Part 12

— I have seen, it is true, M. de Manicamp at Le Havre and on the road, but I took care to be as little inquisitive with him as I had been with de Guiche. Besides, does M. de Manicamp know anything of all this, he who is but a secondary character?

— Eh! my dear vicomte, where do you come from? said the prince; but it is the secondary characters who, on such an occasion, have all the influence, and the proof is that almost everything was brought about through M. de Manicamp's presentation of de Guiche, and de Guiche's of Monsieur.

— Well! my lord, I was completely ignorant of that, said Raoul, and it is news that Your Highness does me the honor of telling me.

— I am willing to believe you, though it is incredible, and besides we shall not have long to wait: here is the flying squadron advancing, as good Queen Catherine used to say. Tudieu! pretty faces!

A troop of young girls was indeed advancing into the hall under the conduct of Mme de Navailles, and we must say, to the honor of Manicamp, that if he had in fact taken the part in this election that the Prince of Condé accorded him, it was a sight calculated to enchant those who, like M. le Prince, were appreciators of every kind of beauty.

A blonde young woman, who might have been twenty to twenty-one years old, and whose great blue eyes emitted dazzling flames as they opened, walked first and was presented first.

— Mlle de Tonnay-Charente, said the old Mme de Navailles to Monsieur.

And Monsieur repeated, bowing to Madame:

— Mlle de Tonnay-Charente.

— Ah! ah! this one seems rather pleasing to me, said M. le Prince, turning toward Raoul… That makes one.

— Indeed, said Raoul, she is pretty, though she has a somewhat haughty air.

— Bah! we know that air, vicomte; in three months she will be tamed; but look, here is another beauty.

— Why, said Raoul, and a beauty known to me, even.

— Mlle Aure de Montalais, said Mme de Navailles.

Name and forename were scrupulously repeated by Monsieur.

— Great God! cried Raoul, fixing startled eyes upon the entrance door.

— What is it? asked the prince, and would it be Mlle Aure de Montalais who makes you cry out such a great God?

— No, my lord, no, answered Raoul, all pale and trembling.

— Then if it is not Mlle Aure de Montalais, it is that charming blonde who follows her. Pretty eyes, faith! a little thin, but much charm.

— Mlle de La Baume Le Blanc de La Vallière, said Mme de Navailles.

At this name, resounding to the very depths of Raoul's heart, a cloud rose from his chest to his eyes.

So that he saw nothing more and heard nothing more; so that M. le Prince, finding in him only a mute echo to his railleries, went off to view more closely the beautiful young girls whom his first glance had already examined in detail.

— Louise here! Louise maid of honor to Madame! murmured Raoul.

And his eyes, which were not enough to convince his reason, wandered from Louise to Montalais.

For the rest, the latter had already shaken off her borrowed timidity, a timidity which was to serve her only at the moment of presentation and for the curtsies.

Mlle de Montalais, from her own little corner, looked with rather bold assurance at all the company, and, having spotted Raoul again, she amused herself with the profound astonishment into which her presence and that of her friend had thrown the poor lover.

That roguish, malicious, mocking eye, which Raoul wished to avoid, and which he kept coming back to question unceasingly, put Raoul to the torture. As for Louise, whether from natural timidity or some other reason of which Raoul could not account, she kept her eyes constantly lowered, and, intimidated? dazzled, her breath short, she withdrew as much as she could to one side, impassive even to the elbow-nudges of Montalais.

All this was for Raoul a veritable enigma, for the key to which the poor vicomte would have given much. But no one was there to give it to him, not even Malicorne, who, a little uneasy at finding himself among so many gentlemen, and quite alarmed by the mocking glances of Montalais, had described a circle, and by degrees had gone to place himself a few paces from M. le Prince, behind the group of maids of honor, almost within earshot of Mlle Aure, a planet around which, a humble satellite, he seemed constrained to gravitate. On coming to himself, Raoul thought he recognized familiar voices to his left.

