Louise de la Valliere, Alexandre Dumas [smallest ebook reader TXT] 📗

in a most elegant deshabille, but it must be understood that she had changed her dress before she had any idea of being subjected to the emotions now agitating her. She was waiting with the most restless impatience; and Montalais and Manicamp found her standing near the door. At the sound of their approaching footsteps, Madame came forward to meet them.

“Ah!” she said, “at last!”

“Here is M. Manicamp,” replied Montalais.

Manicamp bowed with the greatest respect; Madame signed to Montalais to withdraw, and she immediately obeyed. Madame followed her with her eyes, in silence, until the door closed behind her, and then, turning towards Manicamp, said, “What is the matter?—and is it true, as I am told, Monsieur de Manicamp, that some one is lying wounded in the chateau?”

“Yes, Madame, unfortunately so—Monsieur de Guiche.”

“Yes, Monsieur de Guiche,” repeated the princess. “I had, in fact, heard it rumored, but not confirmed. And so, in truth, it is Monsieur de Guiche who has been thus unfortunate?”

“M. de Guiche himself, Madame.”

“Are you aware, M. de Manicamp,” said the princess, hastily, “that the king has the strongest antipathy to duels?”

“Perfectly so, Madame; but a duel with a wild beast is not answerable.”

“Oh, you will not insult me by supposing that I credit the absurd fable, with what object I cannot tell, respecting M. de Guiche having been wounded by a wild boar. No, no, monsieur; the real truth is known, and, in addition to the inconvenience of his wound, M. de Guiche runs the risk of losing his liberty if not his life.”

“Alas! Madame, I am well aware of that, but what is to be done?”

“You have seen the king?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him how M. de Guiche went to the chase, and how a wild boar rushed forth out of the Bois-Rochin; how M. de Guiche fired at it, and how, in fact, the furious brute dashed at De Guiche, killed his horse, and grievously wounded himself.”

“And the king believed that?”

“Implicitly.”

“Oh, you surprise me, Monsieur de Manicamp; you surprise me very much.”

And Madame walked up and down the room, casting a searching look from time to time at Manicamp, who remained motionless and impassible in the same place. At last she stopped.

“And yet,” she said, “every one here seems unanimous in giving another cause for this wound.”

“What cause, Madame?” said Manicamp; “may I be permitted, without indiscretion, to ask your highness?”

“You ask such a question! You, M. de Guiche’s intimate friend, his confidant, indeed!”

“Oh, Madame! his intimate friend—yes; confidant—no. De Guiche is a man who can keep his own secrets, who has some of his own certainly, but who never breathes a syllable about them. De Guiche is discretion itself, Madame.”

“Very well, then; those secrets which M. de Guiche keeps so scrupulously, I shall have the pleasure of informing you of,” said the princess, almost spitefully; “for the king may possibly question you a second time, and if, on the second occasion, you were to repeat the same story to him, he possibly might not be very well satisfied with it.”

“But, Madame, I think your highness is mistaken with regard to the king. His majesty was perfectly satisfied with me, I assure you.”

“In that case, permit me to assure you, Monsieur de Manicamp, it only proves one thing, which is, that his majesty is very easily satisfied.”

“I think your highness is mistaken in arriving at such an opinion; his majesty is well known not to be contented except with very good reason.”

“And do you suppose that he will thank you for your officious falsehood, when he will learn to-morrow that M. de Guiche had, on behalf of his friend M. de Bragelonne, a quarrel which ended in a hostile meeting?”

“A quarrel on M. de Bragelonne’s account,” said Manicamp, with the most innocent expression in the world; “what does your royal highness do me the honor to tell me?”

“What is there astonishing in that? M. de Guiche is susceptible, irritable, and easily loses his temper.”

“On the contrary, Madame, I know M. de Guiche to be very patient, and never susceptible or irritable except upon very good grounds.”

“But is not friendship a just ground?” said the princess.

“Oh, certainly, Madame; and particularly for a heart like his.”

“Very good; you will not deny, I suppose, that M. de Bragelonne is M. de Guiche’s good friend?”

“A great friend.”

“Well, then, M. de Guiche has taken M. de Bragelonne’s part; and as M. de Bragelonne was absent and could not fight, he fought for him.”

Manicamp began to smile, and moved his head and shoulders very slightly, as much as to say, “Oh, if you will positively have it so—”

“But speak, at all events,” said the princess, out of patience; “speak!”

“I?”

“Of course; it is quite clear you are not of my opinion, and that you have something to say.”

“I have only one thing to say, Madame.”

“Name it!”

“That I do not understand a single word of what you have just been telling me.”

“What!—you do not understand a single word about M. de Guiche’s quarrel with M. de Wardes,” exclaimed the princess, almost out of temper.

Manicamp remained silent.

“A quarrel,” she continued, “which arose out of a conversation scandalous in its tone and purport, and more or less well founded, respecting the virtue of a certain lady.”

“Ah! of a certain lady,—this is quite another thing,” said Manicamp.

“You begin to understand, do you not?”

“Your highness will excuse me, but I dare not—”

“You dare not,” said Madame, exasperated; “very well, then, wait one moment, I will dare.”

“Madame, Madame!” exclaimed Manicamp, as if in great dismay, “be careful of what you are going to say.”

“It would seem, monsieur, that, if I happened to be a man, you would challenge me, notwithstanding his majesty’s edicts, as Monsieur de Guiche challenged M. de Wardes; and that, too, on account of the virtue of Mademoiselle de la Valliere.”