La Dame de Monsoreau (77 page)

"Nothing more easy," answered Bussy, resolved to acquiesce in everything in order to gain time, and, besides, he was in too dazed a condition to be other than a passive instrument for the moment.

" Stop, gentlemen ! " he shouted to the trumpeters, who were returning home after doing their office.

They turned round, but were not at all impressed when they perceived the condition of Bussy and his companion, who were covered with dust and perspiration, and whose dress by no means indicated their rank.

" Ho, there! stop ! " cried Bussy, marching up to them — " is it possible the master is not recognized in his own house ? - Bring hither the city councillor on duty."

The haughty tone in which Bussy spoke had its effect on the heralds ; one of them approached.

" Christ in heaven !" he exclaimed, recoiling in terror, after he had taken a good look at the duke's face — " if it is n't our lord and master ! "

The deformity of the prince's nose — split in two, as Chicot's song said — rendered him easily recognizable everywhere.

" Monseigneur le Due ! " he added, seizing the arm of the other herald,/who was equally taken aback.

" You know as much as I do myself now," said Bussy, " so don't spare your breath, and let your trumpet sing out loud enough to wake the dead ; see to it that the whole city learn in a quarter of an hour of his highness' arrival.

" Arid now, monseigneur," added the count, turning to the Due d'Anjou, " the next best thing for us to do is to ride slowly to the castle. I have no doubt we shall find everything ready for your reception when we get there."

The result proved the truth of Bussy's words. At the first cry of the heralds, groups were formed here and there ; at the second, old women and children were running through the lanes and streets, screaming:

" Monseigneur is in the city ! Welcome to monseigneur ! Noel to monseigneur! "

The city councillors, governor, and principal gentlemen hur ried to the castle, followed by a crowd that grew denser every moment.

As Bussy had foreseen, the authorities of the city, anxious to receive the prince with due honor, were in the castle before him.

On his way to his residence along the quay, the prince had the greatest difficulty in forcing a passage through the assembled multitude; fortunately, Bussy had found one of the heralds, who, by using his trumpet freely on the heads of the too loyal citizens, forced them to open a path for their master. When the latter reached the steps of the Town Hall he halted and addressed the people.

" Gentlemen and right trusty and leal friends," said he, " I have come to throw myself into my good city of Angers. In Paris the most terrible perils threatened my life; I had even lost my liberty; I succeeded in escaping, thanks to my loyal friends."

Bussy bit his lips; he knew the meaning of the ironical glance Francois darted at him.

" But now that I am in your city, I feel that my life and my tranquillity are 110 longer exposed to any danger."

The populace, who expected the largess usually distributed by the prince 011 such occasions, had shouted vigorously: « Noel! Noel! "

When Francois entered his palace his first words were: " Let us have supper; I have eaten nothing since morning."

The prince was in a moment surrounded by all the members of the household which, as Due d'Anjou, he kept up in Angers ; only the principal servants were acquainted with their master.

It was next the turn of the gentlemen and ladies of the city.

The reception lasted until midnight.

The city was illuminated, muskets were fired off in the streets and on the squares, the bells of the cathedral were rung, and some whiffs of one of those noisy and enthusiastic celebrations for which the good Angevines have been at all times famous were borne by the wind even to Meridor.

CHAPTER LVI.

THE DUG D'ANJOU'S DIPLOMACY.

WHEN the echo of the musketry in the streets had grown fainter, when the cathedral bells had slackened their vibrations, when the antechambers were cleared of their visitors, when, in short, Bussy and the Due d'Anjou were alone :

" Let us talk," said the latter.

In fact, Franqois, who was very clear-sighted, had observed that at present Bussy was far more deferential toward him than he was in the habit of being; knowing the count as well as he did, he came to the conclusion that his gentleman must, then, be in an embarrassing situation, and he might, conse-

quently, get the upper hand over him by the exercise of a little adroitness.

