Mary Imlay Taylor

“ It was a bare, gloomy place, illumined by only one taper until the priest set the one he carried beside the other on the table. By the window was a young man dressed like a clerk, who rose respectfully as they entered. After setting down his light, the elder man turned and scanned Péron’s face and figure closely; he seemed to be satisfied with his inspection, for his own expression relaxed.
“So you are the cardinal’s messenger?” he said, “a younger man than I looked for; but monsignor makes few mistakes. I am Père Matthieu, and this is my clerk, Paschal Luce. ”

“ To Péron, this house was more beautiful than the Louvre or the Palais des Tournelles in the old Marais, because of the open country about it. To the child, bred in Paris, the green field and waving trees, the slope of the hill-tops, the blooming flower garden, was a setting of perfect beauty. He followed the clockmaker up the successive steps of the terraces, too obedient to lag behind, [64] but gazing about in pleased wonder. He saw the great velvet faces of the pansies, the clustering roses, the more modest violets; he noticed everything that escaped the eye of Jacques des Horloges ”

“ There was a small grille in the upper half of this door, and through this he could dimly see the black outline of the houses across the lane, and above, the far-off glimmer of the stars. It was too dark to see twenty yards away, and the night was very still though it was not yet eight o’clock. The man in command above stairs had told him that the cardinal’s orders were that all shutters should remain tightly closed and no light be shown. This being the case, Péron could not divine how mademoiselle’s presence in the house could be discovered or serve as a decoy for the conspirators. ”

“ THE CARDINAL’S INSTRUCTIONS IN the morning, Péron waited upon the cardinal for his instructions, and they were not only unexpected but also unwelcome. Richelieu was alone when he summoned his musketeer, and was walking up and down the salon; his red robe and cape were edged with fur, and on his breast he wore the broad ribbon and star of the order of Saint Esprit. His face was very pale, but his eyes burned with the fire of his restless spirit; he was in the mood to pursue a purpose with relentless energy. ”

“ IN THE FOREST OF CHANTILLY IT was one o’clock when Péron rode through St. Denis, and a light spring rain was falling; through the mist he saw the blurred lights of the guardhouse and he heard the tolling of the abbey bell. It was dreary enough, and so were his meditations; at the very moment when he seemed to have succeeded, misfortune again assailed him. He had staked his honor and his life upon the mission to Brussels, and he had executed it only to lose all that he had gained by this last trick of fate. ”

“ A warning, at any instant, might defeat the cardinal’s plans. Péron drew his sword and glanced over his shoulder at his followers, who were laughing heartily at the Sieur de Vesson’s discomfiture.
“Close up,” shouted the young commander, “and advance in the king’s name.”
“Not so fast!” cried a man, who seemed to be a servant. “You have assaulted the nephew of M. de Nançay. Gentlemen, I beseech you, aid me in apprehending this insolent soldier.”
“Stand aside,” said Péron, harshly; “think twice before you offer an affront to Cardinal de Richelieu!” ”

“ THE HOUSE AT POISSY WHEN Péron met Choin and his company at the corner of the Rue St. Thomas du Louvre, he had discarded his uniform and wore a dress more becoming to his actual station in life. It was a simple suit of dark blue with a short velvet cloak, and sword, and a hat with plumes, and his collar of rare Flemish lace was one which Madame Michel had produced from the chests in the attic. The change in apparel made a marked one in his appearance, and he looked the man of rank rather than the soldier of fortune. ”

“ In the peaceful depths of the forest it seemed impossible to look for conspirators; the new greens of spring clothed it with beautiful verdure, and on the mossy banks the violets were blooming, recalling to Péron the violets of Nançay and the little golden-haired girl who had tossed him a cluster. Here and there through green arcades he caught glimpses of the lakes of Commelle, and in the distance was the Château de la Loge, built by the mother of St. Louis. ”

“ Père Antoine smiled, laying his hand softly on the child’s curls.
“The likeness to his father grows daily,” he remarked to Jacques; “do you not see it?”
“I try to think it is in my eyes,” rejoined the clockmaker bluntly; “it is like to do him more mischief than good.”
“He is in higher hands than ours,” replied the priest sadly, making a sign as though he blessed the child, before he bade them good-night and went on his solemn errand to the Châtelet. ”

