Two days later, Madame de Cambes had rejoined the princess.
XII
Madame de Cambes had many times instinctively considered what might come of attracting the hatred of someone like Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld, but since she was young, beautiful, rich and well in favour, she did not realize that this hatred, assuming that it should occur, could ever have a fateful influence on her life.
However, when Madame de Cambes knew for certain that he had been enough concerned about her to have learned what he knew, she decided to make the first move with the princess.
‘Madame,’ she said, in reply to the compliments that the princess was paying her, ‘don’t be too quick to congratulate me on the skill that I am supposed to have shown on that occasion, because some people are suggesting that the officer that we fooled, in reality knew the truth about the real and the pretend Princess de Condé.’
However, since this assumption denied the princess the share of the credit that she claimed for her part in carrying out the ruse, she was naturally unwilling to believe this.
‘Yes, yes, my dear Claire,’ she replied. ‘Yes, I understand. Now that our gentleman sees that we have tricked him, he is trying to claim that he was humouring us. Unfortunately, he is taking this line a bit late – after waiting to be disgraced for his mistake! But, incidentally, you told me that you met Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld on your way?’
‘Yes, Madame.’
‘What news did he give you?’
‘He told me he was going to Turenne to consult Monsieur de Bouillon.’
‘Yes, there is a conflict between them, I know. Although each pretends to refuse the honour, it is about which one will be the general-in-chief of our army. And then, when we make peace, the more fearsome the rebel has been, the higher the price he will be able to demand to rejoin us. But Madame de Tourville has given me a plan to make them agree.’
The viscountess smiled at the mention of this name: ‘Ah! Is Your Highness reconciled with her counsellor?’
‘Needs must. She met us at Montrond, bearing her roll of paper with such solemnity that Lenet and I were dying with laughter.’
‘ “Although Your Highness attaches no importance to these reflections,” she said, “which are the fruit of industrious burning of the midnight oil, I am bringing my tribute to the general cause.” ’
‘Was that really what she said?’
‘Word for word.’
‘And Your Highness replied?’
‘I didn’t. I referred her to Lenet, who said: “Madame, we have never doubted your zeal, still less your wisdom; they are so precious to us that the princess and I every day regretted not having them…” Finally, he said such a host of fine things to her that she was captivated, and eventually she gave him her plan.’
‘Which is?’
‘To appoint neither Monsieur de Bouillon nor Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld general-in-chief, but Monsieur de Turenne.’
‘Upon my word,’ Claire said, ‘it seems to me that the counsellor gave you good counsel this time. What does Monsieur Lenet say?’
‘I say that the viscountess is right and that she adds a further good voice to our deliberations,’ Lenet replied, coming in at that moment with a roll of paper that he was holding as gravely as Madame de Tourville might have done. ‘Unfortunately, Monsieur de Turenne cannot leave the army in the north, and our plan requires him to march on Paris when Mazarin and the queen march on Bordeaux.’
‘Observe, my dear, that Lenet is the man of impossibilities. So it is not Monsieur de Bouillon, or Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld, or Monsieur de Turenne who is our general-in-chief. Our general-in-chief is Lenet! What does Your Excellency have there? Is it a proclamation?’
‘Yes, Madame.’
‘Madame de Tourville’s, of course.’
‘Precisely, Madame. Apart from a few necessary alterations to the wording – the chancellery style, you understand…’
‘Fine, fine!’ said the princess, laughing. ‘We are not concerned with every letter. As long as the spirit is there, that’s all we need.’
‘It is, Madame.’
‘And where will Monsieur de Bouillon sign?’
‘On the same line as Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld.’
‘That doesn’t tell me where Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld will sign, though.’
‘Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld will sign underneath the Duke d’Enghien.’
‘The Duke d’Enghien should not sign such an act. A child! Think of it, Lenet.’
‘I have done so, Madame. When the king dies, the dauphin succeeds him, if only for a day. Why should the same not be true of the house of Condé as it is for the house of France?’
