A MISSION OF PEACE
"Now that we have the blessing of God we may go on," said Louis, biting
his fingernails so closely that the beginnings of what he had next to
say were mumbled through a hand upon his mouth. As words they were
smooth enough, but when I remembered the King's reply to Monseigneur
upon the very altar step the threat behind the flattery could not be
ignored. "I am going to trust you, Monsieur de Helville, even as I
trust the worthy priest who serves me and the Church at the altar
behind us. It is enough for common men that they look no farther than
to-morrow or next year, but nations live by generations, and we who
think for France must think in tens of years. We have prayed for
peace, but through a little seven years' child in Navarre there is a
menace." He paused, slipping a level hand up to shroud his eyes, and
watched me keenly. But this time Monsieur de Commines' lesson had been
better learned and I made no reply. My wisdom was to let the King's
meaning unfold itself beyond doubt. Apparently I stood the test to his
satisfaction, for he went on, suavely--
"Your outburst of the other day, Monsieur de Helville was very natural,
very much to your credit, and though the shame of your most unworthy
suspicion nearly cost me my life, you are pardoned. Listen now. Spain
is tangled in Italy, and with all her will to trouble France she has
not the power; the princes of Italy, Sforza, Visconti, Medici, Este,
and a dozen other pigmies, are my friends; James of Scotland and John
of Portugal are my close allies; England," and he snapped his fingers
contemptuously, "England is a muzzled dog; Austria stands upon its
mercenaries, and my pay is better than Maximilian's. Only little
Navarre is left, and through my niece, Queen Catherine, half Navarre is
already mine. Have you ever had a cinder in your eye, Monsieur de
Helville? a speck almost too petty to be seen, and yet it frets, and
frets, and frets? That miserable half of little Navarre is the petty
speck in the eye of France, and Gaston de Foix, the seven years' son of
the Count of Narbonne, is the edge that frets and frets and frets."
Again he paused, and this time I was fool enough to speak.
"I do not understand, Sire, how so young a child----"
"God's name, man, who bid you understand? I said, Listen! And will
not the child grow? and is he not in collateral line for the crown?
The father is past middle age and spent, but the child will become the
man, and through that miserable half of Navarre there will be a way
open for Spain to strike France twenty years hence. Who knows what
feeble brain may govern France when that day comes? I--I--I can hardly
hope--D'Argenton! my cordial; quick--quick--um--um--um--there! that is
past."
He sat back in his chair, very white and breathing heavily, while from
a wide-mouthed crystal he sucked loudly and with evident satisfaction,
long sips of a yellowish fluid.
"Let the rest wait till to-morrow, Sire," said Commines, who bent over
him.
But if Louis did not spare his servants neither did he spare himself.
"Will to-morrow be less full than to-day? Besides, I am in a fever
until this question of Navarre is settled. We must have the child,
Monsieur de Helville."
"How, Sire?"
"Do you hear him, d'Argenton? What kind of a tool is this you have put
into my hand, with his hows and whys and buts? How? Do I care how!
That is your business. There are a dozen ways, all safe, all sure.
Oh, it is the curse of life to have a brain to think and yet be forced
to leave the execution to--to--blundering hands. How? Steal him if
you like! Next you will ask--you who are so nice and have such
charitable thoughts of your King--you will ask, Why? Well, I shall
tell you, Monsieur, I shall tell you. Even your scruples will admit
the scheme is a worthy one. If France educates the child, France
educates him for a friend, France shows him that his interests are
French, not Spanish, and so we hold Navarre on both frontiers and may
be at peace. The mind of a child of seven is wax, is wax; and to win a
child's love is not difficult. This time I ask you, Do you understand?"
"I understand, Sire, that by fair means or--or----"
"Yes, say it, or by foul! How he chokes over it, d'Argenton. Do you
truly think him fit for the work?"
"I warrant Monsieur de Helville to be brave, your Majesty, to be
prompt, to be devoted, and to be no fool."
"Devoted?" Louis fastened on the word like a starved rat on a bone.
"Yes, but to himself or to me? To his own interests or to mine?"
"To you, Sire, to you."
"Ay! he had better. I have his oath, and I'll have the girl; yes, and
I would have him too, if he played me false, have him though I bribed
every court in Europe to find him."
