The Vicomte de Bragelonne

  CHAPTER XLII.

  THE APPARITION.

  La Valliere very soon recovered from her surprise, for, owing to hisrespectful bearing, the king inspired her with more confidence by hispresence than his sudden appearance had deprived her of. But, as henoticed that that which made La Valliere most uneasy was the means bywhich he had effected an entrance into her room, he explained to her thesystem of the staircase concealed by the screen, and strongly disavowedthe notion of his being a supernatural appearance.

  "Oh, sire!" said La Valliere, shaking her fair head with a most engagingsmile, "present or absent, you do not appear to my mind more at one timethan at another."

  "Which means, Louise--"

  "Oh, what you know so well, sire; that there is not one moment in whichthe poor girl whose secret you surprised at Fontainebleau, and whom youcame to snatch from the foot of the cross itself, does not think ofyou."

  "Louise, you overwhelm me with joy and happiness."

  La Valliere smiled mournfully, and continued: "But, sire, have youreflected that your ingenious invention could not be of the slightestservice to us?"

  "Why so? Tell me--I am waiting most anxiously?"

  "Because this room may be subject to being searched at any moment of theday. Madame herself may, at any time, come here accidentally; mycompanions run in at any moment they please. To fasten the door on theinside is to denounce myself as plainly as if I had written above, 'Noadmittance--the king is here.' Even now, sire, at this very moment,there is nothing to prevent the door opening, and your majesty beingseen here."

  "In that case," said the king, laughingly, "I should indeed be taken fora phantom, for no one can tell in what way I came here. Besides, it isonly phantoms who can pass through brick walls, or floors and ceilings."

  "Oh, sire, reflect for a moment how terrible the scandal would be!Nothing equal to it could ever have been previously said about the maidsof honor, poor creatures! whom evil report, however, hardly everspares."

  "And your conclusion from all this, my dear Louise--come, explainyourself."

  "Alas! it is a hard thing to say--but your majesty must suppressstaircase plots, surprises and all; for the evil consequences whichwould result from your being found here would be far greater than thehappiness of seeing each other."

  "Well, Louise," replied the king, tenderly, "instead of removing thisstaircase by which I have ascended, there is a far more simple means, ofwhich you have not thought."

  "A means--another means?"

  "Yes, another. Oh, you do not love me as I love you, Louise, since myinvention is quicker than yours."

  She looked at the king, who held out his hand to her, which she took andgently pressed between her own.

  "You were saying," continued the king, "that I shall be detected cominghere, where any one who pleases can enter."

  "Stay, sire; at this very moment, even while you are speaking about it,I tremble with dread of your being discovered."

  "But you would not be found out, Louise, if you were to descend thestaircase which leads to the room underneath."

  "Oh, sire! what do you say?" cried Louise, in alarm.

  "You do not quite understand me, Louise, since you get offended at myvery first word; first of all, do you know to whom the apartmentsunderneath belong?"

  "To M. de Guiche, sire, I know."

  "Not at all; they are M. de Saint-Aignan's."

  "Are you sure?" cried La Valliere; and this exclamation which escapedfrom the young girl's joyous heart made the king's heart throb withdelight.

  "Yes, to Saint-Aignan, our friend," he said.

  "But, sire," returned La Valliere, "I cannot visit M. deSaint-Aignan's rooms any more than I could M. de Guiche's.It is impossible--impossible."

  "And yet, Louise, I should have thought that under the safeguard of theking you could venture anything."

  "Under the safeguard of the king," she said, with a look full oftenderness.

  "You have faith in my word, I hope, Louise."

  "Yes, sire, when you are not present; but when you are present--when youspeak to me--when I look upon you, I have faith in nothing."

  "What can possibly be done to reassure you?"

  "It is scarcely respectful, I know, to doubt the king, but you are notthe king for me."

  "Thank Heaven!--I, at least, hope so most fervently; you see howanxiously I am trying to find or invent a means of removing alldifficulty. Stay; would the presence of a third person reassure you?"

  "The presence of M. de Saint-Aignan would, certainly."

  "Really, Louise, you wound me by your suspicions."

  Louise did not answer, she merely looked steadfastly at him with thatclear, piercing gaze which penetrates the very heart, and said softly toherself, "Alas! alas! it is not you of whom I am afraid--it is not youupon whom my doubts would fall."

