Raoul followed the well-known road, so dear to his memory, which ledfrom Blois to the residence of the Comte de la Fere.
The reader will dispense with a second description of that habitation:he, perhaps, has been with us there before, and knows it. Only, sinceour last journey thither, the walls had taken a grayer tint, and thebrickwork assumed a more harmonious copper tone; the trees had grown,and many that then only stretched their slender branches along the topsof the hedges, now bushy, strong, and luxuriant, cast around, beneathboughs swollen with sap, great shadows of blossoms of fruit for thebenefit of the traveler.
Raoul perceived, from a distance, the two little turrets, the dove-cotein the elms, and the flights of pigeons, which wheeled incessantlyaround that brick cone, seemingly without power to quit it, like thesweet memories which hover round a spirit at peace.
As he approached, he heard the noise of the pulleys which grated underthe weight of the massy pails; he also fancied he heard the melancholymoaning of the water which falls back again into the wells--a sad,funereal, solemn sound, which strikes the ear of the child and thepoet--both dreamers--which the English call splash; Arabian poets,gasgachau; and which we Frenchmen, who would be poets, can onlytranslate by a paraphrase--the noise of water falling into water.
It was more than a year since Raoul had been to visit his father. He hadpassed the whole time in the household of M. le Prince. In fact, afterall the commotions of the Fronde, of the early period of which weformerly attempted to give a sketch, Louis de Conde had made a public,solemn, and frank reconciliation with the court. During all the timethat the rupture between the king and the prince had lasted, the prince,who had long entertained a great regard for Bragelonne, had in vainoffered him advantages of the most dazzling kind for a young man.The Comte de la Fere, still faithful to his principles of loyaltyand royalty, one day developed before his son in the vaults of SaintDenis,--the Comte de la Fere, in the name of his son, had alwaysdeclined them. Moreover, instead of following M. de Conde in hisrebellion, the vicomte had followed M. de Turenne, fighting for theking. Then when M. de Turenne, in his turn, had appeared to abandonthe royal cause, he had quitted M. de Turenne, as he had quitted M. deConde. It resulted from this invariable line of conduct that, as Condeand Turenne had never been conquerors of each other but under thestandard of the king, Raoul, however young, had ten victories inscribedon his list of services, and not one defeat from which his bravery orconscience had to suffer.
Raoul, therefore, had, in compliance with the wish of his father, servedobstinately and passively the fortunes of Louis XIV., in spite of thetergiversations which were endemic, and, it might be said, inevitable,at that period.
M. de Conde, on being restored to favor, had at once availed himselfof all the privileges of the amnesty to ask for many things back againwhich had been granted him before, and among others, Raoul. M. de laFere, with his invariable good sense, had immediately sent him again tothe prince.
A year, then, had passed away since the separation of the father andson; a few letters had softened, but not removed, the pains of absence.We have seen that Raoul had left at Blois another love in addition tofilial love. But let us do him this justice--if it had not been forchance and Mademoiselle de Montalais, two great temptations, Raoul,after delivering his message, would have galloped off towards hisfather's house, turning his head round, perhaps, but without stoppingfor a single instant, even if Louise had held out her arms to him.
So the first part of the journey was given by Raoul to regretting thepast which he had been forced to quit so quickly, that is to say, hislady-love; and the other part to the friend he was about to join, somuch too slowly for his wishes.
Raoul found the garden-gate open, and rode straight in, withoutregarding the long arms, raised in anger, of an old man dressed in ajacket of violet-colored wool, and a large cap of faded velvet.
The old man, who was weeding with his hands a bed of dwarf roses andmarguerites, was indignant at seeing a horse thus traversing his sandedand nicely-raked walks. He even ventured a vigorous "Humph!" which madethe cavalier turn round. Then there was a change of scene; for no soonerhad he caught sight of Raoul's face, than the old man sprang up and setoff in the direction of the house, amidst interrupted growlings, whichappeared to be paroxysms of wild delight.
When arrived at the stables, Raoul gave his horse to a little lackey,and sprang up the perron with an ardor that would have delighted theheart of his father.
He crossed the ante-chamber, the dining-room, and the salon, withoutmeeting with any one; at length, on reaching the door of M. de la Fere'sapartment, he rapped impatiently, and entered almost without waiting forthe word "Enter!" which was vouchsafed him by a voice at once sweet andserious. The comte was seated at a table covered with papers and books;he was still the noble, handsome gentleman of former days, but time hadgiven to this nobleness and beauty a more solemn and distinct character.A brow white and void of wrinkles, beneath his long hair, now more whitethan black; an eye piercing and mild, under the lids of a young man;his mustache, fine but slightly grizzled, waved over lips of a pure anddelicate model, as if they had never been curled by mortal passions; aform straight and supple; an irreproachable but thin hand--this was whatremained of the illustrious gentleman whom so many illustrious mouthshad praised under the name of Athos. He was engaged in correcting thepages of a manuscript book, entirely filled by his own hand.
