La Dame de Monsoreau (97 page)

" Excuse me, monsieur," said Maugiron, thrusting Schoin-berg aside, who was also advancing to take part in a conversation that promised to be interesting, " it is not some thing y but some person, that M. de Quelus was alluding to."

" But if some one troubles M. de Quelus, why does he not thrust him aside in the manner you thrust some one aside just now ?"

" The very advice that I gave him, M. de Bussy, and I believe Quelus has determined to follow it," said Schomberg.

" Ah, it is you, M. de Schomberg," said Bussy, " I had not the honor of recognizing you."

" Perhaps because my face is still a little blue," said Schomberg.

" No, you are very pale, on the contrary ; I hope you are not indisposed, monsieur ? "

" Monsieur," said Schomberg, " if I am pale it is with anger."

" Ah ! really ! why, then, you must, like M. de Quelus, be also troubled by some thing or by some one ? "

" Yes, monsieur."

" He is like myself; for there is also some one that troubles me," said Maugiron.

"Always witty, my dear M. de Maugiron," said Bussy; " but, in good sooth, gentlemen, the more I look at you, the more do your dejected faces absorb my attention."

" You forget me, monsieur," said D'Epernon, planting himself haughtily in front of Bussy.

" Pardon me, M. d'Elpernon ; you were, as usual, behind the others, and I have the misfortune of knowing you so slightly that it was not for me to be the first to speak."

The position of Bussy, so careless and smiling, in the centre of those four young desperadoes whose eyes spoke with terrible eloquence, was a curious spectacle.

Not to understand their purpose, it behooved a man to be either stupid or blind.

To look as if he did not understand it, it behooved a man to be a Bussy.

He was silent for a time, with the same smile playing on his lips.

Quelus, who was the first to grow impatient, stamped on the floor and shouted :

" This must have an end ! "

Bussy raised his eyes to the ceiling and looked round.

" Monsieur," said he, " have you ever remarked what an echo there is in this hall ? The reverberations of marble walls are singularly distinct, and words become doubly sonorous under stuccoed ceilings ; while, in the open country, sounds are disseminated, and, I give you my word of honor, it is my impression that the clouds catch up a part of them. My theory is based on something in Aristophanes. Have you read Aristophanes, gentlemen ? "

Maugiron fancied that the words of Bussy contained a challenge and he went up to him and attempted to whisper something in his ear.

Bussy stopped him.

"No whisperings, I beg, monsieur/' said Bussy ; "his Majesty is very sensitive and might take it into his head we were talking scandal about him."

Maugiron withdrew, more furious than ever.

Schomberg took his place, and, said in a dogged tone:

" I am a very dull, obtuse German, but I am also very frank. I speak loud, to give those who listen every chance to hear me ; but when my words, which I try to render as distinct as possible, are not understood, because he to whom they are addressed is deaf or does not choose to understand them, then I"

" You ? " said Bussy, fastening on the young man, whose hand trembled with excitement, one of those looks that flash from the fathomless eyes of tigers; looks that seem to leap from an abyss and to emit torrents of flames. " You ? "

Schomberg stopped.

Bussy shrugged his shoulders, whirled round on his heel, and turned his back on him. f

He found himself facing D'Epernon.

D'Epernon had gone too far to be able to draw back.

" Why, gentlemen," said he, " do you notice how provincial M. de Bussy has become since he bolted with M. d'Anjou ? He has a beard and no sword-knot, black boots and a gray hat!"

" The very thing I was thinking myself, my dear M. d'Epernon. When I saw you in such splendid attire, I wondered at the depths into which a few days' absence will force a man to descend. Now, here am I, — I, Louis de Bussy, Seigneur de Clermont, — compelled to take lessons in taste from a little Gascon squire. But let me pass, I entreat. You are so close to me that you have trodden on my toes — and M. de Quelus has done so also; I felt the pressure in spite of my boots," he added, with his charming smile.

Thereupon, Bussy, passing between D'Epernon and Quelus, held out his hand to Saint-Luc, who had just entered.

The hand Saint-Luc grasped was dripping with perspiration.

He saw that something out of the way was happening, and drew Bussy out of the group and then out of the hall.

