CHAPTER XLV.
ORTHON.
After the refusal of the Duc d'Alencon, which left everything in peril,even his life, Henry became more intimate with the prince than ever, ifthat were possible. Catharine concluded from the intimacy that the twoprinces not only understood each other perfectly, but also that theywere planning some mutual conspiracy. She questioned Marguerite on thesubject, but Marguerite was worthy of her mother, and the Queen ofNavarre, whose chief talent lay in avoiding explanations, parried hermother's questions so cleverly that although replying to all she leftCatharine more mystified than ever.
The Florentine, therefore, had nothing to guide her except the spirit ofintrigue she had brought with her from Tuscany, the most interesting ofthe small states of that period, and the feeling of hatred she hadimbibed from the court of France, which was more divided in itsinterests and opinions than any court at that time.
She realized that a part of the strength of the Bearnais came from hisalliance with the Duc d'Alencon, and she determined to separate them.
From the moment she formed this resolution she beset her son with thepatience and the wiles of an angler, who, when he has dropped his baitnear the fish, unconsciously draws it in until his prey is caught.
Francois perceived this increase of affection on the part of his motherand made advances to her. As for Henry, he pretended to see nothing, butkept a closer watch on his ally than he had yet done.
Every one was waiting for some event.
During this state of things, one morning when the sun rose clear, givingout that gentle warmth and sweet odor which announce a beautiful day, apale man, leaning on a cane, and walking with difficulty, came out of asmall house situated behind the arsenal, and walked slowly along the Ruedu Petit Muse.
At the Porte Saint Antoine he turned into the street which encircles themoat of the Bastille like a marsh, left the boulevard on his left andentered the Archery Garden, where the gatekeeper received him with everymark of respect.
There was no one in the garden, which, as its name implies, belonged toa particular society called the Taxopholites. Had there been anystrollers there the pale man would have merited their sympathy, for hislong mustache, his military step and bearing, though weakened bysuffering, sufficiently indicated that he was an officer who had beenrecently wounded, and who was endeavoring to regain his strength bymoderate exercise in the open air.
Yet, strange to say, when the cloak opened in which, in spite of theincreasing heat, this apparently harmless man was wrapped, it displayeda pair of long pistols suspended from the silver clasps of his belt.This belt also sustained a dagger and a sword so enormously long that itseemed almost impossible to be handled, and which, completing thisliving arsenal, clattered against his shrunken and trembling legs.
As an additional precaution the lonely soldier glanced around at everystep as though to question each turn of the path, each bush and ditch.
Having entered the garden without being molested, the man reached a sortof small arbor, facing the boulevard, from which it was separated by athick hedge and a small ditch which formed a double inclosure. He threwhimself upon a grassy bank within reach of a table on which the host ofthe establishment, who combined with his duties as gatekeeper thevocation of cook, at once placed a bottle of cordial.
The invalid had been there about ten minutes and had several timesraised the china cup to his lips, taking little sips of its contents,when suddenly his countenance, in spite of its interesting pallor,assumed a startled expression. From the Croix Faubin, along a path whichto-day is the Rue de Naples, he had perceived a cavalier, wrapped in agreat cloak, stop near the moat.
Not more than five minutes had elapsed, during which the man of the paleface, whom the reader has perhaps already recognized as Maurevel, hadscarcely had time to recover from the emotion caused by his unexpectedpresence, when the horseman was joined by a man in a close-fitting coat,like that of a page, who came by the road which is since known as theRue des Fosses Saint Nicholas.
Hidden in his leafy arbor, Maurevel could easily see and heareverything, and when it is known that the cavalier was De Mouy and theyoung man in the tight-fitting cloak Orthon, one may imagine whetherMaurevel's eyes and ears were not on the alert.
Both men looked very carefully around. Maurevel held his breath.
"You may speak, monsieur," said Orthon, who being the younger was themore confident; "no one can either see or hear us."
"That is well," said De Mouy, "you are to go to Madame de Sauve, and ifyou find her in her rooms give her this note. If she is not there, youwill place it behind the mirror where the king is in the habit ofputting his letters. Then you will wait in the Louvre. If you receive ananswer, you will bring it you know where; if no reply is sent, you willmeet me this evening with a petronel at the spot I showed you, and fromwhich I have just come."
"Very well," said Orthon, "I understand."
"I will now leave you. I have much to do to-day. You need make nohaste--there is no use in it, for you do not need to reach the Louvreuntil he is there, and I think he is taking a lesson in hawking thismorning. Now go, and show me what you can do. You have recovered, andyou apparently are going to thank Madame de Sauve for her kindness toyou during your illness. Now go, my boy."
