Kitabı oku: «Balsamo, the Magician; or, The Memoirs of a Physician», sayfa 18

CHAPTER XLII
THE KING'S NEW AMOUR

This same long night had been employed by Countess Dubarry in trying to mold the king's mind to a new policy according to her views.

Above all she had dwelt upon the necessity of not letting the Choiseul party win possession of the dauphiness. The king had answered carelessly that the princess was a girl and Choiseul an old statesman, so that there was no danger, since one only wanted to sport and the other to labor. Enchanted at what he thought a witticism, he cut short further dry talk.

But Jeanne did not stay stopped, for she fancied the royal lover was thinking of another.

He was fickle. His great pleasure was in making his lady-loves jealous, as long as they did not sulk too long or become too riotous in their jealous fits.

Jeanne Dubarry was jealous naturally, and from fear of a fall. Her position had cost her too much pains to conquer and was too far from the starting-point for her to tolerate rivals as Lady Pompadour had done.

Hence she wanted to know what was on the royal mind.

He answered by these memorable words, of which he did not mean a jot:

"I intend to make my daughter-in-law very happy and I am afraid that my son will not make her so."

"Why not, sire?"

"Because he looks at other women a good deal, and very seldom at her."

"If any but your majesty said that, I should disbelieve them, for the archduchess is sweetly pretty."

"She might be rounded out more; that Mademoiselle de Taverney is the same age and she has a finer figure. She is perfectly lovely."

Fire flashed in the favorite's eyes and warned the speaker of his blunder.

"Why, I wager that you were plump as Watteau's shepherdesses at sixteen," said he quickly, which adulation improved matters a little, but the mischief was done.

"Humph," said she, bridling up under the pleased smile, "is the young lady of the Taverney family so very, very fair?"

"I only noticed that she was not a bag of bones. You know I am short-sighted and the general outline alone strikes me. I saw that the new-comer from Austria was not plump, that is all."

"Yes, you must only see generally, for the Austrian is a stylish beauty, and the provincial lady a vulgar one."

"According to this, Jeanne, you would be the vulgar kind," said the monarch. "You are joking, I think."

"That is a compliment, but it is wrapped up in a compliment to another," thought the favorite, and aloud she said: "Faith, I should like the dauphiness to choose a bevy of beauties for maids of honor. A court of old tabbies is frightful."

"You are talking over one won to your side, for I was saying the same thing to the dauphin; but he is indifferent."

"However, she begins well, you think, to take this Taverney girl. She has no money?"

"No, but she has blood. The Taverney Redcastles are a good old house and long-time servants of the realm."

"Who is backing them?"

"Not the Choiseuls, for they would be overfeasted with pensions in that case."

"I beg you not to bring in politics, countess!"

"Is it bringing in politics to say the Choiseuls are blood-sucking the realm?"

"Certainly." And he arose.

An hour after he regained the Grand Trianon palace, happy at having inspired jealousy, though he said to himself, as a Richelieu might do at thirty:

"What a bother these jealous women are!"

Dubarry went into her boudoir, where Chon was impatiently waiting for the news.

"You are having fine success," she exclaimed; "day before yesterday presented to the dauphiness, you dined at her table yesterday."

"That's so – but much good in such nonsense."

"Nonsense, when a hundred fashionable carriages are racing to bring you courtiers?"

"I am vexed, sorry for them, as they will not have any smiles from me this morning. Let me have my chocolate."

"Stormy weather, eh?"

Chon rang and Zamore came in to get the order. He started off so slowly, and humping up his back, that the mistress cried:

"Is that slowcoach going to make me perish of hunger? If he plays the camel and does not hurry, he'll get a hundred lashes on his back."

"Me no hurry – me gubbernor," replied the black boy, majestically.

"You a governor?" screamed the lady, flourishing a fancy riding whip kept to maintain order among the spaniels. "I'll give you a lesson in governing."

But the negro ran out yelling.

"You are quite ferocious, Jeanne," remarked her sister.

"Surely I have the right to be ferocious in my own house?"

"Certainly; but I am going to elope, for fear I may be devoured alive."

Three knocks on the door came to interrupt the outbreak.

"Hang it all – who is bothering now?" cried the countess, stamping her foot.

"He is in for a nice welcome," muttered Chon.

"It will be a good thing if I am badly received," said Jean, as he pushed open the door as widely as though he were a king, "for then I should take myself off and not come again. And you would be the greater loser of the two."

"Saucebox – "

"Because I am not a flatterer. What is the matter with the girl this morning, Chon?"

