Before I proceed farther with my own narrative, it may be as well to take a slight review of the history of the Count de Soissons, whose fate had a great effect upon the course of my whole future life. Nor is it here unworthy of remark, how strangely events are brought about by Providence, while we walk blind and darkling through this misty existence, groping our way onward on a path from which we cannot deviate. An accidental word, a casual action, will change the whole current of life, make a hermit of a monarch, and a monarch of a shepherd: as we sometimes see near the head of a stream a small hillock that a dwarf could stride turn the course of a mighty river far from the lands it flowed towards at first, and send its waters wandering over other countries to kingdoms, and oceans, and hemispheres afar.
The ancient county of Vendome was in the year 1515 erected into a duchy by Francis I., in favour of Charles de Bourbon, a direct lineal descendant from Robert Count de Clermont, fifth son of Saint Louis. Charles de Bourbon, thus Duke of Vendome, left five sons, only two of whom had children, Antoine the elder, and Louis the younger. The first, by his marriage with Jeanne d'Albret, became King of Navarre, and left one only son, who, by default of the line of Valois, succeeded to the crown of France, under the title of Henri Quatre. Louis, the younger brother, became Prince of Condé; and having been twice married, left a family by each wife. By his first marriage descended the branch of Condé, and by the second, he left one son, Charles Count de Soissons, whose son Louis is the Prince referred to in the foregoing pages.
Setting out in life with great personal activity and address, immense revenues, considerable talents, and high rank, it is little to be wondered at that the young Count de Soissons, under the management of a weak, an indulgent, and a proud mother, should grow up with the most revolting haughtiness of character. From morning till night he heard of nothing but his own praises or his own rank; and by the time he was eighteen, his pride of demeanour was so repulsive and insupportable, that it was a common saying, that "No one saw the Count de Soissons twice; for if he did not dislike them and forbid them to return, they were disgusted with him and would not go back."
But as the fault was more in his education than in his disposition, its very excess corrected itself.
He gradually found himself avoided by those whom Heaven had designed for his companions, and sometimes even deserted by his very servants; so that he was often left alone to enjoy his rank and dignity by himself. Under these circumstances he evinced qualities of mind far superior to the petty vice which shrouded it. He had equally the wisdom to see that the fault lay in himself, the judgment to discover in what that fault consisted, and the energy to conquer it entirely. Not a trace of it remained in his manners; nor did any of his actions, but upon one occasion, ever give cause to suppose that a touch of his former haughtiness rested even in the inner recesses of his heart. With a rare discrimination, also, of which few are master, in the examination to which he subjected his own character, he separated completely the good from the bad, and took the utmost care to preserve that dignity of mind which is the best preservation against base and petty vices, even while he cast from him the pride which is in itself a meanness.
Many men, in correcting themselves of the vices of a bad education, would have felt some degree of bitterness towards the person to whose weakness that education and its vices were owing; but towards his mother the Count de Soissons ever remained a pattern of filial affection, consulting her wishes and inclination on every occasion where his own honour and character were not interested in opposing her.
The consequences of the change which he had effected in himself were not long in rewarding him for the effort he had made, and in a very few years he found that affection followed him every where instead of hate. The bright qualities of his mind, and the graces of his person, shone out with a new light, like the glorious sun bursting through a cloud. He was adored by the army, loved by the people; and princes were proud to be his friends.
At this time, however, the councils of France became embarrassed and disordered; and it was difficult even to run one's course quietly through life, so many were the dangers and evils that lurked about on all sides. Every step was upon an earthquake, and few could keep their footing steadily to the end. The Cardinal de Richelieu had already snatched the reins of government from the feeble hands that should have held them, and saw before him a wide field of power and aggrandisement, with few to oppose his putting in the sickle and reaping to his heart's content. The power, the wealth, the popularity of the Count de Soissons, gave him the opportunity of so opposing, had he been so minded; and Richelieu was not a man to live in fear. He resolved, therefore, to win him, or to crush him. To win him offered most advantages, if it could be accomplished; and deeming also that it would be more easy than the other alternative, Richelieu resolved to attempt it. For this purpose he united, in one Circean cup, everything that he fancied could tempt the ambition or passions of him he sought to gain. By a confidential messenger he proposed to the Count the hand of his favourite niece, the Duchess d'Aquillon, offering as her dower an immense sum of ready money, the reversion of all his own enormous possessions, the sword of Constable of France, and what provincial government the Count might choose; and doubtless he deemed such an offer irresistible.
Not so the Count de Soissons, who conceived himself insulted by the proposal; and the only spark of his ancient haughtiness that remained breaking forth into a flame, he struck the messenger for daring to propose the hand of Marie de Vignerot, widow of a mean provincial gentleman, to a prince of the blood-royal of France.
Contemned and rejected, personal resentment became added to the other motives which urged Richelieu to the destruction of the Count de Soissons. Personal resentments never slept with him; they lived while he lived, nor were they even weakened by sickness and approaching death. No means but one existed of gratifying his animosity towards the Count de Soissons; which was, to implicate him with some of the conspiracies which were every day breaking forth against the tyranny of the government. But even this was difficult; for, though living with princely splendour, the Count continued to reside in the midst of the court, where all his actions were open, and nothing could be attributed to him on which to found an accusation. Hatred, however, is ingenious; a thousand petty vexations were heaped upon him, and, in the end, even personal insult was added, but without effect.
The Count firmly resisted all the temptations which were held out to him to sully himself with any of the intrigues of the day. The solicitations of his friends, or the persecutions of his enemies, were equally in vain; and, when human patience could no longer endure the grievances to which he was subjected at the court of France, he left it for Italy, bearing with him the love and regret of the noblest of his countrymen.
A retreat, however, which left him free, unstained, and happy, neither quieted the fears, nor appeased the hatred of Richelieu; but, forced to dissemble, he gradually appeared to abandon his evil intentions, invited the Count to return, and one by one made him such proposals as were likely to efface his former conduct, without exciting suspicion by a sudden change. The Prince was not competent to cope with so deep an adept in the art of deceit; and, though still remembering with indignation the insults that had been offered him, he suffered himself to be persuaded that they would not be repeated, and returned to the court of France.
