THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE
 
 

This Edition is strictly limited to 1000 numbered Copies,
500 of which are for America.
 
 

No.
 
 

THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF THE
DUG DE ROQUELAURE WRITTEN
BY HIMSELF NOW FOR THE FIRST
TIME COMPLETELY TRANSLATED
INTO ENGLISH IN FOUR VOLUMES
VOLUME THREE
 
 

PRIVATELY PRINTED
MDCCCXC VII
 
 

CONTENTS
 
 

CHAPTER XXVII

PAGE

How M. de Gondy's amour with Madame de Longueville
ended Continuation of our troubles Louis XIV. will
repair all our misfortunes Let us have patience A
new passion The cheats M. de Guiraudel Tricks at
play Two hundred at piquet Tit for tat Madame
d'Entraguesand Mademoiselle de Gournay The honour
of these ladies A flippancy that I cannot help passing
upon them A quarrel An indiscreet word hurled by a
wife at her husband's head How to redeem the situa-
tion It will be hard An inspiration The silliest means
are often the best Proof in support of that axiom My
conversation with M. de Villevort A very flattering
explanation of a very gross insult Whereby it is shown
that a deceived husband may be the proudest and
happiest man in the world Sleight-of-hand Apologies
An innocent. . I
 
 

CHAPTER XXVIII

The Comte de Bussy-Rabutin A fete at his chateau
Description The play and the ball A surprise The
masquerade An enchanted night A forgotten chapter
in the Histoire Amoureuse des Gaules The fair Greek
Rivalry A gallant quarrel between the Count du
Lude and me Wordy provocations The best explana-
tions are given at the sword's point A swoon The
Marquis de Sevigne Treaty on the field of battle A
strange way of peacemaking We are fooled Du Lude
is more easily consqled than I am Sevigne in good
luck I yield to a curiosity that thoughtful people may
disapprove of The dawn A very strange sight A
love-scene an naturel The thicket Happy Sevigne !

ft
 
 

111',
 
 

Vi CONTENTS

PAGE

have never assisted at such a rare diversion Prudent
meditations upon love Art and nature A parallel
An unexpected development Matters take an ill turn
The dangers of travesties A miserable time Advice to
faithless husbands How poor a figure the seducer cut
My prophecy of the consequences of the affair My
clever retreat without beating of drum or blowing 01
trumpet, in company of Cascarel My confidences with
Madame de Sevigne 24

CHAPTER XXIX

Amende honorable I repair some omissions Looking back
Monsieur's campaign The siege of Mardik The im-
patience of an unemployed soldier I am at last included
in a new undertaking The siege of Bourbourg Mon-
sieur de Rantzau We march upon Courtray The
lengthy resistance encountered at this town Arrival of
the Due d'Enghien Monsieur congratulates me I am
appointed lieutenant-general An excursion to Amster-
dam Dutch fog I look for loveliness in vain I flee
Mezieres An hour at church Abbe Truguet's sermon
Awkward consideration propounded by a hunchback
The Abbe's cleverness My journey to Compiegne
Visit to M. de R* * * The forest The fair traveller A
mad impulse The truth as a compliment Audaces
for tuna juvat A reward What I learned from M.
de R * * * Madame du Hallier Her lawsuit with the
Baron d'Herouville An old lady's amours Challenge
and retort I mean to kill d'Herouville A convincing
reason which prevents me The results of a kiss
Rebellion in the provinces Siege of Bordeaux Attack
on the Faubourg Saint-Severin 54

CHAPTER XXX

Madame de Lesdiguieres We revert to the past A fool! !
What the word means in a woman's mouth Serious
enquiry into the subject Description of M. de Les-
diguicres Self-satisfaction Danger of playing with fire
 
 

CONTENTS Vll

MM

A genuine passion Roses and thorns Discourage-
ments A cruel jest Despair Anger A letter and the
answer Impertinence paid out I abandon the ground
A retreat half in sorrow and half in anger I take refuge
with the Jesuits of Beauvais The Reverend Father
Daniel A new Saint Augustine Religious discussions
that have little to do with my state of mind Pious
recommendations of Father Daniel Jansenius, what
have I to do with thee ? I leave the monastery Con-
sequences of a luckless passion Vagrant follies I take
no more account of my actions Guilty errors . . 79

CHAPTER XXXI

I fall ill A fixed idea Walks at Les Feuillants My love
objects to severe discipline Torments of jealousy A
gleam of hope A torchlight hunt The piqueur The
supposed lackey Madame de Lesdiguieres is queen of
the fete A compliment on my livery A woman between
two admirers Obscure allusions The flight A race
Biran and Rambouillet are conquered A terrible
incident The runaway horse Close to death A provi-
dential rescue Madame de Lesdiguieres and her saviour
The reconciliation All places are good for declaring
oneself in Unexpected progress A. tried friendship
A singular service is demanded of me The private
secretary A trait of heroism Enough to turn one's
head A love message 97

CHAPTER XXXII

A walk by night in the streets of Paris Charamande, forte-
parasol to Cardinal de Richelieu A way of killing time
A night with Ninon Masquerades M. de Segrais,
Mademoiselle's poet The page of Henry II. A saraband
M. de Segrais enamoured A singular taste Is it a
girl or is it a boy? M. de Segrais takes his chance-
Boldness rewarded Mademoiselle Desoeuillets A
madrigal in a plate M. de Rambouillet's joke Piquet
between M. de Choiseul and Bautru Luck M. de
 
 

Vlll CONTENTS

PAGE

Larochefoucauld intervenes A new kind of bet How
Bautru won five hundred louis from M. de Laroche-
foucauld I try to forget my troubles in sleep The
stroke of noon A pleasant surprise . . . . 1 19

CHAPTER XXXIII

What happened to me at a performance of Eurydice The
Chevalier de Ponceville His insolence A challenge A
meeting behind the Innocents A farcical duel How M.
de Ponceville made me travel One foot in the cemetery
A jest in lieu of a thrust A last word about the
Duchesse de Lesdiguieres The true and lamentable
history of the Baroness de Preverenge Sketch of her
husband Genealogist and huntsman What a man may
learn while he is quietly walking among the hills Pierre
Gibaut the spy A trafficker in secrets How De Preve-
renge paid for the services of his majordomo The abyss
The Chevalier de Puy-Robert The obliging husband
A genial repast Tragi-comedy Singular imagination
of a husband in extremities A mistress shared A
favour valued at two hundred ducats A lover shown
out Between husband and wife The refinement of

vengeance 132
 
 

CHAPTER XXXIV

Continuation and close of the history of the Baroness de
Preverenge Disquieting duration of my amour with
Madame de Lesdiguieres The poet N * * *'s little
adventure with Ninon de Lenclos The persistent
rhymester Contest of gallantry How Ninon received
a quatrain by N * * * Whereby it is shown that a poet
is not easily discouraged A fresh quatrain Boldness
rewarded My visit to the convent of the Ursulines at
Lectoure An unexpected meeting An old quarrel A
reconciliation Mademoiselle Valerie de Rocheplate
Intrigues to fathom Certain honest means of keeping
a young lady out of her heritage 164
 
 

CONTENTS IX

CHAPTER XXXV

PAGE

I determine to oppose these disgraceful tricks Serious
results of the adventure Flight, separation, hope de-
stroyed A journey into Switzerland Whither romance
can lead us Siege of Bordeaux I am wounded State
of affairs The Fronde at bay The journey from Reims
Intrigues of the Duke of Saint-Simon against me I
go to Reims as a simple amateur The anointing of
Louis XIV. Appearance in the town of Reims The
holy ampulla The coronation The royal festivities
The cavalcade at Saint-Remy 188

CHAPTER XXXVI

I remain several days at Reims after the king's departure
An unexpected meeting A reminiscence of twenty years
back The recognition Inopportune reflections and
blamable regrets with which the sight of two pretty
children inspire me A simple transition . . . 225

CHAPTER XXXVII

Fanfette's history Her stay with Madame du Hainault A
silent love The Count de Flegeres' window A portrait
of that gentleman A strange declaration Retirement
into an Ursuline convent at Mezieres The postchaise
The box of lozenges The abduction A remembrance
of how I met Fanfette on the road from Mezieres to
Sedan Thierret, the Count de Flegeres' vakt-de-chambrc
Fanfette's return to Reims She believes herself
delivered from her persecutor Her love for the Baron
de Lutz Her marriage is decided on Preparations
The Count de Flegeres appears once more The love-
letter Strange language for a lover A five weeks'
truce The wedding presents The marvellous bouquet
The day before the wedding Fanfette retires for the
night 231

CHAPTER XXXVIII

Conclusion and end of Fanfette's history She contemplates
the heavens to find her star Strange sensations She
 
 

X CONTENTS

PAGE

gets into bed Fanfette's precautions It seems that her
confession will be of a delicate nature I encourage her
She recommences her tale She found it difficult to go
to sleep Of the admirable things she saw in her dream
An enterprising seraph The danger of dreams Day
dissipates not the nocturnal phantoms The late arrival
of Madame du Hainault The surprised lover The leap
from the window Rupture with the Baron de Lutz
Good-bye to happiness for Fanfette She sacrifices her
liberty to her honour Her resolution Her marriage
Her martyrdom Saintly Fanfette 244

CHAPTER XXXIX

History of the Danish doctor, John Kressmer His science,
his studies, his reputation The court and town make
much of him His spirit of research and invention The
dissecting-table A blood-letting Mathias Grafft The
resurrection of Lazarus A private conversation between
a generous doctor and a grateful man who has been
hanged 256

CHAPTER XL

Continuation and end of the history of the Danish doctor,
John Kressmer Whither the passion for science may
lead us Death of John Kressmer Mathias Grafft,
Baron de Carniol . 271

CHAPTER XLI

Behind the convent of the Minimes A woman watches and
follows me Her singular manoeuvres She accosts me
She discloses her object The very original manner of
Mademoiselle Marinette Her interrogatory Am I fond
of dark women ? Do I like fair ones ? A strange
initiation I make no resistance The coach Marinette
bandages my eyes The agreement between Marinette
and myself Whither am I going ? My entrance into
the house which I ought not to see A fairy palace The
mysterious beauty A tete-a-tete such as I have never
 
 

CONTENTS XI

PACK

had before The indescribable beauty of the unknown
A happiness that I had not expected I wonder at my
great good fortune I enjoy my happiness as if I had
really deserved it Strange advice I swear to be dis-
creet The dream vanishes Marinette once more The
eight hundred pistoles We shall meet to-morrow ! . 280

CHAPTER XLII

The appendix to the preceding An interval of two years
A journey to Marseilles The Count de La Baume A
ball I think of fainting Double emotion Struggle
between my wishes and the remembrance of an oath-
Honour wins Virtue is always rewarded A letter
Explanation of the mystery Unheard-of details It is
the truth, though The Countess de Lansac A second
meeting I see Marinette again I am indebted to her
Fresh happiness A silent night A sentimental visit to
a child who resembles me Joys of paternity Its
impenetrable mysteries 306

CHAPTER XLIII

The Chevalier Antoine de Roquelaure His character His
blasphemies He quarrels with the storm He insults
the thunder They want to throw him into the sea He
escapes this peril He is sent to the Bastille I effect his
release His second arrest The Conciergerie The
jailor's wife The generosity of the Chevalier His
purse runs dry The loves of Madame Dumont and the
Chevalier de Roquelaure Disinterestedness A woman's
heart Escape Imprisonment of Madame Dumont
She is set at liberty Convent of Notre-Dame-Bon-
Secours Sister Brigitte and Sister Mandane The devil
himself The Chevalier is melancholy M. de Romain-
ville That nobleman's impiety His death-bed He
sends for the two Roquelaures The cordelier The
holy sacrament An interrupted absolution A con-
fessor in a perilous position The Chevalier's little joke
Romainville's burst of laughter His cure The last
moments of the Chevalier Antoine de Koquelaure . . 317
 
 

XH CONTENTS

CHAPTER XLIV

PAGE

The Chevalier de Sercy His arrival in Paris The Place
Royale His meeting with M. de Montmaur An
officious friend Confidences Offers of service
Presentation of the Chevalier at Madame de Lusignan's
Mademoiselle Marie du Terrail Sudden loves The
ball Sentimental dialogue The Chevalier de Sercy is
the happiest of men They dance till day The
Chevalier thanks Montmaur with effusion The singular
manner with which Montmaur receives his thanks, and a
strange appearance, which would make one doubt the
purity of his intentions A little aside fitly confirms
these fears 336

CHAPTER XLV

The results of the loves of the Chevalier de Sercy with
Mademoiselle Marie du Terrail Visit to the hotel
Lusignan The jokers Sadness of the young Marie
The Chevalier's suspicions Promised revelation of a
secret The rendezvous given by a betrothed to her
future husband The interview Hesitations An
avowal Montmaur's joke is disclosed Stupefaction of
the Chevalier A pretty woman's humble confession
Good advice The Chevalier takes to flight He goes in
search of his friend Montmaur Five o'clock in the
morning The meeting of the joker and the serious
man A little friendly walk on the bank of the Seine
A duel at daybreak Montmaur is punished for his
joke A tragic ending Marion Delorme's melancholy
regrets 357
 
 

SECRET MEMOIRS

OF THE

DUG DE ROQUELAURE
 
 

CHAPTER XXVII

How M. de Gondy's amour with Madame de Longueville ended
Continuation of our troubles Louis XIV. will repair all our
misfortunes Let us have patience A new passion The
cheats M. de Guiraudel Tricks at play Two hundred
at piquet Tit for tat Madame d'Entragues and Made-
moiselle de Gournay The honour of these ladies A
flippancy that I cannot help passing upon them A
quarrel An indiscreet word hurled by a wife at her
husband's head How to redeem the situation It will be
hard An inspiration The silliest means are often the
best Proof in support of that axiom My conversation
with M. de Villevort A very flattering explanation of a
very gross insult Whereby it is shown that a deceived
husband may be the proudest and happiest man in the
world Sleight-of-hand Apologies An innocent.

BUT before I proceed further, I must narrate a little
circumstance which was related to me some days later
by Madame de Bouillon, and which fortifies my opinion
as to the small favour which the suffragan enjoyed
with Madame de Longueville as a suitor, though, as
I have said above, I do not mean to throw the least

VOL. Ill I
 
 

2 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

doubt on the thoroughness of their political connec-
tion. The King, leaving Paris for the second time,
had just proceeded to Saint-Germain to instal himself
there provisionally, and Anne of Austria had pro-
claimed that His Majesty would only return to the
capital when the Parlement left it to hold their sittings
either at Montargis or elsewhere. Madame de Longue-
ville remained in Paris, while the Prince, her brother,
accompanied the King, and she thus showed upon the
occasion, in such wise as could leave no doubt about
the matter, that she dissociated herself from the court.
No one was more delighted at this than Monsieur de
Gondy.

Hereupon, blind in his conceit, the wretched
suffragan supposed that the duchess had only broken
with her kin from love for himself, and this idea,
though it was as grotesque as any ever conceived by
a churchman, made him believe that he could not
show too much forwardness. So he wrote her a letter
wherein he besought her to name a day and hour when
he might visit her and be alone with her.

'Twas a mighty high-handed proposal, to say no
more of it, and Madame de Longueville, being a
woman little likely to come off second best in this
kind of skirmishing, answered him that he might
come on the following day punctually at noon, and
might rest assured he would be satisfied.

Gondy's joy was inexpressible, and as might be
expected, he was not late at the meeting.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 3

Judge of his disappointment when he saw more
than twenty persons in the duchess's salon, among
whom he recognised MM. de Conti, de Beaufort, de la
Mothe, d'Elboeuf, and the famous Madame de
Chevreuse, whose beauty, by-the-way, was notably
on the wane.

The suffragan was deeply angered at his ill-success,
but as he was unwilling to seem put out of counten-
ance, he said to the duchess with great composure :

" Being so early, Madame, I feared I might find
you alone, and so fail of being admitted to your
presence."

" We are alone to all intents," replied Madame de
Longueville meaningly, " for I think I may say there
is no one here who is not devoted, body and soul, to
the interests of the Opposition, or who does not
heartily hate Mazarin. So speak your mind, my dear
Abbe ; my friends have every right to hear what you
have to say to me."

That day was certainly not one to be marked with
a red letter in the amorous suffragan's calendar, and
thenceforward he ceased, so Madame de Bouillon
assured me, to dispute the duchess's favours with
the favoured rival.

Not only were the addresses of M. de Gondy pre-
sumptuous, they were also as ill-timed as possible.
Madame de Longueville had become involved in a
storm which left her no leisure to attend to trifles by
the way, and she was as one of those professional

I 2
 
 

4 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

runners who make straight for their goal and never
lose sight of it. The harsh decree that had been
promulgated against Mazarin, whereby he was de-
clared to be an enemy of the public peace, the King,
and the State, was a great step taken in the path of
rebellion, and it was plain that the Parlement was not
engaged alone upon this course, but had powerful
patrons of its procedure. Madame de Longueville
was well aware of this, and took a pride in making
her salon the headquarters of the new power that
seemed to be arising by the aid of disorder in public
affairs and discontent among the populace.

Her aim in installing herself at the Hotel de Ville
at the same time as the Prince de Conti was to pro-
mote these far-reaching projects.

I shall but mention the events of that memorable
year from memory, nor did aught occur in it of much
concern to me personally. Peace being openly
broken between the Parlement and the Court, appear-
ances were no longer regarded on either side. M. de
Conti was proclaimed Commander-in-Chief of the
troops, and M. de Beaufort returned to Paris in
triumph. Within the town exploits succeeded each
other rapidly. The Bastille was taken, M. de
Broussel was appointed governor of it, and the Prince,
who was still attached to the interests of the young
King, seized in His Majesty's name the important
points of Saint-Cloud, Saint-Denis and Charenton.
As the Parlement-men had scarcely sufficient money
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 5

to furnish forth their soldiery, an idea was suggested
to the suffragan which, though it must have cost him
dear, he yet put into execution, because it flattered
his ruling passion, which, as everyone knows, was a
pride comparable to Satan's. He raised a regiment
at his charges, which first saw service under the
Chevalier de SSvigne, and was soundly beaten, to the
great diversion of the Parlement-men themselves,
who herein showed that, like good Frenchmen, as they
were at heart, they could see their own absurdities
and laugh at them on occasion.

I shall say nothing of what befell at the siege of
Paris, for I was not present thereat, and the whole
story is very well known. The skirmishes in the out-
skirts of the town, some repulses but more successes
to either party, some fine achievements and yet a greater
number of farcical ones, such is, in sum, the record of
that unlucky year. Cardinal Mazarin returned to
Paris in the month of August, and believed himself
firmly established for the future. But the quarrel was
renewed under a thousand different forms, and the
imprisonment of the Princes, resulting from a sort of
compact between the Parlement-men and Mazarin, was
but the beginning of a new series of misfortunes and
disturbances. The triple arrest, which, as the Due
d'Orleans phrased it, was a fine cast of the net which
had caught a lion, a monkey and a fox, unsettled all
and calmed none. The one result was the increase of
force on the side of the Fronde, which cleverly
 
 

6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

availed itself of their Highnesses' resentment to win
them over. The raising of the siege of the be-
leaguered citadel of Havre was the signal for
Mazarin's forced retreat, and he was exiled to
Cologne. Then the civil war recommenced with
greater fury. Conde roused Guienne and Anjou, and
tarnished his glory by asking assistance of the
Spaniards, whom he had so often conquered.

But I will draw a veil over the gloomy picture of
these disorders, the principal inciters whereof were
also victims to them, for I would rather turn my gaze
upon that star now about to arise, bright and clear,
upon the horizon. The time of the King's majority was
drawing near, and as the sun's rays scatter and put to
flight clouds and mists, so the first gleams of this
new reign were already piercing the gloomy night-
time vapours that surrounded us. Men of intelligence
understood that light must sooner or later appear
amid that chaos, and that the glorious hour was
fixed . . . Hope and patience gradually possessed
our hearts. We felt that Louis XIV. would come,
and we were waiting for him.

It was at this time that play became one of my
chief passions. Of course amours were still the
sweetest and the chief business of my life ; but the
days are very long, and some intrigues are so swiftly
brought to a point in boudoirs that a man has much
time to spare, and it is no such easy matter to employ
it well. Bassett and piquet were in high vogue
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 7

then ; and I acquired a celebrity in them which drew
the professed players to make a set at my stakes. In
fact, I had more than once a bone to pick with some
of those clever hands that do not deny themselves the
pleasure of tripping Chance up now and then, and
whose chief talent is to fix good luck by means that
some decent folk would not own to. You must note
that when all is said and done I am not speaking of
thorough tricksters, but of certain rose-water cheats
who think they are doing no so great crime, and
treat as mere humours those passes which, examined
by a severer eye, would be barefaced robberies.

There was a fellow by the name of Guiraudel, a
witty rascal too, who had rounded off his patrimony
by a goodly share conceded to him in the monopoly
of carrying-chairs, and he suffered from this little
fault. This was notorious ; but 'twas usual to take
a hand with him notwithstanding, for he could be
watched, and it is difficult to be fooled if a man is
used to the cards and plays with sufficient attention.
Setting aside this flaw, Guiraudel was a sound player,
and threw his crowns upon the table in a royal
fashion. This is a good quality which must be held
to redeem many peculiarities. I was always inclined
to throw my cards at Belesbal's head, who could not
lose without stamping with his foot or cursing under
his breath.

To come back to Guiraudel, I was with him one
night where there was much good company, at Du
 
 

8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

Gue Bagnols', a man of whom I have spoken else-
where, but who was not at this time the wearisome
and argumentative Jansenist he became afterwards.
The assembly was delightful, and I remember that I
saw Madame de Champlateaux dance the jig there
marvellously. There were merry frolics until mid-
night, when supper was served. After this a great
number of the ladies withdrew, and play was com-
menced. Guiraudel challenged me to piquet, and I
accepted ; a double row of those who meant to wager
was formed about each of us, and the stake, including
the onlookers' money, amounted to three hundred and
fifty pistoles.

We began with trifling play. The winnings were
even, for each of us made from twenty-five to thirty
points. But at the second round Guiraudel, who
no doubt thought matters were moving too slowly,
contrived as follows. It was his turn to count ; he
reckoned up to twenty, then threw down an ace,
and said :

" Twenty-four."

I stopped him, and cried :

" Is it the Port-Royal fashion to reckon so, my
good Guiraudel ? From twenty to twenty-four
might be a reckless leap. Make it twenty-one, if
you please."

Guiraudel, with all composure, recommenced his
reckoning. When he came to the awkward place he
declared three knaves, and said to me in an unctuous
tone :
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE Q

" Is not that perfectly right ? I score twenty-
three and I play twenty-four."

" If that is so, 'tis as good as may be. But just
now there was no talk of knaves and you called
twenty."

" I called twenty-three."

"Truly?"

" I am so sure that I wager on it."

" It would be a hard question to settle. Who is
to be judge ? "

" Besides the stake, I put a hundred pistoles on the
table," said Guiraudel, " and if you take the offer,
I shall appeal not to what my friends may say, but
what your friends say."

" I take it."

" Monsieur de Chatillon, and you, Monsieur de la
Moussaye," continued Guiraudel, addressing those
nearest to me by choice, " did I call twenty-three ? "

" You called twenty."

" You give it that way ? "

" Certainly."

" I am the loser. Here are your hundred pistoles,
Roquelaure."

He paid, as he always did, with a fine manner
and a smile. Then we recommenced the game where
we had left it. At the last trick, judging from the
cards that had been played that the last he held was
the knave of diamonds, I kept the king of the same
suit. . . . Vain precaution ! He played clubs, and
 
 

IO SECRET MEMOIRS OF

I was out. You may imagine what a fool I looked.
I did not see at the moment what such a lesson
meant, and some of those on my side were inclined
to take it ill. But Guiraudel owned he was in the
wrong, and had only meant to make a joke of it.
He even offered, seeing that the thing was ill taken,
to pay as if he had lost, to which the answer was
that this was not sought, and that the turn should
begin again, as if nothing had happened. Having
made this declaration for my own part, I allowed the
wagering to be cancelled for others who had staked,
but for myself asserted that I thought Guiraudel's
trick a fair one, and that I was resolved to hand
over the money to him, leaving myself free to set a
trap for him another time in my own way, and so
bring myself level with him. So I made a show of
forgetting what had just happened, and shuffled the
cards with the most careless and indifferent air ima-
ginable. I merely told him, laughing, that my good
luck would be more propitious to me than his subtlety
had been harmful ; and to show my trust in what I
said, I increased my stake to a hundred louis d'or.
There were about half-a-dozen betting on each side.

As before, the first hand was of no importance,
and the two scores were nearly equal. But the second
hand was more formidable, for Guiraudel scored
fifty-eight. At the third round I had splendid cards,
and kept my opponent in hand up to the last
round. . . .
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE II

At this point Guiraudel came to the crux, for he
had two aces, and which was the right one ? He
turned them down upon the table so that I could
see them, and exclaimed :

"Which shall I keep?"

And as he said this he regarded me closely, hoping
to determine by the direction of my glances which of
the two I feared ... I moved no muscle, but looked
at the ceiling.

He took time to consider. Then, having made
up his mind, he fingered the card he meant to play
without throwing it out. There went a shiver through
me, for he showed an excellent instinct, and my
hundred pounds were where the devil willed . . .
but just then a rare notion came to me ! . . . I put
my foot out softly and quickly, and gently pressed his.

I felt that he took the impression ; and convinced
that one of his backers had given him this kindly
advice, he changed the card and threw out the wrong
ace sharply.

I merely said :

" You lose ! "

And then I put the two hundred louis in my
pocket, and shared out the rest among those who
had wagered.

But as I saw him very dashed and seeking to find
a sign upon the faces that surrounded him which
would betray the officious friend whose good offices
had cost him so dear, I said :
 
 

12 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" What is the matter, my good Guiraudel ? You
look put out ; whence your anxiety ? Are you not
sure you really lost ? "

" Oh yes, oh yes . . . only I should like to
know ..."

" Whence you had the advice that is still tingling
in your foot ? "

" Well, to be frank, yes ; who the devil gave me
such ill advice ? "

" Someone who thought he had no reason to give
you good counsels ; myself."

It was Guiraudel's turn to be out of countenance.
But he made a brave show against ill luck, and as
everybody else laughed at my trick, he made haste
to join in the chorus. It must be owned in fairness
that he had not a word to say. The tolerance I had
shown him was the guarantee of his easy dealing with
me, and if ever there was give and take, it may safely
be said it was on that occasion.

My luck continued in the same vein, and I beat in
succession, at piquet, bassett, and gleek, Bois- Robert,
whom I have already described at the gaming-table,
La Moussaye, who spoiled his best hands by wayward
tricks, and M. de Montausier, who, I think, still
went by the name of the Marquis de Salles, and who,
as is well known, served Moliere as a model for his
Misanthrope. I made a splendid haul (amounting, if
I am not mistaken, to ten thousand louis), and at last
my good luck wearied me. I left the table in sheer
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 13

fatigue, and sought refuge in the first boudoir that I
happened to see open before me.

Two affected women of the worst kind, the Coun-
cillor d'Entragues' wife and Mademoiselle de Gournay,
who had had the droll meeting with Racan, were
playing a game of twelve points with the most eager
air imaginable. As I had nothing better to do, I
made free to accost them, and cried :

" How, ladies, you too ! Why do you not leave
this terrible shortcoming to men ? Women should
never handle cards or dice in their taper fingers."

" But must not we kill time ? " said the councillor's
wife mincingly.

" Life is so long," said Mademoiselle de Gournay,
with the sigh that is peculiar to old maids who have
not yet abandoned the idea of marriage.

" But I do not see your stakes, Mesdames. Have
you lost everything and are reduced to wagering upon
your word of honour ? "

" We stake no money," answered the councillor's
wife, who was one of the chief precieuscs of her time.
" That would be too material. We just make the
stakes out of our honour."

" Oh, that is quite different," said I quite seriously.
" For then you risk nothing. 'Tis more prudent."

Madame d'Entragues, who, with all her laughable
vanity, suspected no malice in jests, paid no heed to
my reply, or rather took it as good sterling opinion.
But Mademoiselle de Gournay looked askance at me.
 
 

14 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

No one can equal an old maid in nosing out a satire,
catching a gibe as it flies, and guessing from half a
word that a compliment is left-handed. In this
respect the acuteness of their organs is prodigious.
I perceived that I had cut Mademoiselle de Gournay
to the quick, and at the risk of passing for ill-mannered,
I pretended not to see that she was opening her mouth
to confound me, and sought refuge in the adjoining
room.

It was an evening of quarrels. About half-an-hour
after this had occurred, I had taken my place again
at a table where they were playing very low, and was
amusing myself by frittering away some small amounts
out of the gains I had won, when a singular movement
going forward in one of the small rooms close at hand
suddenly made me feel that a fresh adventure was
afoot within a pace or two of me. I rose and directed
my steps to the theatre of action ; but ere I reached
it Du Gue Bagnols came to meet me, with his cos-
tume disordered and appearing much wrought upon,
muttering in such a way that he could not be heard
by those whom his words concerned :

" Men at cards are a bad crew . . . but women !
A gambling woman is a fury spewed straight forth
from hell . . . God grant they do not set my house
alight this night ! "

"What is the matter? " I asked him, laughing.
" Are they cheating ? "

" I would to God they were ! "
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 15

" What, 'tis more serious ? "

" They are telling one another the truth."

" And who are guilty of such an outrage on
decent manners ? "

" A pair of imbeciles who are the cause of the
whole trouble. There were six of us at the same
table, and I was banker. It was all going well. But
all of a sudden, over a doubtful trick, Madame d'Aure
and Madame de Meillan fell foul of one another,
disputed, raised their voices, and hurled insults at one
another that would make a market-woman blush."

" One word, my dear Du Gue. Did they call one
another ugly ? "

" I think not."

" I undertake to reconcile them."

11 But that is not all."

" What, there is something more ? "

" The Baron de Villevort took Madame de
Meillan's part, so his wife, from love of contradiction,
pretended to side with the Marquis de Flers, who had
been wagering in Madame d'Aure's favour ; till Ville-
vort, getting exasperated, set light to the fuse by
calling his wife a coquette."

" Well, there is a rare calamity ! "

" Oh, it would be nothing if his wife had not
taken the challenge, and retorted by calling her hus-
band . . ."

" Well, what ? "

" Cuckold."
 
 

l6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" Oh, that is more grave. How does the quarrel
stand now ? "

"At such a pitch that I escaped, to avoid the
bespattering . . . but look, here they all come."

The stream of angry folk was in fact bearing down
upon us. A considerable detachment of inquisitive
people had increased it out of all proportion, and it
might have been a tumult swelling by degrees. The
two women who had originated the quarrel were each
surrounded by a devoted group, in presence of which
they abandoned themselves to a very similar display ;
for the one seemed on the point of being taken ill, and
the other seemed on the verge of terrible hysterics ;
but both were in excellent health. Some prudent
friends were using their efforts to keep M. de Flers
away from the Baron, who, for that matter, was shout-
ing far beyond any intentions he had of action. As
for Madame de Villevort, her abashed air made a strong
contrast to the animation of all the faces around her.

I had often seen her, and had reason to think my
character was not distasteful to her. She knew that
though I made profession of being firm enough in
those matters that require to be gravely settled, I had
more than once shown myself an apt and conciliatory
peacemaker in the calming of unreasonable storms.
So she freed herself from three or four officious friends,
who were no doubt wearying her by commonplace con-
solations, and came and took me by the arm, saying
with an accent of genuine feeling :
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 17

" Monsieur de Roquelaure, you have some influ-
ence on my husband's mind. He boths esteems and
likes you. You must find some means of pacifying
him and reconciling me with him."

" Why, I should ask nothing better. But if it is
true, as Du Gue Bagnols told me, that you called him
a ..."

" I was wrong, I own."

" 'Tis certain," I replied in a low voice, " that
those things may be thought of ... and even be
done . . . but they are never mentioned."

While we were thus speaking Madame de Villevort
had returned to the apartment wherein the scene had
taken place, which was now wholly deserted. There,
feeling herself freer and less perturbed, she sank upon
a sofa, and resumed in a despairing tone, which evoked
my compassion :

" I know him. His imagination will carry him
beyond all bounds. He will proceed to conjectures
and suppositions . . . and very possibly he will
suspect me ! "

A pause of a few minutes permitted of her recover-
ing from this keen alarm, and she continued, almost
venturing to smile :

" Can anyone understand how I myself can have
been so foolish as to ... put such ideas into his
head ? "

While the Baronne de Villevort was thus lament-
ing her plight, I was seeking some means of rescuing

VOL. Ill 2
 
 

18 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

her from the dangerous pass to which her imprudence
had brought her. An idea occurred to me. Whether
or no it would succeed I would not have affirmed at
the moment when it arose in my mind. However, I
was resolved to try it.

" You fear," said I to Madame de Villevort, " that
your husband's imagination may be too active, and
that he may seriously accept the order of domestic
chivalry you have accorded him ? "

" I am horribly afraid of it."

" Reassure yourself. He will think no more of it
to-morrow."

" Really ? "

" Better than that. He will ask pardon of you on
his knees."

" He will ! What am I to do ? "

" Nothing ! I have had an explanation with you,
and I am going to have one with him. All you need
know is that you are quite innocent of that liveliness
of which he thinks you guilty, and that you do not
even know the meaning of the word you so imprudently
uttered."

" But he will never believe . . ."

" He will believe anything. . . . Faith rules the
world."

" But why," replied the Baronne, "not tell me . . ."

"The stratagem I mean to use? That would
imperil its success. You shall know it when it has
succeeded. Remain here, and do not move. I shall
be quick and shall return soon."
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE ig

The storm had abated in part during our absence.
Madame de Meillan had left, and Madame d'Aure
was preparing to follow her good example, while the
Marquis de Flers, who had offered to serve as her
escort, was attending in a kind of marital way to the
last touches of her toilette. The only visible traces
had been left by Madame de Villevort's poisoned
arrow. The Baron was surrounded by two or three
men and as many women, the latter laughing in their
sleeves while they affected to condole with him, and
he was breathing fire and fury, and threatening to
have recourse to the Parlement. Being told that the
Parlement had not the necessary powers to do him
justice, he declared aloud that if need were he would
undertake a journey to Rome, and ask the Holy
Father in person to annul his marriage. To be able
to conceive clearly how droll and strange our man's face
appeared, it must be remembered that he was usually
the most placid fellow in the world and the most care-
ful of his peace of mind. So he was in an exceptional
state, perturbed from head to feet, and to his ugliness
(for he was ugly into the bargain) was now added
a displeasing display of sweat trickling in big drops
from his hair and his two eyes were starting from
their sockets to such an extent as to cause alarm for
their safety. I understood at once that the poor
Baron needed cooling, and prepared to apply the
remedy to his head. For there it was that his mis-
fortune stuck.

" Villevort, two words with you."

2 2
 
 

20 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" With me, Roquelaure ? "

"Yes, with you."

" At your service."

" We must be quite alone."

" Very well. Excuse me, my friends. Ladies,
will you kindly permit me ..."

They stood aside. Villevort followed me, and
when we had withdrawn into a corner, where no
one could see us, I looked him straight in the face
and said:

" Villevort, do you know you are a great fool ? "

" How ? do you mean that ? "

" Why, thus, that you do not know your own
happiness."

" "Tis a well-chosen moment to rally me, Roque-
laure. . . . My happiness ! So you are in a mood
for mirth ! How am I happy ? "

" How ? Upon my soul I pity you. How ?
Odsbody, in having a wife you are not worthy of."

" Thanks, indeed."

" A wife I wish I could find the like of."

" I wish you the pleasure," said the Baron, be-
coming angered.

" A unique wife," said I. " Innocent as a dove,
pure as air, chaste as a girl who takes the vow."

"You make a rare show of her," cried Villevort,
goggling with his eyes in the most tempestuous
fashion. " A chaste wife, indeed, to call her husband
a . . .''
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 21

"Just so. That is her best excuse."

" No, damme, 'tis too much."

"Impelled by the friendship I bear you." I con-
tinued, without taking heed of Villevort's interruptions,
"and sincerely afflicted about so inopportune a wrangle
between your wife and you, I sought her out, took her
aside, and then with tears in my eyes and my hand
upon my heart, I adjured her to tell me if the word
attributed to her had really passed her lips."