  "Well," said the king, sighing, "I agree; and M. de Saint-Aignan, whoenjoys the inestimable privilege of reassuring you, shall always bepresent at our conversations, I promise you."

  "You promise that, sire?"

  "Upon my honor as a gentleman; and you, on your side--"

  "Oh, wait, sire, that is not all yet; for such conversations ought, atleast, to have a reasonable motive of some kind for M. de Saint-Aignan."

  "Dear Louise, every shade of delicacy of feeling is yours, and my onlywish is to equal you on that point. It shall be just as you wish;therefore our conversations shall have a reasonable motive, and I havealready hit upon one; so that from to-morrow, if you like--"

  "To-morrow?"

  "Do you mean that that is not soon enough?" exclaimed the king,caressing La Valliere's hand between his own.

  At this moment the sound of steps was heard in the corridor.

  "Sire, sire!" cried La Valliere, "some one is coming; do you hear? Oh,fly! fly! I implore you."

  The king made but one bound from the chair where he was sitting to hishiding-place behind the screen. He had barely time; for as he drew oneof the folds before him, the handle of the door was turned, andMontalais appeared at the threshold. As a matter of course, she enteredquite naturally, and without any ceremony, for she knew perfectly wellthat to knock at the door beforehand would be showing a suspicion towardLa Valliere which would be displeasing to her. She accordingly entered,and after a rapid glance round the room, whereby she observed two chairsvery close to each other, she was so long in shutting the door, whichseemed to be difficult to close, one can hardly tell how or why, thatthe king had ample time to raise the trap-door, and to descend again toSaint-Aignan's room.

  "Louise," she said to her, "I want to talk to you, and seriously, too."

  "Good heavens! my dear Aure, what is the matter now?"

  "The matter is that Madame suspects everything."

  "Explain yourself."

  "Is there any occasion for us to enter into explanations, and do you notunderstand what I mean? Come, you must have noticed the fluctuations inMadame's humor during several days past; you must have noticed how shefirst kept you close beside her, then dismissed you, and then sent foryou again."

  "Yes, I have noticed it, of course."

  "Well, it seems that Madame has now succeeded in obtaining sufficientinformation, for she has now gone straight to the point, as there isnothing further left in France to withstand the torrent which sweepsaway all obstacles before it; you know what I mean by the torrent?"

  La Valliere hid her face in her hands.

  "I mean," continued Montalais, pitilessly, "that torrent which has burstthrough the gates of the Carmelites of Chaillot, and overthrown all theprejudices of the court, as well at Fontainebleau as at Paris."

  "Alas! alas!" murmured La Valliere, her face still covered by her hands,and her tears streaming through her fingers.

  "Oh, don't distress yourself in that manner, for you have only heardhalf of your troubles."

  "In Heaven's name," exclaimed the young girl, in great anxiety, "what isthe matter?"

  "Well, then, this is how the matter stands;
Madame, who can no longerrely upon any further assistance in France; for she has, one after theother, made use of the two queens, of Monsieur, and the whole court too,now bethinks herself of a certain person who has certain pretendedrights over you."

  La Valliere became white as a marble statue.

  "This person," continued Montalais, "is not in Paris at this moment;but, if I am not mistaken, is in England."

  "Yes, yes," breathed La Valliere, almost overwhelmed with terror.

  "And is to be found, I think, at the court of Charles II.; am I right?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, this evening a letter has been dispatched by Madame to SaintJames's, with directions for the courier to go straight on to HamptonCourt, which, I believe, is one of the royal residences, situated abouta dozen miles from London."

  "Yes; well?"

  "Well: as Madame writes regularly to London once a fortnight, and as theordinary courier left for London not more than three days ago, I havebeen thinking that some serious circumstance could alone have inducedher to write again so soon, for you know she is a very indolentcorrespondent."

  "Yes."

  "This letter has been written, therefore, something tells me so, atleast, on your account."

  "On my account?" repeated the unhappy girl, mechanically.

  "And I, who saw the letter lying on Madame's desk before she sealed it,fancied I could read--"

  "What did you fancy you could read?"

  "I might possibly have been mistaken, though--"

  "Tell me--what was it?"

  "The name of Bragelonne."

  La Valliere rose hurriedly from her chair, a prey to the most painfulagitation.

