rattle of a
spur as some one slide a foot on the floor.
"The Intendant look blank; then he nod his head for answer, and
each write on a piece of paper. As they begin, M'sieu' Doltaire
take out his watch and lay it on the table, and the Intendant
do the same, and they both look at the time. The watch of the
Intendant is all jewels. 'Will you not add the watches to the
stake?' say M'sieu' Doltaire. The Intendant look, and shrug a
shoulder, and shake his head for no, and M'sieu' Doltaire smile in
a sly way, so that the Intendant's teeth show at his lips and his
eyes almost close, he is so angry.
"Just this minute I hear a low noise behind me, and then some
one give a little cry. I turn quick and Madame Cournal. She stretch
her hand, and touch my lips, and motion me not to stir. I look down
again, and I see that M'sieu' Doltaire look up to the where I am,
for he hear that sound, I think--I not know sure. But he say once
more, 'The watch, the watch, your Excellency! I have a fancy for
yours!' I feel madame breathe hard beside me, but I not like to
look at her. I am not afraid of men, but a woman that way--ah, it
make me shiver! She will betray me, I think. All at once I feel her
hand at my belt, then at my pocket, to see if I have a weapon; for
the thought come to her that I am there to kill Bigot. But I raise
my hands and say, 'No,' ver' quiet, and she nod her head all right.
"The Intendant wave his hand at M'sieu' Doltaire to say he would
not stake the watch, for I know it is one madame give him; and then
they begin to play. No one stir. The cards go out flip, flip, on the
table, and with a little soft scrape in the hands, and I hear
Bigot's hound much a bone. All at once M'sieu' Doltaire throw down
his cards, and say, 'Mine, Bigot! Three hunder' thousan' francs,
and the time is up!' The other get from his chair, and say, 'How
would you have pay if you had lost, Doltaire?' And m'sieu' answer,
'From the coffers of the King, like you, Bigot' His tone is odd.
I feel madame's breath go hard. Bigot turn round and say to the
others, 'Will you take your way to the great hall, messieurs,
and M'sieu' Doltaire and I will follow. We have some private
conf'rence.' They all turn away, all but M'sieu' Cournal, and leave
the room, whispering. 'I will join you soon, Cournal,' say his
Excellency. M'sieu' Cournal not go, for he have been drinking, and
something stubborn got into him. But the Intendant order him rough,
and he go. I can hear madame gnash her teeth sof' beside me.
"When the door close, the Intendant turn to M'sieu' Doltaire and
say, 'What is the end for which you play?' M'sieu' Doltaire make a
light motion of his hand, and answer, 'For three hunder' thousan'
francs.' 'And to pay, m'sieu', how to pay if you have lost?'
M'sieu' Doltaire lay his hand on his sword sof'. 'From the King's
coffers, as I say; he owes me more than he has paid. But not like
you, Bigot. I have earned, this way and that, all that I might ever
get from the King's coffers--even this three hunder' thousan'
francs, ten times told. But you, Bigot--tush! why should we make
bubbles of words?' The Intendant get white in the face, but there
are spots on it like on a late apple of an old tree. 'You go too
far, Doltaire,' he say. 'You have hint before my officers and my
friends that I make free with the King's coffers.' M'sieu' answer,
'You should see no such hints, if your palms were not musty.' 'How
know you,' ask the Intendant, 'that my hands are musty from the
King's coffers?' M'sieu' arrange his laces, and say light, 'As
easy from the must as I tell how time passes in your nights by the
ticking of this trinket here.' He raise his sword and touch the
Intendant's watch on the table.
"I never hear such silence as there is for a minute, and then the
Intendant say, 'You have gone one step too far. The must on my
hands, seen through your eyes, is no matter, but when you must the
name of a lady there is but one end. You understan', m'sieu', there
is but one end.' M'sieu' laugh. 'The sword, you mean? Eh? No, no,
I will not fight with you. I am not here to rid the King of so
excellent an officer, however large fee he force for his services.'