"She is not safe to go near."

"Oh, here comes the chocolate! Good-morning, Chocolate," said the favorite's brother, taking the platter and putting it on a small table, at which he seated himself. "Come and tuck it in, Chon! those who are too proud won't get any, that's all."

"You are a nice pair," said Jeanne, "gobbling up the bread and butter instead of wondering what worries me."

"Out of cash, I suppose?" said Chon.

"Pooh, the king will run out before I do."

"Then lend me a thousand – I can do with it," said the man.

"You will get a thousand fillips on the nose sooner than a thousand Louis."

"Is the king going to keep that abominable Choiseul?" questioned Chon.

"That is no novelty – you know that they are sticks-in-the-mud."

"Has the old boy fallen in love with the dauphiness?"

"You are getting warm; but look at the glutton, ready to burst with swilling chocolate and will not lift a finger to help me out of my quandary."

"You never mean to say the king has another fancy?" cried Chon, clasping her hands, and turning pale.

"If I did not say so your brother would, for he will either choke with the chocolate or get it out."

Thus adjured, Jean managed to gasp the name:

"Andrea of Taverney!"

"The baron's daughter – oh, mercy!" groaned Chon.

"I do not know what keeps me from tearing his eyes out, the lazybones, to go puffing them up with sleep when our fortunes stagger."

"With want of sleep you mean," returned Jean. "I am sleepy, as I am hungry, for the same reason – I have been running about the streets all night."

"Just like you."

"And all the morning."

"You might have run to some purpose, and found out where that intriguing jade is housed."

"The very thing – I questioned the driver of the carriage lent to them, and he took them to Coq Heron street. They are living in a little house at the back, next door to Armenonville House."

"Jean, Jean, we are good friends again," said the countess. "Gorge as you like. But we must have all the particulars about her, how she lives, who calls on her, and what she is about. Does she get any love letters – these are important to know."

"I have got us started on the right road anyway," said Jean; "suppose you do a little now."

"Well," suggested Chon, "there must be rooms to let in that street."

"Excellent idea," said the countess. "You must be off quickly to the place, Jean, and hire a flat there, where a watcher can mark down all her doings."

"No use; there are no rooms to hire there; I inquired; but I can get what we want in the street at the back, overlooking their place, Plastrière Street."

"Well, quick! get a room there."

"I have done that," answered Jean.

"Admirable fellow – come, let me buss thee!" exclaimed the royal favorite.

Jean wiped his mouth, received the caress and made a ceremonious bow to show that he was duly grateful for the honor.

"I took the little suite for a young widow. Young widow, you, Chon."

"Capital! it shall be Chon who will take the lodgings and keep an eye on what goes on. But you must not lose any time. The coach," cried Dubarry, ringing the bell so loudly that she would have roused all the spellbound servants of the palace of the Sleeping Beauty.

The three knew how highly to rate Andrea, for at her first sight she had excited the king's attention; hence she was dangerous.

"This girl," said the countess while the carriage was being got ready; "cannot be a true country wench if she has not made some sweetheart follow her to Paris. Let us hunt up this chap and get her married to him offhand. Nothing would so **** off the king as rustic lovers getting wedded."

"I do not know so much about that," said Jean. "Let us be distrustful. His most Christian majesty is greedy for what is another's property."

Chon departed in the coach, with Jean's promise that he would be her first visitor in the new lodgings. She was in luck, for she had hardly more than taken possession of the rooms, and gone to look out of the window commanding a view of the rear gardens than a young lady came to sit at the summer-house window, with embroidery in her hand.

It was Andrea.

CHAPTER XLIII
TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE

Chon had not been many minutes scanning the Taverney lady, when Viscount Jean, racing up the stairs four at a time like a schoolboy, appeared on the threshold of the pretended widow's room.

"Hurrah, Jean, I am placed splendidly to see what goes on, but I am unfortunate about hearing."

"You ask too much. Oh, I say, I have a bit of news, marvelous and incomparable. Those philosophic fellows say a wise man ought to be ready for anything, but I cannot be wise, for this knocked me. I give you a hundred chances to guess who I ran up against at a public fountain at the corner; he was sopping a piece of bread in the gush, and it was – our philosopher."

"Who? Gilbert?"

"The very boy, with bare head, open waistcoat, stockings ungartered, shoes without buckles, in short, just as he turned out of bed."

"Then he lives by here? Did you speak to him?"

