Chapter 27

The King Visits Raoul.

I shall not soon forget the day the Court left Gien. Mazarin had kept me fully employed until a late hour on the previous evening, and directly after breakfast I went to spend a last five minutes with Raoul. Turenne had given orders that he should be well lodged, and the King's own surgeons had attended to dress his wounds. The news of his gallant exploit had quickly spread abroad, and numerous luxuries had been forwarded to the sick room from the royal table.

Happily his hurts were not serious, a gash across his sword-arm being the worst, but he could dress himself with the assistance of Pillot, whom I had sent to wait on him, though he had to let the right sleeve of his tunic hang empty. Pillot had finished dressing him when I entered, and Raoul exclaimed with a laugh, "I shall be sorry when you go, Albert; I shall lose an admirable valet."

"We move at once," I answered, "but Pillot will remain here till you can manage without his assistance. Is it not so, Pillot?"

"Certainly, monsieur, if M. Beauchamp permits."

"Why," exclaimed Raoul, smiling, "as to that I should be very pleased, but how will M. de Lalande manage?"

"Look after himself," said I. "The change will do me good; I have been growing lazy of late. Listen! What a hubbub in the street! Some one is coming up the stairs. Run to the door, Pillot, and see who our visitor is."

The dwarf had just crossed the room when there was a knock at the door, and an officer high in the royal household entered.

"M. Beauchamp," said he, glancing round with a smile, "I congratulate you on your good fortune. His most gracious Majesty is below, with Marshal Turenne, who has sung your praises so loudly that, before leaving Gien, His Majesty insisted on coming to visit you."

Never in all my life had I felt such a thrill of joy as at these words. The King was coming to visit Raoul! My heart beat fast at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and I bubbled over with happy excitement as the famous soldier and the royal boy made their appearance.

"M. Beauchamp," exclaimed the Marshal, "His Majesty has heard of your brave deeds, and has done you the honour of paying you a visit before he leaves Gien."

Raoul bowed respectfully, speaking just the words required, and acting, in short, as a French gentleman should, who is honoured by his monarch's approval.

[Transcriber's note: illustration missing from book]

I watched the young King closely. He was a handsome lad, and, though not forgetting his regal dignity, he spoke from his heart with all a high-spirited boy's emotion.

"Monsieur," said he, "to the soldier honoured by the greatest general in Europe, a king's gift can have little value. Yet keep this in remembrance of this day, and if ever the need should arise for your monarch's favour, it shall prove a sure passport."

As he spoke he took a star set with brilliants from his own breast, and fastened it on Raoul's.

Bowing low, my comrade spoke his thanks like a gallant knight, and then the royal boy, flushing with pleasure at his own kindly act, and bidding Raoul recover his strength soon, took his departure, accompanied by the Marshal.

"Well done, Raoul!" I cried, "now your fortune is assured. That star will carry you to the very highest position in the days to come. I wish Humphreys had been here to share our pleasure."

"What is it?" cried a cheery voice from the door. "Do you know the King is in the street?"

"Yes," said I, pointing to the star on Raoul's breast, "he has been here, and that is what he has left behind."

"Hurrah!" cried the Englishman. "Bravo, Raoul! You deserve your luck if any one does."

"I owe the honour to Marshal Turenne's considerate kindness."

"And to something else! The Marshal doesn't escort young Louis round giving brilliants to every one who was in the battle! I suppose you have heard we are moving again? Conde has left his army and gone to Paris. I really believe the war will not last much longer."

"I hope not," said I heartily; "if it does, the country will be ruined completely."

"Conde and his friends are to blame for that. But I must be off now; I am baggage-minder-in-chief to the Court."

"It must be a terrible responsibility having to look after the ladies' dresses," laughed Raoul.

"Don't be in too great a hurry to take the field," advised Humphreys, as we wished him good-bye. "That is a nasty gash on the sword-arm, and will require some time to heal. Does Pillot stay behind? Ah! I congratulate you, Beauchamp; he is a capital nurse. See that M. Beauchamp is quite well before he leaves, Pillot."

