Part 39 (1/2)
”The Chatelet.”
”And mademoiselle?”
”I know not. I know not if she is alive or dead.”
Le Brusquet groaned. ”That is the worst tale of all. Orrain, I think, we can save.”
”How so?”
For answer Le Brusquet held up my ring. ”With this talisman!” And slipping it on his finger he continued: ”It is not for nothing that I studied law at the College of Cambrai. As first prince of the blood, Vendome can claim Orrain from the Chatelet. If he has any grat.i.tude he will do so.”
”I never thought of that. I saw the prisoners taken to the Chatelet.
There were two, Orrain and La Mothe, who is as well known to be of the prince's household as Vendome himself is known to be a heretic.”
”Yes; a heretic too great to be touched. But he must pay his debts. I am going at once to see Vendome. Stay here if you like. You know where to find the wine. No, Pompon, not to-night!” And pus.h.i.+ng back the ape, who had made ready to follow him, he went off.
It was gay that night in the salon of La Valentinois. The Queen had gone to St. Germain-en-Laye, where the royal children were, and all those who could had flocked to the apartments of the favourite, to pay their court to the crescent moon. The King had retired earlier than usual, for he meant to hunt on the morrow; but his absence only made the revelry more unrestrained. The card-tables were full, and at one of them sat Diane herself, playing with Caraffa against Vendome and the Marshal St. Andre, and surrounded by a crowd who watched the play and staked amongst themselves upon the game. Immediately behind her stood De Mouchy, in the ermine and red of his office, and ever and again a whispered word pa.s.sed between the twain.
There was a pile of gold before Vendome, who was playing recklessly but with wonderful fortune. His face was flushed and his speech thick, for the goblet on the small service-table at his elbow was ever being filled, and emptied as fast as refilled. Nevertheless, he won each time, though he seemed to fling his cards down on the table without a look or thought.
”The G.o.ds are with me,” he exclaimed loudly as he pulled off a _coup_, made utterly by hazard, and drew the stakes towards him.
Diane laughed gaily, but the red fox Caraffa was a bad loser.
”Monseigneur,” he said with a snarl, ”there is a proverb about luck at cards.”
”I know,” was the swift and unexpected reply. ”Mistrust thy fortune when the knave and the Church are together.” And Vendome pointed to the card the Legate had just played.
There was a t.i.tter all around; but Diane's white arm was stretched forth, and she tapped Vendome with her fan.
”Fie, Monseigneur! Your wit is too cruel. His Eminence but referred to the old saw: lucky at cards, unlucky in love.”
The prince gallantly kissed her jewelled hand. ”Madame, that is true, for until I met you I never knew how unlucky I was.”
La Valentinois did not note the glance in Vendome's eye, and, vain as a peac.o.c.k, blushed as she alone could blush. But a murmured word from De Mouchy caught her ear, and leaning back in her chair, her face half turned towards De Mouchy, and her fan outspread between herself and the prince, she asked in a quick whisper:
”Is it over?”
”Yes! He has come.”
As De Mouchy spoke the crowd parted, and the Vidame appeared, and bowed before Diane.
”It was impossible to come sooner, madame; I had a little affair, and it was necessary to change my attire.”
”A successful affair, I trust, Monsieur le Vidame.”
Simon was about to answer, but a high-pitched voice broke in: ”More successful than even the Vidame's great feat of arms in the forest of Fontevrault.” And Le Brusquet made his way through the press, and stood behind the prince's chair.
Diane rose from her seat, and Simon glared at Le Brusquet, whilst a dozen voices called out: