CHAPTER XIX.
THE ABBE DUBOIS.
All the world knows the commencement of the Abbe Dubois. We will notenlarge on the history of his youth, which may be found in the memoirsof the time, and particularly in those of the implacable Saint-Simon.Dubois has not been calumniated--it was impossible; but all the evil hasbeen told of him, and not quite all the good.
There was in his antecedents, and in those of Alberoni, his rival, agreat resemblance, but the genius was on the side of Dubois; and in thelong struggle with Spain, which the nature of our subject does not allowus to do more than indicate, all the advantage was with the son of theapothecary over the son of the gardener. Dubois preceded Figaro, to whomhe probably served as type; but, more fortunate than he, he passed fromthe office to the drawing-room, and from the drawing-room to the court.All these successive advantages were the rewards of various services,private or public.
His last negotiation was his chef-d'oeuvre; it was more than theratification of the treaty of Utrecht; it was a treaty more advantageousstill for France. The emperor not only renounced all right to the crownof Spain, as Philip V. had renounced all his to the crown of France, buthe entered, with England and Holland, into a league, formed at onceagainst Spain on the south, and against Sweden and Russia on the north.The division of the five or six great states of Europe was establishedby this treaty on so solid and just a basis that, after a hundred yearsof wars and revolutions, all these states, except the empire, remain inthe same situation that they then were.
On his part, the regent, not very particular by nature, loved this man,who had educated him, and whose fortune he had made. The regentappreciated in Dubois the talents he had, and was not too severe on thevices from which he was not exempt. There was, however, between theregent and Dubois an abyss. The regent's vices and virtues were those ofa gentleman, Dubois' those of a lackey. In vain the regent said to him,at each new favor that he granted, "Dubois, take care, it is only alivery-coat that I am putting on your back." Dubois, who cared about thegift, and not about the manner in which it was given, replied, with thatapish grimace which belonged to him, "I am your valet, monseigneur,dress me always the same."
Dubois, however, loved the regent, and was devoted to him. He felt thatthis powerful hand alone had raised him from the sink in which he hadbeen found, and to which, hated and despised as he was by all, a signfrom the master might restore him. He watched with a personal interestthe hatreds and plots which might reach the prince; and more than once,by the aid of a police often better managed than that of thelieutenant-general, and which extended, by means of Madame de Tencin,into the highest aristocracy, and, by means of La Fillon, to the lowestgrades of society, he had defeated conspiracies of which Messire Voyerd'Argenson had not even heard a whisper.
Therefore the regent, who appreciated the services which Dubois hadrendered him, and could still render him, received the ambassador withopen arms. As soon as he saw him appear, he rose, and, contrary to thecustom of most princes, who depreciate the service in order to diminishthe reward--
"Dubois," said he, joyously, "you are my best friend, and the treaty ofthe quadruple alliance will be more profitable to King Louis XV. thanall the victories of his ancestor, Louis XIV."
"Bravo!" said Dubois, "you do me justice, monseigneur, but, unluckily,every one is not equally grateful."
"Ah! ah!" said the regent, "have you met my mother? She has just leftthe room."
"And how is his majesty?" asked Dubois, with a smile full of adetestable hope. "He was very poorly when I left."
"Well, abbe, very well," answered the prince, gravely. "God willpreserve him to us, I hope, for the happiness of France, and the shameof our calumniators."
"And monseigneur sees him every day as usual?"
"I saw him yesterday, and I even spoke to him of you."
"Bah! and what did you tell him?"
"I told him that in all probability you had just secured thetranquillity of his reign."
"And what did the king answer?"
"What did he answer! He answered, my friend, that he did not think abbeswere so useful."
"His majesty is very witty; and old Villeroy was there, without doubt?"
"As he always is."
"With your permission, I must send that old fellow to look for me at theother end of France some fine morning. His insolence to you begins totire my patience."
"Leave him alone, Dubois, leave him alone, everything will come intime."
"Even my archbishopric."
"Ha! What is this new folly?"
"New folly, monseigneur! on my honor nothing can be more serious."
"Oh! this letter from the king of England, which asks me for anarchbishopric for you--"
"Did your highness not recognize the style?"
"You dictated it, you rascal!"
