CHAPTER VII.
The Cardinal takes an Evening Walk.
D'Arcy's acquaintance was one of the _petits maitres_, as Conde'sfollowers were called, and it was easy to see that he prided himselfimmensely on his fine clothes. He was dressed in a coat of dark bluecloth covered with fine lace; his mantle was scarlet, and his silkstockings, ornamented with lace, were of the same colour. He wore ablack hat turned up _a la catalane_, and adorned by an enormous blackfeather, and his gloves were of a soft, gray buckskin. His scabbardwas picked out with various designs, and jewels shone in the hilt ofthe sword.
"Lautrec, my friend, come here!" cried D'Arcy. "_Ma foi!_ what aninteresting group! Raoul and I for the Duke; Lautrec for Conde, and M.de Lalande for Mazarin. We only want a friend of De Retz to completethe party!"
"What?" cried Lautrec, looking at me with a broad smile, "the hero ofScarron's poem? The youngster from the country who tricked De Retz?M. de Lalande, I am delighted to meet you!"
"We will go to Perret's, and Lautrec shall sing us the famous songwhich Scarron wrote on our attempt to abduct the Cardinal," criedD'Arcy.
"But," said I in surprise, "it is not possible that the affair isopenly talked about?"
"Why not? It is of the past. Who cares for yesterday's thunderstorm,especially when it did no damage? We are all brothers now."
"But is it safe to introduce a _Mazarin_ at Perret's?" asked Raoul.
"Have no fear," exclaimed Lautrec, "your young friend will be welcome;only we shall not tell him our secrets!" and he glanced roguishly atD'Arcy.
It seemed rather odd to be on terms of friendship with Mazarin'senemies, but this was only one of the strange features of this strangeperiod. No one appeared able to remain serious long; a fight wasfollowed by a banquet, and your opponent of the morning supped with youat night.
Lautrec was correct in saying that no one would molest me at Perret's,which was a large meeting-room, where we found a score of men, allyoung or at least not more than on the threshold of middle age, and allrichly dressed, though none so extravagantly as the _petit maitre_.
"Messieurs," cried my new acquaintance, "we have brought you anillustrious visitor. Behold the youth whom Scarron has immortalised!A _Mazarin_, but a prince of good fellows!" and he clapped me on theback.
Had I been one of them they could not have received me in a morefriendly manner, and in a very short time I was completely at my ease.
"Let us have the song, Lautrec," said D'Arcy, "our friend has not heardit."
"Yes, yes, the song!" cried the others, laughing, and Lautrec stood upto sing the famous song composed by the Abbe Scarron.
The author had been made acquainted with the principal facts, but mywonder at this soon gave place to amusement. Mazarin, De Retz, Henri,myself, and even poor Pillot, were covered with ridicule, and at eachverse the merriment of the audience increased.
It appeared that my cousin, in order to explain his absence from theexpedition, had given out that his leg was injured by a fall, and whenLautrec reached that part the whole company screamed with delight.
"Again Lautrec! Let us have the verse again! Oh the poor cousinHenri! What a terrible misfortune!" they cried.
As for me, I lay back in my chair, with the tears running down mycheeks, and Lautrec, beginning the verse again, the others took it up,roaring at the tops of their voices, a lament for my cousin's injury.
In the very midst of the confusion Henri himself opened the door, andstood in amazement, staring at the mad scene. Lautrec spied himimmediately, and crying, "Ah, here is our dear cousin!" hobbled over tohim on one leg, nursing the other and singing with all his might.D'Arcy, Raoul and the rest followed, and forming a ring danced roundhim like a pack of madmen. I could not help laughing at their antics,and, to my surprise, Henri, instead of being angry, joined heartily inthe fun.
"Ah," he cried presently, spying me, "there is the rogue who caused allthe mischief. I' faith, Albert, I did myself an ill turn in advisingyou to come to Paris. Well, it is done with now, but I warn you not tocross our path a second time."
He spoke in a jesting tone, and laughed loudly, but the look in hiseyes told more than his words, and I guessed that for all his play mycousin would show me but scant mercy. Still, he was pleasant enough,and I passed a very agreeable hour in his company.
