CHAPTER XVII.
MADAME AND GUICHE.
It will not be forgotten that the Comte de Guiche had left thequeen-mother's apartment on the day when Louis XIV. presented LaValliere with the beautiful bracelets he had won at the lottery. Thecomte walked to and fro for some time outside the palace in the greatestdistress, from a thousand suspicions and anxieties with which his mindwas beset. Presently he stopped and waited on the terrace opposite thegrove of trees, watching for Madame's departure. More than half an hourpassed away; and as he was at that moment quite alone, the comte couldhardly have had any very diverting ideas at his command. He drew histablets from his pocket, and, after hesitating over and over again,determined to write these words--"Madame, I implore you to grant me onemoment's conversation. Do not be alarmed at this request, which containsnothing in any way opposed to the profound respect with which Isubscribe myself, etc., etc." He then signed and folded this singularsupplication, when he suddenly observed several ladies leaving thechateau, and afterward several men also, in fact almost every person whohad formed the queen's circle. He saw La Valliere herself, thenMontalais talking with Malicorne; he saw the departure of the very lastof the numerous guests who had a short time before thronged thequeen-mother's cabinet.
Madame herself had not passed; she would be obliged, however, to crossthe courtyard in order to enter her own apartments; and from the terracewhere he was standing, De Guiche could see all that was passing in thecourtyard. At last, he saw Madame leave, attended by a couple of pages,who were carrying torches before her. She was walking very quickly; assoon as she reached the door she said:
"Let some one go and see after De Guiche, he has to render me an accountof a mission he had to discharge for me; if he should be disengaged,request him to be good enough to come to my apartment."
De Guiche remained silent and concealed in the shade; but, as soon asMadame had withdrawn, he darted from the terrace down the steps, andassumed a most indifferent air, so that the pages who were hurryingtoward his rooms might meet him.
"Ah! it is Madame then who is seeking me!" he said to himself, quiteovercome; and he crushed in his hand the letter which had now becomeuseless.
"M. le Comte," said one of the pages, approaching him, "we are indeedmost fortunate in meeting you."
"Why so, messieurs?"
"A command from Madame."
"From Madame!" said De Guiche, looking surprised.
"Yes, M. le Comte, her royal highness has been asking for you: sheexpects to hear, she told us, the result of a commission you had toexecute for her. Are you at liberty?"
"I am quite at her royal highness's orders."
"Will you have the goodness to follow us, then?"
When De Guiche ascended to the princess's apartments, he found her paleand agitated. Montalais was standing at the door, apparently in somedegree uneasy about what was passing in her mistress's mind. De Guicheappeared.
"Ah! is that you, Monsieur de Guiche?" said Madame; "come in, I beg.Mademoiselle de Montalais, I do not require your attendance any longer."
Montalais, more puzzled than ever, curtseyed and withdrew, and De Guicheand the princess were left alone. The comte had every advantage in hisfavor; it was Madame who had summoned him to a rendezvous. But how wasit possible for the comte to make use of this advantage? Madame was sowhimsical, and her disposition was so changeable. She soon allowed thisto be perceived, for, suddenly opening the conversation, she said,"Well! have you nothing to say to me?"
He imagined she must have guessed his thoughts; he fancied (for thosewho are in love are so constituted, they are as credulous and blind aspoets or prophets), he fancied she knew how ardent was his desire to seeher, and also the subject of it.
"Yes, madame," he said, "and I think it very singular."
"The affair of the bracelets," she exclaimed eagerly; "you mean that, Isuppose?"
"Yes, madame."
"And you think the king is in love, do you not?"
Guiche looked at her for some time; her eyes sunk under his gaze, whichseemed to read her very heart.
"I think," he said, "that the king may possibly have had the idea ofannoying some one here; were it not for that, the king would not showhimself so earnest in his attentions as he is; he would not run the riskof compromising, from mere thoughtlessness of disposition, a young girlagainst whom no one has been hitherto able to say a word."
"Indeed! the bold, shameless girl!" said the princess, haughtily.
"I can positively assure your royal highness," said De Guiche, with afirmness marked by great respect, "that Mademoiselle de la Valliere isbeloved by a man who merits every respect, for he is a brave andhonorable gentleman."
"Bragelonne, perhaps?"
"My friend; yes, madame."
"Well, and although he is your friend, what does that matter to theking?"
