Gerald Fitzgerald: The Chevalier Part 29

'Distressed at the length of time that had elapsed since we saw you among us here--grieved at what we could not but imagine a desertion of us--pained, above all, Monseigneur, by indications that you had sought and found friends in other ranks than those of your own high station----'

'A bishop, Madame la Marquise--forgive my interruption--a bishop only knows mankind as his brethren.' There was a malignant twinkle in his eye as he spoke, that deprived the sentiment of all its charitable meaning.

'Fortune has been very unkind to you in certain members of your family, Monseigneur,' said the Count de Noailles tartly.

'Younger branches, somewhat ill-cared-for and neglected,' said Talleyrand dryly.

'Nay, Monseigneur, your Christian charity goes too far and too fast,'

said De Noailles. 'Our lackeys were never called our _freres cadets_ before.'

'What a charming dress, Madame de Langeac!' said the bishop, touching a fold of the rich silk with a veneration he might have bestowed on a sacred relic.

'The favourite colour of the Queen, Monseigneur,' said she pointedly.

'Lilac is the emblem of hope; her Majesty is right to adopt it,' was the quick response.

'Is that like Monsieur de Mirabeau, Monseigneur?' said the Duc de Valmy, as he handed a coa.r.s.e engraving to the bishop.

'There is a certain resemblance, unquestionably. It is about as like him--as--as--what shall I say--as the general estimate of the man is to the vast resources of his immense intelligence!'

'Immense intelligence!' exclaimed the Marquise de Bauf-fremont. 'I could more readily believe in his immense profligacy.'

'You might a.s.sent to both, Madame, and yet make no great mistake, save only that the one is pa.s.sing away, the other coming,' said Talleyrand courteously.

'Which is the rising, which the setting sun, Monseigneur?' said De Valmy.

'I sincerely trust it may not shock this distinguished company if I say that it is the dawn of intellect, and the last night of incapacity, we are now witnessing. You have heard that this gentleman has seen the king?'

'Mirabeau been received by his Majesty!' 'Mirabeau admitted to the presence!' exclaimed three or four, in tones of utter incredulity.

'I can be positive as to the fact,' resumed the bishop. 'I can be even more--I can tell this honourable company what pa.s.sed at the interview.

It was, then, last night--(thank you, Monsieur le Duc, I accept your chair, since it allows me a more convenient spot to speak from)--it was last night, at a late hour, that a messenger arrived at the Avenue aux Abois with an order--I suppose it is etiquette I should call it order--for Monsieur de Mirabeau to hasten to St. Cloud, where the king desired to confer with him.'

'I 'll never believe it!' cried the Marquis de Ribaupierre impetuously.

'If I had the happiness of being confessor to the Marquis, I would enjoin an extension of faith--particularly in the times we live in, said Talleyrand, with a dry humour in his look. 'At all events, it is as I have the honour to acquaint you. Monsieur de Mirabeau received this message and obeyed it.'

'Par St. Louis, I can believe he obeyed it!' exclaimed the Duc de Valmy.

'And yet, Monsieur,' said the bishop, 'it was not till after very grave reflection the Count de Mirabeau determined to accept that same invitation.'

'Ah, Monseigneur, you would presume upon our credulity,' broke in De Valmy.

'Far from it, Duc; I cherish every crumb of faith that falls from a table so scantily dressed; but once more I repeat, the Count de Mirabeau weighed well the perils on either side, and then decided on accepting those which attached to the court.'

'The perils which attached to the court!' cried the Marquis de Langeac scoflingly. 'Monseigneur doubtless alludes to all the seductive temptations that would a.s.sail the cold, impa.s.sive temperament of his friend.'

'My friend! I accept the phrase, and wish it might be mutually acknowledged. My friend has little to boast of on the score of impa.s.siveness, nor would the quality stand him in great stead just now.

What the king wants he has got, however.'

'And pray what may that be, Monseigneur?'

'I will tell you, Monsieur: great prompt.i.tude, great eloquence, great foresight, and, better than all these, great contempt for a pretentious cla.s.s, whose vanity would lead them to believe that a wound to themselves must be the death-blow to the monarchy. Now, sir, Monsieur de Mirabeau has these gifts, and by their influence he has persuaded the king to accept his services----'

'Oh, Monseigneur, if any one has dared to make you the subject of a mystification!'

'I have been the subject of many, my dear Marquis, and may live to be the subject of more,' said the bishop, with great suavity and good-humour; 'but I see I must not presume upon my credit with this honourable company.' Then, changing his tone quickly, he added: 'Can any one give me information about a young Garde du Corps called Fitzgerald--Gerald Fitzgerald?'