Raoul seized his father by the shoulders, by the neck, as he could,and embraced him so tenderly and so rapidly, that the comte had neitherstrength nor time to disengage himself, or to overcome his paternalemotions.
"What! you here, Raoul,--you! Is it possible?" said he.
"Oh, monsieur, monsieur, what joy to see you once again!"
"But you don't answer me, vicomte. Have you leave of absence, or hassome misfortune happened at Paris?"
"Thank God, monsieur," replied Raoul, calming himself by degrees,"nothing has happened but what is fortunate. The king is going to bemarried, as I had the honor of informing you in my last letter, and, onhis way to Spain, he will pass through Blois."
"To pay a visit to Monsieur?"
"Yes, monsieur le comte. So, fearing to find him unprepared, or wishingto be particularly polite to him, monsieur le prince sent me forward tohave the lodgings ready."
"You have seen Monsieur?" asked the vicomte, eagerly.
"I have had that honor."
"At the castle?"
"Yes, monsieur," replied Raoul, casting down his eyes, because, nodoubt, he had felt there was something more than curiosity in thecomte's inquiries.
"Ah, indeed, vicomte? Accept my compliments thereupon."
Raoul bowed.
"But you have seen some one else at Blois?"
"Monsieur, I saw her royal highness, Madame."
"That's very well: but it is not Madame that I mean."
Raoul colored deeply, but made no reply.
"You do not appear to understand me, monsieur le vicomte," persisted M.de la Fere, without accenting his words more strongly, but with a ratherseverer look.
"I understand you quite plainly, monsieur," replied Raoul, "and if Ihesitate a little in my reply, you are well assured I am not seeking fora falsehood."
"No, you cannot tell a lie, and that makes me so astonished you shouldbe so long in saying yes or no."
"I cannot answer you without understanding you very well, and if I haveunderstood you, you will take my first words in ill part. You will bedispleased, no doubt, monsieur le comte, because I have seen----"
"Mademoiselle de la Valliere--have you not?"
"It was of her you meant to speak, I know very well, monsieur," saidRaoul, with inexpressible sweetness.
"And I asked you if you have seen her."
"Monsieur, I was ignorant, when I entered the castle, that Mademoisellede la Valliere was there; it was only on my return, after I hadperformed my mission, that chance brought us together. I have had thehonor of paying my respects to her."
&
nbsp; "But what do you call the chance that led you into the presence ofMademoiselle de la Valliere?"
"Mademoiselle de Montalais, monsieur."
"And who is Mademoiselle de Montalais?"
"A young lady I did not know before, whom I had never seen. She is maidof honor to Madame."
"Monsieur le vicomte, I will push my interrogatory no further, andreproach myself with having carried it so far. I had desired youto avoid Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and not to see her without mypermission. Oh, I am quite sure you have told me the truth, and that youtook no measures to approach her. Chance has done me this injury; I donot accuse you of it. I will be content then, with what I formerlysaid to you concerning this young lady. I do not reproach her withanything--God is my witness! only it is not my intention or wish thatyou should frequent her place of residence. I beg you once more, my dearRaoul, to understand that."
It was plain the limpid eyes of Raoul were troubled at this speech.
"Now, my friend," said the comte, with his soft smile, and in hiscustomary tone, "let us talk of other matters. You are returning,perhaps, to your duty?"
"No, monsieur, I have no duty for to-day, except the pleasure ofremaining with you. The prince kindly appointed me no other: which wasso much in accord with my wish."
"Is the king well?"
"Perfectly."
"And monsieur le prince also?"
"As usual, monsieur."
The comte forgot to inquire after Mazarin; that was an old habit.
"Well, Raoul, since you are entirely mine, I will give up my whole dayto you. Embrace me--again, again! You are at home, vicomte! Ah, thereis our old Grimaud! Come in, Grimaud: monsieur le vicomte is desirous ofembracing you likewise."
The good old man did not require to be twice told; he rushed in withopen arms, Raoul meeting him halfway.
"Now, if you please, we will go into the garden, Raoul. I will showyou the new lodging I have had prepared for you during your leave ofabsence, and whilst examining the last winter's plantations and twosaddle-horses I have just acquired, you will give me all the news of ourfriends in Paris."
The comte closed his manuscript, took the young man's arm, and went outinto the garden with him.
Grimaud looked at Raoul with a melancholy air as the young man passedout; observing that his head nearly touched the traverse of the doorway,stroking his white royale, he slowly murmured:
"How he has grown!"
CHAPTER 5. In which Something will be said of Cropoli--of Cropoli and ofa Great Unknown Painter.