CHAPTER 2
The Messenger.
Mademoiselle de Montalais was right; the young cavalier was
goodly to look upon.
He was a young man of from twenty-four to twenty-five years
of age, tall and slender, wearing gracefully the picturesque
military costume of the period. His large boots contained a
foot which Mademoiselle de Montalais might not have disowned
if she had been transformed into a man. With one of his
delicate but nervous hands he checked his horse in the
middle of the court, and with the other raised his hat,
whose long plumes shaded his at once serious and ingenuous
countenance.
The guards, roused by the steps of the horse, awoke and were
on foot in a minute. The young man waited till one of them
was close to his saddle-bow: then stooping towards him, in a
clear, distinct voice, which was perfectly audible at the
window where the two girls were concealed, "A message for
his royal highness," he said.
"Ah, ah!" cried the soldier. "Officer, a messenger!"
But this brave guard knew very well that no officer would
appear, seeing that the only one who could have appeared
dwelt at the other side of the castle, in an apartment
looking into the gardens. So he hastened to add: "The
officer, monsieur, is on his rounds, but in his absence, M.
de Saint-Remy, the maitre d'hotel shall be informed."
"M. de Saint-Remy?" repeated the cavalier, slightly
blushing.
"Do you know him?"
"Why, yes; but request him, if you please, that my visit be
announced to his royal highness as soon as possible."
"It appears to be pressing," said the guard, as if speaking
to himself, but really in the hope of obtaining an answer.
The messenger made an affirmative sign with his head.
"In that case," said the guard, "I will go and seek the
maitre d'hotel myself."
The young man, in the meantime, dismounted; and whilst the
others were making their remarks upon the fine horse the
cavalier rode, the soldier returned.
"Your pardon, young gentleman; but your name, if you
please?"
"The Vicomte de Bragelonne, on the part of his highness M.
le Prince de Conde."
The soldier made a profound bow, and, as if the name of the
conqueror of Rocroy and Sens had given him wings, he stepped
lightly up the steps leading to the ante-chamber.
M. de Bragelonne had not had time to fasten his horse to the
iron bars of the perron, when M. de Saint-Remy came running,
out of breath, supporting his capacious body with one hand,
whilst with the other he cut the air as a fisherman cleaves
the waves with his oar.
"Ah, Monsieur le Vicomte! You at Blois!" cried he. "Well,
that is a wonder. Good-day to you -- good-day, Monsieur
Raoul."
"I offer you a thousand respects, M. de Saint-Remy."
"How Madame de la Vall -- I mean, how delighted Madame de
Saint-Remy will be to see you! But come in. His royal
highness is at breakfast -- must he be interrupted? Is the
matter serious?"
"Yes, and no, Monsieur de Saint-Remy. A moment's delay,
however, would be disagreeable to his royal highness."
"If that is the case, we will force the consigne, Monsieur
le Vicomte. Come in. Besides, Monsieur is in an excellent
humor to-day. And then you bring news, do you not?"
"Great news, Monsieur de Saint-Remy."
"And good, I presume?"
"Excellent."
"Come quickly, come quickly then!" cried the worthy man,
putting his dress to rights as he went along.
Raoul followed him, hat in hand, and a little disconcerted
at the noise made by his spurs in these immense salons.
As soon as he had disappeared in the interior of the palace,
the window of the court was repeopled, and an animated
whispering betrayed the emotion of the two girls. They soon
appeared to have formed a resolution, for one of the two
faces disappeared from the window. This was the brunette;
the other remained behind the balcony, concealed by the
flowers, watching attentively through the branches the
perron by which M. de Bragelonne had entered the castle.
In the meantime the object of so much laudable curiosity
continued his route, following the steps of the maitre
d'hotel. The noise of quick steps, an odor of wine and
viands, a clinking of crystal and plates, warned them that
they were coming to the end of their course.
The pages, valets and officers, assembled in the office
which led up to the refectory, welcomed the newcomer with
the proverbial politeness of the country; some of them were
acquainted with Raoul, and all knew that he came from Paris.
It might be said that his arrival for a moment suspended the
service. In fact, a page, who was pouring out wine for his
royal highness, on hearing the jingling of spurs in the next
chamber, turned round like a child, without perceiving that
he was continuing to pour out, not into the glass, but upon
the tablecloth.
Madame, who was not so preoccupied as her glorious spouse
was, remarked this distraction of the page.
"Well?" exclaimed she.
"Well!" repeated Monsieur; "what is going on then?"
M. de Saint-Remy, who had just introduced his head through
the doorway, took advantage of the moment.