The minister lost no time, and at length effected his object. On his return, the Count found the best laws of the state defeated, individual liberty lost, and the public good sacrificed to the particular interests of one ambitious man. Richelieu took care that a thousand new affronts should mix a full portion of personal enmity with the Count's more patriotic feelings, and in the end the prince suffered himself to be led into the conspiracy of Amiens.
The weak and fickle Duke of Orleans had been placed in command over the Count de Soissons, at the siege of Corbie; and, brought in closer union from this circumstance than they had ever been before, the two princes had various opportunities of communicating their grievances, and concerting some means of crushing the tyranny which at once affected themselves personally, and the whole kingdom. There were not wanting many to urge that the assassination of the cardinal was the only sure way of terminating his dominion; but as the consent of the Count de Soissons could never be obtained to such a measure, it was determined to arrest the minister at the council at Amiens, and submit his conduct to the judgment of a legal tribunal. The irresolution of the Duke of Orleans suspended the execution of their purpose at the moment most favourable for effecting it, and before another opportunity presented itself the conspiracy was discovered; and the Duke of Orleans fled to Blois, while Monsieur le Comte (as the Count de Soissons was usually called) retired across the country to the strong town of Sedan, the gates of which were willingly thrown open to him by the Duke of Bouillon, who, though a vassal of France, still held that important territory between Luxembourg and Champagne, in full and unlimited sovereignty.
Here the prince paused in security, well aware that Richelieu would never dare to attempt the siege of so strong a place as Sedan, while pressed on every side by the wars he himself had kindled; and here also he was, at the time of my arrival in Paris, though in a very different situation from that in which he at first stood in Sedan.[7]
The memory of what we have done, without the aid of vanity, would be little better, I believe, than a congregation of regrets. Even in the immediate review of a conversation just passed, how many things do we find which we have forgotten to say, or which might have been said better, or ought not to have been said at all! After Monsieur de Retz was gone, I looked back over the half hour he had spent with me, and instantly remembered a thousand questions which I ought to have asked him, and a thousand things on which I had better have been silent. I felt very foolish, too, on remembering that I had proposed to draw from him all his purposes; and yet that he had made himself master of the greater part of my history, while I remained as ignorant of the real object of his visit as if he had never come at all.
My resolution, however, was taken to follow his advice in the matter of going to Sedan. My reasons for so doing--or rather my motives, for reasons, nine times in ten, are out of the question in man's actions--were manifold. I despaired of finding Helen. I was a-weary of that great heap of stones called Paris, where I knew no one; and I had upon me one of those fits of impatience, which would have made me run into the very jaws of destruction to cast off the listlessness of existence.
My eyes had been fixed upon the table while making these reflections; and, on raising them, I found Achilles standing opposite to me, looking in my face with much the air of a dog who sees his master eating his dinner, and standing upon its hind-legs begs for its share too. I could as plainly read in the twinkling little grey eyes of the ci-devant player, and the lack-a-daisical expression of his mouth, "Pray let me hear the news," as if it had been written in large letters on his forehead.
"Achilles!" said I--willing to gratify him in the most unpleasant way possible--a thing one often feels inclined to do to another, after having somewhat severely schooled oneself--"Achilles, I am going to leave you."
"I beg your pardon, monseigneur," replied he, calmly, "but that is quite impossible. You can hardly go anywhere, where I will not follow you."
"But listen," rejoined I--"I am about to set off for Sedan. I ride post; and you can as much ride post as you can----"
"Ride to the devil," said Achilles, interrupting me. "I should not find that very difficult, monseigneur; but I will ride the devil himself, sooner than part with you again; so, make your noble mind up to be hunted like a stag from Paris to Sedan, unless you let me ride quietly by your side."
Though it required no augur's skill to foresee that little Achilles would prove a great incumbrance on the road, yet, as I found him so determined on going, I did not object; and bidding him prepare everything the next morning to set out as soon as I returned from the Hôtel de Retz, I went to bed and slept soundly till the dawn.
At the hour appointed, I proceeded to keep my engagement; and on entering the court of the Hôtel de Retz, I found myself suddenly immersed in all the noise and bustle of a great family's household. It put me in mind of the tales which our oldmaître d'hôtelused to tell of the Château de l'Orme, in the days which he remembered; when, as he expressed it, there were always a hundred horses in the stable, and fifty gentlemen in the hall ready to mount at a word of my grandfather's mouth, and there was nothing but jingling of spurs except when there was jingling of glasses; and the glittering of arms in the courtyard was only succeeded by glittering of knives at the table.
I was immediately shown to the apartments of the Abbé de Retz, where I found him surrounded by the servants and gentlemen of his own suite, which was numerous and splendid, in exactly the same proportion as his personal appearance was simple and unostentatious.
On my arrival, he rose and embraced me; and dismissing his attendants, presented me with two letters addressed to the Count de Soissons, which he requested me to deliver--the one from himself, the other from the Duke of Orleans. "I need not bid you be careful of them," said he, as he gave the two packets into my hands: "each of them contains as much treason as would make the executioner's axe swing merrily."
This was rather a startling piece of information; and I believe that my face, that unfaithful betrayer of secrets, showed in some degree how much heavier the letters appeared to me after I had heard such news of their contents. "You seem surprised," said De Retz; "but you have lived so far from the court that you know not what is going on there. I do not suppose that there is one man of rank besides yourself in this great city, who has not qualified himself for the Bastile, or the Place de Grève. Do you not know that everything with Frenchmen depends upon fashion? and, let me tell you, that treason is now the fashion; and that a man that could walk across the court of the Palais Cardinal, with his head steady upon his shoulders, would be looked upon by ourbelles damesas either mean-spirited or under-bred, and scouted from society accordingly."
"I am afraid that I am within the category," replied I, "for I do not know anything which should make my head tremble there, or in any other place."
"Oh, fear not! fear not!" answered Monsieur de Retz. "You will find Monsieur le Comte de Soissons surrounded by persons who will speedily put you in the way of as much treason as is necessary to good-breeding. But let them not lead you too far. Our breakfast is by this time served in my private dining-hall," he added: "I will send away the servants; and while we satisfy our hunger, I will give you so much insight into the characters of the party assembled at Sedan, as may be necessary to your safety." Thus saying, he led me to a room on the same floor, where we found a small table spread with various delicacies, and covers laid for three.
