Lord Montagu's Page Part 16

Tronson turned a little pale, for that peculiar smile was known at the court by this time, and it was not supposed to be favorable to those on whom it was bestowed. But the secretary was too wise to notice it; and he merely asked, "Who has escaped, your Eminence?--this young lady? She was safe in the castle not an hour ago."

"No, no, man; no," answered Richelieu. "I mean Madame de Luynes,--Madame de Chevreuse, Tronson. Have you not heard? She quitted Nantes at daybreak this morning for Le Verger. Strange!" he continued, speaking to himself: "'twas only last night; and yet she must have heard enough to frighten her. Can the king betray himself and me? She must have learned something. What is the girl's name, Monsieur de Tronson?"

"Lucette du Mirepoix, she says," replied the secretary.

"Lucette de Mirepoix du Valais," said the cardinal, slowly and thoughtfully: "the same,--the same, Tronson. Do you not remember there was much contention, some six years ago, between Madame de Luynes and this scheming rebel Soubise, about the guardianship of this very girl?

There the d.u.c.h.ess was right, for she would have brought her into the bosom of the Church; but Soubise was too quick for her, and sent the child away,--perhaps to England, to make sure she should be brought up in heresy. But my fair d.u.c.h.ess shall find me worse to deal with than Soubise. But you said just now," he continued, in a calmer tone, "that all could be easily explained. What did you mean, my friend?"

"Merely that her travelling with this youth is a problem easily solved,"

answered the secretary. "Last night, when they parted, there were some warm kisses pa.s.sed,--not at all fraternal, your Eminence; and, putting those gentle signs in connection with some words and rosy blushes, I conclude that they are bent on matrimony. Probably they have found difficulties at home, and, as is not unfrequent with these English, they have gone off together."

"Is the young man of n.o.ble birth, think you?" asked the cardinal, thoughtfully.

"Not of high rank, even amongst the English," answered Tronson: "his very name shows it."

Richelieu smiled, but this time it was a bland and pleasant smile. "We will punish her," he said, speaking to himself,--"punish both!"

"But, your Eminence, if the safe-conduct be yours, as I think, and the young man be really what he pretends, you will hardly----"

"Hand me that leathern bag and the knife," said the minister, interrupting him, and seemingly paying not the slightest attention to the secretary's words. "And now," he continued, when De Tronson had obeyed, "let the youth be brought to me; and have the girl taken to the adjoining room, ready to be brought in when I require her: see that no one converses with her, my excellent good friend."

The secretary bowed his head and withdrew, repeating to himself, "'My excellent friend!'--I have someway offended him. His words are too kind!" But then, after a moment's thought, he murmured, in almost the same words which Richelieu had used a minute or two before, "Can the king have betrayed me? If so, he has betrayed himself too; for G.o.d knows I advised him solely for his benefit."

Louis XIII. had now been on the throne of France about sixteen years, and Richelieu had not been actually of the king's council more than three; but both had been long enough before the world's eyes for men to have learned that a king could betray his best friends from fear or weakness, and that a minister could be most gentle in manners when he was the most savage at heart. Richelieu was fond of cats, and perhaps learned some lessons from his favorites. However, in the present instance Tronson guessed rightly: the king had betrayed him to his powerful minister. The night before, nearly at midnight, the cardinal had carried to the king the confession of the unhappy Count de Chalais, drawn from him in his dungeon by the minister himself,--perhaps--nay, probably--by the most unworthy artifices. In recompense for an act which put an end to one of the monarch's painful fits of hesitation, Louis revealed to Richelieu the names of those who, in the confidence of loyal friendship, had opposed some of the minister's favorite schemes; and Tronson was one. Thus, he had guessed right. Whether Richelieu had guessed right likewise no one can tell. That Louis had communicated the confession of Chalais to some of his inferior confidants, who had warned Madame de Chevreuse to fly, is very probable; but most improbable that he had warned her himself. She was the friend, companion, counsellor of his unhappy queen, and was hated by himself as well as by his minister. The king's hatred, however, was merely the reflex of his hatred for another. The enmity of Richelieu was more personal and of long standing. When Marie de Rohan had married the Constable Duke of Luynes, the now potent cardinal had been but a petty agent of the queen-mother; and he had been treated by the proud woman with some contempt. Again, in appearance the king, the constable, and all the ministers had solicited for Richelieu the cardinal's hat from Rome, but he had discovered that Luynes secretly opposed what he publicly asked; and he attributed this treachery to the suggestions of the d.u.c.h.ess.

When, after the death of her first husband, Marie de Rohan married the princely Duc de Chevreuse, and Richelieu rose rapidly to the height of power, the enmity between them was no longer concealed, except by the courtly varnish of external politeness,--and, indeed, not always by that.

