CHAPTER IX.
We must now turn to trace the proceedings of Philip Count d'Aubin,who, riding on at full speed, drew not his bridle rein till he reachedthe magnificent Hotel de Guise; where, pushing through the mingledcrowd of attendants and petitioners, that swarmed, round the _portecochere_ of the dwelling, in which, for the time, resided all thepower of Paris, if not of France, he advanced, with hasty steps andabstracted look, to the foot of the great staircase. He had evenproceeded some way up the stairs ere he noticed, or even seemed tohear, the reiterated inquiries regarding his name and business, whichwere addressed to him by the various grooms and porters in hisprogress. When, at length--called for a moment from his fit ofabsence--he did condescend to speak, he merely mentioned his name,without indicating in any manner which of the many persons that thehouse contained was the object of his present visit.
Although unacquainted with his person, the valet, who had at lengthobtained an answer, happening to recall some of the court scandal offormer times, instantly, by an association not unnatural, connectedthe coming of the Count d'Aubin with the presence of the Duchess deMontpensier, the sister of the Duke de Mayenne, in the house at thatmoment; and he proceeded forthwith to show the Count to herapartments. D'Aubin entered the splendid saloon in which the Duchesswas sitting with the same thoughtful and abstracted air which had beenleft behind by the strong and turbulent passions, that had just beenexcited in his bosom by his interview with Beatrice of Ferrara. Madamede Montpensier, surrounded by a group of the gay idlers of thecapital, who even at that time mingled in their character that degreeof levity and ferocity which marked with such dreadful traits thefirst French revolution, was engaged in the seemingly puerileemployment of cutting out a paper crown with a huge pair of scissors,the sheath of which, black, coarse, and disfiguring, was passedthrough the silken girdle that spanned her beautiful waist.
Shouts of laughter were ringing through the hall, when the valetopened the door, and announced the Count d'Aubin. The Duchessinstantly looked up, with a smile of pleasure; but, remarking theruffled aspect of the Count, she instantly exclaimed--"Why, how now,D'Aubin! how now! After so long an absence, do you come back to ourfeet, not like a penitent suing for pardon, but rather like a harshhusband, full of scoldings and tempests?"
The cause of those gloomy looks, which she remarked, was not one whichPhilip d'Aubin would willingly have communicated to the gay, satiricalDuchess de Montpensier, who, to the libertine freedom common to thewhole court, added many a wily art, and many a vindictive passion,derived from the angry political factions of the time. The immediatecause of his visit to Paris, however, afforded him a ready motive toassign for his dark brow and agitated look. "Well may I be disturbed,madam," he replied, after a hasty word of salutation, "when my noblecousin, St. Real, confiding in an authentic pass, from the hands ofyour Highness's brother, has been entrapped in the neighbourhood ofSenlis, and is now, as I am informed, a prisoner in Paris!"
"Nay, but why bear such a countenance into our presence, Countd'Aubin?" rejoined the Duchess; "I am guiltless of entrapping yourcousin, or of even trying to entrap yourself; though, once upon atime," she added in a low tone, "I may have seen the Count d'Aubin atassel not unwilling to be lured;" and she looked up at him with aglance in which reproach was so skilfully mingled with playfulness andtenderness, that D'Aubin, although he knew that full two-thirds of thepageant which daily played its part on her countenance, was mereartifice, could not refrain from smiling in his turn.
"Ever willing to be lured, dear lady, where the lure is fair!" hereplied; "and though I certainly came to speak reproaches, they werenot to you. I know not why your blockhead groom," he added, "broughtme hither, unless he divined, indeed, how much the sight of yourHighness softens all wrath. My business was with your brother, theDuke of Mayenne."
The Duchess muttered to herself--"That will never do! If he seeMayenne, he will spoil the whole! I appeal to you, fair ladies andgentlemen all," she exclaimed aloud, with one of those quick and happyturns of artifice, which no one knew better how to employ, "if this isnot a high crime and misdemeanour in the court of love and gallantry,to tell a lady, whom he dare not deny to be fair, that he came for anyother purpose on earth than to see herself?"
