CHAPTER VI
LOUIS XIV
Even at this time I remember how nervous I was when I dressed for myinterview with the King. What it was for, or how it might result, Icould form no idea, so I did not trouble myself with vain thinking.
Promptly at ten I presented myself at that famous door which led to theroom where Louis held his morning levee. Already the approaches werecrowded, and the officer on watch was busy examining passes and requestsfor admission. Some there were who passed haughtily in without even somuch as a glance at the guard or the crowd which parted obsequiously tolet them through. Most probably favorites of the King, or perchance hisministers. When he reached me the officer of the guard, noting myuniform, inquired:
"Captain de Mouret of Louisiana?"
"Yes."
"You are to be admitted, sir," and I found myself ushered immediatelythrough the opening ranks of Swiss mercenaries into the audience chamberof the King.
Louis no longer held his levees in the great vaulted chamber into which Iwas first shown, but in a smaller and more sombre room, that of deMaintenon. The character and dress of those present reflected with achameleon's fidelity the change in His Majesty's habits. Madame sat nearthe King, working upon a piece of tapestry which, when she was interestedin what went on, lay idle in her lap. Behind her chair stood thesour-visaged Jesuit confessor, Letellier.
Death, which spared not even the Bourbon, had taken away the Dauphin andhis son; leaving as the King's successor an infant yet in his cradle.This embittered every thought of the King's declining years, made himgloomy, petulant and querulous. And yet there were many men still abouthim capable of upholding the dignity of the throne. I heard announced,one after the other, Grand Marshal Villars, lately placed in command ofall the armies of France; the Duke of Savoy, a famous soldier, but adeserter from the English; the brothers de Noailles, one bearing aMarshal's baton, the other, cold, cynical, austere, robed in churchlygarments, Archbishop of Paris. There were Villeroi, de Tourville, theadmiral; and Marshal Tallard--he who lost the bloody field of Blenheim tothe Englishman Churchill.
I confess I was abashed at the sound of so many great names, and advancedin hesitating fashion across the floor, to kneel before the King.
"Tut, tut, Captain de Mouret," he said, kindly, "Rise, we would hearsomewhat from you touching matters in our Province of Louisiana, andparticularly of their safety in case of war--say, with Spain."
He then asked a few questions about things familiar to me, which put mequite at ease. What I said I can scarce at this time recollect, but Iknow I spoke with all a soldier's enthusiasm of my beloved commander, ofhis diplomacy in peace, of his war-won successes.
It did not pass unnoticed that many a venomous glance was shot towards mefrom that little group behind the King, but in the King's presence Ifeared nothing, and spoke on, unrestrained.
Once a tall man whom I took to be Chamillard interrupted; the Kingmotioned me to proceed, and I told him all the strength and resources ofthe colonies, their weakness and their needs. When I thought I hadfinished, the King's face hardened, and looking me straight in the eye,he inquired:
"What is this I hear of Bienville's presuming to criticise me--me, Louis,his King--for contemplating such a disposition of the colonies as suitsmy royal pleasure? Can you tell me that as glibly, sir?"
For the moment I was astounded and had no word to say. I could see afaint smile run round the circle as they exchanged glances ofintelligence. Serigny was right. The spy had already arrived. Hiseavesdropping news had reached the King. In my indignation I forgot theman I addressed was the Imperial Louis. Defending my master I spokevigorously the truth, and that right earnestly.
"Your Majesty is a soldier, and will forgive a soldier's blunt speech. Ibeg you, Sire, to consider the services and the sorrows of Bienville'speople, the loyal le Moynes. Where rests his father? Where his valiantbrothers, Ste. Helene and Mericourt? Dead, and for the silver lilies!Where's Iberville, the courteous, the brave; he who ravaged the frozenocean and the tropic seas in his royal master's name? Dead, Sire, of thepestilence in San Domingo. Does the King not remember his good shipPelican? Has the King forgotten Iberville? Hast forgotten thine ownwhite flag cruising on thine enemy's coast, borne down by four vessels ofsuperior weight? Did the Eagle stretch her wings to escape the Lion?
