Orrain - Part 33
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Part 33

"'Well, Le Brusquet, have you lost your ape, or has some jest failed you?--you look so sad."

"'Neither, madame,' I answered; 'but I have lost my heart.'

"'Tell me,' she said, 'who is it? Is it La Beauce?--or, perhaps, Madame de Montal?'

"'Neither, madame; it has strayed much higher.'

"She laughed at my speech, and was about to reply, but stopped, for at that moment the curtain lifted, and the King entered the room. He seemed in the best of spirits; nothing affects him for long.

"'_Bon jour_, Le Brusquet!' He gave me his hand to kiss. 'What news have you brought me this morning?'

"'A bagful, sire, for I supped with Crequy over-night.'

"'Then you shall open the bag whilst I breakfast, for I am famished.'

And, slipping his arm through Diane's he led her to the table. I settled myself on a stool near the window, whilst Diane gave his soup to the King, contenting herself with some fruit, which she picked at like a bird. Through the heavy curtains and the closed door we could hear the hum of voices from the anterooms coming to us like the distant murmurs of the sea. For some little time the King ate in silence, whilst Diane and I exchanged a few laughing words. Finally he finished his last sippet of bread steeped in soup, pushed aside his plate, helped himself to a plum, and looked around him.

"'How!' he exclaimed. 'No roses in the room this morning!'

"'You are in error, sire,' I said. 'I have never seen finer roses than I do now.'

"'Where?' he asked, looking around.

"But I only looked at La Valentinois, and this time she was red enough.

She can blush at will, I believe. Strange that behind so fair a face lies so twisted a soul! And as the King followed my glance the blush on her cheek became deeper and deeper.

"'_Ma pet.i.te_,' and he pinched her ear, 'I find I have a rival. I shall have to send him to the Chatelet.' Whereat every one laughed, and Pompon, hearing the sounds, hopped in through the window, and helped himself to another plum.

"'Ah, bandit!' And the King flung a sippet of toast after him as he added: 'I am hedged in with robbers.'

"'That is true, sire,' I said gravely.

"'You heard that at Crequy's last night.' And there was a sharp note in Diane's voice.

"'Oh yes; and much worse.'

"'Come, tell us!' said the King.

"'Sire, you will remember that Monsieur Joue and Monsieur d'Arbois are inveterate gossips.'

"'I will not forget. Well, what did these gentlemen say?'

"'Amongst other things, that your Majesty would totally cancel the edicts you have suspended, and freely pardon all the Christaudins.'

"I had risked my shot, and now awaited the result. It had hit its mark, I knew, for the King began to hum and haw, and Diane gave me a look from those blue-black eyes of hers. It is wonderful how their expression can change. They seemed to grow small, with a hard, pitiless look in them, and little cobwebs of wrinkles gathered near her temples.

"'It would be madness!--folly!' And her foot kept tapping the carpet.

"'Caraffa and Lorraine are right; it would be a sin.' And the King crossed himself. 'No, no! I will purge the land of its heresy. You have proved their disloyalty to me, Diane. Scarce three weeks have pa.s.sed since the edicts were suspended, and see what head these Huguenots make! But I will let them see that I am King!'

"And Diane bent forward and kissed his cheek.

"As for me, I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, and so, for the present, went warily, and kept silence. And then La Valentinois knelt by the side of the King, holding his hand in hers, and looking into his eyes.

"'Sire,' she said, 'I have a boon to ask.'

"'Ask, then.' And Henri pushed aside the curls from her forehead.

"'It is that you reward the faithful whilst you punish the guilty.'

"'Let it be as you wish, _ma pet.i.te_.'

"'Then sign this, sire.' And, rising to her feet, she took a paper from her dress and held it before the King, standing beside him, with one white arm round his neck.

"Henri read, and his face fell a little. 'So,' he said, 'you want the goods of all heretics condemned in Paris granted to our most faithful subjects--Diane, d.u.c.h.ess de Valentinois; Simon, Vidame d'Orrain; and Antoine, Sire de Mouchy, Inquisitor of Faith! Madame, this is a matter for the council.' And, in his weak way, the King tried to put off the matter.

"Diane removed her arm from his neck. 'As you please, sire,' she said coldly; and then: 'But remember the Chatillons are making head in the north, and tomorrow they may break the peace with Spain. Remember how full Paris is of these traitors to their King and Holy Church! Never mind my request; but, sire,' and her voice sank to the tenderest note, 'think of those who love you and fear for you--and--let the council to-day be firm.'

"'Oh, it will be that. I will see to that.'

"'Thank Heaven! And now, my King, my King! for the last time!' And she knelt and kissed his hand, and there were tears--tears, Orrain!--in her eyes.

"Henri was much moved. 'What does this mean, Diane?' And he raised her gently to her feet.

"'It means, sire'--her eyes refused to meet his, and her voice shook--'that the time has come for me to go. To-morrow I leave Paris; but, wherever I go, my sorrow will be with me, and my memory of----'

And once more she kissed his hand.

"'Diane!'

"She made no answer except to sob, and he put his arm round her, and tried to comfort her, but she gently withdrew herself.

"'Sire, let me go! I had forgotten that with a woman love lasts for ever, but beauty fades. I have to-day learned my lesson.' And, sitting herself down, she buried her face in her hands.

"Henri looked helplessly around, and then, rising hurriedly, paced the room. Once he came up to me, where I stood near the window, and stared at me, or rather stared across me, as though he did not see me. He was yielding, I knew, and another sob from Diane broke him.

"He took up the paper, and it rustled in his trembling hand. One more glance at the bowed figure beside him, and he called out:

"'Le Brusquet, give me a pen.'

"I made no answer, but stood as if I had not heard. I swear to you, Orrain, that I would rather have let my right hand wither than do his bidding. Twice he repeated his order; but I stood like a stone. Diane made no movement. His face flushed, and with a sudden effort he walked towards a cabinet, and the next moment the accursed paper was signed.

He brought it back with him, and stood humbly beside Diane, but she did not appear to see. At last he took her hands from her face and placed the deed within them.

"'There, little one! Speak no more of broken hearts.' And he kissed her. She rose, and let her head fall on his shoulder, standing there with closed eyes, but with fingers that held the paper with a clutch like the talons of a hawk. After a little she drew back; there was a lovely smile on her lips, and the blue-black eyes were sparkling.

"'Sire,' she said, 'I thank you.' Then, with a glance behind her at the curtains that covered the door leading to the ante-rooms: 'It grows late, and messieurs there are waiting.' So saying, she bowed low to the King, and ran from the room into the inner apartments, carrying her paper with her.

"The King stood gazing after her, and I stood leaning out of the open window. After a little he came up behind me, and with studied unconcern in his voice said:

"'An obol for your thoughts, King of Folly.'