CHAPTER XXXVI
THE MODERN RICHELIEU
"So I have found you at last!"
Mr. Sabin looked up with a distinct start from the table where he satwriting. When he saw who his visitor was, he set down his pen and roseto receive her at once. He permitted himself to indulge in a littlegesture of relief; her noiseless entrance had filled him with a suddenfear.
"My dear Helene," he said, placing a chair for her, "if I had had theleast idea that you wished to see me, I would have let you know mywhereabouts. I am sorry that you should have had any difficulty; youshould have written."
She shrugged her shoulders slightly.
"What does it all mean?" she asked. "Why are you masquerading in cheaplodgings, and why do they say at Kensington that you have gone abroad?Have things gone wrong?"
He turned and faced her directly. She saw then that pale and haggardthough he was, his was not the countenance of a man tasting thebitterness of failure.
"Very much the contrary," he said; "we are on the brink of success. Allthat remains to be done is the fitting together of my American work withthe last of these papers. It will take me about another twenty-fourhours."
She handed across to him a morning newspaper, which she had beencarrying in her muff. A certain paragraph was marked.
"We regret to state that Admiral, the Earl of Deringham, was seizedyesterday morning with a fit, whilst alone in his study. Dr. Bond, ofHarley Street, was summoned at once to a consultation, but we understandthat the case is a critical one, and the gravest fears are entertained.Lord Deringham was the greatest living authority upon the subject of ourfleet and coast defences, and we are informed that at the time of hisseizure he was completing a very important work in connection with thissubject."
Mr. Sabin read the paragraph slowly, and then handed the paper back toHelene.
"Deringham was a very distinguished man," he remarked, "but he was starkmad, and has been for years. They have been able to keep it quiet, onlybecause he was harmless."
"You remember what I told you about these people," Helene said sternly;"I told you distinctly that I would not have them harmed in any way. Youwere at Deringham Hall on the morning of his seizure. You went straightthere from the Lodge."
"That is quite true," he admitted; "but I had nothing to do with hisillness."
"I wish I could feel quite certain of that," Helene answered. "You are avery determined man, and you went there to get papers from him by anymeans. You proved that you were altogether reckless as to how you gotthem, by your treatment of Lord Wolfenden. You succeeded! No one livingknows by what means!"
He interrupted her with an impatient gesture.
"There is nothing in this worth discussion," he declared. "LordDeringham is nothing to you--you never even saw him in your life, and ifyou really have any misgivings about it, I can assure you that I gotwhat I wanted from him without violence. It is not a matter for you toconcern yourself in, nor is it a matter worth considering at all,especially at such a time as the present."
She sat quite still, her head resting upon her gloved hand. He did notaltogether like her appearance.
"I want you to understand," he continued slowly, "that success, absolutesuccess is ours. I have the personal pledge of the German Emperor,signed by his own hand. To-morrow at noon the compact is concluded. In afew weeks, at the most, the thunderbolt will have fallen. These arrogantIslanders will be facing a great invasion, whose success is already madeabsolutely sure. And then----"
He paused: his face kindled with a passionate enthusiasm, his eyes werelit with fire. There was something great in the man's rapt expression.
"Then, the only true, the only sweet battle-cry in the French tongue,will ring through the woods of Brittany, ay, even to the walls of Paris._Vive la France! Vive la Monarchie!_"
"France has suffered so much," she murmured; "do not you who love her sotremble when you think of her rivers running once more red with blood?"
"If there be war at all," he answered, "it will be brief. Year by yearthe loyalists have gained power and influence. I have notes here fromsecret agents in every town, almost in every village; the great heart ofParis is with us. Henri will only have to show himself, and the voice ofthe people will shout him king! And you----"
"For me," she interrupted, "nothing! I withdraw! I will not marry Henri,he must stand his chance alone! His is the elder branch--he is thedirect heir to the throne!"
Mr. Sabin drew in a long breath between his teeth. He was nervinghimself for a great effort. This fear had been the one small, blackcloud in the sky of his happiness.
"Helene," he said, "if I believed that you meant--that you couldpossibly mean--what you have this moment said, I would tear my compactin two, throw this box amongst the flames, and make my bow to my life'swork. But you do not mean it. You will change your mind."
"But indeed I shall not!"
"Of necessity you must; the alliance between you and Henri is absolutelycompulsory. You unite the two great branches of our royal family. Thesound of your name, coupled with his, will recall to the ears of Franceall that was most glorious in her splendid history. And apart from that,Henri needs such a woman as you for his queen. He has many excellentqualities, but he is weak, a trifle too easy, a trifle thoughtless."
"He is a dissipated _roue_," she said in a low tone, with curling lip.
Mr. Sabin, who had been walking restlessly up and down the room, cameand stood over her, leaning upon his wonderful stick.
"Helene," he said gravely, "for your own sake, and for your country'ssake, I charge you to consider well what you are doing. What does itmatter to you if Henri is even as bad as you say, which, mark you, Ideny. He is the King of France! Personally, you can be strangers if youplease, but marry him you must. You need not be his wife, but you mustbe his queen! Almost you make me ask myself whether I am talking toHelene of Bourbon, a Princess Royal of France, or to a love-sick Englishcountry girl, pining for a sweetheart, whose highest ambition it is tobear children, and whose destiny is to become a drudge. May God forbidit! May God forbid, that after all these years of darkness you shouldplay me false now when the dawn is already lightening the sky. Sink yoursex! Forget it! Remember that you are more than a woman--you are royal,and your country has the first claim upon your heart. The dignity whichexalts demands also sacrifices! Think of your great ancestors, who diedwith this prayer upon their lips--that one day their children's childrenshould win again the throne which they had lost. Their eyes may be uponyou at this moment. Give me a single reason for this change in you--onesingle valid reason, and I will say no more."