But Bussy had had some time for preparation, and was able to look forward to an encounter with his prince tranquilly.

" Let us talk, monseigneur," he answered.

" The last day we saw each other," said the duke, " you were very ill, my poor Bussy !"

" You are right, monseigneur," replied the young man. " 1 was very ill, and it was almost a miracle that saved me."

"On that day," continued the prince, "you were attended by a certain doctor whose zeal in your service rendered him quite rabid, for, if I remember aright, he snapped furiously at every one who attempted to come near you,"

" You are right again, my prince, for Le Haudouin is very much attached to me."

" He insisted rigorously on your staying in bed, did he not ? "

" Which drove me nearly frantic, as your highness must have noticed."

" But," said the duke, " if you had been really frantic you would have pitched all the doctors to the devil, and come with me when I asked you."

" Oh — perhaps — I am not quite " — stammered Bussy, twisting his apothecary's hat between his fingers.

" However," went on Francois, " the affair in which I was concerned might have had serious consequences, and no doubt you were afraid of getting compromised."

" What do you mean ? " cried Bussy, immediately donning his hat and slouching it over his eyes; " have I heard aright ? Did you say I was afraid of getting compromised ? "

" I said so," retorted the prince.

Bussy bounded from his chair and drew himself up to his full height.

" Then you lied, monseigneur! " he cried, " understand me well — you lied to yourself, for you don't believe a word of all you have just said ; I have twenty scars on my skin to show I have got compromised sometimes and been afraid never ; and, in good faith, I know of plenty who cannot say as much and, above all, cannot show as much."

" You have always conclusive arguments at your fingers' ends, M. de Bussy," answered the duke, pale and agitated. " When you are accused you shout louder than your accuser, and then you fancy you are right."

"Oh, I am not always right, monseigneur," said Bussy, " I know that well, but I also know when I am wrong.' 7

" And when are you wrong, might I ask you ? "

" When I serve an ingrate."

" Really, monsieur, I think you forget yourself," said the prince, rising, with that air of dignity which he could very well assume on occasion.

" Oh, very well, monseigneur, I forget myself," retorted Bussy; " do you, for once in your life, do the same; forget yourself, or, at least, forget me."

And the young gentleman moved toward the door ; but the prince was quicker than he, and barred his passage.

" Will you deny, monsieur," said the duke, " that on the very day you refused to accompany me you went out the moment I was gone ? "

" I never deny anything, monseigneur," answered Bussy, " except what a person tries to force me to acknowledge."

" Tell me then w^hy you were so obstinate in staying in your hotel."

" Because I had business."

" In your hotel ? "

" There or elsewhere."

" I used to be under the impression that when a gentleman was in the service of a prince, his principal business was his prince's business."

" And who usually does your business, monseigneur, if not I?"

" I do not assert the contrary ; ordinarily I have found you faithful and devoted; nay, I will say more, I think there is some excuse for your ill-temper."

" Ah, you are very kind."

" Yes, you had some reason to be angry with me."

" You admit that, monseigneur ? "

" Yes, I had promised you to disgrace M. de Monsoreau. It seems you have a strong detestation for this M. de Monsoreau."

" Oh, not at all. I think he has an awfully ugly face, and I wished him away from court, so that I might not have to look at it. On the other hand, it is a face you are rather fond of. There is no use in disputing about tastes."

" Well, then, if that was your only reason for pouting at me like a spoiled, sulky child, I tell you you were doubly wrong

to refuse to go out with me and to go out afterward for the purpose of making a parade of your useless prowess ? "

" Oh, I have made a parade of my useless prowess, have I ? Why, just now, you accused me of - Come, come, monsei-gneur, it might be as well if we were a little consistent. By the way, what deeds of t useless prowess ' have I been engaged in ? "

" Of course, I can easily understand your hatred of D'Eper-non and Schomberg. I hate them myself, and mortally, too. But you ought to have been satisfied with hating them for the time, and wait for the critical moment."