"Did the Silver Lilies flee before St. George's Cross? No, by thedeathless glory of the Bourbon, no! And who was he that dared--followingthe example of his King, the Conqueror of the Rhine--who was he thatdared meet such enemies and engage such odds? Whose was that boyish faceof thirty, waving his curls upon the quarter deck, with the noble frontof a very God of War? Iberville! Who is he that brushes away a tear togaze upon his stripling brother beside the guns, soon to be exposed byhis command to such a fearful danger? Iberville, again! Who is thatfiery soldier, recking nothing save his duty, who seeth without a tremorthat beloved brother lying mangled at his post, where the storms of helldo rage, and flames consume the dead? Who, when the enemy laydismantled, their hulks afire, their colors struck, their best shipssunk, when the glorious standard of France triumphant dallied with thebreeze--who is that dauntless gentleman who kneels upon his battle-rivenbut victorious deck and sobs aloud in agony above his writhing brother?Who is this stricken gentleman, who, having won that most heroic fightfor his King, now prints a kiss, as a tender maiden might, upon the palelips of a dying lad? Ah, Sire, it was Iberville, it was Iberville, myKing, Iberville the gentle, Iberville the true! Hast thou forgotten thatwounded lad who lived to serve his King so well on other fields? Dostremember his name? Let me remind you, Sire, that lad was Bienville de laChaise, your loyal governor of Louisiana. Did the King but know thetrials and sufferings of my master in upholding the royal authority, hewould forgive him much. Nor do I fear to say it even here, that thosemen who seek his downfall would as lief line their wallets with Spanishdoubloons as with honest Louis d'or. De la Vente, the renegade priest,the center of strife and discontent in the colonies, traffics with theIndians and brings opprobrium upon your Majesty's name. It is he or laSalle who sends this idle tale--la Salle, who, from your Majesty'scommissary, supplies this de la Vente with his merchandise. Who theirfriends are here to tell your Majesty these tales, I care not. Savingthe royal presence, I would be pleased to discuss the matter with themelsewhere."
"Thou art a bold lad," observed the King.
I had noted his eyes flash, and the thin nostrils dilate at mention ofthe passage of the Rhine; so, emboldened by the surety of success, I keptmy own courage up.
"Aye, Sire, truth need have no fear from the greatest of all theBourbons. Bienville is a soldier, not a courtier, and stung beyondendurance by the threat of his enemies that they would yet beguile yourMajesty to sell your fair Province of Louisiana, and turn the royalbarracks into a peddler's shop--mayhap he did use some such hot andthoughtless expressions to me. These, some spy may have overheard andforwarded here to his hurt. If it please you to hear the words, I willrepeat them upon the oath of an officer."
"Go on," he commanded drily.
"Bienville did say it was a matter of shame to forego such abroad domainwherein lay so much wealth, because of present troubles. It is hisambition to found there a new empire in the west, to add a brighter gloryto the name of Bourbon, to plant the silver lilies upon the remotestboundaries of the earth, calling it all Louisiana, a mighty continent,without a rival and without a frontier. Ah! Your Majesty has inBienville a strong heart and a firm hand, a man who prefers to devote hislife to your service, rather than live at ease in France; a man whocarries more scars for his King than your Majesty has fingers--poorerto-day than when he entered your service, though others about him havegrown rich."
I told him, too, without reserve, of the contemplated Indian attack inthe spring, of my own haste to return. His face lighted up with the fireof his thought:
"Then, by my faith," he broke in, "you need a bold, ambitious soldier foryour Governor. W
hat think you, Villars, Chamillard--gentlemen?"
None dared oppose the King.
"I overheard you, Captain, in the gardens yesterday, and think the masterwho has taught you such sentiments is a man the King of France can trust.Convey to the trusty and well beloved Governor of our Province ofLouisiana our renewed confidence, with our assurance he is not to bedisturbed. We make you our royal messenger for the purpose."
Then he gravely inclined his head to signify the interview was done.
