CHAPTER V. MAZARIN, THE MATCH-MAKER
Twixt Paris and Choisy there lies but a distance of some two leagues,which, given a fair horse, one may cover with ease in little more thanhalf an hour. So that as the twilight was deepening into night we drewrein before the hostelry of the Connetable, in the only square thelittle township boasts, and from the landlord I had that obsequiousreception which is ever accorded to him who travels with a body-servant.
I found Andrea installed in a fair-sized and comfortable apartment, tothe original decoration of which he added not a little by bestowing hisboots in the centre of the floor, his hat, sword, and baldrick on thetable, his cloak on one chair, and his doublet on another. He himselfsat toasting his feet before the blazing logs, which cast a warm,reddish glow upon his sable hair and dainty shirt of cambric.
He sprang up as I entered, and came towards me with a look of pleasureon his handsome, high-bred face, that did me good to see.
"So, you have come, De Luynes," he cried, putting forth his hand. "I didnot dare to hope that you would."
"No," I answered. "Truly it was not to be expected that I could beeasily lured from Paris just as my fortunes are nearing a high tide,and his Eminence proposing to make me a Marshal of France and create meDuke. As you say, you had scant grounds for hoping that my love for youwould suffice to make me renounce all these fine things for the meresake of accompanying you on your jaunt to Blois."
He laughed, then fell to thanking me for having rid him of Canaples. Icut him short at last, and in answer to his questions told him what hadpassed 'twixt his Eminence and me that afternoon. Then as the waiterentered to spread our supper, the conversation assumed a less delicatecharacter, until we were again alone with the table and its steamingviands between us.
"You have not told me yet, Andrea, what takes you to Blois," quoth Ithen.
"You shall learn. Little do you dream how closely interwoven are ourmorning adventures with this journey of mine. To begin with, I go toBlois to pay my devoirs to the lady whom his Eminence has selected formy future wife."
"You were then right in describing this as a mission of great delicacy."
"More than you think--I have never seen the lady."
"Never seen her? And you go a-wooing a woman you have never seen?"
"It is so. I have never seen her; but his Eminence has, and 't is hewho arranges the affair. Ah, the Cardinal is the greatest match-maker inFrance! My cousin Anna Martinozzi is destined for the Prince de Conti,my sisters Olympia and Marianne he also hopes to marry to princes of theblood, whilst I dare wager that he has thoughts of seating either Mariaor Hortensia upon the throne of France as the wife of Louis XIV., assoon as his Majesty shall have reached a marriageable age. You maylaugh, De Luynes, nevertheless all this may come to pass, for my unclehas great ambitions for his family, and it is even possible that shouldthat poor, wandering youth, Charles II. of England, ever return to thethrone of his fathers he may also become my brother-in-law. I am likelyto become well connected, De Luynes, so make a friend of me whilst Iam humble. So much for Mazarin's nieces. His nephews are too young foralliances just yet, saving myself; and for me his Eminence haschosen one of the greatest heiresses in France--Yvonne St. Albaret deCanaples."
"Whom?" I shouted.
He smiled.
"Curious, is it not? She is the sister of the man whom I quarrelledwith this morning, and whom you fought with this afternoon. Now you willunderstand my uncle's reasons for so strenuously desiring to prevent theduel at St. Germain. It appears that the old Chevalier de Canaples isas eager as the Cardinal to see his daughter wed to me, for his Eminencehas promised to create me Duke for a wedding gift. 'T will cost himlittle, and 't will please these Canaples mightily. Naturally, hadEugene de Canaples and I crossed swords, matters would have beenrendered difficult."
"When did you learn all this?" I inquired.
"To-day, after the duel, and when it was known what St. Auban andMontmedy had threatened me with. My uncle thought it well that I shouldwithdraw from Paris. He sent for me and told me what I have told you,adding that I had best seize the opportunity, whilst my presence atCourt was undesirable, to repair to Blois and get my wooing done. I inpart agreed with him. The lady is very rich, and I am told that she isbeautiful. I shall see her, and if she pleases me, I'll woo her. If not,I'll return to Paris."
"But her brother will oppose you."
"Her brother? Pooh! If he doesn't die of the sword-thrust you gave him,which I am told is in the region of the lung and passing dangerous, hewill at least be abed for a couple of months to come."
"But I, mon cher Andre? What role do you reserve for me, that you havedesired me to go with you?"