"Remove that cover," said Monsieur de Retz to one of the servants; "Monsieur de Lizieux is so much past his time that I am afraid he will not come--and now leave us!" he added; and then, as soon as the room was clear, "The truth is," said he, "I never expected the good Bishop of Lizieux, but I told the servants to place a cover for him, because he is a great friend of the Cardinal de Richelieu; and it could not get abroad that I was plotting with a stranger, when it is known that I expected the great enemy of all plots in the person of the worthy prelate." And he smiled while he told me this piece of art, piquing himself more upon such petty cunning than upon all the splendid qualities which his mind really possessed. Yet such perhaps is man's nature, valuing himself upon things that are contemptible, and very often affecting, himself, the same follies he condemns in others.
"I give you nothing but fish, you will perceive," said Monsieur de Retz, as we sat down, "this being a meagre day of our church. Though, indeed, neither the fasting nor mortification are very great, yet I always keep these fish days. It is a very reputable method of devotion, and gains friends amongst thepoissardes,--no insignificant class."
As we proceeded with our meal, he gave me the sketches he had promised. "Of Monseigneur le Duc de Bouillon," he said, "I shall say nothing, except that, being a great man and sovereign in his town of Sedan, I would advise you to show him all respect and attention; without, however, attaching yourself too strongly to what I may call his party. Near the person of the count himself, you will find Monsieur de Varicarville, a man of talent and of sense, moderate in his passions, firm in his principles, and devotedly attached to the interest of his lord. A very few days' communication with him will show you that this statement is correct; and in the meanwhile I will give you a note to him, which will lead him to open himself to you more than he would do to a stranger. Another person you will meet is Monsieur de Bardouville, a man of very good intentions, but with so muddy a brain, that whatever is placed there, good or bad, sticks so tenaciously that there is no getting it out. He has been converted to a wrong party, and does all in his power to hurry Monsieur le Comte into schemes that would prove his ruin."
"But if his intentions are so good," said I, "were it not worth while to attempt, at least, to bring him over to better opinions by reason?"
"No, no!" answered De Retz. "One makes a very foolish use of reason when one employs it on those who have none. Let him alone, Monsieur de l'Orme. The only man who ever made anything of his head, was the man that cut it in marble; and then, as Voiture said, he had better have left it alone, as the bust was not a bit softer than the original. But to proceed: take notice of Campion, one of the chief domestics of Monsieur le Comte. He is a man of great probity and sound judgment--one that you may confide in. You have nowmy opinionof the principal persons with whom you will be brought in contact, but of course you will form your own;" and drawing in his eyes, he considered me for a moment through the half-closed lids, as if he would have read in my face what impression all he had said had made upon me.
I could not help smiling, for I saw that the facility with which he had drawn my history from me the night before had given him no very high idea of my intellectual powers, and I replied, still smiling, "Of course, Monsieur de Retz, Ishallform my own opinion. I always do, of every one I meet with."
He did not well understand the smile; and, never contented unless he read all that was passing in the mind of those with whom he spoke, he opened his eyes full, and with a frank laugh asked me what I thought, then, of himself.
I have often remarked that perfect candour sometimes puts the most wily politician to fault, more than any imitation of his own doublings; and I replied at once--though I believe there was some degree of pique in my doing so too--"If you would know frankly what I think of you, Monsieur de Retz, you must hear what I think of your conduct since we first met, for that is all that I can personally judge of."
"Well, well!" replied he, "speak of that, and I will confess if you are right."
"In respect to your coming to me last night, then," replied I, "I think you had some motive of which I am not aware." A slight flush passed over his face, and then a smile, and he nodded to me to go on. "In regard to the valuable information you have given me to-day, and for which you have my thanks, I think that the cause of your giving it is something like the following:--you have some interest in the proceedings of his highness the Count de Soissons."
"None but his own, upon my honour," interrupted De Retz.
"Granted!" replied I. "Of that I do not pretend to judge; but there are evidently two parties about the prince, one urging him one way, and one another. You, Monsieur de Retz, are attached to one of these parties; and you are very glad of the opportunity of our accidental meeting, to bias me in favour of that side to which you yourself adhere, and to throw me--though a person of very little consequence--into the hands of those with whom you yourself co-operate. I doubt not," I added, with a smile and a bow, "that your opinion is perfectly correct, and that to your party I shall finally adhere, if his highness thinks fit to retain me near his person; but of course it will be the more gratifying to you to find that I embrace your opinions more from conviction than persuasion."
I am afraid my politeness had taken somewhat of a triumphant tone, upon the strength of my supposed discernment; and, even before I had done speaking, I was aware of my error, and felt that I might be making an enemy instead of securing a friend; but, as I have said, he always contrived to disappoint expectation. For a moment he looked mortified, but his face gradually resumed its good humour; and he replied with, I believe, real frankness, "Monsieur de l'Orme, you are right. I own that I have undervalued you, and you make me feel it, for that is what your conversation points at. But you must give me back that letter to Monsieur le Comte--I must not mislead him in regard to your character."
I gave him back the letter, saying, jestingly, that I should much like to see the reputation which I had acquired on a first interview, and which was doubtless there written down at full.
"Nay, nay!" replied he, tearing it, "that were useless, and perhaps worse; but you shall see what I now write, if you will, and I will write it frankly."
He accordingly led the way again to his library, where he wrote a short note to the count, which he handed to me. After a few lines of the ambiguous language in which the politicians of that day were wont to envelope their meaning, but which evidently did not at all refer to me, I found the following:--
"This letter will be delivered to your Highness by Count Louis de Bigorre, whom you have expected so long. I met with him by accident, and for a time undervalued him; but I find, upon farther knowledge, that he can see into other people's secrets better than he can conceal his own. Whether he is capable of discretion on the affairs of his friends, your highness will judge; for it does not always follow that a man who gossips of himself will gossip of his neighbours: the same vanity which prompts the one, will often prevent the other."
I do not believe that I should have been able to maintain the same appearance of good humour under Monsieur de Retz's castigation, that he had evinced under mine, had I not observed his eye fix on me as he gave me the paper, and felt certain that while I read, it was scrutinizing every change of my countenance, with the microscopic exactness of a naturalist dissecting a worm. I was upon my guard, therefore, and took care that my brow should not exhibit a cloud even as light as the shadow that skims across a summer landscape. "A fair return in kind," replied I, giving him back the letter, with as calm a smile as if I had been looking at the portrait of his mistress. "And as I shall be obliged of necessity to let Monsieur le Comte intoallmy secrets, he will be able to judge, when he comes to compare notes with you, how much your ingenuity drew from me last night, and how much my poor discretion managed to conceal."
