Part 17 (1/2)

Briefly St. Georges said to Louvois:

”And if I fail in this second behest, what then? What if I refuse to quit France?”

”That I leave you to imagine. Sir, our interview is at an end;” and he rang a bell as he spoke, and when it was answered by a gorgeous footman, said:

”Escort this gentleman to the courtyard.”

St. Georges, however, made no sign of following the servant, but, instead, advanced a step closer to Louvois, so that when he stood nearer to him than he had hitherto done, the latter gave unmistakable signs of apprehension. Yet, seeing that there was no threatening appearance on the other's face and that his sword hung idle and untouched by his side, he said:

”You do not hear me, sir, it would seem. Our interview is at an end.”

”Not yet,” replied St. Georges, very calmly. ”You have delivered your decision--I refuse to believe it is the king's. And until I receive it from his own lips, I shall neither quit Paris nor France.”

”You will not?”

”I will not.”

”So,” replied Louvois in a harsh tone, ”that is _your_ decision.” Then changing his tone to one which, perhaps, he thought more effective--a gentler, more subtle tone--he said: ”You are, I think, unwise. The king will not see you; and--meanwhile--he can find means to exercise his authority, to have his orders executed.”

”The king _will_ see me, I think. Monsieur Louvois, I have a pet.i.tion to present to his Majesty.”

”A pet.i.tion!”

”Against three of his subjects, all of whom, as I do believe before G.o.d, have been engaged in a most foul attempt against me and my child.

Monsieur le ministre, shall I mention the names of those subjects of the king?” and his eye glanced at the servant as he spoke.

”No, be silent,” replied Louvois; ”also I bid you beware what you say, what do. Monsieur St. Georges,” he continued, breaking out into one of those heats of rage which were usual with him, while, even as he did so, he roughly motioned the servant at the door to quit the room.--”Monsieur St. Georges, do you know the deadly peril in which you stand? Do you know, I say? If it pleases me I have enough authority to commit you to the Bastille to-night, to Vincennes, to Bicetre--the power to arrest you here in this room. If I summon that servant again, a file of mousquetaires will be sent for; if I touch this bell”--and he pointed to another than the one which he had already rung--”they will appear. Monsieur St. Georges, will you quit Paris to-night and France directly afterward, or shall I call in the soldiers?”

”Call in the soldiers,” the other replied, now thoroughly desperate, ”or the servant, or as many of your following as you choose! Only--ere you do so hear me,” and he raised his hand in so authoritative a manner that Louvois, who had made a step toward the bell, paused in astonishment. Then St. Georges continued: ”I am resolved to obtain an audience of the king to-night, and can do so if not thwarted. My charger is fleeter than the horses of his state carriage; I can reach Marly as soon as he. To-day is Thursday, _le jour des audiences iconnues_; it is my chance. Now, monsieur, shall I see the king to-night unmolested, unprevented by you, or shall I be dragged before him an a.s.sa.s.sin to plead my cause? A murderer, but a righteous one?”

”An a.s.sa.s.sin--a murderer!” exclaimed Louvois, stepping back, while his face blanched. ”Explain yourself.”

”Then listen--and--abstain from that bell till you have heard me”--seeing that the other's eye roved toward it. ”I intend,” speaking rapidly, ”to see the king to-night or in the morning at latest, and to tell him of the foul plot of which an officer of his _chevaux-legers_ has been the victim; to ask him if, bearing this about me”--and he produced from his breast the letter ordering him to leave Pontarlier and travel to Paris--”he approves of the manner in which I have been spied upon, tracked, nigh done to death, and robbed of my most precious treasure, my child; to sue for permission to seek out those who have done this thing and bring them at last to justice. And, M. de Louvois, I tell you face to face and man to man that, if you approach that bell, summon your soldiers until I am outside this door, they shall find you a dead man when they open it! Once outside I can answer for myself. Now choose!”

And as he spoke his right hand went round to his sword-hilt, while his left raised the scabbard, so that the blade could easily be drawn.

CHAPTER XVI.

PASQUEDIEU!

St. Georges was not, however, destined to arrive at Marly on that night, nor to see Louis and lay his story before him.

On quitting Louvois he made his way swiftly along the corridor leading from the chamber on the ground floor in which he had been received to the courtyard, no interruption being attempted, as was natural enough, considering that he was leaving instead of seeking to enter the building. The soldiers, gendarmerie and the Suisses as well as the Mousquetaires Gris--whose turn it was at the present moment to be in attendance at the Louvre--were lounging about the guard room and the great gateway, and they not only did not offer any opposition to his pa.s.sage, but, instead, seeing about him the signs of a cavalry officer--the gorget, long cut-and-thrust sword, great boots, and gantlets--saluted him.

Therefore he pa.s.sed out into the street--since known in the present century as the Rue de Rivoli--and regained his horse from the _guet_ in whose custody he had left it.

That he recognised the danger--the awful danger--in which he had now placed himself, who can doubt? He was a soldier, and he had threatened the a.s.sa.s.sination of the chief--under the king--of the army. Moreover, he was a soldier who had just been dismissed from that army for failing in his duty, for allowing private affairs--harrowing as they were!--to come between him and that duty. Now he was cooler; he became more clear sighted; he knew that he had done a thing which would destroy any claim that he might make for the king's sympathy with him.

”I am ruined,” he murmured, looking up and down the street, not knowing which way to direct his horse's steps; ”have ruined myself. Louis will never forgive this when he hears Louvois's story--never see me nor hear me. Fool, fool that I am! I have destroyed everything--above all, my one chance of regaining Dorine!”