"Why am I to be disturbed?" said Gaston, helping himself to
a thick slice of one of the largest salmon that had ever
ascended the Loire to be captured between Painboeuf and
Saint-Nazaire.
"There is a messenger from Paris. Oh! but after monseigneur
has breakfasted will do; there is plenty of time."
"From Paris!" cried the prince, letting his fork fall. "A
messenger from Paris, do you say? And on whose part does
this messenger come?"
"On the part of M. le Prince," said the maitre d'hotel
promptly.
Every one knows that the Prince de Conde was so called.
"A messenger from M. le Prince!" said Gaston, with an
inquietude that escaped none of the assistants, and
consequently redoubled the general curiosity.
Monsieur, perhaps, fancied himself brought back again to the
happy times when the opening of a door gave him an emotion,
in which every letter might contain a state secret, -- in
which every message was connected with a dark and
complicated intrigue. Perhaps, likewise, that great name of
M. le Prince expanded itself, beneath the roofs of Blois, to
the proportions of a phantom.
Monsieur pushed away his plate.
"Shall I tell the envoy to wait?" asked M. de Saint-Remy.
A glance from Madame emboldened Gaston, who replied: "No,
no! let him come in at once, on the contrary. A propos, who
is he?"
"A gentleman of this country, M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne."
"Ah, very well! Introduce him, Saint-Remy -- introduce him."
And when he had let fall these words, with his accustomed
gravity, Monsieur turned his eyes, in a certain manner, upon
the people of his suite, so that all, pages, officers, and
equerries, quitted the service, knives and goblets, and made
towards the second chamber a retreat as rapid as it was
disorderly.
This little army had dispersed in two files when Raoul de
Bragelonne, preceded by M. de Saint-Remy, entered the
refectory.
The short interval of solitude which this retreat had left
him, permitted Monsieur the time to assume a diplomatic
countenance. He did not turn round, but waited till the
maitre d'hotel should bring the messenger face to face with
him.
Raoul stopped even with the lower end of the table, so as to
be exactly between Monsieur and Madame. From this place he
made a profound bow to Monsieur and a very humble one to
Madame; then, drawing himself up into military pose, he
waited for Monsieur to address him.
On his part the Prince waited till the doors were
hermetically closed; he would not turn round to ascertain
the fact, as that would have been derogatory to his dignity,
but he listened with all his ears for the noise of the lock,
which would promise him at least an appearance of secrecy.
The doors being closed, Monsieur raised his eyes towards the
vicomte, and said, "It appears that you come from Paris,
monsieur?"
"This minute, monseigneur."
"How is the king?"
"His majesty is in perfect health, monseigneur."
"And my sister-in-law?"
"Her majesty the queen-mother still suffers from the
complaint in her chest, but for the last month she has been
rather better."
"Somebody told me you came on the part of M. le Prince. They
must have been mistaken, surely?"
"No, monseigneur; M. le Prince has charged me to convey this
letter to your royal highness, and I am to wait for an
answer to it."
Raoul had been a little annoyed by this cold and cautious
reception, and his voice insensibly sank to a low key.
The prince forgot that he was the cause of this apparent
mystery, and his fears returned.
He received the letter from the Prince de Conde with a
haggard look, unsealed it as he would have unsealed a
suspicious packet, and in order to read it so that no one
should remark the effects of it upon his countenance, he
turned round.
Madame followed, with an anxiety almost equal to that of the
prince, every maneuver of her august husband.
Raoul, impassible, and a little disengaged by the attention
of his hosts, looked from his place through the open window
at the gardens and the statues which peopled them.
"Well!" cried Monsieur, all at once, with a cheerful smile;
"here is an agreeable surprise, and a charming letter from
M. le Prince. Look, Madame!"
The table was too large to allow the arm of the prince to
reach the hand of Madame; Raoul sprang forward to be their
intermediary, and did it with so good a grace as to procure
a flattering acknowledgment from the princess.
"You know the contents of this letter, no doubt?" said
Gaston to Raoul.
"Yes, monseigneur; M. le Prince at first gave me the message
verbally, but upon reflection his highness took up his pen."
"It is beautiful writing," said Madame, "but I cannot read
it."
"Will you read it to Madame, M. de Bragelonne?" said the
duke.
"Yes, read it, if you please, monsieur."