"Excellent good!" cried De Retz, rising and taking me by the hand. "So, you would have me think that you had not told me all, my dear count; and would thus leave the devil of curiosity and the fiend of mortified vanity to tease me between them during your absence; but you are mistaken. The only use of knowing men's histories is to know their characters, and I have learned more of yours to-day than I did even last night. However, it is time for you to depart. There are the letters," he continued, after having added a few words to that addressed to the Count. "Travel as privately as you can; and fare you well. Before we meet again, we shall know enough of each other from other sources, to spare us the necessity of studying that hard book--the human mind, without a key."
I accordingly took leave of Monsieur de Retz; and in my way home, found out the dwelling of a horse-dealer, for the purpose of buying two nags for Achilles and myself; the necessity of travelling as privately as possible having induced me to change my intention of taking the post.
Though in his whole nature and character there is not, I believe, an honester animal in the world than a horse, yet there must be something assuredly in a habitual intercourse with him which is very detrimental to honesty in others, for certainly--and I believe in all ages it has been so--there cannot be conceived a race of more arrant cheats and swindlers than the whole set of jockeys, grooms, and horse-dealers. The very first attempt of the man to whom I at present applied, was to sell me an old broken-down hack, with a Roman nose which at once indicated its antiquity, for a fine, vigorous, young horse, as he called it, well capable of the road. The various ingenious tricks had been put in practice of boring his teeth, blistering his pasterns, &c., and his coat shone, as much as fine oil could make it; but still he stood forth with his original sin of old age rank about him, and I begged leave to decline the bargain, though the dealer and thepalfrenierboth shrugged their shoulders at my obstinacy, and declared upon their conscience there was not such another horse in the stable.
After several endeavours to cheat me in the same manner, which they would not abandon, or by habit could not abandon, although they saw I was somewhat knowing in the trade, I fixed upon a strong roan horse for myself, and a light easy going pad for Achilles. The question now became the price I was to pay, and after the haggling of half an hour, the dealer agreed to take forty louis for the two, which was about five more than their value. He declared, however, so help him God, that he lost by it, and only let me have them in hope of my future custom.
"I never intend to buy a horse of you again as long as I live," replied I, sharply; "so do not suffer that hope to bias you."
"Well, well, take them," said he. "They would soon eat out the money in corn, and so I should lose it any way."
This matter being settled, I directed them to be brought immediately to my lodging; making a bargain beforehand for the necessary saddles and bridles, of which the good dealer kept a store at hand; and then sped on to see that all was prepared for our departure.
It was already past mid-day; but everything having been made ready during my absence by the activity of my little attendant, as soon as the horses were brought, we loaded them with our bags and our persons, and set out for Sedan. Be it remarked, however, that I still maintained my little lodging in the Rue des Prêtres Saint Paul, as from some words dropped by the Abbé de Retz, I fancied that I might have occasion to return to Paris on the affairs of Monsieur le Comte.
The ambling jennet which I had bought for Achilles was so much easier than any horse whose back he had ever yet honoured, that the poor little man, after having anticipated the pains of hell, found himself in elysium; and declared that he could ride to Jerusalem and back without considering it a pilgrimage. I was resolved, however, to put his horsemanship to the proof; for though I did not seek to call attention to myself, by galloping like an express, in that age when even one's horse's pace was matter of suspicion, yet, as the way was long, I calculated that we might at least reach Jouarre that night.
This we accomplished easily. Stopping but half an hour at Meaux to feed our horses, and then proceeding with all speed, we saw La Ferté not far off, at about an hour before sunset, with its beautiful abbey standing out clear and rich against the evening sky; and the sweet valley of the Morin winding away in the soft obscurity of the declining light.
Turning out of one of the byroads, a horseman overtook us, and saluting us civilly, joined himself to our party. From the hint Monsieur de Retz had given me concerning the letter of the Duke of Orleans, I thought it best to avoid all communication with strangers, and therefore gave but very cold encouragement to our new companion's advances. He was a small, keen, resolute-looking little man, and not to be repulsed easily, as I very soon found; for, perceiving that I was not inclined to continue the conversation which he had commenced, he took the whole burden of it upon himself; and with a peculiar talent for hypotheses, he raised as many conjectures concerning the point to which our journey tended, and our particular object in journeying, as would have found employment for at least a hundred, if they had all been true.
I remembered that Cæsar, in some part of his Commentaries, attributes particularly to the Gauls a bad habit of stopping strangers and asking them impertinent questions; and I could not help thinking that the valiant Roman, in some of his adventures, must have met with the ancestors of our new companion. We jogged on, however, I maintaining my silence, and Achillesplayingthe stranger, as I have seen a skilful fisherman play a large trout.
When the horseman discovered that our nature was not of a very communicative quality, he seemed to think that perhaps we required him to open the way, and therefore he told us that he was going to La Ferté to buy grind-stones, and that he always lodged at the auberge of theEcu, which he begged to recommend to us as the best in the town. It was the very best, he said, beyond dispute: we should find good beds, good victuals, and good wine, all at a reasonable rate; and he farther hinted, that, if we desired such a thing, we might have the advantage of his company, to give us an account of the town, and point out to us its beauties and curiosities. Only if we desired it--he said--he was not a man to force his society upon any one!
I replied by a bow, which I intended to be very conclusive; but our new friend was not a man to be satisfied with bows, and therefore he asked straightforward whether I intended to go to theEcu. I replied that it would depend on circumstances. And as we were by this time in the town of La Ferté, no sooner did I see him draw his rein, as if about to proceed to his favourite auberge, than I drew mine the contrary way, and was galloping off, when, to my horror and astonishment, he turned after me, declaring, with a smile of patronising kindness, that I was so sweet a youth, he could not think of parting with me, and therefore, as I would not come to his auberge, he would come to mine.
The matter was now beyond endurance. "Sir!" said I, pulling in my rein, and eying him with that cold sort of contemptuous frown which I had generally found a sufficient shield against impertinence, "be so good as to pursue your own way, and allow me to pursue mine; I neither require your society, nor is it agreeable to me; and therefore I wish you good morning."