"The role of Mentor if you will. Methought you would prove a merrycomrade to help one o'er a tedious journey, and knowing that there waslittle to hold you to Paris, and probably sound reasons why you shoulddesire to quit it, meseemed that perhaps you would consent to bear mecompany. Who knows, my knight errant, what adventures may await you andwhat fortunes? If the heiress displeases me, it may be that she willplease you--or mayhap there is another heiress at Blois who will fallenamoured of those fierce moustachios."
I laughed with him at the improbability of such things befalling. Icarried in my bosom too large a heart, and one that was the property ofevery wench I met--for just so long as I chanced to be in her company.
It was no more than in harmony with this habit of mine, that when, nextmorning in the common-room of the Connetable, I espied Jeanneton, thelandlord's daughter, and remarked that she was winsome and shapely, witha complexion that would not have dishonoured a rose-petal, I permittedmyself to pinch her dainty cheek. She slapped mine in return, and inthis pleasant manner we became acquainted.
"Sweet Jeanneton," quoth I with a laugh, "that was mightily ill-done! Idid but pinch your cheek as one may pinch a sweet-smelling bud, so thatthe perfume of it may cling to one's fingers."
"And I, sir," was the pert rejoinder, "did but slap yours as one mayslap a misbehaving urchin's; so that he may learn better manners."
Nevertheless she was pleased with my courtly speech, and perchance alsowith my moustachios, for a smile took the place of the frown wherewithshe had at first confronted me. Now, if I had uttered glib pleasantriesin answer to her frowns, how many more did not her smiles wring from me!I discoursed to her in the very courtliest fashion of cows and pulletsand such other matters as interesting to her as they were mysteriousto me. I questioned her in a breath touching her father's pigs andthe swain she loved best in that little township, to all of which sheanswered me with a charming wit, which would greatly divert you did Ibut recall her words sufficiently to set them down. In five minuteswe had become the best friends in the world, which was attested by theprotecting arm that I slipped around her waist, as I asked her whethershe loved that village swain of hers better than she loved me, andrefused to believe her when she answered that she did.
Outside two men were talking, one calling for a farrier, and wheninformed that the only one in the village was absent and not likely toreturn till noon, demanding relays of horses. The other--probably thehostler--answered him that the Connetable was not a post-house andthat no horses were to be had there. Then a woman's voice, sweet yetcommanding, rose above theirs.
"Very well, Guilbert," it said. "We will await this farrier's return."
"Let me go, Monsieur!" cried Jeanneton. "Some one comes."
Now for myself I cared little who might come, but methought that it waslikely to do poor Jeanneton's fair name no benefit, if the arm ofGaston de Luynes were seen about her waist. And so I obeyed her, but notquickly enough; for already a shadow lay athwart the threshold, and inthe doorway stood a woman, whose eye took in the situation before we hadaltered it sufficiently to avert suspicion. To my amazement I beheld thelady of the coach--she who had saved me from the mob in Place Vendome,and touching whose identity I could have hazarded a shrewd guess.
In her eyes also I saw the light of recognition which swiftly cha
nged toone of scorn. Then they passed from me to the vanishing Jeanneton, andmethought that she was about to call her back. She paused, however, and,turning to the lackey who followed at her heels.
"Guilbert," she said, "be good enough to call the landlord, and bid himprovide me with an apartment for the time that we may be forced to spendhere."
But at this juncture the host himself came hurrying forward with manybows and endless rubbing of hands, which argued untold deference. Heregretted that the hostelry of the Connetable, being but a poor inn,seldom honoured as it was at that moment, possessed but one suite ofprivate apartments, and that was now occupied by a most noble gentleman.The lady tapped her foot, and as at that moment her companion (who wasnone other than the fair-haired doll I had seen with her on the previousday) entered the room, she turned to speak with her, whilst I moved awaytowards the window.
"Will this gentleman," she inquired, "lend me one of his rooms, thinkyou?"
"Helas, Mademoiselle, he has but two, a bedroom and an ante-chamber, andhe is still abed."
"Oh!" she cried in pretty anger, "this is insufferable! 'T is yourfault, Guilbert, you fool. Am I, then, to spend the day here in thecommon-room?"
"No, no, Mademoiselle," exclaimed the host in his most soothing accents."Only for an hour, or less, perhaps, until this very noble lord isrisen, when assuredly--for he is young and very gallant--he will resignone or both of his rooms to you."