‘But what will Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld say? And Monsieur de Bouillon?’
‘The first has spoken, Madame, and left after he spoke; the second will know about the matter when it is done and so will say what he likes, it is of no consequence to us.’
‘And is this the cause of the coldness that the duke showed towards you, Claire?’
‘Leave him cold, Madame,’ said Lenet. ‘He will warm up at the first cannon that the Marshal de La Meilleraie fires against us. These gentlemen wish to make war, so let them make it!’
‘Beware of upsetting them too much, Lenet,’ said the princess. ‘They are all we have.’
‘And they have only your name. Let them try to fight on their own behalf, and you’ll see how long they last. Tit for tat.’
Madame de Tourville had come in a few seconds earlier, and the radiant, beaming smile on her face had given way to a hint of anxiety, which was increased by the last words of her rival, the counsellor.
She hurried forward.
‘Could it be that the plan that I suggested to Your Highness was unfortunate enough not to receive the approval of Monsieur Lenet?’
‘On the contrary, Madame,’ said Lenet, bowing. ‘I have kept the greater part of your report. However, instead of the proclamation being signed by the Duke de Bouillon or the Duke de La Rochefoucauld, it will be signed by the Duke d’Enghien. The names of the other gentlemen will come after that of the prince.’
‘You will compromise the young prince, Monsieur.’
‘It is only right that he should be compromised, Madame, since he is the one for whom we are fighting.’
‘But the people of Bordeaux like the Duke de Bouillon, they adore Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld, but they don’t even know the Duke d’Enghien.’
‘There you are wrong,’ Lenet replied, as usual taking a piece of paper from his pocket, the capacity of which always astonished the princess. ‘Here is a letter from the president of the parliament of Bordeaux, in which he begs me to have proclamations signed by the young duke.’
‘Huh! Scoff at parliaments, Lenet,’ the princess exclaimed. ‘There’s no point in escaping from the power of the queen and Monsieur de Mazarin if we are to fall under that of the parliaments.’
‘Does Your Highness wish to enter Bordeaux?’ asked Lenet.
‘Of course.’
‘Then that is the sine qua non. They won’t fire a shot for anyone except the Duke d’Enghien.’
Madame de Tourville bit her lip.
‘So,’ the princess continued, ‘you have made us flee Chantilly and cover a hundred and fifty leagues only to be insulted by the people of Bordeaux?’
‘What you consider an insult, Madame, is in fact an honour. What could be more flattering, indeed, for the Princess de Condé to see that she is the one being welcomed and not the others?’
‘So the Bordelais will not receive the two dukes?’
‘They will only receive Your Highness.’
‘What can I do alone?’
‘Why, go in anyway, and as you do so, leave the gate open, and the others will come in after you.’
‘We cannot do without them.’
‘That is my opinion, and in a fortnight it will be the opinion of the parliament. Bordeaux is repulsing your army, but in a fortnight it will c
all on you for its defence. Then you will have the credit of having twice done what the townsfolk asked, and at that moment, have no fear, they will die for you, from the first to the last.’
‘So is Bordeaux threatened?’ asked Madame de Tourville.
‘Very much so,’ said Lenet. ‘This is why it is urgent for us to take up our position there. While we are not there, the city can, without compromising its honour, refuse to open its gates to us. But once we are inside, Bordeaux cannot chase us away without dishonouring itself.’
‘And who is threatening Bordeaux, may I ask?’
‘The king, the queen, Mazarin… The royal army is gathering strength and our enemies are taking up their positions. The Ile Saint-Georges, which is only three leagues from the city, has just received reinforcements, additional munitions and a new governor. The Bordelais will try to take the island, and, naturally, they will be beaten, because they will be facing the king’s best troops. Once they have been well and truly thrashed, as it is only proper that they should be when city folk try to ape soldiers, then they will cry out loud for the dukes of Bouillon and La Rochefoucauld. And then, Madame, you, holding both these dukes in the palm of your hand, can make your own conditions to the parliament…’
‘But would it not be better to try to win over this new governor before the people of Bordeaux have suffered a defeat that might discourage them?’
