Ten Years Later

  The introduction of these two new personages into this history and thatmysterious affinity of names and sentiments, merit some attention on thepart of both historian and reader. We will then enter into some detailsconcerning Messieurs Malicorne and Manicamp. Malicorne we know, had madethe journey to Orleans in search of the brevet destined for Mademoisellede Montalais, the arrival of which had produced such a strong feelingat the castle of Blois. At that moment, M. de Manicamp was at Orleans.A singular person was this M. de Manicamp; a very intelligent youngfellow, always poor, always needy, although he dipped his hand freelyinto the purse of M. le Comte de Guiche, one of the best furnishedpurses of the period. M. le Comte de Guiche had had, as the companionof his boyhood, this De Manicamp, a poor gentleman, vassal-born, of thehouse of Grammont. M. de Manicamp, with his tact and talent, had createdhimself a revenue in the opulent family of the celebrated marechal. Fromhis infancy he had, with calculation beyond his age, lent his nameand complaisance to the follies of the Comte de Guiche. If his noblecompanion had stolen some fruit destined for Madame la Marechale, if hehad broken a mirror, or put out a dog's eye, Manicamp declared himselfguilty of the crime committed, and received the punishment, which wasnot made the milder for falling on the innocent. But this was the waythis system of abnegation was paid for: instead of wearing such meanhabiliments as his paternal fortunes entitled him to, he was able toappear brilliant, superb, like a young noble of fifty thousand livres ayear. It was not that he was mean in character or humble in spirit; no,he was a philosopher, or rather he had the indifference, the apathy, theobstinacy which banish from man every sentiment of the supernatural. Hissole ambition was to spend money. But, in this respect, the worthy M. deManicamp was a gulf. Three or four times every year he drained the Comtede Guiche, and when the Comte de Guiche was thoroughly drained, when hehad turned out his pockets and his purse before him, when he declaredthat it would be at least a fortnight before paternal munificence wouldrefill those pockets and that purse, Manicamp lost all his energy, hewent to bed, remained there, ate nothing and sold his handsome clothes,under the pretense that, remaining in bed, he did not want them. Duringthis prostration of mind and strength, the purse of the Comte de Guichewas getting full again, and when once filled, overflowed into that of DeManicamp, who bought new clothes, dressed himself again, and recommencedthe same life he had followed before. The mania of selling his newclothes for a quarter of what they were worth had rendered our herosufficiently celebrated in Orleans, a city where, in general, we shouldbe puzzled to say why he came to pass his days of penitence. Provincialdebauches, petits-maitres of six hundred livres a year, shared thefragments of his opulence.

  Among the admirers of these splendid toilettes, our friend Malicornewas conspicuous; he was the son of a syndic of the city, of whom M.de Conde, always needy as a De Conde, often borrowed money at enormousinterest. M. Malicorne kept the paternal money-chest; that is tosay, that in those times of easy morals, he had made for himself, byfollowing the example of his father, and lending at high interest forshort terms, a revenue of eighteen hundred livres, without reckoningsix hundred livres furnished by the generosity of the syndic, so thatMalicorne was the king of the gay youth of Orleans, having two thousandfour hundred livres to scatter, squander, and waste on follies of everykind. But, quite contrary to Manicamp, Malicorne was terribly ambitious.He loved from ambition; he spent money out of ambition; and he wouldhave ruined himself for ambition. Malicorne had determined to rise, atwhatever price it might cost, and for this, at whatever price it didcost, he had given himself a mistress and a friend. The mistress,Mademoiselle de Montalais, was cruel as regarded love; but she was ofa noble family, and that was sufficient for Malicorne. The friend hadlittle or no friendship, but he was the favorite of the Comte deGuiche, himself the friend of Monsieur, the king's brother, and that wassufficient for Malicorne. Only, in the chapter of charges, Mademoisellede Montalais cost per annum:--ribbons, gloves, and sweets, a thousandlivres. De Manicamp cost--money lent, never returned--from twelve tofifteen hundred livres per annum. So that there was nothing left forMalicorne. Ah! yes, we are mistaken; there was left the paternal strongbox. He employed a mode of proceeding, upon which he preserved the mostprofound secrecy, and which consisted in advancing to himself from thecoffers of the syndic, half a dozen year's profits, that is to say,fifteen thousand livres, swearing to himself--observe, quite tohimself--to repay this deficiency as soon as an opportunity shouldpresent itself.