"Monsieur will find that I shall do my best," exclaimed the little man, and then with a last farewell to Raoul, Humphreys and I took our departure.

Nothing of any consequence occurred during the next fortnight. The Court removed to St. Germain, and the army to Palisseau, but, beyond a skirmish or two, there was no fighting. As usual, however, there were plenty of rumours, and every man had a different story to relate of what was going on. As to Mazarin, he spent his days, and nights too, in writing and reading innumerable notes, and in interviewing mysterious people.

One evening, having for a wonder no duties to perform, I strolled over to the palace for a chat with Humphreys.

"Have you heard the latest news?" he asked, and, as I shook my head, added laughingly, "it is not a rumour but a fact. Turenne has doubled back on Etampes, and has shut up the bulk of the rebels there. It will be a grand stroke if he captures the town."

"Is Conde there?"

"I think not. Most accounts state that he is still in Paris. A lucky thing you took the ladies away; the city, according to some of the Queen's friends who have just crept out, is in a frightful state. The people are up in arms, and the mob is burning and plundering on all sides."

"What is the Duke of Orleans doing?"

"Making up his mind and altering it again; he has no leisure for anything else. Mazarin seems to have been busy lately."

"Spoiling paper! there will be soon none left in the kingdom. While Turenne is fighting, the Cardinal is driving bargains."

"Ah!" exclaimed my comrade scornfully, "the truth is, it is every man for himself and the country can go to the dogs."

About a week after this conversation with Humphreys, M. Belloc ordered me to be at the Cardinal's room at four o'clock the next morning.

"Have your horse ready, and in good trim, as I believe you have a long journey."

"Not as far as Bruhl, I hope?"

"No," said he with a smile; "I think none of us will need to return to Bruhl in a hurry, though it is difficult to prophesy. However, see to your horse, and then get off to bed. The Cardinal will expect you at the very second."

By this time I was well aware of Mazarin's crotchets, and took care to present myself at the proper time. His secretary opened the door, and admitted me into his master's room. Whether Mazarin ever went to bed at this period of his life I cannot say, but he always gave me the impression that he could live without sleep. There he was at four o'clock, in dressing gown and slippers, writing with no sign of weariness whatever.

"Is your horse saddled, M. de Lalande?" he asked, without stopping or taking his eyes from the paper.

"Yes, your Eminence."

"Very good. Here is a little document; put it away safely. It is for Marshal Turenne, and it must be given to him this evening. He is at Etampes, or rather in the neighbourhood. Do not lose the missive, though it is less important than some you have carried."

"Do I return at once, your Eminence?"

"That will depend on Marshal Turenne. You will place yourself under his orders. And now, a prosperous ride to you."

M. Belloc, who had placed my horse in care of a soldier, was waiting outside. He evidently knew the nature of my errand, and, as I mounted, wished me a quick and pleasant journey.

"The country is fairly clear," he said, "and there is not much chance of meeting with an enemy. Still, it will be as well to keep your eyes open."

"I will," said I, thinking of my journey to Bruhl, and of the smooth-spoken Captain Courcy.

There was, however, little cause for alarm, the only soldiers I encountered being King's troops. At Limours, where I intended to stop for an hour or two, the inns were filled with them, and I found some difficulty in getting my horse stabled. The inn at which I at length stopped was the Golden Fleece, and even there every room was occupied.

"I am grieved," exclaimed the innkeeper, a portly man with rubicund face, "but monsieur can have a table for his refreshment, and he will not find the guests objectionable."

Opening a door, he ushered me into an apartment where three men sat. Two of them were evidently in company; the third, rather to my astonishment, was Pillot, who, glancing up at my entrance, rose to greet me.

"You have left Gien then?" I said. "Where is M. Beauchamp?"

"In the camp before Etampes, monsieur. He has recovered from his wounds, and has returned to his squadron. I offered to stay with him a while longer, but he preferred that I should join you."

"When did you leave him?"

"This morning, monsieur."

