La Dame de Monsoreau (106 page)

Being invited to return, Chicot returned, and as he" brought with him, stowed away under his cloak or in his pockets or wide boots, flasks of wine of the rarest and most perfect vintage, he received a warmer welcome from Brother Gorenflot than even from Messire Joseph Foulon.

Then he would shut himself up in the monk's cell for entire hours, sharing, according to general rumor, his studies and his ecstasies.

The eve of Corpus Christi, he spent even the whole night in the convent; the next day it was whispered through the cloisters that Gorenflot had persuaded Chicot to take the robe.

As for the King, he passed the time in giving excellent fencing-lessons to his friends, especially to D'Epernon, to whom fate had allotted so dangerous an adversary, and who was visibly alarmed by the near approach of the decisive day.

Any one who happened to be rambling through the city at certain hours during the night would have encountered in the Quartier Sainte-Genevieve the singular-looking monks of whom our readers have had some description in the earlier chapters,

and who bore a much closer resemblance to reiters than to friars.

Finally, to complete our picture, we might add that the Hotel de Guise had become the most mysterious, noisy, and populous caravansary interiorly and the most deserted exteriorly that can well be imagined; that clandestine meetings were held every night in the grand hall, after the blinds and windows had been hermetically closed ; that these meetings were preceded by dinners to which none but men were invited, and yet they were presided over by Madame de Montpensier.

We are forced to supply our readers with these details, gathered from the memoires of the period, because they would never find them among the archives of the police.

In fact, the police of this beneficent reign had not even a suspicion of the plot that was being hatched under its very nose, although this plot, as we shall see afterward, was to have important consequences ; and as for the worthy citizens who made their nightly rounds, sallet on head and halberd in hand, they had no suspicion, either, being a sort of folk incapable of scenting out any peril except that which arose from fire, thieves, mad dogs, and quarrelsome tipplers.

Now and then a patrol would halt in front of the Belle-Etoile, Rue de PArbre-Sec. But Maitre la Huriere was known to be such a zealous Catholic that the great noise heard in his hostelry was assumed to be created by persons wishful of extending' the glory of God.

Such was the condition of affairs in the city of Paris when the morning of the great solemnity called Corpus Christi arrived, a solemnity that has been abolished by our constitutional government.

It was a beautiful morning ; the weather was superb, and the flowers, strewed along the streets, sent their perfumes through the air.

On this morning Chicot, who for the last fortnight had slept every night in the King's room, awoke Henri early; nobody as yet had entered the King's bedchamber.

" A plague on you, my poor Chicot ! " cried Henri; " you always select the most unseasonable moment. You have broken in upon the most delightful dream I ever had in my life."

" And what was your dream, my son ? " asked Chicot.

" I dreamed that Quelus had run Antraguet through the

body with a segoon, and that he was swimming in the blood of his enemy. But it is daylight, my friend. Let us go and pray that my dream may be realized. Call, Chicot, call!"

" Why, what do you want ? "

" My hair-shirt and scourges."

" Would n't a good breakfast be better ? " inquired Chicot.

" Pagan !" cried Henri; " who would hear Mass on Corpus Christi with a full stomach ? "

" You 're right."

" Call, Chicot, call."

" Patience," said Chicot, " it's not yet eight, and you have the whole day to wallop yourself in. Let us have a little chat first; won't you chat with your friend, Valois ? Chicot pledges you his word that you will not repent of it."

" Talk away," said Henri, " but do it quick."

" How shall we divide our day, my son ? "

" Into three parts."

" In honor of the Blessed Trinity, I see, very good. And now for these three parts."

" First, mass at Saint-Germain 1'Auxerrois."

« Good."

" Return to the Louvre for collation."

" Very good !"

" Then processions of penitents through the streets, stopping to make stations in the chief convents of Paris, beginning with the Jacobins and ending with Sainte Genevieve, where I have promised the prior to go on a retreat until to-morrow in the cell of a sort of saint who will spend the night praying for the success of our arms."

