La Dame de Monsoreau (91 page)

Monsoreau fainted, but Remy was not disturbed by this weakness.

" Ah, that is well: syncope, low pulse, quite natural." .He felt the hands and legs : " the extremities cold." He applied his ear to the chest : " absence of noisy respiration. The devil! I 'in afraid Madame de Monsoreau won't be a widow long."

At this moment a slight reddish foam bathed the wounded man's lips.

Remy quickly drew a surgeon's case from his pocket and took out a lancet ; then he tore off a strip from his patient's shirt and bound it round his arm.

" Now we '11 see," said he to himself. " If the blood flow, by my faith, it 's unlikely that Madame Diane will be a widow ; but if it do not flow - Ah ! ah ! it flows, egad! Forgive me, dear M. de Bussy, forgive me ; but, faith, a doctor is a doctor before everything."

The blood, in fact, after, so to speak, hesitating for an instant, had spurted freely from the vein ; and, almost at the same moment, the wounded man breathed and opened his eyes.

" Ah ! " he stammered, " I thought all was over."

" Not yet, my dear monsieur, not yet; it is even possible"—

« That I may recover ? "

" Mercy on us, yes ! But let me first close the wound. Keep quiet 5 don't stir. You see, nature, at this moment, is

caring for you within, just as I am caring for you on the outside. I make the blood flow j she stops it. Ah ! nature is a great surgeon, my dear monsieur, — stay, let me wipe your lips."

And Remy passed a pocket handkerchief over the lips of the count.

" At first,." said his patient, " I spat out a mouthful of blood."

" Well, you see now," answered Remy, " that the haemorrhage is already arrested. Capital! So much the better — or rather, so much the worse ! "

" What! so much the worse ! "

" So much the better for you, certainly ; but so much the worse ! I know what I mean. My dear M. de Monsoreau, I 'm afraid I 'm going to have the happiness of curing you."

" How is that ? You are afraid ? "

" Yes, I know what I am saying."

" You think, then, I shall recover ? "

'i Alas! "

" You are a rather strange sort of doctor, M. Remy."

"What does that matter to you, if I save you. Now, let me see "

Remy had just stopped the bleeding. He rose.

" You are not going to forsake me now ? " said the count.

" Ah! you talk too much, my dear monsieur. Too much talking is hurtful. If that were the case," muttered Le Haudouin to himself, " I should rather advise him to cry aloud."

" I do not understand you."

" That's lucky. Now your wound is dressed."

« Well ? "

"Well, I am going to the castle to fetch help."

" And what am I to do during the time ? "

" Keep quiet, do not stir, breathe very gently, and try to avoid coughing. Which is the nearest house ? "

" The Castle of Meridor."

" How do you go there ? " asked Remy, affecting the most profound ignorance.

" You can climb over the wall, and then you will be in the park ; or you can follow the park wall until you come to the gate."

" Very well ; so I am off."

" Thanks, generous man ! "

u If-you knew how exceeding generous I am/' stammered Remy, " you would be even more thankful still."

And, mounting his horse, he galloped in the direction pointed out by the count.

In about five minutes he was at the castle; all its tenants, as bustling and excited as ants whose dwelling has been violated, were searching thickets, clearings, every sort of out of the way place, for the body of their master, but, so far, 4n vain. This was the fault of Saint-Luc who, to gain time, had left directions that led them astray.

Remy fell among them like a thunderbolt and carried them off with him.

He was so eager to bring them to the rescue that Madame de Monsoreau could not help staring at him in wonder.

A secret, almost imperceptible thought crossed her mind, and in a second had tarnished the angelic purity of her soul.

" And I thought he was Bussy's friend ! " she murmured, as Remy disappeared, taking with him a handbarrow, lint, fresh water, and, in fact, all that was needed in the circumstances.

^Esculapius himself could not have used his divine wings to better purpose than Remy used his legs.

CHAPTER LXX.

HOW THE DUC D'ANJOU WENT TO MERIDOR TO CONGRATULATE MADAME DE MONSOREAU ON THE DEATH OF HER HUSBAND, AND HOW HE WAS RECEIVED BY M. DE MONSOREAU.

As soon as the Due d'Anjou had broken off his conversation with his mother, he hurried away in search of Bussy; he was eager to find out the reason for the astounding change in the count's opinions.

Bussy had gone to his lodgings and was there reading Saint-Luc's letter the fifth time, every line making a more and more pleasant impression on him after every reading.