She was silent; the colour was coming and going in her cheeks. She wasdeeply moved; the honest passion in his tone had thrilled her.
"I would not dare to suggest, even in a whisper, to myself," he went on,his dark eyes fixed upon her, and his voice lowered, "that Helene ofBourbon, Princess of Brittany, could set a greater price upon the loveof a man--and that man an Englishman--than upon her country's salvation.I would not even suffer so dishonouring a thought to creep into mybrain. Yet I will remember that you are a girl--a woman--that is to say,a creature of strange moods; and I remind you that the marriage of aqueen entails only the giving of a hand, her heart remains always at herdisposal, and never yet has a queen of France been without her lover!"
She looked up at him with burning cheeks.
"You have spoken bitterly to me," she said, "but from your point of viewI have deserved it. Perhaps I have been weak; after all, men are not sovery different. They are all ignoble. You are right when you call uswomen creatures of moods. To-day I should prefer the convent to marriagewith any man. But listen! If you can persuade me that my marriage withHenri is necessary for his acceptance by the people of France, if I amassured of that, I will yield."
Mr. Sabin drew a long breath of relief, Blanche had succeeded, then.Even in that moment he found time to realise that, without her aid, hewould have run a terrible risk of failure. He sat down and spokecalmly, but impress
ively.
"From my point of view," he said, "and I have considered the subjectexhaustively, I believe that it is absolutely necessary. You and Henrirepresent the two great Houses, who might, with almost equal right,claim the throne. The result of your union must be perfect unanimity.Now, suppose that Henri stands alone; don't you see that your cousin,Louis of Bourbon, is almost as near in the direct line? He is young andimpetuous, without ballast, but I believe ambitious. He would be almostsure to assert himself. At any rate, his very existence would certainlylead to factions, and the splitting up of nobles into parties. This isthe greatest evil we could possibly have to face. There must be nodissensions whatever during the first generation of the re-establishedmonarchy. The country would not be strong enough to bear it. With youmarried to Henri, the two great Houses of Bourbon and Ortrens areallied. Against their representative there would be no one strong enoughto lift a hand. Have I made it clear?"
"Yes," the girl answered, "you have made it very clear. Will you let meconsider for a few moments?"
She sat there with her back half-turned to him, gazing into the fire.He moved back in the chair and went on with his writing. She heard thelightning rush of his pen, as he covered sheet after sheet of paperwithout even glancing towards her; he had no more to say, he knew verywell that his work was done. The influence of his words were strong uponher; in her heart they had awakened some echo of those old ambitionswhich had once been very real and live things. She set herself the taskof fanning them once more with the fire of enthusiasm. For she had nolonger any doubts as to her duty. Wolfenden's words--the first spokenwords of love which had ever been addressed to her--had carried withthem at the time a peculiar and a very sweet conviction. She had lostfaith, too, in Mr. Sabin and his methods. She had begun to wonderwhether he was not after all a visionary, whether there was really thefaintest chance of the people of her country ever being stirred into areturn to their old faith and allegiance. Wolfenden's appearance hadbeen for him singularly opportune, and she had almost decided a fewmornings ago, that, after all, there was not any real bar between them.She was a princess, but of a fallen House; he was a nobleman of the mostpowerful country in the world. She had permitted herself to care forhim a little; she was astonished to find how swiftly that sensation hadgrown into something which had promised to become very real and preciousto her--and then, this insolent girl had come to her--her photographwas in his locket. He was like Henri, and all the others! She despisedherself for the heartache of which she was sadly conscious. Her cheeksburned with shame, and her heart was hot with rage, when she thought ofthe kiss she had given him--perhaps he had even placed her upon a levelwith the typewriting girl, had dared to consider her, too, as a possibleplaything for his idle moments. She set her teeth, and her eyes flashed.
Mr. Sabin, as his pen flew over the paper, felt a touch upon his arm.
"I am quite convinced," she said. "When the time comes I shall beready."
He looked up with a faint, but gratified smile.
"I had no fear of you," he said. "Frankly, in Henri alone I should havebeen destitute of confidence. I should not have laboured as I have done,but for you! In your hands, largely, the destinies of your country willremain."
"I shall do my duty," she answered quietly.
"I always knew it! And now," he said, looking back towards his papers,"how about the present? I do not want you here. Your presence wouldcertainly excite comment, and I am virtually in hiding for the nexttwenty-four hours."
"The Duchess of Montegarde arrived in London yesterday," she replied. "Iam going to her."
"You could not do a wiser thing," he declared. "Send your address toAvon House; to-morrow night or Saturday night I shall come for you. Allwill be settled then; we shall have plenty to do, but after the labourof the last seven years it will not seem like work. It will be thebeginning of the harvest."
She looked at him thoughtfully.
"And your reward," she said, "what is that to be?"
He smiled.
"I will not pretend," he answered, "that I have worked for the love ofmy country and my order alone. I also am ambitious, although my ambitionis more patriotic than personal. I mean to be first Minister of France!"
"You will deserve it," she said. "You are a very wonderful man."
She walked out into the street, and entered the cab which she hadordered to wait for her.
"Fourteen, Grosvenor Square," she told the man, "but call at the firsttelegraph office."
He set her down in a few minutes. She entered a small post-office andstood for a moment before one of the compartments. Then she drew a formtowards her, and wrote out a telegram--
"To Lord Wolfenden, "Deringham Hall, "Norfolk.
"I cannot send for you as I promised. Farewell--HELENE."