THE COUNTESS OF BEARN.
A hackney coach stopping at the doorway of Chancellor Maupeou,
president of Parliament, induced the porter to deign to stalk out to
the door of the vehicle and see why the way was thus blocked.
He saw an old lady in an antiquated costume. She was thin and bony but
active, with cat's eyes rolling under gray brows. But poverty stricken
though she appeared, the porter showed respect as he asked her name.
"I am the Countess of Bearn," she replied; "but I fear that I shall not
have the fortune to find his lordship at home."
"My lord is receiving," answered the janitor. "That is, he will receive
your ladyship."
The old lady stepped out of the carriage, wondering if she did not
dream, while the porter gave two jerks to a bellrope. An usher came to
the portals, where the first servant motioned that the visitor might
enter.
"If your ladyship desires speech with the lord high chancellor," said
the usher, "step this way, please."
"They do speak ill of this official," uttered the lady; "but he has the
good trait that he is easily accessible. But it is strange that so high
an officer of the law should have open doors."
Chancellor Maupeou, buried in an enormous wig and clad in black velvet,
was writing in his study, where the door was open.
On entering, the old countess threw a rapid glance around, but to her
surprise there was no other face than hers and that of the law lord,
thin, yellow and busy, reflected in the mirrors.
He rose in one piece and placed himself with his back to the fireplace.
The lady made the three courtesies according to rule.
Her little compliment was rather unsteady; she had not expected the
honor; she never could have believed that a cabinet minister would give
her some time out of his business or his repose.
Maupeou replied that time was no less precious to subject than his
majesty's ministers, although preference had to be given to persons
with urgent affairs, consequently, he gave what leisure he had to such
clients.
"My lord," said the old lady, with fresh courtesies, "I beg most humbly
to speak to your excellency of a grave matter on which depends my
fortune. You know that my all depends, or rather my son's, on the case
sustained by me against the Saluces family. You are a friend of that
family, but your lordship's equity is so well known that I have not
hesitated to apply to you."
The chancellor was fondling his chin, but he could not help a smile to
hear his fair play extolled.
"My lady, you are right in calling me friend of the Saluces; but I laid
aside friendship when I took the seals of office up. I look into your
business simply as a juris consultus. The case is soon coming on?"
"In another week I should beg your lordship to look over my papers."
"I have done so already."
"Oh! What do you think of it?"
"I beg to say that you ought to be prepared to go home and get the
money together to pay the costs--for you will infallibly lose the case."
"Then my son and I are ruined!"
"Unless you have friends at court to counterbalance the influence of
the Saluces brothers, who are linked with three parts of the courtiers.
In fact, I know not if they have an enemy."
"I am sorry to hear your Excellency say this."
"I am sorry to say so, for I really wanted to be useful to your
ladyship."
The countess shuddered at the tone of feigned kindness, for she seemed
to catch a glimpse of something dark in the mind, if not the speech of
the chancellor; if that obscurity could be swept away she fancied she
would see something favorable to her.
"Do you know nobody at court?" he insisted.
"Only some old noblemen, probably retired, who would blush to see their
old friend so poor. I have my right of entry to the palace, but what is
the good? Better to have the right to enter into enjoyment of my two
hundred thousand livres. Work that miracle, my lord."
"Judges cannot be led astray by private influence," he said, forgetting
that he was contradicting himself. "Why not, however, apply to the
new powers, eager to make recruits? You must have known the royal
princesses?"
"They have grown out of remembrance."
"The prince royal?"
"I never knew him."
"Besides, he is dwelling too much on his bride, who is on the road
hither, to do any one a good turn. Oh! why not address the favorites?"
"The Duke of Choiseul?"
"No, the other, the Countess----"
"Dubarry?" said the prude, opening her fan.
"Yes, she is goodhearted and she likes to do kindnesses to her friends."
"I am of too old a line for her to like me."