"We recognized one another, and when I thrust out my hand, he bolted like a harrier among the crowd, so that I lost sight of him. You don't think I was going to run after him, do you?"

"Hardly, but then you have lost him."

"What a pity!" said the girl Sylvie, whom Chon had brought along as her maid.

"Yes, certainly," said Jean; "I owe him a hundred stripes with a whip, and they would not have spoilt by keeping any longer had I got a grip of his collar; but he guessed my good intentions and fled. No matter, here he is in town; and when one has the ear of the chief of police, anybody can be found."

"Shut him up when you catch him," said Sylvie, "but in a safe place."

"And make you turnkey over him," suggested Jean, winking. "She would like to take him his bread and water."

"Stop your joking, brother," said Chon; "the young fellow saw your row over the post-horses, and he is to be feared if you set him against you."

"How can he live without means?"

"Tut, he will hold horses or run errands."

"Never mind him; come to our observatory."

Brother and sister approached the window with infinity of precautions. Jean had provided himself with a telescope.

Andrea had dropped her needlework, put up her feet on a lower chair, taken a book, and was reading it with some attention, for she remained very still.

"Fie on the studious person!" sneered Chon.

"What an admirable one!" added Jean. "A perfect being – what arms, what hands! what eyes! lips that would wreck the soul of St. Anthony – oh, the divine feet – and what an ankle in that silk hose?"

"Hold your tongue! this is coming on finely," said Chon. "You are smitten with her, now. This is the drop that fills the bucket."

"It would not be a bad job if it were so, and she returned me the flame a little. It would save our poor sister a lot of worry."

"Let me have the spyglass a while. Yes, she is very handsome, and she must have had a sweetheart out there in the woods. But she is not reading – see, the book slips out of her hand. I tell you, Jean, that she is in a brown study."

"She sleeps, you mean."

"Not with her eyes open – what lovely eyes! This a good glass, Jean – I can almost read in her book."

"What is the book, then?"

Chon was leaning out a little when she suddenly drew back.

"Gracious! look at that head sticking out of the garret window – "

"Gilbert, by Jove! with what burning eyes he is glaring on the Taverney girl!"

"I have it: he is the country gallant of his lady. He has had the notice where she was coming to live in Paris and he has taken a room close to her. A change of dovecote for the turtle-doves."

"Sister, we need not trouble now, for he will do all the watching – "

"For his own gain."

"No, for ours. Let me pass, as I must go and see the chief of police. By Jupiter, what luck we have! But don't you let Philosopher catch a glimpse of you – he would decamp very quick."

CHAPTER XLIV
THE PLAN OF ACTION

Sartines had allowed himself to sleep late, as he had managed the multitude very well during the dauphiness' reception, and he was trying on new wigs at noon as a kind of holiday when Chevalier Jean Dubarry was announced.

The minister of police was sure that nothing unpleasant had occurred, as the favorite's brother was smiling.

"What brings you so early?"

"To begin with," replied Jean, always ready to flatter those of whom he wanted to make use, "I am bound to compliment you on the admirable way in which you regulated the processions."

"Is this official?"

"Quite, so far as Luciennes is concerned."

"Is not that ample – does not the Sun rise in that quarter?"

"It goes down there very often, eh?" and the pair laughed. "But, the compliments apart, I have a service to ask of you."

"Two, if you like."

"Tell me if anything lost in Paris can be found?"

"Yes, whether worthless or very valuable."

"My object of search is not worth much," responded Jean, shaking his head. "Only a young fellow of eighteen, named Gilbert, who was in the service of the Taverneys in Lorraine, but was picked up on the road by my sister Chon. She took him to Luciennes, where he abused the hospitality."

"Stole something?"

"I do not say so, but he took flight in a suspicious manner."

"Have you any clue to his hiding place?"

"I met him at the fountain at the corner of Plastrière Street, where I suppose he is living, and I believe I could lay my hand on the very house."

"All right, I will send a sure agent, who will take him out of it!"

"The fact is, this is a special affair, and I should like you to manage it without a third party."

"Oh, in that case, let me pick out a becoming wig and I am with you."

"I have a carriage below."

"Thank you, I prefer my own; it gets a new coat of paint every month, so as not to betray me."

He had tried on his twentieth peruke when the carriage was waiting at the door.

"There it is, the dirty house," said Jean, pointing in the direction of a dwelling in Plastrière street.

"Whew!" said Sartines, "dash me if I did not suspect this. You are unlucky, for that is the dwelling of Rousseau, of Geneva."

"The scribbler? What does that matter?"

