CHAPTER XII.
HOW BUSSY FOUND BOTH THE PORTRAIT AND THE ORIGINAL.
The chase terminated about four o'clock in the evening, and atfive all the court returned to Paris. As they passed by the Bastile,the duke said to Bussy, "Look to the right, at that little woodenhouse with a statue of the Virgin before it; well, count fourhouses from that. It is the fifth you have to go to, just frontingthe Rue St. Catherine."
"I see it; and look! at the sound of the trumpets announcing theking, all the windows are filled with gazers."
"Except the one I show you, where the curtains remain closed."
"But there is a corner lifted," said Bussy, with a beating heart.
"Yes, but we can see nothing. The lady is well guarded. However,that is the house."
When Bussy returned, he said to Remy, "Have you discovered thehouse?"
"No, monseigneur."
"Well, I believe I have been more lucky."
"How so, monsieur, have you been seeking?"
"I passed through the street."
"And you recognized the house?"
"Providence, my dear friend, has mysterious ways."
"Then you are sure?"
"Not sure, but I hope."
"And when shall I know if you are right?"
"To-morrow morning."
"Meanwhile, do you want me?"
"No, my dear Remy."
"Shall I not follow you?"
"Impossible."
"Be prudent, monseigneur."
"Ah! the recommendation is useless, my prudence is well known."
Bussy dined like a man who does not know when he will sup, then,at eight o'clock, choosing the best of his swords, and attaching,in spite of the king's orders, a pair of pistols to his belt,went in his litter to the corner of the Rue St. Paul.
He easily recognized the house again, and then, wrapped in hiscloak, hid at the corner of the street, determined to wait fortwo hours, and at the end of that time, if no one came, to actfor himself. He had scarcely been there ten minutes, when hesaw two cavaliers coming. One of them dismounted, gave his horseto the other, who was probably a lackey, and who went away withthe horses, and advanced towards the house pointed out to Bussy,and, after glancing round to see if he were observed, openedthe door and went in. Bussy waited two or three minutes, andthen followed him. He advanced slowly and softly, found thestaircase, and went up. In the corridor he stopped, for he hearda voice say, "Gertrude, tell your mistress that it is I, andthat I must come in."
This was said in an imperious tone, and, a minute after, Bussyheard a woman's voice say:
"Pass into the drawing-room, Monsieur, and madame will come toyou."
Then he heard the sound of a door shutting. He made a few stepssilently, and extending his hand, felt a door; he went in, founda second in which was a key; he turned it, and entered the roomtremblingly. The room in which he found himself was dark, exceptfrom the light shining from another. By this he could see twowindows, hung with tapestry, which sent a thrill of joy throughthe young man's heart. On the ceiling he could faintly see themythological figures; he extended his hand, and felt the sculpturedbed. There was no more doubt, he was in the room where he hadawakened the night of his wound.
Bussy hid behind the bed-curtains to listen. He heard in theadjoining room the impatient step of the unknown; from time totime he stopped, murmuring between his teeth, "Will she come?"
Presently a door opened, and the rustling of a silk dress struckon Bussy's ear. Then he heard a woman's voice, expressive atonce of fear and disdain, saying:
"Here I am, monsieur, what do you want now?"
"Madame," replied the man, "I have the honor of telling you that,forced to set off to-morrow morning for Fontainebleau, I cometo pass the night with you."
"Do you bring me news of my father?"
"Madame, listen to me----"
"Monsieur, you know what we agreed yesterday, when I consentedto become your wife, that, before all things, either my fathershould come to Paris, or I should go to him."
"Madame, as soon as I return from Fontainebleau, I give you myword of honor, but meanwhile----"
"Oh! monsieur, do not close the door, it is useless; I will notpass a single night under the same roof with you until you bringme my father." And the lady, who spoke, thus, whistled through asilver whistle, which was then the manner of calling servants.
Immediately the door opened, and a young, vigorous-looking girlentered. As she went in, she left the door open, which threwa strong light into the room where Bussy was hid, and betweenthe two windows he saw the portrait. Bussy now crept noiselesslyalong to where he could peep into the room. However carefully hemoved, the floor creaked. At the noise the lady turned, she wasthe original of the portrait. The man, seeing her turn, turnedalso; it was M. de Monsoreau.
"Ah!" thought Bussy, "the white horse, the woman carried away,there is some terrible history."
Bussy, as we have said, could see them both; she, standing up,pale and disdainful. He, not pale, but livid, agitated his footimpatiently.
"Madame," said he, at last, "do not hope to continue with methis character of a persecuted woman; you are at Paris, in myhouse, and, still more, you are Comtesse de Monsoreau, that isto say, my Wife.
"If I am your wife, why refuse to conduct me to my father? Whycontinue to hide me from the eyes of the world?"
"You have forgotten the Duc d'Anjou, madame."
"You assured me that, once your wife, I should have no more tofear from him."
"That is to say----"
"You promised me that."
"But still, madame, I must take precautions."
"Well, monsieur, when you have taken them, return to me."
"Diana," said the count, who was growing visibly angry, "Diana,do not make a jest of this sacred tie."
"Act so, monsieur, that I can have confidence in the husband,and I will respect the marriage."
"Oh! this is too much!" cried the count. "I am in my own house,you are my wife, and this night you shall be mine."
Bussy put his hand on his sword-hilt, and made a step forward,but Diana did not give him time to appear.
"Stay," said she, drawing a poignard from her belt, "here ismy answer." And rushing into the room where Bussy was, she shutthe door and locked it, while Monsoreau exhausted himself inmenaces and in blows on the door.
"If you break this door you will find me dead on the threshold."
"And be easy, madame, you shall be revenged," said Bussy.
Diana was about to utter a cry, but her fear of her husband wasstrong enough to restrain her. She remained pale and trembling,but mute.
M. de Monsoreau struck violently with his foot, but convincedthat Diana would execute her menace, went out of the drawing-room,shutting the door violently behind him. Then they heard him goingdown the stairs.
"But you, monsieur," said Diana, turning to Bussy, "who are you,and how came you here?"
"Madame," said Bussy, opening the door, and kneeling before her,"I am the man whose life you preserved. You cannot think that Icome to your house with any bad designs." As the light streamedin, Diana recognized him at once.
"Ah! you here, monsieur," cried she, clasping her hands, "youwere here--you heard all?"
"Alas! yes, madame."
"But who are you? your name, monsieur?"
"Madame, I am Louis de Clermont, Comte de Bussy."
"Bussy! you are the brave Bussy!" cried Diana, filling with joythe heart of the young man. "Ah! Gertrude!" cried she, turningto her servant, who, hearing her mistress talking to some one,had entered in terror, "Gertrude, I have no more to fear, forfrom this time I place myself under the safeguard of the mostnoble and loyal gentleman in France." Then holding out her handto Bussy.
"Rise, monsieur," said she, "I know who you are, now you mustknow who I am."