Catharine, too, had retired to her apartments, had summoned her attendants thither, and ordered them to have everything in readiness for her departure, which she believed

she could arrange for the next day, or for the day after, at the latest.

Bussy received the prince with a charming smile.

" What, monseigneur," said he, " your highness deigns to visit my humble house ? "

" Yes, mordien ! " answered the duke, " and I have come to ask you for an explanation."

" An explanation from me ? "

" Yes, from you."

" I listen, monseigneur."

" How is this ? " cried the duke ; " you bid me to be armed from top to toe, so as to be proof against the demands of my mother, and to support the attack valiantly; I do so, and in the very heat of battle, at the very moment when every blow has failed to move me, you come and say : ' take off your armor, monseigneur, take it off.' ' ;

" The advice I gave you, monseigneur, was entirely due to the fact that I was ignorant of the purpose of Madame Catharine's visit. Now that I see she has come to advance your highness's glory and honor "

" Advance my glory and honor! Well, that was the very subject I was to have your opinion on. What do you think of the business ? "

" Well, what does your highness want ? Let us look at the matter calmly. You want to triumph over your enemies, do you not ? I do not, like certain persons, imagine that you want to become king of France."

The duke looked at Bussy sourly.

" There may be some who would advise you to try to do so, but, believe me, they are your worst enemies. If they are resolute and obstinate in this notion of theirs and you cannot get rid of them, send them to me j I will show them how absurd they are."

The duke frowned.

" Besides, examine into the matter yourself, monseigneur," continued Bussy, " fathom your own heart, as, I think, the Bible says; have you a hundred thousand men, ten million of livres, alliances with foreign powers, and, above all, would you turn against your King ? "

" My King was not at all backward in turning against me," said the duke.

" Oh, if you take that ground, you are in the right. Well,

then, put forward your claims, get yourself crowned, and assume the title of king of France. Nothing could please me better than your success, for, if you grow great, I grow great along with you."

" Who talks of being king of France ? " retorted the prince, bitterly. " You are discussing a question I have never asked any one to answer, not even myself."

" Well, then, that point is settled, monseigneur, and there is no dispute between us, since we are agreed on the main subject,"

" We are agreed, you say ? "

" At least, so it seems to me. Make them give you a guard and five hundred thousand livres. Before peace is signed, demand a subsidy from Anjou to carry on the war. Once you have it, you can keep it, it does n't bind you to anything. In this fashion, we shall have men, money, power, and we shall go — God knows where ! "

" But once in Paris, once they have got hold of me, once they have me in their clutches, they can laugh at me."

" Oh, nonsense, monseigneur ! Surely you have no such idea in your mind as that! Laugh at you, indeed ! Did you not hear the queen mother's offer ? "

" She offered a good many things."

" I understand; and that is what alarms you ? "

« Yes."

" But, among them, she offered you a company of guards, though even that company were to be commanded by M. de Bussy."

" Undoubtedly, that was one of her offers."

" Then take my advice, accept; appoint Bussy your captain ; Antraguet and Livarot your lieutenants ; Kibeirac ensign. Give the four of us full liberty to make up the company just as we see fit ; and then, take my word for it, with this escort at your heels, I 'd like to see the man would laugh at you or fail to salute you as you pass, though he were the King himself."

" By my faith, I believe you 're right, Bussy. I '11 think of it."

" Yes, think of it, monseigneur."

" Of course. But, by the way, what was that you were reading so attentively when I entered ? "

" Ah ! excuse me, I was forgetting, — a letter."

" A letter ? "

" Which must have as much interest for you as for me; what the devil was I thinking of not to show it to you at once ! "

" It'contains important news, then ? "

" Great heavens ! yes, and sad news as well. M. de Monso-reau is dead! "

" What 's that you say ? " cried the duke, starting back in amazement, though Bussy, who had his eyes fixed on the prince, fancied that he was quite as much delighted as surprised.

" He is dead, monseigneur."

" Dead ! M. de Monsoreau ? "

" Why, dear me, yes! are n't we all mortal ? "

" Yes, but a person does n't die suddenly like that."

" That depends. Supposing you ? re killed ? "

« Was he killed, then ? "

" It would seem so."

" By whom ?"

" By Saint-Luc, with whom he had a quarrel."

" Ah ! dear Saint-Luc ! " cried the prince.

" Hold! " said Bussy. " I was not aware that you and ' dear Saint-Luc ' were such good friends."

" Saint-Luc is my brother's friend, and, now that we are reconciled, my brother's friends are mine," answered the duke.

" Capital! " said Bussy. " I am delighted, monseigneur, to find you in such an admirable frame of mind."