"To Nericault Destouches, who got the king to sign it."
"And the king signed it as it is, without saying anything?"
"Exactly. 'You wish,' said he to our poet, 'that a Protestant princeshould interfere to make an archbishop in France. The regent will readmy recommendation, will laugh at it, and pay no attention to it.' 'Yes,yes, sire,' replied Destouches, who has more wit than he puts into hisverses, 'the regent will laugh at it, but after all will do what yourmajesty asks.'"
"Destouches lied."
"Destouches never spoke more truly, monseigneur."
"You an archbishop! King George would deserve that, in return, I shouldpoint out to him some rascal like you for the archbishopric of York whenit becomes vacant."
"I defy you to find my equal--I know but one man."
"And who is he? I should like to know him."
"Oh, it is useless, he is already placed, and, as his place is good, hewould not change it for all the archbishoprics in the world."
"Insolent!"
"With whom are you angry, monseigneur?"
"With a fellow who wants to be an archbishop, and who has never yetofficiated at the communion table."
"I shall be all the better prepared."
"But the archdeaconship, the deaconship, the priesthood."
"Bah! We will find somebody; some second Jean des Entomeures, who willdispatch all that in an hour."
"I defy you to find him."
"It is already done."
"And who is that?"
"Your first almoner, the bishop of Nantes, Tressan."
"The fellow has an answer for everything.--But your marriage?"
"My marriage!"
"Yes, Madame Dubois."
"Madame Dubois! Who is that?"
"What, fellow, have you assassinated her?"
"Monseigneur forgets that it is only three days since he gave her herquarter's pension."
"And if she should oppose your archbishopric?"
"I defy her; she has no proofs."
"She may get a copy of the marriage certificate."
"There is no copy without an original."
"And the original?"
"Here it is," said Dubois, drawing from his pocket a little paper,containing a pinch of ashes.
"What! and are you not afraid that I shall send you to the galleys?"
"If you wish to do so, now is the time, for I hear the lieutenant ofpolice speaking in the antechamber."
"Who sent for him?"
"I did."
"What for?"
"To find fault with him."
"For what reason?"
"You will hear. It is understood then--I am an archbishop."
"And have you already chosen your archbishopric?"
"Yes, I take Cambray."
"Peste! you are not modest."
"Oh, mon Dieu! it is not for the profit, it is for the honor ofsucceeding Fenelon."
"Shall we have a new Telemachus?"
"Yes, if your highness will find me a Penelope in the kingdom."
"Apropos of Penelope, you know that Madame de Sabran--"
"I know all."
"Ah, abbe; your police, the
n, is as good as ever!"
"You shall judge."
Dubois stretched out his hand, rang the bell, and a messenger appeared.
"Send the lieutenant-general," said Dubois.
"But, abbe, it seems to me that it is you who give orders here now."
"It is for your good, monseigneur.--Let me do it."
"Well, well!" said the regent, "one must be indulgent to new-comers."
Messire Voyer d'Argenson entered--he was as ugly as Dubois, but hisugliness was of a very different kind. He was tall, thick, and heavy;wore an immense wig, had great bushy eyebrows, and was invariably takenfor the devil by children who saw him for the first time. But with allthis, he was supple, active, skillful, intriguing, and fulfilled hisoffice conscientiously, when he was not turned from his nocturnal dutiesby other occupations.
"Messire d'Argenson," said Dubois, without even leaving thelieutenant-general time to finish his bow, "monseigneur, who has nosecrets from me, has sent for you, that you may tell me in what costumehe went out last night, in whose house he passed the evening, and whathappened to him on leaving it. I should not need to ask these questionsif I had not just arrived from London; you understand, that as Itraveled post from Calais, I can know nothing of them."
"But," said D'Argenson, who thought these questions concealed somesnare, "did anything extraordinary happen last evening? I confess Ireceived no report; I hope no accident happened to monseigneur?"
"Oh, no, none; only monseigneur, who went out at eight o'clock in theevening, as a French guard, to sup with Madame de Sabran, was nearlycarried off on leaving her house."
"Carried off!" cried D'Argenson, turning pale, while the regent couldnot restrain a cry of astonishment, "carried off! and by whom?"
