Petticoat Rule Part 18

"And we tremble before M. le Controleur," concluded the King gaily.

"Before me, Sire?"

"Aye, indeed, since our Parliaments have made you our dragon."

"A good-tempered, meek sort of dragon, Sire, you'll graciously admit."

"That we will, milor, and gladly!" said Louis XV, now with somewhat too exuberant good-humour; "and you'll not have cause to regret that meekness, for your King hath remained your friend."

Then, as Lord Eglinton seemed either too much overcome by the amazing condescension, or too bashful to respond, his Majesty continued more sedately:

"We are about to prove our friendship, milor."

"Your Majesty--finds me--er--quite unprepared--er----" stammered milor, who in verity appeared distinctly confused, for his eyes roamed round the room as if in search of help or support in this interesting crisis.

"Nay! nay!" rejoined the King benignly, "this we understand, milor. It is not often the King of France chooses a friend amongst his subjects.

For we look upon you as our subject now, M. le Controleur, since we have accepted your oath of allegiance. You have only just enough English blood left in your veins to make you doubly loyal and true to your King. Nay! nay! no thanks--we speak as our royal heart moves us.

Just now we spoke of proofs of our friendship. Milor, tell us frankly, are you so very rich?"

The question came so abruptly at the end of the sentimental peroration that Lord Eglinton was completely thrown off his balance. He was not used to private and intimate conversations with King Louis; his wife saw to all affairs of State, and the present emergency found him unprepared.

"I--I believe so, Sire," he stammered.

"But surely not _so_ rich," insisted the King, "that a million or so livres would come amiss? He!"?

"I don't rightly know, Sire; it a little depends."

"On what?"

"On the provenance of the million."

"More than one, good milor--two, mayhap," said the King exultantly.

Then he drew his chair in somewhat closer. Lord Eglinton had taken Mme. de Pompadour's advice and was sitting on the edge of the bed. We may presume that that edge was very hard and uncomfortable, for milor fidgeted and looked supremely unhappy. Anon the King's knees were close to his own, and Madame's brocaded skirt got entangled with his feet. The buzz of talk in the large room drowned the King's whispers effectually, the wide barrier of empty floor was an effectual check on eavesdropping. Obviously no one would hear what Louis was about to confide to his Minister; he leaned forward and dropped his voice so that Eglinton himself could scarcely hear, and had to bend his head so that he got Louis's hot, excited breath full on the cheek. Being General Comptroller of Finance and receiving the confidences of a King had its drawbacks at times.

"Milor," whispered his Majesty, "'tis a good affair we would propose, one which we could carry through without your help, but in which we would wish to initiate you, seeing that you are our friend."

"I listen, Sire."

"The Duke of c.u.mberland--you know him?"

"Yes."

"He has quelled the rebellion and humbled the standard of that arrogant Stuart Pretender."

"Your Majesty's friend--yes," said Eglinton innocently.

"Bah! our friend!" and Louis XV shrugged his shoulders, whilst Mme. de Pompadour gave a short contemptuous laugh.

"Oh! I am sorry! I thought----" said milor gently. "I pray your Majesty to continue."

"Charles Edward Stuart was no friend to us, milor," resumed Louis decisively: "observe, I pray you, the trouble which he hath brought about our ears. We had had peace with England ere now, but for that accursed adventurer and his pretensions; and now that he has come to disaster and ruin----"

"I understand," said Eglinton, with a little sigh of sympathy. "It is indeed awkward for your Majesty; the solemn promise you gave him----"

"Bah, man! prate not to me of promises," interrupted Louis irritably.

"I promised him nothing; he knows that well enough--the young fool!"

"Do not let us think of him, Sire; it seems to upset your Majesty."

"It does, milor, it does; for even my worst enemies concede that Louis the Well-beloved is a creature of sympathy."

"A heart of gold, Sire--a heart of gold--er--shall we join the ladies?"

"Milor," said the King abruptly, putting a firm hand on Eglinton's wrist, "we must not allow that young fool to thwart the external politics of France any longer. The Duke of c.u.mberland, though our own enemy on the field of battle, has shown that England trusts in our honour and loyalty even in the midst of war, but she wants a proof from us."

"Oh, let us give it, Sire, by all means. Prince Charles Edward Stuart----"

"Exactly, milor," said Louis XV quietly; "that is the proof which England wants."

"I am afraid I don't quite understand," said Lord Eglinton, a little bewildered. "You see, I am very stupid; and--and perhaps my wife----"

Then, as King Louis gave a sharp e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of impatience, Mme. de Pompadour broke in, in tones which she knew how to render velvety and soothing to the ear, whilst her delicate fingers rested lightly on M.

le Controleur's hand.

"It is quite simple, milor," she whispered just as confidentially as the King had done. "This Charles Edward Stuart is a perpetual worry to England. His Grace, the Duke of c.u.mberland has been accused of unnecessary cruelty because he has been forced to take severe measures for the suppression of that spirit of rebellion, which is only being fostered in Scotland because of that young Pretender's perpetual presence there. He fans smouldering revolt into flame, he incites pa.s.sions, and creates misguided enthusiasms which lead to endless trouble to all!"

Then as she paused, somewhat breathless and eager, her bright myosotis-coloured eyes anxiously scanning his face he said mildly:

"How beautifully you put things, Mme. la Marquise. I vow I have never heard such a perfect flood of eloquence."

"'Tis not a matter of Madame's eloquence," interposed Louis, with impatience, "though she hath grasped the subject with marvellous clearness of judgment."

"Then 'tis a matter of what, Sire?"

"The Duke of c.u.mberland has appealed to our loyalty. Though we are at war with England we bear no animus toward her reigning house, and have no wish to see King George's crown s.n.a.t.c.hed from him by that beardless young adventurer, who has no more right to the throne of England than you, milor, to that of France."

"And his Grace of c.u.mberland has asked his Majesty's help," added Mme.

de Pompadour.

"How strange! Just as Prince Charles Edward himself hath done."

"The Duke of c.u.mberland desires the person of the Pretender," she said, without heeding the interruption, "so that he may no longer incite misguided enthusiasts to rebellion, and cease to plunge Scotland and England into the throes of civil war."

"His Grace asks but little, methinks!" said Lord Eglinton slowly.

"Oh, England is always ready to pay for what she wants," said the Marquise.