It was, in fact, de Wardes, de Guiche, and the Chevalier de Lorraine who were talking together.

It is true that they talked so low that one could scarcely hear the breath of their words in the vast hall.

To speak thus from one's place, from the height of one's stature, without bending, without looking at one's interlocutor, was a talent of which the newcomers could not at once attain the sublimity. So these conversations required long study, which, without glances, without undulation of the head, seemed the talk of a group of statues.

Indeed, at the great circles of the king and queens, while Their Majesties spoke and all seemed to listen in religious silence, there were held a good number of these silent colloquies in which flattery was not the dominant note.

But Raoul was one of those skilled in this study of pure etiquette, and, from the movement of the lips, he could often have guessed the sense of the words.

— What is this Montalais? asked de Wardes. What is this La Vallière? What is this province that arrives upon us?

— La Montalais, said the Chevalier de Lorraine, I know her: she is a good girl who will amuse the court. La Vallière is a charming little lame thing.

— Pshaw! said de Wardes.

— Do not scorn her, de Wardes; there are upon lame women some very ingenious Latin axioms, and above all most characteristic ones.

— Gentlemen, gentlemen, said de Guiche, looking at Raoul with uneasiness, a little moderation, I beg of you.

But the count's uneasiness, at least in appearance, was ill-timed.

Raoul had kept the firmest and most indifferent bearing, though he had not lost a word of what had just been said. He seemed to be keeping a register of the insolences and liberties of the two provocateurs, to settle accounts with them when occasion offered.

De Wardes guessed this thought, no doubt, and continued:

— Who are the lovers of these young ladies?

— Of La Montalais? said the chevalier.

— Yes, La Montalais first.

— Well! you? I, de Guiche, whoever will, pardieu!

— And the other?

— Mlle de La Vallière?

— Yes.

— Take care, gentlemen, cried de Guiche, to cut short the chevalier's reply; take care, Madame is listening to us.

Raoul thrust his hand up to the wrist into his doublet and ravaged his chest and his lace.

But just this fierceness which he saw rising against poor women made him take a serious resolution.

“This poor Louise,” said he to himself, “has come here only with an honorable aim and under an honorable protection; but I must know this aim; I must know who protects her.”

And, imitating Malicorne's maneuver, he directed himself toward the group of maids of honor.

Soon the presentation was ended. The king, who had not ceased to look at and admire Madame, then left the reception hall with the two queens.

The Chevalier de Lorraine resumed his place beside Monsieur, and, while accompanying him, slipped into his ear a few drops of that poison he had been amassing for an hour, in looking at new faces and suspecting some hearts of being happy. The king, on leaving, had drawn after him a part of the company; but those who, among the courtiers, made profession of independence or of gallantry, began to approach the ladies. M. le Prince complimented Mlle de Tonnay-Charente. Buckingham paid court to Mme de Chalais and Mme de La Fayette, whom Madame had already distinguished and whom she loved. As for the Count de Guiche, abandoning Monsieur since he could draw near to Madame alone, he was talking eagerly with Mme de Valentinois, his sister, and Mlles de Créquy and de Châtillon.

Amidst all these political or amorous interests, Malicorne wished to seize upon Montalais, but she liked far better to talk with Raoul, were it only to enjoy all his questions and all his surprises.

Raoul had gone straight to Mlle de La Vallière, and had saluted her with the deepest respect.

Seeing which, Louise blushed and stammered; but Montalais hastened to come to her aid.

— Well! said she, here we are, Monsieur le Vicomte.

— I see you well, said Raoul, smiling, and it is precisely concerning your presence that I come to ask you a little explanation.

Malicorne approached with his most charming smile.

— Go away, Monsieur Malicorne, said Montalais. Truly, you are very indiscreet.

Malicorne pinched his lips and stepped two paces backward without saying a single word.

Only, his smile changed expression, and, from being open, became mocking.

— You want an explanation, Monsieur Raoul? asked Montalais.

— Certainly, the thing is worth it, it seems to me; Mlle de La Vallière maid of honor to Madame!

