La Dame de Monsoreau (114 page)

" Now, my son," said Chicot, " keep twenty men for your own escort, and send ten others with M. de Crillon."

" Where am I to send them ? "

" To the Hotel d'Anjou; let them bring your brother back with them."

" Why should I do so ? "

" To prevent him from escaping a second time."

" Why, has my brother "

" Do you think you acted unwisely in following my advice to-day ? "

" No, par la mordieu ! "

" Then do as I tell you."

Henri ordered the colonel of the French guards to bring the Due d'Anjou to the Louvre.

Crillon, who was anything but partial to the prince, started immediately.

" And what are you going to do ? " inquired Henri.

" Oh, I am waiting for my saint."

" But you '11 come to the Louvre ? "

" In an hour."

" Then I '11 leave you."

" Go, my son."

Henri went off, followed by the rest of his attendants.

As for Chicot, he took his way to the stables. When he entered the courtyard, he saw Gorenflot mounted on Panurge.

The idea never entered the poor wretch's head of attempting to escape the fate he believed awaited him.

" Come," said Chicot, taking Panurge by the halter, " let us make haste, we are expected."

Gorenflot did not offer the slightest resistance, but he shed so many tears that he was actually growing thinner.

CHAPTER XCIV.

IN WHICH CHICOT GUESSES WHY D'EPERNON HAD BLOOD ON HIS FEET AND NONE IN HIS CHEEKS.

THE King, on returning to the Louvre, found his friends had retired and were sleeping peacefully.

Historical events have this singular influence: they lend to the incidents that have preceded them a certain reflected grandeur.

Those of our readers, then, who are interested in the events that were to take place on this very morning — for it was two o'clock when the King returned to the Louvre — and who will have their interest enhanced by their prevision of what was to occur, will, perhaps, also be somewhat moved by witnessing the visit of the King, after almost losing his crown, to his three friends, those friends who, in a few hours, will risk their lives in his cause.

The poet, whose privilege it is, not to foresee, but to divine, will, we are sure, find a certain melancholy charm in the aspect of those youthful faces, now reposing tranquilly, like brothers, in the household dormitory, on couches stationed side by side, a smile of confidence playing on their lips.

Henri stepped softly among them, followed by Chicot, who, after seeing that his friend Gorenflot was placed in safe keeping, had made his way back to the palace.

One bed was empty — D'Epernon's.

"Not returned yet? the thoughtless fellow!'' murmured the King; " what an unfortunate fool he must be ! He is to fight Bussy, the bravest man in France, Bussy, the most dangerous man in the whole world, and this is all the concern the matter gives him ! "

" It looks that way at present," said Chicot.

" Some of my people must at once go in search of M. d'Epernon, and bring him back ! " cried Henri. " Some one go for Miron, too; I want him to send this madcap fast asleep, whether he likes it or not; a sound sleep will strengthen and toughen him, Avill put him in good condition to defend himself."

" Sire," said an usher, " M. d'Epernon has just come in."

D'Epernoii had, in fact, come in a little before. When he

learned of the King's return, and suspected that his Majesty would visit the common apartment of the minions, he stole rapidly thither, hoping that he might get there before Henri, and that his absence would not be discovered.

But several persons were looking for him, and, as we have seen, his arrival was announced to the King.

Seeing that he was in for a scolding, he felt considerably embarrassed as he approached the threshold.

" Ah ! so here you are at last!" said Henri; " come here, you wretched scamp, and look at your friends."

D'Epernon looked round him, and signified by a gesture that he had seen them.

" Look at your friends: they have some common sense; they understand the importance of what is about to take place tomorrow, while you, wretch that you are, instead of praying as they have done, and sleeping as they are doing now, have been running through the streets and spending your time in every sort of debauchery. Corbleu ! how pale you are ! A nice figure you'll present to-morrow, when you look such a wreck tonight ! "

D'lllpernon's pallor was, indeed, very noticeable, though the last remark of the King called up a little color in his cheeks for a moment.

" Well," continued Henri, « go to bed now ; I order you to do so, and sleep if you can. Do you think^ you can sleep ? "

" I sleep ! of course," answered D'Epernon, as if such a question was almost an insult.

" But what time have you for sleeping ? Do you know that you are to fight at daybreak ? -Do you know that in this unfortunate season the sun rises at four o'clock ? It is now two; so you have barely two hours to rest."

"Oh, a great deal can be done in two hours, if you employ them wisely," D'Epernon answered.

« Then you '11 sleep ? "

" Soundly, I assure you, sire."

" I don't believe a word of it."

" Why so ? "

" Because you are excited, you are thinking of to-morrow. Alas ! you are right, for to-morrow is to-day; but I try to forget it, try to imagine that the .fatal hour is still distant."

" Sire, I will sleep, I promise you," said D'Epernon. " But how can I sleep if your Majesty will not let me sleep ?"

" That's very true," said Chicot.

D'Epernon undressed and got into bed, all the time looking so calm and confident that Chicot, as well as the King, considered his bearing a good omen for the coming duel.

" He 's as brave as Caesar," answered the King.

" So brave," said Chicot, scratching his ear, " that, upon my soul, I can't make head or tail of it."

" Look, he is already asleep."

Chicot drew near the bed, for he could not believe that D'Epernoii's serenity was as imperturbable as such a profound slumber would indicate.

" Oh ! oh ! " he exclaimed, suddenly.

" What is the matter ? " asked the King.

« See! "

And Chicot pointed to D'Epernon's boots.

" Blood! " murmured the King.

" Yes, he has been walking in blood, my son. What a regular -Hector our friend is! "

" Do you think he is wounded ? " asked the King, anxiously.

" Nonsense ! he would have told us if he were. And besides, unless he were wounded, like Achilles, in the heel "

" Stop! his doublet is also spotted; look at the sleeve. What has happened, I wonder ? "

" Perhaps he killed some one," answered Chicot.

« Why should he do so ? "

" To keep his hand in."

" It is strange, is it not ? " said the King.

Chicot scratched his ear with a much more serious air than usual.

" Hum ! hum !" he muttered.

" You don't answer."

" Yes, I do. I say ' hum ! hum !' That means a great deal, in my opinion."

" Good God ! " cried Henri, " what is this that is happening around me, and what sort of a future am I to expect ? Luckily, to-morrow "

" To-day, my son; you are always making a jumble of things."

" Yes, you are right."

" Well, what about to-day, then ? "

" To-day I shall be quite easy in my mind.'

" Why do you think so ? "

" Because these infernal Angevines will be slain."

" You believe so, Henri ? "

" I am sure of it; my men are brave."

" I never heard that the Angevines were cowards."

" I don't say so, either; but my friends are so strong. Look at Schomberg's arms. Did you ever see such splendid muscle ? "

" But did you ever see Antraguet's ? "

" And then, see what an expression of resolution and command there dwells on Quelus's lips ; and look at Maugiron's forehead, what an air of imperious pride sits on it even in his sleep. Those who own such faces cannot fail to conquer. When the lightning that flashes from these eyes strikes their enemies, their enemies will be half vanquished."

" Ah! my dear friend," said Chicot, sadly shaking his head, " I know of eyes as bright under brows as haughty that shoot forth flashes as terrible as those upon which you rely. Is this all you have to trust to ? "

" No, come and I will show you something."

« Where ? "

" In my cabinet."

" And does this something you are about to show me give you assurance of victory ? "

" Yes."

" Come along, then."

" Wait a moment."

And Henri approached the couches of the young men.

" Why ? " inquired Chicot.

" I do not want to do anything to-day, or rather to-morrow, that might sadden and depress them. And so I wish to bid them farewell now."

Chicot nodded.

" Do so, my son," said he.

The tone of voice in which Chicot uttered these few words was so melancholy that it sent a shudder through Henri's veins and brought the tears to his eyes.

" Adieu, my friends," he murmured j « adieu, my loyal friends."

