THE KEEPER OF THE ROYAL CONSCIENCE.
Richelieu, thoroughly exasperated, determined to crush the girl who
had dared to brave him. He called to his aid his creature Chavigny.
Chavigny was intriguing, acute, and superficial; an admirable tool—for
he originated nothing. Years ago he had sold himself to Richelieu, but
as he always went out of his way to abuse him, the connection was not
suspected. Under the direction of the Cardinal, he had entirely gained
the King's confidence. His easy good-nature encouraged the shy Louis to
tell him all his secrets, and to consult him in all his difficulties.
Chavigny, who up to this time had attached little importance to the
King's inclination for the new maid of honour, looking upon it simply
as a passing admiration for an attractive girl, too inexperienced
to take advantage of his favour, upon being questioned, informed
Richelieu that the King wrote to her daily, and that she replied as
often. Richelieu at once resolved on his course of action. He would in
future see the correspondence himself. Each letter was to be skilfully
unsealed by his secretary, Desmaret, and read, before it was delivered.
It was not possible for even the hard, stern Richelieu to peruse these
letters unmoved. He had been once young and passionate himself. He
could not but appreciate the delicacy and eloquence with which the King
veiled his passion, and softened intense love into the semblance of
friendship. Nor could he avoid feeling some admiration for the sweet
and simple nature that breathed in every line written by the maid of
honour. Both were evidently ignorant of the ardour of their mutual
attachment. What was to be done? He must consult the King's confessor.
Father Caussin, a Jesuit, had been only nine months confessor to the
King. He was learned, conscientious, and guileless. Richelieu had
selected him for this important post in the belief that he would
assume no political influence over his royal penitent. The General of
the order had objected to his appointment on the same grounds. In
person Caussin was tall and spare. His long black cassock hung about
his thin figure in heavy folds. His face was pale and emaciated. Yet
a kindly smile played about his mouth, and his black eyes beamed with
benevolence. Such was the ecclesiastic who seated himself opposite to
Richelieu.
"My father," said the Cardinal, saluting him stiffly, and leaning
forward and laying his hands on some papers placed beside him on a
table, as though they related to what he was about to say.—"I have
summoned you on a very grave matter." Nothing could be more solemn
than the Cardinal's voice and manner. The pleasant smile faded at once
out of the confessor's face. He became as grave, if not as stern as
the Cardinal, leant his head upon his bony hand, and turned his eyes
intently upon him. "Circumstances have come to my knowledge," continued
Richelieu, "which, in my opinion, justify me in asking you a very
searching question." Caussin moved uneasily, and in a somewhat troubled
manner interrupted him.
"Your Eminence will not, I trust, desire to trench upon the privacy of
my office,—for in that case I could not satisfy you."
Richelieu waved his hand impatiently, placed one knee over the other
with great deliberation, and leant back in his chair. "My father, I am
surprised at your insinuation. We are both Churchmen, and, I presume,
understand our respective duties. The question that I would ask is one
to which you may freely reply. Does it appear to you that his Majesty
has of late shown indifference in his spiritual duties?" Caussin drew
a long breath, and, though relieved, was evidently unwilling to answer.
"Pardon me, my father," again spoke the Cardinal, a slight tone of
asperity perceptible in his mellow voice, "I ask you this question
entirely in the interest of the holy order to which you belong.
Many benefices have fallen vacant lately, and it is possible,—it is
_possible_, I repeat, that I may advise his Majesty to fill up some
of them from the ranks of the Company of Jesus." His half-closed eyes
rested significantly on Father Caussin as he said these words.
Caussin listened unmoved. "There are, doubtless," said he, "many
members of our order who would do honor to your selection, Cardinal.
For myself, I should want no preferment;—indeed, I should decline it."
He spoke with the frankness of perfect sincerity.
Richelieu looked down, and worked the points of his fingers impatiently
on the table. His hands were singularly white and shapely, with taper
fingers. As a young man he had loved to display them; the habit had
remained with him when he was thoughtful or annoyed. "Well, my father,"
said he, "your answer?"
Caussin eyed the Cardinal suspiciously,—"I am happy to reassure your
Eminence; his Majesty is, as usual, in the most pious sentiments."
"Hum!—that is strange, very strange; I fear that the benevolence of
your nature, my father—" Caussin drew himself up, and a look as much
approaching defiance as it was possible for him to assume passed into
his pleasant face. Richelieu did not finish the offensive sentence.
"It is strange," he went on to say, "for I have reason to _know_—I ask
you for no information, reverend father—that his Majesty's feelings
are engaged in a mundane passion which, if encouraged, may lead him
from those precepts and exercises in which he has hitherto lived in
obedience to the Church."