  The opportunity was expected to be the concession of a good post in thehousehold of Monsieur, when that household would be established at theperiod of his marriage. This juncture had arrived, and the household wasabout to be established. A good post in the family of a prince of theblood, when it is given by the credit, and on the recommendation ofa friend, like the Comte de Guiche, is worth at least twelve thousandlivres per annum; and by the means which M. Malicorne had taken tomake his revenues fructify, twelve thousand livres might rise to twentythousand. Then, when once an incumbent of this post, he would marryMademoiselle de Montalais. Mademoiselle de Montalais, of a half noblefamily, not only would be dowered, but would ennoble Malicorne. But, inorder that Mademoiselle de Montalais, who had not a large patrimonialfortune, although an only daughter, should be suitably dowered, it wasnecessary that she should belong to some great princess, as prodigal asthe dowager Madame was covetous. And in order that the wife should notbe of one party whilst the husband belonged to the other, a situationwhich presents serious inconveniences, particularly with characters likethose of the future consorts--Malicorne had imagined the idea ofmaking the central point of union the household of Monsieur, the king'sbrother. Mademoiselle de Montalais would be maid of honor to Madame. M.Malicorne would be officer to Monsieur.

  It is plain the plan was formed by a clear head; it is plain, also,that it had been bravely executed. Malicorne had asked Manicamp to ask abrevet of maid of honor of the Comte de Guiche; and the Comte de Guichehad asked this brevet of Monsieur, who had signed it without hesitation.The constructive plan of Malicorne--for we may well suppose thatthe combinations of a mind as active as his were not confined to thepresent, but extended to the future--the constructive plan of Malicorne,we say, was this:--To obtain entrance into the household of MadameHenrietta for a woman devoted to himself, who was intelligent, young,handsome, and intriguing; to learn, by means of this woman, all thefeminine secrets of the young household, whilst he, Malicorne, and hisfriend Manicamp, should, between them, know all the male secrets of theyoung community. It was by these means that a rapid and splendid fortunemight be acquired at one and the same time. Malicorne was a vile name;he who bore it had too much wit to conceal this truth from himself; butan estate might be purchased; and Malicorne of some place, or even DeMalicorne itself, for short, would ring more nobly on the ear.

  It was not improbable that a most aristocratic origin might be hunted upby the heralds for this name of Malicorne; might it not come from someestate where a bull with mortal horns had caused some great misfortune,and baptized the soil with the blood it had spilt? Certes, this planpresented itself bristling with difficulties: but the greatest of allwas Mademoiselle de Montalais herself. Capricious, variable, close,giddy, free, prudish, a virgin armed with claws, Erigone stained withgrapes, she sometimes overturned, with a single dash of her whitefingers, or with a single puff from her laughing lips, the edifice whichhad exhausted Malicorne's patience for a month.

  Love apart, Malicorne was happy; but this love, which he could not helpfeeling, he had the strength to conceal with care; persuaded that at thelest relaxing of the ties by which he had bound his Protean female, thedemon would overthrow him and laugh at him. He humbled his mistress bydisdaining her. Burning with desire, when she advanced to tempt him,he had the art to appear ice, persuaded that if he opened his arms, shewould run away laughing at him. On her side, Montalais believed shedid not love Malicorne; whilst, on the contrary, in reality she did.Malicorne repeated to her so often his protestation of indifference,that she finishe
d sometimes, by believing him; and then she believedshe detested Malicorne. If she tried to bring him back by coquetry,Malicorne played the coquette better than she could. But what madeMontalais hold to Malicorne in an indissoluble fashion, was thatMalicorne always came cram full of fresh news from the court and thecity; Malicorne always brought to Blois a fashion, a secret, or aperfume; that Malicorne never asked for a meeting, but, on the contrary,required to be supplicated to receive the favors he burned to obtain.On her side Montalais was no miser with stories. By her means Malicornelearnt all that passed at Blois, in the family of the dowager Madame;and he related to Manicamp tales that made him ready to die withlaughing, which the latter, out of idleness, took ready-made to M. deGuiche, who carried them to Monsieur.

  Such, in two words, was the woof of petty interests and pettyconspiracies which united Blois with Orleans and Orleans with Paris;and which was about to bring into the last named city, where she was toproduce so great a revolution, the poor little La Valliere, who was farfrom suspecting, as she returned joyfully, leaning on the arm of hermother, for what a strange future she was reserved. As to the goodman, Malicorne--we speak of the syndic of Orleans--he did not see moreclearly into the present than others did into the future; and had nosuspicion as he walked, every day, between three and five o'clock, afterhis dinner, upon the Place Sainte-Catherine, in his gray coat, cutafter the fashion of Louis XIII. and his cloth shoes with great knots ofribbon, that it was he who was paying for all those bursts of laughter,all those stolen kisses, all those whisperings, all those littlekeepsakes, and all those bubble projects which formed a chainof forty-five leagues in length, from the palais of Blois to thePalais-Royal.

  CHAPTER 80. Manicamp and Malicorne