"Blasphemy! blasphemy! utter blasphemy!" cried half a dozen voices."Judge him, fair lady, for his great demerits!"
"Philip d'Aubin!" exclaimed the Duchess, putting on a theatrical air,"you are condemned by your peers; but, under consideration of yourhaving been thoroughly brutalized, by a two months' residence at thedistance of a hundred leagues from Paris, we are inclined to show youlenity: kneel down here, then; humbly, at our feet, confess yourcrime! and swear upon this paper crown, which we have cut expresslyfor the royal Henry's head, never to commit the like iniquity again!"
D'Aubin had entered the apartment, not very well disposed to jest, butyet the feelings which had oppressed him were of such a nature, thathe was quite willing to forget them; and the smiles of the Duchess deMontpensier, as well as the tone of tenderness she assumed towardshim, together with the remembrance of many gay moments, spent in hersociety long before, made him gladly enough take up the part that sheassigned him. Bending his knee gracefully before her, then, he madeconfession of his crime, declared his penitence, and, vowing, in theterms she had dictated, never to offend again, he stooped his head tokiss the paper crown which she held upon her knee. At the same momentthe Duchess bent forward, as if to receive his vow, and, as she didso, she whispered, rapidly, "Stay with me, D'Aubin, and I will soonsend these fools away."
The Count replied nothing, but rose; and, still holding the papercrown playfully in his hand, demanded, in his ordinary tone, what wasthe real intent and purpose of that fragile mockery of the royalsymbol.
The Duchess saw that he had heard, understood, and was prepared toobey her whisper; and she replied, "'Tis exactly as I have told you,most incredulous of men. When, by the fate of war, or by the blessingof God, Henry, calling himself the Third, shall be brought in chainsinto Paris, it might be expected that the sister of the murderedGuise"--and as she spoke, her eye flashed for a moment with all thefiery spirit of her race;--"it might be supposed that the sister ofthe murdered Guise should not bound her wishes for revenge, till shesaw the assassin's blood flow like water in the kennel. But she ismore charitable, or, rather, he is too pitiful a thing to be worthy ofsevere punishment. With these scissors shall be cut off his royallocks, ere he quits the courtly world for the world of the cloister;and on his head shall he bear this crown, from the door of Notre Dameto the abbey of St. Denis, when he goes to take the vows that excludehim for ever from the world."
D'Aubin laughed. "So, this crown is for King Henry!" he exclaimed:"and have you never thought, madam, of cutting out another, from somedifferent materials, for your noble brother of Mayenne?"
"It must be an iron crown, then," replied the Duchess, tossing herhead proudly; "and he must hew it out for himself, with his goodsword."
"Rather a Cyclopean labour," remarked D'Aubin; "rather a Cyclopeanlabour I suspect! especially since Harry of Valois, to whom you denythe crown, has chosen to turn up his hat with a Huguenot button."
"We shall see, we shall see!" replied the Duchess: "I know, sir Count,you laugh at all parties; so I understand not why you should cling sofondly to the rabble of accursed murderers and heretics, who lie outthere at St. Cloud, like vipers in a garden."
D'Aubin laughed outright at the Duchess's vehemence, and reminded herthat some of her near relations were amongst the rabble she soqualified.
"They are none the less vipers for that," she replied: and theconversation taking a turn neither very wise nor very decent, may aswell be omitted in this place. It lingered on, however, from minute tominute, without the Duchess making any apparent effort to fulfil thepromise she had made to D'Aubin, and send away the idlers by whom shewas surrounded. Too long accustomed to the intriguing society ofParis, and too well acquainted with the character of the wily womanwith whom he had now to deal, no
t to be armed at all points againstevery art and deception, D'Aubin began to suspect that the Duchess wastrifling with him for some particular purpose, and was seeking tooccupy him with other matters, till some moment of importance, tohimself or his cousin, was irretrievably lost.