  "Montalais," she said, her voice broken by sobs, "all the smiling dreamsof youth and innocence have fled already. I have nothing now to conceal,either from you or from any one else. My life is exposed to everyone'sinspection, and can be opened like a book, in which all the world canread, from the king himself to the first passer-by. Aure, dearest Aure,what can I do--what will become of me?"

  Montalais approached close to her, and said:

  "Consult your own heart, of course."

  "Well; I do not love M. de Bragelonne; when I say I do not love him,understand that I love him as the most affectionate sister could lovethe best of brothers, but that is not what he requires, nor what I havepromised him."

  "In fact, you love the king," said Montalais, "and that is asufficiently good excuse."

  "Yes, I do love the king," hoarsely murmured the young girl, "and I havepaid dearly enough to pronounce those words. And now, Montalais, tellme--what can you do, either for me, or against me, in my presentposition?"

  "You must speak more clearly still."

  "What am I to say, then?"

  "And so you have nothing very particular to tell me?"

  "No!" said Louise, in astonishment.

  "Very good; and so all you have to ask me is my advice respecting M.Raoul?"

  "Nothing else."

  "It is a very delicate subject," replied Montalais.

  "No, it is nothing of the kind. Ought I to marry him in order to keepthe promise I made, or ought I to continue to listen to the king?"

  "You have really placed me in a very difficult position," saidMontalais, smiling; "you ask me if you ought to marry Raoul, whosefriend I am, and whom I shall mortally offend in giving my opinionagainst him; and then, you ask me if you should cease to listen to theking, whose subject I am, and whom I should also offend if I were toadvise you in a particular way. Ah! Louise, you seem to hold a difficultposition at a very cheap rate."

  "You have not understood me, Aure," said La Valliere, wounded by theslightly mocking tone of her companion; "if I were to marry M. deBragelonne, I should be far from bestowing on him the happiness hedeserves; but, for the same reason, if I listen to the king he wouldbecome the possessor of one indifferently good in very many respects Iadmit, but one on whom his affection confers an appearance of value.What, I ask you, then, is to tell me some means of disengaging myselfhonorably either from the one or from the other; or rather, I ask you,from which side you think I can free myself most honorably."

  "My dear Louise," replied Montalais, after a pause, "I am not one ofthose seven wise men of Greece, and I have no perfectly invariable rulesof conduct to govern me; but, on the other hand, I have a littleexperience, and I can assure you that no woman ever asks for advice ofthe nature which you have just asked me, without being in a terriblestate of embarrassment. Besides, you have made a solemn promise, whichevery principle of honor would require you to fulfill;--if, therefore,you are embarrassed, in consequence of having undertaken such anengagement, it is not a stranger's advice (every one is a stranger to aheart full of love), it is not my advice, I repeat, which will extricateyou from your embarrassment. I shall not give it you, therefore; and fora greater reason still--because, were I in your place, I should feelmuch more embarrassed after the advice than before it. All I can do is,to repeat what I have already told you: shall I assist you?"

  "Yes, yes."

  "Very well; that is all. Tell me in what way you wish me to help you;tell me for and against whom--in this way we shall not make anyblunders."

  "But first of all," said La Valliere, pressing her companion's hand,"for whom or against whom do you decide?"

  "For you, if you are really and truly my friend."

  "Are you not Madame's confidante?"

  "A greater reason for being of service to you; if I were not to knowwhat is going on in that direction, I should not be able to be of anyservice at all, and consequently you would not obtain any advantage frommy acquaintance. Friendships live and thrive upon a system of reciprocalbenefit."

  "The result is, then, that you will remain at the same time Madame'sfriend also?"

  "Evidently. Do you complain of that?"

  "No," said La Valliere, thoughtfully, for that cynical franknessappeared to her an offense addressed both to the woman as well as to thefriend.

  "All well and good, then," said Montalais, "for, in that case, you wouldbe very foolish."

  "You will serve me, then?"

  "Devotedly so, if you will serve me in return."

  "One would almost say that you do not know my heart," said La Valliere,looking at Montalais with her eyes wide open.

  "Why, the fact is, that since we have belonged to the court, my dearLouise, we are very much changed."

  "In what way?"

  "It is very simple. Were you the second queen of France yonder, atBlois?"

  La Valliere hung down her head, and began to weep. Montalais looked ather in an indefinable manner, and murmured, "Poor girl!" and thenadding, "Poor king!" she kissed Louise on the forehead, and returned toher apartment, where Malicorne was waiting for her.