— Why should she not be maid of honor as well as I? asked Montalais.

— Accept my compliments, mesdemoiselles, said Raoul, who thought he perceived that they did not wish to answer him directly.

— You say that in a very complimentary tone, Monsieur le Vicomte.

— I?

— Why, I appeal to Louise.

— M. de Bragelonne perhaps thinks the place is above my condition, said Louise, stammering.

— Oh! not at all, mademoiselle, replied Raoul quickly; you know very well that such is not my feeling; I should not be astonished that you occupied the place of a queen, still more this one. The only thing I wonder at is having learned it only today and by accident.

— Ah! it is true, answered Montalais with her usual thoughtlessness. You understand nothing of that, and indeed you ought to understand nothing of it. M. de Bragelonne had written you four letters, but your mother alone had remained at Blois; it was necessary to avoid those letters falling into her hands; I intercepted them and sent them back to M. Raoul, so that he believed you were at Blois when you were in Paris, and did not know above all that you had risen in dignity.

— What! you had not warned M. Raoul as I had begged you to? cried Louise.

— A fine thing! so that he would practice austerity, so that he would pronounce maxims, so that he would undo what we had taken such pains to do? Ah! certainly not.

— Am I then so severe? asked Raoul.

— Besides, said Montalais, that suited me thus. I was leaving for Paris, you were not there, Louise wept hot tears; interpret that as you will; I begged my protector, he who had got my commission for me, to ask for one for Louise; the commission came. Louise left to order her clothes; I stayed behind, seeing that I had mine; I received your letters, I sent them back to you with a word added which promised you a surprise. Your surprise, my dear sir, there it is; it seems good to me, ask nothing else.

“Come, Monsieur Malicorne, it is time we left these young people together; they have a host of things to say to each other; give me your hand: I hope that is a great honor one does you, Monsieur Malicorne.”

— Pardon, mademoiselle, said Raoul, stopping the mad young girl and giving to his words an intonation whose gravity contrasted with that of Montalais; pardon, but could I know the name of that protector? For if one protects you, mademoiselle, and with every sort of reason…

Raoul bowed:

— … I do not see the same reasons for Mlle de La Vallière to be protected.

— My God! Monsieur Raoul, said Louise naively, the thing is very simple, and I do not see why I should not tell you myself… My protector is M. Malicorne.

Raoul remained a moment stupefied, asking himself if they were making sport of him; then he turned round to interpellate Malicorne.

But the latter was already far off, drawn away as he was by Montalais.

Mlle de La Vallière made a movement to follow her friend; but Raoul detained her with a gentle authority.

— I beg of you, Louise, said he, one word.

— But, Monsieur Raoul, said Louise, all blushing, we are alone… Everyone is gone… They will grow uneasy, come looking for us.

— Fear nothing, said the young man, smiling; neither you nor I are important enough personages for our absence to be noticed.

— But my service, Monsieur Raoul?

— Be tranquil, mademoiselle, I know the customs of the court; your service cannot begin until tomorrow; you have therefore some minutes left, during which you may give me the explanation I am about to have the honor to ask of you.

— How serious you are, Monsieur Raoul! said Louise, all uneasy.

— It is that the circumstance is serious, mademoiselle. Do you listen to me?

— I listen to you; only, Monsieur, I repeat to you, we are quite alone.

— You are right, said Raoul.

And, offering her his hand, he led the young girl into the gallery adjoining the reception hall, and whose windows gave upon the square.

Everyone was crowding at the middle window, which had an outside balcony from which one could see in all their detail the slow preparations for departure.

Raoul opened one of the side windows, and there, alone with Mlle de La Vallière:

— Louise, said he, you know that, from my childhood, I have cherished you as a sister, and that you have been the confidante of all my sorrows, the depositary of all my hopes.

— Yes, answered she very low, yes, Monsieur Raoul, I know that.

— You had the habit, for your part, of showing me the same friendship, the same confidence; why, in this meeting, have you not been my friend? why have you distrusted me? La Vallière answered not.

