CHAPTER VIII.
IN WHICH THERE IS REASON TO FEAR THAT PRINCES ARE NOT INVARIABLY FREEFROM HUMAN PECCADILLOES.
ON entering Paris, my veteran fellow-traveller took leave of me, and Iproceeded to my hotel. When the first excitement of my thoughts wasa little subsided, and after some feelings of a more public nature, Ibegan to consider what influence the King's death was likely to have onmy own fortunes. I could not but see at a glance that for the cause ofthe Chevalier, and the destiny of his present exertions in Scotland, itwas the most fatal event that could have occurred.
The balance of power in the contending factions of France would, Iforesaw, lie entirely between the Duke of Orleans and the legitimatizedchildren of the late king: the latter, closely leagued as they were withMadame de Maintenon, could not be much disposed to consider the welfareof Count Devereux; and my wishes, therefore, naturally settled on theformer. I was not doomed to a long suspense. Every one knows that thevery next day the Duke of Orleans appeared before Parliament, and wasproclaimed Regent; that the will of the late King was set aside; andthat the Duke of Maine suddenly became as low in power as he had alwaysbeen despicable in intellect. A little hubbub ensued: people in generallaughed at the Regent's _finesse_; and the more sagacious admired thecourage and address of which the _finesse_ was composed. The Regent'smother wrote a letter of sixty-nine pages about it; and the Duchess ofMaine boxed the Duke's ears very heartily for not being as clever asherself. All Paris teemed with joyous forebodings; and the Regent, whomevery one some time ago had suspected of poisoning his cousins, everyone now declared to be the most perfect prince that could possibly beimagined, and the very picture of Henri Quatre in goodness as well asphysiognomy. Three days after this event, one happened to myself withwhich my public career may be said to commence.
I had spent the evening at a house in a distant part of Paris, and,invited by the beauty of the night, had dismissed my carriage, and waswalking home alone and on foot. Occupied with my reflections, and notvery well acquainted with the dangerous and dark streets of Paris, inwhich it was very rare for those who have carriages to wander on foot,I insensibly strayed from my proper direction. When I first discoveredthis disagreeable fact, I was in a filthy and obscure lane rather thanstreet, which I did not remember having ever honoured with my presencebefore. While I was pausing in the vain hope and anxious endeavour toshape out some imaginary chart--some "map of the mind," by which todirect my bewildered course--I heard a confused noise proceed fromanother lane at right angles with the one in which I then was. Ilistened: the sound became more distinct; I recognized human voices inloud and angry altercation; a moment more and there was a scream. ThoughI did not attach much importance to the circumstance, I thought I mightas well approach nearer to the quarter of noise. I walked to the door ofthe house from which the scream proceeded; it was very small and mean.Just as I neared it, a window was thrown open, and a voice cried, "Help!help! for God's sake, help!"
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Whoever you are, save us!" cried the voice, "and that instantly, or weshall be murdered;" and, the moment after, the voice ceased abruptly,and was succeeded by the clashing of swords.
I beat loudly at the door; I shouted out,--no answer; the scuffle withinseemed to increase. I saw a small blind alley to the left; one of theunfortunate women to whom such places are homes was standing in it.
"What possibility is there of entering the house?" I asked.
"Oh!" said she, "it does not matter; it is not the first time gentlemenhave cut each other's throats _there_."
"What! is it a house of bad repute?"
"Yes; and where there are bullies who wear knives, and take purses, aswell as ladies who--"
"Good heavens!" cried I, interrupting her, "there is no time to be lost.Is there no way of entrance but at this door?"
"Yes, if you are bold enough to enter at another!"
"Where?"
"Down this alley."
Immediately I entered the alley; the woman pointed to a small, dark,narrow flight of stairs; I ascended; the sounds increased in loudness. Imounted to the second flight; a light streamed from a door; the clashingof swords was distinctly audible within; I broke open the door, andfound myself a witness and intruder on a scene at once ludicrous andfearful.
