St. Martin's Summer Part 3

"Garnache," came the other's crisp, metallic voice, and the name had a sound as of an oath on his lips. "Martin Marie Rigobert de Garnache.

I come to you on an errand of Her Majesty's, as this my warrant will apprise you." And he proffered the paper he held, which Tressan accepted from his hand.

A change was visible in the wily Seneschal's fat countenance. Its round expanse had expressed interrogation until now; but at the Parisian's announcement that he was an emissary of the Queen's, Tressan insinuated into it just that look of surprise and of increased deference which would have been natural had he not already been forewarned of Monsieur de Garnache's mission and ident.i.ty.

He placed a chair at his visitor's disposal, himself resuming his seat at his writing-table, and unfolding the paper Garnache had given him.

The newcomer seated himself, hitched his sword-belt round so that he could lean both hands upon the hilt, and sat, stiff and immovable, awaiting the Lord Seneschal's pleasure. From his desk across the room the secretary, idly chewing the feathered end of his goose-quill, took silent stock of the man from Paris, and wondered.

Tressan folded the paper carefully, and returned it to its owner. It was no more than a formal credential, setting forth that Garnache was travelling into Dauphiny on a State affair, and commanding Monsieur de Tressan to give him every a.s.sistance he might require in the performance of his errand.

"Parfaitement," purred the Lord Seneschal. "And now, monsieur, if you will communicate to me the nature of your affair, you shall find me entirely at your service."

"It goes without saying that you are acquainted with the Chateau de Condillac?" began Garnache, plunging straight into business.

"Perfectly." The Seneschal leaned back, and was concerned to feel his pulses throbbing a shade too quickly. But he controlled his features, and maintained a placid, bland expression.

"You are perhaps acquainted with its inhabitants?"

"Yes."

"Intimate with them?"

The Seneschal pursed his lips, arched his brows, and slowly waved his podgy hands, a combination of grimace and gesture that said much or nothing. But reflecting that Monsieur de Tressan had a tongue, Garnache apparently did not opine it worth his while to set a strain upon his own imagination, for--

"Intimate with them?" he repeated, and this time there was a sharper note in his voice.

Tressan leaned forward and brought his finger-tips together. His voice was as urbane as it lay within its power to be.

"I understood that monsieur was proposing to state his business, not to question mine."

Garnache sat back in his chair, and his eyes narrowed. He scented opposition, and the greatest stumbling-block in Garnache's career had been that he could never learn to brook opposition from any man. That characteristic, evinced early in life, had all but been the ruin of him.

He was a man of high intellectual gifts, of military skill and great resource; out of consideration for which had he been chosen by Marie de Medicis to come upon this errand. But he marred it all by a temper so ungovernable that in Paris there was current a byword, "Explosive as Garnache."

Little did Tressan dream to what a cask of gunpowder he was applying the match of his smug pertness. Nor did Garnache let him dream it just yet.

He controlled himself betimes, bethinking him that, after all, there might be some reason in what this fat fellow said.

"You misapprehend my purpose, sir," said he, his lean brown hand stroking his long chin. "I but sought to learn how far already you may be informed of what is taking place up there, to the end that I may spare myself the pains of citing facts with which already you are acquainted. Still, monsieur, I am willing to proceed upon the lines which would appear to be more agreeable to yourself.

"This, then, is the sum of the affair that brings me: The late Marquis de Condillac left two sons. The elder, Florimond--who is the present marquis, and who has been and still continues absent, warring in Italy, since before his father's death--is the stepson of the present Dowager, she being the mother of the younger son, Marius de Condillac.

"Should you observe me to be anywhere at error, I beg, monsieur, that you will have the complaisance to correct me."

The Seneschal bowed gravely, and Monsieur de Garnache continued:

"Now this younger son--I believe that he is in his twenty-first year at present--has been something of a scapegrace."

"A scapegrace? Bon Dieu, no. That is a harsh name to give him. A little indiscreet at times, a little rash, as is the way of youth."

He would have said more, but the man from Paris was of no mind to waste time on quibbles.

"Very well," he snapped, cutting in. "We will say, a little indiscreet.

My errand is not concerned with Monsieur Marius's morals or with his lack of them. These indiscretions which you belittle appear to have been enough to have estranged him from his father, a circ.u.mstance which but served the more to endear him to his mother. I am told that she is a very handsome woman, and that the boy favours her surprisingly."

"Ah!" sighed the Seneschal in a rapture. "A beautiful woman--a n.o.ble, splendid woman.'

"Hum!" Garnache observed the ecstatic simper with a grim eye. Then he proceeded with his story.

"The late marquis possessed in his neighbour, the also deceased Monsieur de La Vauvraye, a very dear and valued friend. Monsieur de La Vauvraye had an only child, a daughter, to inherit his very considerable estates probably the wealthiest in all Dauphiny, so I am informed. It was the dearest wish of his heart to transform what had been a lifelong friendship in his own generation into a closer relationship in the next--a wish that found a very ready echo in the heart of Monsieur de Condillac. Florimond de Condillac was sixteen years of age at the time, and Valerie de La Vauvraye fourteen. For all their tender years, they were betrothed, and they grew up to love each other and to look forward to the consummation of the plans their fathers had laid for them."

"Monsieur, monsieur," the Seneschal protested, "how can you possibly infer so much? How can you say that they loved each other? What authority can you have for pretending to know what was in their inmost hearts?"