"It matters that Rousseau is a man to be dreaded."

"Pooh! it is not likely my little man will be harbored by a celebrity."

"Why not, as you nicknamed him a philosopher? Birds of a feather – you know – "

"Suppose it is so. Why not put this Rousseau in the Bastille if he is in our way?"

"Well, he would be more in our way there than here. You see the mob likes to throw stones at him, but they would pelt us if he was no longer their target, and they want him for themselves. But let us see into this. Sit back in the carriage."

He referred to a notebook.

"I have it. If your young blade is with Rousseau, when would he have met him?"

"Say, on the sixteenth instant."

"Good! he returned from botanizing in Meudon Wood on the seventeenth with a youth, and this stranger stayed all night under his roof. You are crossed by luck. Give it up or you would have all the philosophers against us in riot."

"Oh, Lord! what will sister Jeanne say?"

"Oh, does the countess want the lad? Why not coax him out, and then we would nab him, anywhere not inside Rousseau's house?"

"You might as well coax a hyena."

"I doubt it is so difficult. All you want is a go-between. Let me see; a prince will not do; better one of these writers, a poet, a philosopher or a bota – stay, I have him!"

"Gilbert?"

"Yes, through a botanist friend of Rousseau's. You know Jussieu?"

"Yes, for the countess lets him prowl in her gardens and rifle them."

"I begin to believe that you shall have your Gilbert, without any noise. Rousseau will hand him over, pinioned, so to say. So you go on making a trap for philosophers, according to a plan I will give you, on vacant ground out Meudon or Marly way. Now, let us be off, as the passengers are beginning to stare at us. Home, coachman!"

CHAPTER XLV
TOO GOOD A TEACHER

Fatigued by the ceremonies of the dauphin's nuptials, and particularly by the dinner, which was too stately, the king retired at nine o'clock and dismissed all attendants except Duke Vauguyon, tutor of the royal children. As he was losing his best pupil by the marriage, having only his two brothers to teach, and as it is the custom to reward a preceptor when education of a charge is complete, he expected a recompense.

He had been sobbing, and now he slipped out a pockethandkerchief and began to weep.

"Come, my poor Vauguyon," said the king, pointing to a foot-stool in the light, while he would be in the shade, "pray be seated, without any to-do."

The duke sighed.

"The education is over, and you have turned out in the prince royal the best educated prince in Europe."

"I believe he is."

"Good at history, and geography, and at wood-turning – "

"The praise for that goes to another, sire."

"And at setting timepieces in order. Before he handled them, my clocks told the time one after another like wheels of a coach; but he has put them right. In short, the heir to the crown will, I believe, be a good king, a good manager, and a good father of family. I suppose he will be a good father?" he insisted.

"Why, your majesty," said Vauguyon simply, "I consider that as the dauphin has all the germs of good in his bosom, those that constitute that are in the cluster."

"Come, come, my lord," said the sovereign, "let us speak plainly. As you know the dauphin thoroughly, you must know all about his tastes and his passions – "

"Pardon me, sire, but I have extirpated all his passions."

"Confound it all! this is just what I feared!" exclaimed Louis XV., with an energy which made the hearer's wig stand its hairs on end.

"Sire, the Duke of Berri has lived under your august roof with the innocence of the studious youth."

"But the youth is now a married man."

"Sire, as the guide of – "

"Yes, well, I see that you must guide him to the very last."

"Please your majesty."

"This is the way of it. You will go to the dauphin, who is now receiving the final compliments of the gentlemen as the dauphiness is receiving those of the ladies. Get a candle and take your pupil aside. Show him the nuptial chamber which is at the end of a corridor filled with pictures which I have selected as a complete course of the instruction which your lordship omitted – "

"Ah," said the duke, starting at the smile of his master, which would have appeared cynical on any mouth but his, the wittiest in the kingdom.

"At the end of the new corridor, I say, of which here is the key."

Vauguyon took it trembling.

"You will shake your pupil's hand, put the candle into it, wish him good-night, and tell him that it will take twenty minutes to reach the bedroom door, giving a minute to each painting."

"I – I understand."

"That is a good thing."

"Your majesty is good enough to excuse me – "

"I suppose I shall have to, but you were making this end prettily for my family!"

From the window the king could see the candle which passed from the hands of Vauguyon into that of his guileless pupil, go the way up the new gallery, and flicker out.

"I gave him twenty minutes – I myself found five long enough," muttered the king, "Alas, will they say of the dauphin as of the second Racine: 'He is the nephew of his grandfather.'"