Raoul began to read, Monsieur giving again all his
attention. The letter was conceived in these terms:
Monseigneur -- The king is about to set out for the
frontiers. You are aware that the marriage of his majesty is
concluded upon. The king has done me the honor to appoint me
his marechal-des-logis for this journey, and as I knew with
what joy his majesty would pass a day at Blois, I venture to
ask your royal highness's permission to mark the house you
inhabit as our quarters. If, however, the suddenness of this
request should create to your royal highness any
embarrassment, I entreat you to say so by the messenger I
send, a gentleman of my suite, M. le Vicomte de Bragelonne.
My itinerary will depend upon your royal highness's
determination, and instead of passing through Blois, we
shall come through Vendome and Romorantin. I venture to hope
that your royal highness will be pleased with my
arrangement, it being the expression of my boundless desire
to make myself agreeable to you."
"Nothing can be more gracious toward us," said Madame, who
had more than once consulted the looks of her husband during
the reading of the letter. "The king here!" exclaimed she,
in a rather louder tone than would have been necessary to
preserve secrecy.
"Monsieur," said his royal highness in his turn, "you will
offer my thanks to M. de Conde, and express to him my
gratitude for the honor he has done me."
Raoul bowed.
"On what day will his majesty arrive?" continued the prince.
"The king, monseigneur, will in all probability arrive this
evening."
"But how, then, could he have known my reply if it had been
in the negative?"
"I was desired, monseigneur, to return in all haste to
Beaugency, to give counter-orders to the courier, who was
himself to go back immediately with counter-orders to M. le
Prince."
"His majesty is at Orleans, then?"
"Much nearer, monseigneur; his majesty must by this time
have arrived at Meung."
"Does the court accompany him?"
"Yes, monseigneur."
"A propos, I forgot to ask you after M. le Cardinal."
"His eminence appears to enjoy good health, monseigneur."
"His nieces accompany him, no doubt?"
"No, monseigneur, his eminence has ordered the
Mesdemoiselles de Mancini to set out for Brouage. They will
follow the left bank of the Loire, while the court will come
by the right."
"What! Mademoiselle Mary de Mancini quit the court in that
manner?" asked Monsieur, his reserve beginning to diminish.
"Mademoiselle Mary de Mancini in particular," replied Raoul
discreetly.
A fugitive smile, an imperceptible vestige of his ancient
spirit of intrigue, shot across the pale face of the prince.
"Thanks, M. de Bragelonne," then said Monsieur. "You would,
perhaps, not be willing to carry M. le Prince the commission
with which I would charge you, and that is, that his
messenger has been very agreeable to me; but I will tell him
so myself."
Raoul bowed his thanks to Monsieur for the honor he had done
him.
Monsieur made a sign to Madame, who struck a bell which was
placed at her right hand; M. de Saint-Remy entered, and the
room was soon filled with people.
"Messieurs," said the prince, "his majesty is about to pay
me the honor of passing a day at Blois; I depend upon the
king, my nephew, not having to repent of the favor he does
my house."
"Vive le Roi!" cried all the officers of the household with
frantic enthusiasm, and M. de Saint-Remy louder than the
rest.
Gaston hung down his head with evident chagrin. He had all
his life been obliged to hear, or rather to undergo this cry
of "Vive le Roi!" which passed over him. For a long time,
being unaccustomed to hear it, his ear had had rest, and now
a younger, more vivacious, and more brilliant royalty rose
up before him, like a new and more painful provocation.
Madame perfectly understood the sufferings of that timid,
gloomy heart; she rose from the table, Monsieur imitated her
mechanically, and all the domestics, with a buzzing like
that of several bee-hives, surrounded Raoul for the purpose
of questioning him.
Madame saw this movement, and called M. de Saint Remy. "This
is not the time for gossiping, but working," said she, with
the tone of an angry housekeeper.
M. de Saint-Remy hastened to break the circle formed by the
officers round Raoul, so that the latter was able to gain
the ante-chamber.
"Care will be taken of that gentleman, I hope," added
Madame, addressing M. de Saint-Remy.
The worthy man immediately hastened after Raoul. "Madame
desires refreshments to be offered to you," said he; "and
there is, besides, a lodging for you in the castle."
"Thanks, M. de Saint-Remy," replied Raoul; "but you know how
anxious I must be to pay my duty to M. le Comte, my father."
"That is true, that is true, Monsieur Raoul; present him, at
the same time, my humble respects, if you please."
Raoul thus once more got rid of the old gentleman, and
pursued his way. As he was passing under the porch, leading
his horse by the bridle, a soft voice called him from the
depths of an obscure path.
"Monsieur Raoul!" said the voice.
The young man turned round, surprised, and saw a dark
complexioned girl, who, with a finger on her lip, held out
her other hand to him. This young lady was an utter
stranger.