"Ah!" said Dubois, "that is what we do not know, and what you ought toknow, Messire d'Argenson, if you had not passed your time at the conventof the Madeleine de Traisnel."
"What, D'Argenson! you, a great magistrate, give such an example!" saidthe regent, laughing. "Never mind, I will receive you well, if you come,as you have already done in the time of the late king, to bring me, atthe end of the year, a journal of my acts."
"Monseigneur," said the lieutenant, stammering, "I hope your highnessdoes not believe a word of what the Abbe Dubois says."
"What! instead of being humiliated by your ignorance, you give me thelie. Monseigneur, I will take you to D'Argenson's seraglio; an abbess oftwenty-six, and novices of fifteen; a boudoir in India chintz, and cellshung with tapestry. Oh, Monsieur le Lieutenant de Police knows how to dothings well."
The regent held his sides with laughing, seeing D'Argenson's disturbedface.
"But," replied the lieutenant of police, trying to bring back theconversation to the less disagreeable, though more humiliating subject,"there is not much merit, abbe, in your knowing the details of an event,which, doubtless, monseigneur himself told you."
"On my honor," said the regent, "I did not tell him a single word."
"Listen, lieutenant; is it monseigneur also who told me the story of thenovice of the Faubourg Saint-Marceau, whom you so nearly carried offover the convent walls? Is it monseigneur who told me of that housewhich you have had built under a false name, against the wall of theconvent of the Madeleine, so that you can enter at all hours by a doorhidden in a closet, and which opens on to the sacristy of the chapel ofSaint Mark, your patron? No, no, all that, my dear lieutenant, is theinfancy of the art, and he who only knew this, would not, I hope, beworthy to hold a candle to you."
"Listen, abbe," replied the lieutenant of police with a grave air, "ifall you have told me about monseigneur is true, the thing is serious andI am in the wrong not to know it, if any one does--but there is no timelost. We will find the culprits, and punish them as they deserve."
"But," said the regent, "you must not attach too much importance tothis; they were, probably, some drunken officers who wished to amusetheir companions."
"It is a conspiracy, monseigneur," replied Dubois, "which emanates fromthe Spanish embassy, passing through the Arsenal before it arrives atthe Palais Royal."
"Again, Dubois?"
"Always, monseigneur."
"And you, D'Argenson, what is your opinion?"
"That your enemies are capable of anything, monseigneur; but that wewill mar their plots, whatever they may be, I give you my word."
At this moment the door opened, and the Duc de Maine was announced, whocame to attend the council, and whose privilege it was, as prince of theblood, not to be kept waiting. He advanced with that timid and uneasyair which was natural to him, casting a side-glance over the threepersons in whose presence he found himself, as though to discover whatsubject occupied them at his entrance. The regent understood histhought.
"Welcome, my cousin," said he; "these two bad fellows--whom youknow--have just been assuring me that you are conspiring against me."
The Duc de Maine turned as pale as death, and was obliged to lean forsupport on the crutch-shaped stick which he carried.
"And I hope, monseigneur," replied he, in a voice which he vainlyendeavored to render firm, "that you did not give ear to such acalumny."
"Oh, mon Dieu! no!" replied the regent negligently; "but they areobstinate, and declare that they will take you one day in the fact. I donot believe it, but at any rate I give you warning; be on your guardagainst them, for they are clever fellows, I warrant you."
The Duc de Maine opened his mouth to give some contemptible excuse, whenthe door opened again, and the groom announced successively the Duc deBourbon, the Prince de Conti, the Duc de St. Simon, the Duc de Guiche,captain of the guards; the Duc Noailles, president of the council offinance; the Duc d'Antin, superintendent of ships; the Marshald'Uxelles, president of the council of foreign affairs; the Archbishopof Troyes; the Marquis de Lavrilliere; the Marquis d'Efflat; the Duc deLaforce; the Marquis de Torcy; and the Marshals de Villeroy, d'Estrees,de Villars, and de Bezons.
As these grave personages were gathered together to deliberate upon thetreaty of the quadruple alliance, brought from London by Dubois, and asthe treaty of the quadruple alliance only figures secondarily in thishistory, our readers will excuse our leaving the sumptuousreception-room in the Palais Royal, to lead them back to the attic inthe Rue du Temps-Perdu.