As there was no need to take Pillot with me, I ordered him to remain at the inn until my return, which would probably be the next day.

"Very well, monsieur," said he pleasantly.

As soon as my horse was sufficiently rested I resumed my journey, telling Pillot he might expect me at any hour of the day or night. I was sorry Raoul had left Gien, though pleased at the prospect of seeing him at Etampes, and, but for the strangeness attending our meeting, I should have entirely passed over the episode of this otherwise uneventful ride.

Marshal Turenne was inspecting the position of a battery when I found him, but he instantly opened and read the Cardinal's note.

"Hum!" said he, knitting his brows, "this is a serious matter, and requires thought. You will remain in the camp until I am ready to furnish his Eminence with an answer. You have friends among my gentlemen?"

"M. Beauchamp is my chief friend, general."

"Ah! I remember you now. I saw you at Blenau and again at Gien. Well, you cannot do better than spend an hour or two with M. Beauchamp," and he directed one of his attendants to conduct me to Raoul's tent.

"Albert!" exclaimed my comrade, jumping up in surprise. "How came you here? Ah! I forgot! You are on the Cardinal's business?"

"Yes, but I met Pillot at Limours, and he told me you had rejoined your squadron. I hope you did not leave Gien too soon?"

"No, I am quite strong again, and I could not lie there doing nothing."

Now, I do not pretend to explain his behaviour at that time, or the mystery which followed; my readers must judge for themselves after I have stated the facts. That something had altered my old comrade very much was plain. He had lost his high spirits, and replied to my sallies with only a half-hearted smile. When I rallied him on this gloomy fit he dismissed the subject hastily, leading me to talk of John Humphreys and what the Court was doing at St. Germain.

I had been with him an hour or a little more when an officer brought word that Marshal Turenne desired to see M. Beauchamp immediately.

"Stay where you are, Albert, and make yourself comfortable," he exclaimed. "It is an order for some piece of special service perhaps; the Marshal is always planning a fresh surprise."

Left alone, I began wondering more than ever at the remarkable change which had come over him. He was as keen as ever to perform his duties, but the quick, bright smile, the joyous laugh, the old boyish merriment had vanished.

"He is weak from his wounds," I thought; "he should have stayed longer at Gien, and let Pillot nurse him. Perhaps he will throw off this gloomy air as he gets stronger."

At the end of half-an-hour he returned, and I concluded by his manner that the Marshal had entrusted him with some important business.

"Another expedition," I said, springing up. "Take care, Raoul, the pitcher may go to the well once too often."

"It matters little, dear friend, but at present there is no need for alarm. Do you know what was in that packet from the Cardinal? Conde has won over the Duke of Lorraine, who is marching on Paris with a large army. Turenne intends to break up his camp and attack the Duke."

"That will be awkward; we shall be placed between two fires."

"Trust to Turenne; he understands his business. A few troops will stay here for a day or two. Meanwhile, we march light; we shall strike our blow at Lorraine, and then the rest of our army will rejoin us."

"Leaving Conde's troops to slip out of Etampes!"

"So much the better; they will be compelled to fight in the open."

"Are you riding with the Marshal?"

"In front of him. He has selected my squadron to scour the country in advance. It will be a change from camp life. Now, I must go; we shall meet again soon."

"I hope so!"

"It is certain," he answered calmly, "the stars have foretold it."

I looked at him in surprise, and said, "You were not used to put your faith in the stars, Raoul!"

"No," he answered, dreamily, "but I have learned much of late. Do you remember the open space before the Porte St. Antoine? It is there we shall meet. I hear the roar of cannon, the rattle of muskets, the hoof-beats of horses, the fierce shouts of struggling men. I see---- Ah well, dear friend, it is not long to wait!"

I tried to detain him, to make him speak more plainly, but he would say nothing further, and, leaving the tent, we walked in silence to the lines farthest from Etampes. Raoul's horsemen were already there, and presently Turenne himself, attended by two officers, rode up. In a few stirring words he addressed the troopers, bidding them justify his choice, and speaking in high terms of their young leader. Then he gave Raoul his final instructions, and my friend pressed my hand in a last grasp.