Thus, when sitting there in his apartments in the Chateau of Nantes, there was perhaps no one in France whom Richelieu desired to mortify and humiliate personally more than Marie de Rohan, d.u.c.h.ess of Chevreuse:--no, not even her distant relatives the Prince de Soubise and his brother the Duc de Rohan, though both had opposed the royal forces in the field, and the reduction of both to submission was essential to his policy. For them he had some respect, and no individual enmity; but toward her there was a rancor which prompted to any act that would sting rather than destroy. At that time even Richelieu had cause to follow the course which had been pursued by Luynes, and to avoid carrying resentments too far. He was not yet so firmly seated in power that, if he made great enemies, he might not be thrown aside by a fickle king.

Otherwise it might seem strange that he dared not follow the same bold course against Madame de Chevreuse which he soon pursued against the unfortunate Chalais, and later against Montmorency and Cinq Mars. But, as I have said, his fingers were not so tightly fixed round the staff of command that he could venture to a.s.sail in front the mighty houses of Montbazon and Lorraine, while Vendome and Conde were already his enemies. It was perhaps meditation upon subjects such as these that occupied the minister's deepest thoughts while he opened with a sharp penknife the leathern bag which De Tronson had brought him, took out several letters, cut the silk, and read the contents; for he did all with an absent air. But Richelieu's mind was one of those which can carry on two processes at once,--one deep, intense, and mighty, the consideration of vital questions, the other the mere observation and recognition of objects--for the time, at least--less important. He seemed to pay little attention to those letters; yet not one word escaped him, and when he had done he replaced them in the bag and cast it behind his chair, but within reach of his hand. He then took up, from the little table close by, the paper on which he had previously been writing, and was reading over the verses, when the door opened, and an exempt of the court appeared, looking at the minister with a sort of inquiring air. Richelieu bowed his head, and the man, stepping back, but holding open the door, introduced Edward Langdale and retired into the ante-chamber.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Edward Langdale entered the presence of the cardinal firm and upright; and, to say the truth, now tricked out with all the taste and ornament which the skill of a French tailor of the reign of Louis XIII., and the short time allowed for the operation, permitted, he was as handsome-looking a youth as you could easily see in this world of ugly hearts and indifferent faces. His air was perfectly calm and well a.s.sured, but not presumptuous; and the easy grace with which he carried his hat with its long plume in one hand, and the velvet case with the pa.s.sport in the other, was not unnoticed by the cardinal, who was accustomed to observe slight indications and to draw his inferences from them,--not exactly taking for granted that they meant what they seemed to mean; for there was many a man in France and at the court who affected well more gayety than the lark when his heart was full of anxiety and sorrow, many a one who a.s.sumed a grave solemnity who within was as light a bubble as ever floated down the stream of time. But often he drew inferences the most opposite from the outside indications, and saw evidence of the pinchbeck in the fresh glitter of the gilding.

Richelieu did not make any motion to rise, but, pointing to a seat near him, he bent his head calmly, and said, "Be seated, sir. I am glad to see you in Nantes. How long is it since you arrived?"

"Yesterday evening, my lord," replied Edward, "I reached the city, having been delayed by several causes during many days. Indeed, it is probable I should not have visited this city at all had not some of the royal officers refused to recognise my safe-conduct."

"Perhaps they did not recognise your person," said the cardinal, softly, continuing to gaze at the young Englishman with a keen and scrutinizing look. "But I think, Monsieur Apsley, I must have seen your face somewhere before."

"That cannot be, may it please your Eminence," replied Edward, frankly.

"I never had the honor of beholding you till now."

"You speak French with great purity," said the minister. "Did you never reside in this country?"

"I visited it some time ago, but did not remain more than a few months,"

the youth replied; "but I studied the language long in my own country, and spoke it continually with those who spoke it well."

"Well, indeed!" said Richelieu; "but they tell me you are learned in many ways, and doubtless you have given attention to our poets,--superior, in refinement at least, to any that the world can boast. Let me have a sample of your taste. What think you of these lines just sent to me by a young poet? The hand is inexperienced, but I think the head is good. You can read the language, of course." And he handed the lines to Edward, who, confounded by what was pa.s.sing, took the paper and gazed at it for a moment in silence. Then, feeling that such silence might be dangerous, he proceeded to read the verses aloud, with good emphasis and a graceful delivery:--

"Who on the height of power would stand must be Hard as the rock to those who dare his arm; To the indifferent, cool; and tenderly Treat the young faults of those who mean no harm.

"The sunshine warms the serpent in the brake: Then crush his head while lasts his sleeping hour, Nor wait till, fresh envenom'd, he awake.

There still are snakes enow where there is power."

