CHAPTER X.

MONSIEUR JACQUES IS INTRUSTED WITH A DELICATE MISSION.

As Count de Mirabeau uttered these last words, Monsieur Jacques arose

from his chair, and came close to his foster-brother.

“Mirabeau,” he said, laying a hand on the count’s shoulder, and speaking

with deep earnestness, “forget this girl. Spare her for my sake.”

Mirabeau wheeled round in his chair, and gazed upon the man in laughing

astonishment. His great head was thrown back, his eyes danced with

merriment.

“What! You, Jacques—you in love with that pretty rustic—really, truly?

Do tell me how it happened! Why, man, how improbable!”

“No,” said Monsieur Jacques, humbly enough, “love is so far apart from

me, and so natural to you; but what man ever knows what destiny has in

store for him. I saw her so sweet, so gentle, given up to sorrow, which

she bore patiently, and, spite of myself, she became dear to me as my

own life.”

“And does she know this?”

“Not for the world! I should drop with very shame at her feet if she but

guessed it.”

“I dare say,” answered Mirabeau, with cruel sincerity. “So dainty a

creature as that might well be astonished. Why, man, I, myself, was half

in love with her.”

“I saw it.”

“And now you warn me off the chase.”

“I say to you only this. The foster-brother, who loves you better than

himself, has but one thing on this earth that he would withhold from

you, this single, forlorn hope of affection. Will you trample it under

foot—you who have but to smile, and the best beauty and brightest wit of

the land render the homage you scarcely deign to accept?”

“Ah! that is because they do render it. Can’t you remember, Jacques,

that, as a boy, I would never stoop to pick up the ripest and mellowest

fruit that fell to my feet; but was ever up in the topmost branches of

the tree, risking my neck for that which could only be got with

difficulty. It is my nature, man, and I cannot help it. Now pray

comprehend that in placing this interdict, which leaves all to my honor

and brotherly affection, you lift the fruit to the very topmost bough,

where I shall be forever tempted to climb for it.”

“But, for my sake.”

“Ay! in your behalf, I will make a brave effort to be good. It is asking

a great deal, and I am no saint; but then I am in no haste to give that

proud old man, who is waiting for me, a daughter-in-law who is neither

of the court or the people. So we will talk no more of this pretty

Marguerite, but let her fly, as we sometimes sent the birds we had

snared back to their native woods in the pure wantonness of benevolence.

Sometimes we would gladly have got them back, you know, Jacques, but the

little wretches would not come. Give me my hat, man; do you know that we

are keeping the proudest old man in France waiting?”

Jacques took up the hat which Mirabeau had flung to the floor when he

sat down. The count received it lazily, and putting a finger on two of

the triangular points, began to twirl it between his hands. He certainly

did not seem to be much distressed at keeping his father in suspense.

“Jacques,” he said, after a few moments’ silence, “Have you seen the old

gentleman?”

“Only for a moment.”

“Did he speak of—— Well, we may as well be frank. Did he mention

finances? Has he an idea of the trouble his close-fisted parsimony has

brought on me—of the shifts and arrangements I am constantly compelled

to make?”

“How can he help knowing it, monsieur count? A man of good family cannot

live on air; and what else has he provided for a son that—I must say

it—is the glory of his house?”

“Not much, Jacques—certainly, not much; but more perhaps, than you know

of. Still, he comes in good time, for I am fairly at my wits’ end for

means. Can you manage to let him know this, and impress upon him the

necessity of a liberal supply? Tell him of the great popularity you are

so confident of. Hint to him that I have had advances from the court,

and only need a little persuasion to carry me over, body and soul, which

will end in a thorough reconciliation between the people and the king.

In short, Jacques, you know what to say, and you know the man. It will

not be the first time you have done me good service with him.”

“Nor shall it be the last, by a thousand, if I can help it,” answered

Jacques, delighted with his mission. “God grant that what I say proves

true! Then, indeed, you will be the saviour of this unhappy country!”

“Well, well! you understand my wishes, and will know how to carry them

out. I have sworn never to ask my father for another sous on earth—and I

never will; but my oath does not reach you, brother Jacques. The old man

is a staunch royalist, and would do much for Louis. When he knows how I

stand between the court and the people, powerful with both, he will

forget past extravagance, and come forward to sustain the honor of his

house.”

“I will put the case before him in this light; I will tell him all that

he ought to know. Even now an agent of the queen is seeking you.”

“Ha! Where did you learn this?” cried Mirabeau, flushing scarlet with

sudden astonishment and delight.

“The agent came to me.”

“When?”

“Only this morning.”

“Well, well!”

“He talked cautiously at first; spoke of your power with the people—your

eloquence.”

“Yes, yes; I understand that—the usual sugared flattery. But come to the

essence of the matter. What did he want?”

“He wanted your influence in behalf of the court; and he spoke of

money.”

Mirabeau felt the hot blood leap to his face again; and with an angry

gesture he dashed the hat from his hand.

“They know how poor I am; they feel that I can be bribed. This proud

queen does not offer me her confidence, but money. Ah! this stings me!

It is an insult; but one which I dare not resent. Oh, Jacques! this

poverty breeds a nest of temptations. To want money is to be a slave.”

Mirabeau seized his hat, dashed it on his head, and left the room,

walking away so fiercely, that his footsteps sounded back from the

flights of stairs, like the tramp of a dragoon.

Monsieur Jacques listened till the footsteps died away in the street,

then he sat down, with tears in his eyes, muttering,

“Ah! what a grand nature he has! Yet a moment may shipwreck him forever.

Yes! forever and ever!”

Palaces and prisons · 第 10 / 96 章