Petticoat Rule Part 19

"And on this occasion?" asked milor mildly.

"His Grace hath offered us, as man to man, fifteen millions livres for the person of the Pretender," said the King, with sudden decision, and looking M. le Controleur straight in the face.

"Ah! as man to man?"

Louis XV and Mme. la Marquise de Pompadour both drew a quick sigh of relief. M. le Controleur had taken the proposal with perfect quietude.

He had not seemed startled, and his kindly face expressed nothing but gentle amazement, very natural under the circ.u.mstances, whilst his voice--even and placid as usual--was not above a whisper.

"As man to man," he repeated, and nodded his head several times, as if pondering over the meaning of this phrase.

How extremely fortunate! Milor had raised no objection! What a pity to have wasted quite so much thought, anxiety, and a wealth of eloquence over a matter which was so easily disposed of! Jeanne de Pompadour gave her royal patron an encouraging nod.

There was a world of wisdom in that nod and in the look which accompanied it. "He takes it so easily," that look seemed to say; "he thinks it quite natural. We must have his help, since we do not know where the fugitive Prince is in hiding. This little milor alone can tell us that, and give us a token by which Charles Edward would trustingly fall into the little ambush which we have prepared for him.

But he thinks the affair quite simple. We need not offer him quite so large a share in the pleasant millions as we originally had intended."

All this and more Mme. de Pompadour's nod conveyed to the mind of Louis the Well-beloved, and he too nodded in response before he continued, speaking now more casually, in a calmer, more business-like tone.

"'Tis a fair offer," he said at last; "though the affair will not be quite so easy to conduct as his Grace supposes. He suggests our sending a ship to the coast of Scotland to meet the young adventurer and his friends, take them on board and convey them to an English port, where they will be handed over to the proper authorities. 'Tis fairly simple, methinks."

"Remarkably simple, your Majesty."

"Of course, we need a little help from you, milor. Oh, nothing much--advice as to the spot where our good ship will be most like to find Charles Edward Stuart--a token which if shown to that young firebrand will induce him to trust its bearer, and come on board himself with at least some of his friends. You follow me, milor?"

The question seemed necessary, for Lord Eglinton's face wore such a look of indifference as to astonish even the King, who had been prepared for some measure of protest, at any rate from this man who was being asked to betray his friend. Although Louis was at this period of his life quite deaf to every call of honour and loyalty through that constant, ever-present and exasperating want of money for the satisfaction of his extravagant caprices, nevertheless, there was Bourbon blood in him, and this cried out loudly now, that he was suggesting--nay, more, contemplating--a deed which would have put any of his subjects to shame, and which would have caused some of his most unscrupulous ancestors in mediaeval times to writhe with humiliation in their graves. Therefore he had expected loud protest from Lord Eglinton, arguments more or less easy to combat, indignation of course; but this ready acceptance of this ign.o.ble bargain--so strange is human nature!--for the moment quite horrified Louis. Milor took the selling of his friend as calmly as he would that of a horse.

"You follow me, milor?" reiterated the King.

"Yes, yes, Sire," replied Eglinton readily enough. "I follow you."

"You understand the service we ask of you?"

"Yes, yes, I understand."

"For these services, milor, you shall be amply rewarded. We would deem one million livres a fair amount to fall to your share."

"Your Majesty is generous," said Eglinton quite pa.s.sively.

"We are just, milor," said the King, with a sigh of satisfaction.

M. le Controleur seemed satisfied, and there was little else to say.

Louis XV began to regret that he had offered him quite so much.

Apparently five hundred thousand would have been enough.

"Then we'll call that settled," concluded his Majesty, pushing back his chair preparatory to ending this conversation, which he had so dreaded and which had turned out so highly satisfactory. Pity about that million livres, of course! five hundred thousand might have done, certainly seven! Nathless, M. le Controleur's private fortune was not so large as popular rumour had it, or did Mme. Lydie actually hold the purse strings?

"_C'est entendu_, milor," repeated Louis once more. "We will see to commissioning the ship and to her secret orders. As you see, there is no risk--and we shall be glad to be in the good graces of M. le Duc de c.u.mberland. To oblige an enemy, eh, milor? an act of peace and good-will in the midst of war. Chivalry, what?--worthy of our ancestor Henri of Navarre! Methinks it will make history."

"I think so, too, Sire," said Eglinton, with obvious conviction.

"Ah! then we'll see to the completion of the affair; we--the King and M. le Duc d'Aumont. You are lucky, milor, your share of the work is so simple; as soon as the ship is ready to sail we'll call on you for the necessary instructions. Par ma foi! 'tis a fine business for us all, milor; one million in your pocket for a word and a token, the residue of the fifteen millions in our royal coffers, and the thanks of his Grace of c.u.mberland to boot, not to mention the moral satisfaction of having helped to quell an unpleasant rebellion, and of placing one's enemy under lasting obligation. All for the good of France!"

Louis the Well-beloved had risen; he was more than contented; an unctuous smile, a beaming graciousness of expression pervaded his entire countenance. He groped in the wide pocket of his coat, bringing forth a letter which bore a large red seal.