Presently Raoul, who was on night duty at the Luxembourg, was obligedto leave, and I, bidding my new acquaintances adieu, accompanied him.
"It is a pity you are not coming in," said he, half in jest, half inearnest, as we stopped at the gates; "we could have such pleasant timestogether."
"With young D'Arcy for a third!" I laughed. "No, no, Raoul; it lookstempting, but it wouldn't answer. I am not much in love with Mazarin,but France is safer with him than with your friends. Good-night.There is Peleton coming this way, and Maubranne with him."
"And neither of them is your particular friend. Shall I see youto-morrow evening if the truce lasts as long?"
"That depends on the Cardinal. If he doesn't require me I will be onthe Pont Neuf at six, but don't stay after that time," and I walked offquickly, leaving Raoul to enter the courtyard of the palace a littlebefore Peleton and the baron.
The next day Mazarin was invisible to every one except his secretary,but in the afternoon a note bearing his seal was brought to me in myroom. Opening it hastily, I read the contents with a feeling ofdisappointment, as they did away altogether with any chance of apleasant evening with Raoul.
"You will attend me, well armed and cloaked, at seven o'clock thisevening."
"What is in the wind now?" I muttered. "It seems that we have to gooutside the Palace at all events. Perhaps the adventure has somethingto do with my discovery at Martin's house. I pity the astrologer if hehas made an enemy of Mazarin."
Serving the Cardinal had at least taught me the value of beingpunctual, and at seven o'clock precisely I presented myself at the doorof his apartment. The Cardinal was dressed like a simple citizen, butover his black mantle he had thrown a long gray cloak, with a portionof which he could muffle his face. His first words filled me withsurprise, and, for the moment, with alarm also.
"So your cousin did not appear angry last night at the trick you playedhim?" he remarked in his broken French; "but you must be careful, Ihear he is not over well pleased."
"It seems to me that your Eminence hears everything," I repliedbluntly, as soon as my feeling of surprise would allow me to speak.
Putting on his hat, he said with a smile, "To-night, thanks to you, Iam going to hear something interesting. Evidently you were born undera lucky star, and I was fortunate in securing your services. Take careof yourself, my friend, for according to the stars our fortunes arebound up together."
It surprised me that so clever a man should believe that the stars hadany influence over our lives, but I did not speak my thoughts, thoughlikely enough he knew them, for he could read one's mind like a printedbook.
"Come," said he at length; "this way; it is not necessary to adviseevery one that the Cardinal is about to walk in the city."
Raising the tapestry, he passed into a small corridor, where thefaithful Bernouin awaited him.
"Has Belloc made all his arrangements?" asked Mazarin.
"Yes, your Eminence; everything is as you ordered."
"That is well. You will stay up till our return. I am not likely torequire more help, but--in case of accidents--here is a signed orderfor Ferre to turn out the Guards. Do not use it, however, unless it isabsolutely necessary."
The secretary bowed, and Mazarin conducted me by a private staircase,the very existence of which was known only to a few people, to thecourtyard of the Palace.
"You do not ask where we are going," said he, as we walked along.
"It is not my business, your Eminence," I answered, but I could nothelp reflecting that Mazarin did not know himself. If the groups ofcitizens had guessed who my companion was, it is likely that hisevening walk would have come to a su
dden end.
Now, I have heard Mazarin called a coward who would faint at the sightof blood, but those who said these things spoke without knowledge.Being a man of peace, he disliked bloodshed, but many a boastinggallant would have held back from dangers which the Cardinal facedwithout hesitation.
On this eventful night he strolled quietly along, brushing shoulderswith men who would gladly have slain him, and displaying no sign ofnervousness. At the corner of the Pont Neuf he actually stopped tolisten to the conversation of some citizens who were holding a kind ofopen-air parliament, and settling the affairs of the kingdom to theirliking.
One fellow especially, dressed like a prosperous shopkeeper, wasexceedingly loud in describing his plan to do away with the troubles,and I must admit that the first part of his remedy--the hanging ofMazarin--met with the hearty approval of the crowd.
"A beggarly foreigner!" said one.
"A miserable Italian priest!"