"Hark!" he exclaimed, as this thought crossed his mind; "there is theclock of St. Gervais striking one, and I must really seek my lord theDuke."
"I hear no clock," replied the Duchess--nor could she, for none hadstruck--"I hear no clock! But not yet, D'Aubin, not yet; I am not yetgoing to slip the jesses of my _faucon gentil_, after having justrecovered him from so long a flight. Stay you with me, D'Aubin, and Iwill send and see if my brother be within. You go, Mont-Augier," sheadded, turning to one of the young cavaliers, who instantly sprang toobey her; but, ere he reached the door, the Duchess, by a suddenmovement, placed herself near him; and, while D'Aubin was for a momentoccupied by some other person present, she said, in a low voice, "Donot return, do not return: we must keep the Count away from Mayenne,or they will together spoil some of our best schemes."
D'Aubin's eye turned upon her; and his quick suspicions might havegone far to counteract her purposes, had not Madame de Montpensier,almost as soon as Mont-Augier's back was turned, contrived, on variouspretences, to dismiss the rest of her little court. Left thus alonewith a fascinating and beautiful woman, who condescended to court hissociety, D'Aubin could not resist the temptation to trifle away withher half an hour of invaluable time, though he knew all her arts, andeven suspected that, on the present occasion, they were employedagainst him for insidious purposes. He was on the watch, however, and,ere long, the clatter of many horses' feet in the court-yard caughthis attention, and led him instantly to conclude that the Duke ofMayenne was about to go forth, without having seen him. It was now allin vain that Madame de Montpensier, who likewise heard the sounds, andattributed them to the same cause, endeavoured to occupy his attentionby every little art of coquetry. D'Aubin started up, and, in gay, butresolute terms, expressed his determination of seeing the Duke ere heleft the house.
To what evasion Madame de Montpensier would have had recourse, isdifficult to say; but, ere she could reply, the door opened, and alady entered, whom we will not pause here to describe. Suffice it,that she was the widow of the murdered Duke of Guise, and that, thoughher person wore the weeds, her face betrayed few of the sorrows, ofwidowhood.
"Catherine! Catherine!" she exclaimed, entering; "there is our slowbrother of Mayenne just returned, and calling for you so quickly thatone would think he were himself as nimble as Harry of Navarre."
"Returned! I knew not that he was absent!" replied the Duchess deMontpensier, with an air of irrepressible mortification, on findingthat all her arts had been thrown away, and, instead of preventingD'Aubin from seeing her brother ere he went forth, had only tended tokeep the Count there till he returned. A meaning smile, too, on thelip of D'Aubin, served to increase her chagrin; and she exclaimed,with a slight touch of pettish impatience in her tone, "Well, well, Igo to him; and you, my fair sister, had better stay and console thistiresome man, till my return."
The Duchess of Guise saw that something had gone wrong; but D'Aubinlaughed, and replied, as Madame de Montpensier turned towards thedoor, "May I request you to tell his Highness that the tiresome manwaits an audience; and, as his business will be explained in fewwords, he will not detain the Duke so long as he has detained Madamede Montpensier,--or as, perhaps, I might say, more truly, Madame deMontpensier has detained him,--probably under a mistake;" and he madeher a low and significant bow, to which she only replied by shakingher finger at him as she passed through the doorway.
"Where is the Duke?" she demanded eagerly of the pages in thecorridor, who started up at her approach; and then, scarcely listeningto their answer, she hurried on to the room in which she expected tofind him, and opened the door without ceremony. The Duke was seated ata table, hastily sealing some letters, while a courier, booted,spurred, and armed, stood by his side, ready to bear them to theirdestinations as soon as the packets were complete.