" And you are sure "

" Faith, as sure as I can very well be so far. Here is Saint-Luc's note informing me of his death; but as I am as incredulous as you are and not at all certain yet, I have sent my surgeon Kemy to find out if the news be true, and, in case it is, to assure the old baron that I sympathize with his grief."

" Dead ! Monsoreau dead ! " repeated the Due d'Anjou ; "and died quite alone!"

The words escaped him unwittingly, just as dear Saint-Luc had escaped him. The unpremeditated naturalness of both exclamations was frightful.

" He did not die quite alone," said Bussy, " since Saint-Luc, who killed him, must have been with him."

" Oh, I know what I 'm saying," answered the duke.

" Did your highness, might I ask, give orders to some one else to kill him ? " inquired Bussy.

" No, upon my faith ; did you ? "

" I! Oh, monseigneur, I am not a great prince and cannot have that sort of job done for me by others; I am obliged to attend to such things myself."

" Ah! Monsoreau, Monsoreau ! " muttered the prince, with his appalling smile.

" I say, monseigneur ! it really looks as if you hated this poor count."

" No, it was you that hated him."

" Oh, it was quite natural I should hate him," said Bussy, who could not keep from blushing. " Have I not to thank him for the terrible humiliation your highness inflicted on me ? "

" So you still remember that ? "

" Good heavens ! no, monseigneur, as you can see for yourself ; but you, whose servant, friend, and creature "

" Enough," said the prince, interrupting a conversation that threatened to become embarrassing ; " order my horses to be saddled, Bussy."

" Your horses to be saddled, and why ? "

" To go to Meridor ; I wish to condole with Madame Diane on her loss. Besides, I have been intending to visit the family fpr some time, and I really do not know why I have not done so before ; but I am determined not to delay any longer. Corbleu ! I am not aware of any cause for it, but I never felt so much in the vein for paying compliments as I do to-day."

" By my soul," said Bussy to himself, " now that Monsoreau is dead and I have no longer any fear that he '11 sell his wife to the duke, it don't much matter whether he see her again or not. If he attack her I will defend her, and that, too, without h-lp from others. And, since this gives me an opportunity of seeing her again also, I don't see why I should n't profit by it."

And he went out to order the horses to be saddled.

A quarter of an hour later, while Catharine was sleeping, or pretending to sleep, with the object of recovering her strength after the fatigue of her journey, the prince, Bussy and ten gentlemen, mounted on fine horses, were riding to Meridor, all as light-hearted as youth, fine weather, and a stretch of flower-enamelled turf could render men as well as horses.

At sight of this magnificent cavalcade the porter of the castle came as far as the fosse to ask the visitors' names.

" The Due d'Anjou! " cried the prince.

At once the porter seized a horn and blew a blast that brought all the servants running to the drawbridge.

There was soon heard the sound of steps hurrying to and fro and up and down in the halls and corridors and on the stairs ; windows were opened; there was the noise of bolts and bars as the doors were unfastened, and the old baron appeared on the threshold, with the keys of his castle in his hand.

" It is wonderful how little Monsoreau is regretted ! " said the duke ; " see, Bussy, all those people look as if nothing had happened."

A woman appeared on the steps.

" Ah ! the beautiful Diane!" cried the duke ; " are you looking, Bussy, are you looking ? "

" Yes, I see her, monseigneur," answered the young man; " but," he added, in a low voice, " I don't see Reiny."

Diane came outside the house, and, immediately behind her, came a litter in which lay Monsoreau, his eyes burning with fever or with jealousy ; he was more like some Indian sultan on his palanquin than a corpse on his bier.

" Oh ! ha! what does this mean ? " cried the duke, addressing his companion, who had turned whiter than the handkerchief with which he was trying to conceal his emotion.

" Long live the Due d'Anjou ! " said Monsoreau, contriving by a violent effort to raise and wave his hand.

" Gently," said a voice behind him, "you will do yourself an injury."

It was Remy, who, faithful to his duty as a doctor, was giving this prudent warning to his patient.

Astonishment does not last long among courtiers — on their faces, at least. The Due d'Anjou at once took measures to dispel this general stupefaction and to substitute smiles in its place.

" Oh ! my dear count," he cried, " what a happy surprise! Do you know, we were told you were dead ? "

" Pray, come near me, your highness," said the wounded man, "let me kiss your highness's hand. Thank God! not only am I not dead, but I shall live, I hope, to serve you with more ardor and fidelity than ever."

