The Vicomte de Bragelonne

  CHAPTER I.

  SHOWING WHAT NEITHER THE NAIAD NOR DRYAD HAD ANTICIPATED.

  Saint-Aignan stopped at the foot of the staircase which led to the_entresol_, where the maids of honor were lodged, and to the firstfloor, where Madame's apartments were situated. Then, by means of one ofthe servants who was passing, he sent to apprise Malicorne, who wasstill with Monsieur. After having waited ten minutes, Malicorne arrived,looking full of suspicion and importance. The king drew back toward thedarkest part of the vestibule. Saint-Aignan, on the contrary, advancedto meet him, but at the first words, indicating his wish, Malicorne drewback abruptly.

  "Oh! oh!" he said, "you want me to introduce you into the rooms of themaids of honor?"

  "Yes."

  "You know very well that I cannot do anything of the kind, without beingmade acquainted with your object."

  "Unfortunately, my dear Monsieur Malicorne, it is quite impossible forme to give you any explanation: you must therefore confide in me as in afriend who got you out of a great difficulty yesterday, and who now begsyou to draw him out of one to-day."

  "Yet, I told you, monsieur, what my object was; that my object was notto sleep out in the open air, and any man might express the same wish,while you, however, admit nothing."

  "Believe me, my dear Monsieur Malicorne," Saint-Aignan persisted, "thatif I were permitted to explain myself, I would do so."

  "In that case, my dear monsieur, it is impossible for me to allow you toenter Mademoiselle de Montalais's apartment."

  "Why so?"

  "You know why better than any one else, since you caught me on the wallpaying my addresses to Mademoiselle de Montalais; it would, therefore,be an excess of kindness, on my part, you will admit, since I am payingmy attentions to her, to open the door of her room to you."

  "But who told you it was on her account I asked you for the key?"

  "For whom, then?"

  "She does not lodge there alone, I suppose?"

  "No, certainly; for Mademoiselle de la Valliere shares her rooms withher; but, really, you have nothing more to do with Mademoiselle de laValliere than with Mademoiselle de Montalais, and there are only two mento whom I would give this key; to M. de Bragelonne, if he begged me togive it him, and to the king if he ordered me to do so."

  "In that case, give me the key, monsieur, I order you to do so," saidthe king, advancing from the obscurity, and partially opening his cloak."Mademoiselle de Montalais will step down to talk with you, while we goupstairs to Mademoiselle de la Valliere, for, in fact, it is she onlywhom we require."

  "The king," exclaimed Malicorne, bowing down to the very ground.

  "Yes, the king," said Louis, smiling, "the king, who is as pleased withyour resistance as with your capitulation. Rise, monsieur, and renderus the service we request of you."

  "I obey your majesty," said Malicorne, leading the way up the staircase.

  "Get Mademoiselle de Montalais to come down," said the king, "and do notbreathe a word to her of my visit."

  Malicorne bowed in sign of obedience, and proceeded up the staircase.But the king, after a hasty reflection, followed him, and that, too,with such rapidity, that although Malicorne was already more thanhalf-way up the staircase, the king reached the room at the same momenthe did. He then observed by the door which remained half-opened behindMalicorne, La Valliere, sitting in an armchair with her head thrownback, and in the opposite corner Montalais, who, in her dressing-gown,was standing before a looking-glass, engaged in arranging her hair, andparleying all the while with Malicorne. The king hurriedly opened thedoor, and entered the room. Montalais called out at the noise made bythe opening of the door, and, recognizing the king, made her escape. LaValliere rose from her seat, like a dead person who had been galvanized,and then fell back again in her armchair. The king advanced slowlytoward her.

  "You wished for an audience, I believe," he said, coldly; "I am ready tohear you. Speak."

  Saint-Aignan, faithful to his character of being deaf, blind, and dumb,had stationed himself in a corner of the door, upon a stool which hefortuitously found there. Concealed by the tapestry which covered thedoorway, and leaning his back against the wall, he could in this waylisten without been seen; resigning himself to the post of a goodwatch-dog, who patiently waits and watches without ever getting in hismaster's way.

  La Valliere, terror-stricken at the king's irritated aspect, again rosea second time, and assuming a posture of humility and entreaty,murmured, "Forgive me, sire."

  "What need is there for my forgiveness?" asked Louis.

  "Sire, I have been guilty of a great fault; nay, more than a greatfault, a great crime."

  "You?"

  "Sire, I have offended your majesty."

  "Not the slightest degree in the world," replied Louis XIV.

  "I implore you, sire, not to maintain toward me that terribleseriousness of manner which reveals your majesty's just anger. I feel Ihave offended you, sire; but I wish to explain to you how it was that Ihave not offended you of my own accord."

  "In the first place," said the king, "in what way can you possibly haveoffended me? I cannot perceive how. Surely not on account of a younggirl's harmless and very innocent jest? You turned the credulity of ayoung man into ridicule--it was very natural to do so; any other womanin your place would have done the same."

