CHAPTER XXXVIII.
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIERE'S POCKET-HANDKERCHIEF.
Madame was not bad-hearted, she was only hasty and impetuous. The kingwas not imprudent, he was only in love. Hardly had they both enteredinto this sort of compact, which terminated in La Valliere's recall,when they both sought to make as much as they could by their bargain.The king wished to see La Valliere every moment in the day; whileMadame, who was sensible of the king's annoyance ever since he had soentreated her, would not abandon La Valliere without a contest. Sheplanted every conceivable difficulty in the king's path; he was, infact, obliged, in order to get a glimpse of La Valliere, to beexceedingly devoted in his attentions to his sister-in-law, and this,indeed, was Madame's plan of policy. As she had chosen some one tosecond her efforts, and as this person was our old friend Montalais, theking found himself completely hemmed in every time he paid Madame avisit; he was surrounded, and was never left a moment alone. Madamedisplayed in her conversation a charm of manner and brilliancy of witwhich eclipsed everything. Montalais followed her, and soon renderedherself perfectly insupportable to the king, which was, in fact, thevery thing she expected would happen. She then set Malicorne at theking, who found the means of informing his majesty that there was ayoung person belonging to the court who was exceedingly miserable; andon the king inquiring who this person was, Malicorne replied that it wasMademoiselle de Montalais. To this the king answered that it wasperfectly just that a person should be unhappy when she rendered othersso. Whereupon Malicorne explained how matters stood: for he had receivedhis directions from Montalais. The king began to open his eyes; heremarked that, as soon as he made his appearance, Madame made hers too;that she remained in the corridors until after he had left; that sheaccompanied him back to his own apartments, fearing that he might speakin the antechambers to one of her maids of honor. One evening she wentfurther still. The king was seated, surrounded by the ladies who werepresent, and holding in his hand, concealed by his lace ruffle, a smallnote which he wished to slip into La Valliere's hand. Madame guessedboth his intention and the letter too. It was very difficult to preventthe king going wherever he pleased, and yet it was necessary to preventhis going near La Valliere, to speak to her, as by so doing he could letthe note fall into her lap behind her fan, and into herpocket-handkerchief. The king, who was also on the watch, suspected thata snare was being laid for him. He rose and pushed his chair, withoutaffectation, near Mademoiselle de Chatillon, with whom he began to talkin a light tone. They were amusing themselves in making rhymes; fromMademoiselle de Chatillon he went to Montalais, and then to Mademoisellede Tonnay-Charente. And thus, by this skillful maneuver, he foundhimself seated opposite to La Valliere, whom he completely concealed.Madame pretended to be greatly occupied: she was altering a group offlowers that she was working in tapestry. The king showed the corner ofhis letter to La Valliere, and the latter held out her handkerchief witha look which signified, "Put the letter inside." Then, as the king hadplaced his own handkerchief upon his chair, he was adroit enough to letit fall on the ground, so that La Valliere slipped her handkerchief onthe chair. The king took it up quietly, without any one observing whathe did, placed the letter within it, and returned the handkerchief tothe place he had taken it from. There was only just time for La Valliereto sketch out her hand to take hold of the handkerchief with itsvaluable contents.
But Madame, who had observed everything that had passed, said toMademoiselle de Chatillon, "Chatillon, be good enough to pick up theking's handkerchief, if you please: it has fallen on the carpet."
The young girl obeyed with the utmost precipitation, the king havingmoved from his seat, and La Valliere being in no little degree nervousand confused.
"Ah! I beg your majesty's pardon," said Mademoiselle de Chatillon; "youhave two handkerchiefs, I perceive."
And the king was accordingly obliged to put into his pocket LaValliere's handkerchief as well as his own. He certainty gained thatsouvenir of Louise, who lost, however, a copy of verses which had costthe king ten hours' hard labor, and which, as far as he was concerned,was perhaps as good as a long poem. It would be impossible to describethe king's anger and La Valliere's despair; but shortly afterward acircumstance occurred which was more than remarkable. When the kingleft, in order to retire to his own apartments, Malicorne, informed ofwhat had passed, one can hardly tell how, was waiting in theantechamber. The antechambers of the Palais Royal are naturally verydark, and, in the evening, they were but indifferently lighted. Nothingpleased the king more than this dim light. As a general rule, Love,whose mind and heart are constantly in a blaze, dislikes light anywhereelse than in the mind and heart. And so the antechamber was dark; a pagecarried a torch before the king, who walked on slowly, greatly annoyedat what had recently occurred. Malicorne passed close to the king,almost stumbled against him in fact, and begged his forgiveness with theprofoundest humility; but the king, who was in an exceedinglyill-temper, was very sharp in his reproof to Malicorne, who disappearedas soon and as quietly as he possibly could. Louis retired to rest,having had a misunderstanding with the queen; and the next day, as soonas he entered the cabinet, he wished to have La Valliere's handkerchiefin order to press his lips to it. He called his valet.