Maurevel listened, his eyes fixed, his hair on end, his forehead coveredwith perspiration. His first impulse had been to detach one of hispistols from his belt and aim at De Mouy; but a movement of the latterhad opened his cloak and displayed a firm and solid cuirass. Thereforein all probability the ball would flatten itself against this cuirass orstrike some part of the body wherein the wound would not be fatal.Besides, he reflected that De Mouy, strong and well armed, would have anadvantage over him, wounded as he was. So with a sigh he drew back theweapon which he had pointed at the Huguenot.
"How unfortunate," he murmured, "that I am unable to stretch him dead onthe spot, without other witness than that young varlet who would havebeen such a good mark for my second ball!"
But Maurevel thought that the note given to Orthon and which he was todeliver to Madame de Sauve might perhaps be of more importance than thelife of the Huguenot chief.
"Well!" said he, "you have escaped me again this morning; be it so.To-morrow I will have my turn at you if I have to follow you into thathell from which you have come to ruin me, unless I destroy you."
De Mouy raised his cloak over his face, and set out rapidly in thedirection of the Temple. Orthon took the road along the moat which ledto the banks of the river.
Then Maurevel, rising with more energy and vigor than he had dared tohope for, regained the Rue de la Cerisaie, reached his home, ordered ahorse to be saddled, and weak as he was and at the risk of opening hiswounds again, set off at a gallop to the Rue Saint Antoine, reached thequays, and entered the Louvre.
Five minutes after he had passed under the gate Catharine knew all thathad just taken place, and Maurevel had received the thousand goldencrowns promised him for the arrest of the King of Navarre.
"Oh!" said Catharine, "either I am mistaken or this De Mouy is the blackspot that was discovered by Rene in the horoscope of the accursedBearnais."
A quarter of an hour after Maurevel Orthon entered the Louvre, showedhimself as De Mouy had directed, and went to the apartments of Madame deSauve, after having spoken to several attendants of the palace.
Dariole was the only one in her mistress's rooms. Catharine had askedthe latter to write certain important letters, and she had been with thequeen for the last five minutes.
"No matter," said Orthon, "I will wait."
Taking advantage of his intimacy in the house, the young man went intothe sleeping-room of the baroness, and, having assured himself that hewas alone, he laid the note behind the mirror. Just as he was removinghis hand Catharine entered.
Orthon turned pale, for it seemed to him that the quick, searchingglance of the queen mother was first directed to the mirror.
"What are you doing here, my little man?" asked
Catharine; "looking forMadame de Sauve?"
"Yes, madame; it is a long time since I saw her, and if I delay anylonger in thanking her I fear she will think me ungrateful."
"You love this dear Charlotte very much, do you not?"
"With all my heart, madame!"
"And you are faithful, from what I hear."
"Your majesty will understand that this is very natural when you knowthat Madame de Sauve took more care of me than I, being only an humbleservant, deserved."
"And upon what occasion did she bestow all this care on you?" askedCatharine, pretending to be ignorant of what had happened to the youth.
"When I was wounded, madame."
"Ah, poor boy!" said Catharine, "you were wounded?"
"Yes, madame."
"When was that?"
"The night they tried to arrest the King of Navarre. I was so terrifiedat sight of the soldiers that I called and shouted; and one of the mengave me a blow on the head which knocked me senseless."
"Poor boy! And are you quite recovered now?"
"Yes, madame."
"So that you are trying to get back into the service of the King ofNavarre?"
"No, madame. When the King of Navarre learned that I had dared to resistyour majesty's order he dismissed me at once."
"Indeed!" said Catharine, in a tone full of interest; "well, I will seeto that affair. But if you are waiting for Madame de Sauve you will waitin vain, for she is occupied in my apartments."
Whereupon, thinking that Orthon perhaps had not had time to hide hisnote behind the mirror, Catharine stepped into the adjoining room inorder to give him the necessary opportunity.
But just as Orthon, anxious at the unexpected arrival of the queenmother, was wondering whether her coming did not forebode some plotagainst his master, he heard three gentle taps against the ceiling. Thiswas the signal which he himself was in the habit of giving his master incase of danger when the latter was with Madame de Sauve and Orthon waskeeping guard.
He started at the sound; a light broke upon his mind; he fancied thatthis time the warning had been given to him. Springing to the mirror, heremoved the note he had just placed there.
Through an opening in the tapestry Catharine had followed every movementof the boy. She saw him dart to the mirror, but she did not know whetherit was to hide the note or take it away.
"Well!" murmured the impatient Florentine; "why does he not leave now?"
And she returned to the room smiling.
"Still here, my boy?" said she; "why, what do you want? Did I not tellyou that I would look after your fortune? When I say a thing you do notdoubt it, do you?"
"Oh, madame, God forbid!" replied Orthon.
And approaching the queen, he bent his knee, kissed the hem of her robe,and at once withdrew.
As he went through the antechamber he saw the captain of the guards, whowas waiting for Catharine. The sight of this man, instead of allayinghis suspicions, augmented them.