As for Bussy, who was neither prince nor husband, two social positions in which dissimulation is absolutely necessary, a cold perspiration bathed his temples ; he did not dare to look at Diane.

To see the treasure he had twice lost so near its owner made him feel sick.

" And you, M. de Bussy, who have come with his highness, will do me the favor to accept my sincerest thanks, for it is to you that I am almost wholly indebted for my life."

" What ! to me ! " stammered the young man, believing that the count was mocking him.

" Undoubtedly, though, it is true, indirectly; but my gratitude is not lessened by that. Ah! here is my saviour," he added, pointing to Remy, who lifted his hands to heaven in despair and would gladly have sunk into the bowels of the earth. " My friends may thank him for having me still with them."

And, despite the signals made by the poor doctor for him to keep silent, signals he mistook for hygienic cautions, he lauded in the strongest terms the care, skill, and zeal lavished on him by Le Haudouin.

The duke's face grew dark, and the look that Bussy fastened on Remy was terrible.

The poor fellow, half hidden behind Monsoreau, only answered with a gesture which meant:

" Alas ! it is not my fault."

" By the way," continued the count, " I understand that Remy found you dying on a certain day just as he found me. It is a bond of friendship between us, and you may rely on mine, M. de Bussy. When Monsoreau loves, he loves in good earnest; it is true that his hate is somewhat like his love, for when he hates, he hates heartily also."

Bussy thought he noticed that the flash that shot from the count's inflamed eyes, while uttering the last sentence, was aimed at the Due d'Anjou.

The duke saw nothing.

" Come, then," said he, alighting from his horse and offering his hand to Diane, " have the goodness to do us the honors of your house, which we expected to find in mourning, but which, fortunately, continues to be the abode of happiness and bliss. As for you Monsoreau, rest; rest is absolutely necessary to the wounded."

" Monseigneur," said the count, " it shall never be said that while Monsoreau was alive he allowed any one but himself to do the honors of his house to your highness. My servants will carry me, and, wherever you go, I shall follow."

It really looked as if the duke had discovered the real thoughts of Monsoreau, for he suddenly dropped Diane's hand.

Then Monsoreau breathed freely.

" Go up to her," whispered Remy in Bussy's ear.

Bussy approached Diane, and Monsoreau smiled on them both. Bussy took Diane's hand, and Monsoreau smiled again.

" This is a change indeed, M. le Comte," said Diane, in an undertone.

" Alas ! " murmured Bussy, " why is it not greater ? "

It is needless to state that the baron displayed all the pomp of his patriarchal hospitality toward the prince and the gentlemen who attended him.

CHAPTER LXXI.

THE INCONVENIENCE OF LITTERS THAT ARE TOO WIDE AND DOORS THAT ARE TOO NARROW.

BUSSY remained by Diane's side ; Monsoreau's benevolent smiles gave him an advantage which he was the last person in the world not to turn to account.

As jealous husbands are not sparing of hard knocks in defence of their property, they are not spared, either, when once the poachers get a foothold on their lands.

" Madame," said Bussy to Diane, " I am, in truth, the most miserable of men. On the news of his death I advised the prince to come to terms with his mother and return to Paris ; he consented, and now you remain in Anjou."

" Oh! Louis," answered the young woman, smiling as she took his hand in her slender fingers, " how dare you say we are unfortunate ? Do you forget all our happy days, all the ineffable delights the memory of which thrills my heart with ecstasy; do you forget them, then ? "

" I forget nothing, madame; on the contrary, I only remember them too well, and that is why the loss of such bliss causes me such pangs. Think of it, madame! to return to Paris and live three hundred miles away from you! My heart is breaking, Diane, and I feel utterly forlorn."

Diane looked at Bussy ; she saw such sorrow in his eyes that she dropped hers and began to reflect.

The young man waited a moment, gazing at her imploringly and with his hands clasped in entreaty.

" Well ! " cried Diane, suddenly; " you will go to Paris, Louis, and I intend going also."

" What! " exclaimed the young man, " leave M. de Monso-reau! "

" Though I should leave him." answered Diane, " he would not leave me. No, Louis, believe me, it is much better he should come with us."

" Wounded, ill as he is ; impossible !"

" He will come, I tell you."

And dropping Bussy's arm, she approached the prince ; he was answering some questions of Monsoreau in a very surly manner ; Bibeirac. Antraguet, and Livarot were with him and standing round the litter.

At sight of Diane, the count's face brightened ; but his cheerfulness did not last long; it passed as rapidly as a gleam of sunshine between two storms.

When Diane came up close to the duke, the count frowned.