More was said between them, but my attention was suddenly drawnelsewhere. Michelot burst into the room, disaster written on his face.
"Monsieur," he cried, in great alarm, "the Marquis de St. Aubanis riding down the street with the Vicomte de Vilmorin and anothergentleman."
I rapped out an oath at the news; they had got scent of Andrea'swhereabouts, and were after him like sleuth-hounds on a trail.
"Remain here, Michelot," I answered in a low voice. "Tell them thatM. de Mancini is not here, that the only occupant of the inn is yourmaster, a gentleman from Normandy, or Picardy, or where you will.See that they do not guess our presence--the landlord fortunately isignorant of M. de Mancini's name."
There was a clatter of horses' hoofs without, and I was barely in timeto escape by the door leading to the staircase, when St. Auban's heavyvoice rang out, calling the landlord.
"I am in search of a gentleman named Andrea de Mancini," he said. "I amtold that he has journeyed hither, and that he is here at present. Am Irightly informed?"
I determined to remain where I was, and hear that conversation to theend.
"There is a gentleman here," answered the host, "but I am ignorant ofhis name. I will inquire."
"You may spare yourself the trouble," Michelot interposed. "That is notthe gentleman's name. I am his servant."
There was a moment's pause, then came Vilmorin's shrill voice.
"You lie, knave! M. de Mancini is here. You are M. de Luynes's lackey,and where the one is, there shall we find the other."
"M. de Luynes?" came a voice unknown to me. "That is Mancini'ssword-blade of a friend, is it not? Well, why does he hide himself?Where is he? Where is your master, rascal?"
"I am here, Messieurs," I answered, throwing wide the door, andappearing, grim and arrogant, upon the threshold.
Mort de ma vie! Had they beheld the Devil, St. Auban and Vilmorin couldnot have looked less pleased than they did when their eyes lighted uponme, standing there surveying them with a sardonic grin.
St. Auban muttered an oath, Vilmorin stifled a cry, whilst he who had soloudly called to know where I hid myself--a frail little fellow, in theuniform of the gardes du corps--now stood silent and abashed.
The two women, who had withdrawn into a dark and retired corner of theapartment, stood gazing with interest upon this pretty scene.
"Well, gentlemen?" I asked in a tone of persiflage, as I took a steptowards them. "Have you naught to say to me, now that I have answeredyour imperious summons? What! All dumb?"
"Our affair is not with you," said St. Auban, curtly.
"Pardon! Why, then, did you inquire where I was?"
"Messieurs," exclaimed Vilmorin, whose face assumed the pallor usual toit in moments of peril, "meseems we have been misinformed, and that M.de Mancini is not here. Let us seek elsewhere."
"Most excellent advice, gentlemen," I commented,--"seek elsewhere."
"Monsieur," cried the little officer, turning purple, "it occurs to methat you are mocking us."
"Mocking you! Mocking you? Mocking a gentleman who has been tied to sohuge a sword as yours. Surely--surely, sir, you do not think--"
"I'll not endure it," he broke in. "You shall answer to me for this."
"Have a care, sir," I cried in alarm as he rushed forward. "Have a care,sir, lest you trip over your sword."
He halted, drew himself up, and, with a magnificent gesture: "I amArmand de Malpertuis, lieutenant of his Majesty's guards," he announced,"and I shall be grateful if you will do me the honour of taking a turnwith me, outside."
"I am flattered beyond measure, M. Malappris--"
"Mal-per-tuis," he corrected furiously.
"Malpertuis," I echoed. "I am honoured beyond words, but I do not wishto take a turn."
"Mille diables, sir! Don't you understand? We must fight."
"Must we, indeed? Again I am honoured; but, Monsieur, I don't fightsparrows."
"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" cried St. Auban, thrusting himself between us."Malpertuis, have the goodness to wait until one affair is concludedbefore you create a second one. Now, M. de Luynes, will you tell mewhether M. de Mancini is here or not?"
"What if he should be?"
"You will be wise to withdraw--we shall be three to two."
"Three to two! Surely, Marquis, your reckoning is at fault. You cannotcount the Vicomte there as one; his knees are knocking together; at besthe is but a woman in man's clothes. As for your other friend, unless hisheight misleads me, he is but a boy. Therefore, Monsieur, you see thatthe advantage is with us. We are two men opposed to a man, a woman, anda child, so that--"
"In Heaven's name, sir," cried St. Auban, again interposing himselfbetwixt me and the bellicose Malpertuis, "will you cease thisfoolishness? A word with you in private, M. de Luynes."