"His Grace's letter, milor," he said with final supreme condescension, and holding the doc.u.ment out to M. le Controleur, who took it without a word. "Do you glance through it, and see that we have not been mistaken, that the whole thing is clear, straightforward and----"

"And a d.a.m.ned, accursed, dirty piece of business, Sire!"

It was undoubtedly Lord Eglinton who had spoken, for his right hand, as if in response to his thoughts, was even now crushing the paper which it held, whilst the left was raised preparatory to tearing the infamous proposal to pieces. Yes, it had been milor's even, gentle voice which had uttered this sudden decisive condemnation in the same impa.s.sive tones, and still scarce audible even to these two people near him, without pa.s.sion, without tremor, seemingly without emotion.

Just a statement of an undisputable fact, a personal opinion in answer to a question put to him.

Louis, completely thrown off his balance, stared at milor as if he had been suddenly shaken out of a dream; for the moment he thought that his ears must have played him a trick, that he must have misunderstood the words so calmly uttered; instinctively his hand sought the support of the chair which he had just vacated. It seemed as if he needed a solid, a materialistic prop, else his body would have reeled as his brain was doing now. Mme. de Pompadour, too, had jumped to her feet, pushing her chair away with an angry, impatient movement. The disappointment was so keen and sudden, coming just at the moment when triumph seemed so complete. But whilst Louis stared somewhat blankly, at M. le Controleur, she, the woman, flashed rage, contempt, vengeance upon him.

He had tricked and fooled her, her as well as the King, leading them on to believe that he approved, the better to laugh at them both in his sleeve.

The contemptible, arrogant wretch!

He was still half sitting, half leaning against the edge of his bed, and staring straight out before him through the big bay window which gave on to the park, pa.s.sively, gently, as if the matter had ceased to concern him, as if he were quite unconscious of the enormity of his action.

"A--a d.a.m.ned--what?--accursed!--what?----" stammered the King; "but, milor----"

"Nay, Sire, I pray you!" broke in a grave voice suddenly; "my lord seems to have angered your Majesty. Will you deign to explain?"

CHAPTER XV

DIPLOMACY

The buzz of talk was going on as loudly and incessantly as before. The whispered conversation around M. le Controleur's bedside had excited no violent curiosity. The first surprise occasioned by His Majesty's unparalleled condescension soon gave way to indifference; it was obvious that the King's a.s.siduity beside the Minister of Finance was solely due to a more than normal desire for money, and these royal demands for renewed funds were too numerous to cause more than pa.s.sing interest.

Eavesdropping was impossible without gross disrespect, the latter far more unpardonable than the most insatiable curiosity. Lydie alone, privileged above all, had apparently not heeded the barrier which isolated Louis XV, Pompadour and milor from the rest of the vast apartment, for she now stood at the foot of the bed--a graceful, imposing figure dressed in somewhat conventual gray, with one hand resting on the delicate panelling, her grave, luminous eyes fixed on the King's face.

Louis shook himself free from the stupor in which milor's unexpected words had plunged him. Surprise yielded now to vexation. Lydie's appearance, her interference in this matter, would be the final death-blow to his hopes. Those tantalizing millions had dangled close before his eyes, his royal hands had almost grasped them, his ears heard their delicious clink; milor's original att.i.tude had brought them seemingly within his grasp. Now everything was changed. The whole affair would have to be argued out again at full length, and though _le pet.i.t Anglais_ might prove amenable, Mme. Lydie was sure to be obdurate.

Louis XV scowled at the picture of youth and beauty presented by that elegant figure in dove-gray silk, with the proud head carried high, the unconscious look of power and of strength in the large gray eyes, so grave and so fixed. In his mind there had already flashed the thought that milor's sudden change of att.i.tude--for it was a change, of that his Majesty had no doubt--was due to a subtle sense of fear which had made him conscious of his wife's presence, although from her position and his own he could not possibly have seen her approach.

This made him still more vexed with Lydie, and as she seemed calmly to be waiting for an explanation, he replied quite gruffly:

"Nay, madame, you mistake; I a.s.sure you milor and ourselves are perfectly at one--we were so until a few moments ago."

"Until I came," she said quietly. "I am glad of that, for 'twill be easy enough, I hope, to convince your Majesty that my presence can have made no difference to M. le Controleur's att.i.tude of deep respect."

"Pardi, we hope not!" interposed Mme. de Pompadour acidly; "but we hope milor hath found his tongue at last and will do the convincing himself."

But Louis XV was not prepared to reopen the discussion in the presence of Mme. Lydie. He knew, quite as well as M. le Duc d'Aumont himself, that she would have nothing but contempt and horror for that infamous proposal, which he was more determined than ever to accept.

It was tiresome of course not to have the cooperation of Lord Eglinton; that weak fool now would, no doubt, be overruled by his wife. At the same time--and Louis hugged the thought as it sprang to his mind--there were other ways of obtaining possession of Charles Edward Stuart's person than the direct one which he had proposed to milor just now. The young Pretender was bound sooner or later to leave the sh.o.r.es of Scotland. Unbeknown to King Louis a ship might be sent by private friends to rescue the fugitive, but that ship could be intercepted on her way home, and, after all, Charles Edward was bound to land in France some day!--and then----