"Why, how now, Catherine!" he exclaimed, turning towards her as sheentered, and, in so doing, spilling the boiling wax over his broadhand, without suffering the pain to produce the slightest change ofexpression on his heavy, determined countenance; "why, how now,Catherine! you have been tampering, I find, with things wherein youhave no right to meddle. What is this business about the young Marquisof St. Real? Is it not bad enough that that rash boy, Aumale, shouldlose me a battle beneath the walls of Senlis, without my sister losingme my honour?"
"Tush, nonsense, Duke of Mayenne!" replied his sister; "Nonsense, Itell you! If you intend that packet for Senlis, you may spare the wax,and your trouble, and your fingers, for it shall never go!"
"Indeed!" said the Duke, pressing firm upon it the broad seal of hisarms; "indeed! and why not? Do you not know me better than that, myfair sister? Do you not know that my word, or my safe-conduct, wasnever in life violated by myself, and never shall be violated by anyone else with impunity?"
"All very true! all very true, Charles of Mayenne!" she replied;"but, in the first place, I tell you that your safe-conduct cannot besaid to be violated, because some friends of mine choose to help thisyoung St. Real to pursue his journey on the very road for which thesafe-conduct was given; and, in the second place, there is no use ofsending to Mortfontaine or Nanteuil either, for within an hour St.Real will be, I trust, in Paris."
"Then within an hour he shall be set at liberty!" replied the Duke;"for I shall suffer no quibbling with my honour: he shall be free tocome and free to go, till the term of the safe-conduct expires."
"Nonsense, nonsense, Charles!" replied the Duchess; "do not talk likethe man in the mystery. Send this fellow away, and let me speak withyou calmly; for here is the Count d'Aubin already in the house; and,if you go on vapouring in this way, you may miss a golden opportunityof gaining more than the battle of Senlis has lost."
The Duke made a sign for the courier to withdraw. "I know your skillwell, Kate!" he said, as the man left the room, "and am far fromwishing to counteract your views; but neither must you meddle with myschemes, nor affect my honour. Now let me hear what it is you havedone, and what you propose to do."
"For the done first, then," replied Madame de Montpensier: "what Ihave done is simply this:--Hearing from good authority that this St.Real had left his troops under the command of his Lieutenant, and,while his cousin D'Aubin went to join Longueville, at Chantilly, hadshown a strong inclination to seek the camp of the Henrys before hecame to Paris, I thought it much better to change his destination, andbring him hither, well knowing that the first step is all. So much forthe past! and now for the future. Leave him but in my hands two days;and if, in that time, I do not find a way, by one means or another, tomake him put his hand to the Union, and draw his sword for Mayenne,why, set him free, in God's name! and then talk of your honour andyour safe-conducts as much as you like. He shall be well and kindlytreated, upon my word!"
The Duke smiled. "I doubt not that, Catherine," he said; "you and yourfair sister of Guise, who, I suppose, has some hand in the affair, arenot such hard-hearted dames, I know, as to use harsh measures, whentender ones will do."
"Well, well, Mayenne," she answered, "if we bestow our smiles topromote your interest, you, at least, have no occasion to complain,good brother: but you consent, is it not so?"
"On condition that no harshness is used--that I know not where heis--that I see him not--and, that he finds no means for applying forliberation to me: for on the instant I set him free!"
"Manifold conditions!" replied his sister; "but they shall be allcomplied with. And now for the Count d'Aubin. If we can but win St.Real, I will promise you D'Aubin; for I know one or two of the goodCount's secrets, which give me some tie upon him."
"I hold him by a stronger bond," replied the Duke; "the bond ofinterest, Catherine; for, by my faith, if he quit not soon him whomBeatrice of Ferrara calls the crowned Vice at St. Cloud, I will gi
vethe hand of Eugenie de Menancourt to some better friend of the League.I am glad he is come, for I may give him a gentle notice to decidemore speedily."
At the name of Beatrice de Ferrara, the cheek of Madame de Montpensierreddened, and her brow contracted; and, without noticing theconcluding words of her brother, she replied, "I hate that woman, thatBeatrice of Ferrara!" and as she spoke, she moved absently towards thedoor. The Duke marked her with a smile, and followed, saying, "Well,well, where is this Count d'Aubin?"