I permitted him to take me by the sleeve, and lead me aside, wonderingthe while what curb it was that he was setting upon his temper, and whatwily motives he might have for adopting so conciliatory a tone.
With many generations to come, the name of Cesar de St. Auban mustperforce be familiar as that of one of the greatest roysterers and mostcourtly libertines of the early days of Louis XIV., as well as that of arabid anti-cardinalist and frondeur, and one of the earliest of that newcabal of nobility known as the petits-maitres, whose leader the Princede Conde was destined to become a few years later. He was a man of aboutmy own age, that is to say, between thirty-two and thirty-three, andof my own frame, tall, spare, and active. On his florid, debonnaircountenance was stamped his character of bon-viveur. In dress hewas courtly in the extreme. His doublet and haut-de-chausses were ofwine-coloured velvet, richly laced, and he still affected the hangingsleeves of a fast-disappearing fashion. Valuable lace filled the topsof his black boots, a valuable jewel glistened here and there uponhis person, and one must needs have pronounced him a fop but for thestrength and resoluteness of his bearing, and the long rapier that hungfrom his gold-embroidered baldrick. Such in brief is a portrait ofthe man who now confronted me, his fine blue eyes fixed upon my face,wherein methinks he read but little, search though he might.
"M. de Luynes," he murmured at last, "you appear to find entertainmentin making enemies, and you do it wantonly."
"Have you brought me aside to instruct me in the art of making friends?"
"Possibly, M. de Luynes; and without intending an offence, permit me toremark that you need them."
"Mayhap. But I do not seek them."
"I have it in my heart to wish that you did; for I, M. de Luynes, seekto make a friend of you. Nay, do not smile in that unbel
ieving fashion.I have long esteemed you for those very qualities of dauntlessness anddefiance which have brought you so rich a crop of hatred. If youdoubt my words, perhaps you will recall my attitude towards you in thehorse-market yesterday, and let that speak. Without wishing to remindyou of a service done, I may yet mention that I stood betwixt you andthe mob that sought to avenge my friend Canaples. He was my friend; youstood there, as indeed you have always stood, in the attitude of a foe.You wounded Canaples, maltreated Vilmorin, defied me; and yet but for myintervention, mille diables sir, you had been torn to pieces."
"All this I grant is very true, Monsieur," I made reply, with deepsuspicion in my soul. "Yet, pardon me, if I confess that to me it provesno more than that you acted as a generous enemy. Pardon my bluntnessalso--but what profit do you look to make from gaining my friendship?"
"You are frank, Monsieur," he said, colouring slightly, "I will be nonethe less so. I am a frondeur, an anti-cardinalist. In a word, I ama gentleman and a Frenchman. An interloping foreigner, miserly,mean-souled, and Jesuitical, springs up, wins himself into the gracesof a foolish, impetuous, wilful queen, and climbs the ladder which sheholds for him to the highest position in France. I allude to Mazarin;this Cardinal who is not a priest; this minister of France who is not aFrenchman; this belittler of nobles who is not a gentleman."
"Mort Dieu, Monsieur--"
"One moment, M. de Luynes. This adventurer, not content with themillions which his avaricious talons have dragged from the people forhis own benefit, seeks, by means of illustrious alliances, to enrich apack of beggarly nieces and nephews that he has rescued from the squalorof their Sicilian homes to bring hither. His nieces, the Mancinis andMartinozzis, he is marrying to Dukes and Princes. 'T is not nice towitness, but 't is the affair of the men who wed them. In seeking,however, to marry his nephew Andrea to one of the greatest heiresses inFrance, he goes too far. Yvonne de Canaples is for some noble countrymanof her own--there are many suitors to her hand--and for no nephew ofGiulio Mazarini. Her brother Eugene, himself, thinks thus, and therein,M. de Luynes, you have the real motive of the quarrel which he provokedwith Andrea, and which, had you not interfered, could have had but oneending."
"Why do you tell me all this, Monsieur?" I inquired coldly, betrayingnone of the amazement his last words gave birth to.