On her part, no sooner had she seen the curtains fall behind Orthon thanCatharine sprang to the mirror. But in vain she sought behind it withhands trembling with impatience. She found no note.
And yet she was sure that she had seen the boy approach the mirror. Itwas to remove the note, therefore, and not to leave it. Fate had givento her enemies a strength equal to her own.
A child had become a man the moment he fought with her.
She moved the mirror, looked behind it, tapped it; nothing was there!
"Oh! unhappy boy!" cried she, "I wished him no ill and now by removingthe note he hastens his destiny. Ho, there, Monsieur de Nancey!"
The vibrating tones of the queen mother rang through the salon andpenetrated into the anteroom, where, as we have said, Monsieur de Nanceywas waiting.
The captain of the guards hastened to the queen.
"Here I am, madame," said he, "what is your majesty's will?"
"Have you been in the antechamber?"
"Yes, madame."
"Did you see a young man, a child, pass through?"
"Just now."
"He cannot have gone far, can he?"
"Scarcely to the stairway."
"Call him back."
"What is his name?"
"Orthon. If he refuses to come bring him back by force; but do notfrighten him unless he resists. I must speak to him at once."
The captain of the guards hurriedly withdrew.
As he had said, Orthon was scarcely half way down the stairs, for he wasdescending slowly, hoping to meet or see the King of Navarre or Madamede Sauve somewhere.
He heard his name and gave a start.
His first impulse was to run, but with forethought beyond his years herealized that by doing so all would be lost.
He stopped therefore.
"Who calls me?"
"I, Monsieur de Nancey," replied the captain of the guards, hurryingdown the stairs.
"But I am in haste," said Orthon.
"By order of her majesty the queen mother," said Monsieur de Nancey, ashe came up to him.
The youth wiped the perspiration from his brow and turned back.
The captain followed.
Catharine's first idea had been to stop the young man, have himsearched, and take possession of the note which she knew he had. She hadplanned to accuse him of theft, and with this end in view she hadremoved from the toilet table a diamond clasp which she was going to sayhe had taken.
But on reflection she concluded that this would be dangerous, in that itwould arouse the boy's suspicions and he would inform his master, whowould then begin to mistrust something, and so her enemy would gain anadvantage over her.
She could, no doubt, have the young man taken to some dungeon, but therumor of the arrest, however secretly it might be done, would spreadthrough the Louvre, and the slightest inkling of it would put Henry onhis guard. However, she must have the note, for a note from Monsieur deMouy to the King of Navarre, a note sent with such precautions, surelymeant conspiracy.
She put back the clasp from where she had taken it.
"No, no," said she, "that would be the method of a guard; it is poor.But for a note--which perhaps after all is not worth the trouble," shecontinued, frowning, and speaking so low that she herself could scarcelyhear the sound of her words. "Well, it is not my fault, but his. Why didnot the little scoundrel put the note where he should have put it? Imust have this letter."
Just then Orthon entered.
Catharine's face wore such a terrible expression that the youth stoppedon the threshold pale as death. He was still too young to be perfectmaster of himself.
"Madame," said he, "you have done me the honor of calling me back. Inwhat can I serve your majesty?"
Catharine's face lighted up as if a ray of sunlight had touched it.
"I called you back, my child," said she, "because your face pleases me,and having promised to help you I am anxious to do so without delay. Wequeens are sometimes accused of being forgetful. But this is not onaccount of our hearts, but because our minds are filled with business.Now I remembered that kings hold men's fortunes in their hands, and so Icalled you back. Follow me, my child."
Monsieur de Nancey, who was taking the affair seriously, was greatlysurprised at Catharine's affectionate manner.
"Can you ride, my child?" asked Catharine.
"Yes, madame."
"Then come into my room. I want to give you a message to carry to SaintGermain."
"I am at your majesty's command."
"Order a horse to be saddled, De Nancey."
Monsieur de Nancey disappeared.
"Come, boy," said Catharine, leading the way.
Orthon followed. The queen mother descended to the next floor, enteredthe corridor in which were the apartments of the king and the Ducd'Alencon, reached the winding staircase, again descended a flight ofstairs, and opened a door leading to a circular gallery to which nonebut the king and herself possessed the key. Bidding Orthon pass infirst, she entered after him and locked
the door. This gallery formed asort of rampart to a certain portion of the apartments of the king andthe queen mother, and, like the corridor of the castle of Saint Angeloat Rome, or that of the Pitti Palace at Florence, was a safe place incase of danger. The door locked, Catharine was alone with the young manin the dark corridor. Each advanced a few steps, the queen leading theway, Orthon following.
Suddenly Catharine turned and Orthon again saw on her face the samesinister expression which he had seen on it a few minutes before. Hereyes were as round as those of a cat or a panther and seemed to dartforth fire in the darkness.
"Stop!" she cried.