"Ho, sir--ho!" replied the stranger, "I am not a man to force my society upon any one. But you cannot prevent my going to the same inn with yourself. I read something fortunate in your countenance, and therefore I am sure that no accident will happen to me while I am under the same roof with you. The inn where you sleep will not be burnt down, thieves will not break into it, the rafters will not give way, and the walls fall in. Sir, I am a physiognomist, a chiromancer, and astrologer. I am no necromancer, however--I neither evoke spirits, nor use magic, white or black."
"No, no," replied Achilles, grinning till an improper connection seemed likely to take place between his mouth and his ears--"no, no, you may be chiromancer and astrologer, but you are no conjurer; that is clear enough."
"Silence, Achilles," cried I; "let him pursue his own follies, and follow me on." Thus saying, I rode forward, resolved rather to climb the hill to Jouarre than expose myself to encounter any more of the babbling old fool's impertinence: but this effort was as vain as the former; for, determined not to be shaken off, he kept close behind me, till we had reached the beautiful little town of Jouarre, and were safely lodged in the only auberge which it contained.
The moment after I had entered, in he marched into the kitchen; and, though the landlord treated him as a stranger, yet there was a something--I know not what--which impressed upon my mind that there was some sort of understanding between them. Odd suspicions crossed my imagination, and I resolved to be upon my guard. At the same time, I knew that too great an appearance of reserve might excite suspicion, and consequently I spoke a few quiet words to the landlord, such as a somewhat taciturn traveller might be supposed to exchange with his host on his arrival, and then went with Achilles to see that the horses were properly provided for. In regard to the stranger, he talked with every one who would talk with him, always taking care, however, to keep me and my fortunate face in sight; and, indeed, he seemed gifted with ubiquity, for no sooner did I leave him in the kitchen than I met him in the stable; and the next moment I found him again bustling about in the kitchen, ordering his supper with a tone of great authority.
For his part, the landlord, who acted also as cook, and who seemed himself stewed down to nothing from his continual commerce with stew-pans, showed the stranger a thousand times more submissive respect than to any one else, bending his elastic knees with an infinitely lower cringe when the stranger addressed him than when I did.
As soon as I had supped, we retired to our sleeping-chamber, Achilles having his allotted place in a small truckle-bed, which must have been made for him, it fitted so nicely. Before retiring to rest, however, I took care to secure the letters to the Count de Soissons under my bolster, fastening the door, which had no lock, with what was perhaps better, a large heavy bolt.
I slept soundly till the next morning, but on waking I found my poor little attendant almost speechless with fear. As soon as he could speak, however, he declared that, in the grey of the morning, he had seen a ghost glide in he knew not how, proceed to the leathern bags which contained our effects, and fumble them for a moment or two in a very mysterious manner. It then glided out, he added, just as I woke, but with so little noise, that it could not have been the cause of dissipating my slumber.
"By Heaven! it was a dangerous undertaking!" cried I in a loud voice, for the benefit of any one within hearing. "Had I chanced to wake I would have shot it, had it been the best ghost that ever was born. Examine the bags, Achilles, and see if anything has been stolen."
At the same time, I proceeded to ascertain whether the bolt had been drawn back by any contrivance from without, but all appeared as I had left it, and nothing seemed gone from the bags, so that I was obliged to conclude that either Achilles' imagination had deceived him, or that some one had gained admission into the chamber (by means I could not discover) for some other purpose than simple robbery. After the utmost scrutiny, however, I could not perceive any possible way of entering the room; and dressing myself as quickly as possible, I descended, in order to pay my reckoning, and set out immediately.
The landlord stated the sum, and I laid down the money on the table, piece by piece, which he took up in the same manner, bending his head over it till it was close to mine, when suddenly he said, in a low whisper, seeming to count the silver all the time, "You are accompanied by a spy. If you want to conceal whither you go, mount and begone with all speed, and take care of your road."
I replied nothing, but hurried the preparation of the horses as much as possible, and was in hopes of escaping before my persecutor of the night made his appearance; but just as I had my foot in the stirrup, his visage presented itself at the door, crying with the most indomptible impudence, "Wait for me! wait for me! I will not be a moment." As may be well supposed, I did not even wait to reply; but putting spurs to my horse, I set off down the hill, begging Achilles to seduce his beast into a gallop, if possible. The little man did his best; and so successful were we in our endeavours, that we soon left Jouarre far behind us: and on turning to look back on the road after half-an-hour's hard riding, I could see nothing but a blessed void, which gave me more pleasure than anything I could have beheld.
I slackened not my pace, however, but rode on towards Montmirail as fast as possible, thinking over the circumstances which had given rise to my galloping. The minister, I knew, with the jealous suspicion of usurped power, maintained a complete regiment of spies, scattered all over the kingdom, and invested with every different character and appearance which could disguise their real occupation; and I doubted not that, according to the landlord's hint at Jouarre, our talkative companion was one of this respectable troop. The character which he assumed was certainly a singular one, but it must be confessed he played it to admiration; and I congratulated myself not a little on having escaped the pursuit of such a vampire.
As I wished much to arrive at Chalons that night, we remained no longer at Montmirail than was absolutely necessary to refresh the horses; but before we arrived at Chaintrix, the ambling nag which had borne Achilles began to appear jaded; and, for fear of knocking him up altogether, I determined to halt at that little village for the night, never doubting that we had left our persecutor far behind. What was my surprise, then, on descending to the courtyard the next morning, to see the same identical little man, with his brown pourpoint, and his immense funnel-shaped riding boots, standing in the court ready to mount his horse.
I drew back instantly, hoping he had not seen me, but to see everything was a part of his profession; and quitting his horse's bridle, he ran into the house after me, pulled off his beaver with the lowest possible bow, giving me the compliments of the morning, and declaring himself the happiest man in the world to have met with me and my fortunate countenance again. "I saw your horse standing in the stable," added he, "and was resolved not to be too late to-day."
His persevering impudence was so ridiculous, that I could not help laughing; and as I saw no way of getting rid of him at the time, I resolved to tolerate him for a while, till I could find some means either of putting him on a wrong scent, or of casting him off more effectually.
"Well, then," replied I, "if you are resolved to follow my fortunate face all over the world, you will have to ride fast and far, for I am going to Metz, and am pressed for time."