— I believed that you loved me, said Raoul, whose voice became more and more trembling; I believed that you had consented to all the plans made in common for our happiness, when both of us walked in the great alleys of Cour-Cheverny and under the poplars of the avenue that leads to Blois. You do not answer, Louise?

He broke off.

— Would it be, asked he, scarce breathing, that you no longer love me?

— I do not say that, replied Louise very low.

— Oh! tell me plainly, I beg of you; I have put all the hope of my life in you, I have chosen you for your gentle and simple habits. Do not let yourself be dazzled, Louise, now that you are in the midst of the court, where all that is pure corrupts, where all that is young grows old quickly. Louise, close your ears so as not to hear the words, close your eyes so as not to see the examples, close your lips so as not to breathe the corrupting breaths. Without lies, without windings, Louise, must I believe those words of Mlle de Montalais? Louise, did you come to Paris because I was no longer at Blois?

La Vallière blushed and hid her face in her hands.

— Yes, is it not so, cried Raoul, exalted, yes, it is for that you came? oh! I love you as never I have loved you! Thanks, Louise, for that devotion; but I must take a course to shelter you from all insult, to guard you from all stain. Louise, a maid of honor, at the court of a young princess, in this time of easy morals and inconstant loves, a maid of honor is placed in the center of attacks without any defense; that condition cannot suit you: you must be married to be respected.

— Married?

— Yes.

— My God!

— Here is my hand, Louise, let yours fall into it.

— But your father?

— My father leaves me free.

— However…

— I understand that scruple, Louise; I will consult my father.

— Oh! Monsieur Raoul, reflect, wait.

— To wait is impossible; to reflect, Louise, to reflect, when it is of you! that would be to insult you; your hand, dear Louise, I am master of myself; my father will say yes, I promise you; your hand, do not make me wait thus, answer quickly one word, only one, or else I should believe that, to change you forever, a single step in the palace, a single breath of favor, a single smile of the queens, a single glance of the king sufficed.

Raoul had not uttered that last word than La Vallière became pale as death, no doubt through the fear she had of seeing the young man grow excited.

Also, with a movement rapid as thought, she threw both her hands into those of Raoul.

Then she fled without adding a syllable and disappeared without having looked behind. Raoul felt his body shiver at the contact of that hand. He received the oath as a solemn oath wrested by love from virginal timidity.

Chapter XC — The Consent of Athos

Raoul had left the Palais-Royal with ideas that admitted of no delay in their execution.

He therefore mounted his horse in the courtyard itself and took the road to Blois, while there were being accomplished, with great rejoicing of the courtiers and great desolation of Guiche and Buckingham, the nuptials of Monsieur and the princess of England.

Raoul made haste; in eighteen hours he arrived at Blois. He had prepared on the way his best arguments. Fever too is an argument without reply, and Raoul had fever.

Athos was in his study, adding some pages to his memoirs, when Raoul entered, conducted by Grimaud. The clear-sighted gentleman needed but a glance to recognize something extraordinary in the attitude of his son.

— You seem to me to come upon a matter of consequence, said he, showing a seat to Raoul after having embraced him.

— Yes, Monsieur, answered the young man, and I beseech you to lend me that kindly attention which has never failed me.

— Speak, Raoul.

— Monsieur, here is the fact stripped of all preamble unworthy of a man like you: Mlle de La Vallière is in Paris in the quality of maid of honor to Madame; I have well consulted myself, I love Mlle de La Vallière above all, and it does not suit me to leave her in a post where her reputation, her virtue may be exposed; I therefore desire to marry her, Monsieur, and I come to ask your consent to this marriage.

Athos had kept, during this communication, an absolute silence and reserve.

Raoul had begun his speech with the affectation of coolness, and he had ended by letting appear at each word an emotion most manifest.

Athos fixed upon Bragelonne a deep glance, veiled with a certain sadness.

— Then you have well reflected? asked he.

— Yes, Monsieur.

