CHAPTER XI.
M. BRYAN DE MONSOREAU.
It was more than joy, it was almost delirium, which agitatedBussy when he had acquired the certainty that the lady of hisdream was a reality, and had, in fact, given him that generoushospitality of which he had preserved the vague remembrance inhis heart. He would not let the young doctor go, but, dirty ashe was, made him get into the litter with him; he feared that ifhe lost sight of him, he too would vanish like a dream. He wouldhave liked to talk all night of the unknown lady, and explainto Remy how superior she was even to her portrait; but Remy,beginning his functions at once, insisted that he should go tobed: fatigue and pain gave the same counsel and these unitedpowers carried the point.
The next day, on awaking, he found Remy at his bedside. The youngman could hardly believe in his good fortune, and wanted to seeBussy again to be sure of it.
"Well!" said he, "how are you, M. le Comte?"
"Quite well, my dear Esculapius; and you, are you satisfied?"
"So satisfied, my generous protector, that I would not changeplaces with the king. But I now must see the wound."
"Look." And Bussy turned round for the young surgeon to takeoff the bandage. All looked well; the wound was nearly closed.Bussy, quite happy, had slept well, and sleep and happiness hadaided the doctor.
"Well," said Bussy, "what do you say?"
"I dare not tell you that you are nearly well, for fear you shouldsend me back to the Rue Beauheillis, five hundred paces fromthe famous house."
"Which we will find, will we not, Remy?"
"I should think so."
"Well, my friend, look on yourself as one of the house, and to-day,while you move your things, let me go to the fete of the installationof the new chief huntsman."
"Ah! you want to commit follies already."
"No, I promise to be very reasonable."
"But you must ride."
"It is necessary."
"Have you a horse with an easy pace?
"I have four to choose from."
"Well, take for to-day the one you would choose for the lady ofthe portrait you know."
"Know! Ah, Remy, you have found the way to my heart forever; Ifeared you would prevent me from going to this chase, or ratherthis imitation of one, and all the ladies of the Court, and manyfrom the City, will be admitted to it. Now, Remy, this lady may bethere. She certainly is not a simple bourgeoise--those tapestries,that bed, so much luxury as well as good taste, show a woman ofquality, or, at least, a rich one. If I were to meet her there!"
"All is possible," replied Remy, philosophically.
"Except to find the house," sighed Bussy. "Or to penetrate whenwe have found it."
"Oh! I have a method."
"What is it?"
"Get another sword wound."
"Good; that gives me the hope that you will keep me."
"Be easy, I feel as if I had known you for twenty years, and couldnot do without you."
The handsome face of the young doctor grew radiant with joy.
"Well, then," said he, "it is decided; you go to the chase tolook for the lady, and I go to look for the house."
"It will be curious if we each succeed."
There had been a great chase commanded in the Bois de Vincennes,for M. de Monsoreau to enter on his functions of chief huntsman.Most people had believed, from the scene of the day before, thatthe king would not attend, and much astonishment was expressedwhen it was announced that he had set off with his brother andall the court. The rendezvous was at the Point St. Louis. It wasthus they named a cross-road where the martyr king used to situnder an oak-tree and administer justice. Everyone was thereforeassembled here at nine o'clock, when the new officer, object ofthe general curiosity, unknown as he was to almost everyone,appeared on a magnificent black horse. All eyes turned towardshim.
He was a man about thirty-five, tall, marked by the smallpox,and with a disagreeable expression. Dressed in a jacket of greencloth braided with silver, with a silver shoulder belt, on whichthe king's arms were embroidered in gold; on his head a cap witha long plume; in his left hand a spear, and in his right theestortuaire [Footnote: The estortuaire was a stick, which thechief huntsman presented to the king, to put aside the branchesof the trees when he was going at full gallop.] destined forthe king, M. de Monsoreau might look like a terrible warrior,but not certainly like a handsome cavalier.
"Fie! what an ugly figure you have brought us, monseigneur,"said Bussy, to the Duc d'Anjou, "are these the sort of gentlementhat your favor seeks for out of the provinces? Certainly, onecould hardly find such in Paris, which is nevertheless as wellstocked with ugliness. They say that your highness made a greatpoint of the king's appointing this man."
