Part 8
Meanwhile Nanon had reflected and realized at a glance the situation in which she was placed if Master Biscarros' supposition were well-founded. In the first place, was it well-founded? and, after all, even if it were, was not Canolles excusable? For what a cruel thing for a gallant fellow like him was this broken appointment! How insulting the espionage of the Duc d'Épernon, and the necessity imposed upon him, Canolles, of looking on, so to speak, at his rival's triumph! Nanon was so deeply in love herself that, attributing this prank to a paroxysm of jealousy, she not only forgave Canolles, but pitied him, and congratulated herself, perhaps, on being loved so well as to have incited him to take this petty revenge upon her. But the evil must be cut off at its root, and the progress of this incipient passion must be checked at all hazards.
At that point, a terrifying thought passed through Nanon's mind, and well-nigh struck her dumb.
Suppose that this meeting between Canolles and the little gentleman was by appointment.
But no; she was mad to think of it, for the little fellow awaited the arrival of a man with moustaches, and was rude to Canolles; perhaps Canolles did not himself detect the stranger's sex until he happened upon the little glove.
No matter! Canolles must be thwarted.
Summoning all her energy, she returned to the duke, who had just dismissed Biscarros, laden with compliments and instructions.
"What a misfortune, monsieur," said she, "that that madcap's folly deprives him of an honor like that you were about to bestow upon him! If he had been here, his future was assured; his absence may ruin everything."
"But," said the duke, "if we find him--"
"No danger of that," rejoined Nanon; "if there's a woman in the case, he will not have returned."
"What would you have me do, my love? Youth is the age of pleasure; he is young, and is amusing himself."
"But," said Nanon, "I am more sensible than he, and it's my opinion that we should interfere a little with his unseasonable amusement."
"Ah! scolding sister!" cried the duke.
"He will take it ill of me at the moment, perhaps; but he will unquestionably thank me for it later."
"Very well; have you a plan? I ask nothing better than to adopt it if you have."
"I have one."
"Tell it me."
"Do you not wish to send him to the queen with urgent intelligence?"
"To be sure; but if he has not returned--"
"Send a messenger after him; and as he is on the road to Paris, it will be so much time gained."
"_Pardieu!_ you are right."
"Leave it to me, and Canolles shall have the order to-night or to-morrow morning. I will answer for it."
"Whom will you send?"
"Do you need Courtauvaux?"
"Not in the least."
"Give him to me, then, and I will send him with my instructions."
"Oh! what a head for a diplomatist! you have a future before you, Nanon."
"May I remain forever under so good a master! that is the height of my ambition," said Nanon, throwing her arm around the old duke's neck, whereat he trembled with delight.
"What a delightful joke to play upon our Celadon!" said she.
"It will be a charming story to tell, my love."
"Upon my word! I should like to go in chase of him myself, to see how he'll receive the messenger."
"Unhappily, or rather happily, that is out of the question, and you must needs remain with me."
"True; but let us lose no time. Write your order, duke, and place Courtauvaux at my disposal."
The duke took a pen and wrote upon a bit of paper these two words:--
"Bordeaux.--No,"
and signed his name.
He then enclosed this laconic despatch in an envelope, on which he wrote the following address:--
"_To her Majesty, Queen Anne of Austria, Regent of France._"
Nanon meanwhile wrote a few lines, which she placed with the other, after showing them to the duke:--
MY DEAR BARON,--The accompanying despatch is for her Majesty the queen, as you see. On your life, carry it to her instantly; the welfare of the kingdom is at stake!
Your loving sister,
NANON.
Nanon had hardly finished the letter, when they heard hurried footsteps at the foot of the stairs, and Courtauvaux ran up quickly and opened the door, with the expansive expression of a bearer of news which he knows to be awaited with impatience.
"Here is Monsieur de Canolles, whom I met within a hundred yards of the house," he said.
The duke uttered an exclamation of good-humored surprise. Nanon turned pale, and darted to the door, muttering,--
"It is written that I shall not escape the meeting."
At that moment a new personage appeared in the doorway, arrayed in a magnificent costume, holding his hat in his hand, and with a most gracious smile upon his lips.
IX.
A thunder-bolt falling at Nanon's feet would certainly have caused her no greater surprise than this unexpected apparition, and would not, in all probability, have extorted from her a more sorrowful exclamation than that which escaped from her mouth involuntarily.