"The king knows that Bragelonne is affianced to Mademoiselle de laValliere; and as Raoul has served the king most valiantly, the king willnot inflict an irreparable injury upon him."
Madame began to laugh in a manner that produced a mournful impressionupon De Guiche.
"I repeat, madame, I do not believe the king is in love withMademoiselle de la Valliere; and the proof that I do not believe it is,that I was about to ask you whose _amour propre_ it is likely the kingis, in this circumstance, desirous of wounding? You who are wellacquainted with the whole court, can perhaps assist me in ascertainingthat; and assuredly, with greater reason too, since it is everywheresaid that your royal highness is on very intimate terms with the king."
Madame bit her lips, and, unable to assign any good and sufficientreasons, changed the conversation. "Prove to me," she said, fixing onhim one of those looks in which the whole soul seems to pass into theeyes, "prove to me, I say, that you intended to interrogate me at thevery moment I sent for you."
De Guiche gravely drew from his tablets what he had written, and showedit to her.
"Sympathy," she said.
"Yes," said the comte, with an indescribable tenderness of tone,"sympathy. I have explained to you how and why I sought you; you,however, have yet to tell me, madame, why you sent for me."
"True," replied the princess. She hesitated, and then suddenlyexclaimed, "Those bracelets will drive me mad!"
"You expected the king would offer them to you," replied De Guiche.
"Why not?"
"But before you, madame, before you, his sister-in-law, was there notthe queen herself, to whom the king should have offered them?"
"Before La Valliere," cried the princess, wounded to the quick, "couldhe not have presented them to me? Was there not the whole court, indeed,to choose from?"
"I assure you, madame," said the comte, respectfully, "that if any oneheard you speak in this manner, if any one were to see how red your eyesare, and, Heaven forgive me, to see, too, that earth trembling on youreyelids, it would be said that your royal highness was jealous."
"Jealous!" said the princess, haughtily; "jealous of La Valliere!"
She expected to see De Guiche yield beneath her haughty gesture and herproud tone; but he simply and boldly replied, "Jealous of La Valliere;yes, madame."
"Am I to suppose, monsieur," she stammered out, "that your object is toinsult me?"
"It is not possible, madame," replied the comte, slightly agitated, butresolved to master that fiery nature.
"Leave the room," said the princess, thoroughly exasperated; De Guiche'scoolness and silent respect having made her completely lose her temper.
De Guiche fell back a step, bowed slowly, but with great respect, drewhimself up, looking as white as his lace cuffs, and in a voice slightlytrembling, said, "It was hardly worth while to have hurried here to besubjected to this unmerited disgrace." And he turned away with hastysteps.
He had scarcely gone half a dozen paces when Madame darted like atigress after him, seized him by the cuff, and, making him turn roundagain, said, trembling with passion as she did so, "The respect that youpretend to have is more
insulting than insult itself. Insult me, if youplease, but at least speak."
"And do you, madame," said the comte, gently, as he drew his sword,"thrust this sword into my heart, rather than kill me by slow degrees."
At the look he fixed upon her--a look full of love, resolution, anddespair even--she knew how readily the comte, so outwardly calm inappearance, would pass his sword through his own breast if she addedanother word. She tore the blade from his hands, and pressing his armwith a feverish impatience, which might pass for tenderness, said--
"Do not be too hard with me, comte. You see how I am suffering, and youhave no pity for me."
Tears, which were the last crisis of the attack, stifled her voice. Assoon as De Guiche saw her weep, he took her in his arms and carried herto an armchair; in another moment she would have been suffocated fromsuppressed passion.
"Oh, why," he murmured, as he knelt by her side, "why do you concealyour troubles from me? Do you love any one--tell me? It would kill me, Iknow, but not until after I should have comforted, consoled, and servedyou even."
"And do you love me to that extent?" she replied, completely conquered.
"I do indeed love you to that extent, madame."
She placed both her hands in his. "My heart is indeed another's," shemurmured in so low a tone that her voice could hardly be heard; but heheard it, and said, "Is it the king you love?"
She gently shook her head, and her smile was like a clear bright streakin the clouds, through which, after the tempest had passed away, onealmost fancies Paradise is opening. "But," she added, "there are otherpassions stirring in a high-born heart. Love is poetry; but the life ofthe heart is pride. Comte, I was born upon a throne, I am proud andjealous of my rank. Why does the king gather such unworthy objects roundhim?"