"If it passed her lips ! " said the Baron, clenching
his fists.

" Whereupon she answered with that sweet and
convincing accent that you know so well, Villevort :
' Mon Dieu ! why should not I admit the truth, and
what so great harm have I done ? Unless I am mis-
taken my husband is so angry at the word cuckold !
If I had known it was likely to vex him, I would
certainly have restrained my tongue, but he had just
called me coquette . . . and . . . tell me, Monsieur de
Roquelaure, is not cuckold merely the masculine of
coquette ? ' "

During this little tirade I had imitated the simple
tone of a village ingenue, and I saw that my good
Villevort, though he sheltered himself at first behind
his Picardy incredulity (he was from Amiens), was
eager enough to be convinced, and would only
advance some feeble objections for form's sake.

" Tis scarce credible," he murmured in a low,
muffled voice, swallowing his words.
 
 

22 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" You would not say that, my dear Villevort, if
you had heard her. As for me, I was so convinced
of the good faith of her question that I thought best
not to answer it. I left her still in doubt, and if you
take my advice you will do the same. A woman who
does not know the meaning of such a word is a
treasure."

" An angel," commented the Baron, whose marital
pride was flattered.

" Amen," thought I ; " the trick is done."

"My friend," resumed Villevort, "do me a
service."

" Willingly."

" Bring me to my wife."

" That is easily done."

" I count on you to win me my pardon."

" I can guarantee it for you."

I took him into the apartment where his wife was
anxiously awaiting the result of our interview, and
reflecting in the most serious way possible on the
terrible effects that may spring from a word out of
season. At sight of her husband her face fell ; but
on a sign that I made, and on noting Villevort's
nervous and awkward demeanour, she guessed that
I had won her cause for her, and that the roles were
changed. The Baron, in fact, threw himself at her
feet and asked pardon for the public outrage to which
he had dared to subject her.

" Rise," said the lady majestically. " I pardon
you."
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 23

When I considered that this touching reconcilia-
tion was my work, I nearly yielded to burlesque
emotion. I might even have gone so far as to shed
a few tears, but happily Du Gue Bagnols came and
reminded us that supper was getting cold. I own
that so many and diverse experiences had made me
feel an empty stomach, and I had need of this bracing
conclusion. At table I took a place near to the
Baronne, who, by way of showing her gratitude,
furtively pressed my hand, and assured me that I
had wrought a very miracle of harmless magic. She
was anxious that I should give her the key to the
mystery, but I had a fear of Villevort's ears, and
bade her be patient till the next day.

" You shall know what took place," I whispered
to her ; " but come ... in true justice, do I not
deserve a recompense ? "

" We will talk about it," said she, beginning to
laugh.

Then she added, in a more discreet tone, directing
my attention, by her glance, to Villevort, who was
seated opposite to her :

" Come punctually at mid-day . . . he is always
out at that time."

What does the reader think ? It was not such a
clumsy precaution for an innocent of my making.
 
 

24 SECRET MEMOIRS OF
 
 

CHAPTER XXVIII

The Comte de Bussy-Rabutin A fete at his chateau Descrip-
tion The play and the ball A surprise The masquerade
An enchanted night A forgotten chapter in the Histoire
Amoureuse des Gaules The fair Greek Rivalry A gallant
quarrel between the Count du Lude and me Wordy provo-
cations The best explanations are given at the sword's
point A swoon The Marquis de Sevigne Treaty on the
field of battle A strange way of peacemaking We are fooled
Du Lude is more easily consoled than I am Sevigne in good
luck I yield to a curiosity that thoughtful people may dis-
approve of The dawn A very strange sight A love-scene
au naturel The thicket Happy Sevigne ! I have never
assisted at such a rare diversion Prudent meditations upon
love Art and nature A parallel An unexpected develop-
ment Matters take an ill turn The dangers of travesties A
miserable time Advice to faithless husbands How poor a
figure the seducer cut My prophecy of the consequencA of
the affair My clever retreat without beating of drum or
blowing of trumpet, in company of Cascarel My confidences
with Madame de Sevigne.

I SHALL always recall with pleasure the friendship
I formed at this time with the Comte de Bussy-Rabutin,
one of the most comely and amiable gentlemen who
had ever appeared at court. At the time when he was
enamoured of Madame de Montglas he gave a charming
fete, at which I was present, and which afforded oppor-
tunity for many adventures such as deserve to find a
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAUKE 25

place in this authentic history. Among other things
I there witnessed a singular occurrence which, I
believe, has never been made known, seeing that I
surprised the secret, and therefore thought myself
under an obligation to be silent ; but even silence has
limits, and the itch to tell what one has seen or heard
is so strongly inherent in human nature that it rarely
happens a man can keep silence for ever. Besides,
many years have now passed between that day and
this on which I take up my pen to write, and everyone
knows that time dulls many susceptibilities and gives
authority for a great deal of licence.

So it was at the Comte de Bussy's chateau.

He had just obtained his grade of major-general in
the cavalry, and the pretext for the fete was his obli-
gation to join the army shortly. That pretext served
for the fools and the gossips, but some of his friends,
and I was one of them, knew very well that this great
expense was in honour of Madame de Montglas, a
woman of lively and caustic wit, whose beauty was
much in vogue then, and was made the subject of a
facetious portrait done to perfection by Bussy himself
in that audacious book which occasioned his being
sent to the Bastille.

Never had a fete appeared to me more brilliant or
better appointed ; it took place half within the
chateau, and half in the park, and I do not think
I ever saw, even at court, a more complete or better
disposed choice of pleasures and attractions. The
 
 

26 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

wood was full of little orchestras which played
melodies one after the other, so that it seemed as if
the wood were enchanted, or that we were on that
famous promontory of Lucania, whence the sirens,
despairing that they had not seduced Ulysses and
his companions, as they say, threw themselves into
the sea. At the end of two alleys which led from the
court of the chateau there was a large round clump
of trees, to the branches of which a hundred cut-glass
candelabra had been attached ; to the right a magnifi-
cent theatre had been erected, the decorations of
which were in accord with the splendid illumination
which lighted it, and the thousand candles that had
been symmetrically hung on the branches shed so
bright a light on the turf as to dazzle the eyes. The
arrangement of these lights showed much under-
standing on the part of the chief contriver of them,
for after this fair circle, so brightly and clearly
illumined, the groves of trees seemed altogether dark,
and as if they invited those who were walking there
to mysterious confidences. The actors of the Hotel
de Bourgogne, who had obtained leave to come and
give a play there, performed their part like folk who
know their business and love it, and after this, when
the fiddles gave the signal for the corantos and
brawls, each of us sought as partner she whose
favours he was openly or secretly soliciting, and the
merriest melee that ever was seen was started at
several points at once.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 27

But another surprise awaited us. About midnight,
as nearly as might be, and close upon an hour after
the play had concluded amid the applause of the
audience, we heard a hum of voices from afar, in the
direction of the chief entrance to the chateau. Who
is coming now ? Who would arrive so late ? These
were the questions asked confusedly on all sides. But
no response followed as their echo. Bussy-Rabutin
himself, when asked by Mesdames de Montglas,
d'Olonne and de Precy, who surrounded him as if
they would have danced a chain about him, Bussy-
Rabutin, I say, affected to know nothing, and called
his gods to witness that he did not know what it
meant. He even pretended that he felt some anxiety
about it, seeing that now and again in his life he had
incurred the ill-will of influential personages, and would
not be surprised if they had come to take him and lead
him away into exile an assertion that was rendered
less absurd in that precedents of the sort were not
lacking, and there had been no hesitation about sending
M. de Bassompierre to the Bastille and the Princes
themselves to the fort at Vincennes. No one took
this joke seriously, but such careful reticence redoubled
our impatience and curiosity, which expressed itself in
outcry, wherein it will easily be believed that the voices
of the ladies drowned our own. We hurried in a mass
to meet the new comers, and perceived by the light of
the torches which many valets in various liveries were
gaily flourishing, a most brilliant masquerade, com-
 
 

28 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

posed for the most part of women admirably disguised,
of whom not a single one was recognised by us, thanks
to the black velvet masks with which they had con-
cealed their features.

From the reception that Bussy accorded them we
immediately understood that it was a contrived hit, or
in other words, a plan of the master of the fete to
revive our zest at the very moment when some slight
loss of its ardour and vivacity might be feared. It
would be hard to give an idea of the transports with
which the masquerade was received on its entrance
into the park. The arrival of this merry band had
just the effect of an unexpected reinforcement of fresh
troops in the midst of a sharp engagement. There was
but a little time spent in exchanging some gallant or
satirical phrases, according as the person addressed
wore a petticoat or a sword, and then the general
merriment began anew.

The sound of the fiddles, the light of the candles,
and those furtive contacts which the dance permits,
together with those sprightly, mischievous whispers
that pass from ear to ear, are inflammable elements
that will not fail to kindle a whole assembly, especially
if it be composed of gentlemen prone to amours and of
ladies as coquettish as they are witty, educated in
gallantry at the court of France, the richly endowed
home of all fairest aspirations, all most charming
caprices, and all tenderest passions. All Bussy's guests
fell subject to the same influence, and in less than an
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 2Q

hour order was evolved from the chaos, that is to say
that choices were made, relations established and
preferences shown with a sort of wild temerity that
certainly did more credit to our frankness than to our
prudence. In all directions couples were to be seen
in tender proximity, disappearing among the shadows ;
the conversations, begun in the frivolous and lively
tones of gallantry, were ended in the distance, in the
glades, amid the foliage, and the sound of voices
gradually grew fainter, as the sound of a wave dies
upon the strand. A supper royally served gave the
final fillip to our minds and the coup de grace to our
prudence. A kind of possession seemed to settle
upon the whole company, and between ourselves it
would have been very strange if I, alone among my
friends, had assumed, contrary to my wont, the
manners of a candidate for priesthood or the atti-
tude of a Cato. I could not but take my part in this
rare harmony, and I did so cordially, as will now
appear.

I had taken my place at table close to an adorable
creature, whose face indeed I could not see, but she
was so well made that a man might deal with her
on trust.

So far I could only discern her complexion,
which was as white and beautiful as possible; and
her bust, of a rare shapeliness, was so supply set
that in comparison with her a pliant sapling would
have seemed a mere iron peg. Withal she had a
 
 

3O SECRET MEMOIRS OF

noble and majestic air ; her dress, tastefully com-
posed and admirably designed to set off her shape,
was that of the Greek women in the time of the
Byzantine Empire; her hair, the tresses of which
were confined by a slight net, was of a most charm-
ing fair colour ; her light blue bodice and skirt were
made of one of those costly Asiatic stuffs which
drape a well-developed form admirably, and show in
excellent relief the ornamentation in gold and pearls
with which they are embroidered here and there. As
for her conversation, it was a continuous flow of
clever sayings and brilliant observations ; a prude
might have held that for a woman of quality, she
was too free ; but in the eyes of the people of fashion
the agreeable sallies of her wit, wherein she showed
marvellous resource, sufficed to excuse the sportiveness
which was natural to her and which she could but have
suppressed at the sacrifice of her choicest attributes.

I pressed her closely, and was already forming
some pretty hopes, when I made a discovery that
went to my heart and aroused my vexation. My
Athenian or Cypriot as you will was a coquette,
and after two or three observant glances furtively cast
upon her neighbour on the left hand, I plainly perceived
that the same hour which had brought me so eager a
passion had brought me a rival. Well, though I had
no other cause of ill-will against this rival, who was
the Comte du Lude, I fell into a violent rage with him,
and thought that the whole matter might lead to a bad
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 3!

end. So I redoubled my solicitous attentions to the
fair one who had made a clean sweep of our hearts,
hoping thus to have the better of the Count, who for
that matter was a well-built fellow and not without
elegance, though at that instant when I should, per-
haps, have been careful to clear myself of prejudices,
he appeared to me far more displeasing and hard to
tolerate than he really was.

The Count noticed what game I was playing, and I
got from him as good as I gave. If I tried to whisper
a compliment in my pretty companion's ear, he took
care to cut it off half finished by making her lean
towards him ; if I offered to help her to any dish that
had been placed upon the table, he hurried to hand her
another, so that sometimes she knew not to which of
us she should attend, and refused both. And yet I
thought, for our vanity will trick us, that she preferred
me. . . . My knee, in tender proximity to hers, was
swayed sometimes by one of those light voluptuous
pressures which ravish with a foretaste of heavenly
delights ; her smile, when she turned towards me,
was full of the sweetest promises ; two or three
phrases, of the kind that tell so little yet mean so
much, had brought me in succession courage, ardour
and hope. . . . Could I in conscience suppose that
she granted the same to the Comte du Lude, and
made an equal distribution of her favours to right
and left ? Were her two eyes being used to light
two conflagrations at the same time, and was she
 
 

32 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

carrying temerity to the point of according two
pledges at once ? I was unwilling to believe it, for
it would have been an insult to her and would have
caused despair in me.

However, as I still felt some doubts about it, I
meant to put it to a final proof, and boldly crossed
the Rubicon. I beg that I may be forgiven this
lofty allusion in respect of a very simple fact. The
truth is that I took my fair Athenian's bare arm, and
without otherwise asking leave, imprinted a long and
chaste kiss upon it.

M. du Lude was in no mood to be behindhand
with me. I had appropriated her right arm ; he took
possession of the left, and followed my example
exactly, saying :

" Let us raise no jealousy ; here are two arms
that have the right to the same adoration and the
same honours."

I was not so much annoyed with the Count's pre-
sumption as with the cool way in which our pretty
masquerader allowed his liberties; so I took advan-
tage of the repast being finished to say to her :

" Then for the like reason that you have two hands,
fair lady, would you not need two cavaliers to escort
you to the park ? "

She was preparing her reply.

" Why not," interrupted the Comte du Lude, whose
tone grew more and more irritating, " a clever woman,
if she wishes to thwart prying folk, should almost
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 33

always have two men at her side, one on the left for
whom her heart beats, and one on the right to carry
her breviary or her fan."

" Very well, my dear Count," I replied, restraining
my anger with difficulty ; " and we have now to learn
which of us shall occupy the better of the two
places. . . . "Pis one of two things : either the lady
must give it, or we must carry it by assault. . . . Do
you not agree with me ? "

It is to be noted that at this moment Du Lude was
on her left.

" Oh, my good friend," cried he, " what kind of
notions do you show, and where have you learned such
a way of acting ? To make the lady humble her glory
in the eyes of one of us or else subject her to all the
trouble of a siege in due form ! Why, your plan, let
me tell you, is that of a simpleton ... or a boor.
You have not considered it . . ."

" I attach so much consideration to it, my dear
Count, that I am resolved to have an explanation on
the point with the lady forthwith, an explanation that I
will extend to you in due time and place, though for the
present purposes of it there is no room for you here."

"Gentlemen, you are carrying this too far," said
the unknown fair, who began to be anxious about the
turn the dispute was taking ; " and as you already seem
inclined to forget my presence, I will withdraw."

" I will follow you," said the Comte du Lude,
making himself her cavalier by force, as it were.
VOL. in 3
 
 

34 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" Not so fast," replied I, before he had time to take
a step, " the way is not clear, my dear Count, and I
mean to make a good defence of it ... 'Tis a second
position for you to carry."

And at the words I drew. While we were thus
wrangling, we had withdrawn to some distance from
the rest of the company, so that nothing prevented us
from carrying out our intention, the more so as it is
an admirable means of cutting such brawls short, and
our two blades were already touching in the obscurity
when we heard the sound of steps behind us. The
masked lady was overcome with genuine emotion,
and had staggered to the nearest tree as a support,
while her loud and irregular breathing bore witness to
the natural fear she felt in such circumstances. It
was nearly three o'clock in the morning, and we were
at the time of the longest summer days, so that the
light of dawn was already strong enough to allow of
our recognising the man who thus came to interrupt
us in the midst of our amusement. It was the
Marquis de Sevigne ; his doublet was half thrown
open, his hair was disordered and his shirt also
loosened ; he was steadying his gait, as he walked
like a man who has supped freely, but would not
have the fact appear.

" Eh, gentlemen," cried he as soon as he per-
ceived us, " what mean these warlike preparations ?
A duel ! A man's death may ensue here on our
friend Bussy-Rabutin's ground. It would be a bad
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 35

return for his princely hospitality, and I protest
against a night so well begun ending in tragedy."

Then he advanced and placed himself between
us, stretching out his arm for a sign of peacemaking ;
but on a sudden, having perceived the subject of the
quarrel, he continued, changing his tone :

" Odsbody, masters, I scarce know you . . . You,
Du Lude, so skilled in the laws of honour, and you,
Roquelaure, so adept in gallantry, to draw in a
woman's presence ! . . . Put up your steel, quickly,
my friends, such things are never done."

He was right ; we put up our swords without a
word, almost mechanically.

Thereupon the fair Greek, who had recovered
herself, drew near to us and said, addressing the
Marquis :

" Excellent, Monsieur de Sevigne, excellent. I
expected no less from your prudence and your
courtesy."

Du Lude and I looked at each other. The tender
emotion that the lady had revealed in speaking to the
Marquis had struck both of us.

" Egad, Sevigne," said the Count after a longish
pause, " you are in luck ! You throw yourself head-
long into a dispute which does not concern you
about which you do not even know anything and
upon the first word that you hurl at our heads,
without too clear an idea, between ourselves, of what
you mean, you are congratulated, thanked, and com-

32
 
 

36 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

plimented. But just a moment, if you please. There
are some old scores to settle, and you will not take
it ill if we deal with our own business before yours.
Your coming has made no change, and the dispute is
just where it was. Both Roquelaure and I think we
have some claim on the favour of this lady. It is for
her to decide between us."

" I could not put it better," cried I, approving Du
Lude's statement with a gesture.

" So," replied Sevigne, " you demand of the lady
that she shall make her choice ? "

" We demand nothing," replied the Count, " but
we beg it of her."

She seemed to collect herself, no doubt desiring to
come to a resolve as to what she ought to do. At last
she took a step towards us, and using those over-
gentle tones which are usually employed to soften a
disagreeable saying :

" Alas ! " said she. " In such circumstances be-
seeching embarrasses me as much as ordering, and
you will own, gentlemen, that you are pressing a poor
woman who has but had a glimpse of you rather hard.
What comparison or parallel could I make between
you ? Surely I should commit some injustice ... or
some mistake. . . . Well, believe me, it were better to
defer this to a later time. Besides, we are leaving one
of those late fetes that confuse the keenest eyes and
unsettle the strongest heads, and M. de Bussy has
plied us with bumpers of such wine as, all unsuspected,
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 37

contains the origins of the strangest caprices and the
most disordered wishes. ... So beware. . . . 'Tis
after supper now, and you love me madly. I protest,
if 'twere judged upon an empty stomach you might
detest me. So we should give these headstrong fumes
time to melt away. . . . To-morrow you will be calmer,
and I can pledge my word that we shall meet again.
Till then, be friends. . . . You will have time enough
to kill one another, if I say that either one has my
preference. In the meanwhile, as I fear to furnish
new aliment to your jealousy, I shall ask the Marquis
de Sevigne to be so kind as to become my escort. . . ."

" To take you back to the ball ? " asked the Comte
du Lude, pointing in the direction whence we heard
the fiddles playing a prelude.

" No, to take me for a little turn in the park,"
replied the unknown fair one. " I am much wrought
upon, and the fresh air will restore me."

As she thus spoke she treated us to a curtsey, and
we bowed in return with all imaginable politeness
and humility. At the same time she took Sevigne's
arm, and they both disappeared as swiftly as if they
had been ghosts ; they had entered the first alley of
the park they came to, where they hastened their
steps, and I heard them talking in a low voice and
brushing against the border shrubs.

Neither my vexation nor the Comte du Lude's
was proof against the marvellous piece of sleight we
had witnessed, a thing done before our eyes, while it
 
 

38 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

had occurred to neither one of us to oppose the
slightest obstacle to it. The same interpretation of
the fact suggested itself to the minds of both at the
same moment. Whether chance or intention had
brought Sevigne upon the scene, it was quite certain
that he had arrived opportunely, and we had been
unmistakably sacrificed to him. The new posture
of affairs was plain, and our real enemy was the
man who had thrown himself between us and whose
intervention we had allowed. So we needed no
further explanation of our mutual thoughts than a
hearty burst of laughter, and we shook hands on it.
We had the remembrance of our ogling, our elo-
quence and our sword-play for our pains. . . .

" The Pearl of the East has fooled us," said I,
scratching my ear. " She is a coquette."

"She is a woman of genius," he replied with
emphasis ; " for she discovered the only way, per-
haps, to reconcile us."

" No matter," said I, showing my ill humour
plainly enough; "I am not satisfied with my night
... an intrigue bungled is a prognostic of ill luck."

" Cannot we begin another ? As for me, my dear
Roquelaure, this little reverse, far from daunting me,
shall sharpen my wits and give me zeal in taking my
revenge. Just now I saw Lafeuillade cuddling Madame
d'Olonne in a corner, and I know them both well
enough to feel sure they were talking sweetstuff . . .
'twas a treaty being ratified. ... I will intrude
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 39

upon the midst of it, and let what will be the out-
come ! "

And Du Lude hurried off towards the chateau. I
admired his indifference and strove to follow so good
an example. But this was impossible in my case,
and the mysterious lady continued the sole subject of
my thoughts. What resolution could I come to in
such a state of mind ? It may be guessed. An
irresistible attraction led me in her footsteps. ... I
hurried towards the grove whose shadows had rapt
her from my sight . . . my search was for long a
vain one, for Bussy's park was not unlike a maze.
However, thanks to certain signs that I understood
much better than I could explain them a fluttering
of the leaves, the echo of a sigh, perchance that dying
fragrance that the fair lady's veil had communicated
as it passed, I struck the right road at last, and instantly
assured myself that I would not lose it again. The
further I went, the more sure I became of my discovery.
At length a very distinct dialogue held between voices
of a. different timbre finally convinced me that my
instinct had not beguiled me. I was at the moment
on a little rise, whence I looked down upon a lawn of
square formation, round which ran a quickset hedge
of a good height and very thick. The seats, which
were placed at intervals, were further screened from
prying eyes by splendid elms, the branches of which
were affectionately interlaced over all the space of the
square. But my curiosity overcame all obstacles,
 
 

40 SECRET, MEMOIRS OF

and a glance deftly taken through a break in the
foliage showed me how the errant couple stood. They
were no doubt tired of walking, so Sevigne and his
companion passed in review all the seats in the green-
sward enclosure, and choosing that which appeared
to them protected by the closest shelter, came and
seated themselves almost at my feet. Chance has
strange workings sometimes !

The conversation had been eagerly maintained
and had reached, as far as I could judge, a very
interesting point. 'Tis known how the voice rises ;
so, my ears being agog, I heard it all, attack and
defence.

" Marquis ! . . . Marquis ! " said the lady in dis-
guise, hiding her face by her fan, "you are putting
some strange questions to me ! . . . Do you know
that you are very inquisitive ? "

" A little confidence would be so easy to you,"
replied Sevigne in a caressing tone. "Just to think
that you have only to utter a name ! "

" That is just what I do not wish to do."

" Well, then . . . something else."

" What is it ? "

" I only ask you for a sign. Is it Du Lude, or
is Roquelaure the man of your choice ? I shall put
those two questions to you one after the other, and
you will answer yes or no by a movement of your
head."

" You give yourself a great deal of trouble, won
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 4!

pauvrt marquis. Come, I think it will be the best
way if I lead to the conclusion of the matter at once.
No one has more esteem than I for the Count du Lude,
especially since he fought so well with M. de Vardes,
which was an excellent reply to those who wronged
him by calling his courage in question ; on the other
hand, M. de Roquelaure's character is much to my
liking, and there is no one in the world for whom I
should entertain a stronger inclination if it could be a
question of thorough and sincere friendship with him
. . . but as for love, I have never felt it for either of
those gentlemen. It is to be understood," she added,
laughing, " that I only speak of the past ; I bind
myself to nothing for the future."

" Cruel lady, you seek to compass my despair, but
you will only inspire in me a still keener desire to
outdo my future rivals now. . . . From what I see,
your heart is like one of those bonny birds that love
the free air and covet liberty, so that they must be
swiftly caged if the captor does not wish to lose them,
without a hope of seeing them again. Well, I have
set myself to be the captor of that heart, and you can
imagine that the moment when I have it imprisoned
in this cage of verdure is no moment when I should
be so mad as to let it escape me."

" For pity's sake, Marquis ! You treat my heart
as if it belonged to you already by right of conquest.
But allow me ... I did not tell you that it was
free."
 
 

42 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

Sevigne started, and assumed an air of alarm.

" You love someone ! " he cried with a tone of
anguish that could pass as very natural.

" Would that be so surprising ? Are M. du Lude
and M. de Roquelaure the only men at court whom a
woman might love against her will ? Think further,
and you will find some who, if they are not of higher
worth, at least are as good, and a woman might sigh
for them, compromise herself for them, and even
commit a folly . . . without showing bad taste."

" No matter who he is, I mean to ruin him in
your consideration," cried Sevigne, in a fine trans-
port. " I will make you hate him ! "

" Take care, he is a friend of yours."

" I will compel him to give you up."

" I doubt it."

" I will kill him."

" 'Tis questionable."

" Then he shall yield me his place."

" I think not."

" Perhaps you will be more believing if you see
me at work in earnest. This at least I can asseverate,
that without knowing you I love you . . . and to
win you I would wage war on all my rivals, on
yourself, on everybody, and, as M. de Larochefou-
cauld said concerning Madame de Longueville, on
the gods themselves ! "

" But if I were ugly ? "

" Impossible."
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 43

" If I were ill-tempered ? "

" With such a voice ... it could not be."

" You are very confident."

" I am deeply enamoured, that is all."

The fair Athenian reclined in the seat, and the
flash of her gaze, through the eye-holes of her black
mask, seemed to be searching Sevigne's very soul.
She resumed more slowly :

" Pay good heed to what you say, Monsieur le
Marquis, for I warn you that, in spite of my seeming
levity, I have a bad habit of taking everything
seriously."

" 'Tis so I mean my words."

" Reflect, too, that in these matters I hate the
middle path, and either I shall consider this love
you boast of as a mere jest with naught to follow on
it, or else I shall certainly make of it the gravest and
most important affair in my life."

" Why, in that you open the gates of heaven
to me ! "

" But think yet more deeply. There are dreams
that begin so sweetly, and end so ill."

" This dream, if you agree, shall never end."

" Oh, if I dared believe you," whispered the un-
known one in a troubled voice.

" Believe me, believe me ! " cried Sevigne with the
accents of genuine passion, and he knelt before her
and embraced her knees.

There was an interval of silence. I saw that the
 
 

44 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

lady's bosom was heaving tumultuously ; the ardent
Sevigne took advantage of the liberties he was
accorded as a man who knows the value of time,
and I think, if I remember rightly, that my emotion
was not slighter than his own. Peering as well as
I was able through that kind of pretty prism which
obscured my sight, I thought I perceived that
matters were maturing with great speed. The
Marquis de Sevigne made rapid progress, so rapid
that the fair nymph, surprised at the ground he had
already covered, became visibly disquieted at it, and
begging him to rise, drew him gently towards her,
unwilling, no doubt, to deprive him of all hope, but
clearly understanding at that critical moment that the
real means of enhancing the value of her favours was
not to lavish them all at once.

" A man," said she, forcing herself into some
composure, " a man is ever excusable in yielding to
such follies. But I should be foolish, and unpardon-
ably foolish, if I listened to you ... for after all
. . . you know what reputation they give you . . .
that you are inconstant, frivolous, incapable of a
lasting preference."

" Slander ! "

" They say you are often at Ninon's . . .

" Calumny ! "

" And to say no more than this, about which you
can have no word to retort, you are married."

" I know it only too well."
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 45

' And married, as they say, to a woman who,
though I have never met her, is reported as ...
very agreeable. Has she not pretty eyes ? "

" Of two different colours," said Sevigne.

' I have heard she is pretty rather than not."

" Oh, oh ! "

" And especially that she has a sprightly wit ? "

" Yes," answered the wretched husband, in a tone
of concession that was quite lacking in enthusiasm.

" You speak very coldly of her good qualities. . .
But 'tis true that my presence easily explains
that. ..."

" Oh, I speak so with all my heart, that I swear."

"So you would be unfaithful to her . . . without
regret . . . and without remorse ? "

" Can it concern you ? "

" Oh, it concerns me much. You have a bent
towards inconstancy that makes me think . . . 'tis
hazardous with you, Monsieur le Marquis, and if
Madame de Sevigne is as attractive as they make
out . . ."

" Attractive," resumed the Marquis with im-
patience, " yes, as attractive as you please, but when
all is said and done, what is that to me ? Her beauty
is talked of ... she may be beautiful . . . and yet
in truth I know not if she be. I dare say I knew at
one time, that's probable, but I have forgotten since.
As for her wit, I have it trumpeted into my ears
daily, and I can discern for myself that she is bright,
 
 

46 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

lively, clever, full of rare conceits and fertile in all
kinds of brilliant thoughts ... I have no doubt that it
is all very admirable, very rare and very precious . . .
I am not objecting or raising difficulties . . . but,
after all, she is my wife. . . ."

" And a man does not love his wife ? " interrupted
this remorseless logician at the opportune moment.

" Oh well, he loves her in a certain way. . ."

" But not the right way. . . Come, I have had a
great deal of trouble to get that from you."

" Frankly, I know not what you want of me, and
do not follow what you mean. Am I thinking about
my wife at all ? Are not you everything to me ? . . .
Since it is true that I am in bondage, let me, dear fair
one, shake off my slavery for a moment, and forget my
fetters ! . . . Are there not instants in life when
the mistakes of the past and the anxieties of the
future are absorbed in a present happiness ? Here at
your knees I make this earnest declaration to you.
You in this hour are my joy, my hope, my life . . .
all this fair display of nature that surrounds us and
breathes in your being has neither existence nor
beauty but through you. . . . Wheresoever I turn,
whatsoever delight I long for, I can see you and only
you. . . . Oh, confess to me, mysterious fair, that
my hands, thus twined with yours, have at last made
you feel a little of my ardour, and that you share my
rapture! "

The poor lady confessed nothing, but her silence,
at the pass in which things then were, was a blank
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 47

order which Sevigne could evidently use as he chose.
Our worthy Marquis was not backward, and made
his commencements like a man who means to carry
matters to the very end on the spot. Master of the
lady's comely waist, he had already drawn her down
towards him, and now triumphed over those little
resistances which in such circumstances are never
more than the preliminaries of surrender. And yet
he had to submit to a serious check ; for when he
sought to remove her mask she broke sharply from
his arms and threatened to withdraw altogether if
he renewed the attempt. Strange as her incognito
might seem, seeing how matters stood, he vowed
he would respect it, perceiving that she would be
inexorable on the point and that he would gain
nothing by haggling about such a trifle. This little
disturbance being appeased, he returned to the charge
with fresh ardour, and as always happens in these
kinds of contest where the two opponents understand
each other perfectly and are perfectly agreed, the
action and the noise of combat were resumed ac-
cording to the immemorial usageby kisses, mur-
mured words, and sighs.

The two lovers supposed themselves alone. And
yet they were not so ; for Phoebus and I were there.
And might not I have been compared to Actaeon ?

Mythology apart, it was the fact that 1 had not
quitted my post of observation, and day was dawning
more and more brightly. . . .

There are poets who express love in verse, musicians
 
 

48 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

who set it forth in notes, painters and sculptors who
express it on canvas or form it in stone. The first
reproduce the language of it, the second imitate its
tongue, and the last convey its form. I say nothing
of the philosophers, who among the whole host of
the speculative are assuredly, upon the theme that
now concerns us, the most remote from credibility
and common sense. They seek to reason love out,
and hereby have sometimes rendered it as tedious as
themselves, which is saying a great deal. Heeding
only the three forms of art that have been mentioned
above, it is certain that each one has a value, and
that we draw sweet meditations from poesy, welcome
inspirations from a fine piece of music, and from a
fair design the appreciation of a reality which we
had but guessed at before. But what power of art
can ever compete with nature, viewed in her most
secret play and gazed on in her act ? Let the reader
imagine, then, the admirable sight which I beheld a
living background wherein every blade of grass that
gave its mite to the glory of the scene was rustling
and awakening in God's bosom. Let fancy depict
the charming arches of leaves and flowers whence
arose a fresh fragrance of dew, the large, deep-shaded
glades, the silence which seemed a very conspiracy
of pleasure against reason, the sweet morning breeze
which was carolling among the branches ; and below
them, in the foreground, two young, fair and impas-
sioned creatures, redoubling their lives by yielding
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 49

them one to the other, and adding, all unconsciously,
one more gentle harmony to this magnificent concert
of sunrise. Can an ideal be carried further ? Let
what will be said or done, this is the best picture,
the fairest sculpture of Love.

But to return to our hero and heroine. Analysis
is often lengthier than the deeds to which it has
reference, and if I put no curb upon my pen I should
run the risk of taking the reader so far that we should
find it difficult perhaps to return to the point whence
we set out.

Scarce credible, the aspect of the scene changed
suddenly. I rubbed my eyes to see more plainly.
The lady, slightly disordered, was standing some two
paces from the bench on which the Marquis de
Sevigne was still seated, smoothing the lace he wore
and pushing the dishevelled locks of his hair from his
forehead. But this was the affair of an instant, and
he rose and offered his hand to his accomplice. But
she repulsed him sternly.

" What am I to understand by this cruelty, my
fair one ? " cried the Marquis, in great surprise.

" You are to understand, sir, that there can be
nothing more in common between us."

" Am I deaf ? Can I have understood ? You are
saying . . . ? "

" That from to-day you are nothing to me and
I am nothing to you."

" Well, indeed," said Sevigne, whose annoyance
VOL. in 4
 
 

50 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

now appeared amid his astonishment, " here is an
ending that I little suspected. But you are but
jesting, I think, my fair friend ? "

" Not the least in the world, Marquis. Come, let
us return to the chateau."

" What ! Both together ? "

" What does it matter ? "

" But the ball is not finished . . . the music and
the dancing are not finished ... if we return at the
same time, people will form conclusions . . . they
will talk . . ."

" Much less than you think."

" But you will let me escort you home."

It is my intention. It is only just that the
Marquis de Sevigne, after the gross crime he has
just committed against his wife, should at least escort
her home as a favour."

And her mask, snatched off by a deft movement,
was hurled aside.

The fair Greek slave, whose long curls falling to
her waist, blue bodice and broad-pleated skirt had
made us dream of Athens, Thessaly and Smyrna,
disappeared !

It was Madame de Sevigne !

I do not think in all my life I have seen a man
more out of countenance and discomfited than the
wretched Marquis. He dared not meet her gaze,
but stood with a bent head, as if he were under a
ban from which he could not escape. A strange
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 51

thing was that he did not even try to stammer out
an excuse or attempt any sort of exculpation. He
had lost his pluck, readiness of tongue and good
sense at the same time.

Perhaps my eyes had never been so busy, and
they lost no single detail of this dumb-show, which,
though it seemed trifling enough, was full of the
menace that the culprit had deserved and of serious
teaching. What she told him without speaking I
should be sorry to reckon up. I do not know whether
he in his confusion understood much of it ; as for me,
I was clearly convinced that, after the first explosion
of her jealousy, she would think seriously of revenging
herself.

Their meeting terminated in the most silent
fashion that can be conceived. As she withdrew
she caused him to pass before her, and they looked
like two statues walking one behind the other at
an equal pace.

" Poor Sevigne," I murmured, with a laudable
impulse of compassion, " you have spent a night
which will cost you dear."

I had hit upon the truth. From that moment all
went amiss with the Marquis, and his estate, which
was not very great, was finally dissipated in follies
and caprices. He made a show at that time of
abandoning Ninon de Lenclos, who had given him
the go-by. A year later, upon a notable amour he
had with Madame Gondran, he was killed in a duel

4-2
 
 

52 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

by the Chevalier d'Albret, whose place he had
taken.

As for his wife, she spent her grief the more
violently that she might console herself the sooner.
'Tis as good a method as any other of reconciling
our pleasure with our duty.

A final word about De Bussy's fete. Though
it was now past four in the morning and broad
daylight, gaming, dancing, and the strolls in the
glades were still in progress. The Marquis de
Sevigne and his wife were saluted at their re-
appearing with endless exclamations of surprise, and
certain more or less free pleasantries upon the
romantic pilgrimage they had made in the perilous
obscurity of the park. The Comte du Lude was full
of it, and could not explain the singular circumstance
but by supposing that Sevigne had recognised his
wife in spite of her mask.