"He?" she cried.
"To be sure, my dear little sister," replied a most affable voice. "But I beg your pardon," added the owner of the voice, as he espied the Duc d'Épernon; "perhaps I intrude."
He bowed to the ground to the governor of Guyenne, who replied with a gracious gesture.
"Cauvignac!" muttered Nanon, but so low that the name was pronounced by her heart rather than by her lips.
"Welcome, Monsieur de Canolles," said the duke, with a most benevolent expression; "your sister and I have done naught but talk of you since last evening, and since last evening we have been most desirous of seeing you."
"Ah! you wished to see me? indeed!" said Cauvignac, turning to Nanon, with a look in which there was an indescribable expression of irony and suspicion.
"Yes," said Nanon; "Monsieur le Duc has been kind enough to express a wish that you should be presented to him."
"Naught save the fear of intruding upon you, monseigneur," said Cauvignac, bowing to the duke, "has prevented me from seeking that honor before this."
"On my word, baron," said the duke, "I admire your delicacy, but I feel bound to reproach you for it."
"Reproach me for my delicacy, monseigneur? Oho!"
"Yes; for if your good sister had not looked out for your interests--"
"Ah!" exclaimed Cauvignac, with an eloquent, reproachful glance at Nanon; "ah! my good sister has looked out for the interests of Monsieur--"
"Her brother," interposed Nanon, hastily; "what could be more natural?"
"And then to-day; to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?"
"True," said Cauvignac; "to what do you owe the pleasure of seeing me, monseigneur?"
"Why, to chance, to mere chance, which led you to return."
"Aha!" said Cauvignac to himself; "it seems that I had gone away."
"Yes, you went away, you bad brother; and without letting me know, except by a word or two, which had no other effect than to increase my anxiety."
"What would you have, dear Nanon? we must make allowances for a man in love," said the duke, with a smile.
"Oho! this is becoming complicated," said Cauvignac; "it seems now that I am in love."
"Come, come," said Nanon, "confess that you are."
"I won't deny it," rejoined Cauvignac, with a meaning smile, seeking to glean from some eye some hint of the truth, to guide him in constructing a lusty lie.
"Very good," said the duke; "but let us breakfast, if you've no objection. You can tell us of your love-affairs as we sit at the table, baron.--Francinette, a cover for Monsieur de Canolles. You haven't breakfasted, captain, I trust?"
"No, monseigneur; and I confess that the fresh morning air has sharpened my appetite prodigiously."
"Say the night air, you rascal," said the duke; "for you have been on the road all night."
"'Faith!" muttered Cauvignac, "the brother-in-law guessed aright there. Very good! I admit it; the night air--"
"In that case," the duke continued, giving his arm to Nanon, and leading the way to the dining-room, followed by Cauvignac, "I trust that you will find here the wherewithal to defeat your appetite, however strongly constituted it may be."
It was the fact that Master Biscarros had outdone himself; the dishes were not numerous, but delicious and exquisitely served. The yellow wine of Guyenne, and the red Burgundy fell from the bottles like golden pearls and cascades of rubies.
Cauvignac ate very heartily.
"The boy handles his knife and fork very cleverly," said the duke. "But you do not eat, Nanon."
"I am no longer hungry, monseigneur."
"Dear sister!" cried Cauvignac; "to think that the pleasure of seeing me has taken away her appetite! Indeed, I can but be grateful to her for loving me so dearly."
"This chicken-wing, Nanon?" said the duke.
"Give it to my brother, monseigneur; give it to my brother," replied Nanon, who saw Cauvignac emptying his plate with terrifying rapidity, and dreaded his raillery after the food had disappeared.
Cauvignac held out his plate with a grateful smile. The duke placed the wing upon the plate, and Cauvignac replaced the plate on the table before him.
"Well, what have you been doing that's worth the telling, Canolles?" said the duke, with a familiarity which seemed to Cauvignac of most hopeful augury. "It is understood that I am not speaking of love-affairs."
"Nay; do speak of them, monseigneur; speak of them," rejoined the younger man, whose tongue was beginning to be unloosed by successive doses of Médoc and Chambertin, and who, moreover, was in a very different situation from those people who borrow a name themselves, in that he had no fear of being interfered with by his double.
"Oh, monseigneur, he's very skilful at raillery," said Nanon.