'I believe I am the only one he is known to,' said Madame de Bauffremont.

'As, next to the honour of offering you my homage, Madame la Marquise, that was the reason of my coming here this evening, may I trespa.s.s upon you to give me a few minutes alone?'

Madame de Bauffremont arose, and, taking the bishop's arm, retired into a small room adjoining, and closed the door.

'Who is this Chevalier de Fitzgerald, Madame?' said he abruptly.

'I can give you very little insight into his history,' replied the Marquise; 'but dare I presume to ask how are you interested about him?'

'You shall hear, Madame la Marquise. About six or eight months back, the Queen's almoner, l'Abbe Jostinard, forwarded, of course by order of her Majesty, certain names of individuals in the royal household to Rome, imploring on their behalf the benediction of the Holy Father--a very laudable measure, not unfrequent in former reigns, but somehow lamentably fallen into disuse.' There was a strange, quaint expression in his eye as he uttered these last words, which did not escape the attention of the Marquise. 'Among these,' resumed he, 'there was included the Chevalier de Fitzgerald. Now, Madame, you are well aware that His Holiness takes especial pains to know that the recipients of the holy favour are persons worthy, by their lives and habits, of this precious blessing: while, therefore, for each of the others so recommended there were friends and relatives in abundance to vouch--the Rochemards, the Guesclins, the Tresignes can always find sufficient bail--this poor Chevalier stood friendless and alone, none to answer for, none to acknowledge him. Now, Madame, this might seem bad enough, but it was not all, for, not satisfied with excluding him from the sacred benediction, the consulta began speculating who and what he might be, whence he came, and so on. The most absurd conjectures, the wildest speculations, grew out of these researches: some tracing him to this, others to that origin, but all agreeing that he belonged to that marvellous order whom people are pleased to call adventurers. In the midst of this controversy distinguished names became entangled, some one would have said too high for the breath of scandal to attain--your own, Madame la Marquise----'

'Mine! how mine?' cried she eagerly.

'A romantic story of a sojourn in a remote villa in the Apennines--a tale positively interesting of a youth rescued from brigands or Bohemians, I forget which--pray a.s.sist me.'

'Continue, sir,' said the Marquise, whose compressed lips and sparkling eyes denoted the anger she could barely control.

'I am a most inadequate narrator, Madame--in fact, I am not sure that I should have lent much attention to this story at all if the Queen's name and your own had not been interwoven with it.'

'And how the Queen's, sir _I_?' cried she haughtily.

'Ah, Madame la Marquise, ask yourself how, in this terrible time in which we live, the purest and the best are sullied by the stain of that calumny the world sows broadcast! Is it not a feature of our age that none can claim privilege nor immunity? Popular orators have no more fertile theme than when showing that station, rank, high duties, even holy cares are all maintained by creatures of mere flesh and blood, inheritors of human frailties, heirs of mortal weakness. Cardinals have lived whose hearts have known ambition--empresses have felt even love.'

'Monseigneur, this is enough,' said the Marquise, rising, and darting at him a look of haughty indignation.

'Not altogether, Madame,' said he calmly, motioning her to be reseated.

'To-morrow, or next day, this scandal--for it is a scandal--will be the talk of Paris. Whence came this youth? who is he? how came he by his t.i.tle of Chevalier? will be asked in every salon, in every cafe, at every corner. Madame de Bauffremont's name, and one even yet higher, will figure in these recitals. Some will suppose this, others suggest that, and the world--the world, Madame la Marquise--will believe all!'

'My Lord Bishop,' she began, but pa.s.sion so overwhelmed her that she could not continue. Meanwhile he resumed--

'The vulgar herd, who know nothing, nor can know anything, of the emotions, n.o.ble and generous, that sway highborn natures, who must needs measure the highest in station by the paltry standards that apply to their own cla.s.s, will easily credit that even a Marquise may have been interested for a youth to whom, certainly, rumour attributes considerable merit. One word more, Madame; for as this youth, educated, some say by no less gifted a tutor than Jean Jacques Rousseau--others pretend by the watchful care of Count Mirabeau himself----'

'Whence, have you derived this most ingenious tissue of falsehood, Monseigneur?' cried she pa.s.sionately.

'Nay, Madame, I speak "from book" now. The Chevalier is intimately known to Monsieur de Mirabeau--lived at one time in close companionship with him--and is, indeed, deeply indebted to his kindness.'

'How glad I am, Monseigneur,' said she quickly, 'at length to undeceive you!'

A knock at the door here interrupted the Marquise. It was a servant with a letter from Versailles that demanded immediate attention.