"A grasping, covetous miser!"
"He fancies that the French people were made for the purpose of keepinghis nieces like princesses!"
"Well, that is settled!" interrupted the first speaker. "Then, afterhanging Mazarin, I would put the Queen in a convent--she has done thecountry enough mischief."
"That's a grand idea," exclaimed one of the group. "How can a womanrule a country? And, besides, Anne of Austria is only a foreigner!"
I marvelled that Mazarin continued to listen to such stuff, especiallyas he was risking his life, but he seemed in no hurry to depart, and,indeed, craned his neck forward quite eagerly.
"Next," continued the orator, "we shall require a new regent until thelittle King is able to take the reins into his own hands."
"True," interrupted one of his listeners, "and who better than the Dukeof Orleans?"
"Pouf! Gaston is no use! He blows hot and cold with the same breath.He would send the Queen to a convent, and alter his mind while theywere unlocking the gates. No, my friends, we need a man with a strongarm and a stout heart; a leader whom the soldiers love; a general whomthe Spaniards fear; a prince of the blood who would make France great,powerful, glorious; the hero of Locroi and Lens, the finest soldier inthe world, the great Conde."
The orator finished amidst an outburst of cheering, which was renewedagain and again, till hundreds of people were shouting for Conde.
"It is certain," said the Cardinal, turning to me, "that you bring meluck. I will chance another turn of the wheel. Go to that man andtell him the Duc de La Rochefoucauld says he has done splendidly, butthat he must not bear so hard on Gaston. Mind that you watch his faceclosely. I will stay for you yonder in the shadow of the buttress."
Why the Cardinal gave me this strange order I could not guess, but itwas none of my business, so, taking the orator aside, I delivered themessage word for word. The man's eyes sparkled with joy; he begged meto thank the Duke, and to add that he would remember the hintconcerning Gaston of Orleans. More hopelessly perplexed than ever, Ireturned to Mazarin, and related what had passed, on which he smiledwith a satisfied air, and hurried me away.
"A clever rogue whose master should not begrudge him his wages!" hesaid with a quiet chuckle, "though he has made one grave mistaketo-night. But what extraordinary luck! Surely my star must be in theascendant! Ah, Martin, my friend, one need not necessarily be anastrologer to foretell the future."
From this speech I gathered two pieces of information. First, that wewere on our way to the astrologer's, and second that our visit was insome way mixed up with the knowledge I had already obtained. The sceneon the Pont Neuf I did not understand. The Black Mantle who hadstirred up the people on behalf of Conde could be no friend to Mazarin,yet the Cardinal had sent me to him with a most astounding message.Then again, every one knew that La Rochefoucauld was Conde's righthandman, but he was supposed to be far away from Paris.
Ah! That gave me a clue, and I looked at Mazarin in amazed wonder.How clever he was! From a hint here and a word there he had discoveredthat a huge plot was on foot. I did not know the truth till later, butit may as well be set down here.
The Cardinal's enemies found they could accomplish nothing withoutConde, but that prince and his brother were in prison. After a greatdeal of talk it was decided that La Rochefoucauld should visit Parisand stir up the people to demand Conde's release. The Black Mantle onthe bridge was no ordinary citizen, but an agent paid by the prince'sfriends, and Mazarin by his mock message had gone right to the heart ofthe secret.
This successful stroke had put him in the best of humours, and fromtime to time he laughed quietly to himself as if enjoying some richjoke. Everywhere the crowd was cheering for Conde, and threatening tohang Mazarin, but my companion proceeded calmly on his journey.
"Through the Rue Croquin," said he presently; "it may be quieter inthat direction, and I wish to think."
Unfortunately, about half-way along the street a mob of people, amongwhom were several Black Mantles, had gathered round a man who offeredfor sale copies of a song he was singing. He was a sturdy knave with adeep voice, and he sang so lustily that it was impossible to avoidhearing every word.
These songs poured continually from the printing-presses of theFrondeurs, who thought, and perhaps rightly, that an ink-bottle couldwork more harm than a cannon. Many were witty and laughable, but thisone was merely a string of vulgar abuse of the Queen-Mother.