" I know him."

« The saint ? "

" Perfectly."

" So much the better ; you shall accompany me, Chicot; we will pray together."

" Yes, you may rest easy in your mind about that."

" Then, dress yourself and come."

" Wait a moment."

"What for?"

" I have a few more questions to put to you."

" Can't you put them while my people are making my toilet ? "

" I prefer putting them while we are alone."

" Then do so speedily, the time is passing."

« What about the court ? "

" It will follow me."

" And your brother ? "

" Accompanies me."

" The French guards will wait for me at the Louvre with Crillon ; the Swiss at the gate of the abbey."

" Capital! " said Chicot. " I have now all the information I want."

«I may call, then ? "

" Yes, call away."

Henri struck a bell.

" The ceremony will be magnificent," continued Chicot.

" God will be pleased with us, I hope."

" We '11 know that to-morrow. But say, Henri; before anybody enter, have you nothing else to tell me."

" No. Have I omitted any of the details of the ceremonial ? "

" It is not of that I arn speaking."

" Then of what are you speaking ? "

" Of nothing."

" But you ask me "

" If it is quite settled that you are to go to the Abbey of Sainte Genevieve ? "

" Decidedly."

" And that you are to pass the night there ? "

" I promised to do so."

" Well, if you have nothing to say to me, my son, I have something to say to you, and it is that this programme does not suit me at all."

" Does n't suit you ? "

" No, and when we have dined"

" When we have dined ? "

" I will tell you of another arrangement I have figured out."

" Well, I consent to it."

" Even if you did n't consent, my son, it would still be all the same."

" What do you mean ? "

" Hush ! your valets are in the antechamber."

No sooner were these words out of Chicot's mouth than the usher opened the portieres, and the barber, perfumer, and a valet de ckambre entered. They took entire possession of the

King and performed on his august person one of those operations which we have already described in the beginning of this work.

When the toilet was about two-thirds finished, his highness the Due d'Anjou was announced.

Henri turned round and called up his best smiles to receive him.

The duke was accompanied by M. de Monsoreau, D'Epernon, and Aurilly.

D'Epernon and Aurilly stood behind him.

At the sight of the count, still pale and looking more frightful than ever, Henri gave a start of surprise.

The duke noticed the movement, which did not escape the count, either.

" Sire," said the duke, " M. de Monsoreau has come to pay homage to your Majesty."

" Thanks, monsieur," said Henri, " and I am the more touched by your visit because you have been wounded, have you not ? "

" Yes, sire."

" While out hunting, was it not ? "

"While out hunting, sire."

" But you are better now, I hope ? "

" I am entirely recovered."

"Sire," said the Due d'Anjou, "would it not please you to have M. de Monsoreau get up a hunt for us in the woods of Compiegne, after our devotions are finished?"

" But," said Henri, " are you not aware that to-morrow "

He was about to say " four of your friends are about to fight four of mine ;" but he remembered that the secret must have been kept, and he paused.

" I am not aware of anything, sire," returned the Due d'Anjou, " and if your Majesty will inform me " —

" I meant," answered Henri, " that as I am to spend to-night in prayer at the Abbey of Sainte. Genevieve, I could not be ready, perhaps, to-morrow. But M. le Comte may set out, notwithstanding. If the hunt do not take place to-morrow, we can have it the day after."

" You understand ? " said the duke to Monsoreau, who bowed.

" Yes, monseigneur," replied the count.

At this moment Schomberg and Quelus entered. The King received them with open arms.

" Another day," said Quelus, saluting the King.

" And more than a day, fortunately," said Schomberg.

During this time Monsoreau was saying to the Due d'Anjou:

" You are having me exiled, monseigneur."

" Is it not the grand huntsman's duty to arrange the King's hunts ? " answered Francois, with a laugh.