"In that case, we can place him in the same category with the little gentleman," the duke suggested.
"Yes," said Nanon, "the little gentleman you met last evening."
"Ah! yes, in the road," said Cauvignac.
"And afterwards at Master Biscarros' hôtel," the duke added.
"And afterwards at Master Biscarros' hôtel," assented Cauvignac; "it's true, by my faith."
"Do you mean that you really did meet him?" queried Nanon.
"The little gentleman?"
"Yes."
"What sort of person was he? Tell us frankly," said the duke.
"Egad!" replied Cauvignac; "he was a charming little fellow,--fair and slender and refined, and travelling with a caricature of a squire."
"It's the same man," said Nanon, biting her lips.
"And you are in love with him?"
"With whom?"
"With this same little, fair, slender, refined gentleman."
"Oh, monseigneur!" exclaimed Cauvignac, "what do you mean?"
"Have you still the pearl-gray glove on your heart?"
"The pearl-gray glove?"
"Yes; the one you were smelling and kissing so passionately last evening."
This last phrase removed Cauvignac's perplexity.
"Ah!" he cried, "your little gentleman was a woman, was she? On my word of honor, I suspected as much."
"There can be no doubt now," murmured Nanon.
"Give me some wine, sister mine," said Cauvignac. "I can't imagine who emptied the bottle that stands beside me, but there's nothing in it."
"Go to!" exclaimed the duke; "his complaint can be cured, as his love doesn't interfere with his eating or drinking; and the king's business will not suffer."
"The king's business suffer!" cried Cauvignac. "Never! The king's business first of all! the king's business, is sacred. To his Majesty's health, monseigneur."
"I may rely upon your loyalty, baron?"
"Upon my loyalty to the king?"
"Yes."
"I should say you may rely upon it. I would gladly be drawn and quartered for him--at times."
"Your loyalty is easily understood," said Nanon, fearing that, in his enthusiasm for the Médoc and Chambertin, Cauvignac might forget the part he was playing, and clothe himself in his own individuality.
"Aren't you a captain in his Majesty's service, by virtue of Monsieur le Duc's favor?"
"I shall never forget it!" said Cauvignac, laying his hand, upon his heart, with tearful emotion.
"We will do better, baron; we will do better hereafter," said the duke.
"Thanks, monseigneur, thanks!"
"And we have already begun."
"Indeed!"
"Yes. You are too bashful, my young friend," continued d'Épernon. "When you are in need of anything, you must come to me. Now that there is no need to beat around the bush; now that you are no longer called upon to conceal your identity; now that I know that you are Nanon's brother--"
"Monseigneur," cried Cauvignac, "henceforth I will apply to you in person."
"You promise?"
"I give you my word."
"You will do well. Meanwhile, your sister will explain to you what is to be done now; she has a letter to intrust to you in my behalf. Perhaps your fortune is in the missive which I place in your hands on her recommendation. Follow your sister's advice, young man, follow her advice; she has an active brain, a keen intellect, and a noble heart. Love your sister, baron, and you will be established in my good graces."
"Monseigneur," exclaimed Cauvignac, effusively, "my sister knows how dearly I love her, and that I long for nothing so much as to see her happy, powerful, and--rich."
"Your fervor gratifies me," said the duke; "pray remain with Nanon, while I go hence to have a reckoning with a certain consummate villain. By the way, baron, perhaps you may be able to give me some information concerning the scoundrel."
"Gladly," said Cauvignac. "Only it will be necessary for me to know to what scoundrel you refer, monseigneur; there are many of them, and of every variety in these days."
"You are right; but this one is one of the most brazen-faced it has ever been my lot to fall in with."
"Indeed!"
"Imagine, if you please, that the gallows-bird extorted my signature in blank, in exchange for the letter your sister wrote you yesterday, which he procured by an infamous deed of violence."
"A signature in blank! upon my word! But what interest had you, pray, in possessing the letter of a sister to her brother?"
"Do you forget that I knew nothing of the relationship?"
"Ah! true."
"And I was idiotic enough--you will forgive me, won't you, Nanon?" continued the duke, holding out his hand to the young woman--"I was idiotic enough to be jealous of you!"
"Indeed! jealous of me! Oh! monseigneur, you were very, very wrong!"
"I was about to ask you if you had any suspicion as to the identity of the rascal who played informer?"
