Chicot the Jester

  CHAPTER LXXVIII.

  THE PRECAUTIONS OF M. DE MONSOREAU.

  St. Luc was right, and Jeanne was right, and Bussy soon acknowledgedit. As for Diana, she gave herself up to the two instincts thatFigaro recognizes as inborn in mankind, to love and to deceive.M. de Monsoreau grew better and better. He had escaped from fever,thanks to the application of cold water, that new remedy whichProvidence had discovered to Ambrose Pare, when all at once hereceived a great shock at hearing of the arrival in Paris ofthe duke with the queen-mother. The day after his arrival, theduke, under the pretext of asking after him, presented himselfat his hotel, and it was impossible to close his door againsta prince who showed so much interest in him. M. de Monsoreautherefore was obliged to receive the prince, who was most amiableto him and to his wife. As soon as he was gone, M. de Monsoreautook Diana's arm, and in spite of Remy's remonstrances walkedthree times round his armchair; and, from his satisfied air,Diana was sure he was meditating on some project.

  The next day the duke came again, and this time Monsoreau walkedround his room. That evening Diana warned Bussy that her husbandhad certainly some project in his head. A few minutes after, whenBussy and Monsoreau were alone, "When I think," said Monsoreau,"that this prince, who smiles on me, is my mortal enemy, andtried to have me assassinated by M. de St. Luc----"

  "Oh, assassinated! take care, M. le Comte. St. Luc is a gentleman,and you confess yourself that you provoked him, drew the swordfirst, and received your wound in fair fight."

  "Certainly; but it is not the less true that he obeyed the wishesof M. d'Anjou."

  "Listen! I know M. de St. Luc, and I can assure you he is devotedto the king, and hates the duke. If your wound had come fromAntragues, Livarot, or Ribeirac, it might be so; but not fromSt. Luc."

  "You do not know," replied Monsoreau, obstinate in his opinion.At last he was able to go down into the garden. "That will do,"said he; "now we will move."

  "Why move?" said Remy. "The air is good here, and there is plentyof amusement."

  "Too much; M. d'Anjou fatigues me with his visits, and he alwaysbrings with him a crowd of gentlemen, and the noise of theirspurs destroys my nerves."

  "But where are you going?"

  "I have ordered them to get ready my little house at the Tournelles."

  Bussy and Diana exchanged a look of loving remembrance.

  "What, that little place?" cried Remy, imprudently.

  "What! do you know it?"

  "Who does not know the houses of the chief huntsman? particularlyI, who lived in the Rue Beautrellis."

  "Yes, yes, I will go there. It is a fortress, and one can seefrom the window, three hundred yards off, who is coming to visityou, and avoid them if you like, particularly when you are well!"

  Bussy bit his lips; he feared a time might come when Monsoreaumight avoid him. Diana thought of the time when she had seenBussy in that house, lying fainting on the bed.

  "You cannot do it," said Remy.

  "Why not, if you please, monsieur?"

  "Because the chief huntsman of France must hold receptions--mustkeep valets and equipages. Let him have a palace for his dogs,if he likes, but not a dog-kennel for himself."

  "It is true, but----"

  "But I am the doctor of the mind as of the body; it is not yourresidence here that displeases you."

  "What then?"

  "That of madame; therefore send her away."

  "Separate?" cried Monsoreau, fixing on Diana a look, more of angerthan love.

  "Then give up your place--send in your resignation. I believeit would be wise; if you do not do your duty, you will displeasethe king, and if you do----"

  "I will do anything but quit the countess," said Monsoreau, withclosely-shut teeth. As he spoke, they heard in the courtyard anoise of voices and horses' feet.

  "The duke again!" cried he.

  "Yes," said Remy.

  Immediately after the prince entered, and Monsoreau saw his firstglance given to Diana. He brought to her, as a present, one ofthose masterpieces, of which the artists of that day were in thehabit of producing two or three in the course of a lifetime. Itwas a poniard, with a handle of chased gold. This handle was asmelling-bottle, and on the blade a chase was carved with admirableskill; horses, dogs, trees, game, and hunters, mingled togetherin an harmonious pele-mele, on this blade of azure and gold.

  "Let me see," cried Monsoreau, who feared there was a note hiddenin the handle.

  The prince separated the two parts. "To you, who are a hunter," saidhe, "I give the blade: to the countess, the handle. Good-morning,Bussy, you are then a friend of the count's, now?"

  Diana reddened, but Bussy said:

  "Your highness forgets that you asked me to inquire after M. deMonsoreau."

  "It is true."

  The prince sat down, and began to talk to Diana. In a few minuteshe said, "Count, it is dreadfully warm in your rooms. I see thecountess is stifling. I will give her my arm for a turn in thegarden."

  The husband looked furious.

  "Give me an arm," said he to Bussy, and he got up and followedhis wife.

  "Ah!" said the duke, "it seems you are better."

  "Yes, monseigneur, and I hope soon to be able to accompany Madamede Monsoreau wherever she goes."

  "Good; but meanwhile, do not fatigue yourself."

  Monsoreau was obliged to sit down, but he kept them in view.

  "Count," said he to Bussy, "will you be amiable enough to escortMadame de Monsoreau this evening to my house at the Tournelles?"

  "You cannot do that, monsieur," said Remy.

  "Why not?"

  "Because M. d'Anjou would never forgive you if you helped to playhim such a trick."

  Bussy was about to cry, "What do I care?" but a glance from Remystopped him.

  "Remy is right," said Monsoreau, "it would injure you; to-morrowI will go myself."

  "You will lose your place."

  "It is possible; but I shall keep my wife."

  The next day they went to the old house; Diana took her old room,with the bed of white and gold damask. A corridor only separatedit from that of the count. Bussy tore his hair with rage.