Whether he discovered by the similarity of the writing with the signature of the safe-conduct that the verses were the cardinal's own, or that he thought he saw some allusion to the minister's situation which discovered the author, I know not; but there were particular pa.s.sages which he dwelt upon in reading; and the minister smiled approvingly, saying, "Well! exceedingly well, Monsieur Apsley. The poet loses nothing on your lips. Think you the verses good?"

"Very good, your Eminence," replied Edward. "Were the arrangement of the lines somewhat different, they would make an excellent speech in a tragedy."

"Ha! say you so?" said the minister, apparently well pleased: "I will give the author that hint. He has some small merit, and may perhaps hereafter aim at higher flights."

"He has chosen a high subject now, sir," replied Edward, "But, by your pardon, I did not come here to read poetry, however good, but to request your Eminence to recognise my safe-conduct and to let me go forward on my way."

Richelieu's brow became a little shaded. "So fast!" he said, as if speaking to himself, and then demanded, "Where do you wish to go?"

"First to Niort," answered Edward, boldly, "where I was going when I was stopped, and then, by Paris, into Switzerland."

The cardinal paused and gazed at him for a moment in silence, and then replied, "There are previously several matters to be inquired into. I trust we are here in France too courteous to stay any gentleman travelling through our country for purposes of mere pleasure or instruction, though there may be matters of enmity, and even war, between the two nations. I trust we are too honest to give a safe-conduct and then to deny its efficacy. But spies we hang, young gentleman."

The words sounded chilling upon Edward Langdale's ear; but he knew that a moment's silence might be destruction, and he replied, at once, "I am no spy, your Eminence; and, whatever I may have done that is indiscreet, I came not to examine or report, and never will, any thing I see in this country. It is as safe with me as with yourself, lord cardinal."

"Then you acknowledge you have done indiscreet things?" said Richelieu.

"Probably," answered the young man: "who has not? But, still, I am no spy."

"Of the character of a spy there may be many definitions," answered the minister; "and modern codes do not exactly limit themselves to the Hebrew interpretation of the term, to wit, that he is a person who goes out to see the nakedness of the land. But, that apart, we must know the meaning of what the letters in this bag contain." And, stretching back his hand, he took the wallet and drew out a letter, while Edward observed, as calmly as he could, "I am not responsible, your Eminence, for what those letters contain. I know not the contents of any one of them, but merely took them as requested to persons in France with whom the writers had no other means of communication."

He spoke the truth; for he had not seen and did not know the contents of any one of the letters he had borne across the channel, except that to the good syndic Clement Tournon, which announced the speedy arrival of Lord Denbigh's fleet.

Richelieu paid no apparent attention to what he said, but read from the letter he held in his hand: "'To the most mighty Prince the Duc de Rohan. These will be given to you by one in whom you can put all confidence. Yield him all credence in what he shall tell you on the part of a true friend.' 'To his Highness the Prince de Soubise. Monsieur: Let me commend to you most highly the bearer, a young English gentleman of good house, true, faithful, and worthy of all credit. He ought to be the possessor of great estate; but I a.s.sure your Highness that his merit is above his fortunes, and that the dearest trust you have you may confide to his keeping.' Signed with a large B. All the rest, sir, are of the same tenor,--without due signature, and in vague terms. What is the meaning of this?"

"Probably the writers foresaw," replied Edward, who had determined on his course, "that the letters might fall into the hands of your Eminence, and, knowing themselves not your friends, might not wish to make you my enemy."

"Bold, upon my life!" exclaimed Richelieu, in a tone of surprise.

"But true!" said Edward. "I much wish to see the Duc de Rohan or the Prince de Soubise, upon matters totally unconnected with those letters; and when your Eminence gives me permission to proceed I shall seek them instantly."

"When I give permission," said Richelieu, somewhat scornfully; "but well,--'tis very well. Sir, these letters are very suspicious, and would well justify the detention of the bearer. But I must ask some more questions. What seek you with Messieurs de Soubise and Rohan, two n.o.blemen in arms against their sovereign?"

"My lord cardinal, my business with them is private. Those letters are suspicious or not, as they may be viewed: they are not criminal; and though, as you shall determine, they may perhaps justify my detention, yet I a.s.sure you once again I knew not their contents until this moment.

You must be the judge of your own conduct. I know my own purposes, and can safely say my only object in seeking to see those two princes is one with which your Eminence has no concern."

"I _am_ the judge of my own conduct, young gentleman," answered the minister, in a not ungentle voice. "But see you here. Sir Peter Apsley has been represented to me as a good, lubberly youth, whom his relations and guardians are fain to send to foreign lands to see if he can gather some grains of sense and learning amongst more quick-witted people. Now, here we have a young man well read, ready and quick, of a fine taste, and speaking many tongues. This is suspicious too,--unless indeed you have visited some shrine and the saint has worked a miracle."

"My lord cardinal, it would befit me ill to bandy words with you,"