  "Oh! your majesty overwhelms me by your remark."

  "Why so?"

  "Because if I had been the author of the jest, it would not have beeninnocent."

  "Well! is that all you had to say to me in soliciting an audience?" saidthe king, as though about to turn away.

  Thereupon, La Valliere, in an abrupt and broken voice, her eyes dried upby the fire of her tears, made a step toward the king, and said, "Didyour majesty hear everything?"

  "Everything, what?"

  "Everything I said beneath the royal oak."

  "I did not lose a syllable."

  "And when your majesty heard me, you were able to think I had abusedyour credulity."

  "Credulity; yes, indeed you have selected the very word."

  "And your majesty did not suppose that a poor girl like myself mightpossibly be compelled to submit to the will of others."

  "Forgive me," returned the king; "but I shall never be able tounderstand that she, who of her own free will could express herself sounreservedly beneath the royal oak, would allow herself to beinfluenced to such an extent by the direction of others."

  "But the threat held out against me, sire."

  "Threat! who threatened you--who dared to threaten you?"

  "They who have the right to do so, sire."

  "I do not recognize any one as possessing the right to threaten in mykingdom."

  "Forgive me, sire, but near your majesty, even, there are personssufficiently high in position to have, or to believe that they possess,the right of injuring a young girl, without fortune, and possessing onlyher reputation."

  "In what way injure her?"

  "In depriving her of her reputation, by disgracefully expelling her fromthe court."

  "Oh! Mademoiselle de la Valliere," said the king, bitterly, "I preferthose persons who exculpate themselves without incriminating others."

  "Sire!"

  "Yes; and I confess that I greatly regret to perceive that an easyjustification, as your own might be, should have been complicated in mypresence by a tissue of reproaches and imputations against others."

  "And which you do not believe?" exclaimed La Valliere. The king remainedsilent.

  "Nay, but tell me!" repeated La Valliere, vehemently.

  "I regret to confess it," replied the king, bowing coldly.

  The young girl uttered a deep groan, striking her hands together indespair. "You do not believe me, then," she said to the king, who stillremained silent, while poor La Valliere's features became visiblychanged at his continued silence. "Therefore, you believe," she said,"that I settled this ridiculous, this infamous plot, of trifling, in soshameless a manner, with your majesty." br />
  "Nay," said the king, "it is neither ridiculous nor infamous, it is noteven a plot; it is merely a jest, more or less amusing, and nothingmore."

  "Oh!" murmured the young girl, "the king does not, and will not,believe me, then?"

  "No, indeed, I will not believe you," said the king. "Besides, in pointof fact, what can be more natural? The king, you argue, follows me,listens to me, watches me; the king wishes perhaps to amuse himself atmy expense, I will amuse myself at his, and as the king is verytender-hearted, I will take his heart by storm."

  La Valliere hid her face in her hands, as she stifled her sobs. The kingcontinued most pitilessly, he revenged himself upon the poor victimbefore him for all that he had himself suffered.

  "Let us invent, then, this story of my loving him and preferring him toothers. The king is so simple and so conceited that he will believe me;and then we can go and tell others how credulous the king is, and canenjoy a laugh at his expense."

  "Oh!" exclaimed La Valliere, "to think that, to believe that! it isfrightful."

  "And," pursued the king, "that is not all; if this self-conceited princeshould take our jest seriously, if he should be imprudent enough toexhibit before others anything like delight at it, well, in that case,the king will be humiliated before the whole court; and what adelightful story it will be, too, for him to whom I am really attached,a part of my dowry for my husband, to have the adventure to relate ofthe king who was so amusingly deceived by a young girl."

  "Sire!" exclaimed La Valliere, her mind bewildered, almost wandering,indeed, "not another word, I implore you; do you not see that you arekilling me?"

  "A jest, nothing but a jest," murmured the king, who, however, began tobe somewhat affected.

  La Valliere fell upon her knees, and that so violently, that their soundcould be heard upon the hard floor. "Sire," she said, "I prefer shame todisloyalty."

  "What do you mean?" inquired the king, without moving a step to raisethe young girl from her knees.

  "Sire, when I shall have sacrificed my honor and my reason both to you,you will perhaps believe in my loyalty. The tale which was related toyou in Madame's apartments, and by Madame herself, is utterly false; andthat which I said beneath the great oak--"

  "Well!"

  "That only is the truth."

  "What!" exclaimed the king.

  "Sire," exclaimed La Valliere, hurried away by the violence of heremotions, "were I to die of shame on the very spot where my knees arefixed, I would repeat it until my latest breath; I said that I lovedyou, and it is true; I do love you."

  "You!"

  "I have loved you, sire, from the very day first I saw you; from themoment when at Blois, where I was pining away my existence, your royallooks, full of light and life, were first bent upon me. I love youstill, sire; it is a crime of high treason, I know, that a poor girllike myself should love her sovereign and should presume to tell him so.Punish me for my audacity, despise me for my shameless immodesty; but donot ever say, do not ever think, that I have jested with or deceivedyou. I belong to a family whose loyalty has been proved, sire; and I,too, love my king."

