La Dame de Monsoreau (82 page)

When he approached — and it may be easily guessed that his approach was not slow — he noticed the dilapidated state of the wall at this particular spdt; it was not unlike a ladder, and threatened soon to become a breach; steps had apparently been hollowed out for the feet, and twigs that had been caught at and half torn away were hanging from the injured branches.

The count embraced the whole condition of things at a glance, then he examined into details.

The indiscreet animal's saddle was furnished with a saddlecloth embroidered in silver.

In one of the corners was a double FF interlacing a double AA.

Beyond a doubt, the horse came from the prince's stables, for the cipher was that of Francois d'Anjou.

At this sight the suspicion of the count changed to consternation.

The duke, then, had come to this part of the wall; he had come often, since, beside the horse tied yonder, there was another horse that knew the way.

Monsoreau arrived at the conclusion that as he was now on the track, he must follow this track to the bitter end.

The experience gained by the grand huntsman would be useful to the jealous husband.

But as long as he remained on this side of the wall it was

evident he could see nothing. So he tied up his horse near to the other, and bravely began the ascent.

It was easy enough, one foot seemed calling to the other ; there were places for the hands to rest on ; the curve of an arm was outlined on the stones on the surface of the summit, and a hunting-knife had carefully lopped off the branches of an oak that had interfered with the view and embarrassed the movements of the climber, whose efforts had been crowned with entire success.

M. ,de Monsoreau was no sooner settled in his place of observation than he perceived a blue mantilla and a black velvet cloak lying at the foot of a tree.

The mantilla undoubtedly belonged to a woman, and the black cloak to a man ; moreover, he had not to search far for the owners ; a man and a woman were walking arm in arm about fifty paces from where he stood, with their backs turned to the wall, and hidden also by the foliage of the bush.

Unluckily for M. de Monsoreau, he had not accustomed the wall to his movements, and a big stone, loosened from the coping, fell down, breaking the branches on the grass and making a loud noise.

Hearing the crash, the persons hidden from M. de Monsoreau by the bush apparently turned round and saw him, for a woman's significant cry was heard; then the rustling of the foliage told the count that they were running away like startled deer.

At the cry of the woman, drops of anguish stood on Mon-soreau's forehead. He had recognized Diane's voice. Incapable of resisting the furious impulse that hurried him on, he leaped down, and, sword in hand, sought to cut his way through the bushes and branches.

But they had vanished, nothing troubled the silence of the park; not a shadow in the depths of the avenues, not a trace on the paths, not a sound in the thickets, save the warbling of the nightingales and finches, which, accustomed to the sight of the lovers, were no longer alarmed by their presence.

What could he do in the midst of such a solitude ? What should be his resolve ? In what direction should he run ? The park was immense; he might, during his pursuit of those he sought, meet those he was not seeking.

M. de Monsoreau decided that the discovery he had made was sufficient for the moment; besides, he felt that he was too

violently excited to act with the prudence indispensably needed to be successful against a rival so formidable as Francois ; for he no longer doubted that the prince was his rival.

Then, whether it was he or not, he had to fulfil an urgent mission to the Due d'Anjou ; when he was face to face with the prince, he would know what to think of his guilt or of his innocence.

And now a sublime idea flashed through his mind.

It was to cross the wall again at the spot where he had climbed it, and carry off the horse of the intruder he had surprised in the park along with his own.

This vengeful design gave him renewed strength ; he turned and ran back to the wall, where he arrived gasping and covered with perspiration.

Then, aided by the branches, he reached the top and jumped on the other side ; but on the other side there was no horse or, rather, there were no horses.

His idea was so excellent that, before coming to him, it had come to his enemy, and his enemy had anticipated him.

M. de Monsoreau, completely crushed, uttered a howl of rage, shaking his clenched hand at the demon who must now be laughing at him in some dark recess of the wood; but his was a will not easily vanquished; he determined to withstand the fatal influences that seemed bent on successively overwhelming him; that very instant even, he set about finding his way back to Angers ; in spite of the night that was rapidly falling, he summoned up all his strength and, following a cross-road which he knew from childhood, he again entered the city.