A strange murmur rose among the minions and spread to the other groups of courtiers.

" It 's incredible," said Quelus, " I insulted him, and he did not answer ! "

" And I," said Maugiron, " challenged him, and he did not answer!"

" And I," said Schomberg, " shook my fist in his face, and he did not answer ! "

" And I," said D'Epernon, " trod on his toes, yes, actually trod 6n his toes, and he did not answer ! "

And he looked as if the size of the foot he trod on added to his own stature.

"Clearly, he did not want to understand," said Quelus. " There is something underneath this."

" I know what it is, yes I do ! " said Schomberg, — " know for sure !"

" And what is it, then ? "

" He knew that we four could kill him, and he does n't like being killed."

At that moment the King approached his young gentlemen, Chicot whispering in his ear.

" Well ? " he asked ; " what was M. de Bussy saying ? I thought I heard some rather loud talk in this quarter."

" You would like to know what M. de Bussy was saying, sire ? " inquired D'Epernon.

"Yes, you are aware I am just a little inquisitive," replied Henri, with a smile.

" Upon my faith, sire, he said nothing to brag about," answered Quelus. " Sire, he is no longer a Parisian! "

" And what is he, then ? "

""A clown. He steps aside to let his betters pass."

" Oh ! nonsense !" returned the King; " Avhat does that mean ? "

" It means I am going to train a dog to bite his calves," answered Quelus ; " and yet — who knows ? — likely enough he won't feel it through his boots."

" And I have a quintain at home," said Schomberg, " I think I '11 call it Bussy."

"And I'll go a little farther," said D'Epernon. " To-day I trod on his toes, to-morrow I'll slap his face. He is a sham hero, a hero in his own conceit; he says to himself, < I have

fought for the sake of honor; now I'll be prudent for the sake of life.'' ;

" What! " cried Henri, in pretended anger, " you have dared to ill use one of my brother's gentlemen in the very Louvre, in my own house ? "

"Alas! yes," answered Maugiron, replying with affected humility to the King's affected indignation, " and although we have ill used him very seriously, I give you my solemn word he never answered."

The King turned to Chicot, with a smile, and whispered in his ear:

" Still bellowing, are they, Chicot, eh ? Hem ! I think they have roared to some purpose, eh ? "

"Or, perhaps, they have mewed," said Chicot. "I am acquainted with people who will shiver like an aspen when they hear your pussy's caterwaulings. Perhaps M. de Bussy is one of them. And now you know why he left without answering."

" You think so ? " said the King.

"Those who live will see," answered Chicot, sententiously.

" Talk away," said Henri; " it's a case of ( like master, like man.''

" Do you mean by these words, sire, that Bussy is your brother's serving-man ? You were never more mistaken in your life."

" Gentlemen," said Henri, " I am going to dine in the Queen's apartments. Good-by. The Gelosi 1 will play a farce for our amusement. I invite you to see it."

The courtiers inclined respectfully, and the King passed out through the great door.

At that very moment Saint-Luc entered through the little door.

He stopped with a gesture the four gentlemen, who were also going out.

" I beg your pardon, M. de Quelus," said he, with a bow, " are you still living in the Rue Sainte-Honore ? "

" Yes, my dear friend, why do you ask ? " inquired Quelus.

" I have a few words to say to you."

"Ah! indeed!"

" Might I venture to ask what is your address also, M. de Schomberg ? " '

1 Italian actors who gave their performances in the Hotel de Bourgogne.

" I live in the Rue de Bethisy," said Schomberg, astonished.

" D'%>ernon, I know yours, I think."

" Rue de Crenelle."

" You are my neighbor — And you, Maugiron ? "

" I live in the Louvre quarter/'

" I shall begin with you, if you will permit me — or — excuse me — with Quelus."

" I have it ! at least, I think I understand. You come on the part of M. de Bussy ? "

" I 'need not say on whose part I have come; I have to speak with you, that is all."

" With the whole four of us ? "

« Yes."

" Very well. But as you may not wish to speak with us in the Louvre, and I presume you do not care to do so, as it is hardly the proper place to discuss such matters, we had better assemble in one of our houses. There we can all learn what you have to say to each of us individually."

" I am satisfied."