‘If you are in Bordeaux when the defeat takes place, you have nothing to fear… As for winning over the governor, that’s impossible.’
‘Impossible? Why?’
‘Because this governor is a personal enemy of Your Highness.’
‘A personal enemy?’
‘Yes.’
‘And where does this enmity come from?’
‘From the fact that he will never forgive Your Highness the trick that was played on him in Chantilly… Ah, Monsieur de Mazarin is not the fool that you persist in thinking that he is, ladies – even though I keep telling you the opposite. The proof is that he has put, in the Ile Saint-Georges, that is, in the key position in the country… Guess whom?’
‘I’ve already told you that I have absolutely no idea who it might be.’
‘Very well: it’s the officer that you laughed so much at – and who, by some unbelievable mistake, let Your Highness escape from Chantilly.’
‘Monsieur de Canolles!’ Claire exclaimed.
‘Yes.’
‘Monsieur de Canolles is Governor of the Ile Saint-Georges?’
‘The very same.’
‘Impossible! I saw him being arrested in front of me, before my eyes…’
‘Correct. But he must have powerful protection, and his disgrace has changed into favour.’
‘And you thought he was already dead, my poor Claire!’ said the princess, laughing.
‘Are you quite sure, Monsieur?’ Claire asked, in astonishment.
Lenet, as usual, put his hand in the famous pocket and took out a piece of paper.
‘Here is a letter from Richon,’ he said, ‘which gives me all the details of the new governor’s inauguration and expresses his regret that Your Highness did not place Richon himself in the Ile Saint-Georges.’
‘The princess put Monsieur Richon in the Ile Saint-Georges!’ said Madame de Tourville, with a triumphant laugh. ‘Do we make the appointments of His Majesty’s governors?’
‘We do have one at our disposal, Madame,’ Lenet retorted, ‘and that is enough.’
‘Which is that?’
Madame de Tourville shuddered as she saw Lenet put his hand into his pocket.
‘The Duke d’Epernon’s letter of attestation!’ the princess exclaimed. ‘That’s right. I had forgotten.’
‘Huh! What’s that?’ Madame de Tourville said contemptuously. ‘A bit of paper, that’s all!’
‘This bit of paper,’ Lenet said, ‘is the nomination that we need to counterbalance the one that has just been made. It is the counterweight to the Ile Saint-Georges, in short, our salvation. It is another place on the Dordogne, as the Ile Saint-Georges is on the Garonne.’
‘And are you sure that it is the same Monsieur de Canolles who was arrested in Jaulnay who is now Governor of the Ile Saint-Georges?’ asked Claire, who had not listened to anything that had been said in the previous five minutes, still pondering the news that Lenet had given them, confirmed by Richon.
‘I am sure of it, Madame.’
‘Monsieur de Mazarin has an odd way of taking his governors to their posts.’
‘Yes,’ said the princess. ‘And there must be something behind it.’
‘There is,’ said Lenet. ‘There is Mademoiselle Nanon de Lartigues.’
‘Nanon de Lartigues!’ cried the viscountess, a dreadful memory gnawing at her heart.
‘That slut!’ said the princess contemptuously.
‘Yes, Madame,’ Lenet replied. ‘That slut whom Your Highness refused to see when she begged the honour of being presented to you, and whom the queen, less strict than you are about the laws of etiquette, did receive. The result of which was that Nanon replied to your chamberlain that the Princess de Condé might indeed be a greater lady than Anne of Austria, but that Anne of Austria has decidedly more prudence than the Princess de Condé.’
‘Your memory fails you, Lenet, or else you are trying to spare me,’ the princess exclaimed. ‘The insolent hussy did not only say “more prudence”, she also said “more wit”.’
‘Possibly,’ said Lenet with a smile. ‘I was going into the antechamber at that moment and did not hear the end of the sentence.’
‘But I was listening at the door,’ said the princess, ‘and I heard all of it.’