'And I tell you,' say the Intendant, 'that I will not have you cast
a slight upon a lady.' Madame beside me start up, and whisper to
me, 'If you betray me, you shall die. If you be still, I too will
say nothing.' But then a thing happen. Another voice sound from
below, and there, coming from behind a great screen of oak wood, is
M'sieu' Cournal, his face all red with wine, his hand on his sword.
'Bah!' he say, coming forward--'bah! I will speak for madame. I
will speak. I have been silent long enough.' He come between the
two, and, raising his sword, he strike the time-piece and smash it.
'Ha! ha!' he say, wild with drink, 'I have you both here alone.' He
snap his fingers under the Intendant's nose. 'It is time I protect
my wife's name from you, and by God, I will do it!' At that M'sieu'
Doltaire laugh, and Cournal turn to him, and say, 'Batard!' The
Intendant have out his sword, and he roar in a hoarse voice, 'Dog,
you shall die!' But M'sieu' Doltaire strike up his sword, and face
the drunken man. 'No, leave that to me. The King's cause goes
shipwreck; we can't change helmsman now. Think--scandal and your
disgrace!' Then he make a pass at m'sieu' Cournal, who parry quick.
Another, and he prick his shoulder. Another, and then madame beside
me, as I spring back, throw aside the curtains, and cry out, 'No,
m'sieu'! no! For shame!'
"I kneel in a corner behind the curtains, and wait and listen.
There is not a sound for a moment; then I hear a laugh from M'sieu'
Cournal, such a laugh make me sick--loud, and full of what you call
not care and the devil. Madame speak down at them. 'Ah,' she say,
'it is so fine a sport to drag a woman's name in the mire!' Her
voice is full of spirit. and she look beautiful--beautiful. I never
guess how a woman like that look; so full of pride, and to speak
like you could think knives sing as they strike steel--sharp and
cold. 'I came to see how gentlemen look at play, and they end in
brawling over a lady!'
"M'sieu' Doltaire speak to her, and they all put up their swords,
and M'sieu' Cournal sit down at a table, and he stare and stare
up at the balcony, and make a motion now and then with his
hand. M'sieu' Doltaire say to her, 'Madame, you must excuse
our entertainment; we did not know we had an audience so
distinguished.' She reply, 'As scene-shifter and prompter, M'sieu'
Doltaire, you have a gift. Your Excellency,' she say to the
Intendant, 'I will wait for you at the top of the great staircase,
if you will be so good as to take me to the ballroom.' The
Intendant and M'sieu' Doltaire bow, and turn to the door, and
M'sieu' Cournal scowl, and make as if to follow; but madame speak
down at him, 'M'sieu'--Argand'--like that! and he turn back, and sit
down. I think she forget me, I keep so still. The others bow and
scrape, and leave the room, and the two are alone--alone, for what
am I? What if a dog hear great people speak? No, it is no matter!
"There is all still for a little while, and I watch her face as
she lean over the rail and look down at him; it is like stone, like
stone that aches, and her eyes stare and stare at him. He look up
at her and scowl; then he laugh, with a toss of the finger, and sit
down. All at once he put his hand on his sword, and gnash his teeth.
"Then she speak down to him, her voice ver' quiet. 'Argand,' she
say, 'you are more a man drunk than sober. Argand,' she go on,
'years ago, they said you were a brave man; you fight well, you
do good work for the King, your name goes with a sweet sound to
Versailles. You had only your sword and my poor fortune and me
then--that is all; but you were a man. You had ambition, so had I.
What can a woman do? You had your sword, your country, the King's
service. I had beauty; I wanted power--ah yes, power, that was the
thing! But I was young and a fool; you were older. You talked fine
things then, but you had a base heart, so much baser than mine....
I might have been a good woman. I was a fool, and weak, and vain,
but you were base--so base--coward and betrayer, you!'
