HIS EXCELLENCY THE DUC D'ORLEANS.
Dubois, on leaving the chevalier, contemplated the chance which had
again placed in his hands the future of the regent and of France. In
crossing the hall he recognized L'Eveille, and signed to him to follow.
It was L'Eveille who had undertaken to get the real La Jonquiere out of
the way. Dubois became thoughtful: the easiest part of the affair was
done; it now remained to persuade the regent to put himself in a kind of
affair which he held in the utmost horror--the maneuvering of intrigue.
Dubois began by asking where the regent was, and how occupied? The
prince was in his studio, finishing an etching commenced by Hubert, the
chemist, who, at an adjoining table, was occupied in embalming an ibis,
by the Egyptian method, which he professed to have recovered.
A secretary was reading some letters to the regent.
All at once, to the regent's astonishment--for this was his sanctum--the
door opened, and an usher announced Captain la Jonquiere.
The regent turned.
"La Jonquiere?" said he; "who is this?"
Hubert looked surprised that a stranger should be thus unceremoniously
intruded on their privacy.
At this moment a long-pointed head appeared at the open door.
The regent did not, at first, recognize Dubois in his disguise: but
shortly, the pointed nose, which had not its match in the kingdom,
betrayed him.
A merry look took the place of the astonishment which the regent's
features had at first displayed.
"Ah, it is you, abbe!" said his highness, laughing, "and what is the
meaning of this disguise?"
"It means that I have changed my skin, and from a fox have turned into a
lion; and now Monsieur the Chemist and Monsieur the Secretary, do me the
favor to take your bird and letters elsewhere."
"Why so?" asked the regent.
"Because I have important business to speak of with you."
"Go to the devil with your important business; it is too late: come
to-morrow."
"Monseigneur," said Dubois, "do not force me to remain till to-morrow in
this villainous disguise."
"Do what you please, but I have decided that the rest of this day shall
be given to pleasure."
"Well, I come to propose a disguise to you also."
"A disguise! what do you mean, Dubois?" asked the regent, who thought it
was probably one of his ordinary masquerades.
"Ah, it makes your mouth water, Monsieur Alain."
"Speak; what do you want to do?"
"First send away your chemist and secretary."
"You still wish it?"----"Decidedly."
"Very well, then."
The regent signed to them to leave: they did so.
"And now," said he, "what is it?"
"I want to present to you, monseigneur, a young man, a very delightful
fellow, just arrived from Bretagne, and strongly recommended to me."
"His name?"
"The Chevalier Gaston de Chanlay."
"De Chanlay!" said the regent, "the name is not unknown to me."
"Indeed."
"Yes, I think I have heard it formerly; but I do not remember where or
how. What does your protege come to Paris for?"
"Monseigneur, I shall leave him to tell you that himself."
"Tell it to me."
"Yes; that is to say, to the Duc d'Olivares, whom you are about to
personate. Ah, my protege is a discreet conspirator, and I have had some
trouble to get at the truth of things. He was addressed to Paris, to a
certain La Jonquiere, who was to present him to the Duc d'Olivares. Do
you understand now?"
"Not at all."
"Well, I have been Captain la Jonquiere, but I cannot be both La
Jonquiere and his excellency."
"So, you reserve that part--"
"For you, monseigneur."
"Thank you. So you think that, under a false name, I will get at the
secrets--"
"Of your enemies, monseigneur," interrupted Dubois. "Pardieu! what a
dreadful crime, and how it would distress you, to change name and dress;
you have never before learned secrets by such means. But remember,
monseigneur, our many disguises, and after being called M. Alain and
Maitre Jean, you may well, I think, without anything derogatory to your
dignity, be called Le Duc d'Olivares."
"I ask no better than a disguise for amusement, but--"
"But a disguise," continued Dubois, "to preserve the peace of France, to
prevent traitors from overthrowing the kingdom, to prevent assassins
from murdering you--this, I suppose, is unworthy of you. I understand;
ah, if it were only in pursuit of some little ironmongress in the Pont
Neuf, or the pretty widow of the Rue Saint Augustine, it might be worth
your while."
"If I do what you wish," said the regent, "what will be the result?"
"Probably, that you will own that I am no visionary, and that you will
allow others to watch over you, since you will not watch over yourself."