‘Well, then,’ said Lenet, ‘you understand that this is a woman who will make war on you without remorse. The queen would send you soldiers to fight, Nanon will send you enemies who must be destroyed.’
‘Perhaps, had you been in Her Highness’s place,’ Madame de Tourville said sourly to Lenet, ‘you would have received her with reverence?’
‘No, Madame,’ said Lenet. ‘I should have received her with a laugh, and I should have bought her.’
‘Very well, then, we must buy her. There is still time.’
‘There may still be time, but I think that now she will probably be too expensive for us.’
‘So what is her price?’ the princess asked.
‘Five hundred thousand livres, before the war.’
‘And now?’
‘A million.’
‘For that money I could buy Monsieur de Mazarin!’
‘That might well be so,’ said Lenet. ‘Things that have already been sold and resold fall in price.’
Madame de Tourville was still in favour of violence: ‘If we can’t buy her, we must capture her!’
‘You would be doing a real service to Her Highness if you could do that. But it will be a difficult task, since we have no idea where she is. In any case, let’s not bother about that, but first of all enter Bordeaux and then take the Ile Saint-Georges.’
‘No, no!’ Claire exclaimed. ‘No, let’s first of all go into the Ile Saint-Georges!’
This exclamation, straight from the viscountess’s heart, made both women turn towards her, while Lenet examined Claire as closely as Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld might do, though with added benevolence.
‘You’re mad,’ said the princess. ‘You heard Lenet say that the place is impregnable.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Claire, ‘but I believe we will take it.’
‘Do you have a plan?’ asked Madame de Tourville, with the anxious look of a woman who fears that there may be a rival on the horizon.
‘I may do,’ said Claire.
‘But if the Ile Saint-Georges costs as much as Lenet says,’ the princess laughed, ‘we may not be rich enough.’
‘We shan’t buy it,’ said Claire, ‘but we shall have it even so.’
‘By force, then,’ said Madame de Tourville. ‘My dear, you’re coming back to my plan.’
‘T
hat’s right,’ said the princess. ‘We’ll send Richon to besiege Saint-Georges. He comes from round there, he knows the place, and if any man can capture the fortress, which you claim is so impregnable, he’s the one.’
‘Before you do that,’ said Claire, ‘let me try something. If I fail, you can still do it in your own way.’
‘What!’ the princess exclaimed in astonishment. ‘You will go to the Ile Saint-Georges?’
‘I shall.’
‘Alone?’
‘With Pompée.’
‘Are you afraid of nothing?’
‘I shall go as a negotiator, if Your Highness will be so good as to appoint me.’
‘Now that’s something new!’ Madame de Tourville cried. ‘I really do think that you can’t just invent a diplomat like that and that you have to make a long study of the art, that Monsieur de Tourville, one of the finest diplomats of his time, as he would also have been one of the greatest soldiers, claimed was the hardest art of all to master.’
‘However inadequate I may be, Madame,’ said Claire, ‘I shall try nonetheless, if the princess will allow me to!’
‘The princess will most certainly allow you,’ said Lenet, glancing at Madame de Condé. ‘I am even sure that if anyone in the world can succeed in this negotiation, you are that person…’
‘And what will Madame do that no one else can?’
‘Quite simple; she’ll haggle over Monsieur de Canolles, which a man could not attempt without being thrown from the window.’
‘A man, perhaps,’ Madame de Tourville went on, ‘but a woman…’
‘If a woman is to go to the Ile Saint-Georges,’ said Lenet, ‘it might as well – or even, it had better – be Madame rather than anyone else, since she was the first to have the idea.’
At that moment, a messenger came in, bringing a letter from the parliament of Bordeaux.
‘Ah, this must be the answer to my request,’ said the princess.
The two women came over, driven by feelings of curiosity and interest, while Lenet stayed in his place, with his usual calm, no doubt knowing already what was in the letter. The princess read it eagerly.
‘They are asking for me, calling for me, waiting for me!’ she cried.