"To what passion do you allude?" asked Caussin cautiously.
"To the infatuation his Majesty evinces for the new maid of honour,
Louise de Lafayette. The lady is self-willed and romantic. She may lead
him into deadly sin."
Caussin started. "I apprehend nothing of the kind," replied he drily.
"True, my father, but that is a matter of opinion. I think differently.
Absolution, after repentance," continued the Cardinal pompously,
"may wash out even crime, but it is for us,—you, his Majesty's
confessor, and I, his minister, both faithful servants of the Holy
Father,"—Caussin looked hard at the Cardinal, who was by no means
considered orthodox at Rome,—"it is for us to guard him from even the
semblance of evil. I have sent for you, my father, to assist me in
placing Louise de Lafayette in a convent. It will be at least a measure
of precaution. I shall require all your help, my father; will you
give it me?" Richelieu, as he asked this important question, narrowly
observed Caussin from under his drooping eyelids. The confessor was
evidently embarrassed. His kindly countenance was troubled; and he was
some time in answering.
"To dedicate a young and pure soul to God," he replied, at length,
with evident hesitation, "is truly an acceptable work; but has your
Eminence considered that the lady in question is of the most blameless
life, and that by her example and influence his Majesty may be kept
in that path of obedience and faith which some other attachment might
not insure?" As he asked this question Caussin leaned forwards towards
Richelieu, speaking earnestly.
"Father Caussin," said the Cardinal, in his hardest manner, and
motioning with his hand as though commanding special attention, "we
must look in this matter beyond his Majesty's feelings. I have good
reason for alarm. A crisis is impending," and he turned again to
the papers lying on the table with a significant air. "If Louise
de Lafayette has any vocation, let her be advised to encourage it.
Consider in what manner you can best bend the King's will to comply.
You tell me the lady is a good Catholic; I rejoice to hear it. She
comes of a family of heretics. She may be sincere, though I much
doubt it. At all events, she must be removed; simply as a matter of
precaution, my father, I repeat, she must be removed. Let me beg you
to consult the General of your order upon this matter immediately.
Understand me, I am advising this simply as a matter of precaution,
nothing more." All this time Caussin had listened intently to the
Cardinal. The troubled look on his face had deepened into one of
infinite sadness. His brow was knit, but there were doubt and
hesitation in his manner.
"I can only consent to assist your Eminence," he replied, in a low
voice, after some moments of deep thought, "on the condition that the
lady herself freely consents. I can permit no violence to be done to
her inclinations, nor to the will of his Majesty. If the lady is ready
to offer up herself to the Church through my means, it will doubtless
redound to the credit of our order; but she shall not be forced."
"Certainly not, certainly not," interposed Richelieu, in a much more
affable tone. "I do not know why your reverence should start such a
supposition."
"I will consult our General, Cardinal," continued Caussin; "but I am
bound to say that the influence the lady has hitherto exercised has
been most legitimate, most orthodox, altogether in favour of our order,
to which she is devoted, and of the Church. She is a most pious lady."
"All the more fit for the privilege I propose to bestow upon her,"
answered Richelieu, with unction; "she will be safe from temptation
within the bosom of the Church, a blessing we, my father," and
Richelieu affected to heave a deep sigh, and cast up his eyes to
heaven, "we, who live in the world, cannot attain. We act then in
concert, my father," he added quickly, in his usual manner, "we act for
the good of his Majesty's soul?"
Caussin bowed acquiescence, but mistrust and perplexity were written
upon every line of his honest face, as he observed the evident
satisfaction evinced by the Cardinal at his compliance.
Richelieu rose: "We will force no one's inclination, my father," he
said blandly, "but all possibility of scandal must be removed. You
must at once prepare his Majesty. It will be a good work, and will
greatly recommend you to your order." Caussin, with a look of the
deepest concern, bowed profoundly and withdrew. When he was alone, the
Cardinal re-seated himself and fell into a deep muse. "Now," said he,
at length, speaking to himself, "her fate is sealed. I will take care
that her vocation shall be perfect. This presumptuous girl shall soon
come to rejoice, ay, rejoice, that she is permitted to take refuge in a
convent. As for Caussin, he is a fool. I must remove him immediately."
Richelieu, as he said of himself, never halted in his resolves. Caussin
was shortly sent off by a _lettre de cachet_ to Rennes, narrowly
escaping an intimation from the Cardinal to his Superior that it would
be well to exercise his devotion to the order as a missionary in Canada.
[Illustration: SALON OF LOUIS XIII. AT FONTAINEBLEAU.]