As for me, I was content with the night I had
passed, though little inclined to divulge how I had
employed it ; and perceiving that more than one
indiscreet question would be put me on this point,
I made for the stable-yard of the chateau by the
darkest and least frequented paths. Then, having
found Cascarel, who had fallen asleep while he waited
for me, I gave him a good shaking, at the risk of
putting him on bad terms with Morpheus for the
rest of the day, and cried in his ear that he must
seek out our horses in the stables. That answered
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 53

with him ; for, like a machine freshly wound up, he
mechanically directed his steps whither I sent him,
and in less than five minutes we had covered ground
enough to be secure from hindrance in our retreat
either by the untimely pressing of a too zealous
friend, by a gossip or a questioner.

As I said at the beginning of this chapter, I have
kept the secret of this amusing adventure for twenty
years. The only person to whom I have ever spoken
of it was Madame de Sevigne, a little time after the
occurrence, and I shall be believed when I say that
she blushed to the roots of her hair when she thought
of the pleasing posture in which I had seen her. Did
not she ask me if I had not had at least the benevo-
lence to shut my eyes ? A rare question ! . . . and
how easy it was for me to answer it !

I took no advantage of the power such a precedent
might have given me, nor, though I found her in-
finitely to my liking, did I even seek to become the
accomplice of that vengeance whereof I spoke above,
and which she began to exact much sooner than I
should have expected.

I was never more than her friend.
 
 

54 SECRET MEMOIRS OF
 
 

CHAPTER XXIX

Amende honorable I repair some omissions Looking back
Monsieur's campaign The siege of Mardik The impa-
tience of an unemployed soldier I am at last included in a
new undertaking The siege of Bourbourg Monsieur de
Rantzau We march upon Courtray The lengthy resist-
ance encountered at this town Arrival of the Due
d'Enghien Monsieur congratulates me I am appointed
lieutenant-general An excursion to Amsterdam Dutch
fog I look for loveliness in vain I flee Mezieres An
hour at church Abbe Truguet's sermon Awkward con-
sideration propounded by a hunchback The Abbe's clever-
ness My journey to Compiegne Visit to M. de R * * *
The forest The fair traveller A mad impulse The truth
as a compliment Audaces fortuna juvat A reward What
I learned from M. de R.* * * Madame du Hallier Her
lawsuit with the Baron d'Herouville An old lady's amours
Challenge and retort I mean to kill d'Herouville A
convincing reason which prevents me The results of a
kiss Rebellion in the provinces Siege of Bordeaux
Attack on the Faubourg Saint-Severin.

CARRIED away by the personal delight of narrating
my past for the pleasure of recalling one's deeds
is an egoist's pleasure I have but glanced at those
events of contemporary history wherein I took no
share, and have but roughly sketched those wherein
I played some part, whether as active participator
or witness. This was within my right as a narrator
of trifles, and I have used it freely. But there are
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAUKE 55

circumstances which I ought to have more closely
followed, for from their very gravity they could not
fail to be among the prime factors governing the
course of my life. It is well that I should repair
this error, and to this end I must go back some
years into that more auspicious time when discord
had not yet declared itself among us, and the Par-
lement and the Court had not yet been seen at
divergence nor rebellion sitting, as it were, on the
very steps of the throne.

I think I have said that I took part in the Grave-
lines campaign with the rank of major-general. I
was with Monsieur in the expedition of the following
year, and was present at the siege of Mardik ; but
though this was a creditable feat of arms for the
French and their leader, I was not called upon to
draw my sword throughout the duration of it. Such
a sight was well calculated to heat the blood in my
veins, and the reader will give credence to my word
when I say that I was like a horse champing the
bit with impatience. Fortunately, they soon found
some work for me, and the capture of Bourbourg
having been decided upon, Monsieur summoned me
to his presence and gave me his instructions. I
cannot express the joy I felt at this, but to give some
idea of it, I may say that I had only left Paris in the
hope of distinguishing myself at the head of my
regiments, and that for more than a month I had
been left to my ease like an old horse or a rusty
 
 

56 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

musket. This, at least, I can affirm, that on the
day when the trumpet called us to action, I was not
the last to be ready in fighting trim, and I think
this may be said of a soldier's spirit, that it is ever
fresh, eager, and ardent. Campaign life does not
weary, but rather renews his strength ; the clash of
steel animates his zest, the trumpet-summons cheers
his heart, and the sound of the cannon makes a new
man of him. All this, no doubt, lacks direct appli-
cation to me ; for I was, thank God ! still active
and in health, since at the time I was entering upon
my twenty-eighth year ; it is none the less true
that my impressions of war were exactly the same
at this time as at La Marfee, and that I thought
a fair deception ! I was still upon my first essay. . . .
The result of the action set me right about this, but
in a most pleasing way, and so as to greatly com-
pensate me for being no longer at my initiation ;
for we took Bourbourg by storm, and my men per-
formed prodigies of valour, to which effect I think
I may claim to have contributed my share.

We were greatly assisted in this siege by the
courage and experience of M. de Rantzau, who
was thanked to the best of our power by being
created a Marshal of France. For that matter, he
was worthy of the honour as much by birth as
by his military achievements, for he belonged to
one of the oldest and most noble houses of Holstein.

We then moved upon Courtray, where the Due
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 57

d'Enghien joined us with his army. Here the matter
was much protracted, and the besieged offered a
vigorous resistance. But Monsieur kept a good
courage throughout, and the only words which
escaped him in perceptible vexation he uttered
against Cardinal Mazarin, with whom he was none
the less on very good terms. One morning, when
he had summoned us all to headquarters, he ex-
pressed himself as follows :

" Gentlemen, I have to give you a piece of
news which will appear very singular to some of
you, considering that we are the besiegers. It is
that we have but little powder and but a trifle of
ball ammunition. We cannot send to ask for some
of the Marquis de Caracene, who is in command of
the Spaniards, nor of the Duke of Lorraine, who
is also against us, and His Eminence Cardinal
Mazarin has brought us to this plight by his exces-
sive parsimony or his want of forethought, so I
have brought you together here to pray you not to
defer the capture of the town, and to take measures
for our entering into possession to-morrow morning,
at latest, in the name of the King of France. You
understand, gentlemen ; we can still work our guns
an hour or two, and even then it will be a close
thing. ... So take your steps accordingly."

His counsel was followed to the letter, and on
the following day Courtray surrendered uncondition-
ally. \Ve naturally desired to obey His Royal
 
 

58 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

Highness, who was, in fact, very well content with
the way in which we had eked out our supplies.
And it was true that after we had entered the town
we could still boast of seven or eight cannon-balls,
though for that matter I know not how they would
have served us, for our powder was completely out.
It will be admitted that such carelessness has rarely
been known, especially in a campaign by French
troops.

Be that as it may, the affair brought great credit
to me, and it appears that I gave proof of two or
three happy inspirations on the field of battle, for
Monsieur made me his compliments in person, and
conferred upon me, by way of recompense, the rank
of lieutenant-general.

Finding myself master of my movements after
these two campaigns, and not being under any urgent
necessity to return to Paris, I took it into my head
to travel in Flanders, and proceeded as far as Amster-
dam, the reputation of which town for commerce had
long aroused my curiosity. I may say at once that
I had no reason to congratulate myself on that long
and tedious journey. The country around the town
seemed to me ugly, and the town itself offered me
scant gratification. What was Roquelaure to do
in a place where the sum of pleasures consists, I
believe, in walking in the neighbourhood of the
Bourse, looking at the fine houses of the Heere and
the Kaisersgraft, and visiting the Hotel de Ville ?
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE $9

No doubt I may be reminded that I might divert
myself by looking at the harbour of the town, which
often contains a thousand or two thousand vessels,
and these form the finest floating forest that can be
conceived. To which I will make answer that it
is in fact an interesting sight, and that I admired it
throughout one whole day, and that a man's mind
must be terribly ill composed if that did not suffice
him.

The heavy climate and gross atmosphere of Hol-
land were not without their influence upon my dispo-
sition, which within a week lost a great deal of its
gaiety. So I soon took thought for my departure.
But before doing so I wished to extend my study
to the feminine population of the town, hoping that
this study would repay me for my trouble. Alas !
Alas! The Dutch women are a sad race! It did
not take me long to see that the hands of these
fair ones were of more than the size that betokens
honest work and of a scarce pleasing shape ; that
their eyes were dull, of a faded hue, and of a
melancholy lack of expression ; that the greater
number of them had bad long teeth, which were
transparent and often loose-set in the gums ; that
their paleness was rather that of the sickly than
of the interesting woman, and that their legs sup-
ported a form which was almost invariably ill-shaped,
and were neither plump nor comely nor slender.
So much for the middle class. As for the girls
 
 

6O SECRET MEMOIRS OF

among the vulgar, I was sorry to observe that they
had execrable habits. As soon as it was cold, there
was not one of them but sat to her work with a
chaufferette under her feet. Their dress is not at-
tractive ; most of those whom I met during my
short sojourn in Amsterdam wore a little white
headband, under which all their hair was easily
concealed, a bodice of white pique, not fitted with
whalebone, a grey-coloured jacket from their shoul-
ders to their hips, and a slack-hanging skirt, whose
one advantage was that it showed the calf, which,
unhappily, was rarely a comely one. To this must
be added that the Dutch women are neither lively
nor merry ; that they are alike ignorant of the
arts of pleasing and the arts of loving ; that they
generally show a freezing seriousness ; and you will
understand forthwith that I hurried on my packing
and retreated bag and baggage from this accursed
land. When I passed the frontier I breathed deep
enough to crack my lungs, and sneezed hard enough
to burst my brain. I felt as if I should choke from
the effects of too much hot tea, and that I was
haunted by an infernal odour of tobacco. I freed
myself from these grievous fancies so soon as I
had lost sight of the foggy fringes of the Zuyder
Zee and beheld the smiling hills of Lorraine. France
took me to her heart again as an indulgent mother
opens her arms to a spoiled child. For that matter,
I had not been faithless to her in such wise as
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 6l

should cause her to treat me severely. My brief
desertion to a foreign land had but made me prouder
of my country and more a lover of her beauties.

I played truant here and there on my return
journey. Having no predetermined plan of my
course, I let the whim of the moment govern it,
and fared no worse on that account. Taking it all
in all, I had a very quiet journey of it, and nothing
happened to me which is worthy of being narrated
at length. But I will make mention of two occur-
rences, of which one befell at Mezieres, where I
stayed two days, and the other in the forest of
Compiegne. To begin with, here is the incident at
Mdzieres.

It was Whit-Sunday, and I went to hear mass
at the cathedral. But as I arrived at the moment
of the elevation, I remained for the sermon, which
I was told was to be preached by Father Truguet,
whose reputation as a theologian and an orator
was more established in his province than in the
remainder of France, for I had never heard him
spoken of until then. So I took my place in the
nave, in front of the pulpit, and gave my mind to
pious attention, as circumstances required of me.
The Abbe went into the pulpit, solemnly assumed
his black gown, and entered upon the finest sermon,
perhaps, that I have ever heard in my whole life
upon the thesis, which might for all that be disputed
up to a certain point, that God has well made all
that he has made.
 
 

62 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

No complaint could have been lodged against
the attentiveness of the congregation, and I sur-
rendered myself to the persuasive enthusiasm of
Father Truguet's eloquence. But from time to time
my attention was diverted by the nervous movements
of a misshapen little man seated quite close to me,
who was continually repeating :

" Tis not to be believed. My God ! My God !
Will not Thy lightnings confound this ignorant priest ?
In truth ... a man might turn Turk. . . . He will
not leave off ... the same silliness again and again.
No, no, 'tis settled. I will become a Turk."

These mutterings, the sense of which it was
impossible to divine, were uttered below his breath
and on the tip of his tongue, as it were. I took
no further notice for some time than to utter a
" hush ! " or two in his direction ; then he would
be quiet for a moment, but would begin again more
eagerly than ever. Nothing was left but to put
up with it. At last I let him alone and thought
no more of him.

The sermon was finished amid a general hum
of approbation, and I was one of the last to leave
the church. I had reached the pillars of the porch,
and was about to quit the place for good and all,
when I noticed the Abbe Truguet walking towards
one of the side-streets, and my hunchback, who was
running after him, shouting :

" Monsieur 1'Abbe ! . . Monsieur 1'Abbe ! "
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 63

Father Truguet stopped, and I, incited by that
desire to know which forms a good half of my life,
drew near, though I left a fair enough distance
between them and me to save me from accusations
of prying.

" Were you calling to me ? " asked the reverend
Father, turning round.

" Yes, you, sir," replied the hunchback, making
a respectful bow.

" How can I serve you, my friend ? "

" Monsieur 1'Abbe, you can enlighten my conscience
about a point of religion that now seems very obscure
to me."

" You have my attention," said the priest, " and if
my feeble aid ..."

" What I want to understand is a very simple
matter," resumed the hunchback. " Did not you say just
now in church before a large congregation, Monsieur
1'Abbe, that God has made all he has made perfectly ? "

" Certainly. . . . Well ? "

"Well, Monsieur 1'Abbe, look at me."

And saying thus, the hunchback performed as fine
a pirouette as has ever been seen in a ballet, and by
this skilful manoeuvre exposed to the theologian's
view a protuberance of which it would have been
hard to find the like.

" Well," replied the Abbe, slightly astonished,
" what do you mean to say ? "

" I mean to say, Monsieur 1'Abbe, that if you can
 
 

64 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

succeed in proving to me that I am perfectly made, I
will own you delivered a splendid sermon just now ;
if not, I think I have the right to assert that in all
we heard there is not a grain of common sense."

Father Truguet frowned, like a man conscious of
the difficulty. But almost immediately he resumed
his usual tranquillity of manner, and replied to the
enthusiastic disputant :

" My good friend, do not be led astray. . . . You
are perfectly made, for a hunchback."

And the excellent Abbe went quietly on his way.
The questioner, astounded by such a display of con-
fidence, looked himself over for a long time, as if he
sought to understand the explanation he had just
heard. I saw him smile . . . and I could have
sworn that he felt a little glow of conceit at the
moment, and was beginning to feel convinced that
the preacher was right. . . .

It was my intention to pass a few days at my
house at Saint-Germain before I returned to Paris.
But first I proceeded to Compiegne, where my good
friend M. de R*** } who was the confidant of my
first affair with Madame de Lavernay, had had a
little chateau built for his pleasure, and I had
promised to accept his hospitality for a day or two.

M. de R*** was delighted to see me, and he
invited all the gentlefolk of the neighbourhood to
dinner on the second of the two days, that on
which I was to start for Paris. As we had planned,
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 65

we were upon the road about four o'clock, after a
repast which had been as merry as it was elegant,
and the little band that escorted me promised to
continue with me till night fell. While we were
thus proceeding, the incident occurred of which I
spoke above. We had been about two hours upon
our way chatting, laughing, and letting our mounts
take their own pace, when we saw a splendid coach
advancing towards us, drawn by two Spanish horses
of the finest breed, and surrounded by a numerous
body of outriders, servants, and grooms, evidently
prepared for a journey of long duration. We sup-
posed at first that it was some gentleman of the
neighbourhood who was about to take up his abode
elsewhere, and was in consequence bringing his whole
household retinue with him. But what was our
surprise when we perceived that the coach contained
but a single lady, clad in a costume at once rich and
simple, and of a truly faultless beauty. The carriage
stopped, and the lady, who seemed struck with the
loveliness of the view, had had the windows of her
carriage let down that she might the better survey
the horizon reddened by the setting sun.

Messieurs de Laval, de la Moussaye, de Choiseul,
and de Piennes, whose horses were walking in line
with my own, looked at her from the corners of
their eyes one after the other, but none recognised
her . . . and they all agreed that she was one of
those majestic creatures who command respect, and
VOL. in 5
 
 

66 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

in whose presence the science so easily put in practice
elsewhere is sometimes forgotten.

They even turned towards the others of the band
that they might repress indiscreet murmurs. We
moved forward in silence, and soon passed into a
thickly-grown glade, which set a green barrier
between us and the lady on her travels.

" Gentlemen," said I to those around me, " I
will own one thing to you, and that is, I have an
enormous inclination to speak to the lady."

" What a mad notion ! "

" Just so, 'tis after my own fashion."

" What would you say to her ? "

" Whatever came into my head."

" Do you know her ? "

" No more than you."

" Bah ! you would not dare to."

" I should dare."

" Let it pass," said Laval, " Roquelaure has
these fads now and then. But they get no further
than talk, you may be sure of that."

" You think so, Laval ? And if you saw me now
approach her, what would you say ? "

" I should say that you were just going to pass
round her coach, look her insolently in the face,
and then come back to tell us if she is as fair at
close quarters as at a distance."

" Now see how my actions belie your words,"
replied I to Laval, clapping both my spurs into
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 67

my horse, and going straight up to the lady in
question, while my companions remained where I
had left them, motionless and attentive.

A few seconds had sufficed me for determining
my plan of action. When I came within a few
paces of the coach, I sprang to the ground, gave
my horse to a servant, whom I had had the fore-
thought to bring at my heels, and bowed profoundly
to the fair traveller, who, at the moment when I
approached, was alighting from her carriage, no
doubt in the intention of traversing a part of the
wood afoot.

" Madame," said I to her, wasting no time in
needless hesitation, " I know not who you are, nor
do you know who I am. You are going in one
direction, I in another. We have never seen each
other before, and 'tis likely we shall not meet again,
so you have every reason to believe that my homage
is sincere, when I here declare, kneeling at your
feet, and with my hand on my heart, that I think
you the most perfect creature perhaps that I have
ever seen, and that you have the finest eyes in
the world."

The lady was conscious of her worth ... so
much was to be inferred from her proud glance
and the noble dignity of her bearing. So she did
not receive these words as a mere compliment, but
as a truth simply and solemnly asserted. It took
her but a little time to recover from her surprise,

52
 
 

68 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

and then she replied to me, overcoming some slight
emotion :

" Monsieur, it is likely, as you said just now,
that our meeting will not be repeated. For it is
certain that you are proceeding to Paris, and as
for me ... I am leaving France for ever. ... It
matters not. ... I owe you some thanks. . . . Here
is my hand, Monsieur."

To the favour thus implied she added that of
withdrawing her glove, and I raised to my lips,
and for a whole minute pressed to them, a hand
as soft as an infant's and as white as alabaster.

The kiss lasted a little too long. She softly
released herself, smiled graciously, stepped into her
coach again, and set forth once more.

Now it was my turn to linger on the spot, to
which my emotion rooted me, insensible and speech-
less. I was roused from this sort of stupor by the
exclamations which soon broke out behind me.

" 'Twas fine ! " said one.

" He bewitches the women ! " said another.

" I am beaten, and I own to the defeat," added
Laval, tapping me on the shoulder.

Hearing my victory thus celebrated, and pro-
claimed by the very man who had, so to say,
challenged me, put new heart into me and restored
my self-possession. I got into the saddle again,
and was overwhelmed with questions about the
means, most likely supernatural, I had employed
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 69

to compass my intent. I left these questions un-
answered, saying, by way of excuse, that I kept
that sort of secrets to myself. In the meanwhile,
M. de R * * *, who, being old, was not getting forward
so fast as we, and had tarried with the rearguard
of us, came up, for he had put his beast, which
was a poor one, yet headstrong, and guided its
rider far more than he controlled it, to a canter.

" Did you notice," said he, " the lady who has just
passed close to us ? "

" Oh, yes ! . . . what is her name ? "

" She is Madame du Hallier," replied M. de
R * * *, " one of the richest heiresses of Noyon. She
is on her way to Havre, whence she will sail for
Guadeloupe; she has five or six millions there in
land, houses and slaves."

They told M. de R * * * what had just taken
place, and he heartily congratulated me.

" To kiss Madame du Hallier's hand ! " said he.
" One of my friends, the Comte de S * * *, would
not have blown out his brains if he could have achieved
as much."

These few words were calculated to arouse my
curiosity very strongly about the life and conduct of
Madame du Hallier; so, taking M. de R * * * aside,
I adjured him by his friendship to satisfy my curiosity
on this head completely. I learned that she had been
a widow for a year, that she was going to her brother
in Guadeloupe, and that among her neighbours in the
 
 

7O SECRET MEMOIRS OF

country she had a high reputation for virtue, though
she had also a fine crop of admirers.

" But as to that," said M. de R * ^ *, leaving his
tale abruptly, "you are a Gascon, and do you not
know D'Herouville ? "

" Only by name. He belonged to Bordeaux."

" Well, a strange thing happened to Madame du
Hallier, and d'Herouville was concerned in it in a way
that was little gratifying to himself, but he got out of
the scrape, thanks to his wit."

" Did it not happen," I said to M. de R ***, "in
reference to a lawsuit in which I saw their names
connected last year throughout the sitting of the
Brittany Parlement ? "

" Just so. The matter in question was the estate
of old Madame des Mortreux, who was cousin to
Madame du Hallier, and she had an undoubted
right to the property. It is a really curious thing
to know how she was kept out of it. Would you
like me to tell you ? "

" I should be glad."

" Madame des Mortreux," resumed M. de R * * *,
who was a great talker, " Madame des Mortreux
was about fifty, but she was liable to returns of
youthfulness from time to time, and it was a point
of honour with her to show the little town in which
she lived that she was well preserved enough to
suffer no lack of suitors. So she had cast her eyes
upon D'Herouville, a very perfect young gentleman,
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 7!

whose manner very strongly recalled that of the
elegant migtwns of Henry III.'s court. Old men
used to say that he was like Saint-Megrin. He
had the same look of graceful chivalry, the same
light way of speech, and the same taste for extrava-
gance, luxury and display. Madame des Mortreux
would have been mad for him on far less provo-
cation. Her passion was soon known to everybody,
for she sought after him openly, and never left him
at peace. As she had no children, there was no
one to gainsay her seriously, and the amour of
Madame des Mortreux, at the age of fifty, for
D'Herouville, a young gentleman not yet thirty,
became the talk of the countryside within three
weeks."

" In all this," said I, interrupting him, " I see no
sign of Madame du Hallier."

" Wait a little. Everything in due place.
D'Herouville let matters take their course. He
was a lively fellow who had spent a patrimony of
some thousands of crowns with two or three merry
ladies of Paris, among whom were Madame de
Moussy, the sister of Du Gue Bagnols, the Master
of Requests, La Clinchamp and Madame de Bressieu.
At the time when he became acquainted with
Madame des Mortreux, he was very much like a
man in danger of drowning, who clings as well as
he can to the first support he finds. His pocket was
desperately empty, and he had need of all the influ-
 
 

72 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

ence he derived from his name, which was accounted
one of the best in Guienne, to keep afloat above the
disaster which continually threatened to overwhelm
him. Madame des Mortreux worked miracles and set
all this right. D'Herouville was grateful, and it
ceased to be a secret to anybody that he had
brought his homage to Madame des Mortreux's knees.
From the day when the amorous compact was sealed
by the final favour, the foolish old lady was beside
herself with joy, and would gladly have sent her old
friends an invitation to be present, adding an im-
pressive announcement that music would be played."

" I am further from Madame du Hallier than
ever," said I, spurring my horse ; but at the same
time I curbed him in.

" Gadswings, how impatient you are ! A man has
no fair chance to tell a story to you, Roquelaure.
Come, let me go my own pace. Let me see . . .
where was I ? Ah, matters went thus for about six
months, and then Madame des Mortreux was seized
with so violent a colic that she had to take to her
bed. D'Herouville behaved as a worthy fellow, and
summoned all the doctors of the neighbourhood.
The ill-natured declared that he had but set so
many doctors upon her to make it impossible for
her to recover. If it were so, he was out in his
reckoning, for the colic passed off, and the invalid
regained her health in a fortnight. This was made
the occasion of a ball and supper at her house, and
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 73

the merriment was kept up till three o'clock in the
morning. Thereupon, having waited till all the rest
were gone, she told the Baron d'Herouville that
she looked upon her last illness as a warning of
Heaven which must not be disregarded, and that
she had therefore resolved to make her will. The
lawyer, who was summoned without more ado, told
me all the details himself. Madame des Mortreux
announced it as her firm intention to divide the
whole of her estate into two halves, whereof the
one, consisting of ready money and certain revenues
secured to her by deed, was to go to Madame du
Hallier, while the other, comprising the castle and
land of D'Estrelles, was to pass to the young Baron.

" D'Herouville made some difficulties about ac-
cepting such a rare windfall, and whether the bene-
factress had to overcome his delicacy by a sweet
violence is not known precisely to anybody, and
I would not swear to it. However that may be,
three months after the will had been signed, sealed,
and delivered, Madame des Mortreux, who insisted
on having her dresses as low-cut as if she had been
thirty, caught the bronchitis, which brought her
to her bed a second time. This time, all the Latin
the Faculty had was wasted on her, for she died. . . ."

" Poor mad old woman ! So Madame du Hallier
lost the land ! "

" Now that vexes you, does it not ? The will
was read. D'Herouville, there being nothing irregular
 
 

74 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

to allege, came to take possession of the chateau the
week following, However, he found the gate shut,
and, when he asked what such a piece of insolence
meant, the hall-keeper told him through the bars
that Madame du Hallier, the late lady's cousin,
had obtained an order of court to stay the grant
of probate, and that judgment on her appeal must
be waited for.

" Is that all ? " said D'Herouville ; " I will await it."

" The lawsuit was pushed on in fine style. Madame
du Hallier had the President's ear, and was on the
best terms with several counsellors, who hurried
on the hearing, and gave her every assurance of
success. She was overjoyed. D'Herouville simply
stood upon his rights and the terms of the will,
the clear meaning of which could hardly be disputed.
The result proved that he was right in taking the
matter calmly. In spite of all the influences on
which Madame du Hallier relied, judgment was
given in favour of D'Herouville."

" All the judgments in the world would not make
D'Herouville an honest gentleman," I muttered in
a surly fashion.

" That is possible . . . but hear the end of it. ...
As they left the court-house, Madame du Hallier,
whose features gained in handsomeness when ani-
mated by anger, made her way through the press
and passed close to her opponent. She stopped in
front of him, and, looking him in the face, said :
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 75

" ' Monsieur le Baron, you must own that your
estate did not cost you a heavy price ! '

" ' Well, you know what it cost me, Madame,'
replied D'Herouville, without wincing, 'and I offer
it to you at the same price.' "

" 'Twas extremely impudent ! " cried I, with indig-
nation.

" It showed a ready wit, none the less," resumed
M. de R** :;: , smiling, "and you will agree with
me that it made retort difficult. Madame du Hallier
dropped her eyes, turned pale, and withdrew. She
had good reason to. They say she has never for-
given D'Herouville for the saying. As for him, he
had abundant consolation for all the rancour she
might harbour against him and the ill-will she bore
him. He was young, the lands and domain of
D'Estrelles brought him in a good thirty thousand
livres rentroll, and no small matter in our merry
land of France the laugh was on his side. What
think you of it, Roquelaure ? "

" I think," answered I, rousing myself with diffi-
culty from my absorption, " I think you must tell
me at once where D'Herouville lives."

" What do you mean ? "

" I mean to go straight thither and crop his ears
for him ! "

" That you will not do."

" Aye, but I will."

" Nay, but you will not."
 
 

76 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" I tell you I will kill him."

" Then I give you my word of honour as a
gentleman," said M. de R***, solemnly, "that
you will not kill him."

" And why not, if you please ? "

" Because he is dead."

" Was it a duel ? "

" No, sickness."

" It could not in justice be otherwise. A man who
could mock such a woman was an inborn criminal and
deserved to die a rascal's death ! "

" Roquelaure," resumed M. de R***, stretching
out his hand to me, "if we were not on horseback, I
would embrace you, for Ariosto's Roland was but a
child to you. What a heart is yours, and how easily
inflamed ! "

I let M. de R*** talk on as he would. For my
fancy was completely captured, and the image of
Madame du Hallier seemed ever to be passing and
repassing before my eyes. A devouring flame seemed
to hover on my lips, the remnant of the fire lighted by
her hand. Cherished sorrows, happy days of pain
when the mind swoons upon a word, when happiness
wells out of a haphazard kiss, when impossible loves
give a pretext for thousands of delightful dreams,
whither are ye gone ? Why have ye abandoned me ?
Such sadness is the joy of youth, and makes us just
such a bed as a ship's hammock that soothes to sleep
and gently rocks us.

My friends did not leave me long to my dreams,
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 77

and before they left me insisted upon some half-dozen
bottles of Anjou wine, whereof I drank my share in
such wise as to show them that my stomach was as
sound as my heart.

That night, as I fell asleep, I was turning over
this idea in a hundred different forms.

" If I set sail for America ! "

On the following day this mad idea had happily
gone from me. . . .

With this, we may, with the reader's good will,
pass for the second time over the four or five years
we had omitted, and we will return to the point
whereto we were come before this chapter, that
is to say, when the Opposition was at its height,
and when I was in Paris.

It was not my lot to remain there long. The
agitation was almost universal in the provinces, and
it compelled Mazarin, the Queen Regent, and the
young king to leave Paris, and betake themselves
to the parts infected with revolt. In a little time
Burgundy had been brought to subjection, and
Normandy, in spite of the powerful influence that
the Duchesse de Longueville had there, had also
returned to its allegiance. Thence they proceeded
to Guyenne, and the siege of Bordeaux was deter-
mined on.

I was called on to take part in the latter under-
taking, wherein Cardinal Mazarin gave notable proofs
of his skill in strategy, and the correctness of his
dispositions in attacking a town. His Eminence,
 
 

78 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

before the decisive time, ascended the tower of
Saint-Ivony, and from that point resolved beforehand
on the order in which the action should proceed.
Some part of the king's troops has been accused of
not displaying all due zeal and activity in this siege.
I believe this accusation to be unjust, and for my
own part I can assert that the corps at whose head
I charged did its duty nobly. We had received
the Cardinal's orders to take the Faubourg de Saint-
Severin, and, by returning two or three times to the
charge, we carried it by storm. I came out of the
siege with a little more glory and a little less blood,
for I was severely wounded in it. However, I
recovered while the negotiations were in progress,
and I remember that on the day when the amnesty
was granted to the Bordelais, I was afoot once more,
to my great satisfaction.

Perhaps I had need of a few days of repose,
but it was written that the stress of life was to
leave me not one minute's truce. Ever between
Mars and Cupid, I could give no moment but the
other seemed jealous of it, and in this case the
result was that I hurried from the ramparts of
Bordeaux to the streets of Paris, as if I had been
uplifted by invisible wings.

Capricious fortune had still many victories and
many defeats in store for me.

My intrigue with Madame des Lesdiguieres will
form the subject of the succeeding chapter.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 79
 
 

CHAPTER XXX

Madame de Lesdiguieres We revert to the past A fool ! !
What the word means in a woman's mouth Serious enquiry
into the subject Description of M. de Lesdiguieres Self-
satisfaction Dangerof playing with fire A genuine passion
Roses and thorns Discouragements A cruel jest Despair
Anger A letter and the answer Impertinence paid out I
abandon the ground A retreat half in sorrow and half in
anger I take refuge with the Jesuits of Beauvais
The Reverend Father Daniel A new Saint Augustine
Religious discussions that have little to do with my state
of mind Pious recommendations of Father Daniel
Jansenius. what have I to do with thee ? I leave the
monastery Consequences of a luckless passion Vagrant
follies I take no more account of my actions Guilty
errors.

THE reader, I think, will not altogether have for-
gotten a certain little journey I took one day from Le
Grand-Mesnil to Paris in the company of Madame de
Lesdiguieres. I had serious reasons for feeling
aggrieved with that lady, and the pretty things she
had said of me to her husband had made me so ill-
disposed towards her, that I had found it in my heart
to mystify her in a way throughout a whole night
without yielding, as might very well have happened,
to the seductions of her beauty, though this might
well be reckoned among the most perfect that had
 
 

8O SECRET MEMOIRS OF

ever rejoiced my eyes. I had been wounded to the
quick, and the very essence of my self-esteem had
been attacked, so I had taken refuge in prudence, and
this had at least saved me from a humiliating rebuff.
I had felt very proud of this conquest of myself, and
I had hugged myself about it till the day when,
through a friend's indiscretion, I learned what she had
written in her letter to M. de Lesdiguieres, wherein
she had said plainly that I was a fool. . . .

A fool ! ! !

I found it hard to reconcile myself to the word, and
only accustomed myself to it with difficulty. Never-
theless, before I flew into a rage, which would have
been mere folly, for I only knew of the matter by
hearsay, I determined to await events and to preserve
a dignified and becoming attitude.

A fool ! . . . because I had been polite, diffident
and unpresuming ! A fool because I had chanted her
husband's praises in every key ! . . . A fool ! . . .
Who could tell ? . . . Possibly because I had not
paid my court to her !

This was a ray of light. Perhaps another in my
place would have taken this revelation as a crushing
blow. But I discovered in it a whole seed-bed of
brilliant hopes and a new outlook.

From the time when I learned through the
officious services of a friend that Madame de
Lesdiguieres had written my eulogy in four letters,
and that she had bestowed her confidence in that
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 8l

respect upon her husband, I promised myself not
that I would be avenged, for the injury did not strike
deep enough for that but that with all the patient
sagacity of a calm and cool philosopher, I would seek
out the cause of that unprovoked attack an attack
concerning which I may also say that it was un-
deserved.

M. des Lesdiguieres, who was a very agreeable
man at times, but whimsical beyond imagination, was
scarcely likely to interfere with my manoeuvres. He
was a husband in the broadest acceptation of the
term calm, indifferent, loving his tranquillity, and
full of a robust confidence which he derived, not from
such opinion as he might hold of his wife's virtue,
but from his high estimation of his own value. There
are people of this sort, who build themselves a
splendid pedestal and live rapt with their own praise
of themselves as in a ceaseless triumphant hymn ; and
these people are the really happy folk. They believe
with a simplicity which often carries weight with
the commonalty in their universal superiority. If
they were allowed, they would assume all elegance,
all distinction, all bravery, and all wit as their
exclusive heritage, and would leave nothing for the
rest of us. M. des Lesdiguieres, thus absorbed in
self-satisfaction, was hardly likely to prove a serious
obstacle to me. He paid too much attention to
himself to attend to me, and was too closely wedded
to his habits, both of work and pleasure, to under-

VOL. Ill 6
 
 

82 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

take a surveillance which would have deranged his
life and vexed his mind.

But though the land was almost entirely unpro-
tected on this side, yet I could not conclude it had
no protection. At the end of a month of marching
and countermarching, and of little skirmishes and
attacks, which involved no consequences, and yet
sufficed to show how the land lay, I was forced
to admit that the campaign would be long, the
attempt hazardous, and success doubtful. I had
many reasons for believing that Madame de Lesdi-
guieres had yet to learn the promptings of her heart ;
she showed nothing of the restless impatience that
characterises a woman sated with repose and tired
of freedom. She went a great deal to the court,
to the theatre, to the Hotel de Rambouillet, and,
what was most remarkable, she found amusement
everywhere, and this in my view was the worst
symptom that evoked my fears. But all these
considerations did not suffice to put me out of heart,
only I took example by the valiant knights of old,
who, if they were setting forth upon some important
conquest, passed many days in silence and meditation,
and I prepared myself for the campaign I had in
view by a seclusion that I rigorously observed, and
by freeing myself without regret from that in-
numerable host of gossamer bonds in which, I
believe, not one single hour of my life had not
been entangled. All my ideas of gallantry, pleasure,
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 83

and love were now concentrated in one, and this
thereby gained greater consistency and force. All
the images of women that haunted my mind, and
made my head a sort of harem wherein my thoughts
could walk voluptuously, vanished at the apparition
of this new image, and this was so complete that I
now scattered to the winds all that remained with me
of past attachments and souvenirs, and dedicated to
Madame de Lesdiguieres a devotion whose strict
observances absorbed every instant of my time.