"_Peste_," said I, losing my temper, "these hawkers are becoming tooimpudent."
"A _Mazarin_!" cried the man next to me. "Down with the _Mazarin_!"
"A fig for Mazarin! He is a man and can defend himself, but Anne ofAustria is not only a Queen but a woman. I say shame on the Frenchmenwho will let a woman be insulted."
"Monsieur is right," exclaimed one of the Black Mantles quickly;"though I bear no good-will to Anne of Austria."
The speaker who had thus interfered possessed a certain amount ofinfluence; the crowd, instead of rushing forward, remained still; themutterings died away, and some one, seizing the hawker's papers,trampled them in the mud, and shouted, "Down with Mazarin! Live theQueen!"
Others responded, and, pleased with the new cry, ran off yellinglustily, "Down with Mazarin! Live the Queen!" while the miserablesinger, a victim to the fickleness of popular favour, slunk away,muttering beneath his breath.
I do not know how the Cardinal felt at being mixed up in such anadventure, but he behaved like a man of spirit, and stood close at myside throughout the whole affair.
"_Ma foi!_" said he, as we moved on again, "you are not an over-prudentcompanion. Suppose one of those fellows had plucked at my cloak? Ifancy both the Cardinal and his servant would have received but shortshrift."
"We should have died for the Queen, my Lord!"
Mazarin shrugged his shoulders and answered drily, "I prefer my friendsto live. It is my _enemies_ who should get themselves killed. Butlisten!" and from a distance came a tremendous roar of "Down withMazarin! Live the Queen!"
"It is strange," muttered the Cardinal, "how these people will cheerfor every one but me, yet I have done them more good than all theothers put together. But come, unless the stars play me false, thesesame folk shall raise my name as high as the rest."
"Till the wind blows from a fresh quarter," I muttered, watching thehawker; and, indeed, it seemed to me that Mazarin, though a shrewd man,was striving for an empty honour.
However, there was little leisure for thinking just then; we walked onrapidly, turning to the right at the end of the Rue Croquin, and madeour way through several side streets which were nearly deserted. Aftera long roundabout journey we approached the neighbourhood where Martinlived, when suddenly an officer whom I recognised as Roland Bellocstepped out from a hiding place.
"Have you posted your soldiers?" asked Mazarin quietly.
"Every avenue is guarded. No one can enter or leave the streetunchallenged."
"The men are well out of sight?"
"It would take your Eminence a long time to discover them
!" replied theveteran warrior smiling.
"That is well. People who saw them might be curious. There is nothingfresh going on yonder?" and he waved his hand in the direction ofMartin's house.
"No, except that we arrived just in time to see Pillot going away."
"Did you secure him?"
"No, my Lord; I had no orders to detain him."
"Chut!" exclaimed Mazarin testily, "you should have acted withoutorders. By the way, did you know that La Rochefoucauld is in Paris?The game grows very exciting," and he laughed softly at Belloc'sastonishment.
"We must strike at once," said the old soldier.
"On the contrary, we will wait till the blow will do the most mischief.That is why I shall spare the good Martin--for a time. Now I am goingto pay my visit. There is not much chance of danger, but if theunexpected happens, why, in that case, a Cardinal's life is worth morethan that of an astrologer. Eh? my trusty Belloc?"
"Perhaps it will be as well for me to accompany you," said the soldier."M. de Lalande, here, is a trusty fellow, but after all he is only aboy, and if----"
"The danger, if there be any, will come from the outside," interruptedthe Cardinal. "Let your men keep strict watch, and we will take careof ourselves. Come;" and while Belloc slipped into a doorway, weturned the corner and crossed to that side of the street on which theastrologer's house stood.
Using his private signal Mazarin knocked boldly at the door; the windowabove us opened, and the servant, finding who his master's visitorswere, hurried to let us in. The bolts were hastily shot back, the barslowered, and then the door was thrown open by the obsequious porter,who stood bowing almost to the ground. Several lanterns suspendedalong the wall shed a dim light through the passage, and a second man,bearing another lantern, hastily came forward to conduct us.
I could not help thinking as we stepped inside, how completely theastrologer held Mazarin in his power!