When, after a walk of two hours and a half, he had arrived at the city gate, he was almost half-dead from thirst, heat, and weariness ; but his excitement and fury furnished him with renewed strength, and he was soon the same man he had ever been, at once violent and resolute.

Moreover he derived support from a certain thought that had entered his mind: he would question the sentry, or rather every sentry; he would go from gate to gate ; he would know by which of the gates a man had entered with two horses; he would empty his purse, would make golden promises, and would have a description of this man.

Then, no matter who this man might be, he should pay him his debt, sooner or later.

He questioned the sentry ; the sentry had only just been placed on duty and knew nothing ; he entered the guardhouse, and made inquiries there.

The soldier who had been last on guard said that about two hours before a horse without a rider had passed through the gate and had taken the road to the palace.

He had then thought some accident must have happened to his rider, and that the intelligent animal had returned to his stable of his own accord.

Monsoreau struck his forhead : it was fated that he should discover nothing.

Then he directed his steps to the ducal palace.

In the palace was great animation, great noise, and much joyous excitement; the windows shone like suns, and the kitchens gleamed like glowing ovens, sending forth odors enticing enough to make the stomach forget that it is the neighbor of the heart.

However, the wickets were closed, and there might be a difficulty in having them opened ; but have them opened he must.

He called the concierge and gave him his name; the concierge refused to recognize him.

" You were erect," said he, " and now you are bent."

" From fatigue."

" You were pale and now you are red."

" From the heat."

" You were on horseback and now you are on foot."

"Because my horse took fright, bolted, threw me, and returned without a rider."

" Ah, that is as may be," said the concierge.

" At all events, go and call the major-domo."

The concierge, delighted at seeing his way to a means of avoiding all responsibility, sent for M. Remy, who at once recognized Monsoreau.

" Good heavens ! " he exclaimed, " where have you come from that you are in such a condition ? "

Monsoreau repeated the same invention he had retailed to the concierge.

" In fact," said the major-domo, " we were very anxious when we saw the horse returning without a rider — especially monseigneur, to whom I had the honor of announcing your arrival."

" Ah! monseigneur seemed anxious ? " inquired Monsoreau.

" Very anxious, indeed."

"What did he say?"

" That you must be shown in immediately on your arrival."

" Very well; I will take time only to visit the stable and see if anything has happened to his highness's horse."'

Moiisoreau passed into the stable and found the intelligent animal in the stall he had taken him from; he was feeding like a horse that felt he must recruit his strength.

Then, without seeking to change his dress, for Monsoreau believed the importance of the news he was bringing dispensed him from observing the rules of etiquette, the grand huntsman directed his steps to the dining-room. All the prince's gentlemen, and his highness as well, gathered around a table magnificently served and lighted, were attacking the pheasent pies, broiled boar-steaks, and spiced side-dishes which they watered with the dark-colored wine of Cohors, so generous and velvety, or with the sparkling beverage of Anjou, so sweet and at the same time so treacherous that its fumes set the brain on fire before the last topaz-like drops in the glass are quaffed.

" The court is now completely full," said Antraguet, as rosy-cheeked as a young girl, and already as drunk as an old reiter, " as completely full as your highness's cellar."

"No, no," answered Ribeirac, "not so; we have no grand huntsman. It is, in truth, a shame that we should be eating your highness's dinner, and that we should have furnished no part of it ourselves."

"I vote we have some grand huntsman or other," said Livarot, "I don't care whom, even if it be M. de Monsoreau."

The duke smiled. He was the only one who knew of the count's arrival.

Livarot had hardly finished speaking and the prince smiling, when the door opened and M. de Monsoreau entered.