“ It is not the flesh but the spirit that grieves.
He sat with his beautiful hands crossed on his knee and the light of the taper shining softly on his white hair and into his large blue eyes. He thought not only of Françoise de la Douane but of her son, the orphan boy whom he had watched over and trained in all those years on the Rue de la Ferronnerie; he remembered the days of anxiety when he and the three faithful servants had all dreaded Pilâtre de Marsou; he remembered the cardinal’s sharp cross-examination when the boy was taken into his household, and his own doubts and fears ”

“ Can you let me speak the truth? The clockmaker’s boy, the musketeer, and the marquis—all three are one in their love for you.”
“M. le Marquis,” she said proudly, “you say this to me because you pity my condition. I am a friendless orphan, the child of a disgraced father, with only a stained name to bear; I am no longer Renée de Nançay.”
“I told you but now,” he said, “that I would never bear my title except on one condition, and that, mademoiselle, is that you bear it too. [356] Unless you will be the Marquise de Nançay, I will be still Péron the musketeer.” ”

“ THE CARDINAL’S SNARE MORE than an hour had passed in this tedious watch; the stillness without was scarcely greater than the stillness within. Mademoiselle and her woman remained in their quarters, and the soldiers waited indifferently for the outcome. From his post by the front door, Péron again and again looked out at the grille and tried to search the darkness with his anxious eyes, but without result; he was becoming more and more convinced that Mademoiselle de Nançay had in some manner defeated the cardinal’s plans. ”

“ Little Péron was scarcely known to the visitors to the shop, although Jacques Michel had many grand patrons, from the queen to the Prince de Condé. Great ladies came there in their coaches and descended the carriage steps, assisted by liveried footmen, entering the shop with the rustle of marvellous satin and brocade gowns, little velvet cloaks on their shoulders and great ruffs of lace standing up to their ears. They moved about admiring, wondering, criticising; one loved the clock that was inlaid with gold, another wanted only the Valois watch, which was not for sale. ”

“ Péron signed to him to speak lower and to keep his men away. When the two were alone with the body, he drew the fatal ring from the finger of Richelieu’s foe, then he turned to the anxious Italian.
“This is a bad business, Choin,” he said gravely, “and we must hide it until the story is told to the cardinal.”
“Mon Dieu!” cried Choin, “the cardinal is the very devil when a man offends him; I would a thousand times rather face King Louis.”
Péron had been thinking hard; his perplexities increased at every turn, but he had only one sharp anxiety and that was for mademoiselle. ”

“ He had been twenty-four hours in Paris before he recollected the cardinal’s ring, which he had hidden in the lining of his coat, and when he went to look for it, to his surprise, it was not to be found. He remembered that it had escaped the vigilance of M. de Vesson’s searchers, and he could not account for the loss. In his anxiety, he cut the lining entirely away from his coat, but revealed nothing. It was dusk when he made this discovery of his mishap, and he lighted a taper and kneeled on the floor, searching with patience and exhaustive scrutiny every corner and crevice of the room. ”

“ The first long shafts of sunlight made wide avenues of glory through the forest, and there was the merry twittering of birds in every thicket. Péron felt his spirits rise with the day; whatever the outcome of his mission, he had steadily endeavored to do his duty, and he had assuredly accomplished something of importance. Aware now of how nearly Renée de Nançay had defeated his plans, he could not suppress a feeling of curiosity to know how she regarded the turn of events. ”

“ Michel greeted the new-comer with as much cordiality as his wife had shown; and even little Péron ran to draw forward a chair for him, while the cat rubbed himself against his cassock with evident affection. There are some persons to whom all animals turn with instinctive trust and affection, and there is no better sign, as there is no worse than the aversion shown to others. The instinct of an animal is more unerring than human perception: it recognizes both brutes and traitors.
The priest smiled an equal welcome upon all, but there was perplexity in his blue eyes. ”

“ It was the family custom in the evening to gather around the table in the living-room, which was cheerfully lighted with tapers. Madame Michel [31] was always knitting, her needles flying with marvellous celerity, while her eyes were equally alert in observing Péron and M. de Turenne. Jacques des Horloges was a broad-shouldered, stalwart-looking man, a native of Picardy, his rugged face and honest, kindly eye commending him to the observer. He had a powerful build for one of his profession, and looked better suited to bear the sword than to wind the machinery of delicate watches. ”