"Sir," replied the stranger, "I am delighted at the opportunity of riding with you so far. If you had ever been in the East, sir, you would have no difficulty in divining my motive in accompanying you."
"Without having been in the East," I muttered to myself, "I have no difficulty in divining your motive;" but taking care not to allow him to suppose I entertained any suspicions of him, I begged he would explain how a journey to the East could have enlightened me upon such a subject.
"Why you must know, sir," replied he, "that all Oriental nations hold--and I profess myself of their opinion--that good and bad fortune are infectious; and that by keeping company with a fortunate man, we very often may mend our own luck. Now, sir, I read in your countenance that you were born under a fortunate star, and, therefore, I resolved not to leave you till I was certain I had caught something of the same."
"But I hope you are not an unfortunate man," rejoined I, "for if you are, on your own principle, you shall ride no farther with me."
"Oh no," replied the other, "my fortune is neither good nor bad; I am just in that indifferent state, wherein a man is most liable to be affected by the fortune of the company he falls into."
"Then, Lord deliver you!" said I, "for you have fallen in with one whose whole existence hitherto has been nothing but a tissue of mischances; and if I find, as I am afraid I shall, my aunt at Metz has died without making a will, my misfortunes will be complete; for I shall have hardly bread to eat, without his Eminence of Richelieu gives me a place, in recompence of a little service I once rendered him."
I tried hard to make this annunciation in as natural a tone as art could furnish me with; and I succeeded in evidently bewildering all the preconceived ideas of the spy, who, while I discharged my reckoning and mounted my horse, which was now ready, stood with his foot in the stirrup, and his face full of incertitude, not knowing whether to believe me or not.
It luckily so happened that Achilles, who stood by, was totally ignorant of what motive induced me to quit Paris; and I might, for aught he knew, have had as manyauntsat Metz as Danaüs had daughters; so that his countenance was not likely to contradict me.
The spy, however, knowing that suspicion is the best rule of action for gentlemen of his cloth under all circumstances, thought he could not do wrong in throwing his other leg over his horse's back, and following me, even at the risk of my having an aunt really dying at Metz. Accordingly, he was instantly by our side, keeping up with admirable perseverance the chattering, inquisitive character he had assumed; and never ceasing to ask one question or another, till we arrived at St. Ménéhould, where I again stopped for the night.
Wherever we had occasion to pause, even to water our horses, I observed that my new companion was evidently known, though every one affected to treat him as a stranger. Determined to get rid of him some way, from this confirmation of the suspicions I entertained respecting the honourable capacity he filled, as I was about to retire for the night, I whispered to the host of St. Ménéhould, sufficiently low to pass for a secret, yet sufficiently loud to be heard, to wake me at half-past four the next morning. After this I proceeded to my room, undressed myself, went to bed, and made Achilles extinguish the light, as if I were about to sleep soundly through the night; but I took care to abstain from closing an eye, though the temptation was very great to do so; especially as I was entertained from the bed of my little companion with a sort of music, which, however unmelodious, was very soporific.
I had previously ascertained, that at one o'clock in the morning the king's ordinary courier was expected to pass from Verdun; and, consequently, that somebody would sit up in the inn to provide for his accommodation. At midnight, therefore, I rose; and, waking Achilles, bade him dress himself, and carry down the bags, all of which we executed with the most marvellous silence, paid the landlord, who was sleeping by the fire, saddled our own horses, and very soon were far upon the road to Verdun, laughing over the surprise which our talkative companion would feel the next morning, when he woke and found us irretrievably gone. Achilles thought it a very good joke, and I a very happy deliverance; and the dawn broke and found us congratulating ourselves still: but what was my horror and surprise, when, turning my head in the grey light of the morning, I saw the brown pourpoint and the funnel-shaped riding boots, and the strong little horse, and the detestable little man, not a hundred yards behind me, cantering on as composedly as if nothing had occurred to separate him for a moment from my fortunate face, as he called it.
"Ho, ho!" cried he, as he rode up, "I am not a man to force my society upon any one; but I must say, it was a very ungentlemanlike thing to get up in the night, and leave me behind, without so much as giving me warning, or wishing me good evening; and I have ridden all this way, sir, to tell you so."
We had already passed Clermont en Argonne, and were in the heart of the wood that stretches round the village of Domballe, and which is generally called the long wood of Domballe. I knew not what might be the consequence of suffering this old man to follow me to Verdun, where it was more than probable he would meet with many persons armed with sufficient authority either to detain us, or to search our persons, should he think fit to instigate such a proceeding; but I was well aware that the life or death, the safety or destruction, of many of the first persons in the realm depended on my passing free, and, therefore, I took my determination at once. Glancing up and down the road, to see that all was clear, I suddenly turned my horse upon him, caught his bridle-rein with one hand, and his collar with the other, and attempted to pull him off his horse. But I soon found that I had to do with one who, though weak in comparison with myself, was nevertheless skilful in the management of his horse and the use of his arms.
In spite of my efforts, he contrived to bring his horse's head round, to shake off my grasp, and drawing his sword, to stand upon the defensive in so masterly a manner, that the farther attack became a matter of no small difficulty.
I was now, however, too far committed to recede; but while I considered the best means of mastering without injuring him, he seemed to think I was daunted, and cried out, in a jeering tone, "Ho, ho! your fortunate face is likely to get scratched, if you come near me. Better ride on to see your aunt at Metz; or back to Paris, and persuade the Cardinal to give you a place. See that it be not in the Bastile, though."
"Ride in, Achilles, on your side," cried I, "while I ride in on mine. Quick, we have no time to lose."
No sooner, however, did the old spy hear this order, and see it likely to be executed, than turning his horse back towards Clermont, he gave him full rein, and spurred off at all speed. This did not very well answer my purpose, and dashing my spurs into my beast's sides, I made him spring on like a deer, overtook the fugitive before he had gone twenty yards, and once more catching his collar, brought him fairly to the ground. It was no longer difficult to master his sword, and this being done, he begged most pitifully for mercy.
"Mercy you shall have," replied I; "but, by Heaven! I will no longer be teased with such detestable persecution. 'Tis insupportable, that a peaceable man cannot ride along the high road on his own affairs, without having a chattering old dotard sticking to him like a horse-leech!"