But that which had been but a diversion for me at
first became a serious affair without my observing the
change. Instead of my directing the contest as I had
hoped, I found myself gradually enslaved by her.
The further I went the more I lost my self-command
that self-command which is so powerful an ally and
gives us such an incontestable advantage over our
opponents. Perceiving these signs and tokens, I
understood that I should now do better to abandon
my schemes of strategy and follow my inspirations.
Thenceforward a characteristic disorder appeared in
my manner and actions. My visits became so fre-
quent that everybody with the exception of M. de
Lesdiguieres was surprised. I used to arrive too
early in the day and leave too late at night. Some-
times I might have been seen wandering for a couple
of hours together under the duchess's balcony. If
she appeared walking abroad, my coat, sword and
breeches were sure to be visible among the party. At

62
 
 

84 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

the theatre I was at her side or opposite to her. To
cut the story short, it will suffice if I tell the intelligent
reader that I was in love in all the sweet meaning of
that divine phrase, in love as I had never expected to
be, in love as a man is who has passed into his thirties,
and finds his heart grown younger by ten years.

My undisguised enthusiasm did not avail me at
first. My passion was so plainly declared that
Madame de Lesdiguieres could not affect to be
unaware of it ; but the more I displayed it openly,
the more did she seek refuge in a chilling and
inexorable reserve, which would have wearied out
the patience and quenched the ardour of a man more
patient than myself. The various phases through
which this curious amour passed are interesting to
study. At first, Madame de Lesdiguieres affected
to have observed nothing of it, then she simulated
the most innocent surprise, then she strove to con-
vince me that I was quite unfitted to a serious
passion, and at last began to laugh at me. This
last stage of the intrigue completed my mortification,
and I began to despair seriously. I shall never
forget what she said to me one cold winter's night,
the remembrance of which still makes me shudder,
as we left Madame de Bouillon's, where we had
passed the evening in so numerous a company, and
with such a swarm of eager cavaliers, that I had
found it impossible to take my place at her side
even once.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 85

It seems that my face had portrayed my disap-
pointment, a very natural thing, but the dismal and
slack air proper to disappointment ill accorded with
the habitual posture of my mind. While we were
seeking our wraps in the vestibule, I found at last
an opportunity of offering my services to Madame
de Lesdiguieres, and even placed a kerchief about
her neck.

" Ah ! so 'tis you, Monsieur de Roquelaure,"
she said, settling her cape upon her shoulders, " I
am glad to meet you."

" That is a happiness I have vainly aspired to
all the night, Madame, but I have been deprived
of it by those more fortunate than myself. ... If
you knew how I have felt it ... I had so much
to tell you ! "

" Well, the case is different with me, for I have
but one thing to tell you."

" And that is ? "

" 'Tis a bit of advice given by a friend, and you
would do well to profit by it."

" Let us hear this advice. ..."

" Mon Dieu ! . . . 'tis very simple. I meant to
warn you, my dear Monsieur de Roquelaure, that
the new role you have taken up does not suit you
in the least, and that it is laughable. . . . Only
think ! . . . The Marquis de Roquelaure masque-
rading as the man of sentiment, the sensitive lover,
the Arcadian swain, tender, shy, and dreamy ! . . .
 
 

86 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

What a disguise ! or rather, what a travesty ! Is
it not as if Gauthier Gargouille at the Hotel de
Bourgogne were to play a serious part in one of
our great Corneille's pieces ? It is not within the
bounds of probability, it is not possible. I tell you
here in confidence, and for your guidance . . . your
airs of martyrdom have been noticed, your loud sighs
have been heard . . . and people have . . . made
merry ... at your expense."

I repressed an outburst of fury and contented
myself with replying :

" What does the opinion of others matter to me?
But what did you think, and what did you say,
Madame? "

" Oh, that is a very indiscreet question. ... I
did like everybody else, Marquis."

I was dazed by the words. She went out, and
I neither saw the door shut upon her nor did I
see her enter her coach. The insulting tones she
had plainly adopted haunted my ears like a melan-
choly bell ; I was not used to taunts of the kind,
and it seemed to me I was beginning to live in a land
of which I scarcely knew the language and the customs.
This ill-treatment jarred upon me the more because I
felt a real change in myself, and for more than six
months my thoughts, my very soul and life had been
given to this indifferent lady, who made a sport of
wounding me. What could there be for me in this
woman's heart ? Could I suppose that she bore me
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 87

a grudge for the imaginary wrong I had done her on
the journey from the Grand- Mesnil ? This would
have been to suppose in her the narrowest under-
standing and the barest silliness. Yet, that apart,
what motive could she have for hating me ? Never,
since I had devoted my homage to her, never had I
neglected an opportunity, however slight it might be,
of earning her favour and of suggesting my passion ;
so her antipathy for she had shown a real antipathy
could but concern my person. I was displeasing to
her for the very same arbitrary cause, now as in the
other cases without reasonable grounds, which made
me agreeable to others. She hated me without a
motive, and I think that of all hatreds this kind is the
deepest and most incurable.

The despair which this conviction brought me was
coupled with a mortification to which I had been a
complete stranger. The southern blood which coursed
in my veins was roused to revolt. I felt it flow more
strongly and return upon my heart. Oh, if this
woman had been a man !

But she was decidedly a woman there could be
no doubt about it, the sword was of no use against
such an adversary. So I beat my brains for a device,
I sharpened my pen as best I could, dipped it in harm-
less ink, which the mere contact sufficed to turn into
a biting poison, and wrote the following masterpiece
of a letter without any very clear idea of what the
upshot of it would be :
 
 

88 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

The MARQUIS DE ROQUELAURE to the DUCHESSE DE
LESDIGUIERES.

MADAME, You will own that you strangely misuse
the right of every young and pretty woman to exercise her
wit with impunity. This is, in truth, a privilege of your
sex. What among us would be called insult passes among
women as sprightliness, liveliness, airy raillery and sweet
mirth. They are free to give offence, and matters have
been so well arranged to their advantage, that under the
cloak of weakness they show more severity than could be
laid to the charge of the most cruel tyrants of the world.
He who should reproach them with cowardice would be a
laughing-stock what need have they to be generous or
brave ? They are women, and they are weak, and there is
no more to be said. And ye,t, Madame, fool as I am, I
sometimes entertain ideas which are not everybody's ideas,
and I fancy this camp of refuge to which you so pru-
dently resort is not so inviolable as you think, and that
you could be drawn thence, not indeed to have single com-
bat forced upon you, but to be brought as an onlooker to
such a combat undertaken in your honour. Perhaps you
do not understand my meaning ; but I will make it under-
stood. I am not the dupe of those semblances of rigour
with which you have so long destroyed my hopes. Some
other, whom I do not know, but whom you know better
than anybody in the world, is certainly the possessor of
that love which you so obstinately refuse to me. He it is
whom I would bring to account for your disdain. Show
him to me . . . where is he ? Where may he be found ?
Is he Lanoye, D'Emery, D'Andilly, De Biran, De Fiesque ?
For, let me tell you that all these worthy gentlemen are
accounted to be upon the pathway of your favours, some
approaching, some returning. As for my challenge, here
it is already made. Show this letter to him who is your
lover, Madame, and be he who he may, I augur too well
of his courage to suppose that he will not think himself in
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 89

honour bound to avenge you at once. Ask him to take to
his own charge the generous raillery you have so nobly
showered upon me. The least he can do is to answer for
you. Adieu ! Madame, the only favour I will ask of you
henceforward is, that you bring me face to face with him
who has inspired in you the brave wit to which I have
fallen the victim. When he will and where he will, I shall
be at his orders.

And I signed in full.

When Cascarel crossed the threshold of the house
carrying this insolent missive, and carrying it at the
top of his speed, as I had rigorously enjoined upon
him, I was upon the point of recalling him, and of
destroying with my own hands this sad record of
my anger. But Cascarel had strong legs, and it was
not in my nature to recoil before any folly, however
wild it might be. This one might turn to tragedy,
and I could not discern how far its consequences
would go, and this was the very reason why I finally
resolved to let it take its course. I was curious
to see the results of my work, and to realise to
what perilous and unknown ways we may be some-
times brought by a savage and unreasoned impulse.

I had scarcely had time to think over these
various considerations when I saw Cascarel return,
still running and all in a sweat. I saw there was
a letter in his hand, and at first thought it was
my own which had not been opened. But it was
not so ; it was the reply. I leave the reader to
imagine how eagerly I broke the seal. Here is the
letter word for word.
 
 

90 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

The DUCHESSE DE LESDIGUIERES to the MARQUIS DE

ROQUELAURE.

As I have nobody to send you on whom you may
vent your anger, I was tempted for a moment, Monsieur
le Marquis, to submit to my husband's view the witty
reasons you give in your letter to justify your insolence
to me. But I feared that he would not be content with
laughing at it, and in truth your singular fury does not
deserve to be treated seriously. If I were like the fair
Madame de Chateau-Guy de Murat, who, in spite of
her petticoats, is certainly a good deal like a man, and
scarcely ever goes out but in high boots, astride upon
her horse, with pistols in the holsters and a sword at
her side, I should have come to offer you combat with
equal arms at the place assigned. But, in spite of your
fire-eating manner, the style of attack you have adopted
gives me a good example which I prefer to follow. You
challenge me with the pen, and I will reply with the pen.
Since you find no place in my heart you pretend to
believe and affirm that 'tis a place taken, though in reality
you know well that this is an unworthy slander. Here
is a poor vengeance, Monsieur le Marquis! Happily,
when once I have burned your letter as I shall do in
a moment nothing will remain of the calumny but a
handful of ashes, that I shall scatter with my breath,
and the wind will carry them far away.

And now a word about the grievous crime I have
committed against you. I do not love you ! This is
intolerable to your pride, which has been misled by too
many victories and blinded by too easy triumphs. But
among what women have you lived 1 What have you
learned by your long and vaunted excursions into the fair
land of Love ? Alas ! I fear that even while your praises
were being sung here, you have but borne to the feet of
false divinities the incense that a reasonable man should
never burn but on the altar of the true gods. Does the
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE QI

man of facile success resemble those navigators who
return from most of the countries at which they touch with
hearts full of disgust and minds devoid of recollections,
because they have visited there in haste and have studied
neither language, character nor customs ? But I will say
no more. . . . What good end will such blame serve ?
Why should I seek to bring into a better way the man who,
wounded by the merely passive indifference that I have
shown him, does not refrain himself from arousing my
hatred and contempt. I have nothing to ask of that man,
nothing to tell him, for in him everything is falsified, his
understanding, his mind . . . even his heart.

It was a crushing blow. My attack had but
shown her to be greater and nobler that I had
imagined in my most frenzied exaggerations. My
unworthiness, after this little conflict, seemed to me
so plainly and evidently established, that I was
ashamed, and my first impulse was to think of
finding some corner in the world where I might
hide my face, on which I thought everybody could
read the ignominious news of my defeat. My depair
was genuine, and the deeper because there was
added to it the disappointment and humiliation that
everybody will easily imagine ; so I persisted in my
resolve to quit Paris. Two days after the incident
of the letters I engaged post-horses and started upon
the road at top speed. Where was I going ?
Whither was I being taken ? The first man I met
could have told better than I at the moment, for
though I had given the postillion precise orders, I can
truly assert that I had forgotten them.
 
 

Q2 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

I only remembered the end of my journey when I
reached it. I alighted before a great building with
high and sombre walls that cast a melancholy shade
afar and before a door of thick oak that was surmounted
by a cross.

" Where are we ? " I asked of the postillion.

He answered in amazement :

" You are where you ordered me to drive you, sir ;
at the Jesuit convent at Beauvais."

These words restored me opportunely to an appre-
ciation of the facts which I had in some sort lost in
my perturbation and my reveries. Then I remembered
that I had in fact intended to seek out an old friend of
my father's at Beauvais, who, after travelling in Africa
as a missionary, had retired to this convent about two
years before. On entering the society, he had re-
nounced his family name, which was one of the most
famous in Orleans, and was only known as the
Reverend Father Daniel. He had known me when
I was very young, and his good reception did not fail
me in spite of the too jovial reputation that attached
always and everywhere to my name. As I was in
very poor spirits the holy fathers, to whom I was
introduced at the same date, thought they saw in me
a new Saint Augustine, who had foresworn the vile
delights 'of this life, and was about to astound the
world by his conversion. The Reverend Father
Daniel took the same view, and told me as much the
following day. But as I did not wish to keep him any
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 93

longer under an illusion, I told him that it was not
my intention to take religious vows, though even that
might happen, for I was sure of nothing ; but that at
the moment I had only come to seek in the calm and
isolation of the cloister solace for that unhappiness
which my fellow-creatures had caused me by their
ingratitude and perversity. This explanation, though
in fact it explained nothing, satisfied the Reverend
Father Daniel better than I had expected. It was
not in his nature to force the vocation upon anybody,
and though he was a Jesuit, he did not carry religious
zeal to the point of seeking to effect my salvation in
spite of myself. Only when he knew that I was to
return in a few days to that impious world where the
true tenets were subject to so many wicked attacks,
he tried to make me an adept in sound doctrine and
a defender of the ancient faith attacked on all sides
by the many innovations that had originated in
Luther's audacity. Above all, he strained every
nerve to inspire me with detestation of Jansenism,
and of that imprudent bishop whose name stood for
this impious cult. During this casual sojourn among
the Jesuits of Beauvais I gained this much that I
heard the history of Jansenius, his school, and his
disputes with the Holy See many times ; but may I
be hanged if I understood a word of it ! Good Father
Daniel, who put a holy fervour into his instruction,
thought he interested me greatly by thundering a host
of discourses at my ears ; some were more and some
 
 

94 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

less intelligible, and he brought into them, with
erudition worthy of a better audience, the tendencies
of Bai'us, the heresy of Calvin, free will and predestina-
tion, the orthodoxy of the bishops and the infallibility
of the Pope, the errors of the semi-Pelagians and the
various systems of the Doctors of Flanders. The
attention I showed as I listened to him overwhelmed
him with delight. . . . Alas ! poor theologian, second
sight was lacking to thee ! He never suspected that
while his flight took him so majestically to the
high regions of learning my heavy wings scarce
skimmed above the earth, and that all my humble
interests were centred in what I had left in the world
and in my human memories.

At the end of a week this playing at a monk's life
grew so wearisome to me that I thought of packing
my trunk 'twas in sober earnest a valise a foot long
and of wishing Father Daniel the best of wishes. Our
parting was a pathetic affair. He urged upon me
with much unction the observance of those rules whose
sublime scope he had attempted to display to me, he
begged me not to swell the already formidable host of
the enemies of the Church, and gave the crowning
grace to his discourse by calling down upon me the
blessings of peace within and prosperity from Heaven.

Thus overwhelmed with celestial advantages, I took
the road for Paris and covered the distance by easy
stages. This trial had given me but a poor idea of my
taste for life in the cloisters, and all that remained
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 95

with me from my retreat in the Jesuits' monastery
was, I think, one of those insatiable appetites that
result from too long abstinence, and require for their
satisfaction a savoury diet and heaped-up dishes.

The ill-success of my passion for Madame de
Lesdiguieres brought its consequences. After the
monastery aberration came the aberration of de-
bauchery. I had determined to dull my senses at all
hazards, and I carried out this mad plan in such a way
as to scandalise even the most indulgent.

" She hates me ! " I often cried in the access of my
fury, which had become little less than a disease.
" So much the better. I will show her that I care
nothing for her hatred. She despises me! Well, she
shall have good reason for it."

Madman that I was ! I was seeking to overcome
her dislike by the very traits that had evoked it, and
I thought, while I rendered myself contemptible in
her eyes, that I was inspiring her with regrets and with
compassion . . . perhaps even with remorse ! Then
I understood better than I had ever done before, that
Love contains the commencements of every vice and
of every virtue, and of the greatest crimes as well as
of the noblest deeds. 'Tis this giddiness which impels
a man, according to the circumstances in which he is,
either to good or evil, and makes of him if he is
of the heroic cast either a prodigy of glory or a
monster of perversity.

If I, upon the occasion of which I have just
 
 

96 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

spoken, did not attain to the degree of degradation
which the second term of the dilemma implies, it is
none the less true that I plunged without restraint
into an abyss of artificial delights and intolerable
excesses, where I soon found nothing but weariness,
unreality and disgust. . . Even this did not cure me !
And I was now able to learn from my own experience
that nothing is so tenacious as a passion from which
we seek to liberate ourselves, and that all our struggles
to recover liberty only rivet the chains the closer
upon us.

The succeeding chapter will demonstrate this
beyond question to the reader if he will take the
trouble to peruse it.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 97
 
 

CHAPTER XXXI

I fall ill A fixed idea Walks at Les Feuillants My love objects
to severe discipline Torments of jealousy A gleam of hope
A torchlight hunt The piqueur The supposed lackey
Madame des Lesdiguieres is queen of the fete A compliment
on my livery A woman between two admirers Obscure
allusions The flight A race Biran and Rambouillet are
conquered A terrible incident The runaway horse Close
to death A providential rescue Madame de Lesdiguieres
and her saviour The reconciliation All places are good for
declaring oneself in Unexpected progress A tried friend-
ship A singular service is demanded of me The private
secretary A trait of heroism Enough to turn one's head
A love message.

To the fugitive frenzies of which I have named the
succeeding phases there soon followed such a prostra-
tion of my strength and will as left me able to do
nothing but regret my errors and grieve over my
shameful aberrations. This state of mind brought
physical consequences, and I fell dangerously ill and
kept my bed a whole month. I must do my friends
justice, both men and women. Not one deserted me
in these sad circumstances, and I had that inexpressible
joy, during the several days while the danger persisted,
of perceiving that I was the object of sincere anxiety
and of eager services rendered with a universal willing-
ness that touched me deeply.

VOL. in 7
 
 

98 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

When I recovered, the first name that recurred to
my memory was that of Madame de Lesdiguieres,
and the first image that arose upon my thoughts was
hers. The first time I went forth I turned my steps
towards her house, and when my sleep, becoming
calmer and more clear, was completely freed from the
confused hallucinations of fever, my first dream was
of her. . . .

I learned from Menage that she sometimes walked
in the Feuillants with much company, and this led
many to say that she was Queen of Beauty for the
moment, and that she never went out without being
surrounded by her court.

No single day passed that I did not go to the
Feuillants. I always took care to be accompanied
by somebody, so that I should not be obliged to stop.
Each time I met her, I confirmed the observation
that her husband was rarely at her side, and that two
new cavaliers, MM. de Biran and de Rambouillet
were rivals for the honour of waiting upon her. Each
time that I passed by her she preserved the same cold
and impassive look, and we exchanged salutes and
that was all.

But my love was not long satisfied with such
methods, and it must be owned that upon this diet
it had to go fasting ; jealousy wrought havoc in me,
for as I had failed to establish my rule over the fair
lady's heart, my only real consolation would have
been to see that others failed as I had done. In love
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 99

we are never charitable. I felt convinced that no
one could associate with Madame de Lesdiguieres
without loving her, I formed conjectures the one upon
the other, and made deductions the one from the other,
and the result was that I inevitably came to this con-
clusion that it was very unlikely she showed disfavour
to all her suitors at one and the same time. This
idea had great weight with me, and I felt that I should
know no peace until I had resolved the following
question, which seemed to me to be beyond all con-
tradiction the most important that any man in the
world had ever had to answer, namely : Was there
under the broad heaven any man so fortunate as to be
loved by Madame de Lesdiguieres, and if so, by what
means could I wreak my vengeance on him ?

I ransacked my mind for a long time, but found
nothing for the case ; I no longer frequented the duke's
house, and it was evident that there was the place for
me to discover unobserved what I was so eager to
know. As for the two or three circles in which it
would have been easy for me to meet the cause of my
torments, I never appeared among them from the day
when the duchess's lively wit had been so smartly
employed at my expense. Besides, I thought of my-
self as a conquered athlete, and shuddered at the
thought of offering myself as a spectacle to people
who, perhaps, would be malicious enough to show
pity at my plight and openly condole over it.

I found myself at a desperate pass. And at that

72
 
 

100 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

very time an opportunity, created by my inventive
talent, gave promise of a magnificent success. A
hunting-party was to meet by torchlight in the Forest
of Saint-Germain, and Madame de Lesdiguieres and
many ladies of the court had promised to be present
at it. No sooner had I heard of it than I determined
to be there myself, but rather as a spectator than
a participator. Yet I had a part to fill ; but this
part, as will be seen, was not one of the first import-
ance, and had the inestimable advantage of allowing
me to observe without being observed. To explain
more plainly, I bribed one of the duchess's servants,
who promised me a complete huntsman's costume
for the occasion. In this disguise, which the worthy
servant brought me in all good faith, supposing
himself the accomplice of some harmless joke merely,
I followed upon Madame de Lesdiguieres' traces,
watched all her actions, and studied her slightest
movements, for it was evident that I was not sus-
pected, and that I should be the unchosen confidant
of many fleeting gestures and whispered words.

It was to be a great day for me, and I awaited
it with impatience.

At last it came !

We were in the middle of September, and the
weather gave the most favourable promise. It was
neither hot nor cold, and the earth, moistened by
a storm of rain which had fallen on the preceding
day, was neither too dusty nor too damp, and the
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE IOI

fine thickets of the Forest of Saint-Germain scattered
afar their pleasing murmurs and their sweet frag-
rance. The start was to be made from the Count
de L * * * 's chateau. I will refrain from writing
his name here out of regard for his family, whose
fair renown he afterwards sullied. At seven o'clock
the hounds met and the horns began to sound. I
was punctual at my post. As it was customary for
these kinds of entertainments to hire what in some
houses were called valets de passage, the other servants
were not surprised to see a fresh face among them,
the more so that my huntsman's coat, I own to
my shame, fitted me marvellously, and seemed to
have been made on purpose for me. I had, too,
greatly modified my expression by cutting my mous-
taches short and wearing a red wig, which gave me
a splendidly simple air, as of a Picardy or Norman
peasant. However, as I did not wish to attract
the attention of my comrades in livery more than I
could help, I played the part of the timid youth,
and kept myself apart as much as I could. This
manoeuvre did not prevent me from keeping my
eyes open ; I keenly noticed all that passed in the
court of the chateau, the gates of which were thrown
wide open to give passage to the numerous cavalcade.
My heart beat as if it would burst my breast, and,
being desirous to keep busy-bodies off me, I had
devised the stratagem of secretly spurring my horse ;
this was an ingenious means, for I was continually
 
 

102 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

occupied in controlling his plunges, and thus was
able to leave unanswered the silly questions that
were addressed to me by my new friends the lackeys,
who, I may say in passing, are the most gossiping
and inquisitive folk I know.

It was eight o'clock when we moved off. The
whole town was at the windows. There were most
charming ladies in the party, whose costumes might
be accounted marvels of elegance and luxury. . . .
For my part, I saw but one . . . and I know not if it
were the effect of that passion which possessed my
soul, but it seemed to me that she was the fairest and
the most brilliant of all, and that she might have
passed for a goddess who had deigned to descend from
Olympus to mingle with mortals for a moment. She
had a magnificent habit of dove-coloured cloth bordered
at the edge with light gold and silver braidings, scarcely
to be discerned and delicately threaded over the ma-
terial, an underskirt of dark-coloured satin, a stomacher
of brown velvet cut low in a point ; her head-covering
was an enamelled hair-net whence hung a veil negli-
gently thrown upon her shoulders. Her fine hair,
dressed in side-ringlets, fell over her neck in wavy
locks and fluttered upon her bodice, which was cut
low enough to let those beauties be divined wherein
the perfection of divinely sculptured marble seemed
to rival the whiteness of snow. Moreover, her grace,
her dignity, her noble and simple ease were such as to
drive all her rivals to despair. Then her horse, with
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 103

arched neck, proud beneath his rich trappings, seemed
to understand what honour was done him when he was
entrusted with such a marvel. He pawed the ground
softly as if he were in a merry mood, and the fair
horsewoman, caressing him with her hand, took
advantage of his unexpected movements to show yet
more plainly the endless resources of her agility and
address.

Soon we were in the midst of the forest ; midnight
was agreed upon for a general rendezvous, and then
the more eager sportsmen broke out upon the various
alleys along which the beaters had been at work
throughout the day. It was a fine sight, these twelve
or fifteen gentlemen, setting out in different directions,
followed by a pack of hounds whose bayings might
well strike terror into the denizens of the wood, and
plunging their way amid the unsteady lights thrown
by the wavering torches through the most difficult
passages and along the darkest paths. The whole
chase would offer a fine subject for description, but
with my reader's goodwill, I will limit myself to what
I saw. When the feminine portion of the cavalcade
abandoned all pretentions beyond a simple promenade,
I of course stayed among that part of the escort which
was separated from the hunting-party. From that
moment I commenced my observations, and as will be
seen, my imagination had abundant scope for inter-
pretations, inductions, espials, surprises and torments.

As at the Feuillants, MM. de Biran and de
 
 

IO4 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

Rambouillet took their places at Madame de Lesdi-
guieres' side. The former seemed as melancholy as
the latter seemed merry ; whence I concluded with
a great show of reason, it will be allowed, that the
one had experienced some mortifying refusal, while
perhaps the other . . . !

This idea so startled my nerves that I dug my
spurs into my horse without intending it. . . . He
reared, and then broke into a gallop without my being
able to hold him in. I was obliged, in order to return
to my station, that is to say, to get behind the party
again, to pass completely round the noble company.

I heard Madame de Lesdiguieres say to Madame
de Bouillon, bending towards her :

" Does that groom belong to you, my dear
Countess ? See ... he has not a bad manner."

Madame de Bouillon looked me straight in the
face and answered :

" I do not know him. No doubt he belongs to the
Due d' Orleans. They told me that he had lent us
some of his people for this evening."

It was flattering. It seems I had the bearing
of a lackey from a good house !

The first two hours of the promenade were point-
less enough. Conversation was proceeding at several
points at once, but remained within the bounds of
quiet intimacy. They were talking in low tones,
and now and then a smothered laugh or the sound
of a sentimental discussion served to break the
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 105

monotony of the scene. I, among the servants, who
out of respect almost all kept silence, began to grow
weary of this sameness, which threatened more and
more to become gloomy, when the fanfares and the
shouts of the huntsmen afar in the forest very oppor-
tunely brought to our ears the liveliest and merriest
melody. It was a concert of invisible instruments,
to which the forest echoes responded lovingly, and
the sounds of it, borne on the breeze, made the
branches rustle and the leaves whisper, and the birds
of the night call, as if they had been suddenly
awakened. At the sound our little cavalcade broke
up and dispersed in several detachments, each taking
the path that lay before it.

Madame de Lesdiguieres, more active and bolder
than the rest, penetrated alone into a broad alley
better illumined than others by the first rays of
the moon, calling aloud that she would go to meet
the hunters, even if she had to take part in their
feats and lend them a helping hand upon occasion.

M. de Biran clapped both spurs into his horse
so as to come up with her before M. de Rambouillet.
But the latter deceived his rival by a clever feint,
and by making his horse jump the ditch of the
sidewalk, rendered himself master of the situation.
XVhen Madame de Lesdiguieres saw them both rise
up like phantoms on her left and on her right, she
could not refrain from saying to them :

" Well, gentlemen, have you sworn to retain me
 
 

106 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

without pity in the net of your gallant protestations ?
I shall come to think of you as the two doors of
my prison. I beg you not to be harsher to me
than to a butterfly or a bird . . . leave my flight
free ! "

" We cannot allow you to be found alone in the
forest at such an hour," said Biran.

" We are fulfilling a duty," added Rambouillet.

" Ah, yes . . . duty ! . . . That is another fine
tyranny invented by men, who often talk of inde-
pendence, and show the greatest ingenuity in finding
means how they may be slaves."

" The slavery we seek with you," replied Ram-
bouillet, gallantly, " is ten thousand times better
than freedom."

" The whole court is enslaved to you," added
Biran, " as you know."

" Nay," replied Madame de Lesdiguieres, almost
seriously, " my pretensions have no such scope as
that. I do not seek to exercise a tyranny upon
anyone; but I would allow no one to exercise
tyranny upon me."

" Oh, oh ! " said Biran, in an incredulous tone.

" You do not believe it ? "

" We hesitate," said Rambouillet, " to attribute
to you that coldness and apathy of the sentiments
which nothing in nature warrants."

" Whence I am to conclude," replied Madame
de Lesdiguieres, with comical gravity, " that if the
 
 

THE UUC DE ROQUELAURE 107

reproach were well founded, I should be in your
eyes ... an exception ... a prodigy . . . nay,
who knows ? . . . a monstrosity perhaps ! "

" Undoubtedly," said M. de Biran in the same
tone ; " but if we are to tell you frankly, we have
every reason to believe that this strong and valorous
soul of yours becomes more human in solitude, when
prying glances are absent."

" What do you mean ? "

" I share his opinion," resumed M. de Rambouillet
eagerly, " and we must add as our justification that
we are not alone in thinking thus. . . . With my own
ears I have heard your heart which affects so proud
an indifference accused at court of being secretly
haunted by a passion that is known to none, whose
happy object no one has been able to name, a passion
that guards it, so to say, from all assault ..."

" Indeed ? . . . And by what symptoms have
these penetrating observers, who must be mighty
fine heart doctors, discerned the existence of the
malady ? "

" By your melancholy, which has been remarked
upon a hundred times during the last months ....
by the weariness that pursues you everywhere
... by the continual desire for change which
makes you move so frequently from one residence
to another ... in a word, by a thousand scarce
perceptible signs that I cannot enumerate . . .
though they are as plain as day."
 
 

I08 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" Has M. de Biran perceived as much ? "

" Yes, Madame, like everybody . . . neither
more . . . nor less . . ."

" I was far from supposing," said Madame de
Lesdiguieres with feeling, " that I was so closely
watched . . . but do you know, gentlemen, that such
a system would prevent us poor women from being
sad, or laughing, or sighing in your presence. By such
a method our most innocent fancies might be in-
terpreted to our disadvantage . . . and you do not
understand that this tyranny frets us, vexes us,
embarrasses us ! "

" Oh, allow me," said Rambouillet.

" One word," added Biran.

" I will hear nothing more," interrupted Madame
de Lesdiguieres in a tone that was half gay and half
grave, " and to escape finally from your persecutions,
gentlemen, I shall take to flight ; catch me if you
can."

And she plunged into the thick of the forest at the
top of her horse's speed, he being one of the finest
and strongest I have ever seen. The beasts ridden
by MM. de Biran and de Rambouillet were not
nearly equal to the one which already had the start
of them by its sudden and unexpected rush ; so they
shortened their pace at last, wearied and bewildered
by the many turns and twists of the clever horse-
woman, and gave up a pursuit which they saw would
lead to nothing.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE IOQ

" She's as uncertain as she is coquettish," mur-
mured M. de Biran in a tone that expressed his
mortification.

"A feather-brain ! " remarked M. de Rambouillet.
" Perhaps she will reflect if we leave her. If you
take my advice, cher ami, we shall return to our
other ladies."

" That is my view . . . but it would be well, out
of curiosity, to send someone after her to put her in
the way again. Here, huntsman," he added, address-
ing me, " are your beast's legs sound ? "

" Thoroughly, Monseigneur."

" Well, follow the road ahead of you, try to find
Madame la Duchesse de Lesdiguieres, and bring her
to the rendezvous."

I had no need of such a mouthful of orders ; I
started at top speed in the direction they showed me,
and disappeared from their sight.

It was a long time before I could discover the
trace that I was so ardently seeking ... for a
moment I thought I had lost it completely . . .

On a sudden a terrible neighing resounded in my
ears; I caught a mingled sound of horse's hoofs
striking upon stones and of a low outcry coming half-
stifled from one oppressed by terror. The sounds
redoubled ... I pushed ahead, and saw the duchess
coming towards me bending over her horse, whose
mane she had seized, breathless, bewildered, crying
for help in a heartrending and broken voice ! A vast
 
 

110 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

ravine gaped open like a funnel at the end of the
road that her runaway horse had taken ... a few
seconds more, a few paces more, and she would be
killed . . . !

I sprang to earth ... I so ran that I might come
sidewise upon the road at the moment the horse
passed, and at the risk of being broken to pieces and
killed on the spot, I seized the bridle and clung to it
with all my might.

The frightened beast dragged me the space of
forty paces. But yielding at last to the violent
pressure of the bit, on which I threw my whole
weight, he stopped . . . and Madame de Lesdiguieres
was able to sink to the ground.

I arose, stiff and shaken, and tied the horse to a
branch.

The duchess had already recovered from her fright ;
nothing but a slight pallor upon the cheeks, which
were usually freshly rosy, bore witness to the terrible
danger she had just escaped.

" The name," she asked, approaching me, " the
name of him who has saved me ? "

" What does the name matter to you, Madame ?
So long as you know it not, you can thank him whom
you deign to say has saved you. If you knew it, he
perhaps would have to ask pardon."

" Who are you ? " she asked anxiously.

" I am ... I am Roquelaure."

She made no movement, and uttered not a syllable.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE III

So both of us remained in face of one another, awaiting
perchance some sign to rescue us from this cruel situa-
tion . . . she was generous ; it was she who took the
first step towards me, stretching out her hand to me.

How many kisses did I not impress upon it ! I
could not weary of pressing to my lips' those fingers
whose very warmth was my handiwork, for but for me
the chill of death would have suddenly frozen them. . .
As she did not resist my caresses, I used and abused
the silent permission accorded me.

" You will think me mad," I cried in the height of
my frenzy, " but at the risk of bringing upon myself
yet harder epithets than those with which you once
overwhelmed me, my voice must utter to you the cry
of my heart : I love you, I love you, I love you ! "

She showed neither displeasure nor anger, but
merely said to me gently :

" Be calm, I pray you, I believe in your love, and
should be happy to respond to it ; but that is im-
possible for me ... it is quite impossible."

And as she uttered the words there was a strange
vibration in her voice. She continued, pressing my
hand :

" Will you refuse my friendship ? "

" Refuse it ! I, who would accept death from you ! "

" Can I count upon your friendship ? "

" Remember to-night, Madame la Duchesse, and
require no more."

" Yes, you are right . . . and I can trust your
 
 

112 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

friendship now. Well, will you allow me to put it
to the test to-morrow ? "

" At once."

" No, to-morrow . . . come in the evening, about
nine o'clock ... I shall await you at my house ;
perhaps I shall have a great service to ask of you."

I shall never forget our charming walk afoot from
the scene of the occurrence to Count de L * * * 's
chateau, whither the hunting party had not yet re-
turned. She entered alone, and I quietly disappeared.
Two hours afterwards, when I had been on tiptoe to
learn what happened afterwards, I heard that a groom
had been sent into the wood to find the horse we had
left there, for we had seen that his leg was hurt. As
for my beast, I had paid no heed to him at the moment
of peril, and he had returned to his place in the stables.
These circumstances gave occasion to many interpreta-
tions, each one droller than the last. They said that
Madame de Lesdiguieres owed it only to her own skill
that she had escaped from danger, and her reputation
as a horsewoman was enhanced. The fact that one
of the horses had returned without its rider added a
fantastic gloss to the tale, which made it the more
welcome. It was evident that the huntsman who had
ridden the beast, and who would never be seen again,
was a supernatural being who had transformed himself
into a wild animal or been carried away by the devil.
The worthy servant who had lent me my livery alone
knew the truth ; but he was discreet a rare quality
with his kind and the secret was well kept. . . ,
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 113

On the following evening when the clocks of Paris
were striking nine, I called upon the Duchess, and was
announced.

She was alone, and never had she appeared to me
more beautiful ; she thanked me for my punctuality,
and began to talk of commonplace matters. Urged by
curiosity, I besought her to leave me in suspense no
longer, but to tell me without more delay what she
asked of my zeal and devotion.

" Then I beg you to grant me your attention," she
said, drawing her chair nearer to mine, so that she
could rest her elbows upon the table between us ; " you
yourself may judge of the importance of the avowal I
am about to make to you, for I must tell you that it
concerns more than my life my honour. I place my
honour under the safeguard of yours, Monsieur de
Roquelaure. Am I not right in choosing you from
all the rest to receive my secret ? And you will not
betray it ? "

What answer could I make ? None. She under-
stood as much, and said in passionate tones that reached
my heart, as if they had been the icy point of a dagger:

" I love a gentleman of the court, Monsieur de
Roquelaure, and I have loved him silently and in
my secret thoughts for more than six months. I
have reason to think this gentleman loves me in
return, but the coldness I have ever affected towards
him might at length be adopted by him against me.
I think he is avoiding me, that I shall become in-

VOL. Ill 8
 
 

114 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

different to him, and am on the point of losing him ... I
have exhausted all my strength in the struggle . . .
I can do no more ... I want him to return to me,
to know that I am unhappy, to know that I love
him . . ."