"The authority of Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye," was the unanswerable rejoinder. "I am telling you, more or less, what she herself wrote to the Queen."

"Ah! Well, well--proceed, monsieur."

"This marriage should render Florimond de Condillac the wealthiest and most powerful gentleman in Dauphiny--one of the wealthiest in France; and the idea of it pleased the old marquis, inasmuch as the disparity there would be between the worldly possessions of his two sons would serve to mark his disapproval of the younger. But before settling down, Florimond signified a desire to see the world, as was fit and proper and becoming in a young man who was later to a.s.sume such wide responsibilities. His father, realizing the wisdom of such a step, made but slight objection, and at the age of twenty Florimond set out for the Italian wars. Two years afterwards, a little over six months ago, his father died, and was followed to the grave some weeks later by Monsieur de La Vauvraye. The latter, with a want of foresight which has given rise to the present trouble, misjudging the character of the Dowager of Condillac, entrusted to her care his daughter Valerie pending Florimond's return, when the nuptials would naturally be immediately celebrated. I am probably telling you no more than you already know.

But you owe the infliction to your own unwillingness to answer my questions."

"No, no, monsieur; I a.s.sure you that in what you say there is much that is entirely new to me."

"I rejoice to hear it, Monsieur de Tressan," said Garnache very seriously, "for had you been in possession of all these facts, Her Majesty might have a right to learn how it chanced that you had nowise interfered in what is toward at Condillac.

"But to proceed: Madame de Condillac and her precious Benjamin--this Marius--finding themselves, in Florimond's absence, masters of the situation, have set about turning it to their own best advantage.

Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye, whilst being nominally under their guardianship, finds herself practically gaoled by them, and odious plans are set before her to marry Marius. Could the Dowager but accomplish this, it would seem that she would not only be a.s.suring a future of ease and dignity for her son, but also be giving vent to all her pent-up hatred of her stepson.

"Mademoiselle, however, withstands them, and in this she is aided by a fortuitous circ.u.mstance which has arisen out of the overbearing arrogance that appears to be madame's chief characteristic. Condillac after the marquis's death had refused to pay t.i.thes to Mother Church and has flouted and insulted the Bishop. This prelate, after finding remonstrance vain, has retorted by placing Condillac under an Interdict, depriving all within it of the benefit of clergy. Thus, they have been unable to find a priest to venture thither, so that even had they willed to marry mademoiselle by force to Marius, they lacked the actual means of doing so.

"Florimond continues absent. We have every reason to believe that he has been left in ignorance of his father's death. Letters coming from him from time to time prove that he was alive and well at least until three months ago. A messenger has been dispatched to find him and urge him to return home at once. But pending his arrival the Queen has determined to take the necessary steps to ensure that Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye shall be released from her captivity, that she shall suffer no further molestation at the hands of Madame de Condillac and her son--enfin, that she shall run no further risks.

"My errand, monsieur, is to acquaint you with these facts, and to request you to proceed to Condillac and deliver thence Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye, whom I am subsequently to escort to Paris and place under Her Majesty's protection until such time as the new marquis shall return to claim her."

Having concluded, Monsieur de Garnache sat back in his chair, and threw one leg over the other, fixing his eyes upon the Seneschal's face and awaiting his reply.

On that gross countenance before him he saw fall the shadow of perplexity. Tressan was monstrous ill-at-ease, and his face lost a good deal of its habitual plethora of colour. He sought to temporize.

"Does it not occur to you, monsieur, that perhaps too much importance may have been attached to the word of this child--this Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye?"

"Does it occur to you that such has been the case, that she has overstated it?" counter-questioned Monsieur de Garnache.

"No, no. I do not say that. But--but--would it not be better--more--ah--satisfactory to all concerned, if you yourself were to go to Condillac, and deliver your message in person, demanding mademoiselle?"

The man from Paris looked at him a moment, then stood up suddenly, and shifted the carriages of his sword back to their normal position. His brows came together in a frown, from which the Seneschal argued that his suggestion was not well received.

"Monsieur," said the Parisian very coldly, like a man who contains a rising anger, "let me tell you that this is the first time in my life that I have been concerned in anything that had to do with women and I am close upon forty years of age. The task, I can a.s.sure you, was little to my taste. I embarked upon it because, being a soldier and having received my orders, I was in the unfortunate position of being unable to help myself. But I intend, monsieur, to adhere rigidly to the letter of these commands. Already I have endured more than enough in the interests of this damsel. I have ridden from Paris, and that means close upon a week in the saddle--no little thing to a man who has acquired certain habits of life and developed a taste for certain minor comforts which he is very reluctant to forgo. I have fed and slept at inns, living on the worst of fares and sleeping on the hardest, and hardly the cleanest, of beds. Ventregris! Figure to yourself that last night we lay at Luzan, in the only inn the place contained--a hovel, Monsieur le Seneschal, a hovel in which I would not kennel a dog I loved."

His face flushed, and his voice rose as he dwelt upon the things he had undergone.

"My servant and I slept in a dormitory'--a thousand devils! monsieur, in a dormitory! Do you realize it? We had for company a drunken vintner, a pedlar, a pilgrim on his way to Rome, and two peasant women; and they sent us to bed without candles, for modesty's sake. I ask you to conceive my feelings in such a case as that. I could tell you more; but that as a sample of what I have undergone could scarcely be surpa.s.sed."