The Duchess led the way to the apartment in which he had been leftwith the Duchess de Guise, and where she still found him, bandyingrepartees with the fair widow, and with the Chevalier d'Aumale, whohad lately been added to the party. The entrance of the Duke ofMayenne, however, at once put a stop to the light jests which wereflying thick and fast; and the Duke, without preface, entered upon thesubject of D'Aubin's journey to Paris.
"Good morrow! Monsieur le Comte," said he, with an air ofunconsciousness, which his somewhat inexpressive countenance enabledhim easily to assume. "Right glad was I of your application for asafe-conduct last night, doubting not that, by this time, you areheartily tired of consorting with the effeminate rabble of paintedminions and Huguenot boors gathered together at St. Cloud, and arecome to support the Catholic faith, with a sharp sword, that has beensomewhat too long employed against her."
"Your Highness's compliment to the sharpness of my sword," repliedD'Aubin, "does not, I am afraid, extend to the sharpness of my wit;for the occurrences which have taken place within the last five daysare surely not calculated to bring over a cousin of the Marquis of St.Real to the party of the Catholic League, or to raise very high thecharacter of dealers in Spanish Catholicon."
The Duke of Mayenne turned a sharp and somewhat angry glance uponMadame de Montpensier; but to D'Aubin he replied coldly, "You seemangry, Monsieur le Comte d'Aubin; and as it is far from my wish togive just cause for anger to a French nobleman, whose good sense, I amsure, will, sooner or later, detach him from a party composed of allthat is either infamous or heretical, if you will explain the subjectof your wrath, I will do all that is in my power to satisfy you, if Ishall find your complaints just and reasonable."
"My complaint is simply this, my lord Duke," replied D'Aubin, smilingat the air of unconsciousness which Mayenne assumed:--"If myimagination have not deceived me, somewhat less than a monthago, Charles, Duke of Mayenne vouchsafed, under the title oflieutenant-general of the kingdom, to grant a regular safe-conduct toa noble gentleman called the Marquis of St. Real, in order that thesaid Marquis might visit, in safety, the capital of this country, aswell as the court of King Henry, in order to judge between thefactions which strangle this unhappy land, and take his partaccordingly."
"True," said the Duke of Mayenne, bowing his head, "true, we did so."
"Well, then, my lord," continued D'Aubin, "is it not equally truethat, when my cousin, St. Real, thought fit to leave his forces at asufficient distance from either army to give him an opportunity ofjoining which he pleased hereafter, and was advancing calmly to conferwith the King, he was entrapped by false information, surrounded by aparty wearing the green scarfs of the League, and carried off, indirect contravention of the safe-conduct you had given him?"
"I will not affect to deny, Monsieur d'Aubin," replied the Duke,--andMadame de Montpensier looked in no small anxiety while he spoke; "Iwill not affect to deny, that the rumour of some such skirmish as youspeak of has reached me--"
"Skirmish, my lord Duke!" exclaimed D'Aubin; "there has been noskirmish in the business; the simple facts are these:--My cousin, withonly twenty gentlemen in his train, was surrounded by a party of twohundred men; and, of course, offered no resistance. He produced yoursafe-conduct, however; but it was set at nought and the leaders of theband gave him very sufficiently to understand, that they had your ownauthority for what they did. Such, at least, is the account brought tome by one of my cousin's attendants, who contrived to effect hisescape; and I now make the charge boldly and straightforwardly, inorder that you may have the opportunity of clearing yourself at once;or, that the spot of darkness, which such a transaction must affix tothe character of the Duke of Mayenne, may be stamped upon it incharacters which no aftertime can efface."
The Duke reddened, and bit his lip. "You make me angry, sir!" hesaid--"you make me angry!"