  Suddenly her strength, voice, and respiration ceased, and she fellforward, like the flower Virgil alludes to, which the scythe of thereaper touched as it passed over. The king, at these words, at thisvehement entreaty, no longer retained either ill-will or doubt in hismind; his whole heart seemed to expand at the glowing breath of anaffection which proclaimed itself in such a noble and courageouslanguage. When, therefore, he heard the passionate confession of thatyoung girl's affection, his strength seemed to fail him, and he hid hisface in his hands. But when he felt La Valliere's hands clinging to hisown, when their warm pressure fired his blood, he bent forward, andpassing his arm round La Valliere's waist, he raised her from the groundand pressed her against his heart. But she, her drooping head fallenforward on her bosom, seemed to have ceased to live. The king,terrified, called out for Saint-Aignan. Saint-Aignan, who had carriedhis discretion so far as to remain without stirring in his corner,pretending to wipe away a tear, ran forward at the king's summons. Hethen assisted Louis to seat the young girl upon a couch, slapped herhands, sprinkled some Hungary water over her face, calling out all thewhile, "Come, come, it is all over; the king believes you, and forgivesyou. There, there now! take care, or you will agitate his majesty toomuch; his majesty is so sensitive, so tender-hearted. Now, really,Mademoiselle de la Valliere, you must pay attention, for the king isvery pale."

  The fact was, the king was visibly losing color. But La Valliere did notmove.

  "Do pray recover," continued Saint-Aignan, "I beg, I implore you; it isreally time you should; think only of one thing, that if the king shouldbecome unwell, I should be obliged to summon his physician. What a stateof things that would be! So do pray rouse yourself; make an effort, praydo, and do it at once, too."

  It was difficult to display more persuasive eloquence than Saint-Aignandid, but something still more powerful and of a more energetic naturethan this eloquence aroused La Valliere. The king, who was kneelingbefore her, covered the palms of her hands with those burning kisseswhich are to the hands what a kiss upon the lips is to the face. LaValliere's senses returned to her; she languidly opened her eyes, and,with a dying look, murmured, "Oh! sire, has your majesty pardoned me,then?"

  The king did not reply, for he was still too much overcome. Saint-Aignanthought it his duty again to retire, for he observed the passionatedevotion which was displayed in the king's gaze. La Valliere arose.

  "And now, sire, that I have justified myself, at least I trust so inyour majesty's eyes, grant me leave to retire into a convent. I shallbless your majesty all my life, and I shall die there thanking andloving Heaven for having granted me one day of perfect happiness."

  "No, no," replied the king, "you will live here blessing Heaven, on thecontrary, but loving Louis, who will make your existence one of perfectfelicity--Louis who loves you--Louis who swears it."

  "Oh! sire, sire!"

  And upon this doubt of La Valliere, the king's kisses became so warmthat Saint-Aignan thought it his duty to retire behind the tapestry.These kisses however, which she had not had the strength at first toresist, began to intimidate the young girl.

  "Oh! sire," she exclaimed, "do not make me repent my loyalty, for itwould show me that your majesty despises me still."

  "Mademoiselle de la Valliere," said the king, suddenly, drawing backwith an air full of respect, "there is nothing in the world that I loveand honor more than yourself, and nothing in my court, I call Heaven towitness, shall be so highly regarded as you shall be henceforward. Ientreat your forgiveness for my transport; it arose from an excess ofaffection, but I can prove to you that I shall love still more than everby respecting you as much as you can possibly desire." Then bendingbefore her, and taking her by the hand, he said to her, "Will you honorme by accepting the kiss I press upon your hand?" And the king's lipswere pressed respectfully and lightly upon the young girl's tremblinghand. "Henceforth," added Louis, rising and bending his glance upon LaValliere, "henceforth you are under my safeguard. Do not speak to anyone of the injury I have done you, forgive others that which they mayhave been able to do you. For the future you shall be so far above allthose, that, far from inspiring you with fear, they shall be evenbeneath your pity." And he bowed as reverently as though he were leavinga place of worship. Then calling to Saint-Aignan, who approached withgreat humility, he said, "I hope, comte, that Mademoiselle de laValliere will kindly confer a little of her friendship upon you, inreturn for that which I have vowed to her eternally."

  Saint-Aignan bent his knee before La Valliere, saying, "How happy,indeed, would such an honor make me!"

  "I shall send your companion back to you," said the king. "Farewell! or,rather, adieu till we meet again; do not forget me in your prayers, Ientreat."

  "Oh! no," said La Valliere, "be assured that you and heaven are in myheart together."

  These words of Louise elated the king, who, full of happin
ess, hurriedSaint-Aignan down the stairs. Madame had not anticipated thistermination, and neither the Naiad nor the Dryad had said a word aboutit.