" Why do you not tell him so ? " cried I with an
aversion that I could not hide.

" I should die of shame."

" Write to him, Madame la Duchesse."

" I have thought of that . . . but you do not
know me, Monsieur de Roquelaure. My character
is a strange mingling of childish fears and headlong
rashness. I have taken pen in hand a hundred times,
and as often the pen has fallen from my grasp without
having traced a single word. A letter is overwhelming
evidence against a woman ; treachery, negligence, or
some unforeseen mischance may bring it within the
power of a husband, or a babbler, or an enemy ! . . .
Handwriting, even if it be disguised, is always
recognised ... if only you would, Monsieur de
Roquelaure ..."

" What, Madame ? "

" You do not understand me ? "

" Indeed, I dare not."

" It is only this ... a few lines written to my
dictation."

" To the man who has won your love ? . . . Oh,
Madame ! "

" So the great friendship you offered me just now
shrinks from a sacrifice ? "
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 115

" Yes, from such a sacrifice . . . and I do not
even understand. . ."

" How I could ask it of you, I suppose ? "

" You have guessed my thought."

" Then you do not understand that I am asking of
you the noblest and loftiest sacrifice by which I could
prove your friendship . . . you do not understand the
trust of a woman who, weak and without defence,
comes to you and says : ' I have a secret on which
my happiness my happiness and my reputation
depend, a secret that I have avowed to no one in
this world, and I make you the keeper and warder
of it with no other warranty but your honour.' You
do not understand that in acting thus I abandon
myself to you as much as to him whom I love . . .
Ah, Monsieur de Roquelaure, I thought to have found
a different heart in you."

My breast seemed weighted with sobs scarcely to
be repressed. But I restrained them with an effort,
and snatching up a pen that seemed to have been
laid ready for me, I murmured in a scarce audible
voice :

" I should be a traitor if, after receiving the
beginning of such a confidence, I did not demand its
completion. The sacrifice shall be thorough. Dictate
to me, Madame la Duchesse, and I will write."

She sat supporting her head upon both her hands,
while I made myself completely ready to act as her
private secretary.

82
 
 

Il6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

Then she uttered these two words in an unsteady
voice :

" Mon ami ..."

I could not repress a deep sigh, and at length
brought myself to repeat the words so as to encourage
her to brave the obstacles to this difficult piece of
business " Mon ami ! "

The Duchess resumed with a fuller confidence :

" The time has come to show you the secret of my heart.
For nearly a year I have met your devotion with a severity
which my position imposed upon me as a law. Alas for
us poor women ! ... do not our most praiseworthy re-
solves fade away ? Everything conspires against us ; and
though our courage be well nigh invincible when the
enemy stands before us, yet at the sight of real grief or
genuine despair it abandons us. When we succeed in our
defence, 'tis not so much our virtue that aids us as a con-
viction, true or false, that we are not loved. That, man
ami . . ."

I stopped once more . . . she resumed with a
certain gentle persistency :

" That, mon ami, is the real and sincere explanation of
my long hesitation with you. I felt assured was it my
fault ? that you did not love me. Now I think the re-
verse. Am I in error ? Oh, then may Heaven leave me
at least my illusion, for I feel that I cannot live without it.
Now I have but to give you conclusive proof of the love I
no longer seek to conceal from you. You know that my
husband has been absent a fortnight at Grand-Mesnil,
and that he will not leave the country till the end of the
month. So until then I shall be quite alone ; 'tis as much
as to say yours as you will."
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE Iiy

" No, no," cried I, casting the pen away, " I will
write no more."

" Oh," she answered, with an angelic gentleness,
" but you are bound to go on to the end."

Once again I took up my pen, for I was subdued
to her in spite of myself, and she continued :

" To-morrow evening at nine o'clock I shall be at my
house. I think I may be so sure of holding the chief
place in your thoughts that I need not sign my name.
Neither your heart nor your thoughts will find it hard to
recognise me. Farewell ! mon ami . . . till to-morrow."

I was overcome, my brain whirled, and my limbs
were as lead. She took the letter from me, folded it,
wrote the address upon it herself in a very small
hand, and then enclosed it in an envelope, which she
sealed in three places with green wax. While this
was doing, I had no power of my senses, I was burn-
ing as in a fever, and I leaned against the furniture as
a blind man might have done, moving to one piece
after another as if I thus sought my way out.

" This is not all," said she.

" Ah," said I with a stupefied air, " there is some-
thing more ? "

" I must know if you agree to take this letter to
its address ? "

" Myself?"

" Yourself."

" In person ? "

" Yes . . . but with all possible mystery."
 
 

Il8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

"Very well . . . give me the name, Madame la
Duchesse, the name ! "

" You see that it is hidden beneath the envelope
. . . may I claim a new promise from you ? "

" Am I not your friend ? " I replied with a bitter
smile.

" Well, make a vow to me that you will not open
that letter till to-morrow . . . precisely at midday."

" I make the vow ! "

" Remember that I am entirely committed to your
loyalty."

" I shall not forget it."

" Farewell, Monsieur de Roquelaure ! "

" Farewell ! "

I went down the stairs sometimes stumbling
against the balusters, sometimes against the wall. I
was more dead than alive, and I started to walk in
the streets at haphazard, not clearly knowing whither
I went.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE IIQ
 
 

CHAPTER XXXII

A walk by night in the streets of Paris Charamande, porte-
parasol to Cardinal de Richelieu A way of killing time
A night with Ninon Masquerades M. de Segrais,
Mademoiselle's 'poet The page of Henry II. A saraband
M. de Segrais enamoured A singular taste Is it a girl
or is it a boy ? M. de Segrais takes his chance Boldness
rewarded Mademoiselle Desoeuillets A madrigal in a
plate M. de Rambouillet's joke Piquet between M. de
Choiseul and Bautru Luck M. de Larochefoucauld inter-
venes A new kind of bet How Bautru won five hundred
louis from M. de Larochefoucauld I try to forget my
troubles in sleep The stroke of noon A pleasant surprise.

I WAS so perturbed after my interview with
Madame de Lesdiguieres that I could not make
up my mind to go home like a quiet citizen. I
wandered for a long time about the streets, along
the quays, and around the Tuileries, with no clear
object, but merely intending to reflect upon what
had just happened. But I had to stop somewhere ;
and I know not whither chance or opportunity might
have carried me, if I had not met Charamande,
formerly povte-parasol to Cardinal de Richelieu, whom
I had not seen for nearly three years, and he, per-
ceiving me as he passed in his carriage, cried out
to me in his shrill voice at the turning of the Pont-
Neuf.
 
 

120 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" Roquelaure," said he, " whither are you going ? "

" Where the devil may be pleased to lead me,"
I answered, " and I think he knows but little more
about it than I do myself."

" Are you going to Ninon's ? "

" What are they doing there to-night."

" Do you not know ? "

" No, on my honour."

"Why, then, have you come out of the Bastille,
that you do not know that to-day, the seventh of
September, between eleven and twelve, there is to
be supper, dancing, a masquerade, and a play at the
Marais ? "

" Charamande, my friend, I have not come from
the Bastille, but from a prison a hundred times more
grievous and relentless, whence I think I shall never
emerge into freedom. ..."

A heavy sigh completed this avowal, and Chara-
mande exclaimed :

" The devil ! It seems a serious case, and it must
be treated. You are a fine dancer, Roquelaure, so
come ... I will have you to dance the first saraband
with Ninon."

Though I was little disposed to divert myself in
noisy pleasures, yet I made him press me no further,
but took my place in Charamande's coach. We came
to Ninon's close upon midnight. The fete was really
magnificent, and some charming costumes were to be
seen there. The fair Liance, the most exquisite
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 121

adornment of the ballets of that time, was dressed as
an hour, and her attire drew all gazes to her. Some
others, whose names were scarcely known, were
conspicuous either by their beauty or by the richness
and taste of their fancy dress ; but none could com-
pare with the mistress of the house. Ninon de
Lenclos, surrounded by women, was like a goddess
escorted by nymphs, or like the sun amid a constella-
tion. Her face was like a splendid star, whereby all
others were absorbed and brought to insignificance.

Who would imagine it ? I was sad and well-nigh
weary amidst this joyous rout, and the merry sound
of it did not even divert me from my misery. Madame
de Lesdiguieres' last words were dinning in my ears,
and they held my imagination prisoner in an enchanted
circle whence it could not escape. The Bastille, as I
had said a little while before to Charamande, was
nothing to that prison.

A singular adventure happened to M. de Segrais
during the evening. He was seated in a corner of the
salon, and he had fixed a silent attention upon a
charming little page, whose costume, marvellously
well cut to the mode of Henry II. 's time, displayed an
elegant shape and a perfectly well-set form. He had
a fine grey hat with a grey feather turned down over
the ear, a sword with a white sheath, and a ruff of
the most precious point de Venise lace. His graceful
and pleasing manner drew all the women around him.
Some of them had even tried to remove the black
 
 

122 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

satin mask which hid his face. But he had resisted
all these provocations, and to the great disappoint-
ment of Chatillon and Rambouillet, who had come to
offer their hands to Ninon for a saraband, the page
won the favour that was refused to them. Then
murmurs could be heard here and there. But what
was to be done against a mere child ? Henry II.'s page
was indebted to his seeming weakness for feeling
secure amid a triumph that aroused so much jealousy.

M. de Segrais did not take his eyes off the group
of dancers. When the violins ceased playing, he made
his way to the page, whispered a few words in his ear,
then in spite of some slight resistance, made no scruple
to take his arm. Two minutes later he took him off
into the next room and began a very animated and
mysterious conversation. The bonny page's dis-
appearance was soon remarked upon, and M. de
Segrais was sought out in the little room whither he
had retired to talk more freely with his new friend.

Thereupon war in due form was declared against
Mademoiselle's poet. He was accused of insidious
conduct, and of seeking his pleasure at the cost of
others. The women asserted that in carrying off the
little page he was stealing an admirer from them ;
the men told M. de Segrais that his conduct was an
offence against the entire sex.

Segrais received the attack like a veteran and a
man of wit. When the uproar had subsided, he
replied :
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 123

" The reproaches you address to me from all sides
are well-grounded if this page is really what he ap-
pears to be ; but though I have not been able yet
to get from him any clear assurance about what I am
so interested in knowing, I declare myself his cavalier
at all risks, and at my peril avow for him all the
attachment, all the affection ... to cut it short . . .
all the love of which he is worthy."

" ' Tis going a long way," said Ninon.

" Why so ... if 'tis after all a girl ? "

" But if 'tis a boy?" said Charamande.

" Beware, 'tis a boy," repeated all the men at
once.

" You think so ? "

" Yes."

" Let him be what he will, I take my chance,"
replied Segrais.

" But it's horrible," cried the women, choking with
laughter.

" The matter is the more serious," said I in my
turn, "that M. de Segrais' word is his bond, and
that he is not a man to recoil at anything."

" Monsieur de Roquelaure is right ; and though
I were reduced to the role of the shepherd Corydon
sighing in vain, I should take Virgil as my excuse,
and I should perform my part."

Hereupon there was an outburst of laughter and
a cross-fire of jests with a more or less veiled in-
tention.
 
 

124 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" Such a scandal here," said Ninon, affecting a
stern dignity ; " I will not allow it. Pretty page of
Henry II., I command you to take off your mask."

" Willingly," said a little honey-sweet voice, " be-
sides, I am beginning to find it hot, and I am eager
to reward M. de Segrais for having guessed what I
am alone among you all."

The mask fell, and disclosed the freshest face that
can be imagined. An abundance of fine hair, held
captive till then under a light felt hat, spread in silky
wreaths over the shoulders and to the waist of the
enchanting girl. There was a murmur of admiration
around her, and Ninon, surprised at having been
deceived like the others, said, as she ran up to
embrace her :

" My child . . . how I congratulate you. Yours
is a pretty age. Only at sixteen can you be a pretty
woman and yet be like a man . . . two summers
more, and there will be no more mistaking. Gentle-
men," she continued, now addressing the male part of
the company more especially, " I commend my little
friend to you ; you will see her first appearance some
evening at the Hotel de Bourgogne in one of the
pieces of our excellent Corneille or of old Rotrou.
She is Mademoiselle Desoeuillets."

Though she had not yet been seen at the theatre,
Mademoiselle Desoeuillets had one of those early
reputations which grow round little marvels before
their appearance on the world's stage. We thronged
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 125

around her, and pledged ourselves to be present in a
body at her first appearance, which in fact took place
a little while afterwards, and happily fulfilled all ex-
pectations.

Assured that his prize was a woman, and more, a
most charming one, M. de Segrais carried the joke
through to the end, and thought it amusing, while
everyone else was convinced about the little page's
sex, to take his turn at expressing doubts, though the
matter seemed sufficiently proved, to judge by ex-
periences. He followed Mademoiselle Desoeuillets
all the night, affecting incredulity, and begging her
to find some means of proving the truth to him more
convincingly. However, he did not carry this sport
beyond the bounds of a measured gallantry, and she
was the first to laugh at it. They say, however, that
the intrigue thus lightly begun, on the very next day
suddenly became a serious affair. However that may
be, it is none the less true that M. de Segrais had
been really wrought upon ; this may be judged by the
sudden whipping-up of his steed Pegasus, whose pace
was slow enough as a rule, and who suddenly took
the bit between his teeth that night.

While we were taking our places for supper, and
Mademoiselle Desoeuillets was repairing the disorder
of her hair as best she could, the author of Athis,
armed with a pencil, improvised the following madrigal
on the bottom of his plate.

For so sluggish a versifier as M. de Segrais, this
achievement was a real proof of love :
 
 

126 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

You, Phyllis, are a man, I vow ;
Your conquests are unbounded now.
What, would you reign in every part ?
And rule the male and female heart ?

Our sex, brought captive to your knees,
Is but a half of what can please ;
For all must worship. How can I
Love's nets in such confusion ply ?

My passion thus torments me, grieves me,
Yet nothing of the pain relieves me.
Raw am I, clumsy, crude and coy ;
How can I ever love a boy !

The verses were certainly not wonderful ; but, like
all women who assume the part of the Muses, Made-
moiselle Desoeuillets was no less susceptible to the
pride of having inspired them, and no one could help
heartily applauding M. de Rambouillet when, having
received the plate from the poet's hand to present it
to the girl, he said, with a bow :

" This, Mademoiselle, is from M. de Segrais, who
sends you a dish of his own confection."

Before withdrawing I carried a reconnaissance as
far as the card-room. The first party to which chance
led me was composed of men only, and was divided
into two distinct camps, where they were playing
gleek on one side and piquet on the other. Just as I
entered, one of the gentlemen at gleek was pocketing a
windfall of a thousand ducats. As I knew no one
among them, I made my way towards the other
table, hoping to be luckier there. And there in fact
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 127

were several of my friends looking on, while one of
the players was Bautru, who was as deep in the
cards as a priest in his breviary, and his opponent
I soon recognised as the Comte de Choiseul, who
appeared to be playing at random, as it often appears
when luck is on a man's side.

The explanation they gave me confirmed my fore-
cast ; Bautru was losing a round sum, while M. de
Choiseul had won ten hands at piquet in three-
quarters of an hour. As for the latter, I must do
him the justice of saying that he was tired of such
a run of luck, and annoyed at it, and would have
been well enough pleased to lose a time or two.
Scarcely had I turned my eyes upon the green cloth,
when I saw him throw down his cards, while he
said :

" I am playing for ten . . . and here is thirty,
my dear Bautru, and you have not scored a point."

" Well, the upshot is I am out, and the loser,
and beaten again. . . . By your leave, Monsieur le
Comte, I now owe you five hundred louis."

" Do you take your revenge ? "

" Why not ? Double or quits."

" You mean it ? "

" Assuredly."

" You are wrong in persisting, Bautru," said M.
de Choiseul. " My fingers tell me that I am going
to have more from you."

" Let us see ! . . . I have so much confidence in
 
 

128 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

this round that I am almost inclined to add the six
louis I have left to my stake."

" It would be madness . . ."

" I shall risk it."

" Gentlemen," cried M. de Choiseul, addressing
those about him, " you are the witnesses that if
Bautru ruins himself he will have himself to blame.
The thousand louis will go the same way, I promise
you."

" Oh, oh ! that's to be seen," said Bautru, shuffling
the cards with grotesque energy.

" If I were the government," said a voice that I
had not yet heard in the conversation, rising from
the back of a neighbouring group, " I should prohibit
certain persons from play, and certainly M. de Bautru
would be included in the prohibition."

Some of those present cried out upon these words,
which had been uttered by M. de Larochefoucauld.

"Yes, gentlemen," said M. de Larochefoucauld,
drawing near, " and I maintain that my resolve would
have an excellent effect. There are some sorts of
men who ought to keep from cards as they would
from fire ; you have no idea of the disasters, both
little and great, which may ensue from this passion
when it is carried beyond bounds. In a moment of
overwhelming misfortune, the ablest general may
forget his plan of battle, the tenderest lover the lady
of his thoughts, and the merriest man of wit his
pleasant vivacity. There is no need to say, my
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE I2Q

dear Bautru, that the last allusion is addressed to
you."

" I thank Monsieur le Due cordially," replied
Bautru. " Tis true that they give me, I know not
wherefore, a reputation for ready wit, which often
proves the heaviest and most difficult burden to carry
that I know. No matter, let it be deserved or not,
a man must earn his reputation ... so I would
give a great deal to be able to prove forthwith and on
the spot to the Duke, that in spite of the many kicks
with which fortune has favoured me during the last
hour, I still have my mind clear enough and as
free from gloomy fumes as if I had just slept or
dined well. . . ."

" You might be put to a hard proof," said the
Duke, smiling.

" Well," said Bautru, " I accept it without know-
ing it."

M. de Larochefoucauld reflected for some moments
and resumed :

" Well, I will give you a fair chance, and I will
not take you up without warning ; I am going to join
in the game, but shall take not the least notice of
the cards. What are the stakes ? "

" Five hundred and odd louis."

" Good ... if you win, all is for the best, for
the test will be postponed to another time . . . but
. . . you may lose. . . ."

" Nothing is impossible," said Bautru.

VOL. in 9
 
 

I3O SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" Well, in that case I suggest a means whereby
you should not pay M. de Choiseul yourself."

" Then who would pay him ? "

" I should."

" Let us see the means."

" 'Tis just simply a bet. Now listen, gentlemen.
There is no living soul that M. de Bautru yields to
for the quickness of his answers. All the same I
will wager that when he sees he has lost his hand,
he will not be cool enough to pass a jest."

" And if he passes one ? " asked the Comte de
Choiseul.

" I guarantee his wager to you."

" Do you take the bet ? " asked Chatillon.

" You cannot ask the question seriously, for I can
only be the gainer," said Bautru ; " but who is to
decide if it is a jest ? "

" Everybody," said M. de Larochefoucauld, " and
you shall be the first, Bautru, for you are a good
judge of these matters."

" To risk so great a loss without a chance of
gain ! " murmured the gambler, with signs of anxiety.
" You are very sure you will win ? "

" I do not say that."

" H'm, h'm," said Bautru, who seemed undecided,
" here is a mighty to do ... to find a droll, sharp,
witty saying ... at the very moment of catastrophe
. . . the fact is . . ."

" The fact is," interrupted M. de Larochefoucauld,
" I defy you to do it."
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 131

" Well," said Bautru with a sigh, " let us see."

The round was begun and the most profound
silence was preserved by the onlookers. The buzzing
of a fly could have been heard distinctly.

The first hand, which was of decisive importance,
was fatal to Bautru.

The second the same.

At the third there was a slight gleam of hope.

At the fourth M. de Choiseul, who was first, took
up splendid cards. He had already marked ninety-
one. He threw a five to the ace on the table and
said :

" Five ! "

" Five ! " cried Bautru. " I never thought it was
so late. I must go back to my wife. Au revoir,
gentlemen ! "

He made a pretence of leaving us, while we all
roared with laughter, and M. de Larochefoucauld
drew the five hundred louis from his pocket and
handed them to M. de Choiseul.

I came back to my own house, tired enough,
about six o'clock in the morning, and as a result
I dozed, if I did not sleep, till midday, the fatal
time which was to reveal to me the man I was to
hate so bitterly.

Twelve struck. I tore asunder the envelope,
and nearly lost my balance with joy and surprise.
The name . . . was mine ! "

92
 
 

132 SECRET MEMOIRS OF
 
 

CHAPTER XXXIII

What happened to me at a performance of Eurydice The
Chevalier de Ponceville His insolence A challenge A
meeting behind the Innocents A farcical duel How M.
de Ponceville made me travel One foot in the cemetery
A jest in lieu of a thrust A last word about the Duchesse
de Lesdiguieres The true and lamentable history of the
Baroness de Preverenge Sketch of her husband Genea-
logist and huntsman What a man may learn while he
is quietly walking among the hills Pierre Gibaut the spy
A trafficker in secrets How De Preverenge paid for
the services of his majordomo The abyss The Chevalier
de Puy- Robert The obliging husband A genial repast
Tragi-comedy Singular imagination of a husband in
extremities A mistress shared A favour valued at two
hundred ducats A lover shown out Between husband
and wife The refinement of vengeance.

A FEW days later I was concerned in a slight
adventure which I may narrate here.

It was at a representation of Eurydice, one of the
many Italian operas which successfully tried their
fortunes in France under the especial patronage of
Cardinal Mazarin. I was not to be with Madame
de Lesdiguieres till nine in the evening (it will
be remembered that this was her time), and not
knowing whither to go, in my impatient mood, I be-
took myself at last to the theatre. I took my seat in
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 133

a box where at first I was alone, but I was quickly
joined there by an old man whom I did not know,
but I soon entered into conversation with him.

The next box was occupied by a certain Chevalier
de Ponceville, a man ill-received, but a great braggart
in words, whom I had seen once or twice at the
receptions of M. d'Orleans. I think he was soliciting
at that time the command of a regiment of light horse,
but had not as yet been able to obtain it. I believe,
too, that he was somewhat lacking both in ancestry
and means. With him were two women who were
very well known for their pretensions to be women of
acquirements, and were called Mesdames d'Ambert
and de Laverdac. It was as much as Ponceville
could do to hold his own in such good company, and
and it was easy to see that he was trying to play the
hero. He had several times affected to find fault
when I was applauding, and to express his displeasure
upon the top of my approval. In vain I told him in
an undertone that he was wrong to put himself
forward so, and that furthermore the music of
Eurydice was as pleasing as any that had yet been
heard in Paris.

I know not what bee he had in his bonnet . . .
but he cried :

" Egad, Monsieur de Roquelaure, where music is
concerned, 'tis well known you are but a poor
creature."

I felt an eager longing to throw Ponceville's hat
 
 

134 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

out of the box or flick him in the face in sight of
everybody. But I had the good sense to control this
impulse, which would have caused a scandal, and I
said to him, low enough to avoid the attention of the
audience, but loud enough to be heard by Mesdames
d'Ambert and de Laverdac, who were seated in front
of us:

" Monsieur de Ponceville is extremely kind to
make that courteous distinction in speaking of me as
man and musician. Tis more than I can do for him."

Ponceville turned very pale, for he was as cowardly
as he was insolent. He began tugging at his ruffles
to have something to do, and tore the lace of one of
them, while he turned upon me a glance that was
meant to be scornful, but fear took the place of im-
pertinence in spite of his efforts ; he muttered :

" Egad, my friend, there is a deal of words ! "

" They are the change for your money."

" So we are quits ? "

" Not at all. The account must be verified, and
that is a transaction which cannot be finished here."

" As you please. It will be light to-morrow," he
replied, much less jauntily. " To-morrow, on the
meadows! "

" Faugh ! " replied I, becoming insolent in turn,
" poor creatures of my stamp do not wait till the
next day. The moon is full to-night. We will see
to it at once . . . behind les Innocents."

" Agreed."
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 135

The two women were thorough and frank
coquettes, and their pride was secretly flattered by
the turn the dispute was taking, for it was in some
degree brought about by them ; but they thought
it correct to give way to slight signs of fright, in
which, with a little goodwill, we might discern their
feelings of solicitude. They even made a show of
detaining us, and one of them inhaled her salts
violently, as if she had been upon the point of
fainting. As that kind of swoon is not dangerous,
neither of us paid attention to it ; but we asked M.
de Guise, who was in the next box, to be escort
to the two sympathetic ladies, whose minds were
very little troubled about our fate in reality, as I
fancy, and we left the theatre without more words.

The thing was to be done quickly, so we took as
seconds the two first gentlemen we met. Ponce-
ville caught sight of the Chevalier de Miraumont,
who was taking the air in the street, went up to
him without more ado, and told him in a couple of
words what service he sought of him. Miraumont
made no difficulties ; only he asked us to wait a
minute or two, as he was waiting for the Marquis
de Nesle, who had left him for a moment.

" It could not be better," I said to Miraumont.
" You will be for Ponceville, and the Marquis will
not decline to act for me."

M. de Nesle soon made his appearance, and we
all four moved off in the direction of the Innocents.
 
 

136 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

I talked with my second the whole way. As for
my opponent, he said never a word, and I plainly
saw that Miraumont, whose reputation as a man of
courage had been long established, and who knew his
man as well, would have been glad to make him
chatter a little. No man likes to feel ashamed of
those he backs, and, in truth, Ponceville had the
air of a calf being led to the slaughter.

There was the finest moonlight when we reached
the end of our walk, and it was no exaggeration to
say that it was as bright as day. It was arranged
the fight should be on the ground abutting on the
cemetery, and, waiving any further preparation, I
drew. Ponceville did the same, and our two seconds,
in accordance with usage, took their places at some
distance from us, with drawn blades, and then we
crossed swords. . . .

If this duel had been like others, I should as-
suredly not have taken the trouble to give the details
here ; but it afforded so droll a sight, that I cannot
resist the wish to give my readers an idea of it. It
is quite true that Ponceville fought in the strict sense
of the word. I must even add that he did not hold
his sword so badly, and made some passes now and
then which lacked neither elegance nor vigour. But
he continually gave ground, so that at the end of
five minutes we had traversed, principals and seconds
alike, a distance of ten toises.

We might have gone a long way at this rate, and
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 137

I for my part saw no reason why an end should come.
However, out of curiosity, and for the novelty of the
thing, I let him take his course, and continued to
press him.

Up to this time he had given way in the open,
but by dint of covering space he reached the charnel-
house of the Innocents at last, which was enclosed
here and there by wretched rubble walls and quick-
set hedges. Ponceville, without even seeming to
perceive what he did, retreated upon one of these
latter, and there he was with one foot upon the public
way and the other within the burying-ground.

Hereupon I myself gave ground by a full pace,
and lowered my weapon in spite of myself :

" Deuce on it, Monsieur le Chevalier, is it not
enough to call me a poor creature ? Do you take me
now for a sexton, and do you think I am inclined to
bury you myself ? "

This sally took the place of a lunge ; a man does
not fight when he is laughing, and in spite of the
gravity of their functions, our seconds could not keep
their countenance. Miraumont had no more inclina-
tion to travel round the world under the poor pretext
of seeing us fence than had M. de Nesle ; so he was
first in urging Ponceville to make excuses to me.
That was just what Ponceville wished, but he pre-
tended to hesitate.

" You have gone so far already," added Mirau-
mont, " that one step further will not cost you
much."
 
 

138 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" The more so," added De Nesle in an undertone,
" that it will be his first advance."

The matter was certainly turning to a jest ; so we
were reconciled and prepared to return to the town.
For my part, I was not sorry to be rid of my worthy
friends, for I had such a night in view as made me
giddy and dazzled with the mere prospect of it ...

But enough ! For the time the fair Madame de
Lesdiguieres has made another man of me, and in
spite of myself I feel compelled to discretion and
reserve. Besides, I am jealous of that bygone happi-
ness, and just as then I would have defended it against
a thousand rivals together, so now I am resolved to
keep the memory of it for myself alone.

How great a pity that circumstances, whereof the
reader will be apprised later, prevented that happiness
from lasting more than eighteen months !

I shall take advantage of the fact that I have
spoken of M. de Ponceville to insert here a story
about one of his relatives, Madame Diane de Pre-
verenge, who was the victim of a very strange mis-
adventure in Dauphine. When she was very young,
she had been married to a very grave man far too
grave for her who passed the greater part of his
days in hunting, because he disliked talking, and the
greater part of his nights in researches into genealogy,
which, however, never saw the light.

Matters went passably well for the first two or
three years. But the young lady, who had a quick
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 139

perception and a lively wit, and was not allowed
to go to Grenoble as often as she desired, grew weary
at length of the recital of her husband's great prowess
afield, and of the tedious repetitions with which he
vexed her when he thought he had made some dis-
covery such as would interest his neighbours. Re-
member, too, that he often let weeks go by without
speaking a word to her ; and this may give you an
idea of his negligence as a husband. He had made
up his mind to put the entire genealogy of the families
of the Dauphine on a new footing, and it will be
understood that this tremendous piece of work made
him surly and intolerable at times. Love and learn-
ing, it is notorious, have never been good comrades.
The noble gentleman had already completed half his
labours, and was losing his appetite over his work,
when an event, which he would gladly have dispensed
with, threw his ideas into confusion and upset the
peaceful monotony of his life, hitherto continually
occupied in the same round and bounded by the
same outlook. Happily, his heart was like steel, and
his head like brass, so that he could have endured
even doughtier blows than that which he received.
Here is the matter in brief:

One evening, after he had bagged some small
game and was returning to his chateau, situated on
the heights of Domene, in sight of the splendid vale
of Graisivaudan, the Baron de Preverenge saw one
of his house-servants coming towards him ; this was
 
 

140 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

a kind of majordomo whom he had always disliked, and
had several times threatened to deliver to the authori-
ties for breaches of trust, and especially on the occa-
sion of a crime that had been committed in that
part some time before. The majordomo had even
been arrested at first, and then released for want
of evidence against him.

Pierre Gibaut (as this man was called) took off
his hat respectfully when he beheld his lord and
master, but at the same time he stopped short in
front of him, as if he purposed to bar the way.

" What are you doing here," asked M. de Pre-
verenge, coming to a standstill, " and who gave you
leave to quit the house in my absence ? "

" Nobody. . . . Monsieur le Baron, nobody."

" And how is it you dare to avow as much to
my face ? "

" I think I may hope, Monsieur le Baron, that
you will excuse me."

" You have something to tell me ? "

" Oh, assuredly, Monsieur le Baron, something
very urgent."

" Well, speak."

" Not here, Monsieur le Baron, we are too near
to the house, and they say that in this country
the trees have tongues just as much as the walls
have ears. So, if it be convenient to you, we will
move a little further off."

Preverenge was not a man to feel fear, but Pierre
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 14!

Gibaut's mysterious manner impressed his mind, and
he turned back almost against his will to re-enter
the mountain gorge whence he had emerged. The
place where they then were was one of the wildest
in the countryside. Two walls of rock, hewn in the
hillside, rose to right and left to a great height, so
that an artificial darkness resulted, as if night had
really fallen ; but this was not so, for the light of
a fine sunset was still illumining the snows of the
summits above them. Each moment the Baron made
signs of halting, but Pierre Gibaut, who seemed to
fear being spied upon or overheard, very keenly
beckoned his master on, and begged him to proceed
a little further.

At last our two personages reached a kind of
natural bridge which had no doubt been cast during
some convulsion of the earth across a torrent, the
waters of which fell from a vast height and foamed
noisily, passing innumerable obstacles in the course
of a thousand windings, and were lost to sight at
length in depths that the eye could scarcely explore.

" Will Monsieur le Baron be pleased to stop here ? "
asked Pierre Gibaut in a tone that clearly showed
he had found the place he was seeking.

" Maitre Pierre is very kind to be contented,"
replied Preverenge, with ironical deference. " I
almost thought we should go up to the glacier."

" Nay, but hear me, Monsieur le Baron ; what
I have done is more for you than for me, since, by
 
 

142 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

your leave, it is your dinner and not mine that is
getting burned."

" Pierre Gibaut," answered the Baron with
vexation, " you will be good enough to leave parables
upon one side, for I neither relish nor understand
them. Be brief, if you can."

" Why, yes, Monsieur le Baron, yes. I will
begin, if you please, by putting a little question to
you. Do you ever remember that you are married? "

" You are insolent," said the Baron, raising his
arm.

"Nay, never be angry ; it is not my purpose
to give you offence . . . but it might really be said
sometimes that you forget ; do you see ? "

" How so ? "

" Judge for yourself. In the morning, as soon
as you are out of bed, you make a visit of ceremony
to Madame ... a matter of five minutes, no more nor
less. You wish her good-day and she wishes you
good-day all very well. Great folk call that being
married, and 'tis their concern. . . . Then comes
breakfast. Nothing much is said, that's easy to
understand ; we must eat to live. But others in
your place, with a belly full, would think of a little
love-making. But you, Monsieur le Baron, have
the saddle put on your big black horse, unless you
are going after the small game, as you have done
to-day. After that, you take your firearms, your
bag and your hunting-knife, and away you go. . . .
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 143

There you are, out of the house. Observe that 'tis
every day the same, In truth, it could scarce be
different if Madame did not exist."

" Has Maitre Pierre changed from an untrust-
worthy servant to a father confessor ? And has
he invited me to hear a discourse, a lecture, or a
sermon ? "

" It is a history, Monsieur le Baron, and a true
one, as I will vouch. But to return to what I was
saying. There you are, in the middle of the forest,
sometimes surrounded by a double pack of hounds
and a body of huntsmen, and sometimes alone, as
to-day. The day passes and the evening comes on,
and then it is dinner-time. You come back perhaps,
perhaps not, it depends upon the sport you have had.
If you are pleased, you come to table . . . and you
eat with the appetite of four, they say . . . but if
not, you do not appear. You send to say that you
are unwell. . . . Let others believe that ; I am not
gulled by it. ... 'Tis anger and mortification that
have deadened your hunger. All hunters are like
that."

" Upon my honour," said Preverenge, leaning
upon the oak paling which abutted upon the abyss,
" I was altogether wrong to show anger just now.
Do you know, Maitre Pierre, that you are beginning
to amuse me admirably ? Proceed, proceed . . . you
have made a good commencement."

" I shall make a yet better ending," replied Pierre
 
 

144 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

Gibaut with a sly laugh, which, however, he tried to
conceal from the Baron's notice. "Where was I?
Ah ! I know. ... So Madame is often obliged to
dine alone, as if she were an old maid, or a recluse,
or a widow. By Saint Peter ! who is my patron
saint, let me tell you, Monsieur le Baron, that this
is not a very fine life for a chatelaine, and Madame
la Baronne might soon take exception to it. ..."

" So," said Preverenge in a low tone, while he bit
his lips in a fury that he coldly restrained, "it seems
you concern yourself with my married life."

" Certainly I do," replied Pierre Gibaut with an
air of candour, " and it seems to me that Monsieur le
Baron can scarcely find fault with me for that, because
I have come to tell him a thing about his married
life that he little suspects."

"How? What thing? Will you say what you
mean ? "

" Be not angered, Monsieur le Baron, in Heaven's
name be not angered, for presently you will need an
angel's patience and a martyr's resignation. You
know the Chevalier de Puy-Robert well ? "

" Yes."

" A handsome young man who dwells a league
from here ? "

" Of course."

" And you greet him every time you meet him on
the road? "

"Yes . . . do you not hear ? . . . What follows ?"
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 145

" Well, Monsieur le Baron, Pierre Gibaut has
a word of advice to give you ; when you meet the
handsome Chevalier de Puy-Robert on the road, do
not greet him."

*' And . . . why not . . . Maitre Pierre ? "

" Why ? . . . Because when he sees you he passes
by the gate of the Chateau de Preverenge without
stopping, but when he knows you are away . . ."

" He goes in perhaps ? "

" "Tis as you say."

While Pierre had been speaking the Baron had
incessantly observed him with a deep scrutiny. He
seemed to be guessing the secret of this confused
revelation little by little. But at the last word he
drew himself up to his full height, and seemed about
to give vent to a cry. However, he repressed that
display of feeling ; for it would have been imprudent
from his point of view, and resumed with a fine show
of apparent calm :

" And if he comes in, what does that prove ? "

" Oh, certainly it proves nothing . . . especially
if you suppose he stops at the courtyard . . . Un-
fortunately the entrance-hall is not far off, and he
hurries into it ... the staircase tempts him and he
ascends it. . . . Chance will have it almost always that
Madame la Baronne's door is half-open ... he glides
in, the windows are shut, and then . . ."