"Fetch me," he said, "the coat I wore yesterday evening, but be verysure you do not touch anything it may contain."
The order being obeyed, the king himself searched the pocket of thecoat: he found only one handkerchief, and that his own; La Valliere'shad disappeared. While busied with all kinds of conjectures andsuspicions, a letter was brought to him from La Valliere; it ran inthese terms:
"How kind and good of you to have sent me those beautiful verses: how full of ingenuity and perseverance your affection is; how is it possible to help loving you so dearly!"
"What does this mean?" thought the king: "there must be some mistake.Look well about," he said to the valet, "for a pocket-handkerchief mustbe in one of my pockets: and if you do not find it, or if you havetouched it--" He reflected for a moment. To make a state matter of theloss of the handkerchief, would be to act too absurdly, and he thereforeadded, "There was a letter of some importance inside the handkerchiefwhich had somehow got among the folds of it."
"Sire," replied the valet, "your majesty had only one handkerchief, andthat is it."
"True, true," replied the king, setting his teeth hard together. "Oh,poverty, how I envy you! Happy is the man who can empty his own pocketsof letters and handkerchiefs!"
He read La Valliere's letter over again, endeavoring to imagine in whatconceivable way his verses could have reached their destination. Therewas a postscript to the letter:
"I send you back by your messenger this reply, so unworthy of what you sent me."
"So far so good; I shall find out something now," he said, delightedly."Who is waiting, and who brought me this letter?"
"M. Malicorne," replied the valet-de-chambre, timidly.
"Desire him to come in."
Malicorne entered.
"You come from Mademoiselle de la Valliere?" said the king, with a sigh.
"Yes, sire."
"And you took Mademoiselle de la Valliere something from me?"
"I, sire."
"Yes, you."
"Oh, no, sire."
"Mademoiselle de la Valliere says so distinctly."
"Oh, sire, Mademoiselle de la Valliere is mistaken."
The king frowned. "What jest is this?" he said; "explain yourself; whydoes Mademoiselle de la Valliere call you my messenger? What did youtake to that lady? Speak, monsieur, and quickly."
"Sire, I merely took Mademoiselle de la Valliere a pocket-handkerchief,that was all."
"A handkerchief--what handkerchief?"
"Sire, at the very moment when I had the misfortune to stumble againstyour majesty yesterday, a misfortune which I shall deplore to the lastday of my life, especially after the dissatisfaction which youexhibited, I remained, sire, motionless with despair, your majesty beingat too gre
at a distance to hear my excuses, when I saw something whitelying on the ground."
"Ah!" said the king.
"I stooped down--it was a pocket-handkerchief. For a moment I had anidea that when I stumbled against your majesty I must have been thecause of the handkerchief falling from your pocket; but as I felt it allover very respectfully, I perceived a cipher at one of the corners, and,on looking at it closely, I found it was Mademoiselle de la Valliere'scipher. I presumed that on her way to Madame's apartment in the earlierpart of the evening she had let her handkerchief fall, and I accordinglyhastened to restore it to her as she was leaving; and that is all I gaveto Mademoiselle de la Valliere, I entreat your majesty to believe."Malicorne's manner was so simple, so full of contrition, and marked withsuch extreme humility, that the king was greatly amused in listening tohim. He was as pleased with him for what he had done as if he hadrendered him the greatest service.
"This is the second fortunate meeting I have had with you, monsieur,"he said; "you may count upon my friendly feeling."
The plain and sober truth was, that Malicorne had picked the king'spocket of the handkerchief as dexterously as any of the pickpockets ofthe good city of Paris could have done. Madame never knew of this littleincident, but Montalais gave La Valliere some idea of the manner inwhich it had really happened, and La Valliere afterward told the king,who laughed exceedingly at it, and pronounced Malicorne to be afirst-rate politician. Louis XIV. was right, and it is well known thathe was tolerably acquainted with human nature.