" Oh, indeed! " said Bussy, " your words are mysterious, monseigneur ; what do you mean ? "

" Kill them, by heavens ! Kill them both, kill the whole four of them, and you will never do anything that will please me better ; but don't exasperate them, especially when you get away from Paris immediately after, for I become the victim of their exasperation."

" To the point, please ; what is it I have done to the worthy Gascon ? "

" You speak of D'Epernon, do you not ? "

« Yes."

" Why, you had him pelted with stones."

" I ? "

" Stoned to such good purpose that his doublet was in tatters, his cloak in rags, and, when he reached the Louvre, he had hardly anything on him except his breeches."

" Good ! " said Bussy, " we have disposed of one of them. And now let us pass to the German. What injury have I done to M. de Schomberg ? "

" Will you deny you had him dyed in indigo ? When I saw him, three hours after his accident, he was still of a bright sky blue. And you call that a fine joke ! Pshaw ! "

And the prince had to laugh in spite of himself, while Bussy, at the recollection of the figure cut by Schomberg in the vat, fairly roared.

" So I am supposed, then," said he, " to be the person that played these nice tricks on them ? "

" Pardieu ! I suppose you will say it was I ? "

" And yet you have the courage, monseigneur, to bring your accusations against a man capable of being the author of such sublime ideas ! I put it to yourself, was I not right just now when I called you an ingrate ? "

" Agreed, and. if you really left your hotel for that purpose, I pardon you."

« Sure ? "

" Yes, upon my word of honor; but I have other grievances against you."

" Fire away."

" I want to say just a little about myself."

" As you like."

" What have you done to get me out of my very unpleasant predicament ? "

" You see for yourself what I have done."

"No, I don't see it at all."

" Why, I started at once for Anjou."

" Which means that you ran away, to save yourself."

" Yes, for, by saving myself, I saved you."

" But, instead of going such a distance, don't you think you should have remained near Paris ? It seems to me you would have been of more use to me at Montmartre than at Angers."

" Ah, there ? s where we differ, monseigneur; I preferred to go to Anjou."

" Your preference is hardly a reason. You must admit that this whim of yours "

" Had for its object to recruit partisans for you."

" Oh, that puts another face on the question. Well, what have you done ? "

" Time enough to explain all that to-morrow, monseigneur. I must leave you now."

" Why ? "

" I have an appointment with one of the most influential persons in this country."

" Ah, if so, that is another matter; go, Bussy, but be prudent."

" Prudence be hanged ! Are we not the strongest party here ? "

" For all that, do not run any risks. Have you taken any steps so far ? "

" And I only two days here; how could I ? "

" At least, you keep yourself concealed, I hope."

" Keep myself concealed! I should think so, mordieu f Look at my costume; am I in the habit of wearing cinnamon-colored doublets ? For no one in the world but you would I swaddle myself in these frightful duds."

" And where do you lodge ? "

" Ah! now, perhaps, you will appreciate my devotion ! I lodge — I lodge in a rickety old barracks near the rampart and overlooking the river. But now it's your turn, my prince, to answer questions. How did you get out of the Louvre ? How was it I found you on the highway, with a broken-winded horse between your legs, and M. d'Aubigne at your side ? "

" Because I have friends," said the prince.

" You — you have friends ? " said Bussy. " Oh, that ? s too good a joke ! "

" Yes, friends of whom you know nothing."

" Splendid ! — and who are those friends ? "

" The King of Navarre and M. d'Aubigne, whom you saw."

" The King of Navarre— Ah, I had forgotten. Did you not conspire together, once upon a time ? "

" I have never conspired, M. de Bussy."

" No ? You had better inquire of Coconnas and La Mole."

" La Mole," said the prince, darkly, "had committed another crime besides the one for which he was put to death."

"Well, let us leave La Mole and return to yourself, especially as it is a subject upon which we should scarcely agree. How the devil did you get out of the Louvre ? "