" Silence, wretch ! I bid you be silent," cried
Preverenge, now beside himself. " But no, I bid you

VOL. Ill 10
 
 

146 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

own to me that you have lied . . . even if the Baronne
de Preverenge had fallen to this depth of shame, she
would have self-respect enough not to make an exhi-
bition of herself to her waiting-women and her
lackeys. . . ."

" You are right, and there is no living soul who is
in the secret of what I have just told you . . . Madame
la Baronne compromising herself under the eyes of the
household ! Never. . . . She never receives his visits
but after midnight, and not a soul in your house, not
even yourself, has ever suspected it."

" I marvel at your perspicacity, Maitre Pierre,
for how comes it that you have seen what nobody has
seen ? "

" Oh, 'tis very different in my case," replied Pierre
Gibaut, trying to decipher from the Baron's face what
effect his words would produce ; " I have been watch-
ing Madame la Baronne for three months . . ."

" Worthy of an honest servant," said Preverenge,
whose features displayed a concentrated passion; "but
are you quite sure that you are not mistaken ? "

"Mistaken! Oh, impossible, Monsieur le Baron . . ."

" But still . . ."

" It was I who used to open the gate to Monsieur
le Chevalier de Puy-Robert."

If at that moment an observer could have studied
the diverse emotions that Preverenge's face betrayed,
he would have been at once astonished and alarmed
at the violence of the inward conflict which they
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 147

revealed. But Pierre Gibaut remained impassive,
and did not even seem to understand the import of
what he said. Doubtless the Baron, who knew the
character of his servant, mistrusted this marvellous
composure, for he once more restrained the impulses
of his fury, and resumed, in an agitated voice :

" It is time, Maitre Pierre, that you explain your-
self more plainly. I do not think you mean to dare
me to my face you know that is a game wherein I
should have the advantage of you so I must suppose
you have some good reason such as will justify you."

" Oh, but one reason, Monsieur le Baron; I wished
to be very sure of my facts, and to prevent anyone
else from sharing such an important secret with me.
... I succeeded, and I alone know of your wife's
amour, my good seigneur . . ."

" And like a devoted servant," said Preverenge,
with admirably sustained self-possession, " you have
come to deliver the secret to me, that I may take
advantage of it, I suppose ? "

" No, indeed ... I have come to sell it to you,
because I reckon you will give me a good price
for it."

The Baron's face suddenly underwent a change.
Why ? Man's feeble intelligence would seek in vain
to penetrate these singular mysteries. However, from
this moment Preverenge seemed to have made up his
mind, and to have resolved to listen calmly to the
strange sallies of his servant. With close attention,

10 2
 
 

148 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

his hearer might even have discerned a smile lurking
about his lips. His answer was in accord with the
fresh attitude which he had just adopted.

" I have always regarded you, in spite of your
peccadilloes, as a valuable servant and a clever man.
You have proved to me, Maitre Pierre, that my eyes
can see. Come, tell me your conditions. The service
that you have just rendered me is great, it is very
great ; there is nothing I would not do to recompense
you worthily."

" My conditions," replied Pierre Gibaut, with a
careless air, " are no more than two ; not excessive,
eh ? You remember, I think, that six months ago
they found a murdered man in the Preverenge valley ?
It was said he was a wealthy traveller, who had been
robbed, and they insulted me by arresting me, Pierre
Gibaut, a good Catholic who might have extreme
unction, I swear it, without confessing to the priest.
You took some part in that, Monsieur le Baron ; for
you were summoned to the assize at Grenoble to give
information about your servant, and you showed him
no too great kindness, and it is not your fault if he
escaped hanging ; for you told the judge who had
charge of the business that I had lately bought a little
freehold in the Vale d'Allevard, and may I perish,
said you, if I know with what money he paid for it.
They let me go, from lack of evidence ; but thanks to
you, I might have lost my life over it. Say what you
will, your evidence has always gone strongly against
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 149

me. Here, Monsieur le Baron, is a retractation of
your evidence in due form, you have only got to sign
it."

" Egad," said the Baron, " here is a pretty trifle.
You should understand, my dear Pierre, that I think
no more of such a retractation than of a feather. I
will give you a hundred of them, if you like. I said
then what I thought to be the truth, but the law de-
cided that you were as white as snow. I certainly
will not refuse you this declaration you ask of me ;
but 'tis in reality too slight a matter. Let rne hear
the second condition."

" Oh, that is simpler still. My little property at
Allevard is all in pieces, and Maillard the mason, who
has seen it, says it will take ten thousand livres to put
it in repair."

" Your mason is a thief . . . but no matter. Ten
thousand livres ! why, what is that compared with
what you have done for me ? You shall have the ten
thousand livres, Pierre. But have you thought of
the shortest possible way of getting your money ? "

" I should be a great fool if I had forgotten that ;
but you may be easy, Monsieur le Baron, I have a
level head. Here is a little deed duly drawn up
which I hope to present to-morrow to your steward
at Saint-Martin ; he always has ready money. See,
you have only to sign here."

Pr6verenge signed the paper slowly and resumed,
while he affected to scan the two documents :
 
 

SECRET MEMOIRS OF
 
 

" Is this all you wish, Pierre ? "

"Why, Monsieur le Baron. '. . ."

" Oh, do not be afraid, I shall not think this
enough, and I shall value your discretion as I ought.
But to come back to the chief business ; I want you,
while we are returning to the chateau, to give me
some further details."

" Willingly," said Maitre Pierre, pocketing the
two documents, which in his eyes represented untold
treasure.

It was a bad road. Preverenge, absorbed in
meditations which the majordomo thought he under-
stood, walked with so uncertain and irregular a gait
that the servant found himself, as if by chance, in
front of his master. The Baron addressed a ques-
tion to him now and then, and Pierre Gibaut replied
to him with perfect composure. In this way they
came to a very narrow path at so steep a slope as
made it necessary for both to take unusual precaution.
The Baron, who was in the questioning mood, re-
sumed as if he had been following up a settled idea :

" So you say, Pierre, that no one at the chateau
has noticed the Chevalier's attentions ?"

" Not a soul, Monsieur le Baron."

" And have not you in a moment of forgetfulness,
or when your tongue was itching and I should be
the first to overlook the fault have you not told
some neighbour first your suspicions and then your
certainty ? "
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 151

" A fool might have done that in my place . . .
but I come from a country where they don't ex-
change pearls for fish-shells. Such a secret, Mon-
sieur le Baron, is a kind of fortune ; it is not to
be shared."

" So," said the Baron, his voice shaking in spite
of his efforts to speak calmly," " you are the only
man in the world who knows of the Baroness de
Preverenge's shame and of her husband's dishonour ? "

" The only man," said Pierre with composure.

" And I can rely upon your discretion, eh, my
worthy Pierre ? "

" Oh, you are a suspicious man," said the major-
domo ; "I almost guessed that that would be the
last of your questions."

" And you guessed right," cried Preverenge in
a stentorian voice ; " it is the last ! "

As he uttered the words, the Baron seized Pierre
by the nape of the neck, and bending him back in the
vigorous grasp of his ringers, which held him like
a collar of iron, he swung him round twice or thrice
in such wise as to stop his breath, and then hurled
him far into the abyss, so that after striking against
the edges of the rocks he was engulfed in the seething
waters of the torrent. The fall of the body was
inaudible ; for the perpetual noise of the watercourse
deadened the brief sound, just as a clap of thunder
covers the roaring of a storm.

Preverenge's feelings after the deed were not such
 
 

152 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

as might be supposed. His need of a cruel, instant,
and terrible revenge, combined with the necessity
of ridding himself of the sole witness of his dishonour,
made him disregard the almost futile crime he had
just committed. Besides, he was so habituated to
the chase, and that is as much as to say so accus-
tomed to slaying, that he had lost much of his
sensibility about death. He excelled in the noble
woodland sport. The bear and the chamois were
his constant adversaries, and the skill with which
he levelled at the one could only be compared to the
quiet energy he showed in cutting up the other. He
had been known to tackle the wild boar at close
quarters, and the hunger-maddened wolf. A wild
beast's loud cries of menace left him as unmoved
as did the pitiful outcry of the deer at bay. So
he merely looked on the killing of Pierre Gibaut
as a kind of feat . . . and considered that for the
first time in his life he had tried his hand at man-
hunting.

So he went on his way again, hastening his pace.
Pierre Gibaut was far from his thoughts, which were
busied about the Baroness de Preverenge and the
Chevalier de Puy- Robert.

" If I could find them together," he whispered
to himself, " it would save me the trouble of thinking.
I should kill them."

Preverenge gratified his fancy for a long time
with this notion. He pictured to himself his wife
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 153

begging for mercy, while he coldly bade her address
herself to Heaven. And he imagined the Chevalier
trying to sell his life dearly, but dying at last in
fearful agony. The picture lived and moved before
the Baron's gleaming eyes. He smiled at it.

However, he did not return immediately. He
walked around the Chateau de Preverenge for awhile,
hoping that he might see M. de Puy-Robert enter
there, or learn, from some casual indication, that
he was already with the Baroness. But nothing
happened to relieve his impatience, and he had the
trouble of his espial for his pains. Then he made his
way to his wife's apartments, and in such a frame
of mind as would fit him to be at once accuser,
judge, and executioner. Strangest of circumstances!
The doors were nearly all open, and those that were
closed, here and there, had the keys standing in the
locks. These visible tokens of confidence or of crass
imprudence upset all the Baron's expectations. He
entered the tabernacle of the domestic gods, or, in
simpler words, the bedroom, stealthily, and he was
yet more astonished. The Baroness, stretched upon
a bed as white as snow, lay in an easy attitude, and
slept the innocent, pure, and quiet sleep which is
the prerogative, they say, of the righteous man, the
virgin, and the aged. Thus beheld, she was very
charming. He gazed at her for a moment in silence,
and then withdrew.

As he crossed the courtyard to reach the wing
 
 

154 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

in which he dwelt, he met several of his servants,
who, having failed to see him enter, were full of
excuses that they had not attended upon him.

"That matters not," said Preverenge carelessly,
" and I am not displeased with you about it. But
tell Pierre Gibaut to come and speak with me."

" Pierre Gibaut went out after dinner," answered
one of the lackeys, " and we have not seen him since."

" Ah ! I know how it is," replied the Baron, with
the gesture of one who remembers something. " I
learned for certain to-day that the poor fellow had
nothing to do with the miserable affair last year in
the Valley de Preverenge, and I signed a declaration
for him in good form retracting the evidence I gave
against him at the time. And further, I gave him,
by way of indemnity, a good ten thousand livres,
which one of my stewards was to pay him. No
doubt he was impatient, and would not wait till
to-morrow, so as to go before the law authorities
at Grenoble first and draw his money afterwards.
Our good Pierre Gibaut was always in a hurry. ... I
hope no misfortune will befall him by the way. . . .
I should be really sorry."

When he had delivered this funeral speech, Pre-
verenge shut himself in his own apartments, and
began to meditate what he should do. The night
brought counsel. He was sorry that he had acted too
sharply with Pierre, and was glad that he had not
been obliged to execute upon his wife the vengeance
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 155

which for awhile he had so eagerly promised himself.
He had never imagined that he could have been
dragged down to the ridiculous position of a befooled
husband, and a very natural effect of his surprise
was the movement of anger to which the majordomo
had fallen victim. But if the information proved true,
he rightly felt that in these sorts of cases there is
something as bad as the very misfortune itself, namely,
the grievous publicity which is given to it. This was
plainly the best course his thoughts could take, and
it is due to him to say that he persisted in it. It
will be seen how these prudent and cool resolves
worked out in a few days.

A week elapsed, and Preverenge acquired com-
plete proof that Pierre Gibaut had not lied to him.
Every other day, after midnight, a slight shadow
might have been seen climbing the wall (the major-
domo was no longer there to open the gate), and
stealthily seeking the staircase that led to the
Baroness's apartments. Thrice was the manoeuvre
renewed under Preverenge's eyes, and twice Pre-
verenge contented himself with dropping the curtain
before the window of his room and walking up and
down in the courtyard, as if he had sought to spare
his wife's lover all anxiety. It will be seen that his
conduct showed delicacy, and that his fierce intentions
were greatly altered.

But a great project was being thought out in his
mind, and the fourth visit of Puy- Robert was fixed
as the occasion for putting it in execution.
 
 

I5& SECRET MEMOIRS OF

It was midnight, and the Chevalier, supposing
the Baron deep in the dusty atmosphere of his
heraldic researches, had made his way lightly and
boldly to Madame de Preverenge's side, and hoped
now as always for his hour of bliss. Both were full
of confidence in that star which protects lovers, and
already they were rejoicing in the good fortune which
till now had preserved their union from all ruffling
breezes, when an unusual sound, first heard in the
court and then within the building, disturbed their
happy security, and raised the first cloud on the
horizon of their loves. They looked at each other
and turned pale, and in their mutual glance flashed a
terrible presentiment laden with despair and terror. . . .
The Baroness, prompted by one of those instinctive
warnings that great catastrophes give birth to, sought
to fly to the adjoining room ; Puy-Robert's hand
sought his left side, forgetting that he had hung his
sword in the window of the room by which he en-
tered. But Preverenge left no time to his wife to
flee nor to her lover to prepare his defence. He
appeared on the threshold and advanced no further.

Madame de Preverenge stifled a scream and hid
her face in her hands ; the Chevalier, whiter than a
winding-sheet, staggered to the mantelpiece trembling,
and leaned against it for support.

" Well, what is the matter ? " asked the Baron,
whose features evinced a scarce credible composure.
" Does my presence annoy you, Madame ? Am I un-
welcome, Chevalier ? "
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 157

These questions were left unanswered. The lover
neither recoiled nor advanced, and no sound issued
from his lips ; a pitiful groan escaped the Baroness.
M. de Preverenge resumed in the same tones :

" Why, in sober truth, I do not understand
you. . . . Either you are afraid of me, or I am very
unwelcome to you, for neither dares look me in the
face, and your reception of me resembles a dismissal
in due form so strongly that I might well be mistaken
over it. Come, am I one too many ? Must I go ?
or shall I stay ? "

" Sir," stammered the Baroness, " this hateful
jesting ..."

" Jesting ! Why, who jests here ? Not I, cer-
tainly. ... I learned that Monsieur le Chevalier
de Puy-Robert had come to keep you company, and
I thought I had some right to make a third in the
advantages of that rare favour ; but I have no in-
tention to sadden you ... on the contrary, I have
had an excellent supper prepared, and if you will
allow me, we will all three share heartily in it. . . ."

" You make me shudder, sir," murmured the
Baroness in a scarce audible voice.

" There is no occasion," said Pr6verenge lightly,
" and the supper will set all right."

At a signal agreed upon, a splendidly-prepared
table was brought in ... places were laid for three.

" Here is your place," said Preverenge to the
Chevalier de Puy-Robert. " Here is yours, my dear
Diane. Allow me to take my seat between you."
 
 

158 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

The Chevalier, who up to the present had re-
mained sunk in a kind of feverish stupor, shook off
the torpor to which he had yielded, and cried in a
voice that rang with repressed indignation :

" Enough, Monsieur le Baron, enough. . . . This
comedy has gone too far. It may be that you have
the right to kill your wife (that is a matter between
God and you), but cease to torment her, for I will
not see her thus tortured in my presence. Just now,
impelled by a proper sentiment of penitence and
shame, I regretted the wrong I have done you,
and I was about to beg your pardon for it. . . . You
relieve me of the humiliation, and make us once more
equal by insulting me yourself. I thank you. I will
render account of my misdeed at the same time that
you render account of yours ! "

The Baroness, standing with dishevelled hair, was
gazing first at the sternly cold face of Preverenge,
and then at the angry countenance of the Chevalier.

" What are you saying about insult and shame
and repentance ? " resumed the Baron with an ad-
mirably assumed air of surprise. " By your leave,
Chevalier, I see no one here who is criminal or
dishonoured. What harm is there in all this ? You
have come from time to time to pay your court to the
chatelaine de Preverenge, and the busy tongues will
have it that you are not always ill-received. Well,
egad ! Preverenge may be a bear, but he has done
the like often enough in his youth, and knows well
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 159

what it is to make a raid on the lands of others.
There is no keen sportsman who is not, now and
then and on occasion, a poacher. . . . What you
have done, Chevalier, is fair fighting, and you have
my congratulations."

" Monsieur le Baron," resumed Puy- Robert, whose
anger grew ever the higher, " you are in your own
house, and on this ground you abuse the right
you have against a man who has so grievously
wronged you ; but, once again, let us close the quarrel
on the right field. If you seek blood, I am at your
orders. Only, as you have lost your self-respect,
let me recall you to the sense of it, and if not on
my account, who can do no more here than offer
a reason, then on account of this house, which is that
of your ancestors, and on account of this lady, who,
guilty as she may be, nevertheless bears your name,
act rightly."

" Ah ! " cried Preverenge, with a perfectly agree-
able laugh, " I begin to understand your words a
toise long and your infinite scruples, my dear neigh-
bour. Heaven be praised, 'tis clear now. But be
reassured. The mischief is not so irreparable as
you think, and all can be set right."

" What do you mean ? " said the Chevalier de
Puy-Robert.

" Poor Diane," resumed the Baron, without
answering Puy-Robert directly ; " 'tis a weakness
I could never cure her of. Oh ! we may do as we
 
 

l6o SECRET MEMOIRS OF

please, but she will never change her tune . . . she
will have it she is my wife, and gives out to all who
will listen to it that we are married."

" And you are not ! " cried Puy-Robert, gazing
wildly at the Baroness, who made no more sign
of moving than if she had been dead.

" No, indeed, thank God, Chevalier ! My dear
Diane has her liberty as I have mine, and our loves
are birds of passage that can fly to right and left
at the first threat of rain or the first ray of sun-
shine."

The Baroness opened her mouth as if to answer,
but a sudden choking seemed to prevent her.

" I know, my fair Diane," resumed the Baron,
" I know all you would say to me. I promised to
be discreet, eh ? And, zounds ! I have not forgotten ;
but we must keep a fair account, if we can. Did not
you promise me something else ? and have you kept
your word ? If you had been faithful, I should have
kept silence."

And to cut all further explanations short, Pre-
verenge took his place at table, poured wine for
the Chevalier, took a big draught of the same wine
himself, no doubt to dispel a fear which would appear
very natural in such a case, and made an appearance
of supping heartily. The Chevalier, as may be
imagined, merely touched his glass with the tips of
his lips, and the Baroness looked on the scene with
the dull and troubled eyes which the prisoner turns
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE l6l

upon the preparations for his execution. When
Preverenge thought that the scene had lasted long
enough, he rose and said :

" Chevalier, since the lady prefers you to me,
I make no difficulty about her going with you. But
I own to you that I am still captivated by her beauty,
and I should regard a last night passed by her side as
a favour of inestimable price. Be generous enough to
yield me your place . . . you owe me the courtesy.
As for you, Madame, you are not in a position to
accord me the favour by good will, so I will buy
it of you. This purse contains a hundred ducats
in gold. ... Is it enough ... for one night ? "

The Baroness de Preverenge cowered down and
nearly fell to the floor. The gold was scattered on
the bed-clothes. The Chevalier took a step forward
to come to her aid, but the Baron, barring the way,
grasped his arm tightly and led him to the door,
saying :

" You have heard me, Monsieur le Chevalier, and
I hope I have made the position exactly clear to
you. If you have managed to convince our dear
Diane of the reality of your affections, nothing will
prevent her coming to you to-morrow at your house.
I will offer to open the door for her, and it will rest
solely with her if she quits the rustical Baron for
the gay and elegant Chevalier. If you do not see
her again, the reason will be that she despises you as
heartily as, from this day forth, I shall despise her."

VOL. Ill II
 
 

162 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

The Chevalier de Puy-Robert had no time to
answer these last words, which were the only ex-
pressions of bitterness that had fallen from the
Baron's lips, for at the same instant Preverenge
threw wide the double door which led to the ante-
chamber, and a double row of lackeys formed in order
first to make way for, and then to escort with high
honours, the guest of the Baron de Preverenge.

" Farewell, my dear neighbour," resumed the
latter, loud enough to be heard by all his retinue.
" Farewell ! "

This being done, the Baron de Preverenge re-
gained his wife's room slowly, double-locked the
doors, and then threw wide one of the windows as if
to breathe the air. There were heavy drops of sweat
upon his forehead, and he wiped his face two or three
times with his handkerchief; then he took his place
in front of the hapless Diane, and looked her in the
face without uttering a word.

Trembling and abashed under this gaze, which
scrutinised the deepest recesses of her soul, the
Baroness found strength to murmur, as she dragged
herself to the feet of the man who seemed desirous to
kill her :

" Monsieur, just now you threw mud at me . . .
is it not enough ? What do you seek now ? Is it
my life ? Take it ... slay me . . . but do not
prolong my agony further ! "

Preverenge drew some papers from his pocket and
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 163

perused their various headings. Then, after exam-
ining them all with unmoved tranquillity, he replied
to the Baroness : .

" What a hurry you are in to die, Madame ! But
we must talk business first ... all in due order, if
you please ! "
 
 

1 12
 
 

164 SECRET MEMOIRS OF
 
 

CHAPTER XXXIV

Continuation and close of the history of the Baroness de Pre-
verenge Disquieting duration of my amour with Madame
de Lesdiguieres The poet N***'s little adventure with
Ninon de Lenclos The persistent rhymester Contest of
gallantry How Ninon received a quatrain by N * * *
Whereby it is shown that a poet is not easily discouraged
A fresh quatrain Boldness rewarded My visit to the con-
vent of the Ursulines at Lectoure An unexpected meeting
An old quarrel A reconciliation Mademoiselle Valerie de
Rocheplate Intrigues to fathom Certain honest means of
keeping a young lady out of her heritage.

THE Baroness's breath came thick and short.
Preverenge's eyes flashed, and the menace of death
seem mingled with grim raillery in his glance.

She resumed, trying to receive with a show of
courage the death-blow which it seemed she could no
longer escape :

" Whatever you do, sir, and whatever you may
have to say to me, I know my fate. You mean to
kill me ! "

" I ? Kill you ? " replied Preverenge in a mocking
tone. " You cannot really think it, Madame ; I have
done all in my power to escape from ridicule, and
that would destroy the results of my efforts in a
single minute. Kill you ! Upon my soul, that would
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 165

be a rare way of adjusting my business. No, no, if
you please, Madame, I shall not kill you, for if I did
so, it might still be supposed I was amorous of you,
and that is a belief I will let no one entertain ; if I
killed you, people would think of you as a victim,
and I mean that no one shall pity you ; if I killed you
the Chevalier would think that you are my wife . . . ! "

"Well, sir?"

" Well, you are so no longer."

While he spoke thus, Preverenge drew from his
breast a parchment roll, which he unfolded before the
Baroness's eyes. She perused it rapidly, and then
fell back upon the bed trembling, livid, and with
dishevelled locks.

" It is the first time in my life that I have had
business with the Pope," continued Preverenge in
the same tone, " and I must do His Holiness the
justice of avowing that he has shown every goodwill
to serve me. The Abbe Driencourt, my confessor
. . . and yours also, I believe, took charge of the
negotiations. A fortnight sufficed him to go to Rome,
smooth away the difficulties of every kind that stood
in the way of my wishes, and bring back this precious
deed of nullity. The Abbe Driencourt is a very
clever man. . . ."

" He has ruined me," murmured Madame de
Preverenge.

" He has saved your life, for but for him both
you and your lover would be dead by now."
 
 

l66 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

The Baroness bowed her head and was silent.
Then commenced a strange dumb-show. While the
unhappy woman seemed sunk in her despair, the
Baron brought her a travelling-dress with a head-
dress and mantle to suit it. Unconsciously, so to
speak, she donned them in silence, and awaited the
orders of the man who was her master and yet no
more than a stranger to her now, inexorably en-
trenched in his sovereign and absolute authority as
a high and mighty seigneur. When she was ready to
go, he offered her his arm and led her to the court-
yard. There a carriage was awaiting her, surrounded
by grooms with lighted torches in their hands, while
the horses were pawing the ground in their impa-
tience.

" I am not going to play the traitor with you,"
resumed Preverenge in a low tone. " I shall persuade
this whole countryside of the truth of what I told
the Chevalier de Puy-Robert. To-morrow everyone
will learn that you were only my mistress. I Jhave
taken sure and unfailing means to that end. You
may declare the contrary, if you like ; I am not
concerned about it ; you will not be believed. And
now I give you your choice between two places of
retirement : my castle of Valneige, in Queyras,
whence you can go to join your lover, and the convent
of Notre Dame d'Embrun, where you will be at
leisure to meditate upon your errors and dedicate
your thoughts to God. From here the road to either
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 167

destination is almost the same . . . some fifteen hours
at a good pace. . . . We shall be there about midday.
Come, varlets," cried he to the outriders, " open the
doors and aid Madame into the coach."

He was obeyed, and the Baroness seemed to act
mechanically without even appearing aware of what
he was making her do.

Preverenge took his seat beside her, and, after
preserving silence for a moment, asked her in the
tone of a man who thinks he has allowed time
enough for reflection :

" Whither do we go ? "

" To the convent."

On the following day Preverenge returned to the
chateau, and resumed the accustomed courses of his
life. Three days later he confided his version of
the secret of his quarrel with Madame Diane to his
butler, whom he knew for the most garrulous and
indiscreet of all his servants. In twenty-four hours
the news spread throughout the countryside, and was
the theme for every kind of comment. Preverenge
resumed his hunting and his researches as if he were
the calmest and easiest-minded man in the two hemi-
spheres. As his conduct appeared very honourable,
when all was said and done, and as he was very rich,
while compassion should be shown to every sin, the
chief gentlemen of the neighbourhood gradually made
advances to him, and threw the doors of their houses
wide open to him when he thought well to visit them.
 
 

l68 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

Preverenge soon saw the meaning of these welcomes.
Most of these gentlemen had daughters, and most of
the daughters were remarkable either for great beauty
or handsome dowries. They say that men are not
cured by experience. The maxim was justified
in the Baron de Preverenge's case, for two
months after the events which we have just related,
he became enamoured of the daughter of Comte
E * **de la Tour-du-Pin, asked her hand in marriage,
obtained his request, and married her with great pomp
before the eyes of the world, in the choir of the church
of Saint-Andrew at Grenoble. History does not record
whether he related to his second wife the epic wherein
his first wife had figured as the heroine, or if he ever
felt inclined in fireside chat to recount the tale of his
meeting with Pierre Gibaut. . . .

We may well doubt it.

But let us quit these sombre themes, and return to
Paris, where we shall find the young king's court, the
graces of the fairest duchesses, and the wit of the most
distinguished and most elegant courtiers.

To speak of myself, since this is the point to which
I have ever to return, I said in one of the last chapters
that I was harnessed to the chariot of Madame de
Lesdiguieres. Six months, and then a year passed,
and there was I still harnessed to the same shafts,
happy in so sweet a burden, and with no thought of
changing my load or of resting.

You may exclaim at so great a wonder Roquelaure
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 169

caught in the snare ! He who has so long joked at
sentiment and laughed at love is now a captive in the
pretty spider's-web woven of silk and gold ! There
is he trembling at the feet of the fair, sighing forth
madrigals, dreaming in the moonlight, and in a word
a lover . . . hopelessly entangled !

I frankly own that the thing began to make even
me anxious.

But be reassured, dear reader, I shall not be so
inimical to your pleasure as to set before you the
details of my interminable amour ; for these details,
though they are very entertaining to him who plays
his part and sings his music in that marvellous duet
of passion, yet they would prove very insipid matter
for one who is unconcerned, if it were sought to
recount them to him at full length. There are plenty
of other subjects to claim our attention ; and in lieu
of telling you about myself, I will attempt to distract
you for the moment by the exact and faithful story,
not of what I did during the continuance of my
pastoral bliss, but of what I saw, and we shall not
fall short of material, that I vouch ; for though my
heart was closed to all alien impressions, and the fair
Madame de Lesdiguieres alone occupied my thoughts,
my eyes were indefatigable, and I kept them widely
open, so that I observed curiously all the secret motives
displayed in the comedy of human life which was daily
enacted before me.

And first, dear reader, to enliven your spirits,
 
 

170 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

which the sad adventure of the Baroness de Preverenge
has doubtless dashed, I will tell you a little story
which cannot fail to cheer you, as the heroine is a
woman of whom I have already made mention, one
who embellished whatsoever she touched and added
a fragrance wheresoever she passed I mean the
charming Ninon de Lenclos.

Here is the incident :

Ninon, whom everybody loved so much, and who
returned the love so richly to a certain number,
Ninon, whose soul was so gentle that she was ever
more disposed to satisfy all her lovers than to reduce
them to despair, sometimes passed the bounds of her
becoming moderation if she was importuned beyond
all measure. This is proved by what happened one
day to the poet N * * *.

N * * * was a persistent rhymester, who made
verse about everything and on every possible occa-
sion. If you were walking with him and were so
unlucky as to make mention of the moon, he made
you a quatrain on the moon. If you wished him all
prosperity, he acknowledged your good wishes in
alexandrines. In him this habit was a disease, a
fever, a mania. . . . Madame Cornuel said of him
one day that, when they buried him, he would pro-
bably show he was not thoroughly dead by rising up
again to write his epitaph.

Ninon was amused at first by his gallant messages,
but she grew weary of them at last, and ended by
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 17!

thoroughly disliking the poet on account of his
rhymes. From that time forward the poor poet, as
if it were not enough to be repulsed, became the butt
of Ninon's jokes. In a word, he was the target for
every witticism launched by the merry devotees of
the goddess of the Marais.

And Heaven knows she had abundance of de-
votees !

But N * ' did not abandon his quest. Impavidum
fericbant ruinte. He was deluged with epigrams,
pleasantries, and derisive laughter, his ears were
never free from the disagreeable echo of them, but
he persisted in pretending not to notice them.

Every morning when she rose, and every evening
when she retired, Ninon received her little daily
missive.

She recognised it by its perfume of violets or
vanilla, and it sickened her.

But amidst all her reluctance and anger she was a
woman still, that is to say, she was inquisitive.

She never failed to undo the envelope and read
the verses.

Lucky was N * * *, for this was always so much
in his favour.

This procedure had lasted for some time, and
N * * *, warned by the bad reception he met with, no
longer frequented her assemblies. ... It was the
time when Villarceaux reigned over the heart of our
charming Aspasia, and she had not seen N*** for
 
 

172 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

more than three months, when one evening, as night
was falling, as she returned from some place or
another with one of her serving- women, she saw at
her door the hapless rejected suitor, who no doubt
aspired to no more than seeing her himself unseen,
and would then have gone away as he had come.

Ninon, usually so kind and considerate, might well
have had some pity on the luckless mortal, and have
allowed him so trifling a happiness. It is at once so
easy and so pleasant to a pretty woman to let herself
be admired. But Ninon, owing to one of those
caprices which are only to be explained by the
singularity of the feminine character, was naturally
inclined to a harshness towards this suitor, which
was little in accordance with her usual manner.

" What are you doing there ? " she asked him
severely.

" I await the rising of the sun," replied N * * *,
with a gallantry worthy of Astraea.

" Monsieur N * * *," replied Ninon, whose state
of nerves at the time was little favourable to insipid
advances of this kind, " I have to warn you of one
thing : if you still persist in sending me your poetry,
in spite of my forbidding it . . ."

I will not give the conclusion of the sentence
of Ninon de Lenclos in precise terms. The reader,
if he wishes to form an idea of it, need only recall
the piece which our excellent Moliere brought out,
in 1655, at the Petit-Bourbon Theatre, wherein we
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 173

see how Marinette, highly incensed with Gros-Ren6,
cries, alluding to his love-letters :

" Thy letters are not with me, but my ire
Shall soon consign each fragment to the fire."

Whereunto Gros-Rene very sensibly replies :
" And thine . . . thou know'st how I shall use them."

This, under another form, was all Ninon's reply.

N * * ; ' withdrew in a very humbled mood, and
the fair adored one thought she had rid herself of
her stubborn admirer for a long time.

But she had left love out of the reckoning.

That very evening, after supper, where she had
been very merry, just as Ninon de Lenclos, dreaming
of a thousand gracious things, and with her fancy full
of images of delight, was getting into bed, her chamber-
maid knocked at the door, and then came in.

" What is it ? " asked Ninon.

" A letter, Madame."

" From whom ? "

" Look."

She recognised the writing.

" Again ! " she cried, frowning. " Well, with-
draw leave me."

This time Ninon was furious. After being so
ill-treated, this devil of a fellow returned to the
charge ! She felt inclined to burn the letter without
reading it, or else to return it to him insultingly, to
show what heed she took of his pretensions. But
 
 

174 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

the daughter of Eve had the best of it in her, and
the letter was opened. Here is what it contained :

" Hie ! children of my genius, hie 1
Endure the fate which I deplore ;
But as you pass so very nigh,
Announce my presence just next door."

:fc n' rfc ^c 5&

A week later, to the great astonishment of every-
body, the poet N * * *, joyous and envied, was present
at a very sumptuous mediatwche, given by Ninon to
celebrate her birthday, in her charming sanctuary
in the Rue des Tournelles, at the Marais.

But it must not be concluded from this that
Ninon ever accorded to the enamoured N * * * what
he so ardently desired. It is possible, but I cannot
affirm it. All I can say is that from that time forth
she admitted him to one of those frank and lasting
friendships which were so eagerly disputed, and
which she knew how to grant with so much tact

and discernment.

*****

About this time I was sent to the convent of the
Ursulines at Lectoure, to treat with the lady superior
of some settlement or other which had been pending
several years between that community and M. le
Prince de Conti. It was some question of estate and
indemnity, and the prince had selected me to conclude
it, because I had been indirectly concerned in the
matter at the time of my mother's death.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 175

A visit to a convent was a rare occasion in my
life. I approached the building of the Ursulines not
without a secret feeling, the nature of which I can
scarcely define. Was it fear ? Was it respect ? Or
was it merely a profane curiosity ?

There was an endless ceremonial before I was
conducted to the private room of the Mother Abbess.

I simply acquiesced, and kept my mouth shut.

At last I was announced.

The superior was seated in a very large ebony
chair surmounted by a crucifix. She was very busy
reading (some such book as a breviary, no doubt),
and seemed absorbed in her meditations. But when
my name was uttered, she started in her chair, and
eagerly sought to cover her face with her veil.

Unhappily for her, the movement did not effect
all that she intended, and in the superior of the
Ursuline convent I discovered an old acquaintance,
one who will not have been altogether forgotten, and
whom I did not meet again without some perturba-
tion Madame de Mental !

" Take no alarm at my presence," said I, in the
most respectful tones. " I have not come to interrupt
you in your godly converse with Heaven. I am the
representative of a great lord who has been so good
as to intrust his interests to me, and not a single
word from my lips shall recall that past wherein we
should both encounter distressing memories."

" Monsieur le Due," said the Abbess, in a tone of
 
 

176 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

emotion, " I thank you for your goodwill, and the
accents in which you express them convinces me of
their perfect sincerity. But I avow that when I
heard your name, I could not repress a feeling for
which I pray you to pardon me."

" Was it mistrust ? Or was it fear ? "

" Monsieur le Due," replied Madame de Montal,
" it was a painful feeling of confusion, such as pre-
vented my raising my eyes to your face; but your
language has completely reassured me, and now we
can speak of the business which has brought you
hither. You come, do you not, on behalf of M. de
Conti ? "

" Before approaching that subject, let us talk of
ourselves a little, Madame . . ."

" Address me as ma mere," said the Abbess,
blusm'ng.

" Allow me to dispense with that, I pray you . . .
the matter that I desire to treat of here is quite
worldly, and that we may not confound matters of
religion with the business of this world, I will ask
you to be once more for a few instants the fair and
witty Madame de Montal."

She made a gesture of assent.

"You agree? ... I thank you. Well, Madame,
tell me why, gratuitously, without being prompted by
any discernible reason, you once inflicted an affront
upon me before the whole society of Lectoure, by
excluding me from an assembly to which you invited
all my friends ? "
 
 

THE DUG DK ROQUELAUKE 177

" Did not you take a cruel revenge ? " murmured
Madame de Montal. . . " And must I remind you
of that dreadful sacrilege against the confessional,
whereby you surprised a sinner at the very bar of
repentance ? "

" I was wrong, and I committed an unpardonable
crime, I know," answered I with compunction. " But
if my pride had received so grievous a hurt, did you
ever know, Madame, what a blow fell upon my heart
when I listened to the strange confidences that you
unconsciously made to me, both unwittingly and
unwillingly? "

" I do not understand you."