As soon as I decently could I left the royal presence and repaired atonce to Serigny. I found him still in his apartments waiting me withevery appearance of intense impatience. Almost as I rapped he had openedthe door himself. The valet had been dismissed. My face--for I was yetflushed with excitement--told of our victory. He grasped my hand in bothhis own and asked:
"We have won? Tell me, how was it?"
"Aye, sir, and nobly. I have the King's own warrant that our Governor isnot to be disturbed."
Every shade of anxiety vanished, and he laughed as unaffectedly as a girl.
"Thou art a clever lad; but tell me of it, tell me of it!"
I told him then of the audience, neglecting not the minutest detail, noteven the black looks of those who thronged about the King.
"Chamillard's doing, and Crozat. Crozat the parvenu--Marquis du Chatel,forsooth, with his scissors and yardstick for device."
He questioned me closely concerning the personages present, and what theysaid. After having heard on to the end he was quite composed andbroached again the subject of the previous night.
"Well, Captain," he commenced, half banteringly, "if thou hast done thyconferences with the King, we will talk of your next adventure. Timepresses, and you see from what Louis said, our enemies are already atwork."
I hearkened with many misgivings, for I felt of a truth uncertain ofmyself in this new character--and shall I confess it--a trifle ill atease concerning this bravo, Carne Yvard, the duelist of the iron hand,and the gamester with the luck of the devil. However, I put upon myselfa steadfast front and listened.
"We have a fine lad at Paris in our service," said Serigny, "and with himfour as staunch fellows as ever dodged a halter. De Greville--Jerome deGreville--has his lodgings in Rue St. Denis, at the sign of the AustrianArms. The host is a surly, close-mouthed churl who will give you littleinformation until he knows you well. Then you may rely upon him. Jeromehas been watching our quarry these many weeks; we hold him in easy reach,as a bait to catch his accomplice. Then we will put them both where theycan spy upon us no longer. I desire them to be taken alive if possible,and by all the gods, they shall hang."
Verily, this was a pleasant adventure for me to contemplate, taking alivesuch a desperado, who handled his sword like a hell-born imp.
"I would not expose you to this," continued Serigny, "but for the sternnecessity that those papers should reach me unopened. They are to bedelivered to you, and I hold you responsible. You understand?"
I bowed my acquiescence.
Then he went on, talking more at ease, though I was far from placid atthe prospect. He told me of the different streets, the lay of the town,and the various men with whom I would be thrown.
"Beyond all," and in this I afterward acknowledged his foresight, "do notneglect the women, for their hands now wield the real power in France."
I must own I thought more on the nature of my new errand than on what hewas saying. I felt no small degree of distrust, yet, for my honor'ssake, kept it to myself.
"And when shall I set out for Paris?" I asked.
"To-day; at once. Le Dauphin has already lain four days at anchorage,and we know for a surety that the expected spy has come. We can not acttoo promptly."
And so it came about that I left within the hour.
A carriage had been made ready, and I bade Serigny good-bye in his ownrooms. He feared our being seen together too frequently about the palace.
"But one other thing, my lad," he stopped me as I would go, "you mustneed have other garb than that. Your harness of the wilderness but illbefits a gay gallant in Paris--for such you must now appear. You visitthe capital to see the sights, understand; a country gentleman--Grevillewill instruct you, the rascal has naturally a turn for intrigue andmasquerading. A dress like yours would mark you apart from the throngand perchance draw upon you the scathe of idle tongue. Here is gold toarray yourself as becomes a well-to-do gentleman, and gold to spend atwine and on the games withal--for, thank Providence, the ancient House ofLemoyne is not yet bankrupt."
I fain would not take his proffered coins, but he urged them upon me withsuch insistency that I, seeing the good sense of doing as I was bid,placed them in my meager purse, and with a light heart I set out upon mydoubtful journey.
The fear of which I spoke died away, for since our success with the King,my spirits rose, and I deemed all things possible. Besides, was I not inthe personal service of my beloved commander who never knew a fear?
* * * * * *
The postilion whipped up his horses, and we turned towards the old cityof Paris, that treasure-house of varied fortunes whence every man mightdraw his lot--of poverty or riches, of fame or obscurity, of happiness ormisery--as chance and strength directs.