Part 43 (1/2)
”_Mon Dieu_! but this surpa.s.ses all.”
”Not in the least! I begged for your mercy at first; now I bring to you the Queen's commands.”
She almost gasped, and then laughed out loudly. ”The Queen's commands--the commands of Madame Grosse-Tete to me! Ha! ha! ha! I took you for an insolent fool; but you are 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 to a man you have killed, body and soul--and there are many others like this--so it would be useless to destroy it. Read it!”
She stared at me for an instant in blank amaze, and then s.n.a.t.c.hed the paper 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 there would now be no mercy shown towards this she-wolf.
”There is no forgery there! And there are other proofs. What think you that your Syrian go-between will say when put to the question?
What of your glovemaker Camus, and the house in the Rue des Lavandieres? Madame, you are alone here but for a half score of your archers and that fool Crequy. Think you that with such proofs in her hand the Queen would hesitate even to arrest you?”
”Arrest me!” she stammered.
”Yes! There are charges enough. What think you that the King--Monsieur Grosse-Tete as you call him--will say when he sees these letters, and hears of the triangle, and learns that all France, and all Europe, will know his shame, and of the infamous grant you cajoled him into giving you?”
She s.h.i.+vered and looked around her as I went on coldly:
”Call your guards if you will; but I swear to you that if you do within the hour you will fall so low that the very women of the Marais and the Temple would pity you!”
”My G.o.d!” And with a shudder she put her hands to her face, and the letter fluttered down to the carpet. Stooping, I picked it up, and continued: ”The Queen, however, is more merciful than you, and even you have your uses, madame, so that her Majesty will overlook your crimes, upon a condition.” And I stopped.
For a s.p.a.ce 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 is the 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 for ever?”
”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 I spoke, and then with an outbreak of wolfish fury:
”I will not! I will not!” And she stamped her foot. ”She shall die--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 you have an empire that lasts for ever? You should take a lesson from the past, madame. Once the King's eyes are opened, and they will be in twelve hours, you will stand alone. But you have made your choice, and I will take your answer to the Queen.”
With that I bowed, and made for the door. Ere I had gone half the length of the room, however, she called me back.
”Stay!”