Chicot turned his head ; his heart was no more marble than that of the King. But his eyes were soon carried back, as if by an irresistible attraction, to the faces of the young favorites.

Henri stooped down and imprinted a light kiss on each of their foreheads.

The faint light of a taper alone illumined the scene, giving a funereal tinge to the draperies of the chamber and the countenances of the actors.

Chicot was not superstitious ; but when Henri's lips touched the foreheads of Maugiron, Quelus, and Schomberg, it looked to his imagination as if a living man, weighed down by a sorrow that was inconsolable, had come to bid a last farewell to the dead who were already lying in their tombs,

" Queer ! " said Chicot to himself, " I never had this feeling before ; poor boys ! "

Shortly after the King had finished embracing his friends, D'Epernon opened his eyes to see if he had left the room.

He^had just passed out from it, leaning on Chicot's arm.

D'Epernon jumped out of bed and began to efface, as well as he could, the stains of blood on his boots and doublet. . This occupation brought back to his mind the scene in the Place de la Bastille.

" All the blood I have in my body," he said, " would not suffice to satiate that man who, with his own simple arm, shed so much blood to-night."

And he went to bed again.

As for Henri, he led Chicot to his cabinet, and, opening a long ebony coffer lined with white satin :

" Come here," said he, " and look."

" I see," answered Chicot, " swords. Well, what about them ? "

" Yes, swords, but swords that have been blessed, my dear friend."

« By whom ? "

" By our holy father the pope himself, who has granted me this favor. To send this coffer to Rome and get it back again cost me twenty horses and four men ; but I have the swords."

" Are they sharp ? "

" Undoubtedly. But their peculiar and highest merit is that they are blessed."

" Oh, I know all that ; but I am not the less pleased on that account to learn that they are sharp."

" Pagan !"

" Very well, my son ; and now, let us speak of other things."

" As you like ; but be quick."

" You want to sleep ? "

" No, I want to pray."

" In that case we had better speak of matters of business at once. You have sent for M. d'Anjou ? "

" Yes, he is waiting below."

" What do you intend to do with him ? "

"Throw.him into the Bastile."

" A wise determination. But see to it that his dungeon is very deep and very secure ; the sort of a dungeon, for example, that was occupied by the constable Saint Paul or Jacques d'Armagnac."

" Make your mind easy on that point."

" I know where you can purchase the most beautiful black velvet you ever saw, my son."

" Chicot ! he is my brother."

" You are correct; of course, at court the family mourning is violet. Do you intend to speak to him ? "

" Yes, certainly I shall do so, if only for the purpose of depriving him of all hope by showing him that his plots are discovered."

" Hum ! " muttered Chicot.

" Do you think I expose myself to any danger by conversing with him ? "

" No ; still, if I were in your place, I should cut short the conversation and double the imprisonment."

" Let the Due d'Anjou be led into my presence," said Henri.

" All the same," said Chicot, " I hold the same opinion still."

A moment later, the duke entered; he was very pale, and without any weapon. Crillon followed, carrying the prince's sword.

" Where did you find him ? " the King asked Crillon, speaking as if he were entirely oblivious of the duke's presence.

" Sire, his highness was not at home ; but a few moments after I had taken possession of his hotel in your Majesty's name, his highness returned, and we arrested him; he did not offer any resistance."

" It is very fortunate he did not," said the King, scornfully.

Then turning to the prince:

" Where were you, monsieur ? " he inquired.

" Wherever I was, sire," answered the duke, " you may be convinced that I was devoting myself to your Majesty's service."

" Ah ! tndeed ! I suspected as much," answered Henri; " and your answer* proves that I was not wrong in doing you the sort of service you would do me."

Francois bowed, calmly and respectfully.

" Come, now, where were you ? " said the King, marching straight up to his brother, " what were you doing during the time your accomplices were being arrested ? "

" My accomplices ? " asked Frangois.

" Yes, your accomplices," repeated the King.

" Surely your Majesty must have received some information regarding me that is utterly false."