— It seemed to me I had already told you my sentiment regarding this alliance.

— I know it, Monsieur, answered Raoul very low; but you answered that if I insisted…

— And you insist?

Bragelonne stammered a yes almost unintelligible.

— It must indeed be, Monsieur, continued tranquilly Athos, that your passion is very strong, since, despite my repugnance for this union, you persist in desiring it.

Raoul passed a trembling hand over his brow, wiping thus the sweat that inundated him.

Athos looked at him, and pity descended to the bottom of his heart.

He rose.

— Very well, said he, my personal sentiments, mine, signify nothing, since it is of yours that we speak; you require me, I am at your service. Come, let us see, what do you wish of me?

— Oh! your indulgence, Monsieur, your indulgence first, said Raoul, taking his hands.

— You mistake my feelings for you, Raoul; there is better than that in my heart, replied the count.

Raoul kissed the hand he held, as the most passionate lover might have done.

— Come, come, resumed Athos; say, Raoul, here I am ready, what must be signed?

— Oh! nothing, Monsieur, nothing; only, it would be well that you take the trouble to write to the king, and ask for me of His Majesty, to whom I belong, permission to marry Mlle de La Vallière.

— Good, you have there a good thought, Raoul. Indeed, after me, or rather before me, you have a master; that master is the king; you therefore submit to a double trial, that is loyal.

— Oh! Monsieur!

— I am going this instant to accede to your request, Raoul. The count approached the window; and leaning slightly outside:

— Grimaud! cried he.

Grimaud showed his head through a jasmine arbor he was pruning.

— My horses! continued the count.

— What does that order mean, Monsieur?

— That we leave in two hours.

— For where?

— For Paris.

— How, for Paris! You are coming to Paris?

— Is not the king at Paris?

— Doubtless.

— Well! must we not go there, and have you lost your senses?

— But, Monsieur, said Raoul, almost frightened at this paternal complaisance, I do not ask so great a disturbance, and a simple letter…

— Raoul, you mistake my importance; it is not fitting that a simple gentleman like me write to his king. I wish and I ought to speak to His Majesty. I shall do so. We shall leave together, Raoul.

— Oh! what kindness, Monsieur!

— How do you think His Majesty disposed?

— Toward me, Monsieur?

— Yes.

— Oh! perfectly.

— He told you so?

— From his own mouth.

— On what occasion?

— But upon a recommendation of M. d'Artagnan, I believe, and concerning an affair in La Grève where I had the happiness to draw sword for His Majesty. I have therefore reason to believe, without vanity, myself rather advanced in the mind of His Majesty.

— So much the better!

— But, I beseech you, continued Raoul, keep not with me this seriousness and this reserve, make me not regret having listened to a sentiment stronger than all.

— It is the second time you tell me so, Raoul, that was not necessary; you wish a formality of consent, I give it to you, it is granted, let us speak of it no more. Come see my new plantings, Raoul.

The young man knew that after the expression of a will of the count, there was no room for controversy. He lowered his head and followed his father to the garden. Athos slowly showed him the grafts, the shoots, and the quincunxes.

This tranquillity disconcerted Raoul more and more; the love that filled his heart seemed to him great enough that the world could scarce contain it. How did the heart of Athos remain empty and closed to this influence?

Also Bragelonne, gathering all his forces, suddenly cried:

— Monsieur, it is impossible you have not some reason to reject Mlle de La Vallière, she is so good, so gentle, so pure, that your spirit, full of a supreme wisdom, should appreciate her at her worth. In Heaven's name! is there between you and her family some secret enmity, some hereditary hatred?

— See, Raoul, the beautiful bed of lily-of-the-valley, said Athos, see how shade and moisture suit it, that shade above all of the sycamore leaves, through the notch of which filters the heat and not the flame of the sun.

Raoul stopped, bit his lips; then, feeling the blood rush to his temples:

— Monsieur, said he bravely, an explanation, I beseech you; you cannot forget that your son is a man.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”