"M. de Monsoreau has served me well, and I recompense him," repliedthe duke.
"Well said, monseigneur, it is rare for princes to be grateful;but if that be all, I also have served you well, and should wearthe embroidered jacket more gracefully, I trust, than M. deMonsoreau. He has a red beard, I see also, which is an additionalbeauty."
"I never knew that a man must be an Apollo, or Antinous, to fillan office at court."
"You never heard it; astonishing!"
"I consult the heart and not the face--the services rendered andpromised."
"Your highness will say I am very envious; but I search, anduselessly, I confess, to discover what service this Monsoreaucan have rendered you."
"You are too curious, Bussy," said the duke, angrily.
"Just like princes," cried Bussy, with his ordinary freedom,"they ask you everything; but if you ask a question in return,you are too curious."
"Well! go and ask M. de Monsoreau, himself."
"Ah! you are right. He is but a simple gentleman, and if he donot reply, I shall know what to say."
"What?"
"Tell him he is impertinent." And, turning from the prince, Bussyapproached M. de Monsoreau, who was in the midst of the circle.
Bussy approached, gay and smiling, and his hat in his hand.
"Pardon, monsieur, but you seem all alone. Is it that the favorwhich you enjoy has already made you enemies?"
"I do not know, monsieur, but it is probable. But, may I ask,to what I owe the honor that you do me in invading my solitude?"
"Ma foi, to the great admiration that M. le Duc d'Anjou has inspiredin me for you."
"How so?"
"By recounting to me the exploit for which you were made chiefhuntsman."
M. de Monsoreau grew so frightfully pale, that the marks in hisface looked like black spots on his yellow skin; at the sametime he looked at Bussy in a manner that portended a violentstorm. Bussy saw that he had done wrong; but he was not a manto draw back; on the contrary, he was one of those who generallyrepair an indiscretion by an impertinence.
"You say, monsieur," said Monsoreau, "that the Duke recountedto you my last exploit?"
"Yes, monsieur, but I should much like to hear the story fromyour own lips."
M. de Monsoreau clasped his dagger tighter in his hand, as thoughhe longed to attack Bussy.
"Ma foi, monsieur," said he, "I was quite disposed to grant yourrequest, and recognize your courtesy, but unfortunately hereis the king arriving, so we must leave it for another time."
Indeed, the king, mounted on his favorite Spanish horse, advancedrapidly towards them. He loved handsome faces, and was thereforelittle pleased with that of M. de Monsoreau. However, he accepted,with a good grace, the estortuaire which he presented to him,kneeling, according to custom. As soon as the king was armed,the chase commenced.
Bussy watched narrowly everyone that passed, looking for theoriginal of the portrait, but in vain; there were pretty, evenbeautiful and charming women, but not the charming creature whomhe sought for. He was reduced to conversation, and the companyof his ordinary friends. Antragues, always laughing and talking,was a great amusement.
"We have a frightful chief huntsman," said he to Bussy, "do younot think so?"
"I find him horrible
; what a family it must be if his childrenare like him. Do you know his wife?"
"He is not married."
"How do you know?"
"From Madame de Vendron, who finds him very handsome, and wouldwillingly make him her fourth husband. See how she keeps nearhim."
"What property has he?"
"Oh! a great deal in Anjou."
"Then he is rich?"
"They say so, but that is all; he is not of very good birth. Butsee, there is M. le Duc d'Anjou calling to you."
"Ah! ma foi, he must wait. I am curious about this man. I findhim singular, I hardly know why. And such an odd name."
"Oh! it comes from Mons Soricis; Livarot knows all about that.--Here,Livarot; this Monsoreau----"
"Well."
"Tell us what you know about him----"
"Willingly. Firstly, I am afraid of him."
"Good, that is what you think; now tell us what you know."
"Listen. I was going home one night----"
"It begins in a terrible manner."
