CHAPTER XXIX
LA VALENTINOIS AND I
Monsieur de Crequy, his back to the light, stood in the embrasure of awindow, deeply engaged in examining his features in a small hand-glasswhich he held daintily before him. The survey seemed to pleasemonsieur, for he showed his teeth in a simper of satisfaction, andbegan to curl his black moustache between the forefinger and thumb ofhis disengaged hand. So engrossed was he that he never observed mecoming up to him, and it was not until I was at his elbow that hesuddenly realised my presence.
"_Morbleu_!" and he hastily slipped the glass in his pocket, "whereverdid you spring from?"
"Not through the window, I assure you. I but came in the ordinary way.Madame, I suppose, is within?" And I pointed to a closed door in frontof us.
Crequy nodded. "Yes; reposing after the fatigues of the day, and willhave none but a Chevalier of the Order to guard the entrance to herbower. What a day it has been! I suppose you know it will be onSaturday?"
I could have struck the coxcomb; but held myself in, and asked to seeLa Valentinois, adding that my affair was of vital import. At thisCrequy began to hum and haw, and I had to humour him, telling him thatmadame would give him but small thanks for denying me, as my businessconcerned what was to happen on Saturday.
"That is a different matter," he said. "I will see." And he tapped atthe door. There was no answer; thereupon Crequy gently opened the doorand stepped in. He came out again almost immediately.
"As I said, madame is reposing; but I have told the Syrian. Would youlike to wait here?"
"Perhaps I had better get my business over as soon as possible, andsave the Syrian the trouble of coming to the outer door," I said. Atwhich Crequy shrugged his shoulders, and pointing to the door with amock bow bade me enter.
I did as I was bidden, and found myself in a long and narrow room. Theceiling, painted to represent the sky lit up by the crescent moon, wassupported by eight arabesque pillars, four on either hand. Around thebases of the pillars, and scattered here and there over the richcarpet, were seats made of huge soft cushions, covered with matchlessembroidery. Near one of these luxurious seats was a low carved tableupon which lay an open volume of Ronsard's poems, and close by it,thrown carelessly on the carpet, was a lute with a cluster of streamingribbons, and a black and white satin sling attached to it. Behind thisstood a carved ebony _prie-dieu_, and above the crucifix thatsurmounted it hung a shield surrounded by a wreath of flowers, andbearing upon it a tree springing out of a tomb, with the legend: "Leftalone--I live in thee," upon a scroll beneath. This was the strangemanner in which Diane de Poitiers kept the memory of her dead husbandgreen--for she ever posed as the inconsolable widow, carrying herhusband's soul about with her, packed in straw, like her Venetiancrystal goblets and eastern pottery. In the centre of the room, upon aveined marble pedestal, stood, in strange incongruity, a replica of thegreat bronze of Goujou, that faced her chateau of Anet. In this Dianewas represented nude, reclining upon a stag, a bow in her hand, andsurrounded by dogs.
Owing to the heat of the day the windows were open; but the curtains ofpale blue silk, with silver crescents gleaming on them, were drawn tokeep out the afternoon glare; and the subdued, opal-tinted light fellsoftly on this bower of luxury, which was, however, likely to prove theden of a tigress to me.
The room was empty when I entered, and after looking around me I pickedup the volume of Ronsard. It was open at his ode to La Valentinois:
"Seray-je seul, vivant en France de vostre age, Sans chanter vostre nom, si criant et si puissant? Diray-je point l'honneur de vostre beau croissant? Feray-je point pour vous quelque immortel ouvrage?"
So far I read, and then flung the book with its fulsome verses down onthe cushions. As I did this, I heard a little burst of laughter,followed by the harsh, chuckling scream of a parrot, and then a voice:
"Here! Vert-Vert! Here! To my shoulder!"