"_Au revoir!_" said he quietly. "Remember the Porte St. Antoine!"

I stood for a while watching the weird scene as the troopers filed off silently, and in perfect order. Raoul, who had placed himself at their head, was soon out of sight, but I could not banish his strange words from my mind.

"Remember the Porte St. Antoine!" What did he mean? Why had he mentioned that particular spot as the scene of our meeting? What was the strange vision at which he had hinted? Alas! I understood later, but even to this day the manner of his foreknowledge remains a mystery.

"Is that M. de Lalande?"

Starting from my dream, I found it was Marshal Turenne who addressed me, and saluting, I answered his question.

"Come to me at daybreak," he said; "I wish to send a letter by you to Cardinal Mazarin," and he galloped off, the two officers following.

Returning to Raoul's tent--for the troopers had left every thing standing--I lay down, and tried, though unsuccessfully, to sleep. My comrade's mysterious speech haunted me; I could make nothing of it, and it was with a feeling of relief that I saw the day open. Having groomed and fed my horse, I went to the Marshal's tent. The famous soldier had the note written, but he made me stay while his servant prepared a simple breakfast, to which we both sat down. Then, sending a man for my horse, he wished me a safe journey, and I rode from the camp as the troops began to stir.

Pillot was waiting for me at Etampes, and I questioned him closely concerning Raoul.

"It is true that M. Beauchamp has changed much," said he; "I noticed it at Gien."

"Was there any reason for it?"

"Ah, monsieur, it is hard to tell. For a week after you left Gien, M. Beauchamp was bright and cheerful as usual, and planning great things for you and himself. Then, one evening, on going to his room, I found him lying down, fully dressed. He seemed to be asleep."

"Seemed to be?" I interrupted crossly, "could you not make sure?"

"He did not hear me, monsieur, and he did not answer when I spoke, but his eyes were open and bright. Presently, as I stood in a corner of the room, he began talking as if to some person. Then suddenly he sprang up, his face was white, and his eyes stared as if they had seen something dreadful, and he trembled all over. I called his name, and he glanced round in a frightened way as if surprised to find himself in a room."

"Did he make any remark?"

"He said he had been dreaming, and made me take him into the street to clear the cobwebs from his brain. I think the same dream came again afterwards, but he would not speak of it, though once I heard him mutter to himself, 'It was the Porte St. Antoine!'"

"The Porte St. Antoine?" I cried, more astonished than ever; "that is where he declared I should meet him next!"

"There are many strange things for which we cannot account, monsieur!" exclaimed Pillot--a remark which, though true enough, gave me small comfort.

The little man did his best to cheer me, but it was a dreary ride notwithstanding, and he must have been glad when towards evening we reached St. Germain. Having given Mazarin the Marshal's note, and finding the time at my own disposal, I went to seek Humphreys.

"Well, my friend, so you have returned," exclaimed the jovial Englishman. "You look tired and troubled. Is anything wrong?"

"I have seen Raoul."

"That should not have depressed you! So he is back with the army? I thought he would not stay quiet long."

"It is on Raoul's account I am uneasy," I replied, and without more ado, described the change that had come over him, and repeated his mysterious words.

"A bagatelle!" declared Humphreys, "a mere trifle! He has been moping, and has got queer fancies into his head; sick people often do. Think no more of it, that is my advice; in a week he will be laughing at his dreams. The jingle of spurs and the blare of trumpets will soon drive away those notions."

"I am not so certain of that, my friend. Besides, he is not suffering from his wound now; he has recovered his strength."

"Of body, I grant you; and when his mind becomes clearer, these whimseys will vanish like ghosts at cock-crow."

The Englishman seemed so sure, and spoke so confidently, that while in his company I felt half inclined to smile at my childish ideas; but later, in the solitude of my own room, they did not appear so childish. The notion that Raoul was in some danger had disturbed my brain, and several times during the night I awoke with a start, fancying I heard him call my name.