A table, covered with bottles and the remnants of a meal, was in thecentre of the room; several articles of women's dress were scatteredover the floor; two women of unequivocal description were clinging toa man richly dressed, and who having fortunately got behind an immensechair, that had been overthrown probably in the scuffle, managed to keepoff with awkward address a fierce-looking fellow, who had less scope forthe ability of his sword-arm, from the circumstance of his attemptingto pull away the chair with his left hand. Whenever he stooped to effectthis object his antagonist thrust at him very vigorously, and had it notbeen for the embarrassment his female enemies occasioned him, the latterwould, in all probability, have despatched or disabled his besieger.This fortified gentleman, being backed by the window, I immediatelyconcluded to be the person who had called to me for assistance.
At the other corner of the apartment was another cavalier, who usedhis sword with singular skill, but who, being hard pressed by two lustyfellows, was forced to employ that skill rather in defence than attack.Altogether, the disordered appearance of the room, the broken bottles,the fumes with which the hot atmosphere teemed, the evident profligacyof the two women, the half-undressed guise of the cavaliers, and theruffian air and collected ferocity of the assailants, plainly denotedthat it was one of those perilous festivals of pleasure in whichimprudent gallants were often, in that day, betrayed by treacherousDelilahs into the hands of Philistines, who, not contented withstripping them for the sake of plunder, frequently murdered them for thesake of secrecy.
Having taken a rapid but satisfactory survey of the scene, I did notthink it necessary to make any preparatory parley. I threw myself uponthe nearest bravo with so hearty a good will that I ran him throughthe body before he had recovered his surprise at my appearance. Thissomewhat startled the other two; they drew back and demanded quarter.
"Quarter, indeed!" cried the farther cavalier, releasing himself fromhis astonished female assailants, and leaping nimbly over his bulwarkinto the centre of the room, "quarter, indeed, rascally _ivrognes_!No; it is our turn now! and, by Joseph of Arimathea! you shall sup withPilate to-night." So saying, he pressed his old assailant so fiercelythat, after a short contest, the latter retreated till he had backedhimself to the door; he then suddenly turned round, and vanished in atwinkling. The third and remaining ruffian was far from thinkinghimself a match for three men; he fell on his knees, and implored mercy.However, the _ci-devant_ sustainer of the besieged chair was but littledisposed to afford him the clemency he demanded, and approached thecrestfallen bravo with so grim an air of truculent delight, brandishinghis sword and uttering the most terrible threats, that there would havebeen small doubt of the final catastrophe of the trembling bully, hadnot the other gallant thrown himself in the way of his friend.
"Put up thy sword," said he, laughing, and yet with an air of command;"we must not court crime, and then punish it." Then, turning to thebully, he said, "Rise, Sir Rascal! the devil spares thee a littlelonger, and this gentleman will not disobey _his_ as well as _thy_master's wishes. Begone!"
The fellow wanted no second invitation: he sprang to his legs, and tothe door. The disappointed cavalier assisted his descent down the stairswith a kick that would have done the work of the sword to any flesh notaccustomed to similar applications. Putting up his rapier, the mildergentleman then turned to _the ladies_, who lay huddled together undershelter of the chair which their intended victim had deserted.
"Ah, Mesdames," said he, gravely, and with a low bow, "I am sorry foryour disappointment. As long as you contented yourselves with robbery,it were a shame to have interfered with your innocent amusements; butcold steel becomes serious. Monsieur D'Argenson will favour you withsome inquiries
to-morrow; at present, I recommend you to empty whatremains in the bottle. Adieu! Monsieur, to whom I am so greatlyindebted, honour me with your arm down these stairs. You" (turning tohis friend) "will follow us, and keep a sharp look behind. _Allons! ViveHenri Quatre_!"
As we descended the dark and rough stairs, my new companion said, "Whatan excellent antidote to the effects of the _vin de champagne_ is thissame fighting! I feel as if I had not tasted a drop these six hours.What fortune brought you hither, Monsieur?" addressing me.
We were now at the foot of the first flight of stairs; a high and smallwindow admitted the moonlight, and we saw each other's faces clearly.
"That fortune," answered I, looking at my acquaintance steadily, butwith an expression of profound respect,--"that fortune which watchesover kingdoms, and which, I trust, may in no place or circumstance be adeserter from your Highness."
"Highness!" said my companion, colouring, and darting a glance, firstat his friend and then at me. "Hist, Sir, you know me, then,--speaklow,--you know, then, for whom you have drawn your sword?"
"Yes, so please your Highness. I have drawn it this night for Philip ofOrleans; I trust yet, in another scene and for another cause, to draw itfor the Regent of France!"