I stepped back behind a pillar, the curtains covering a door leadinginto an inner apartment were set aside, and La Valentinois entered,bearing on her left shoulder a large green parrot, whose plumage shecaressed with her right hand. She was clad in a loose robe of somesoft, clinging material that shimmered like cloth of gold. It wasfastened at her throat by a jewelled star, and a golden zone claspedher waist. Her abundant hair hung loose in black, curling masses, andher little feet were thrust into gemmed and embroidered slippers.Madame had apparently come forth in some haste I could see.
"Orrain," she said, her face half turned from me, for she was lookingat her bird, "whatever brings you here? Is it anything from SireGrosse-Tete?" And then an exclamation broke from her, and she stoppedshort, for she saw me.
"You!" she said. "I thought it was the Vidame d'Orrain."
"A mistake, madame, in announcing me, perhaps, which I regard as themost fortunate in my life." And I bowed before her.
So bad, so worthless was this woman, that she utterly mistook my speech.
"True! Leila said Monsieur d'Orrain--but I thought it was yourbrother."
I made no answer, and she glanced at me, the colour rising to hercheeks, and a smile on her lips, as she went on:
"'Tis a thousand pities, Monsieur le Chevalier, that you have taken thewrong side; and by rights I should strike that gong there and call myguards, for you are dangerous, they say; but," and she sanklanguorously down in the cushions, her pet now on her wrist, "'tis awarm day, and I feel bored. Do I not, Vert-Vert? Perhaps monsieurhere will amuse me." And she stroked the feathers of the bird, andbending down kissed it.
"Madame," I began; but she glanced up, and stayed me with a laugh.
"What a voice! As severe as my dear De Mouchy's when he delivers ajudgment; but, Chevalier, Leila, my Syrian maid, always tells me 'tiseasier to sit than to stand, and there is room on thesecushions--come!" And stretching out a shapely white arm she let itrest on the amber-hued silk of the cushions by her side.
As I gazed on the temptress lying at my feet the thought came to me toslay her in her sin; and perhaps she saw the sombre light in my eyes,and read my heart, for she drew her arm back swiftly, and half rose;but mastering myself I gave her her chance.
"Madame, I have come to beg your mercy----"
"You!" And she sank back again on her cushions.
"Yes, madame! I have come to ask for a life."
"Not yours, surely? It never was Orrain's way." And she smiled.
"Ay; it is my life ten times over, as well as another's; but you knowwhom I mean, madame! She is innocent, and a word from you will saveher."
"Oh, monsieur, you overrate my power! And this is not amusing. It istoo hot to talk of such things."
"Madame, be merciful! Spare her! She never harmed you."
"What!" And tossing the bird from her she rose to her feet, lithe as apantheress. So perfectly was she formed that one did not realise howtall she was until she came near; and she was close enough to me now,her eyes flashing with a hundred evil, angry lights.
"She never harmed me? Never hurt me? She! That white-facedprovincial, with her airs of virtue, who tried to shame me in public!Look you, I hate that woman! Do you hear? I hate her--hate her! Ifby the lifting of my little finger I could save her, do you think Iwould? Never! Let her die! And she shall die, as Philippine de Lunedid----"
"Madame!"
"And you!" she burst in, "insolent that you are!--you! who have daredto come here! Think you that you will go free?"
"Enough, madame! I no longer appeal to your pity."
She had half turned from me, and made a step towards the gong as if tostrike it, but faced back like lightning, womanlike determined to havethe last word.
"_Mon Dieu_! but this surpasses all."
"Not in the least! I begged for your mercy at first; now I bring toyou the Queen's commands."
She almost gasped, and then laughed out loudly. "The Queen'scommands--the commands of Madame Grosse-Tete to me! Ha! ha! ha! Itook you for an insolent fool; but you a
re mad, monsieur, mad!"
For answer I held out to her one of her letters to De Ganache.
"The Queen desires you to see this, madame. It is your own writing toa man you have killed, body and soul--and there are many others likethis--so it would be useless to destroy it. Read it!"
She stared at me for an instant in blank amaze, and then snatched thepaper from me, her face white, her hands trembling. One glance at it,and she burst out:
"This is a forgery! A base forgery!" And then I laughed, for therewould now be no mercy shown towards this she-wolf.