Orthon felt a shiver run through him; a deathly cold like an icy cloakseemed to fall from the ceiling. The floor felt like the covering of atomb. Catharine's glance was so sharp that it seemed to penetrate to thevery soul of the page. He recoiled and leaned against the wall,trembling from head to foot.
"Where is the note you were charged to give to the King of Navarre?"
"The note?" stammered Orthon.
"Yes; which, if you did not find him, you were to place behind themirror?"
"I, madame," said Orthon, "I do not know what you mean."
"The note which De Mouy gave you an hour ago, behind the ArcheryGarden."
"I have no note," said Orthon; "your majesty must be mistaken."
"You lie," said Catharine; "give me the note, and I will keep thepromise I made you."
"What promise, madame?"
"I will make your fortune."
"I have no note, madame," repeated the child.
Catharine ground her teeth; then assuming a smile:
"Give it to me," said she, "and you shall have a thousand goldencrowns."
"I have no note, madame."
"Two thousand crowns."
"Impossible; since I have no note, how can I give it to you?"
"Ten thousand crowns, Orthon."
Orthon, who saw the anger of the queen rising, felt that there was onlyone way of saving his master, and that was to swallow the note. He puthis hand to his pocket, but Catharine guessed his intention and stoppedhim.
"There, my child," said she, laughing, "you are certainly faithful. Whenkings wish to attach a follower to them there is no harm in their makingsure of his trustworthiness. Here, take this purse as a first reward. Goand carry your note to your master, and tell him that from to-day youare in my service. You can get out without me by the door we entered. Itopens from within."
And giving the purse to the astonished youth Catharine walked on a fewsteps and placed her hand against the wall.
But the young man stood still, hesitating. He could not believe that thedanger he had felt hovering over him was gone.
"Come, do not tremble so," said Catharine. "Have I not told you that youwere free to go, and that if you wish to come back your fortune ismade?"
"Thank you, madame," said Orthon. "Then you pardon me?"
"I do more, I reward you; you are a faithful bearer of notes, a gentlemessenger of love. But you forget your master is waiting for you."
"Ah! that is true," said the young man, springing towards the door.
But scarcely had he advanced three steps before the floor gave waybeneath his feet. He stumbled, extended both hands, gave a fearful cry,and disappeared in the dungeon of the Louvre, the spring of whichCatharine had just touched.
"So," murmured the queen, "thanks to the fellow's obstinacy I shall haveto descend a hundred and fifty steps."
The queen mother returned to her apartments, lighted a dark lantern,came back to the corridor, closed the spring, and opened the door of aspiral staircase which seemed to lead to the bowels of the earth. Urgedon by the insatiable thirst of a curiosity which was but the minister ofher hatred, she reached an iron door which turned on its hinges andadmitted her to the depths of the dungeon. Bleeding, crushed, andmutilated by a fall of a hundred feet or more, but still breathing, laypoor Orthon.
Beyond the thick wall the waters of the Seine were heard roaring,brought to the foot of the stairs by a subterranean channel.
Catharine entered the damp and unwholesome place, which during her reignhad witnessed many a fall similar to the one it had just seen, searchedthe body, seized the letter, made sure that it was the one she desired,then pushing aside the body with her foot she pressed a spring, thebottom of the dungeon sank, and the corpse, carried down by its ownweight, disappeared in the direction of the river.
Closing the door again, Catharine ascended, shut herself in her closet,and read the note, which contained these words:
"_This evening at ten o'clock, Rue de l'Arbre Sec, Hotel de la Belle Etoile. If you come send no reply; otherwise send back NO by the bearer._
"_DE MOUY DE SAINT PHALE._"
As Catharine read this note a smile came to her lips. She was thinkingof the victory she was to gain, forgetting the price at which she hadbought it. But after all what was Orthon? A faithful, devoted follower,a handsome young boy; that was all.
That, one may well imagine, would not for an instant have turned thescales on which the fate of empires had been weighed.
The note read, Catharine at once went to Madame de Sauve's and placed itbehind the mirror.
As she came down she found the captain of the guards at the entrance ofthe corridor.
"Madame," said Monsieur de Nancey, "according to your majesty's ordersthe horse is ready."
"My dear baron," said Catharine, "we shall not need it. I have made theboy speak, and he is really too stupid to be charged with the errand Iwanted to entrust to him. I thought he was a lackey, but he is nothingbut a groom at best. I gave him some money and dismissed him by theprivate gate."
"But," said Monsieur de Nancey, "the errand?"
"The errand?" asked Catharine.
"The one on which he was to go to Saint Germain. Does your majesty wishme to undertake it, or shall I have one of my men attend to it?"
"No, no," said Catharine, "this evening you and your men will havesomething else to do."
Whereupon the queen mother returned to her room, hoping that evening tohold in her hands the fate of the accursed King of Navarre.