"No, not the slightest. But you understand, monseigneur, that such acts do not go unpunished, and some day you will know who did it."
"Oh! yes, certainly I shall know it some day, and I have taken precautions in abundance to that end; but I would have preferred to know it immediately."
"Ah!" rejoined Cauvignac, pricking up his ears; "ah! you say you have taken precautions to that end, monseigneur?"
"Yes, yes! And the villain," continued the duke, "will be very fortunate if my signature in blank doesn't lead to his being hanged."
"Why, how can you distinguish that particular signature from all the other orders you give out, monseigneur?"
"Because I made a private mark upon it."
"A mark?"
"Yes; an invisible mark, which I can render visible with the aid of a chemical process."
"Well, well!" said Cauvignac, "that is certainly a most ingenious device, monseigneur; but you must be careful that he doesn't suspect the trap."
"Oh! there's no danger of that; who do you think is likely to tell him of it?"
"True! true!" replied Cauvignac; "not Nanon, surely, nor I--"
"Nor I," said the duke.
"Nor you. So you are right, monseigneur; you cannot fail to know some day who the man is, and then--"
"Then, as I shall have kept my agreement with him, for he will have obtained whatever he chose to use the signature for, I will have him hanged."
"_Amen!_" said Cauvignac.
"And now," continued the duke, "as you can give me no information concerning the miscreant--"
"No, monseigneur; in very truth, I cannot."
"As I was saying, I will leave you with your sister.--Nanon, give the boy precise instructions, and above all things, see that he loses no time."
"Never fear, monseigneur."
"Adieu to you both."
He waved his hand gracefully to Nanon, bestowed a friendly nod upon her brother, and descended the stairs, saying that he should probably return during the day.
Nanon went with the duke to the head of the stairs.
"_Peste!_" said Cauvignac to himself, "my gallant friend did well to warn me. Ah! he's no such fool as he seems. But what shall I do with his signature? _Dame!_ I'll do what I would do with a note; discount it."
"Now, monsieur," said Nanon, returning, and closing the door behind her, "now let us understand each other."
"My dear little sister," Cauvignac replied, "I came hither for the purpose of having a talk with you; but in order to talk at our ease, we must be seated. Sit you down, therefore, I beg."
As he spoke, he drew a chair near to his own and motioned to Nanon that it was intended for her.
Nanon seated herself with a frown, which augured ill for the harmony of the interview.
"First of all," said she, "why are you not where you should be?"
"Ah! my dear little sister, that is hardly courteous. If I were where I should be, I should not be here, and consequently you would not have the pleasure of seeing me."
"Did you not wish to take orders?"
"No, not I; say rather, that certain persons who are interested in me, notably yourself, wished to force me to take orders; but personally, I have never had a particularly earnest vocation for the Church."
"But you were educated for a religious life?"
"Yes, sister; and I believe I have piously profited by that fact."
"No sacrilege, monsieur; do not joke on sacred subjects."
"I am not joking, dear sister; I am simply stating facts. Look you; you sent me to the Minim brethren at Angoulème to prepare for the priesthood."
"Well?"
"I studied diligently there. I know Greek like Homer, Latin like Cicero, and theology like John Huss. Having nothing more to learn among those worthy monks, I left their establishment, still following out your wishes, and went to the Carmelites at Rouen, to make profession of faith."
"You forget to say that I had promised you a yearly allowance of a hundred pistoles, and that I kept my promise. A hundred pistoles for a Carmelite was more than enough, I should say."
"I don't deny it, my dear sister; but the convent always claimed my allowance on the pretext that I was not yet a Carmelite."
"Even so, did you not, when you consecrated your life to the Church, take a vow of poverty?"
"If I did make such a vow, dear sister, I give you my word that I have faithfully lived up to it; no one was ever poorer than I."
"But how did you leave the convent?"
"Ah! there you are! In the same way that Adam left the earthly paradise; it was knowledge that undid me, sister; I knew too much."
"What's that? you knew too much?"
"Yes. Imagine, if you can, that among the Carmelites, who have not the reputation of being Erasmuses or Descartes, I was looked upon as a prodigy,--of learning, be it understood. The result was that when Monsieur le Duc de Longueville came to Rouen to urge that city to declare in favor of the parliament, I was sent to harangue Monsieur de Longueville; the which I did in such elegant and well-chosen language, that Monsieur de Longueville not only expressed himself as well pleased with my eloquence, but asked me if I would be his secretary. This happened just as I was about to take the vows."