Achilles had by this time ridden up, and taking some strong cord which he happened to have with him, I pinioned the arms of my indefatigable pursuer; and, leading him a little way into the wood, I tied him tight to a tree, near a pile of faggots, which showed that the spot was so far frequented, that he would not be left many hours in such an unpleasant situation. My only object was to get rid of him; and this being effected, I again mounted my horse, and pursued my journey to Verdun, though, as I went, I could not help every now and then turning my head and looking down the road, not a little apprehensive of seeing the brown pourpoint and funnel-shaped boots pursuing me once more.
I arrived, however, unannoyed; and notwithstanding the prayers and entreaties of Achilles, that I would but stay a quarter of an hour to satisfy the cravings of an empty stomach, I instantly haled one of the flat boats that lie below the bridge. The little man judging of my intentions, spurred his horse as quick as light up to atraiteur'son the opposite side of the way; and, before I had concluded a bargain with the boatman to take us and our two horses to Sedan, he had returned with an immense roasted capon and half a yard of bread.
Once in the boat, and drifting down the Meuse, I felt myself in safety; and a full current and favourable wind bore us rapidly to Sedan.
It was night, however, before we arrived, and we found the gates closed and drawbridge raised; and all the most rigorous precautions taken to prevent the entrance of any unknown person into the town during the night.
"If you will disembark, sir," said the boatman, "and go round to the land-gate, they will soon let you in; for there are parties of fifty and sixty arriving every day; and Sedan will be too small to hold them before long. However, they refuse no one admittance, for they say the Count will soon take the field."
"Take the field!" said I, "and what for, pray?"
"Ah, that I don't know," answered the boatman; "folks say it is to dethrone the Cardinal, and make the King prime-minister."
Whether this was a jest or a blunder, I did not well know; but bidding the man put me on shore, I led out my roan, and mounting on the bank, rode round to a little hamlet which had gathered on each side of the road, at about a hundred yards from the Luxembourg gate. As I was going to inquire at one of the houses, I saw a sentinel thrown out as far as the foot of the glacis, and riding up to him, I asked if admission was to be procured that night. He replied in the affirmative, and proceeding to the gate, I was soon permitted to enter, but immediately my bridle was seized on each side by a pikeman; and the same being performed upon Achilles, we were led on to a small guard-house, where we found a sleepy officer of the watch, who asked, with a true official drawl, "Whom seek you in the good town of Sedan, and what is your business here?"
"I seek his Highness the Count de Soissons," replied I; "and my business with him is to speak on subjects that concern himself alone."
"Your name and rank?" demanded the officer.
"Louis de Bigorre, Count de l'Orme," replied I; "and this is my servant, Achilles Lefranc."
"We shall soon have need of Achilles," said the officer, grinning. "I wish, Monsieur le Comte, that you had brought a score or two such, though he seems but a little one.--Mouchard, guide these two gentlemen up to the castle. There is a pass."
There is almost always something sad and gloomy in the aspect of a strange town at night. We seem in a dark, melancholy world, where every step is amongst unknown objects, all wrapped up in a cold repulsive obscurity; and I felt like one of the spirits of the unburied, on the hopeless borders of Styx, as I walked on amidst the tall, dark houses of Sedan, which, as far as any interest that I had in them, were but so many ant-hills. Lighted by a torch that the soldier who guided us carried, and followed, as I soon perceived, by two other guards, we were conducted to the higher part of the town, where the citadel is situated; and there, after innumerable signs and countersigns, I was at last admitted within the walls, but not suffered to proceed a step in advance, till such time as my name had been sent in to the principal officer on guard.
I was thus detained half an hour, at the end of which time a page, splendidly dressed, appeared, and conducted me to the interior of the building, with a display of reverence and politeness which augured well as to my farther reception. Achilles followed along the turnings and windings of the citadel, till we came to a chamber, through the open door of which a broad light streamed out upon the night, while a hundred gay voices chattered within, mingled with the ringing, careless laugh of men who, cutting off from themselves the regrets of the past, and the fears of the future, live wise and happy in the existence of the day.
"If you will do me the honour, sir," said the page, turning to my little attendant, "to walk into that room, you will find plenty of persons who will make you welcome to Sedan, while I conduct your master to another chamber."
Achilles bowed to the ground, and answered the page in a speech compounded suddenly from twenty or thirty tragedies and comedies; and though, to confess the truth, it hung together with much the same sort of uniformity as a beggar's coat, yet the attendant seemed not only satisfied, but astonished, and made me, as master of such a learned Theban, a lower reverence than ever, while he begged me to follow him.
Meet it as one will, there is always a degree of anxiety attached to the first encounter with a person on whom our fate in any degree depends, and I caught my heart beating even as I walked forward towards the apartments of the Count de Soissons. We mounted a flight of steps, and at the top entered an antechamber, where several inferior attendants were sitting, amusing themselves at various games. In the room beyond, too, the same sort of occupation seemed fully as much in vogue; for, of twenty gentlemen that it contained, only two were engaged in conversation, with some written papers between them; while all the rest were rolling the dice, or dealing the cards, with most industrious application. Several, however, suffered their attention to be called off from the mighty interests of their game, and raising their heads, gazed at me for a moment as I passed through the room; and then addressed themselves to their cards again, with a laugh or an observation on the new-comer, which, with the irritable susceptibility of youth, I felt very well inclined to resent, if I could have found any specious plea for offence.
The page still advanced; and, throwing open a door on the other side of the room, led me through another small antechamber, only tenanted by a youth who was nodding over a book, to a door beyond, which he opened for me to pass, and left me to go in alone.
The room which I entered was a large, lofty saloon, hung with rich tapestry, and furnished with antique chairs and tables, the dark hues of which, together with the sombre aspect of the carved oak plafond, gave a gloomy air of other days to the whole scene, so that I could have fancied myself carried back to the reign of Francis I. A large lamp, containing several lights, hung by a chain from the ceiling, and immediately under this, leaning back in a capacious easy chair, sat a gentleman with a book in his hand, which he was reading, and evidently enjoying, for at the moment we entered he was laughing till the tears rolled over his cheeks. As soon as he heard a step, however, he laid down his book, and turned towards the door, struggling to compose his countenance into some degree of gravity. As I advanced, he rose and addressed me with that frank and pleasing affability which is the best and surest key to the human heart.
