Part 45 (1/2)
Many and curious were the glances cast at us as we stood there, dust-begrimed and travel-stained; and a number of those whom we had put off in the early morning swarmed round us again with their endless questions, which we were hard pressed to parry.
Almost beside us was another door, opening into the council chamber, and interest seemed to be divided between us and what was pa.s.sing there. It was clear that something of importance was in the air, for secretaries came out and went in with quick, rapid steps, and bundles of doc.u.ments under their arms, and every now and again a messenger would hurry forth, and we could hear the clattering of his horse's hoofs as he galloped away.
De Lorges, the captain of the Archer Guard, joined us just as one of the express riders hurried past.
”I wager a hundred pistoles against a flask of Joue that means an end of the Spanish peace,” he said, with a laugh, and rubbing his hands together. ”I am sick of these rusting times. They say that Coligny has attacked Douai already. Ah! here he comes!”
He turned as he spoke towards the entrance of the gallery, and at once the subdued hum of voices stilled to silence, and the crowd of gaily clad courtiers parted, making way with low bows for someone who had just entered. For a second I thought it was the King himself; but a look showed me not the King but the stern figure of the Constable of France.
Montmorenci walked up the gallery, glancing to the right and left of him from under his bushy white brows, now and then returning a salutation. He was in complete mail, all except his helmet, which was borne by a page behind him, and his sinister appearance accorded well with his terrible fame. He was of middle height, with broad and prominent shoulders, and hair as white as snow. His face, tanned to a dark brown by constant exposure, was stern, and yet sad, with fierce, bloodshot eyes set far back in his head, and the grimness of his countenance was enhanced by the two projecting teeth which stuck out from his lower jaw like a boar's tusks.
He came forward slowly, bearing himself with princely dignity, and when he got near to us he stopped, and addressing Lorgnac, whom he knew, inquired:
”From Douai?”
”No, monseigneur; from Paris.”
”I must ask the Queen to spare me her hard riders,” replied Montmorenci, with a grim smile, as he pointed at our dust-soiled apparel, and pa.s.sed on into the council room.
”It is war, as sure as I stand here,” exclaimed De Lorges; and at once a hubbub of voices arose, in the midst of which Carnavalet appeared, and beckoned to us. It took us a little time to reach him, but on our doing so he pa.s.sed us through the door at once, entering with us, and closing it after him. Then pointing to the curtains before him, he said:
”The King awaits you there, messieurs. Enter!”
So tremendous was the issue for me that now that the crisis had come I felt for the moment almost unable to move. But De Lorgnac gripped me by the arm.
”Come,” he said; ”we either win or lose all in the next five minutes.
Come!”
With this he set aside the curtains, and we pa.s.sed through.
There were but three persons in the room we entered. The King was standing, a hand resting on the back of the chair in which La Valentinois sat, as radiantly lovely as though all the fatigues of the night had never been. A little behind them was Bertrandi, the keeper of the seals, a lean, ascetic figure, holding a paper in his hands, and eyeing us with a vulpine curiosity. Somewhat to my surprise the King received us graciously, saying:
”_Eh bien_, messieurs, you have served madame here well, and in doing so have served me. Have they not, Diane?” And he began toying with the black curls of her hair. La Valentinois looked up at him, a world of tenderness in her glance, but made no reply, and we remained silent, struck dumb by the infinite resource of her audacity. Evil as she was it was impossible not to admire her courage; and, as De Lorgnac had rightly foreseen, she had played a great game, but even we were far from guessing the extent to which her duplicity would carry her.
”Messieurs,” the King went on, ”madame has joined her entreaty to that of the Queen for the life of Mademoiselle de Paradis, and very willingly and from my heart have I signed this pardon.” With this he took the paper Bertrandi held and placed it in Diane's hands.
”I give this to you, _mignonne_,” he said, ”for from you comes the mercy of France. Give it to these gentlemen to bear to the Queen; and for the present I must leave you for an hour, for the council awaits me. Come, Bertrandi.” With these bald words, delivered in a stilted fas.h.i.+on, his voice only warming as he bade _au revoir_ to La Valentinois, the King left us, followed by Bertrandi.
CHAPTER x.x.xI
THE PEARS OF ORRAIN
As the curtains fell behind the King all the soft lights left La Valentinois' eyes, and they shone like blue-black steel. She glanced at us, an odd triumph in her look. So intensely an actress was she that it almost seemed, and perhaps it was so, that she was looking at us for some sign, some token of admiration at the skill with which she had played her game, but both De Lorgnac and myself remained impa.s.sive as stone.
”Here,” she said at last, ”here is my part of the bargain.” And, handing me the paper, she continued: ”I presume it is correct?”
Eagerly I ran my eyes over it, De Lorgnac bending over my shoulder and reading with me. It was correct in every particular, signed by the King, and sealed by Bertrandi. As I folded the pardon up, with an inward prayer of thanks to G.o.d, La Valentinois asked again:
”It is correct, is it not?”