CHAPTER XXV.
THE FATHER AND DAUGHTER.
On descending into the court, M. de Meridor found a fresh horse,which Bussy had had prepared for him; another waited for Bussy,and attended by Remy, they started. As they went along, the baroncould not but ask himself by what strange confidence he hadaccompanied, almost blindly, the friend of the prince to whomhe owed all his misfortunes. Would it not have been better tohave braved the Duc d'Anjou, and instead of following Bussy whereit pleased him to lead, to have gone at once to the Louvre, andthrown himself at the feet of the king? What could the princesay to him? How could he console him? Could soft words heal hiswound?
When they stopped, "What," said the baron, "does the Duc d'Anjoulive in this humble house?"
"Not exactly, monsieur, but if it is not his dwelling, it is thatof a lady whom he has loved."
A cloud passed over the face of the old gentleman. "Monsieur,"said he, "we provincials are not used to the easy manners ofParis; they annoy us. It seems to me that if the Duc d'Anjouwishes to see the Baron de Meridor, it ought to be at his palace,and not at the house of one of his mistresses."
"Come, come, baron!" said Bussy, with his smile, which alwayscarried conviction with it, "do not hazard false conjectures. Onmy honor, the lady who you are going to see is perfectly virtuousand worthy in all respects."
"Who is she then?"
"She is the wife of a friend of yours."
"Really! but then, monsieur, why did you say the duke loved her?"
"Because I always speak truth. But enter, and you shall seeaccomplished all I have promised you."
"Take care; I wept for my child, and you said, 'Console yourself,monsieur, the mercy of God is great;' to promise me a consolationto my grief was almost to promise me a miracle."
"Enter, monsieur," said Bussy, with his bright smile. Bussy wentin first, and, running up to Gertrude, said, "Go and tell Madamede Monsoreau that M. de Bussy is here, and desires to speak toher. But," continued he, in a low voice, "not a word of theperson who accompanies me."
"Madame de Monsoreau!" said the old man in astonishment. Butas he feebly mounted the staircase, he heard the voice of Dianacrying,--
"M. de Bussy. Gertrude? Oh! let him come in!"
"That voice!" cried the baron, stopping. "Oh! mon Dieu! mon Dieu!"
At that moment, as the baron tremblingly held on to the banister,and looked around him, he saw at the top of the staircase, Diana,smiling, and more beautiful that ever. At this sight the old manuttered a cry and would have fallen, had he not caught hold ofBussy, who stood by him.
"Diana alive! Diana, oh, my God!"
"Mon Dieu! M. de Bussy!" cried Diana, running down, "what is thematter with my father?"
"He thought you dead, madame, and he wept, as a father must weepfor a daughter like you."
"How!" cried Diana; "and no one undeceived him?"
"No one."
"No," cried the old man, recovering a little, "no one, not evenM. de Bussy."
"Ungrateful," said Bussy.
"Oh! yes! you are right; for this moment repays me for all mygriefs. Oh! my Diana! my beloved Diana!" cried he, drawing hisdaughter to him with one hand, and extending the other to Bussy.But all at once he cried, "But you said I was to see Madame deMonsoreau. Where is she?"
"Alas! my father!" cried Diana.
Bussy summoned up all his strength. "M. de Monsoreau is yourson-in-law," he said.
"What! my son-in-law! and every one--even you, Diana--left mein ignorance."
"I feared to write, my father; he said my letters would fallinto the hands of the prince. Besides, I thought you knew all."
"But why all these strange mysteries?"
"Ah, yes, my father; why did M. de Monsoreau let you think medead, and not let you know I was his wife?"
The baron, overwhelmed, looked from Bussy to Diana.
"M. de Monsoreau my son-in-law!" stammered he.
"That cannot astonish you, father; did you not order me to marryhim?"
"Yes, if he saved you."
"Well! he did save me," said Diana, sinking on to a chair, "notfrom misfortune, but from shame."
"Then why did he let me think you dead? I, who wept for you sobitterly. Why did he let me die of despair, when a single wordwould have restored me?"
"Oh! there is some hidden mystery," cried Diana; "my father,you will not leave me again; M. de Bussy, you will protect us."
"Alas! madame! it belongs to me no more to enter into your familysecrets. Seeing the strange maneuvers of your husband, I wishedto bring you a defender; you have your father, I retire."
"He is right," said the old man, sadly.
"M. de Monsoreau feared the Duc d'Anjou, and so does M. de Bussy."
Diana cast a glance at the young man. He smiled and said, "M.le Baron, excuse, I beg, the singular question I am about toask; and you also, madame, for I wish to serve you. M. le Baron,ask Madame de Monsoreau if she be happy in the marriage whichshe has contracted in obedience to your orders."
Diana burst into tears for her only answer. The eyes of the baronfilled also, for he began to fear that his friendship for M. deMonsoreau had tended to make his daughter unhappy.
"Now!" said Bussy, "is it true that you voluntarily promised himyour daughter's hand?"
"Yes, if he saved her."
"And he did save her. Then, monsieur, I need not ask if you meanto keep your promise."
"It is a law for all, and above all for gentlemen; you know that,M. de Bussy. My daughter must be his."
"Ah!" cried Diana, "would I were dead!"
"Madame," said Bussy, "you see I was right, and that I can dono more here. M. le Baron gives you to M. de Monsoreau, and youyourself promised to marry him when you should see your fatheragain safe and well."
"Ah! you tear my heart, M. de Bussy," cried Diana, approachingthe young man; "my father does not know that I fear this man,that I hate him; my father sees in him only my saviour, and Ithink him my murderer."
"Diana! Diana!" cried the baron, "he saved you."
"Yes," cried Bussy, "but if the danger were less great than youthought; what do we know? There is some mystery in all this,which I must clear up. But I protest to you, that if I had hadthe happiness to be in the place of M. de Monsoreau, I wouldhave saved your young and beautiful daughter without exactinga price for it."
"He loved her," said M. de Meridor, trying to excuse him.
"And I, then----" cried Bussy; and, although he stopped, frightenedat what he was about to say, Diana heard and understood.
"Well!" cried she, reddening, "my brother, my friend, can youdo nothing for me?"
"But the Duc d'Anjou," said the baron.
"I am not aware of those who fear the anger of princes," saidBussy; "and, besides, I believe the danger lies not with him,but with M. de Monsoreau."
"But if the duke learns that Diana is alive, all is lost."
"I see," said Bussy, "you believe M. de Monsoreau more than me.Say no more; you refuse my aid; throw yourself, then, into thearms of the man who has already so well merited your confidence.Adieu, baron; adieu, madame, you will see me no more."
"Oh!" cried Diana, taking his hand. "Have you seen me waver foran instant; have you ever seen me soften towards him? No. I begyou, on my knees, M. de Bussy, not to abandon me."
Bussy seized her hands, and all his anger melted away like snowbefore the sun.
"Then so be it, madame," said he; "I accept the mission, andin three days--for I must have time to go to Chartres to theprince--you shall see me again." Then, in a low tone to her, hesaid, "We are allied against this Monsoreau; remember that itwas not he who brought you back to your father, and be faithfulto me."