" No one has ever known it, Madame, not even
Latour-Roquelaure, though he shared nearly all my
thoughts ; you yourself would never have learned it,
if a most strange chance had not brought us together
at this moment. . . . After that scene at the con-
fessional, Madame, I returned home, triumphant to
all appearances, but in reality sad, dejected, and
desperate ; for you were lovely in my sight, and
I loved you . . ."

The Abbess was so startled that she jumped back
in her chair.

" Yes, but with as pure a love as that with which I
might adore the angels . . . and I rejoiced in that
virtue of yours, though it seemed to accuse my own
weakness and show my unworthiness. . . I rejoiced
in it because I told myself in secret that if you hated

VOL. Ill \2
 
 

178 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

me, there was no one else in the world whom you
loved ! . . . Those sweet illusions could not endure
after the avowals you made to Father des Martelles,
and scarcely had I committed my misdeed when God
himself punished me for it by raising inextinguishable
regret in my heart."

Madame de Mental remained silent and abashed.

" And you," I resumed, " in spite of the invitation
which you thought fit to send me later, in spite of the
reparation which was wrenched from you by an odious
necessity, did you not hate me and despise me ? "

Madame de Mental sighed, raised her eyes to
heaven, and said to me:

" I think that you understand women, Monsieur
le Due, and yet I see that there are secrets in their
nature of which you are still ignorant. You know not
to what strange changes our firmest ideas are subject,
and our strongest resolutions ; you know not that with
us there is scarcely any event that does not lead to a
reaction, and that if hatred sometimes follows upon
friendship, so does excessive indulgence sometimes
take the place of excessive severity. So it was with
me as concerned you, Monsieur le Due. When once
my first feeling of antagonism had passed away, when
I had made a sacrifice to my own self-esteem which I
judged necessary, I mean that of not receiving you
because of your reputation ... as a bad man, 'tis
the phrase to use, I soon felt regret, for in reality I
was curious, as all women are, and I wished to be
 
 

THE DUG DE ROOUELAURE 179

acquainted with you. When I saw you following

me to the church, the glances which you directed at

me, as you will remember, were such as both to

move me and make me proud. It was a sin, and

I have deeply repented of it since. Then at our

second meeting, after you had taken the place of the

venerable Father des Martelles in the confessional,

I know not what I felt, but beneath the anger 1

showed there was so great a wonder and so deep

a stupefaction, that I cannot say if I were more

indignant or surprised at so blameworthy an act.

When I returned home, I thought of all that had

passed ; of course I regretted an event which had

subjected my modesty to such a rude experiment,

and I shuddered at thinking that I had yielded my

secret to a stranger and a man ! . . . And yet after

a few hours pf reflection, these fears and regrets

vanished ; I cannot explain why I suddenly became

prone to indulgence and forgiveness ; but it is true

that I had little difficulty in convincing myself that

M. de Roquelaure, in spite of his levity, frivolity and

zest for adventures, was none the less a gentleman

of honour, from whom, in spite of the threats he had

thought well to address to me in a moment of anger

and resentment, I had nothing, nothing, to fear."

Madame de Montal had been so noble and so
impressive in uttering these words, that I could not
refrain from throwing myself at her feet.

" Rise," she said to me gently ; " I am glad to

12 2
 
 

l8o SECRET MEMOIRS OF

have seen you again, and I thank Heaven that those
clouds are scattered which might have still arisen
between us. ... For the future, Monsieur le Due,
let us be friends."

She extended her hand to me, and I kissed it
respectfully.

" Now," she resumed in a voice which I thought
betrayed symptoms of tears, " let us speak of the
business about which M. de Conti has sent you to
me."

I could but obey ; we compared figures, we upheld
the respective rights of our clients, she defending
those of her sisterhood, I those of the prince. But
a harmless irregularity was soon introduced into this
serious converse, and I have some doubt that a
notary would have found many things to alter in the
deed which we drew up of common accord. Never-
theless, we came to the end of our business when
it had lasted about three hours. That, no doubt, was
in some part attributable to the time that Madame
de Mental and I had devoted to our reconciliation.

The day was beginning to wane. The abbess of
the Ursulines bade me farewell, and I begged leave
to kiss her hand a second time. She gave consent,
and then, after showing me the way by which I should
quit the place, she enjoined upon me not to forget
her in my prayers, and returned to her oratory.

As for me, as will be seen, I was not yet within
a great deal of leaving the convent of the Ursulines
at Lectoure.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE l8l

It was a day of adventures, and those days are
like the runs of luck that sometimes come to you
at games of chance. You know when they begin;
but you never know when they will end.

I was withdrawing, and was passing down a long
gallery which took me towards the garden, when,
coming to a kind of parlour, I heard voices and steps
near that door of the place which was the further
from me. If I advanced, I should subject myself
to a further demand for explanations and a fresh
annoyance. There was a small chamber beside the
room, which was at the moment half-open.

The surprise which ensued for me was of the
most agreeable kind that can be imagined.

A girl of heavenly beauty was the first to appear.
Behind her came a woman of about fifty years of
age, of a harsh and hard appearance, with her hair
in grizzled ringlets, a badly preserved old man, and
an abbe of uncertain age. The last-mentioned was
full of importance and was out of breath. He was
exchanging looks of intelligence with the old lady,
and interspersed these with smiles wherein was to
be perceived that kind of treachery which, unhappily,
is peculiar to certain men of God.

These four persons seated themselves in a circle,
silently, deliberately, and their grave and solemn
bearing was such as would have befitted inquisitors
summoned to judge a heretic or a sorcerer. The
girl seemed very indifferent to these imposing airs,
 
 

l8'2 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

and looked silently at the cornices of the ceiling,
like those idle scholars who come to a class resolved
to pay no attention to what is told them.

The old man, upon a sign from the woman and
the abbe, began the discourse, after a great deal
of coughing, as is generally the practice with those
about to commence upon a delicate and embarrassing
question :

" Mademoiselle Marguerite -Valerie de Roche-
plate," said he, "you have hitherto been deaf to
all the exhortations of your family. . . . You are
like a little rock, unmoved by the gentlest words
and the wisest reasons. We shall see if you will
prove more tractable here."

" Here ? Where am I, then ? " cried the pretty
child, gazing around her with curiosity.

" At the convent of the Ursulines, niece," replied
the old gentleman, who now had a fit of coughing
yet more violent than the former access.

"A convent. . . . Oh, that is delightful, my
dear uncle. If you knew how happy I was at the
convent of Sainte-Mary at Cambrai, where I left so
many charming and devoted friends I"

The abbe smiled.

" This convent is not altogether like the one of
which you speak, Mademoiselle, and it is not likely
that you will here find girls as careless and feather-
brained as yourself. This is a house, niece, where
life is spent in meditation, where eternal salvation
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 183

is thought of, and, in a word, where they pray to
Heaven ! "

" Why, uncle, I have never failed in that duty,
night or morning ! But it seems to me that any
place will serve for that. . . . Why should I pray
better here than in my father's house, the chateau
de Rocheplate ? "

" Nay, nay," interrupted the old woman im-
patiently, "my brother-in-law is right. There is
no question here of your father, who is out of France,
nor of his chateau, which will soon be his no longer.
And even if he were here, it would be no sight to
see a young lady of your rank beneath the same
roof as a man of scarcely forty-two, who, since he
was a widower, has piled folly upon folly. ... It
is six months since he left for Constantinople, and
we have only heard twice from him, and in the
second letter he tells us that he will probably not
return for a year. We should not be surprised, now
that he is in such a place, if he turned renegade from
Christianity, and had himself made a pasha to kill
time. Your father, whom I love because he is my
brother," added the harsh old woman, " is a mad-
man, whom we shall perhaps be obliged to place
under an interdiction . . . and in that case you
understand that it is our duty, our duty as kind and
devoted relatives, to think of you, a poor neglected
child, possessing unhappily so fair an exterior that it
might become, if we were not watchful, the destruc-
 
 

184 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

tion of your soul and the cause of your perdition in
the next world."

" Madame la Comtesse de Bois-Bertaut is right,"
said the old man, as if to round off the sounding
periods of his sister-in-law.

The countess, tired by her piece of fine speaking,
was solemnly wiping her forehead.

At the name of Bois-Bertaut I had pricked up my
ears. Shortly before, La Tour-Roquelaure had told
me of the plots that were being slyly hatched in that
family. I beat my brains for facts, and almost at
once I remembered that M. de Rocheplate had a vast
fortune, that his admirable daughter, whose beauty
and innocence were equally vaunted, was the sole
heiress of it ; but that his near kin, and first among
them his sister, who had married a Bois-Bertaut,
were taking advantage of certain follies he had com-
mitted, about which there had been some little
scandal, and were secretly endeavouring to induce
his daughter to enter a convent, and when she had
taken the vows finally, they would obtain the inter-
diction of her father. In this ingenious way all the
fortune of the Marquis de Rocheplate would be
diverted in the natural course to the Bois-Bertaut
branch, and the lovable child, thus sacrificed to a
vile cupidity, would only have the satisfaction, a sad
enough one at her age, and above all in the absence
of a real vocation, that she might hope for salvation
in the life to come, and that she would be espoused
to God!
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 185

Are there many girls, young, fresh and of sound
constitution, who are very eager for such a marriage ?
I do not think so.

Mademoiselle de Rocheplate, I fancy, shared my
opinion.

Knowing the secret motives of the business, I
guessed what the end was to be.

Madame de Bois-Bertaut, taking advantage of
Rocheplate's absence, for the Marquis was in fact at
Constantinople, was trying to cajole the charming
Valerie, that she might bring her to renounce her
rights by voluntarily accepting the religious prison
which was pressed on her with so much insistence
and with reasons more specious than sound.

The lady spoke a great deal more, while the abb6
did nothing but breathe hard, and she concluded with
these words, while the old Comte de Bois-Bertaut,
her brother-in-law, leaning gravely on his cane,
listened to her as silently and impassively as a coun-
sellor at the Parlement, and Mademoiselle did her best
to stifle her desire to yawn.

" So, Mademoiselle, the upshot is that it is your
welfare that we have in view . . ."

I could not help smiling to myself at this naivete.

" And to reach so satisfactory a result for you and
for the whole family, we have but to bring you to
this honoured house, where we have appointed to
meet an eloquent person who will make you feel,
better than we can, all the advantages and all the
 
 

l86 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

good points of the decision we should like you to take.
This person, who has persuaded many others more
rebellious and more recalcitrant, and less educated
than you, will not hesitate at anything that might
show you your interests and put you in the best way
to arrive at the double end we desire for you, that is,
your personal happiness and your high repute in the
world. My dear Valerie, do you here promise your
uncle and me, in our presence, that you will in all
respects attend to the teacher who will be here soon,
with whom we shall leave you alone, so that you may
collect your mind and inwardly receive the grace that
he will certainly endeavour to bring from high heaven
upon you ? "

" Yes, I promise," replied Valerie in such a tone
of weariness as might be expected of one who seeks
to end a tiresome discussion at any cost.

The abbe made a solemn sign of consent, and
pointed to the door as if he would have Madame de
Bois-Bertaut to understand that it was time to leave.

The old man rose ; the abbe did the same.
Madame de Bois-Bertaut solemnly kissed her niece
upon the forehead, and said in just such an over-
bearing and imperious tone as captains of mousquetaires
use in speaking to their companies :

" Let us go."

In going out they had to pass in front of the
little room where I was concealed. ... I heard
the old gentleman say in a low tone :
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 187

" Why do not we wait for the bishop ? "
" His lordship bade me leave Valerie alone to her
meditations for half an hour before he came. He
is to be here at nine o'clock. It is now half-past
eight, and so this is the very moment to withdraw."
She turned about again and repeated :
" Farewell, my dear child, farewell ! "
A moment later, this conspirator of high degree,
with the old man and the abbe, who had played the
respective parts of mute and accomplice, disappeared
within the great stone corridor of the convent, the
heavy door was closed behind them, and all I heard
was the loud echo of their steps on the pavement of
the galleries. I widened the opening through which
I was looking into the parlour a little, and for a
moment was rewarded by one of the most interest-
ing sights that it has ever been given to a man to
ehold.
 
 

SECRET MEMOIRS OF
 
 

CHAPTER XXXV

1 determine to oppose these disgraceful tricks Serious results
of the adventure Flight, separation, hope destroyed A
journey into Switzerland Whither romance can lead us
Siege of Bordeaux I am wounded State of affairs The
Fronde at bay The journey from Reims Intrigues of the
Duke of Saint-Simon against me I go to Reims as a simple
amateur The anointing of Louis XIV. Appearance in the
town of Reims The holy ampulla The coronation The
royal festivities The cavalcade at Saint-Remy.

THE lamps still burnt and threw a doubtful and
trembling light on every object. These great walls,
cold and naked, this bare table, with the common
inkstand, these crucifixes of wood, these seats, the
hardness of which revealed the severity of the dis-
cipline of the place, and to complete the picture, a
handsome and dreamy-looking girl, her hair dressed
in the latest fashion, and clad in the last style of
the day all this presented a curious, singular, and
original picture, to which the principal character
formed a most striking contrast.

In the first place, Mademoiselle Valerie seemed
charmed to have no longer before her eyes the
faces of the three personages whose physiognomy
I have tried to sketch, but soon the complete soli-
 
 

THE DUG DE KOQUELAURE 189

tude, the mysterious solemnity of silence, the half-
darkness which surrounded her, ended by agitating
her so much that she was seized with a sort of
convulsive trembling, and going towards the prie-
dieu, she lifted her eyes to heaven :

" O God ! O God ! what do they want to do
to me ! "

It was evident that she had been kept up till
now by a sentiment of defiance and hostility, which
she had doubtless secretly cherished against the
three relatives who had brought her here. But
Nature now redemanded her rights, and the weak-
ness of the young girl thoroughly betrayed itself.

My first idea was to fly to her assistance ; my first
movement was to rush towards her.

Hut a certain fear kept me back.

I should doubtless frighten her . . . she might
scream for help, compromise herself, and me with
her, and turn the peaceful convent topsy-turvy. . . .

What was to be decided on ?

Ought I to resign myself to stand, virtuous, pru-
dent, motionless, three paces from her, without daring
to budge or say a word ?

The punishment of Tantalus could not have been
more hateful to me.

She remained several minutes upon her knees . . .
then, slowly rising, she walked round the room as
if to examine the furniture more closely ; this furni-
ture, as I have said, was very simple and severe.
 
 

SECRET MEMOIRS OF

She seemed a little more calm, almost comforted.

I coughed gently. She listened without seeming
so very much frightened.

Delighted with this first success, I pushed the
door open and presented myself to her eyes.

To my great surprise, she remained perfectly cool,
and looked at me with an appearance of no other
sentiment than a lively curiosity. I, thereupon, made
her a low bow.

" It is probably you, sir, whose visit my aunt, the
Marquise of Bois-Bertaut, announced."

The innocent girl suggested to me, unknown to
herself, an excellent and luminous idea.

" 'Tis I," I answered, in the gravest manner in
the world.

" Can I know your name," she said, with a little
hesitation.

" My name is "

I hesitated for a moment.

Why lie to so beautiful an angel ?

Her perfect candour had a right to a similar frank-
ness on my part ; besides an idea, which, prompt
and rapid as a flash of lightning, at that moment
entered my brain, leaving there the germ of a project
which might determine my future and my life. I
knew the name of this adorable child, I knew her
family by reputation it was one of the best of the
noble families of Cambresis. I saw her about to
become the prey of barbarous relatives, who wished
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE IQI

to keep her, for their own profit, out of her paternal
succession, and I resolved to become for her the pro-
tector from whom they tried to isolate her, in order to
get the better of her conscience and her will.

Thoroughly decided to play the part of Providence,
1 added with assurance : " Men call me the Due de
Roquelaure."

Her countenance never changed. Evidently she
heard my name for the first time in her life. That
did not astonish me, seeing that I was certainly
less known at young girls' nunneries than at the
court.

44 Mademoiselle," said I, suggesting that she should
sit by me, " Madame the Countess of Bois-Bertaut,
if I have thoroughly understood her intentions, has
strongly advised you to intrust the care of your future
to the person who will come this evening, and, with
the intention of being useful to you, have a conversa-
tion with you in this parlour."

44 Yes, Monsieur le Due."

44 And is your confidence in your aunt strong
enough for you to consent, on her simple exhortation,
to follow blindly the advice which this person, of
whom you know nothing, should choose to give
you?"

44 My father is away, Duke, and the Countess of
Bois-Bertaut, his sister, is my only relative in the
world. You see, I am forced to do as she says ; but
I confess that her severe manner and her hard ways
 
 

IQ2 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

have frightened me as to the result of this mys-
terious interview, which was forced on me by her,
if my cousin, the Abbe de Louvigny, who is recently
ordained, and of whom everyone in the family speaks
well, had not secretly advised me to yield, on this
occasion, to everything that was demanded of me."

" I know the reputation of the Abbe de Louvigny,"
answered I to handsome Valerie de Rocheplate, " and
I know that he passes for being a man who is very
pure, very honest, and who accomplishes with the
greatest exactitude the duties of religion. But I can-
not keep from thinking that he has almost trifled, not
to say been imprudent, in telling you to submit to
something of the nature and consequences of which
he might be himself ignorant. Has he explained
nothing to you."

" Oh, of course, of course ! " cried the young lady,
blushing deeply and with indiscreet vivacity.

" Has he named the person with whom you have
to communicate ? "

" No."

" Has he enlightened you as to what may be de-
manded of you ? "

" Not precisely."

" What did he tell you ? "

" He told me he told me "

" Come now, I have to know all about it."

" Well, Monsieur le Due, he told me that the
man in whom the care of my future would be placed
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 193

would have an angel's voice and the persuasive lan-
guage of the saints ; that he would advise me with
the view of my eternal happiness ; that nothing which
had been taught me up to now in the convent had
been of a nature to satisfy any of my desires ; that he
would reveal to me, poor ignorant girl that I am, the
true state of the blessed in heaven ; in one word,
that he would teach me the delights of the only
marriage which a Christian virgin is allowed to wish
for in this world, that holy communion of souls," she
added with fervour, " which gives to simple mortals
a foretaste of the joys of Paradise ! "

" So," said I, after a short pause, "you have made
up your mind ? "

" To listen to you, to follow your instructions,
yes," replied the ardent neophyte, lowering her eyes
and blushing divinely.

I held back a last hesitation which was in my mind,
but almost immediately a determined, irrevocable reso-
lution succeeded my indecision. Everything was clear.
There were evident incontestable intrigues. They had
determined to take advantage of the innocence of this
young girl, in order to keep her out of her fortune and
fling her on that path where consumption, despair and
death perhaps awaited her. They had determined to
bury her alive in this convent ; it was to be her pre-
destined tomb.

" No," said I to myself, " the wolf who has reserved
this delicious prey for himself shall not enter here, the
VOL. in 13
 
 

IQ4 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

bishop shall not accomplish his purpose. But first let
me close the door and draw the bolt." The action
followed the word, and I came back, and, taking
Mademoiselle de Rocheplate by the hand, I led her
to the little secret chamber where I had been pre-
viously hidden. I made her sit down, and fell on my
knees before her.

" Why do you do that ? " she stammered, looking
at me in astonishmeut.

" I ask your pardon, dear Valerie, beforehand, for
all I am going to tell you."

" All that is quite unnecessary ; you have my aunt's
authority for everything. My cousin, the Abbe de
Louvigny, said that I might have every confidence in
you."

" And they were both right," said I, " for I will
save you from the evil which these wretches would
have done you, and I will only use the power which
has been given me to dissipate the clouds with which
certain interested people wished to surround your
mind. Dear child ! have you ever loved ? "

" Yes ! oh, yes! I loved my father with all the force
of my soul."

I breathed once more, for the first part of her
answer had made me tremble.

" Have you ever felt a taste for the religious life ? "

" Pray explain yourself."

"Have you ever wished to enter a religious
house ? "
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE IQ5

" You mean . . . ? "

" To take the veil, to renounce for ever all the
pleasures of this world, to shut yourself up for ever
in a cloister."

" I I had rather die ! "

" Tis well I wanted to be assured as to that at
first."

I looked at her silently. The word cloister had
caused her to turn pale. She seemed ready to faint
away.

" Reassure yourself," said I, "such a sad existence
is not in store for you."

Then I pressed her lovely fingers to my lips.

" You frightened me when you talked to me of
taking the veil," murmured Valerie. " But that will
never be ; you swear it to me ? "

" Could such chains befit hands as sweet and
white as yours, Valerie ? Could eyes so beautiful,
so brilliant, be doomed to be eternally fixed upon
a hideous prison ? Could so much beauty be hidden
away without a crime ? No, Valerie, that is impos-
sible, that can never be ! "

" You are pleased to say that to quiet me."

" And now, Valerie, that we understand that a
future of suffering and of tears is not for you, shall
I give you the key to your destiny ? "

" To hear it from your mouth will be a double
pleasure," cried Mademoiselle de Rocheplate, " be-
cause I now understand all the sympathy that they
tried just now to inspire in me for you."

132
 
 

196 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" Well, then, your destiny, Valerie, will be that
of those whom you resemble. You are beautiful. . . .
You will be feted, admired, desired by all. . . . You
are good, you will be loved . . . you are loved
already. . . ."

" And by whom, pray ? "

" By me, who will be, if it be your will, your
first teacher in the art of happiness."

" Heavens ! your words make me tremble . . .
and yet I have no fear of you."

I rose and placed myself at her side. One of
my arms slipped round her waist.

" Why do you press me so closely ? " said she.

" The better to communicate my thoughts to you,
Valerie."

" But your head is resting on my shoulder . . ."

" That is because I have many things to say,
Valerie, secretly, quite low, in your ear."

" Nevertheless, you say nothing ! "

"I dream! . . .Oh, dropoff as I do, Valerie!
There are dreams so seductive, so sweet ! "

" But it is not by going to sleep that you will
give me those lessons which my aunt had prepared
me for."

" Perhaps ! The sleep which I counsel you to
is but the sleep of the soul ; it is full of charming
images and sweet fancies."

" But ... Oh, Duke ! . . ."

"Valerie . . Valerie ..."
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE IQ7

"Holy Virgin ! I feel your lips upon my cheek . . .
you are kissing me ? . . . "

" Imprudent girl ! to thus reproach me ; you have
been obliged to turn towards me, and now your lips
are touching mine. That is no fault of mine, I trust ? "

" Nor of mine ... I didn't do it on purpose,"
said Valerie, languishingly.

And her mouth as it stammered the words re-
mained glued to mine. Her eyes shot forth long
flames which burnt me like sun-rays. I gave it up ;
my hand slipped from her waist the soft stuff of her
skirt caused a sort of burning thrill to my whole
being, and made my brain whirl. ... I lost my
head. . . .

x- -x- *- * *

Valerie, faithful to the instructions that had been
so often repeated, gave full proofs of the most per-
fect submission, and I had the joy to hear her murmur
in a feeble voice :

" Yes . . . this is happiness . . . this is true
happiness."

An hour was passed in the charming gambols of
this lesson; perhaps it was a little too philosophic
for Mademoiselle de Rocheplate. It was time to
fly ; for how could we explain our manifest dis-
order ? . . . I bade Valerie follow me, and she
showed no more resistance to my will than she had
done up to now. My coach awaited me at the
door of the convent. The serving sister, who kept
 
 

198 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

the door, never dreaming that I was carrying off
a novice, and noticing besides the lay dress of the
young girl, allowed me to pass, making me a very
respectful bow.

We were hardly rumbling over the stones of the
high-road than his grace the bishop arrived at the
convent. I kept my reflections to myself, and I
answered Valerie, who asked me whither we were
going :

" To one of my relations, where you can cor-
respond with your family and write to your father."

I thereupon conducted Mademoiselle de Rocheplate
to the house of the excellent Dowager de V * * *,
whose name I do not set down here, because I
know that during her life she had a horror of every
sort of scandal, and that it would be contrary to
her wish to be exhibited in Memoirs which some
day or other may be printed. The good lady had
given herself up to God. This statement will surely
surprise some of my readers, who will not understand
why I should, under such circumstances, have taken
refuge under the protecting wing of religious ideas.
But they will recover from their surprise when I
state at the same time that my folly with the beautiful
Valerie de Rocheplate was entirely free from any
odious and culpable after-thought, that not even in
thought had I quitted the sentiment of honour which
caused me to regard as sacred the precious treasure
of candour and innocence of which chance had
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 199

rendered me the possessor. In one word, I intended
to make good the evil I had committed, and I
should have looked upon myself as the most miserable
of mankind if, even in the middle of the most delicious
moments of my happiness, I had not cherished the
formal intention of sanctifying everything by means
of marriage.

For the first time in my life, in reality, the word
marriage did not frighten me.

The good Madame de V * * *, to whom I only
told be it understood a part of what had happened,
took a great deal of trouble for me in the business.
The abduction had caused some scandal. She it
was who saw the Countess of Bois-Bertaut, Valerie's
old uncle, and even the young abbe, who could not
understand how the bishop's visit had been escaped.
All these good people were very angry indeed. The
trap they had set, threatened to be fatal to themselves ;
they soon became more tractable, and agreed to a
compromise. They wrote to Constantinople, whence
Monsieur de Rocheplate replied, that as he was
studying Mussulman customs, he was no longer
much of a partisan of Christian marriages; but
that, nevertheless, he did not think he ought to
apply his new ideas to the establishment of his
dear daughter, and that, consequently, he would
approve in advance any decision of Madame de
V * * *, all the more that the name of Roquelaure
seemed to him in every way acceptable, etc., etc.
 
 

2CO SECRET MEMOIRS OF

Everything, then, was happening for the best,
when several incidents occurred which were enough
to break off everything at the moment when they
were least expected.

Good Madame de V * * * died suddenly. Then
Valerie's family, which had shown a brave face
against misfortune, and which saw itself forced to
yield to an unfavourable concatenation of circum-
stances, resolved to take a sudden revenge. The
same day that they told me that my old relative had
died during the previous night, they informed me
that at about ten o'clock in the morning the Countess
of Bois-Bertaut, having come to ask for Valerie, had
begged her to come downstairs on the plea of speak-
ing to her uncle, whose state of health prevented his
going up to see her, and that then she had forced her
to take the third place in a post-chaise, drawn by three
horses, which immediately started off at a furious
gallop.

I rushed about all day to obtain further details.

No one knew anything.

The following day I moved heaven and earth to
discover the place of her retreat. It was impossible !

In their turn, they had carried her off.

At last, by researches, prayers, and flinging money
about, I became certain that the unworthy Countess
of Bois-Bertaut, fearing that I should play off against
her the influence of certain powerful protectors, had
crossed the frontier and taken Valerie with her to a
foreign land.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 2OI

Seven months passed in this way. I obtained
no further news of the matter. I sent a long letter
to Monsieur de Rocheplate. He never even acknow-
ledged it.

I thought that perhaps the good man, having
at last become a pasha, had at length gone out of
his mind.

About this time my love-affair with Madame de
Lesdiguieres came to an end. I can say, besides,
that this passion did not cease suddenly, but that
it became extinguished by degrees, and that it was
transformed into a real and tender friendship.
Madame de Lesdiguieres, I can affirm upon my
word of honour, had no more devoted slave than
me.

In order to finish at once with the history of
Mademoiselle de Rocheplate, I will skip at a jump
certain events that ought to find their place here,
and go forward a whole year in my narrative.

An important affair having called me one day
to Lucerne, I determined to profit by this circum-
stance to examine the neighbourhood, said to be
both beautiful and curious.

It was in the month of July, and from the first
hour of my arrival I arranged matters for this prin-
cipal object of my journey. I had also to get a
certain signature for the settlement of a territorial
interest, and, the affair being transacted without
difficulty, I found myself at liberty to do as I
pleased with my time.
 
 

202 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

I commenced with an exploration of the country.

Lucerne is in a delicious position. The Reuss,
which rushes from the beautiful Waldstcetten Lake,
divides it into two portions ; one is called the little
and the other large town. The Swiss Alps, covered
with their eternal mantle of snow, make an admirable
frame, ornamented with diamonds and precious stones,
which sparkle in every direction from the light of the
sun, for the town.

I had already visited the Pont des Moulins, on
which one notices Meglinger's pictures of the " Dance of
Death" and the "Tour d'Eaux," which rises like a light-
house above the Reuss ; the arsenal, built close to the
Berne Gate; and the abbey church, whose harmonious
carillon I listened to with pleasure. It is easy to
understand that I began to feel tired, when, on a
sudden, passing along the left bank of the River
Reuss, I perceived . . .

Who . . . ?

Valerie . . . Valerie herself!

She was alone, and walked rapidly.

I ran to her, I called her ; my heart beat with
violence. She turned, gave a little scream, and grew
very pale. I caught her in my arms, and some
seconds after she said :

" Ah ! duke, why did cruel Fortune separate us ?
You were very, very angry with me, were you not ? "

" I ! I angry with you, angel of goodness ! Can
you think it ? I found out that you were carried
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 203

off by force from the house of the estimable Madame
de V :;: * * ; all I could do was to pity you."

" Oh, thanks ! In my misfortune, my greatest
fear was that you might have thought me an accom-
plice in that sudden and inexplicable flight."

" But why are you here ? What are you doing
in this place ? Why are you alone ? "

" If you want me to answer all those questions,"
said Valerie, " come with me, I will conduct you,
where we shall be at liberty to make mutual explana-
tions, and to confide to each other those strange
vicissitudes which have been impossible for us to
struggle -against. "

I offered her my arm ; she took it, and I accom-
panied her into a street which wound behind the
church of St. Pierre. We shortly entered a smart-
looking house, to which nothing was wanting but a
little life and movement. It seemed a cloister, rendered
comfortable according to modern requirements. She
made me sit beside her, and, commencing at the death
of the Dowager de V * * *, told me, without a single
exception, the strange details of her abduction.
Madame de Bois - Bertaut carried her off without
giving her a chance of reflecting or of making any
plan whatever, and, after five days' travelling, the
pair arrived at Lucerne. There she was conducted
to a convent, the rules of which were very severe.
The abbess agreed to watch her strictly, and swore
it by an oath on her eternal salvation ; this appeared
 
 

2O4 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

to completely tranquillise Madame Bois-Bertaut. But
Valerie (thanks to me, perhaps) was no longer a feeble
lamb, who would allow herself to be conducted to her
doom without a word. She determined to leave the
convent, and one fine evening, having purchased the
assistance of a lay-sister, who pitied her unfortunate
position, she escaped, and found herself in the middle
of the street, delighted to have gained her liberty, but
not knowing what to do with it, and dying of fear
that she should be exposed to insult. Happily, a
brilliant thought struck her. She remembered that
her father had spoken of a certain friend of his at
Lucerne, named M. de Matignon. She made en-
quiries, succeeded in discovering his dwelling, and
told him everything. M. de Matignon was an excel-
lent man, with a loyal mind and pitiful heart. For
a long while he turned over in his mind the means
for removing his old friend's daughter from the perils
which surrounded her. He saw that she was alone,
abandoned by all, surrounded by implacable enemies
who were interested in her ruin ; he was horrified to
think that M. de Rocheplate, semi-madman that he
was, was no longer capable of asserting his paternal
authority. M. de Matignon perceived all these things,
and he feared for Valerie's future.

" There is, perhaps, one way of arranging it all,"
he said to her; "only say the word, and you may
become my wife. I possess a large fortune ; this
marriage will at the same time save your property
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 205

and place you beyond the cruel pursuit of your
relations. Let me have your decision."

Valerie stopped at this point in her tale ; then she
recommenced in a sorrowful voice :

" What would you have done in my place ? My
situation was a terrible one. It seemed to me, as
I listened to this kind man's proposal, that I
was as one who was drowning, and that someone
threw me a rope to rescue me. On the other hand,
many months had elapsed since you and I were
separated. I feared the vengeance of my aunt, I
dreaded a scandal, I knew not how to find you ; in
one word, I was at the end of my resources, I had lost
my head I accepted the offer."

" You are married ? " cried I, trembling from head
to foot.

"Yes, duke, to M. de Matignon."

" Well what sort of a man is he ? "

" Oh ! the best man in the world but not the
handsomest."

" How old is he ? "

" He is fifty-five years of age."

I gave a sigh of relief. Valerie's hand still remained
in mine.

" But," I asked, " where is he, how is it I do not
see him here ? "

" M. de Matignon, a Frenchman by birth, has been
for many years a naturalised Swiss ; he holds an im-
portant post in the Government of this country. Just
 
 

206 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

now, he is gone to Geneva to fill a mission of import-
ance. He will not return for a week."

After this narration, which was scattered over with
avowals which must have been very difficult for
Valerie to make, the little clouds which had risen
between us were dissipated, and perfect cordiality
was soon re-established. We thought no more of
M. de Matignon, but of each other, and I perceived
with secret plesaure that Valerie was not more
annoyed than I was at the change that my arrival
brought to her tranquil life.

We had a week to ourselves, a week during which
we could talk and enjoy communion of ideas, in which
we could think of the past, delight in the present, and
even look forward to the future. Our first idea was
to visit together the environs of Lucerne. I was
curious to see them, and Valerie good-naturedly
offered to be my guide. I was overjoyed at the vision
of happiness in store for me.

Our departure was fixed for the next day.

During her stay at Lucerne, Valerie had become a
valiant and intrepid mountaineer, she knew the district
as thoroughly as if she had been born there ; the
most perilous navigation of the lake was familiar to
her, and her foot had more than once climbed the
high mountains which surrounded every portion of
the horizon. I will not speak of our excursions on the
lake, though they have left delicious memories; I shall
glide rapidly over our trip to Griitli, where William
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 2QJ

Tell's chapel is situated, that I may arrive the more
quickly at our ascent of the Righi, the memory of
which will be evermore engraven on my heart.

The evening was already a little advanced, when,
after a long climb on the backs of mules, we reached
the Staffel, where we were to pass the night. Valerie
was in a severely-cut costume, which suited her to per-
fection. I devoured her with my eyes, and alternately
admired the power of the Creator and the two wonders
I had before me a woman's beauty and Nature's
magnificence. She ordered a separate room for
herself, without seeming to comprehend a sly look
which I gave her, whose eloquence ought to have
been clear enough. I was forced, to my great regret,
to separate myself from her, after bidding her a
respectful good-night.

It had been arranged that they should call us at
three o'clock in the morning. An old guide, one
Thomaso Pilati, a native of Piedmont, was to con-
duct us to one of the peaks of the mountain, whither
people came, as he said, from every quarter of the
globe, to see the sunrise.

We went to bed. Did Valerie sleep ? I cannot
say. But one thing I can affirm, and that is that I
never closed my eyes.

At the hour arranged we were afoot. The at-
mosphere was most favourable, the summits of the
neighbouring peaks appearing through the bluish
vapours which floated over the mountains continu-
 
 

208 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

ally, even in the clearest weather. We were going to
enjoy in all its fulness one of the most admirable de-
lights which can be furnished by the sight of a magical
and divine picture. Valerie seemed to feel a childlike
joy in guiding me upon a path which was altogether
new to me, and in pointing out what best deserved
my attention.

Pilati, our guide, made us ascend by means of a
sweet and green slope, which exhaled such delicious
odours as to intoxicate me. Just at this time, Valerie
began to be a little weary, and her figure rested
against my arm with adorable abandonment. I asked
her if she would like to sit down.

" No," she said, " not yet awhile. Thomaso, let
us cross this rock, and help us to get as soon as
possible to that tiny cave where we reposed so de-
liciously on that last excursion which I made with
you in this direction with Madame des Valettes."

The guide obeyed, and in less than a quarter of
an hour we found the grotto. It was that sort of
fabulous cavern which the old authors delight in de-
scribing. Broken stones covered with grass seemed
to defend the entrance. The opening was arched
above, so that it resembled the door of a church.

" Let us penetrate this granite temple," said
Valerie, placing her hand in mine ; " I wish to show
you the most beautiful sight you have ever admired
in your life."

I let her lead me. Our guide, at a sign from
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 20Q

Valerie, descended towards a little cottage where it
was usual to refresh oneself and rest the mules. The
good man doubtless needed a draught of wine, for he
was sixty, and notwithstanding his great experience
in these climbs, he had not strength enough to struggle
with limbs younger and more muscular than his own.