"No cause for anger, my lord Duke," replied D'Aubin, "if you be clearof this transaction. It is I who am a friend to the character of theDuke of Mayenne, by giving him an instant opportunity of clearingit;--and let me say, my lord, if you be not free from share in thisbusiness," he added, sternly and boldly, "you may find that you arenot the only one who is made angry: for, putting aside all respect toyour high rank, and to the station which you hold, I shall urge thematter against you as noble to noble, and gentleman to gentleman."
"Was ever the like heard?" exclaimed Madame de Montpensier. "Heed himnot, Brother of Mayenne! heed him not; the man is mad, raving mad!"
"Not so mad, nor so foolish, lady," replied D'Aubin, his lip bendinginto a slight smile, "as to be turned from my purpose, either by sweetwords, or angry ones. My lord Duke," he continued, approaching nearerto the Duke of Mayenne, who had taken a hasty turn in the room, as ifto give his passion vent before he spoke; "my lord Duke, I mean not tooffend you; but my cousin has suffered wrong, and that wrong must beredressed."
"You have spoken too boldly, Count d'Aubin," replied Mayenne, to whomthe considerations of policy had by this time restored the calmness ofwhich personal anger had deprived him: "but I must make excuses forthe warmth of affection which you seem to bear your cousin; and, inreply to your charge, I have merely to say, that the first correctinformation respecting this event"--and he turned a somewhatreproachful glance upon Madame de Montpensier--"has been received fromyourself; that the capture of your cousin was unauthorized by, andunknown to me; that I know not precisely in whose hands he is; and,that I promise you, upon my honour, he shall be set free as soon asever I meet with him. Farther still, I pledge myself to find him andliberate him before three days have expired, and to punish, mostseverely, those who are concerned, in case he have met with anyill-treatment whatever."
"Your promise goes farther than even I could expect, my lord Duke,"replied D'Aubin, in a softened tone; "and I most sincerely thank youfor having met so candidly a charge which I may, perhaps, have urgedtoo boldly, as your Highness says. Forgive my hastiness, my lord; for,on my honour, in these times of indifference, it is sometimesnecessary to give way to a little rashness, in order to show that wehave some heart and feeling left."
"We esteem you all the more highly for it," answered the Duke, "andonly regret, Monsieur d'Aubin, that one who can so well feel what isright and noble, in some points, should attach himself to a partystained with murder, treachery, falsehood, and many a vice that I willnot number; while sense, and wisdom, and good feeling should allinduce him to take the more patriotic part that we are in arms tomaintain."
"And, let me add, his own interest also," said Madame de Montpensier,"should lead him to join us here."
"Wisely reserving the best argument for the last!" joined in theChevalier d'Aumale. "The great God Interest, first cousin to thelittle God Mammon, is powerful both with Catholic and Huguenot,Leaguer and Royalist; and doubtless, beautiful priestess, if you canshow that the Deity favours the League more than its opponents, youwill soon bring over Monsieur d'Aubin to worship at his shrine."
"That can be easily shown," rejoined the Duke of Mayenne, followingthe idea of the Chevalier d'Aumale, half in jest and half in earnest:"Has not the god already put at our disposal sundry Huguenot lands andlordships, purses well stuffed with gold, and, above all, the hand ofmore than one fair heiress? On my word! Monsieur d'Aubin," he added,assuming a more serious and feeling tone, "far would it be from me tohold out to you views of interest, in order to bring you over to theparty of the Faith, did not those views of interest coincide entirelywith your honour, your reputation, and your duty."
D'A
ubin mused for a moment, and then answered laughing, "I never yetdid hear, my lord, that interest did not bring a long train of seemingvirtues, to give greater strength to her own persuasions: and yet, Ido not see how my honour could be raised by abandoning my king at amoment of his greatest need; how my reputation could be increased byquitting a party which I have long served; or how my duty is to bedone by breaking my oath of allegiance to my legitimate sovereign."