"Yes, I remember; and on the pretext that you were saying farewell to the world, you asked me for a hundred pistoles, which were given into your own hands."
"And they are the only ones I received, on the word of a gentleman!"
"But you were to renounce the world."
"Yes, such was my intention; but such was not the intention of Providence, which probably had other plans for me. It made a different disposition of me through the medium of Monsieur de Longueville; it was not its will that I should remain a monk. I therefore conformed to the will of a merciful Providence, and I am free to say that I do not repent having done so."
"Then you are no longer in the Church?"
"No, not for the moment, at least, my dear sister. I do not dare say that I may not return to it some day; for what man can say to-day what he will do to-morrow? Has not Monsieur de Rancé recently founded the Trappist order? Perhaps I shall follow in his footsteps, and found some new order. But for the moment I have dallied with war, you see, and that has made me profane and impure for some time to come; at the first opportunity I shall purify myself."
"You a fighting man!" exclaimed Nanon, with a shrug.
"Why not? _Dame!_ I won't pretend to say that I am a Dunois, a Duguesclin, a Bayard, a knight without fear and without reproach. No, I am not so vainglorious as to claim that I have not some trifling peccadilloes to be ashamed of, nor will I ask, like the famous condottiere Sforza, what fear is. I am a man, and, as Plautus says: '_Homo sum et nihil humani me alienum puto_;' which means: 'I am a man, and nothing pertaining to mankind is strange to me.' I do know what fear is, therefore, but that does not prevent my being courageous on occasion. I handle a sword or a pistol prettily enough when I am driven to it. But my real bent, my decided vocation, is diplomacy. Unless I am sadly mistaken, my dear Nanon, I am on the way to become a great politician. A fine career is politics; Monsieur de Mazarin will rise very high if he's not hanged. And I am like Monsieur de Mazarin; so that one of my apprehensions, the greatest of them all, in fact, is, that I may be hanged. Fortunately, I have you, dear Nanon, and that gives me great confidence."
"So you are a warrior?"
"And a courtier, too, at need. Ah! my sojourn with Monsieur de Longueville was of the greatest benefit to me."
"What did you learn when you were with him?"
"What one always learns in the service of princes,--to fight, to intrigue, to betray."
"And those accomplishments--"
"Raised me to the very highest position."
"Which you have lost?"
"_Dame!_ Hasn't Monsieur de Condé lost his? A man can't rule events. Dear sister, I, poor creature that I am, have governed Paris."
"You?"
"Yes, I."
"For how long a time?"
"For an hour and three quarters, watch in hand."
"You governed Paris?"
"With despotic power."
"How did that come about?"
"In the simplest way imaginable. You must know that Monsieur le Coadjuteur, Monsieur de Gondy, the Abbé de Gondy---"
"Well?"
"Was absolute master of the city. Well, at that precise moment, I was in the service of Monsieur le Duc d'Elbœuf; he is a Lorraine prince, and one need not be ashamed to belong to him. For the time being, Monsieur d'Elbœuf was at enmity with the coadjutor. So I led an uprising in favor of Monsieur d'Elbœuf, in the course of which I captured--"
"Whom? the coadjutor?"
"No; I shouldn't have known what to do with him, and should have been much embarrassed. I captured his mistress, Mademoiselle de Chevreuse."
"Why, that was a terrible thing to do!" cried Nanon.
"Isn't it a terrible thing that a priest should have a mistress? At all events, that's what I said to myself. My purpose was, therefore, to carry her away, and carry her so far that he would never see her again. I sent word to him of my purpose; but the devil of a man uses arguments one can't resist; he offered me a thousand pistoles."
"Poor woman! to be thus bargained for!"
"Nonsense! on the contrary, she should have been overjoyed, for that proved how dearly Monsieur de Gondy loved her. None but men of the Church are so devoted as all that to their mistresses. I fancy that it's because they are forbidden to have them."
"You are rich, then?"
"Rich?"
"Of course, after all these acts of brigandage."
"Don't speak of it; look you, Nanon, I was most unlucky. Mademoiselle de Chevreuse's maid, whom no one thought of ransoming, and who consequently remained with me, took the money from me."
"I hope that you retained at least the good-will of those in whose interest you acted in putting this affront upon the coadjutor."