"There is no forgery there! And there are other proofs. What thinkyou that your Syrian go-between will say when put to the question?What of your glovemaker Camus, and the house in the Rue desLavandieres? Madame, you are alone here but for a half score of yourarchers and that fool Crequy. Think you that with such proofs in herhand the Queen would hesitate even to arrest you?"
"Arrest me!" she stammered.
"Yes! There are charges enough. What think you that theKing--Monsieur Grosse-Tete as you call him--will say when he sees theseletters, and hears of the triangle, and learns that all France, and allEurope, will know his shame, and of the infamous grant you cajoled himinto giving you?"
She shivered and looked around her as I went on coldly:
"Call your guards if you will; but I swear to you that if you do withinthe hour you will fall so low that the very women of the Marais and theTemple would pity you!"
"My God!" And with a shudder she put her hands to her face, and theletter fluttered down to the carpet. Stooping, I picked it up, andcontinued: "The Queen, however, is more merciful than you, and even youhave your uses, madame, so that her Majesty will overlook your crimes,upon a condition." And I stopped.
For a space she stood in silence, her head bowed, and her face covered.At last she slowly put down her hands, and looked at me. Such a look!
"What is your condition?"
"It is not mine. I begged for your pity, and you denied me. This isthe mercy of the Queen to you--the mercy of the woman you have wronged."
"Enough of that! What are the terms? Am I to be kept here waiting forever?"
"Simply that Mademoiselle de Paradis is restored to the Queen unhurt,and fully pardoned, within twenty-four hours."
She bit her under lip till her white teeth left a vivid mark on it as Ispoke, and then with an outbreak of wolfish fury:
"I will not! I will not!" And she stamped her foot. "She shalldie--whatever happens--do you hear?"
"Perfectly! And in half an hour, I promise you, you will be arrested,and the story of your shame known to all. Do you think women like youhave an empire that lasts for ever? You should take a lesson from thepast, madame. Once the King's eyes are opened, and they will be intwelve hours, you will stand alone. But you have made your choice, andI will take your answer to the Queen."
With that I bowed, and made for the door. Ere I had gone half thelength of the room, however, she called me back.
"Stay!"
I turned slowly, and faced her once more.
"Is it any use? You have answered me."
"No; I have not." Her voice was half strangled, and there were tearsof anger and mortification in her eyes. "No; I have not," sherepeated; and then gasped out: "I will do what you wish; but I wantthose letters back."
"That rests with the Queen. She makes no terms with you, and in thatyou must throw yourself on her pity."
With a low cry she suddenly flung herself down on the cushions, bitingat them in impotent fury with her strong white teeth and tearing at theembroidery with her fingers. It was the fury of despair. It was thesenseless rage of an animal, and I stood and watched, feeling that adesperate game was won, and almost pitying her, murderess, and worse,though she was.
After a while she looked up at me, her face haggard, her eyes livid.
"Have you no pity?" she moaned. "Are you made of steel?"
"Come, madame! I await your answer, and time presses."
She gave me a deadly glance, and rose slowly, clasping and unclaspinghe hands convulsively. At last she said:
"Very well. You shall have the pardon."
"In that case, madame, I am to say that your papers will be returned toyou."
"Enough!" And with another burst of anger: "And now go--begone!"
"A moment!" And stepping towards the gong I struck it lightly with thehammer. Almost on the stroke the door opened, and Crequy appeared, hiseyes staring with astonishment as he glanced from the one to the otherof us.
"Monsieur de Crequy," I said, "madame has received ill news, and it isnecessary for her to see the King at once. Madame will start forFontainebleau in an hour--that will suit you, madame?" And I turned toLa Valentinois.
"Yes."
"You will kindly make the necessary arrangements at once, monsieur--andthe Queen's guards will supply the escort. Monsieur de Lorgnac and Iaccompany madame."
And with that I left them, Crequy staring after me in open-mouthedamaze.