"That is where you are wrong; for she is trying to ally herself with
the old families."
"But I have never seen her."
"What a pity! Or her sister, Chon, the other sister Bischi, her brother
Jean, or her negro boy Zamore?"
"What! is her negro a power at court?"
"Indeed he is."
"A black who looks like a pug dog, for they sell his picture in the
streets. How was I to meet this blackamoor, my lord?" and the dame drew
herself up, offended.
"It is a pity you did not, for Zamore would win your suit for you. Ask
the dukes and peers of the realm who take candies to him at Marly or
Luciennes. I am the lord high chancellor, but what do you think I was
about when your ladyship called? Drawing up the instructions for him as
governor of Luciennes, to which Zamore has been appointed."
"The Count of Bearn was recompensed for his services of twenty years
with merely the same title. What degradation! Is the monarchy indeed
going to the dogs?" cried the indignant lady.
"I do not know about the government, but the crumbs are going to them,
and, faith! we must scramble among them to get the tidbits away from
them. If you wanted to be welcomed by Lady Dubarry, you could not do
better than carry these papers for her pet to her."
"It is plain that fate is against me; for, though your lordship has
kindly greeted me, the next step is out of the question. Not only
am I to pay court to a Dubarry, but I must carry her negro-boy's
appointment--a black whom I would not have deigned to kick out of my
way on the street----"
Suddenly the usher interrupted:
"Viscount Jean Dubarry."
The chancellor dropped his hands in stupor, while the old petitioner
sank back in an armchair without pulse or breath.
Our old acquaintance pranced in, with his arm in a sling:
"Oh, engaged? Pray, do not disturb yourself, my lady; I want only
a couple of minutes to make a complaint, a couple of his precious
minutes. They have tried to murder me! I did not mind their making fun
at us, singing lewd ballads, slandering and libeling us; but it is too
much of a vile thing to waylay and murder. But I am interrupting the
lady."
"This is the Countess of Bearn," said the chancellor.
Dubarry drew back gracefully to make a proper bow, and the lady did the
same for her courtesy, and they saluted as ceremoniously as though they
had been in court.
"After you, viscount," she said; "my case is about property; yours
about honor, and so takes the lead."
Profiting by her obligingness Dubarry unfolded his complaint.
"You will want witnesses on your side," observed the chancellor.
"That is awkward, for everybody there seems to be on the other side."
"Not everybody," interrupted the countess, "for if the affray was the
one that happened in Chaussee village, I can be your witness. I came
through there a couple of hours after, and all were talking of it!"
"Have a care, my lady," said the viscount; "for if you speak in my
favor, you will make an enemy of Choiseul."
"She ought to lean on your arm, then; though one is wounded, it will
soon be healed, and the other is still formidable," said the law lord,
while the old dame rolled from one gulf into another.
"Ah, but I know another, whose arms are perfect," said Jean, merrily;
"and service for service, she will offer your ladyship hers. I am going
straight to my sister, and I offer you a seat in my carriage."
"But without motive, without preparations," faltered the countess.
"Here is your excuse," whispered Maupeou, slipping Zamore's
governmental instructions into her sallow, wrinkled hand.
"My lord chancellor, you are my deliverer," she gasped. "And the
viscount is the flower of the chivalry."
Indeed, a splendid coach in the royal colors was waiting at the doors.
The countess placed herself in it, swelling with pride. Jean entered
likewise, and gave the word for the departure.
In her joy at this smooth sailing, the countess forgot that she had
wanted to lay a private complaint before the chancellor as head of the
legal fraternity.
It may be remembered that Chon had decoyed her into traveling to Paris
by pretending to be the daughter of her lawyer Flageot.
What was her amazement, therefore, on calling on that gentleman,
to learn that not only was he a bachelor without a daughter, but
that he had no good news to impart to her on her suit. Burning with
disappointment, she had sought a remedy against this lawyer or this
woman who had hoaxed her.