"Once more, I repeat," said the comte, "you are acting unjustly towardthat poor girl, who will one day be my friend's wife."
"Are you simple enough to believe that, comte?"
"If I did not believe it," he said, turning very pale, "Bragelonneshould be informed of it to-morrow; indeed he should, if I thought thatpoor La Valliere had forgotten the vows she had exchanged with Raoul.But no, it would be cowardly to betray any woman's secret; it would becriminal to disturb a friend's peace of mind."
"You think, then," said the princess, with a wild burst of laughter,"that ignorance is happiness?"
"I believe it," he replied.
"Prove it to me, then," she said hurriedly.
"It is easily done, madame. It is reported through the whole court thatthe king loves you, and that you return his affection."
"Well?" she said, breathing with difficulty.
"Well; admit for a moment that Raoul, my friend, had come and said tome, 'Yes, the king loves Madame, and has made an impression upon herheart,' I possibly should have slain Raoul."
"It would have been necessary," said the princess, with the obstinacy ofa woman who feels herself not easily overcome, "for M. de Bragelonne tohave had proofs, before he could venture to speak to you in thatmanner."
"Such, however, is the case," replied De Guiche, with a deep sigh, "thatnot having been warned, I have never examined the matter seriously; andI now find that my ignorance has saved my life."
"So, then, you would drive your selfishness and coldness to thatextent," said Madame, "that you would let this unhappy young mancontinue to love La Valliere?"
"I would, until La Valliere's guilt were revealed."
"But the bracelets?"
"Well, madame, since you yourself expected to receive them from theking, what could I possibly have said?"
The argument was a telling one, and the princess was overwhelmed by it,and from that moment her defeat was assured. But as her heart and mindwere instinct with noble and generous feelings, she understood DeGuiche's extreme delicacy. She saw that in his heart he really suspectedthat the king was in love with La Valliere, and that he did not wish toresort to the common expedient of ruining a rival in the mind of a womanby giving the latter the assurance and certainty that this rival'saffections were transferred to another woman. She guessed that hissuspicions of La Valliere were aroused, and that in order to leavehimself time for his conviction to undergo a change, so as not to ruinher utterly, he was determined to pursue a certain straightforward lineof conduct. She could read so much real greatness of character, and suchtrue generosity of disposition in her lover, that her heart seemed towarm with affection toward him, whose passion for her was so pure anddelicate in its nature. Despite his fear of incurring her displeasure,De Guiche, by retaining his position as a man of proud independence offeeling and of deep devotion, became almost a hero in her estimation,and reduced her to the state of a jealous and little-minded woman. Sheloved him for it so tenderly, that she could not refuse to give him aproof of her affection.
"See, how many words we have wasted," she said, taking his hand:"suspicions, anxieties, mistrust, sufferings--I think we have mentionedall those words."
"Alas! madame, yes."
"Efface them from your heart as I drive them from mine. Whether LaValliere does or does not love the king, and whether the king does ordoes not love La Valliere--from this moment you and I will draw adistinction in the two characters I have to perform. You open your eyesso wide that I am sure you do not understand me."
"You are so impetuous, madame, that I always tremble at the fear ofdispleasing you."
"And see how he trembles now, poor fellow," she said, with the mostcharming playfulness of manner. "Yes, monsieur, I have two charactersto perform. I am the sister of the king, the sister-in-law of the king'swife. In this character ought I not to take an interest in thesedomestic intrigues? Come, tell me what you think?"
"As little as possible, madame."
"Agreed, monsieur; but it is a question of dignity; and then, you know,I am the wife of the king's brother." Guiche sighed. "A circumstance,"she added, with an expression of great tenderness, "which will remindyou that I am always to be treated with the profoundest respect." Guichefell at her feet, which he kissed, with the religious fervor of aworshiper. "And I begin to think that, really and truly, I have anothercharacter to perform. I was almost forgetting it."
"Name it, oh! name it," said Guiche.
"I am a woman," she said, in a voice lower than ever, "and I loveanother." He rose; she opened her arms, and their lips were pressedtogether. A footstep was heard behind the tapestry, and Mademoiselle deMontalais appeared.
"What do you want?" said Madame.
"M. de Guiche is wanted," replied Montalais, who was just in time to seethe agitation of the actors of these four characters; for Guiche hadconstantly carried out his part with the greatest heroism.