"Thus, Monsieur d'Aubin," replied the Duke:--"if you are a man ofhonour,--and most truly do I hold you to be such,--you will flee thesociety of those who have none; if you have a fair reputation, youwill quit a court whose very breath is infamy; and, if you holdsincerely to the Catholic faith, you cannot refuse to turn your swordagainst its most inveterate enemies."
"No, no, my lord!" replied D'Aubin; "King Henry holds the Catholicfaith as well as yourself; and, indeed, loves monks and priests ratherbetter than either you or I do. To him, also, have I sworn fidelityand attachment, as my lawful sovereign; and I will neither break myoath, nor forget my allegiance."
"Thank God, that the thread of a tyrant's life is spun of veryperishable materials!" said Madame de Montpensier, with a significantglance at the Duchess de Guise; "and were this Henry dead, we mightwell count upon you, D'Aubin: is it not so?"
D'Aubin replied not for a moment; and the soft sleepy-eyed Duchess ofGuise could not refrain from pursuing the subject jestingly; althoughher sister-in-law endeavoured, by a chiding look, to stay her, tillD'Aubin had answered. "Perhaps the noble Count may be a Huguenothimself." she exclaimed: "who knows, in these strange changeabletimes----"
"Or, perhaps, this dearly-beloved cousin of his may have been onethese twenty years," said the Chevalier d'Aumale; "for shut up in thatold castle of theirs, these St. Reals may have been Turks andinfidels, for anything that we can tell."
"I wish there was as good a Catholic present as St. Real," repliedD'Aubin; "and as for myself, though not very learned in all itsmysteries, I hold the faith of my fathers, and will not abandon it. Mylord of Mayenne, I would fain speak with you for one moment, in thisoriel here," he added.
The Duke of Mayenne instantly complied; and, advancing with the Countinto the deep recess of one of the windows at the farther end of theroom, he listened to what D'Aubin had to say, and then repliedgravely. The Count rejoined; and, though the subject which theydiscussed seemed to interest them highly, it might be inferred, fromthe laughter which occasionally mingled with their discourse, thattheir conversation had taken a turn towards some topic less unpleasantthan that which had been broached at the beginning of their firstinterview.
In the meantime, however, a new personage had been added to theparty at the other end of the room. He was a tall gaunt man, of aboutfive-and-forty, with aquiline features, a keen kite-like eye, fineteeth, and curly hair and beard: in short, he was one of those men whoare called handsome by people in whose computation of beauty theexpression of mind, and soul, and feeling make no part of the account.His dress was not only military, but of such a character as to showthat his most recent occupation had been the exercise of hisprofession. The steel cuirass was still upon his shoulders, the heavyboots upon his legs; and, though some attempt had been made to brushaway the dust of a journey, a number of long brown streaks, on variousparts of his apparel, evinced, that whatever toilet he had made hadbeen hasty and incomplete.
As soon as Madame de Montpensier caught the first glance of his personentering the saloon, she made him an eager sign not to come in; but heeither did not perceive, or was unwilling to obey the signal, andproceeded, with an air of perfect assurance, till the Duchess,starting up, advanced to meet him; trusting, apparently, that theeager conversation which was going on between D'Aubin and the Dukewould prevent either of them from remarking her man[oe]uvres at theother end of the room.
"What, in misfortune's name, brought you here?" she said, giving ahasty glance towards the oriel, and perceiving at once that she mustmake the best of what had occurred, for that D'Aubin's eye had alreadymarked the entrance of the stranger; "what, in misfortune's name,brought you here just now? Here is D'Aubin himself inquiring furiouslyafter this young kestril, that we have taken such pains to catch; andMayenne, like a fool, standing on his honour, has promised to set himfree as soon as ever he finds dim. So you know nothing about thematter: pretend utter ignorance; and swear you have never seen theyoung Marquis."