" Then, let us go to Schomberg's ; it is within a few yards of us."

" Yes, let us go to my house in the Rue de Bethisy," said the young man.

"Very well," answered Saint-Luc, with another bow. "Please show us the way, M. de Schomberg."

" With great pleasure."

The five gentlemen passed out of the Louvre, arm in arm, and formed a line which occupied the entire width of the street.

Behind them marched their lackeys armed to the teeth.

When they reached the Rue de Bethisy and entered the Hotel de Schomberg, the German went upstairs to see that the grand drawing-room was prepared for their reception. Saint-Luc stopped in the antechamber.

G60 LA DAME DE MONSOREAU.

CHAPTER LXXVII.

HOW M. DE SAINT-LUC FULFILLED THE COMMISSION GIVEN HIM BY BUSSY.

LET us leave Saint-Luc for a moment in Schomberg's antechamber, and turn our attention to what had passed between him and Bussy.

Bussy had, as we have already mentioned, left the audience chamber with his friend, after bowing courteously to all those who were not inclined to curry favor with the King at the expense of arousing the anger of so redoubtable a personage as the valiant count.

In that age of brutal force, when personal efficiency was everything, a man, if he were vigorous and adroit, could carve a little moral and physical realm for himself out of this fair realm of'France.

And so, after a fashion, Bussy was a king in the court of King Henry III.

But on the day in question, Bussy had not been very well received in his kingdom.

Once outside the hall, Saint-Luc had halted and looked anxiously at his face.

" Are you really ill, my friend ?" he asked. "In fact, you are so pale that you look as if you were ready to faint."

" No/ 7 said Bussy, " but I am fairly stifling with anger."

" Oh, nonsense. Surely you don't mind the gabble of those coxcombs ? "

" Corbleu ! my dear friend, you '11 soon see whether I mind it or not."

" Come, come, now, Bussy, be calm."

" You are a nice fellow to talk of calmness. If they had said to you the half of what they said to me, I think, from what I know of you, there would be at least one dead man lying round somewhere by this time."

" Well, what do you desire ? "

" You are my friend, Saint-Luc, and have given me a terrible proof of your friendship."

" Ah! my dear friend," said Saint-Luc, who believed Mon-soreau dead and buried, " the affair is n't worth talking about;

why speak of it, then ? Don't, or you '11 vex me. Certainly, it was a pretty little lunge, and succeeded to a marvel. But I don't deserve any credit; it was the King showed it to me during the time he kept me locked up in the Louvre."

" My dear friend "

" Let us leave Monsoreau where he is and talk of Diane. Did she take it in good part, the poor little dear ? Has she pardoned me ? When will the wedding be ? and when will the christening be ? "

" Ah ! my good friend, we must wait for all that until Monsoreau is dead."

" What do you mean ? " cried Saint-Luc, starting back as if he had trodden on a pointed nail.

" Alas ! my dear friend, beds of poppies are not so dangerous as you once believed, and a person does not always die when he falls 011 top of one of them. On the contrary, the person in question lives, and is madder than ever."

" Bah! you 're not serious ? "

" Serious! Heavens ! don't I wish I weren't! He talks of nothing but vengeance, and swears to kill you on the first opportunity. That's how the matter stands at present."

« He lives ? "

" Alas ! yes."

" And what confounded ass of a doctor attended him ? "

" My own doctor, dear friend."

" Heavens and earth ! I '11 never get over it!" cried Saint-Luc, utterly crushed by this revelation. " Zounds, man, I 'm dishonored forever ! And I told everybody about it! and all his heirs are no doubt now wearing mourning ! The rascal ! to give me the lie in this fashion ! But I won't stand it. I '11 catch on to him somewhere, and at our next meeting it is n't one hole I '11 make in him — four, if necessary."

" Pray, be calm, my dear Saint-Luc," said Bussy, " it 's your turn now to receive a little advice. Really, I am better off than you imagine. Only think of it! Monsoreau fancies it was the duke that sent you to make away with him; and so it is of the duke he is jealous. On the other hand, I am an angel, a precious friend, a Bayard. I am his < dear Bussy,' in a word. Quite natural, you see, for it was that dunderhead of a Eemy that cured him."