"Pray let me finish. It was about six months ago, I was returningfrom my uncle D'Entragues, through the wood of Meridor, whenall at once I heard a frightful cry, and I saw pass, with anempty saddle, a white horse, rushing through the wood. I rodeon, and at the end of a long avenue, darkened by the approachingshades of night, I saw a man on a black horse; he seemed to fly.Then I heard again the same cry, and I distinguished before himon the saddle a woman, on whose mouth he had his hand. I had agun in my hand--you know I aim well, and I should have killedhim, but my gun missed fire."
"Well?"
"I asked a woodcutter who this gentleman on the black horse was,and he said, 'M. de Monsoreau.'"
"Well," said Antragues, "it is not so uncommon to carry away awoman, is it, Bussy?"
"No; but, at least, one might let them cry out."
"And who was the woman?"
"That I do not know; but he has a bad reputation,"
"Do you know anything else about him?"
"No; but he is much feared by his tenantry. However, he is agood hunter, and will fill his post better than St. Luc wouldhave done, for whom it was first destined."
"Do you know where St. Luc is?"
"No; is he still the king's prisoner?"
"Not at all; he set off at one o'clock this morning to visit hiscountry house with his wife."
"Banished?"
"It looks like it."
"Impossible!"
"True as the gospel; Marshal de Brissac told me so this morning."
"Well! it has served M. de Monsoreau----"
"Ah! I know now."
"Know what?"
"The service that he rendered to the duke."
"Who? St. Luc?"
"No; Monsoreau."
"Really."
"Yes, you shall see; come with me," and Bussy, followed by Livarotand Antragues, galloped after the Duc d'Anjou.
"Ah, monseigneur," said he, "what a precious man M. de Monsoreauis."
"Ah! really; then you spoke to him?"
"Certainly."
"And asked him what he had done for me?"
"Certainly; that was all I spoke to him for."
"And what did he say?"
"He courteously confessed that he was your purveyor."
"Of game?"
"No; of women."
"What do you mean, Bussy?" cried the duke angrily.
"I mean, monseigneur, that he carries away women for you on hisgreat black horse, and that as they are ignorant of the honorreserved for them, he puts his hand on their mouths to preventtheir crying out."
The duke frowned, and ground his teeth with anger, grew pale,and galloped on so fast, that Bussy and his, companions wereleft in the rear.
"Ah! ah! it seems that the joke is a good one," said Antragues.
"And so much the better, that everyone does not seem to find ita joke," said Bussy.
A moment after, they heard the duke's voice calling Bussy. Hewent, and found the duke laughing.
"Oh!" said he, "it appears that what I said was droll."
"I am not laughing at what you said."
"So much the worse; I should have liked to have made a princelaugh, who hardly ever does so."
"I laugh at your inventing a false story to find out the trueone."
"No, I told you the truth."
"Well, then, as we are alone, tell me your little history. Wheredid it happen?"
"In the wood of Meridor."
The duke grew pale again, but did not speak.
"Decidedly," thought Bussy, "the duke is mixed up with that story.Pardieu! monseigneur," said he, "as M. de Monsoreau seems tohave found the method of pleasing you so well, teach it to me."
"Pardieu! yes, Bussy, I will tell you how. Listen; I met, bychance, at church, a charming woman, and as some features ofher face, which I only saw through a veil, recalled to me a ladywhom I had much loved, I followed her, and found out where shelived. I have gained over her servant, and have a key of thehouse."
"Well, monseigneur, all seems to go well for you."
"But they say she is a great prude, although free, young, andbeautiful."
"Ah! you are romancing."
"Well, you are brave, and love me?"
"I have my days."
"For being brave?"
"No, for loving you."
"Well, is this one of the days?"
"I will try and make it one, if I can serve your highness."
"Well, I want you to do for me what most people do for themselves."
"Make love to her, to find out if she be a prude?"
"No, find out if she has a lover. I want you to lay in wait anddiscover who the man is that visits her."
"There is a man then?"
"I fear so."
"Lover, or husband?"
"That is what I want to know."
"And you want me to find out?"
"If you will do me that great favor----"
"You will make me the next chief huntsman."
"I have never yet done anything for you."
"Oh! you have discovered that at last."
