IN WHICH DUBOIS PROVES THAT HIS POLICE WAS BETTER ORGANIZED AT AN
EXPENSE OF 300,000 FRANCS THAN THE GENERAL POLICE FOR THREE MILLIONS.
Whatever might have been the fatigues of the preceding night, the Duc
d'Orleans still gave his mornings to business. He generally began to
work with Dubois before he was dressed; then came a short and select
levee, followed again by audiences, which kept him till eleven or twelve
o'clock; then the chiefs of the councils (La Valliere and Le Blanc) came
to give an account of their espionage, then Torcy, to bring any
important letters which he had abstracted. At half-past two the regent
had his chocolate, which he always took while laughing and chatting.
This lasted half an hour, then came the audience hour for ladies, after
that he went to the Duchesse d'Orleans, then to the young king, whom he
visited every day, and to whom he always displayed the greatest
reverence and respect.
Once a week he received foreign ministers, and on Sundays heard mass in
his private chapel.
At six, on council days, at five on others, all business was over; then
the regent would go to the opera, or to Madame de Berry, with whom,
however, he had quarreled now, on account of her marriage with Riom.
Then came those famous suppers.
They were composed of from ten to fifteen persons, and the regent's
presence among them sometimes added to their license and freedom, but
never restrained it. At these suppers, kings, ministers, chancellors,
ladies of the court, were all passed in review, discussed, abused;
everything might be said, everything told, everything done; provided
only that it were wittily said, told, or done. When all the guests had
arrived, the doors were closed and barred, so that it was impossible to
reach the regent until the following morning, however urgent might be
the necessity.
Dubois was seldom of the number, his bad health forbade it; and this was
the time chosen to pick him to pieces, at which the regent would laugh
as heartily as any one. Dubois knew that he often furnished the
amusement of these suppers, but he also knew that by the morning the
regent invariably forgot what had been said the night before, and so he
cared little about it.
Dubois, however, watched while the regent supped or slept, and seemed
indefatigable; he appeared to have the gift of ubiquity.
When he returned from Rambouillet, he called Maitre Tapin, who had
returned on horseback, and talked with him for an hour, after which he
slept for four or five, then, rising, he presented himself at the door
of his royal highness; the regent was still asleep.
Dubois approached the bed and contemplated him with a smile which at
once resembled that of an ape and a demon.
At length he decided to wake him.
"Hola, monseigneur, wake up!" he cried.
The duke opened his eyes, and seeing Dubois, he turned his face to the
wall, saying--
"Ah! is that you, abbe; go to the devil!"
"Monseigneur, I have just been there, but he was too busy to receive me,
and sent me to you."
"Leave me alone; I am tired."
"I dare say, the night was stormy."
"What do you mean?" asked the duke, turning half round.
"I mean that the way you spent the night does not suit a man who makes
appointments for seven in the morning."
"Did I appoint you for seven in the morning?"
"Yes, yesterday morning, before you went to St. Germains."
"It is true," said the regent.
"Monseigneur did not know that the night would be so fatiguing."
"Fatiguing! I left table at seven."
"And afterward?"
"Well! what afterward?"
"Are you satisfied, monseigneur, and was the young person worth the
journey?"
"What journey?"
"The journey you took after you left the table at seven."
"One would think, to hear you, that from St. Germains here, was a long
distance."
"No, monseigneur is right; it is but a few steps, but there is a method
of prolonging the distance."
"What is that?"
"Going round by Rambouillet."
"You are dreaming, abbe."
"Possibly, monseigneur. I will tell you my dream; it will at least prove
to your highness that even in my dreams I do not forget you."
"Some new nonsense."
"Not at all. I dreamed that monseigneur started the stag at Le
Treillage, and that the animal, after some battling, worthy of a stag of
high birth, was taken at Chambourcy."
"So far, your dream resembles the truth; continue, abbe."
"After which, monseigneur returned to St. Germains, sat down to table at
half-past five, and ordered that the carriage without arms should be
prepared and harnessed, with four horses, at half-past seven."
"Not bad, abbe, not bad; go on."
"At half-past seven, monseigneur dismissed every one except Lafare, with
whom he entered the carriage. Am I right?"
"Go on; go on."
"The carriage went toward Rambouillet, and arrived there at a quarter to
ten, but at the entrance of the town it stopped, Lafare went on in the
carriage to the Tigre-Royal, monseigneur following as an outrider."
"Here your dream becomes confused, abbe."
"No, no, not at all."
"Continue, then."
"Well, while Lafare pretended to eat a bad supper, which was served by
waiters who called him Excellency, monseigneur gave his horse to a page
and went to a little pavilion."
"Demon, where were you hidden?"
"I, monseigneur, have not left the Palais Royal, where I slept like a
dormouse, and the proof is, that I am telling you my dream."
"And what was there in the pavilion?"
"First, at the door, a horrible duenna, tall, thin, dry, and yellow."
"Dubois, I will recommend you to Desroches, and the first time she sees
you, she will tear your eyes out."
"Then inside, mon Dieu! inside."
"You could not see that, even in a dream, abbe."
"Monseigneur, you may take away the 300,000 francs which you allow me
for my secret police, if--by their aid--I did not see into the
interior."
"Well, what did you see?"
"Ma foi, monseigneur, a charming little Bretonne, sixteen or seventeen
years old, beautiful, coming direct from the Augustine convent at
Clisson, accompanied to Rambouillet by one of the sisters, whose
troublesome presence was soon dispensed with, was it not?"
"Dubois, I have often thought you were the devil, who has taken the form
of an abbe to ruin me."
"To save you, monseigneur, to save you."
"To save me; I do not believe it."
"Well," said Dubois, "are you pleased with her?"
"Enchanted, Dubois; she is charming."
"Well, you have brought her from so far, that if she were not, you would
be quite cheated."
The regent frowned, but, reflecting that probably Dubois did not know
the rest, the frown changed to a smile.
"Dubois," said he, "certainly, you are a great man."
"Ah, monseigneur, no one but you doubts it, and yet you disgrace me--"
"Disgrace you!"
"Yes, you hide your loves from me."
"Come, do not be vexed, Dubois."
"There is reason, however, you must confess, monseigneur."
"Why?"
"Why did you not tell me you wanted a Bretonne. Could not I have sent
for one?"
"Yes."
"Yes, of course I could."
"As good?"
"Yes, and better. You think you have found a treasure, perhaps?"
"Hola, hola!"
"Well, when you know what she is, and to what you expose yourself."
"Do not jest, abbe, I beg."
"Ah! monseigneur, you distress me."
"What do you mean?"
"That you are taken by a glance, a single night fascinates you, and
there is no one to compare to the new comer. Is she then very pretty?"
"Charming."
"And discreet: virtue itself, I suppose."
"You are right."
"Well, I tell you, monseigneur, you are lost."
"I?"
"Yes; your Bretonne is a jade."
"Silence, abbe."
"Why silence?"
"I forbid you to say another word."
"Monseigneur, you, too, have had a dream--let me explain it."
"Monsieur Joseph, I will send you to the Bastille."
"As you please, monseigneur, but still you must know that this girl--"
"Is my daughter, abbe."
Dubois drew back stupefied.
"Your daughter; and who is her mother?"
"An honest woman, who had the honor of dying without knowing you."
"And the child?"
"The child has been concealed, that she might not be sullied by the
looks of such creatures as you."
Dubois bowed, and retired, respectfully.
The regent looked triumphant.
"Ah!" said Dubois, who had not quite closed the door, "I thought this
plot would bring me my archbishop's miter--if I am careful, it will
bring me my cardinal's hat."