La Dame de Monsoreau (18 page)

" Did I not tell you the maid is in my pay ? She explained everything to me."

" Tudieu ! what a thing it is to be prince ! he has everything ready to his hand. Why, if it had been my case, monseigneur, I should have had to discover the house, explore the alley, count the steps, and feel my way in the corridor. It would have taken ine an enormous length of time, and who knows if I should have succeeded, after all! "

" So, then, you consent ? "

" Could I refuse anything to your Highness ? But you '11 come with me to point out the door."

" Not necessary. When we return from the hunt, we '11 go a little out of our way, pass Porte Saint-Antoine, and then'I'11 show it to you."

" Nothing could be better! And what am I to do to the man if he come ? "

" Nothing but follow him until you learn who he is."

" It 's a rather delicate matter. Suppose, for example, this man is so indiscreet as to halt in the middle of the road and bring uiy investigations to a standstill ? "

" You are at full liberty to adopt whatever plan pleases you."

" Then your Highness authorizes me to act as I should do in my own case ? "

" Exactly."

" I will do so, monseigneur."

" Not a word of this to any of our young gentlemen."

" My word of honor on it !"

" And you '11 set out on your exploration alone ? "

" I swear it."

" Very well, all 's settled ; we shall return by the Bastile. I '11 point out the door, you '11 come home with me for the key — and to-night " —

" I take your Highness' place ; it 's a bargain."

Bussy and the prince then joined the hunt, which M. de Monsoreau was conducting like a man of genius. The King was delighted with the punctuality displayed by the huntsman in arranging all the halts and relays. After being chased two hours, turned into an enclosure of twelve or fifteen miles, and seen more than a score of times, the animal was come up with, just at the point where he started.

M. de Monsoreau was congratulated by the King and the Due d'Anjou.

" Monseigneur," said he to the latter, " I am very glad you think me worthy of your compliments, since it is to you I owe my post."

" But you are aware, monsieur," said the prince, " that, in order to continue to merit them, you must start this evening forFontainebleau. The King will hunt the day after to-morrow and the days following, and a day will certainly not be more than enough to enable you to become acquainted with the forest."

" I know it, monseigneur, and I have given my people notice already. I am prepared to start to-night."

" Ah, that 's how it is, M. de Monsoreau ! " said Bussy ; " no more nights of rest for you. Well, you would be grand huntsman, and so you are. But the office you occupy entails the loss of fifty nights that other people have ; it's a lucky thing for you you 're not married, my dear M. de Monsoreau."

Bussy said this, laughing; the prince darted a piercing look at the grand huntsman; then turning round, he proceeded to congratulate the King on the evident improvement in his health since the night before.

As for Monsoreau, at the jest of Bussy he turned pale again, with that hideous paleness which gave him such a sinister aspect.

CHAPTER XII.

HOW BUSSY DISCOVERED BOTH PORTRAIT AND ORIGINAL.

THE hunt was over about four in the evening, and at five, as if the King wished to anticipate the desire of the Due d'Anjou, the whole court returned to Paris by way of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

M. de Monsoreau, under the pretext that he must set out at once, had taken leave of the princes, and proceeded with his men in the direction of Fromenteau.

When the King passed in front of the Bastile, he called the attention of his friends to the stern, gloomy appearance of the fortress ; it was his method of reminding them of what they might expect, if, after being his friends, they became his enemies.

Many understood the hint, and became more lavish than ever of their expressions of reverence for his Majesty.

During this time, the Due d'Anjou whispered to Bussy, who was riding close to him :

" Look well, Bussy; you see the wooden house on the right, with a little statue of the Virgin in the gable; follow the same line with your eye and count four houses, that of the Virgin included."

" It 's done," said Bussy.

" It is the fifth," said the prince, " the one just in front of the Rue Sainte-Catherine."

" I see it, monseigneur; stay, look yonder; at the blare of the trumpets announcing the King's approach, all the windows are crowded."

" Except those in the house I showed you," said the Due d'Anjou ; " they are closed."

" But one of the blinds is half open," answered Bussy, his heart beating terribly.

" Yes, but we can't see any one. Oh, the lady is well guarded, or else she guards herself ! At all events, that is the house ; I '11 give you the key at the hotel."

Bussy flashed a glance through the narrow opening, but, although his eyes were then riveted on it, he could perceive nothing.

When they reached the Hotel d'Anjou, the prince gave

Bussy the key, as he had promised, cautioning him to watch carefully. Bussy said he would be answerable for everything, and went to his hotel.

« Well ? " he said to Remy.

" The question I was about to ask you, monseigneur ? 7;

" You have discovered nothing ? "

" The house is as hard to find by day as by night. I 'in in a regular quandary about the five or six houses near it."

" Then 1 fancy I have been luckier than you, my dear Le Hardouin."

" How is that, monseigneur ? So you have been searching too ? "

" No, I only passed through the street."

" And you recognized the door ? "

" Providence, my dear friend, works in mysterious ways and is responsible for the most unforeseen results."

" Then you are quite certain ? "

" I do not say I am quite certain, but I have hopes."

" And when shall I know you have been fortunate enough to have found the object of your search."

" To-morrow morning."

" In the meantime, do you need me ? "

« Not at all."

" You do not wish me to follow you ? "

« That is impossible."

" Be prudent, at least, monseigneur."

" Oh, your advice is useless ; I am well known to be so."

Bussy dined like a man who is not at all sure where he will get his supper ; then, at eight, he selected his best sword, stuck a pair of pistols in his belt, in spite of the edict the King had just issued, and had himself carried in his litter to the end of the Rue Saint-Paul. There he recognized the house with the Virgin's statue, counted the next four houses, made certain the fifth was the house he wanted, and, wrapped in his long, dark cloak, crouched in an angle of the Rue Sainte-Catherine, with his mind made up to wait two hours, and then, if nobody came, to act on his own account.