"Well, do you consent?"
"To watch the lady?"
"Yes."
"Monseigneur, I confess I do not like the commission."
"You offered to do me a service, and you draw back already!"
"Because you want me to be a spy."
"I ask you as a friend."
"Monseigneur, this is a sort of thing that every man must do forhimself, even if he be a prince."
"Then you refuse?"
"Ma foi! yes."
The duke frowned. "Well, I will go myself," said he, "and if I amkilled or wounded, I shall say that I begged my friend Bussy to.undertake the task, and that for the first time he was prudent."
"Monseigneur, you said to me the other night, 'Bussy, I hateall those minions of the king's who are always laughing at andinsulting us; go to this wedding of St. Luc's, pick a quarreland try to get rid of them.' I went; they were five and I wasalone. I defied them all; they laid wait for me, attacked meall together, and killed my horse, yet I wounded three of them.To-day you ask me to wrong a woman. Pardon, monseigneur, but thatis past the service which a prince should exact from a gallantman, and I refuse."
"So be it; I will do my work myself, or with Aurilly, as I havedone already."
"Oh!" said Bussy, with a sudden thought.
"What?"
"Were you engaged on it the night when you saw the ambush laidfor me?"
"Just so."
"Then your beautiful unknown lives near the Bastile."
"Opposite the Rue St. Catherine. It is a dangerous place, as youknow."
"Has your highness been there since?"
"Yesterday."
"And you saw?"
"A man spying all about and who at last stopped at her door."
"Was he alone?"
"Yes, at first. Afterwards he was joined by another, with a lanternin his hand."
"Ah!"
"Then they began to talk together, and at last, tired of waiting,I went away. And before I venture into the house where I mightbe killed----"
"You would like one of your friends to try it."
"They would not have my enemies, nor run the same risk; and thenthey might report to me----"
"In your place I would give up this woman."
"No, she is too beautiful."
"You said you hardly saw her."
"I saw her enough to distinguish splendid blonde hair, magnificenteyes, and such a complexion!"
"Ah! ah!"
"You understand! one does not easily renounce such a woman."
"No, I feel for you."
"You jest."
"No, on my word, and the proof is, that if you will give me myinstructions, I will watch this evening."
"You retract your decision?"
"There is no one but the pope infallible; now tell me what I amto do."
"You will have to hide a little way off, and if a man enter, followhim to find out who he is?"
"But if, in entering, he close the door behind him?"
"I told you I had a key."
"Ah! true; then there is only one more thing to fear, that I shouldfollow a wrong man to a wrong door."
"You cannot mistake; this door is the door of an alley, and atthe end of the alley there is a staircase; mount twelve steps,and you will be in a corridor."
"How do you know all this, if you have never been in?"
"Did I not tell you I had gained over the servant? She told meall."
"Mon Dieu! how convenient it is to be a prince. I should havehad to find out all for myself, which would have taken me anenormous time, and I might have failed after all."
"Then you consent?"
"Can I refuse your highness? But will you come with me to showme the house?"
"Useless; as we return from the chase, we will make a detour,and pass through the Porte St. Antoine, and I will point it outto you."
"Very well, and what am I to do to the man if he comes?"
"Only follow him till you learn who he is. I leave to you yourmode of action. And not a word to any one."
"No, on my honor."
"And you will go alone?"
"Quite."
"Well, then, it is settled; I show you the door on our way home;then you come with me, and I give you the key." Bussy and theprince then rejoined the rest. The king was charmed with themanner in which M. de Monsoreau had conducted the chase.
"Monseigneur," then said M. de Monsoreau to the duke,"I owe my place and these compliments to you."
"But you know that you must go to-night to Fontainebleau, wherethe king will hunt to-morrow and the day after."
"I know, monseigneur; I am prepared to start to-night."
"Ah, M. de Monsoreau, there is no more rest for you," said Bussy,"you wished to be chief huntsman, and you are so, and now you willhave at least fifty nights' rest less than other men. Luckilyyou are not married."
At this joke, Monsoreau's face was covered once more with thathideous paleness which gave to him so sinister an aspect.