"Sire, Sire, you mistake your man," cried Monseigneur, his voice full
of a generous indignation. "Threats----"
"But there are promises, too, d'Argenton, promises and rewards. First,
let come what may, you shall face Jan Meert; that I set my word to.
Were I a man of your inches, Monsieur de Helville, and of that courage
for which your patron vouches, I would ask nothing better than that in
my own private quarrel. Next, fulfil to the letter the instructions I
shall give you and I will not only build you a new Solignac, greater
than the first, but for the lands of Hellewyl you shall have double, no
matter whether Burgundy, France, or The Empire holds them; to that also
I set my word. Talmont, am I a niggard to those who serve me? You
know I am not. You came to me with empty hands and now, if every
finger were a palm, they would be overflowing. Well, Monsieur, are you
satisfied? At one stroke you bring peace to a nation, vengeance to
yourself, wealth to your race. Does your oath hold?"
The extraordinary winning powers of the man, the sudden sweetness of
tone, the softened kindliness, the generous manner, the vibration of
pleading in the voice, swept me from my feet rather than the
prodigality of the promises. Nor was it a new thing that a prince
should be brought up at a foreign court as a pledge of peace. The
novelty was in the method of securing the prince's person, and that,
weighed against the advantages, did not trouble me much.
"I'll do it, Sire, I'll do it, though there should be twenty Counts of
Narbonne to say No! Nor will there be time lost on the road. Once I
have the boy I shall make straight for Plessis----?
"Tse! Tse!" hissed Louis between his teeth, while he wagged a finger
hastily at me. "No, no, you go too fast. Who bade you make straight
for Plessis? The hand of France must not appear in this affair at all."
"But, Sire, my credentials?"
"Credentials? What? Parchments with a King's seal and countersign to
certify you have the authority of France to go a-thieving? Why not ask
for the oriflamme at once! By the splendour of God! d'Argenton, but
the fellow thinks himself an ambassador plenipotentiary at the very
least! Credentials! Authority under my hand to abduct Gaston de Foix!
Do you take me for a fool, Monsieur?"
"Then, Sire," said I bluntly, "if I am caught, I hang."
"Ah!" answered Louis unctuously, and patting a saint's figure haphazard
as he spoke, "All is as God wills, and surely it is as honourable to
die for peace as to die in war?"
"Then, Sire, having secured the boy?"
"Having, with the blessing of God, secured the boy, Monsieur de
Helville, you will then--where is the letter I bade Rochfort seal with
your signet, d'Argenton? It should be amongst the papers on the table."
"With my signet?" answered Monseigneur uneasily, "I have no
knowledge--the Chancellor did not convey to me--that is, I had not
heard----"
"No, no; there was no need you should. Ah! here it is," and Louis,
pushing aside some parchments which I do not doubt he had placed where
they lay that they might conceal the folded paper he now drew towards
him with the tips of his claws, lifted an oblong letter sealed broadly
upon the back, and tied with silk, "Rochfort prepared it for me. Write
your name across the corner, my friend, if you please. Since Monsieur
desires credentials, this will serve him. So! your hand shakes, de
Talmont, why is that? Now, Monsieur de Helville, attend; once, by
God's grace you have secured the boy, open this and do what it bids
you. That is all; d'Argenton, take him away and give him what he will
need. Credentials! there are your credentials, money, money, and again
money! What man of the world asks for finer credentials? Tell him the
route too, as he travels it he will learn now far the arm of France can
stretch whether to succour or to strike."
Pushing himself to his feet, stiffly and with evident pain, Louis
turned towards the altar behind him and bowed humbly, crossing his
breast repeatedly, then faced again towards me.
"The God of peace go with you, Monsieur de Helville, and at all times
and in all acts remember Him you serve. Ay, ay," he went on, his voice
hardening, "and remember, too, your Brigitta of the white limbs and red
mouth, for, by the same God, I'll not forget her or you."
The last I saw of him was a bowed, half-crouched figure, a grey-pale
face looking out from between bent shoulders, and a lean hand shaken
shrewishly in the air.
I was to remember whom I served! Did he mean God or himself? For all
his assumption of servile religiosity, I doubted if Louis set even the
seat of the Almighty higher than the throne of France.