"But, once for all, if the thing turns out not worth the trouble, shall
I be freed from your worrying?"
"I promise you, on my honor."
"Abbe, if you have no objection, I should prefer another oath."
"Oh, monseigneur, you are too hard; but you consent?"
"Again this folly."
"You shall see if it be folly."
"I believe you make plots to frighten me."
"Then they are well made; you shall see."
"Are you certain?"
"Absolutely."
"If I am not frightened, look to yourself."
"Monseigneur exacts too much."
"You are not sure, Dubois."
"I swear to you, monsieur, that you will be moved, and will be glad to
speak with his excellency's tongue."
And Dubois went out before the regent had time to withdraw his consent.
Five minutes after, a courier entered the antechamber, and gave a letter
to a page, who brought it to the regent.
"Madame Desroches," said he, looking at the writing, and, breaking the
seal, read as follows:
"MONSEIGNEUR--The young lady you left in my charge does
not appear to be in safety here."
"Bah," exclaimed the regent, and then read on--
"The residence in the town, which your highness feared
for her, would be a hundred times better than
isolation; and I do not feel strong enough to defend
her as I would wish, and as I ought."
"Ouais," said the regent, "it seems something is the matter."
"A young man, who had written to Mademoiselle Helene
shortly before your arrival yesterday, presented
himself this morning at the pavilion; I wished to
refuse him admittance, but mademoiselle so peremptorily
ordered me to admit him, and to retire, that in her
look and tone I recognized the blood which commands."
"Yes, yes," said the regent, "she is, indeed, my daughter; but who can
this young man be? Some coxcomb she must have seen in the convent
parlor." Then he read on:
"I believe, monseigneur, that this young man and
mademoiselle have met before. I did not think it wrong
to listen, for your highness's service, and in spite of
the double door I once heard him say, 'To see you as
formerly.' Will your royal highness secure me against
this danger, and send me a written order which I can
use to shelter myself from the anger of mademoiselle."
"Diable!" exclaimed the regent, "it cannot be a love affair already;
brought up in the only convent in France where men never pass the
parlor. No, it is some foolish fear of Madame Desroches; but let us see
what else she writes."
"P. S.--I have just been to the hotel Tigre-Royal for
information. The young man arrived yesterday evening at
seven o'clock, just three-quarters of an hour before
mademoiselle; he came by the Bretagne road, that is,
the road she also came. He travels under the name of M.
de Livry."
"Oh!" said the regent, "this looks like a concerted plan. Pardieu!
Dubois would laugh if he knew this; how he would talk! It is to be hoped
he knows nothing of it, in spite of his police. Hola! page."
The page who had brought the letter entered.
"Where is the messenger from Rambouillet?"
"He is waiting for an answer."
"Give him this, and tell him to start at once."
As to Dubois, while preparing the interview between Gaston and the false
duke, he made the following calculation.
"I hold the regent both by himself and his daughter. This intrigue of
his is either serious or not; if it be not, I distress her in
exaggerating it. If it be serious, I have the merit of having discovered
it; but I must not strike both blows at once. First, I must save the
duke, then his daughter, and there will be two rewards.--Is that the
best?--Yes--the duke first--if a young girl falls, no one suffers, if a
man falls, a kingdom is lost, let us begin with the duke." And Dubois
dispatched a courier to M. de Montaran at Nantes.
M. de Montaran was, as we have said, the ancient governor of Bretagne.
As to Gaston, his plan was fixed. Ashamed of being associated with a man
like Jonquiere, he congratulated himself that he was now to communicate
with the chief of the enterprise, and resolved, if he also appeared base
and venial, to return and take counsel with his friends at Nantes. As to
Helene, he doubted not; he knew her courage and her love, and that she
would die rather than have to blush before her dearest friend. He saw
with joy that the happiness of finding a father did not lead her to
forget the past, but still he had his fears as to this mysterious
paternity; even a king would own such a daughter, were there not some
disgraceful obstacle.
Gaston dressed himself carefully; there is a coquetry in danger as well
as in pleasure, and he embellished his youth with every advantage of
costume.
The regent, by Dubois's advice, dressed in black velvet and half hid
his face in an immense cravat of Mechlin lace.
The interview was to take place in a house belonging to the regent, in
the Faubourg Saint Germain: he arrived there at five o'clock, as night
was falling.