The duke, as soon as he perceived him, uttered an exclamation that was the more noticeable because a general silence had been the result of the grand huntsman's appearance.

"Well, here he is," said he; "you see we are specially favored by Heaven, gentlemen, since it has at once sent us what we asked for."

Monsoreau, rather put out by the prince's coolness,— a coolness not usual with him in such cases, — saluted, in an embarrassed way, and turned aside his head, as if he had been an owl suddenly transported from darkness into sunlight.

" Sit down and have your supper/' said the duke, pointing to a seat in front of him.

11 Monseigneur," answered Monsoreau, " I am very hungry, thirsty, and tired, but I will neither eat nor drink nor sit down until I have communicated to your highness a message of the highest importance."

" You come from Paris, do you not ? "

" Yes, in great haste, monseigneur."

" Well, you may speak," said the duke.

Monsoreau approached Franqois, with a smile on his lips and hate in his heart, and said, in a low tone :

" Monseigneur, the queen mother is advancing by long stages to pay a visit to your highness."

The duke, upon whom every eye was riveted, could not help looking delighted.

" It is well," he whispered, " thanks ; " then, aloud : " I find you, M. de Monsoreau, to-day as always, a faithful servant. Let us go on with our supper, gentlemen."

And he drew his chair, which he had pushed back for a moment to hear M. de Monsoreau, to the table again.

The gayety of the banquet was restored ; but the grand huntsman, who sat between Livarot and Ribeirac, as soon as he had the satisfaction of sitting in a comfortable chair, before a bounteous repast, suddenly lost all appetite.

The spirit resumed its sway over the flesh.

His mind, engrossed by sad thoughts, returned to the park of Meridor, and, making the same journey his exhausted body had just accomplished, again, like some watchful palmer, wandered along the flowery path that had conducted him to the wall.

He saw again the horse that neighed ; he saw again the broken wall ; he saw again the fleeing lovers; he heard again Diane's cry, the cry that echoed in his heart's recesses.

Then, indifferent to the noise and light and banquet, forgetful of the men beside him, forgetful of the man in front of him, he plunged into his own thoughts until his brow grew clouded and, unconsciously, he uttered a hollow groan, which at once drew to him the attention of the astonished guests.

" You are thoroughly tired out, M. le Oomte," said the prince; " I think you had better go to bed."

" Faith, yes," said Livarot, (i the advice is good, and, if you do not take it, you are pretty sure to fall asleep in your chair/'

" Excuse me, monseigneur," answered Monsoreau, " but I am exceedingly fatigued."

" Get drunk, count," said Antraguet; " nothing brightens a fellow up like that."

" And then," murmured Monsoreau, " when you are drunk, you forget."

" Pshaw ! " said Livarot; " you must be out of your senses. Look, gentlemen, he has not touched his glass ! "

" Your health, count," said Ribeirac, raising his.

Monsoreau was forced to honor the gentleman's toast, and he drank off the contents of his glass without removing it from his lips.

" Why, he can drink like a Trojan," cried Antraguet. " Look, monseigneur."

" Yes," answered the prince, who was trying to read the count's heart. " Yes, he does it very well."

" You must get up a good hunt for us, count; you know the country," said Ribeirac.

" You have horses, hounds, and woods," added Livarot.

" And even a wife," continued Antraguet.

" Yes," repeated Monsoreau, mechanically, " horses, hounds, woods, and even Madame de Monsoreau. Yes, gentlemen, yes."

" Could you start a boar for us, count, do you think ? " said the prince.

" I will try, monseigneur."

" Ah, upon my word, that ' I will try' is a nice kind of answer," said one of the Angevine gentlemen ; " why, the woods are actually swarming with boars! If I cared to hunt near the old thicket, I could raise ten of them in less than five minutes."

Monsoreau turned pale, in spite of himself; the old thicket was the very part of the wood to which Roland had led him.

" Yes, yes," cried the gentlemen in chorus, " let us have a hunt to-morrow ! "