“ Péron replied; “and though I am not the rich man you take me for, I will pay well for this piece of work.”
Ferré gave him a sharp look. “I see,” he said bluntly, “you are either in mischief or some one else is—good, then, I will shoe the horse. But I care nothing for your money; I do this for old friendship.”
“So you do it, I will not quarrel,” Péron replied, relieved at his success; for Ferré was noted for his stubborn independence, and, at first, it seemed likely that he would do nothing until he was ready to begin his day’s work. ”

“ His host was on his feet in a moment looking at sword and pistols and gathering some necessaries together. Archambault looked on in aggrieved amazement; he had that natural love for gossip that belongs to his class and character.
“What will you do, M. Jehan?” he asked blankly.
“If they go to Brussels to-morrow I go to-night,” Péron replied decisively; “and look you, Archambault, I will give you a letter to Père Antoine, he must go for me to monsignor; I cannot lose an hour, nay, not a minute.”
“You cannot go alone!” Archambault cried, with agitation. “Mère de Dieu! ”

“ As they passed to the right to take the road to Poissy, Péron noticed a man standing near the gates. He looked to be the retainer of some grandee and would not have attracted the young man’s attention except for the pale blue knot on the shoulder of his black cloak. The stranger was staring hard at the party, and Péron gave mademoiselle a quick glance, but she made no sign of seeing the fellow, except to put up her hand to adjust her mask more closely, and Ninon was staring sullenly between her horse’s ears. ”

“ Péron glanced up in amazement, and saw Condé and Cardinal de Richelieu with several others looking down at them. The boy’s face turned scarlet. A storm of applause burst forth at the prince’s approving words, and the victor found himself a hero, while the maître d’armes stood discomfited, fully aware that he had not only been defeated, but had displayed too vicious a temper before his patron. Condé enjoyed the whole situation.
“You are fairly whipped, Choin,” he said, laughing; “you are too excellent a teacher.” ”

“ Choin was not only in a bad temper, but also contemptuous of his adversary’s skill; he forgot how intelligent and apt a pupil he faced. Péron watched him with heaving breast; he looked for defeat, but was determined that he would not be disarmed at the first stroke, as the others always were. He was, of course, no match for the fencer in strength, but he had the activity of a cat and he was not angry; moreover, he was sharply conscious of the gaping interest of the onlookers, in the expectation of his failure. ”

“ When Péron sat down at last, his guest was smiling and complacent, the same round little man who for forty years had catered for and flattered the wealthy coterie of the Marais, and was one of the most famous cooks of Paris. It was said, in the next reign, that Vatel learned his trade from him, as he had learned it of Zamet. His dress was far richer than the young nobleman’s. Péron wore the uniform of monsignor’s guards; the cook wore a suit of black velvet with ruffles of Flemish lace, a chain of gold around his neck, buckles that were gemmed with jewels at his knees and on his shoes. ”

“ Monsieur retorted spitefully.
“And this being a far more serious matter demands a more serious remedy,” replied the cardinal, unmoved. “Is it natural, in making an example, that the most important man in a faction—the one in whose name all the treasonable correspondence is conducted—should be passed over with forgiveness while the lesser ones suffer? In a sense, that was the case when Henri de Montmorency lost his head, but your highness knows that it is not my way. I shall feel it my duty to advise his majesty to administer justice, and justice alone.” ”

“ The Prince de Condé, coming into the shop one day, saw him, noticed his strength and beauty, and offered to receive him into his household to be trained to the profession of arms. This opportunity was joyfully embraced by Jacques des Horloges, who had long been in despair of placing the child as he desired. Père Antoine had trained him well in reading, and he was a fair scribe, but he had had no one to teach him to wield a weapon or ride a horse, and the clockmaker desired to see him a soldier rather than a priest. ”

“ There was no occasion to fear that Péron would offend for lack of interest in what he saw; the boy was amazed and delighted at the beauty and richness of the château’s interior. The floor of the great hall was tessellated, paved with Italian marble, and the balustrade of the main staircase was elaborately carved. While the clockmaker was busily engaged with the old timepiece in the hall, Péron went about softly, peeping in first at one door and [65] then at another, each in turn, giving him such a bewildering vista of beauty and luxury, that the child fancied himself in fairyland. ”

“ Péron’s honest face flamed scarlet and he looked back steadfastly into the priest’s kind eyes.
“Mon père,” he said, with the ingenuous frankness of a boy, “I fear that it is not altogether Christian mercy which has changed my heart.”
Père Antoine smiled.
“Jehan,” he said softly, “love entering into a man’s heart is either its crucifixion or its crown, and sometimes it is both. ”