" I understand," replied Monsoreau, " and I see clearly how matters stand. The week's delay which your highness asked of me expires this evening, and your highness prefers to send me to Compiegne rather than keep your promise. But let your highness beware. Before night I can with a single word " —

Francois seized the count by the wrist.

" Silence," said he; "I will keep this promise whose fulfilment you claim."

" Explain yourself."

" Your departure will be publicly known, since the order is official."

« Well ? "

" Well, you will not go, but you will hide in the neighborhood of your house ; then, believing you away, the man you wished to discover will come. The rest concerns yourself; for this is all I promised, if I am not mistaken."

" Ah! " exclaimed Monsoreau, " if this be so "

" You have my word for it," said the duke.

" I have better than that, monseigneur ; I have your signature," said Monsoreau.

" Oh, yes, mordieu ! I know that well."

And the duke left Monsoreau, and went up to his brother. Aurilly touched D'Epernon's arm.

t{ It is all up," said he.

" What is all up ? " asked D'Epernon.

" M. de Bussy will not fight to-morrow."

" M. de Bussy will not fight to-morrow ? "

" You may take my word for it."

" And who will prevent him ? "

" What matter, so long as he doesn't fight."

" If that be so, there are a thousand crowns at your service, my dear sorcerer."

" Gentlemen," said the King, who had finished his toilet, "now for Saint-Germain 1'Auxerrois."

" And from there to the Abbey of Sainte Genevieve ? " asked the duke.

" Certainly," answered the King.

" You may stake your life on it," said Chicot, buckling on his belt.

And Henri passed into the gallery, where his whole court were waiting for him.

CHAPTER LXXXVII.

WHICH WILL MAKE THE PRECEDING CHAPTER CLEARER.

ON the previous evening, when the Guises and the Ange-vines had agreed upon their plans, and formed all their arrangements for carrying them out, M. de Monsoreau had returned to his house, where he found Bussy.

Then, fearing that this brave gentlemen, for whom he still entertained the warmest friendship, might be sadly compromised the next day, as he knew nothing of what was likely to occur, he took him aside.

" My dear count," he had said, " would you permit me to give you a bit of advice ? "

" Why not ? Yon will confer a favor on me by doing so," had been Bussy's answer.

" If I were in your place, I think I should go away from Paris to-morrow."

" I! And for what reason, pray ? "

" All I can tell you is that your absence would, in all probability, save you from great trouble."

" From great trouble ? " asked Bussy, looking into the count's eyes with a searching gaze. " And what is the trouble ? "

" Are you ignorant of what is to occur to-morrow ? "

" Completely."

" Upon your honor ? "

" Upon my honor as a gentleman."

" And M. d'Anjou has said nothing to you ? "

" Nothing. M. d'Anjou trusts me only with matters which he tells everybody, and I will add, with matters anybody can find out for himself."

" Well, I who am not the Due d'Anjou and who love my friends for their own sakes and not for mine, I will tell you that there

are plans in preparation which may lead to grave issues tomorrow, and that the parties of Anjou and Guise are contemplating a stroke which may result in the King's abdication."

Bussy stared at M. de Monsoreau distrustfully, but it was impossible to make any mistake as to the perfect frankness which marked the expression of his face.

" Count," he answered, " I belong to the Due d'Anjou, as you know, " that is to say, my life and sword belong to him. The King, whom I have never really attempted to injure, is set against me, and never misses an opportunity of saying or doing something to hurt me. And to-morrow, even," continued Bussy, lowering his voice, — " I tell this to you, but to you alone, you understand ? — to-morrow I am about to risk my life to humble Henri de Valois in the person of his favorites."

" So," inquired Monsoreau, " you are resolved to stand the hazard of your attachment to the Due d'Anjou, with all its consequences ? "

« Yes."

" You know where all this will lead you, I suppose ? "

" I know where I am determined to stop ; whatever reason I may have to complain of the King, I will never raise a hand against the Lord's anointed ; but I will let others act as they like, and, while never challenging or attacking any one, I will follow M. d'Anjou and defend him if he be exposed to danger."