"That I can well swear," replied the other, in the same low tone, butwith a slight Teutonic accent; "that I can well swear, most beautifuland charming of princesses! for I took especial care to keep out ofthe way while the poor bird was being limed; and have ridden on beforeto tell you that, by this time, he must be safe in my house, in therue St. Jacques."
"Keep him close and sure, then," replied Madame de Montpensier, "atleast till his shrewd cousin is out of the city; for Mayenne will letus keep him but two days; and we must work him to our purpose beforethat time expires." She had just time to finish her sentence, ereMayenne and D'Aubin quitted the recess of the oriel window; and thelatter, advancing towards the place where she stood, addressed hercompanion as an old acquaintance.
"Ha! Sir Albert of Wolfstrom," he said, with an ironical smile,"faithful and gallant ever! Receiving the soft commands of thisbeautiful lady with the same devotion as in days of yore, I see! But Ihave reason to believe that you are lately become acquainted with oneof my cousins, and have laid him under some obligations."
"No, no;" replied Wolfstrom, with a grin, which showed his white teethto the back; "no, no: if you mean Monsieur de Rus, we have been veryintimate ever since that night when we three played together atVincennes, and when I won from you ten thousand livres, Monsieurd'Aubin."
"Well, well, I will win them back again," replied D'Aubin, "the firsttruce that comes."
"I don't know that," rejoined the German; "you are always unlucky withthe dice, D'Aubin: you should be more careful, or, by my faith, theJews will have all your fine estates in pawn."
D'Aubin coloured deeply; for, as Wolfstrom well knew, the hint that hethrew out of excessive expenses, and consequent embarrassments, wenthome. Mayenne, however, who by those words gained a new insight intothe situation of the Count, smiled, well satisfied; assured, from thatmoment, that those who had it in their power to grant or to withholdthe hand of the rich heiress of Menancourt would not be long withoutthe support of Philip d'Aubin.
The Count recovered himself in a moment; and, turning the matter offwith a pointed jest, which hit the German nearly as hard, he preparedto take his leave before anything more unpleasant could be said.
"I shall look for the performance of your promise, my lord Duke," hesaid, as he turned to depart; "and three days hence, shall hope tohear that my cousin has been liberated."
"Come, to make sure of it, yourself," replied Madame de Montpensier,holding out her hand, which he raised in gallant reverence to hislips; "come and make sure of it, yourself. Sup with me at ReneArmandi's, our dearly beloved perfumer, who has a right choice andtasteful cook; and, though the profane rabble insist upon it that heused to aid our godmother, of blessed memory, Catherine, mother ofmany bad kings, in sending to heaven, or the other abode, variouspersons, to prepare a place for her, we will ask him, on thisoccasion, to give us dainties, and not poisons."
"You must send me a safe-conduct, however," replied D'Aubin, laughing,"and I will come with all my heart."
"A safe-conduct you shall have," answered Mayenne, "and as many as youlike. But, remember, I do not make myself responsible for Armandi no,nor Catherine, either," he added, with a smile.
"Oh! I will trust her Highness," replied D'Aubin: "the only thing Ifear are her eyes;" and, with a low bow, and a glance which left itdifficult to determine whether the gallant part of his speech was jestor earnest, he took his leave, and, mounting his horse, rode awaytowards the gates of Paris.
"He teases me, that Count d'Aubin," said Madame de Montpensier: "Idon't know whether to love him, or to hate him."
"Oh! if he teases you
, you will love him, of course," replied theChevalier d'Aumale.
"I think you may love him, Kate," replied the Duke. "At all events,one thing is very certain, that Philip Count d'Aubin is varying fasttowards the League; and if you, Catherine, by some of your wildschemes, do not spoil my more sober ones, we shall soon have him asone of our most strenuous and thoroughgoing partisans: for you know,Wolfstrom," he added, laying his broad hand significantly upon theiron-covered shoulder of the German, who, together with three thousandlansquenets, had deserted from the party of Henry III. on the pretenceof wanting pay; "for you know, Wolfstrom, there is no one so zealousas a renegade!"