It was striking nine at Saint Paul's when Bussy went into his hiding-place. He was there hardly ten minutes when he saw two horsemen advancing through the darkness by the Porte de la Bastille. They halted near the Hotel des Tournelles. One alighted, flung the reins to the second, who, very likely,

was a lackey, and, after watching him and the two horses go back the way they had come, until he lost sight of them, he proceeded toward the house confided to the watchfulness of Bussy.

When the stranger was near the house he made a circuit, apparently with the intention of exploring the neighborhood. Then, sure that he was not observed, he approached the door and disappeared.

Bussy heard the noise made by the door closing behind him.

He waited a moment, fearing this mysterious personage might remain awhile on the watch behind the wicket; but, when a few minutes had slipped by, he advanced in turn, crossed the road, opened the door, and, taught by experience, shut it noiselessly.

Then he turned round ; the wicket was on a level with his eye, and, in all probability, it was the very wicket through which he had reconnoitred Quelus.

But he had something else to do; this was not what had brought him here. He felt his way slowly, touching both sides of the alley, and at the end, on the left, he came upon the first step of the staircase.

Here he stopped for two reasons : first, because his legs were giving way under him from emotion ; and secondly, because he heard a voice which said :

" Gertrude, inform your mistress I am here, and wish to enter."

The order was given in too imperious a tone to admit of refusal; in an instant Bussy heard the voice of the servant answering :

" Pass into the drawing-room, monsieur ; madame will be with you in a moment."

Bussy then thought of the twelve steps Kemy had counted ; he did the same, and, at the end of his counting, found himself on the landing.

He recalled the corridor and the three doors, and advanced a few steps, holding in his breath and stretching out his hand, which came in contact with the first door, the one by which the unknown had entered. He went on again, found a second door, turned the key in the lock, and, shivering from head to foot, entered.

The room in which Bussy found himself was completely

dark, except in a corner, which was partially illuminated by the light in the drawing-room, a side door being open.

This light fell on the windows, — windows hung with tapestry ! — the sight thrilled the young man's heart with ecstasy.

His eyes next turned to the ceiling ; a part of it was also lit up by the same reflected beams, and he recognizetl some of the mythological figures he had seen before ; he extended his hand — it touched the carved bed.

Doubt was no longer possible ; he was again in the same chamber in which he had awakened on the night he received the wound to which he owed his hospitable reception.

Every fibre in his body thrilled anew when he touched that bed and inhaled the perfume that emanates from the couch of a young and beautiful woman.

Bussy hid behind the bed curtains and listened.

He heard in the adjoining apartments the impatient footsteps of the unknown, who paused at intervals, murmuring between his teeth :

" Is she never coming ? "

At length a door opened — a door in the drawing-room seemingly parallel to the half-open door already mentioned. The floor creaked under the pressure of a small foot, the rustling of a silk dress reached Bussy 's ears, and the young man heard a woman's voice, — a voice trembling at once with fear and scorn ; it said :

" I am here, monsieur ; what do you want with me now ? "

" Oho ! " thought Buss}', from behind his curtains, " if this man is the lover, I congratulate the husband."

" Madame," answered the man who was received in this freezing fashion, « I have the honor to inform you I must start for Fontainebleau to-morrow morning, and I have come to spend the night with you."

" Do you bring me news of my father ? " asked the same feminine voice.

" Listen to me, madame."

" Monsieur, you know what was our agreement yesterday when I consented to become your wife; it was that, first of all, either my father should come to Paris or I should go to my father."

" Madame, we will start immediately after my return from Fontainebleau. I pledge you my word of honor. In the meantime " —

" Oh, monsieur, do not close that door, it is useless. I will not spend a single night, no, not a single night, under the same roof with you until I am reassured as to my father's fate."

And the woman who spoke so resolutely blew a little silver whistle which gave a shrill, protracted sound.

This was the method adopted for summoning servants in an age when bells had not been yet invented for domestic purposes.

At the same moment, the door through which Bussy had entered again opened and the young woman's maid appeared on the scene. She was a tall, robust daughter of Anjou, had been apparently on the watch for her mistress' summons, and had hurried to obey it as soon as heard.

After entering the drawing-room, she opened the door that had been shut.

A stream of light then flowed into the chamber where Bussy was stationed, and he recognized the portrait between the two. windows.

" Gertrude," said the lady, " do not go to bed, and remain always within sound of my voice."

The maid withdrew by the way she had entered, without uttering a word, leaving the door of the drawing-room wide open, so that the wonderful portrait was entirely illuminated.

This placed the matter beyond all question in Bussy's eyes : the portrait was the one he had seen before.

He advanced softly to peep through the opening between the hinges of the door and the wall, but, soft as was his tread, just at the very moment he was able to look into the apartment, the floor creaked.

The lady heard it and turned : the original of the portrait! the fairy of his dream !

The man, although he had heard nothing, turned when the lady did.

It was the Seigneur de Monsoreau !

" Ha ! " muttered Bussy, u the white nag — the kidnapped woman. I am assuredly on the point of listening to some terrible story."

And he wiped his face, which had become suddenly covered with perspiration.

Bussy, as we have stated, saw them both : the one standing, pale and scornful; the other seated, not so much pale as livid, moving his foot impatiently and biting his hand.

" Madame/' said he, at length, " it is nearly time for you to give up acting the part of a persecuted woman, a victim ; you are in Paris, you are in my house, and, moreover, you are now the Comtesse de Monsoreau, and that means you are my wife."