"So that you may know the true position of affairs, and, knowing it, seethe course which the name you bear must bid you follow. Because Canaplesfailed am I here to-day. I had not counted upon meeting you, but sinceI have met you, I have set the truth before you, confident that youwill now withdraw from an affair to which no real interest can bind you,leaving matters to pursue their course."
He eyed me, methought, almost anxiously from under his brows, as heawaited my reply. It was briefer than he looked for.
"You have wasted time, Monsieur."
"How? You persist?"
"Yes. I persist. Yet for the Cardinal I care nothing. Mazarin hasdismissed me from his service unjustly and unpaid. He has forbidden mehis nephew's company. In fact, did he know of my presence here with M.de Mancini, he would probably carry out his threat to hang me."
"Ciel!" cried St. Auban, "you are mad, if that be so. France is dividedinto two parties, cardinalists and anti-cardinalists. You, sir, withoutbelonging to either, stand alone, an enemy to both. Your attitude ispreposterous!"
"Nay, sir, not alone. There is Andrea de Mancini. The boy is my onlyfriend in a world of enemies. I am growing fond of him, Monsieur, andI will stand by him, while my arm can wield a sword, in all that mayadvance his fortunes and his happiness. That, Monsieur, is my lastword."
"Do not forget, M. de Luynes," he said--his suaveness all departed ofa sudden, and his tone full of menace and acidity--"do not forget thatwhen a wall may not be scaled it may be broken through."
"Aye, Monsieur, but many of those who break through stand in dangerof being crushed by the falling stones," I answered, entering into thespirit of his allegory.
"There are many ways of striking," he said.
"And many ways of being struck," I retorted with a sneer.
Our words grew sinister, our eyes waxed fiery, and more might havefollowed had not the door leading to the staircase opened at that momentto admit Andrea himself. He came, elegant in dress and figure, with asmile upon his handsome young face, whose noble features gave the lieto St. Auban's assertion that he had been drawn from a squalid Sicilianhome. Such faces are not bred in squalor.
In utter ignorance of the cabal against him, he greeted St. Auban--whowas well known to him--with a graceful bow, and also Vilmorin, who stoodin the doorway with Malpertuis, and who at the sight of Mancini grewvisibly ill at ease. In coming to Choisy, the Vicomte had clearlyexpected to do no more than second St. Auban in the duel which hethought to see forced upon Andrea. He now realised that if a fight therewas, he might, by my presence, be forced into it. Malpertuis lookedfierce and tugged at his moustachios, whilst his companions returnedAndrea's salutation--St. Auban gravely, and Vilmorin hesitatingly.
"Ha, Gaston," said the boy, advancing towards me, "our host tells methat two ladies who have been shipwrecked here wish to do me the honourof occupying my apartments for an hour or so. Ha, there they are," headded, as the two girls came suddenly forward. Then bowing--"Mesdames, Iam enchanted to set the poor room at your disposal for as long as it mayplease you to honour it."
As the ladies--of whose presence St. Auban had been unaware--appearedbefore us, I shot a glance at the Marquis, and, from the start he gaveupon beholding them, I saw that things were as I had suspected.
Before they could reply to Andrea, St. Auban suddenly advanced:
"Mesdemoiselles," quoth he, "forgive me if in this miserable light I didnot earlier discover your presence and offer you my services. I do sonow, with the hope that you will honour me by making use of them."
"Merci, M. de St. Auban," replied the dark-haired one--whom I guessedto be none other than Yvonne de Canaples herself--"but, since thisgentleman so gallantly cedes his apartments to us, all our needs aresatisfied. It would be churlish to refuse that which is so graciouslyproffered."
Her tone was cold in the extreme, as also was the inclination of herhead wherewith she favoured the Marquis. In arrant contrast were thepretty words of thanks she addressed to Andrea, who stood by, blushinglike a girl, and a damnable scowl did this contrast draw from St. Auban,a scowl that lasted until, escorted by the landlord, the two ladies hadwithdrawn.
There was an awkward pause when they were gone, and methought from thelook on St. Auban's face that he was about to provoke a fight after all.Not so, however, for, after staring at us like a clown whilst one mighttell a dozen, he turned and strode to the door, calling for his horseand those of his companions.
"Au revoir, M. de Luynes," he said significantly as he got into thesaddle.
"Au revoir, M. de Luynes," said also Malpertuis, coming close up to me."We shall meet again, believe me."
"Pray God that we may not, if you would die in your bed," I answeredmockingly. "Adieu!"