When we were alone, a sense of well-being, whose
nature I cannot precisely define, filled our bodies and
rapidly communicated itself to our souls. Our entire
lives were passing before our eyes. The sky by
degrees grew white, the stars became dimmed, and
the pale glories of the night disappeared, minute by
minute, as the light of day grew brighter. As the
dawn spread its rays over nature, the light mists and
diaphanous clouds of the mountain vanished as though
a mysterious breath had dispersed them.

At this spectacle, both Valerie and I remained
stupefied and immovable. Our thoughts grew
troubled, our hands were tightly clasped ; all our
remembrances of past happiness awoke once more ;
and, yielding to a transport, which the wonders we
were witnessing increased, we fell into each other's
arms, and forgot the entire world.

That day I realised one of the most ardently
desired dreams of my life. . . .

A week later, I left Lucerne with much heartfelt
regret.

I learnt later on that Valerie quitted Lucerne,
having been obliged to follow her husband into
Germany, whither his official functions called him.
VOL. in 14
 
 

2IO SECRET MEMOIRS OF

I have never seen her since.

The war of the Fronde placed a climax on the
favours which had been showered upon me. I was
present at the siege of Bordeaux under circumstances
remarkable enough to justify a full and particular
narration.

The whole of the town, excited by the incendiary
proclamations of the Prince of Conde, was a prey to
the most abominable disorder. At Bordeaux, neither
laws, nor rulers, nor magistrates were recognised.
That giddy spirit which it had originally borrowed
from the capital had rapidly filled the whole of the
south of France ; and the culpable complicity of
the princes in this seditious movement could at any
instant become the cause of the most irreparable
and odious misfortunes.

Royalty, menaced on every side, had need of
brave defenders. I can boast of having never re-
coiled a single step in the most difficult moments
which my fidelity and devotion had to pass through.

The siege of Bordeaux offered to my mind the
opportunity of fulfilling a great duty and to reap
some laurels. That was enough to inflame my
courage, and I prayed Providence to make me
worthy of the height of the mission I had to carry
out.

The campaign was not very long. After many
days' preparation the attack was ordered. I was
in the very front of the battle, the best proof of
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 211

my zeal being an arquebuse ball which I received
through my body. I was placed upon the sick list.
But I had already done enough to be satisfied with
myself, and I had the happiness to learn on my
bed of pain that the definite advantage had re-
mained with the royal troops, and that the insur-
rection had been completely quelled.

During the time of my convalescence, great events
followed in rapid succession, and all turned out most
favourably.

The Revolution made its last struggles. Beaufort
and Nemours marched upon Orleans, and Paris at-
tempted to renew those disorders which had previously
deluged its streets with blood. Men even saw the
truly original spectacle of a woman, Mademoiselle
de Montpensier, the daughter of Gaston of Orleans,
who set forth, wearing a riding-habit, followed by
Mesdames de Fiesque and de Frontenac, whom she
called the marshals of her camp, to join the army
of the rebels.

But all these efforts were destined to be without
results. Conde, conquered in the south, was obliged
to cross France in disguise, and Turenne gave him
a terrible lesson at Bleneau. This victory of the
king's troops was a glorious one, and the cannon,
which Mademoiselle caused to be fired from the
ramparts of the Bastille, was but the powerless
echo of the cries of distress of the flying Frondeurs.

Now that we have at length finished with the

142
 
 

212 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

sad episode of the wars of France, let us hasten
to arrive at the most glorious epoch of the time,
that is to say, the moment when Louis XIV., taking
the sceptre with a firm hand, ceased to be the play-
thing of the passions of a frivolous and ambitious
court, and showed himself indeed a king.

When I came back from Bordeaux, perfectly
cured and ready for new amorous or warlike expe-
ditions, my first care was to go to court and to
thank those of my friends and protectors who had
interested themselves in my advancement. I had
the happiness of being received with the kindest
distinction by his majesty, who even deigned to say
a word or two in the ear of Monseigneur the Cardinal
Mazarin. I should have been considerably embar-
rassed at the time to guess the reason of this strange
aside; but that very evening the explanation was
given me in the most natural and agreeable manner
in the world.

I received at my residence the title and patent
of duke and peer.

This favour gave universal satisfaction at court,
and everyone heartily congratulated me, with the
sole exception of M. de Saint -Simon, who hated
me, I know not why, and who had the bad taste
to exhibit his annoyance, at which certain persons
were considerably amused. Saint-Simon perceived,
unfortunately a little too late, the deplorable effect
produced by his bitterness against me. He sue-
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 213

ceeded, nevertheless, by his intrigues in doing me
an injury, which I found out to be due to his ill-will.
The journey to Reims, for the coronation ceremony,
was about to be made, and I knew that there was a
question as to my forming a portion of the official
group. Thanks to the underhand manoeuvres of M.
de Saint-Simon, this mark of distinction was not
accorded me.

I consoled myself by undertaking the voyage to
Reims on my own account.

If the reader will permit it, I will present him with
a picture in miniature of the imposing ceremony, with
which the whole of Europe was pre-occupied for
several months.

It was the 3rd of June, 1654.

The king and queen arrived at about a league from
Reims, where they were received by the magistrates,
who were accompanied by two thousand well-mounted
townsmen and followed by five thousand armed men
on foot, who lined the road, and who made the air
resound with so many acclamations of joy, which
expressed their affection far better than the triumphal
arches and other sumptuous decorations which they
would have erected if an order to the contrary had
not placed bounds to their zeal.

The lieutenant of the townsmen attended the king
to the gate of the city itself. Here he presented the
silver keys to him. Then his majesty, being seated in
the queen's coach, alighted before the great portal of
 
 

214 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

the church, where there is that masterpiece of stone
which has represented there for centuries the corona-
tion of King Clovis.

The canons, in scarves of cloth of gold, received
the king on getting out of the coach, and offered him
a hassock, upon which his majesty knelt ; while Mon-
seigneur the Bishop of Soissons, clad in his pontifical
habit and preceded by his crozier, respectfully offered
holy water to him.

When once the royal procession had entered the
church, a general hush came over the multitude, and
I shall remember until my dying day the Te Dcum
which was then sung, with a complete accompani-
ment of the organ and every description of musical
instruments.

But let us pass rapidly over the details of the first
arrival of Louis XIV. at Reims, to arrive at the great
day itself that is to say, the coronation day.

On Sunday, the yth of June, I was introduced
at three o'clock in the morning, by special favour,
and in the company of the Dukes of Vendome and
Candale, into the lofty gallery of the church, whence
I could admire the marvellous spectacle of which I
shall now attempt to give the reader an idea.

The church, from roof to floor, in the choir, in the
nave, and in both aisles, was adorned with the richest
and most beautiful of the royal tapestries. The steps
of the altar and the pavement of the choir were
covered with immense Turkey carpets, and the great
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 215

altar, besides its marble inlaid with gold and antique
statues of the greatest value, was surmounted by a
coronal of the crown diamonds, and its importance
was increased by two reliquaries, one containing the
head of Saint-Louis, given by Louis XIII. at his
coronation, and the other the head of Saint-Remy ;
this was borne on a massive pedestal of gold.

At the foot of the steps of the high altar was the
throne from which the Bishop of Soissons would
officiate, and which was rendered specially remark-
able by being decorated in violet velvet embroidered
with golden fleurs-de-lis. On the other side, directly
opposite, was the dai's prepared for the king, the
ornaments of which transcended human description.

At four o'clock (for it was now already daylight)
the canons and church officials took their places in
their stalls. And now we soon saw the Bishop of
Soissons enter in his rochet and stole, wearing the
hood and the cope and his mitre, and carrying a
crozier. Behind him came the choir, with the
Bishops of Rennes, St. Paul, and of Coutances and
Agde ; they had been summoned to sing the litanies.
I recognised successively the Archbishops of Bourges
and Rouen, and the Bishops of Amiens and Senlis,
who had been chosen to chant the epistle and gospel.

About half-past five, four noblemen were despatched
from the archbishop's palace, whose mission was to
seek the Holy Ampulla at the Abbey of Saint-Remy.
During this time the six lay peers arrived from the
 
 

2l6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

palace, and took their places before the high altar.
They were the Dukes of Vendome, Elbceuf, Candale,
Rouanais, Bournonville ; they were clad in tunics of
cloth of silver on rainbow-silk, and in scarlet ducal
mantles with a violet tinge.

They took their seats according to the directions
of the master of the ceremonies : then everyone turned
towards the door, where we saw appear the Queen of
France, the Queen of England, the Dukes of York
and Gloucester, her sons, the Princess of England,
her daughter, the Princess of Conti, the Princess
Palatine, and the Duchess of Vendome.

Then my eyes lost themselves in the midst of
an inexpressible confusion of rochets, hoods, mantles
trimmed with ermine, high satin collars, robes em-
broidered with pearls, diamond necklaces, glittering
crosses, holy relics, magnificently chiselled golden
candlesticks, and great wax candles, whose flaming
wicks resembled thousands of stars.

Some one then informed me that the great deputa-
tion, charged to seek the king, was about to set forth.
I joined it with pride, and this is what took place
before my eyes.

The Bishops of Beauvais and of Chalons, preceded
by the precentor and the sub-precentor, having arrived
at the royal antechamber, halted at the door for a
moment.

After a pause which lasted for three or four seconds,
the precentor struck two blows with his silver baton.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 217

" What do you want ? "

The Bishop of Beauvais answered :

" The king."

" The king sleeps," answered the Grand Cham-
berlain.

A second time the same question and answer were
exchanged.

At last, for the third time, the bishop said, in
a solemn tone :

" We demand Louis XIV., son of that great king,
Louis XIII., whom God has given us as king."

Then the door opened and the two bishops entered.

The king awaited them upon a bed of ceremony,
lying on the right side, clad in a shirt of lawn, and
a bed-gown of red satin shaped like a tunic; over
these he wore a long robe of silver tissue. His head
was covered by a bonnet of black velvet, garnished
with a cordon of diamonds of great value, and a white
feather and a double aigrette. Thereupon, they
sprinkled him with holy water, and Monseigneur de
Beauvais addressed to him a Latin oration.

I was obliged to retire then, and I occupied
my time in hastening back to the church, so as to
witness the triumphal entry of my glorious and beloved
sovereign.

About an hour passed away.

The crowd waited in respectful silence.

At length, I heard a great roaring sound rise round
the walls of the holy building, which commenced as
 
 

2l8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

the whisperings of a distant whirlwind in northern
seas, increased by degrees and finished by a formidable
explosion, somewhat similar to that which Vesuvius
or Etna might give forth at the commencement of
an eruption. I soon learnt the meaning of this im-
mense reverberation.

The head of the procession was composed of a
vanguard of a hundred Swiss, led by their captain,
Monsieur de Monmege ; they marched to the music
of a band, composed of twelve drums and an infinite
number of trumpets, fifes, oboes, flutes, bagpipes, and
sackbuts. It executed concerted pieces with marvel-
lous accuracy.

After the Swiss guard came the heralds, clothed
in white velvet with their trunk -hose, coat-of-arms,
and heraldic wand in hand ; then came a hundred
gentlemen of the king's household carrying their
halberds ; Monsieur de Rhodes, Grand Master of
the Ceremonies of France ; then came the Marechal
d'Estrees bearing a drawn sword ; the lay peers, each
having two ushers with maces as an escort.

Last came the king.

At that august entrance, I was as though dazzled,
and it seemed to me that a ray of fierce sunshine
blinded my eyes.

Prince Eugene of Savoy carried his majesty's
train. Immediately afterwards appeared the Chan-
cellor, who had an air which was something grander
than that of simple mortals, and who wore his crimson
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 2IQ

satin cassock in a most imposing manner. His mantle
and judicial hood were scarlet, and on his head he
bore a legal bonnet of cloth of gold, trimmed with
ermine.

I will not trouble you with the other members of
the procession. Among the principal personages who
attracted my attention were the Due de Choiseul,
the Comte de Vivonne, Charost, and the Marquis
d'Humieres.

When the Veni Creator had been sung, the Holy
Ampulla was brought in front of the door of the
church. He who carried it was the Grand Prior of
the abbey of Saint-Remy. He was mounted upon a
white horse, which was led by two head-grooms of
the royal stable ; above his head was borne a canopy
of cloth of silver.

Immediately M. de Soissons perceived the arrival
of the Holy Ampulla, accompanied by the Bishops of
Amiens, Senlis, and Caesarea, he advanced to the end
of the nave, close to the great doorway.

The Prior then offered him the Holy Ampulla.

" Monseigneur," he said, " I place in your hands
this precious treasure, which was sent down from
heaven to the great saint Remy, for the consecration
of Clovis and those kings who might succeed him.
But, beforehand, I beg you, according to ancient
custom, to bind yourself to return it to my hands as
soon as the coronation of our great .king Louis XIV.
has been accomplished."
 
 

22O SECRET MEMOIRS OF

The prelate, having promised to fulfil the con-
ditions, the Holy Ampulla was immediately surren-
dered to him.

After numerous ceremonies of minor importance,
the Holy Ampulla was deposited upon the altar, and
the king, whose example was followed by everyone
present, bowed to it ceremoniously.

Some minutes afterwards the form of oath was
read to Louis XIV. ; he repeated it in a loud voice,
with his head covered and his hands upon the gospel.

I pass lightly over certain details, such as the
formality of demanding of the peers and people if
they accepted Louis as their sovereign, also the
numerous changes of dress which the king had to
go through, and of the benediction of the sword of
Charlemagne.

And now I come to the preparation of the Holy
Chrysm. After an indefinite number of orisons had
been recited and anthems had been sung, of questions
and responses made in the monotonous accent peculiar
to the church, of comings and goings, which seemed
never ending, they proceeded with the curious cere-
mony to which I alluded above.

The Bishop of Soissons returned to the altar in
order to prepare the Holy Unction.

Firstly, he placed the golden paten of Saint-Remy
upon the middle of the tabernacle, and the Grand
Prior having received from the Treasurer the silver
key of the little casket which contained the Holy
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 221

Ampulla, he opened it, and drawing forth the heavenly
gift, placed it in the hands of the Bishop of Amiens,
the officiating deacon, and took from it a portion
about the size of a grain of wheat. This he placed
upon the paten, while the nave resounded with the
religious songs of the choirs, and they did not fail in
causing profound emotion in the hearts of everyone
present.

Then the Kyrie Elison and litanies were chanted.

Then the anointments commenced.

The king was on his knees. The Bishop of
Soissons, seated and wearing his mitre, took with his
thumb the Holy Chrysm prepared from the golden
cup of Saint-Remy.

Firstly, he made the sign of the cross on the
summit of his majesty's head, saying :

" Ungo te in regent de oho sanctificato. In nomine
Patris, et Filii et Spiritus Sancti"

He repeated this formula at each of the six fol-
lowing anointings, which were made upon the
stomach, between the two shoulders, on the right
shoulder, on the left shoulder, and on the joints of
the arms. There remained yet two unctions to be
made. But to proceed to this last ceremony, which
would complete the holy consecration of royalty, the
king's costume was changed. The Bishop of Soissons,
aided by his brethren ot Senlis and Amiens, clothed
with little golden cords the openings in the shirt and
bed-gown of the king, and the Great Chamberlain
 
 

222 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

presented him with the three following garments :
the tunic, the dalmatic, and the royal mantle. The
last two anointings were at length made upon the
palms of each of the hands of Louis XIV. The
benediction of the ring and the summoning of the
peers preceded the actual coronation, which was done
with the great crown of Charlemagne, which had
been especially brought from Saint - Denis for this
august solemnity.

It is impossible to form an idea of the delight and
pride felt by all the spectators at the sight of the
king wearing his crown.

It seemed that France, there represented by her
noblest and most famous men, was seized with a
movement of pride in beholding herself honoured
and renowned in the person of her worthiest
representative.

Louis XIV. was then conducted to the throne
which had been prepared beneath the rude loft, and
the Bishop of Soissons, having kissed him, declaimed
in a loud voice, which was heard throughout the
assembly : " Vivat Rex in atcrnum ! " Then burst
forth an uproar from every side which was indescrib-
able. The fifes, the trumpets, the oboes, blended
with the thunderous acclamations of the people, filled
the whole city with the cry of Vive le roil Pieces
of money, struck for the occasion of the ceremony
of the coronation, were distributed with a truly royal
profusion; and the king's fowlers set free from the
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 223

rude loft in the church an innumerable quantity of
little birds, who rose in a great cloud towards the
dome, warbling and fluttering their wings.

At length the successive celebration of mass, of
ceremony of offering and of the communion took
place.

Afterwards the king returned to the palace.

That evening there was the grand entertainment
given by the gentlemen of the town of Reims. As I
was not a member of his majesty's official court, I
was not invited, but the intrigues of M. de Saint-
Simon could not prevent my being admitted to the
reception and kissing of hands which followed the
dinner itself.

On the following day the town of Reims enjoyed
one of the rarest spectacles that could please mortal
eye. The weather was lovely, and the opportunity
was seized for organising in a magnificent manner
what is termed the cavalcade to Saint-Remy. This is
ordinarily a grand ceremonial visit which takes place
after a coronation, in which the new king beseeches
of the great saint, the protector of France, the con-
tinuation of his goodwill and of his benedictions.
Never have I seen so rich and brilliant a sight as
that cavalcade.

One noticed at the head of the procession a com-
pany of light horse. The Grand Provost followed
with his lieutenant and sixty archers of the Provost's
guard. An infinite number of noblemen increased the
 
 

224 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

procession and made it the most gorgeous and dis-
tinguished in the world. But not one amongst all
these seigneurs of the best and purest nobility of
France could be possibly compared with the king,
who wore a dress of cloth of silver, cut in the antique
fashion, a hood embroidered with silver, a bonnet of
black velvet decorated with an aigrette ; he rode, as
though he had been the finest horseman upon earth,
a white hackney, which carried its head in a warlike
but gentle manner. This procession of Louis XIV.
through the town was the cause of great joy among
the populace, and his majesty had the satisfaction,
during the whole of his progress, of being accom-
panied by the perfervid and endless acclamations of
a people who saw in him their consolation, their hope
and their idol.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 225
 
 

CHAPTER XXXVI

I remain several days at Reims after the king's departure An
unexpected meeting A reminiscence of twenty years back
The recognition Inopportune reflections and blamable
regrets with which the sight of two pretty children inspire
me A simple transition.

THE reader will perhaps remember a certain
meeting that took place near the village of Donchery,
a short time after I had been wounded at the fight
of La Marfee. A coach rushing at full speed on the
road from Mezieres to Sedan had attracted my atten-
tion ; the attitude of the postillion, the headlong
speed, all these circumstances had seemed to me
suspicious enough to inspire me with the desire to
know what it was all about. I planted myself firmly
in the middle of the road, at the risk of being knocked
down by the brutal Automedon, and my air of authority
had been enough to make him stop, and caused him
to give me, after a trifling gratuity, certain explana-
tions. . . .

The carriage was carrying off a young and very

pretty girl, very fresh, and, above all, very innocent.

She had been delighted to find a protector in me, and

I truly had had the luck to rescue her from a real

VOL. in 15
 
 

226 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

danger. After having taken her to an inn to obtain
from her the real truth of the matter, I found that
she had been treacherously put to sleep by means
of a powerful narcotic. The reader will without doubt
remember that I asked the innkeeper to go in
search of a physician who should treat my charming
invalid, and that I received a visit from a sort of
jackass, who disguised himself under the name of
Mathielmus, and who pretended only to care to
undertake the treatment of persons of quality, a
passably ridiculous pretension, to which I uncere-
moniously replied by a kick to the illustrious savants
seat of honour.

During this discussion, my unknown told me her
name was Fanfette, and begged me to conduct her
to Reims, where she had an aunt who loved her
tenderly.

I obeyed, and after a short journey, on which I
showed her, very nearly, all the respect due from
a brother to his sister, I left her at Reims, taking
away with me the satisfaction of having done a good
action, as well as the hope of soon being recompensed.

Alas ! I had written this word under the influence
of the delightful thoughts which rilled my soul. At
that moment, while my hand was still warm with
the pressure of Fanfette's, and my soul was full of
her image, it seemed to me as if we must soon meet
again. Soon means a long time, sometimes, for
twenty years had passed since I escorted Fanfette
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 227

to Reims, where the king's coronation had brought
me once more. The coronation ceremony was at
last over, and his majesty had already left the place,
when one morning, as I was walking in the en-
virons of the town, I was struck with the appear-
ance of a lady about five or six and thirty, who
was leading two children who were as beautiful as
the day. I was excited by her distracting waist, her
fresh little figure, above all by a pair of eyes which
blazed with all the fire of youth. I looked at the
lady several several times.

I was to a certain extent astonished, when I
noticed that my ogles were returned, and that she
blushed.

I approached. . . .

She stopped.

" Fanfette ! " I cried, as though the name had been
forced from my breast by a supreme effort of will.

" M. de Roquelaure ! " she replied, fired without
doubt by her remembrance of me.

" We must agree," said I, as I approached her..
" that this is either sorcery or the intervention of
Heaven. We meet, after twenty years of separation,
as if we had parted but yesterday. 'Tis indeed a
prodigy."

" No," replied she, " the thing is simple enough ;
you were good to me, and it is not my memory, but
my heart, M. de Roquelaure, which has retained the
remembrance of you."

152
 
 

228 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" You are adorable," cried I, passionately seizing
and kissing the hand which she offered me. " But
shall I be as unhappy to-day as on the evening of
our short interview ? Have you nothing to tell me
about yourself ? For, after all, I know nothing about
you, your feelings, or even your mode of life. . . .
That is to say," I added, looking at the two children
with admiration mixed with sadness, " I can see you
are a mother, and that consequently you have ren-
dered one man happy."

" I did but pay a debt," replied Fanfette, whose
brow was now shaded with a trace of melancholy,
" and if you will consent to accompany me to that
garden, whose walls and trees we can see from here,
I will tell you in a few words my whole life's history."

" In a few words," replied I with a smile, " I can
well believe you. The life of an accomplished woman
like you can be summed up in two syllables, ' loving.' "

" You deceive yourself, M. de Roquelaure, and
you had better say, ' sacrifice.' "

Tears fell from Fanfette's eyes. I followed her.
We arrived at the garden ; she opened the little
wicket and we penetrated into a sort of fragrant
Eden, where one breathed delicious odours.

" Where are we ? " I asked her as we entered.

"At the Countess Amelie-Laure de Flegeres'."

" Is she one of your friends ? "

" You shall know shortly."

She conducted me under an alley of lime-trees to
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 22Q

a shady thicket, where there was a seat of turf ; by a
sign she ordered me to sit beside her. I obeyed. The
two children, who were as beautiful as cherubs, raced
away towards the tiny lawn a hundred paces off,
covered with buttercups and daisies.

Profiting by the presence of a stranger, who was
sure to distract for a while their mother's watchful-
ness, the two charming children hastened to enjoy the
liberty which we permitted. Soon we saw them in
the distance, rolling on the grass or gambolling among
the flowers.

Perhaps you can understand that the sight of
these two children annoyed and tormented me, and
caused my blood to boil. I looked from the two
beautiful little angels to Fanfette, and then, I could
not help it, I thought of those white shoulders which
I had so much admired, of that supple body which I
had held in my arms, of that brow of snow which I
had warmed with my breath, of those coral lips which
I had kissed with mine, and I thought with bitterness
that, notwithstanding all my art, all my cleverness, I
had but secured problematic delights similar to those
permitted to the unhappy Tantalus. Thus, then, I
had allowed this treasure to escape me but to abandon
her to someone else ! Thus I had but smelt the
flower which another, coming after me, had gathered
and worn !

But all these regrets, all these suspicions, would
have been an insult to Fanfette.
 
 

230 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

I was careful not to breathe a word of them.

I contented myself with admiring, sighing, and
regretting in silence. Her sweet confidence recom-
pensed me a little. With a gesture I signified my
impatience.

Then Fanfette, looking round her to be sure that
no indiscreet ear could catch her words, commenced
as follows.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 23!
 
 

CHAPTER XXXVII

Fanfette's history Her stay with Madame du Hainault A
silent love The Count de Flegeres 1 window A portrait
of that gentleman A strange declaration Retirement into
an Ursuline convent at Mezieres The postchaise The
box of lozenges The abduction A remembrance of how
I met Fanfette on the road from Mezieres to Sedan
Thierret, the Count de Flegeres' valct-de-chambrc Fanfette's
return to Reims She believes herself delivered from her
persecutor Her love for the Baron de Lutz Her marriage
is decided on Preparations The Count de Flegeres ap-
pears once more The love-letter Strange language for a
lover A five weeks' truce The wedding presents The
marvellous bouquet The day before the wedding Fanfette
retires for the night.

"ABOUT a year before we met on the Sedan
road, M. de Roquelaure, I dwelt in the house of
an aunt, who was as a mother to me, in one of
the most retired quarters in the town of Reims. I
was fifteen years of age, people said I was pretty,
and my aunt, Madame du Hainault, a venerable
woman, sixty years of age, watched over me with
a tender vigilance, such as only maternal affection
can inspire.

" In the same street, and nearly opposite our
house, lived a man of about six-and-thirty years
 
 

232 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

of age, but he had no longer that air of youth and
vigour by which that period of life is ordinarily
distinguished ; as he sat alone at his window his
eyes were continually fixed on mine. He would
pass the entire day in watching for the moment
when I should leave the house, and then he used
to come forth and follow me at the distance
of a few paces. On the first few occasions I paid
very little attention to him. But soon his persistence
wearied me, and I grew to dislike him so, that I
dared not come to my window, and I kept my case-
ment almost always closed.

"At the end of a six months' continual struggle
between this man and me, who did not wish to be
seen, he took a more sensible mode of making our
acquaintance ; he caused himself to be presented to
my aunt by a neighbour, and, without beating about
the bush, asked for my hand in marriage.

" Madame du Hainault knew how I had been
annoyed by the mute assiduities of the Count de
Flegeres (for such was his name) ; therefore she
did not receive his proposal without a certain amount
of dislike. She raised a thousand objections, each
more plausible than before, but the strongest one
she did not dare to allege, was that I thoroughly
disliked him and that I had resolved, being inde-
pendent in fortune and position, never to give my
heart but to a man whose tastes sympathised entirely
with mine.
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 233

" The Count de Flegeres was born of a German
mother, his father being a nobleman of Champagne,
had neither a German appearance nor a French
character. He was a very Englishman for phlegm,
which showed itself on his person and his peculiar
disposition for sombre and melancholy ideas. He
heard, with the greatest tranquillity, all my aunt's
objections ; he did not dispute them, but appeared
to accept the greater part of her theories and to
be ready to take his dismissal. But no sooner had
she finished speaking than he answered with a calm
firmness, that made my aunt tremble:

" ' Madame, you have a perfect right to refuse
me your niece's hand. Your niece is, of course, at
perfect liberty to marry another man. But, should
she do so, I consider it my duty, as an honest
man, that I shall kill myself . . . unless I should
manage to think of some good way of curing myself
of the passion which I feel for your niece, a passion
which will assuredly cause me to commit an impru-
dence, a folly, or a crime.'

" My aunt, as you can well fancy, listened to
the count with profound stupefaction. After which
she perceived that his eye began to wander and that
he never even dreamed of taking his leave, two
peculiarities which caused her to make up her mind
to dismiss him, and to forbid him the house, in case
he should make his appearance a second time. The
count took his leave, without seeming to be aware of
 
 

234 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

the nature of his reception, and as little upset as if he
were still in a position to hope for success.

" He called again indeed on the next and following
days. The object of his visit remained the same. My
aunt's answer never varied. Only towards the fif-
teenth or sixteenth visit she began to see that M. de
Flegeres, though outwardly calm, was really con-
siderably excited.

" Madame du Hainault warned me. I was sorry
for the count, but had no other feeling for him than
one of pity. A week passed without our seeing any-
thing of him. We thought that he had given up his
useless pursuit of me.

" But one day, when I was walking alone in a
little courtyard attached to my aunt's house, I saw
M. de Flegeres coming towards me ; he was pale and
his eyes sparkled, his appearance frightened me, I
tried to fly, I called for help, but he held me by the
arm, telling me that Madame du Hainault was gone
out, and that my cries could not be heard. I was
frozen with terror, I could hardly speak. All that
I could do was to ask him what he expected from
me. Then, he made me the maddest declaration
that any woman ever listened to in her life. His
voice trembled so, that you could have sworn that
he was suffering from ague, and I can remember that
his hands, which never ceased pressing mine, for I
was unable to prevent it, passed from the most
burning heat to an icy coldness. He did not in
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 235

this interview exceed the strict bounds imposed by
respect. But his love expressed itself in such savage
terms, his tenderness made itself perceptible by such
violent protestations, that I very nearly fainted away
with fear, and my dread prevented my repulsing him
as I had fully intended.

" Happily, Madame du Hainault arrived. Her
appearance put an end to a scene which I had begun
to find much too long, and M. de Flegeres left us both
a prey to an agitation from which we had some
difficulty in recovering."

" The torture to which I was subjected for an
entire hour had left such an unpleasant recollection,
that I feared the renewal of a similar scene. My
aunt herself dreaded the persecutions of this man,
who was like a lunatic, and whose love showed itself
in such strange and abrupt fashions. I was easily
frightened. Each time that I thought that I heard
the sound of a voice or footsteps of the count, I was
seized with a trembling which caused my blood to run
cold and well-nigh stopped my respiration. It was
this perpetual danger that it now became urgent to
fight against or get rid of by hook or by crook.
Madame du Hainault had an excellent friend at
Mezieres, who was the superior of an Ursuline con-
vent. We decided that I should pass some time
there, and that I should leave at night in order that
no one should know whither I was being taken.

" I remained in peace for about three months. I
 
 

236 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

regularly received news of my aunt and corresponded
with her continually. One of her last letters had con-
siderably reassured me as to the Count de Flegeres.
He had started, she said, on a long journey, and she
expressed the intention to soon come herself to con-
duct me back to Reims, where her loneliness had
rendered life almost insupportable. I was expecting
her arrival, when one evening a man, whom they
assured me came from Madame du Hainault, asked
for me in the parlour of the convent. I went down
to him. He was a sort of coachman, wearing a great
coat of rough grey cloth ; his honest air predisposed
me at once in his favour. He told me that he was
a man from Reims, and that my aunt had been
taken so seriously ill, that she desired to have me
with her immediately, that he had an excellent
carriage, and that he had ascertained that there was
no lack of post-horses at the various stages. The
man talked with such simplicity, that it was im-
possible to feel any suspicion of him. The fact of
my aunt's indisposition was more than likely, and I
knew enough of her to be sure that in case of illness
she would send for me at once. I consulted the
lady superior. She thought as I did, and I hastened
to set out. At the moment I got into the carriage
a last incident thoroughly reassured me. My postil-
lion handed me a little box, which contained a peculiar
kind of lozenge much affected by my aunt, which she
was in the habit of ealing at all hours of the day
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 237

and of offering to all her acquaintances. My aunt
alone could have paid me this little attention.

" The carriage set off at a slow pace. Night had
fallen, so that I could hardly distinguish objects at
the roadside. Still, it seemed to me that I did not
altogether recognise the road by which I had come
from Reims, particularly at a certain distance from
the town, where I had noticed a magnificent mansion
on my right ; and now, seeing nothing whatever on
my left, I yielded to a sudden fear, and cried aloud to
my postillion. Then, without stopping, but merely
turning the apron of the chaise, he begged me to
pardon him, protesting that he wished me no harm,
and that a certain Baron de Hohenstauff, a most
venerable personage, expected me at Sedan, that he
had white hair and wore a superb diamond cross upon
his breast and a great scar upon his forehead, that it
was impossible not to recognise in him at once a
retired general of the Emperor of Germany. At this
portrait I trembled, for I knew that the Count de
Flegeres had in his service an old servitor who
answered this description accurately, and certainly
had an enormous scar on the face, the history of
which was unknown. I suspected that there was a
snare, a deception or a trick, and I began to scream
with all my might."

At this part of Fanfette's story I could not restrain
a slight movement.

" I see that my remembrances affect you," she
 
 

238 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

said, squeezing my hand, " for it was just at this
moment that I had the happiness to find you upon
the road. There is no need to recall to your mind
what passed. To you I owe my rescue from the
attempts of my ravisher and my escape from one of
the greatest perils which could menace a young girl.
Having thus returned, I rejoined my aunt, who was
in robust health and surprised at my return. I told
her what had happened in minute detail, and she
shuddered at the very thought of the abyss into
which I had almost fallen.

" In looking back on it, it is easy to see the
mysterious hand of the Count de Flegeres in the
comedy which was enacted for my destruction. As
for the pretended Baron de Hohenstauff, it was plain
enough that Thierret, the old steward of the count,
who had a detestable reputation, and who became
a valet after being originally a druggist, had been
frequently under suspicion of having secretly sold
certain chemical compositions the use of which is
illegal; this is the man who played the part of the
baron. He was, without doubt, dressed for the
part in order to inspire confidence in the officious
intermediary who was the principal actor in my
abduction.

" You can well conceive, M. de Roquelaure, that
there was no longer any question of sending me back
to Mezieres. The experiment at the Ursuline convent
had not been a success. My aunt resolved for the
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 239

second time to keep me with her at Reims. At this
time our house seemed to have regained its tran-
quillity, for there was no further sign of M. de
Flegeres. We neither saw any more of him nor of
the old man Thierret, the confidant, or rather the
accomplice, in all his wicked deeds. Soon the
emotions which I attempted to depict for you were
well-nigh forgotten.

" And it was then," continued Fanfette, with a
gentle sigh, raising her expressive eyes towards
heaven, " it was then that divine goodness permitted
me to enjoy, if not happiness itself, at least its shadow.
I gave my heart and my entire affection to the young
Baron de Lutz, whom I frequently met at various
festivities in the town of Reims. During the winter
which followed my return from the convent, he loved
me ardently, and I can confess to you, you who are
my friend, for it is so, is it not ? that my tenderness
equalled his. My aunt, after consulting me, accepted
the offer he made for my hand, and the date of our
marriage was fixed for the early part of August, 1644.
We were at the end of June, but only six weeks
separated us from the moment of our happiness,
when an event which came upon me like a thunder-
bolt, suddenly sowed in my heart the seed of the most
lively and cruel inquietudes.

" While walking in the Place with my 'aunt, I
suddenly found myself face to face with the Count de
Flegeres.
 
 

240 SECRET MEMOIRS OF

" I trembled from head to foot, I was ready to
sink into the ground.

" ' You do hate me very much, eh ? ' he whispered
in my ear.

" ' No, Count,' I replied, ' I do not hate you, be-
cause I know not what it is to hate.'

" ' Then why not love me ? ' . . .

" ' Because I love another, Count.'

" I appeared so upset, that he immediately offered
me his arm, and my aunt had not the courage to
make any opposition. He reconducted us thus to our
own door, and having vainly waited for us to invite
him to enter, bade us adieu with cold politeness.
Once back in my own little room, I thought of M. de
Lutz in order to dispel the sombre preoccupations
which had filled my mind as soon as I found myself
in the arms of the Count de Flegeres. Mechanically
I opened my window; there he was at his window
exactly opposite me. I lowered my curtain and re-
tired into a corner. It seemed that some evil was
menacing me. Happily, the Baron de Lutz arrived
that evening as usual. We enjoyed ourselves, and I
retired to bed at midnight, feeling happier than I had
felt all day.

" The first thing that struck me on entering my
room was a little piece of paper attached to a stone.
I picked it up, less with the idea of reading it than in
order to prevent it falling into doubtful hands. My
first idea was to burn it in the flame of .my lamp,
 
 

THE DUG DE ROQUELAURE 24!

but curiosity overcame me. I undid the stone, which
I had flung on to the hearth, and read the letter,
whose terms, notwithstanding the years that had
rolled by, have ever remained in my memory :

" MADEMOISELLE, There are certain things which are
written both in heaven and in hell. Had you willed it so,
I should have been both kind and happy. You have chosen
to treat me cruelly ; I shall be bad and cruel, and this does
not mean that I shall resign myself to be unhappy. For,
do not fail to understand this, in spite of your aunt, who
hates me, in spite of you who repulse me, in spite of him
whom you love, in spite of heaven, in spite of hell, in spite
of everything, you must, you shall be mine !