"Count Louis de Bigorre, I believe?" he said; "you catch me in an occupation which the proverb attributes to fools--laughing by myself; but with such a companion as Sancho Panza, one may be excused, though the same jest has made my eyes water a hundred times. However, be you most welcome, for you have been a long-expected guest at Sedan. Yet now you are arrived," he added, "however great the pleasure may be to me, perhaps it would have been better for yourself had you remained absent."
I replied, as a matter of course, that I could not conceive anything better for myself, than the honour of being attached to the Count de Soissons.
"Heaven only knows," said he, "what may be the event to you or me. But sit down, and tell me when you left Paris--whom you saw there--and what news was stirring in that great capital?"
"I have been four days on the road," replied I, bringing forward one of the smaller chairs, so as to be sufficiently near the prince to permit the conversation to flow easily, without approaching to any degree of familiar proximity. "Perhaps," I continued, "as I rode my own horses, I might not have had the honour of seeing your highness till to-morrow, had I not found it necessary to hurry forward to avoid a disagreeable companion."
"How so?" demanded the Count. "I hope no attempt was made to impede your progress hither; for if that has been the case, it is time that I should look to my communications with my other friends in France."
I gave the Count a somewhat detailed account of my adventures on the road, that he might judge what measures were necessary to insure the secrecy of his correspondence with Paris.
"So," cried he, laughing, "you have met with an old friend of ours here, Jean le Hableur, as he is called. He is one of the Cardinal's most daring and indefatigable spies; and few are there who have had address and courage enough to baffle him as you have done. He traced my poor friend Armand de Paul to the very gates of Sedan, found out that he was carrying despatches to me, filched a letter from his person containing much that should have remained secret, and having made himself acquainted with his name, laid such information against him, that Armand, at his return to Paris, was instantly arrested and thrown into the Bastile. Why, the whole country between Verdun and Paris is so famous, or rather infamous, from his continual presence, that no one here dare pass by that road for fear of meeting withJean le Hableur. You should have gone by Mezières: but where are these letters you speak of?"
I instantly produced them, and gave them into the hands of the count, who read the letter from the Duke of Orleans with a sort of smile that implied more scorn than pleasure. He then laid it down, saying aloud, with rather a bitter emphasis, "My good cousin of Orleans!" He then perused the epistle of Monsieur de Retz, and from time to time as he did so turned his eyes upon me, as if comparing the character which he therein found written down, with those ideas which he had already begun to form of me himself, from that outward semblance that almost always finds means to prejudice even the wisest and most cautious. When he had concluded, he rose and walked once or twice across the saloon, thoughtfully running his hand up and down the broad rich sword-belt which hung across his breast, which I afterwards found was habitual with him, when any consideration occupied him deeply.
I had risen when he rose, but still stood near the table, without, however, turning my eyes towards it; for the letter of the Duke of Orleans lying open upon it, I did not choose to be suspected of even wishing to know its contents.
"Sit, sit, Count Louis!" said the prince, resuming his seat, and then adding in a serious tone, but one of great kindness, "Monsieur de Retz, I find, has not made you aware of all the circumstances of my present situation; and perhaps has done wisely to leave that communication to myself. From the great friendship and esteem--I may say affection--with which my mother regards yours, I had not a moment's hesitation in saying, that if you would join me here, you should have the very first vacant post in my household, suitable to your own high rank and the antiquity of your family. Since then, the place of first gentleman of my bedchamber is void, and I have reserved it for you; but as that is a situation which brings you so near my own person, an unlimited degree of confidence is necessary between us. Your rank, your family, the high name of your father and grandfather, the admirable character which my mother attributes to yours, all seem to vouch that you are--that you must be--everything noble and estimable; but still there are two or three circumstances which you must explain to me, before I can feel justified in trusting you with that entire confidence I speak of. Monsieur de Retz says, you have given him your history, which is a strange one--though how that can be, I do not know, for you are but a young man, and can have, I should imagine, but little to tell. He says, farther, that he met with you by accident, and seems to hint that, when he did so, you had not intended to join me here, as my mother informed me you would. He insinuates, also, that you were somewhat indiscreet towards him, in speaking of your own affairs. Explain all this to me, for there is something evidently to be told. Make me your confidant without reserve, and, in return, I will confide to you secrets perhaps of greater importance. If you have nothing to tell but youthful errors, or imprudence, speak without fear, as you would to a friend and brother; but," he added more gravely, "if there is anything which affects your honour--which, I may say, I am sure there is not--I ask no confidence of the kind."
"Had your highness not required it," replied I, "I should not have presumed to intrude my private affairs upon your attention; but now that I find you, most justly, think it right to assure yourself of the character of one to whom you design the honour of being near your person, I may be permitted to express what happiness and consolation I feel, in being allowed to repose all my griefs and misfortunes in the bosom of a prince universally beloved and esteemed." When I spoke thus I did not flatter; and I concluded by giving as brief a sketch, but as accurate a one as possible, of all the events which fill the foregoing pages of these memoirs. "I will own, my lord," I added, "that I told a part of this story to Monsieur de Retz, but only a small part; and that was in a moment of joy, when, after having lived lonely and miserable in a large city, for upwards of a month, I suddenly found that I was expected and would be welcomed by a prince possessed of a treasure which few princes, I am afraid, can boast--a generous and a feeling heart. I was perhaps indiscreet in communicating even a part to any one but your Highness; but you will not find that in your service, I will be either indiscreet or unfaithful."
"I believe you," said the Count, "on my honour, I believe you; and De Retz was too hasty in even calling you indiscreet; for your conduct towards our friend Jean le Hableur proves sufficiently that you can keep counsel. Your history has interested me more than I will tell you at present. I feel for all you have suffered, and I would not for the world barter that power of feeling for others, against the most tranquil stoicism. Sympathy, however, though always agreeable to him that excites it, is little pleasing to him who feels it, without he can follow it up by some service to the person by whom it has been awakened. I will try whether that cannot be the case with you;--but you are tired with your long journey, and the night wears. Ho, without there! send Monsieur de Varicarville hither. We will talk more to-morrow, Monsieur de l'Orme, since such is the name you choose."
I rose to depart, but at the same time one of the gentlemen whom I had seen in the outer chamber, conversing while the rest were gaming, entered, and the Count introduced me to him, begging him to show me all kindness and attention, as a person whom he himself esteemed and loved.