"At that m'sieu' start up and snatch at his sword, and speak out
between his teeth, 'By God, I will kill you to-night!' She smile
cold and hard, and say, 'No, no, you will not; it is too late for
killing; that should have been done before. You sold your right to
kill long ago, Argand Cournal. You have been close friends with the
man who gave me power, and you gold.' Then she get fierce. 'Who
gave you gold before he gave me power, traitor?' Like that she
speak. 'Do you never think of what you have lost?' Then she break
out in a laugh. 'Pah! Listen: if there must be killing, why not be
the great Roman--drunk!'
"Then she laugh so hard a laugh, and turn away, and go quick by
me and not see me. She step into the dark, and he sit down in the
chair, and look straight in front of him. I do not stir, and after
a minute she come back sof', and peep down, her face all differen'.
'Argand! Argand!' she say ver' tender and low, 'if--if--if'--like
that. But just then he see the broken watch on the floor, and he
stoop, with a laugh, and pick up the pieces; then he get a candle
and look on the floor everywhere for the jewels, and he pick them
up, and put them away one by one in his purse like a miser. He keep
on looking, and once the fire of the candle burn his beard, and he
swear, and she stare and stare at him. He sit down at the table,
and look at the jewels and laugh to himself. Then she draw herself
up, and shake, and put her hands to her eyes, and 'C'est fini!
c'est fini!' she whisper, and that is all.
"When she is gone, after a little time he change--ah, he change
much, he go to a table and pour out a great bowl of wine, and then
another, and he drink them both, and he begin to walk up and down
the floor. He sway now and then, but he keep on for a long time.
Once a servant come, but he wave him away, and he scowl and talk to
himself, and shut the doors and lock them. Then he walk on and on.
At last he sit down, and he face me. In front of him are candles,
and he stare between them, and stare and stare. I sit and watch,
and I feel a pity. I hear him say, 'Antoinette! Antoinette! My dear
Antoinette! We are lost forever, my Antoinette!' Then he take the
purse from his pocket, and throw it up to the balcony where I am.
'Pretty sins,' he say, 'follow the sinner!' It lie there, and it
have sprung open, and I can see the jewels shine, but I not touch
it--no. Well, he sit there long--long, and his face get gray and
his cheeks all hollow.
"I hear the clock strike one! two! three! four! Once some
one come and try the door, but go away again, and he never stir;
he is like a dead man. At last I fall asleep. When I wake up, he
still sit there, but his head lie in his arms. I look round. Ah,
it is not a fine sight--no. The candles burn so low, and there is
a smell of wick, and the grease runs here and there down the great
candlesticks. Upon the floor, this place and that, is a card, and
pieces of paper, and a scarf, and a broken glass, and something
that shine by a small table. This is a picture in a little gold
frame. On all the tables stand glasses, some full, and some empty of
wine. And just as the dawn come in through the tall windows, a cat
crawl out from somewhere, all ver' thin and shy, and walk across the
floor; it make the room look so much alone. At last it come and move
against m'sieu's legs, and he lift his head and look down at it, and
nod, and say something which I not hear. After that he get up, and
pull himself together with a shake, and walk down the room. Then
he see the little gold picture on the floor which some drunk young
officer drop, and he pick it up and look at it, and walk again.
'Poor fool!' he say, and look at the picture again. 'Poor fool! Will
he curse her some day--a child with a face like that? Ah!' And he
throw the picture down. Then he walk away to the doors, unlock them,
and go out. Soon I steal away through the panels, and out of the
palace ver' quiet, and go home. But I can see that room in my mind."
Again the jailer hurried Voban; There was no excuse for him to
remain longer; so I gave him a message to Alixe, and slipped into
his hand a transcript from my journal. Then he left me, and I sat
and thought upon the strange events of the evening which he had
described to me. That he was bent on mischief I felt sure, but
how it would come, what were his plans, I could not guess. Then
suddenly there flashed into my mind my words to him, "blow us all
to pieces," and his consternation and strange eagerness. It came
to me suddenly: he meant to blow up the Intendance. When? And how?
It seemed absurd to think of it. Yet--yet-- The grim humour of the
thing possessed me, and I sat back and laughed heartily.
In the midst of my mirth the cell door opened and let in Doltaire.