"It would be my pleasure, Lieutenant. A century and a half ago, a comte de Guise distinguished himself so well in battle that the King created him duc de Guise. Of his aides, squires, lackeys, mistresses, captains, and hangers-on, several were of the de Crepy line. Some of these developed a taste for adventure, and began to conceive ambitions beyond the parochial. They lashed themselves to the mast, as it were, of the House of Guise, which seemed like a good idea, and served them well. Until, that is, a hundred and one years ago, when the two leading men of that House-Henry, duc de Guise, and Louis, cardinal de Guise-were a.s.sa.s.sinated by the King or his supporters. For they had waxed more powerful than the King himself."

There was a pause now to look at some rather sanguinary art-work.

"How could such a thing happen, monsieur? How could this rival House become so powerful?"

"Nowadays, when le Roi le Roi is so strong, it is difficult for us to conceive of, is it not? It may help you to know that much of the power that so appalled the King was rooted in a thing called the Holy Catholic League. It had its beginnings in towns and cities all over France, where local priests and gentlemen had, in the wake of the Reformation, found themselves engulfed in Huguenots, and so banded together to defend their faith from that heresy and to oppose its spread." is so strong, it is difficult for us to conceive of, is it not? It may help you to know that much of the power that so appalled the King was rooted in a thing called the Holy Catholic League. It had its beginnings in towns and cities all over France, where local priests and gentlemen had, in the wake of the Reformation, found themselves engulfed in Huguenots, and so banded together to defend their faith from that heresy and to oppose its spread."

"Ah, here is where the de Gex family enters the picture, no?"

"I am almost to that part of the story. You are correct that the de Gexes were typical of the sorts of men who in those days founded local chapters of the Holy Catholic League. The House of Guise had forged these scattered groups into a national movement. After the a.s.sa.s.sinations of Henry and Louis de Guise, the decapitated League rose up in revolt against the King-who was himself a.s.sa.s.sinated not long after-and there was chaos throughout the country for a number of years. The new Huguenot King, Henry IV, converted to Catholicism and re-established control, generally at the expense of the ultra-Catholics and to the benefit of the Huguenots. Or so it seemed to many fervent Catholics, including the one who a.s.sa.s.sinated him in 1610. Now, during this time the fortunes of the de Crepy family went into eclipse. Some were killed, some went back to their ancestral lands in northern France and melted back into bourgeois obscurity, some scattered abroad. But a few of them ended up far from home, in that part of France that borders on Lake Geneva. It was the best, or the worst, place for Catholic warriors to be at the time. They were directly across the lake from Geneva, which to them was like an ant's nest from which Huguenots continually streamed out to preach and convert in every parish in France. Accordingly, the Catholics in that area were more ardent than anywhere else-the first to create local branches of the Holy Catholic League, the first to swear fealty to the House of Guise, and, after the a.s.sa.s.sinations, the most warlike. They had not a.s.sa.s.sinated Henry IV, but only because they could not find him. The leading n.o.bleman of that district-one Louis, sieur de Gex-had gathered around him a small, ragged, but ferocious coterie of like-minded sorts who had been driven out of other pays, pays, and gravitated to this remote outpost from all over France as the fortunes of their party had declined." and gravitated to this remote outpost from all over France as the fortunes of their party had declined."

"Among them, I'm quite sure, must have been several of the de Crepy clan."

"Indeed. So your question of how they got from here, to there," said Rossignol, indicating the two landscapes, "is answered. The newcomers were fertile and affluent where the family de Gex were dwindling and poor."

"I suppose most of the people in their district who knew how to make money had become Huguenots," mused Bart.

This drew from Rossignol a sharp look, and a reprimand. "Lieutenant Bart. I believe I understand, now, why Mademoiselle la comtesse de la Zeur sees a need to instruct you in how to be politic. politic."

Bart shrugged. "It is true, monsieur. All the best merchants of Dunkerque were Huguenots, and after 1685-"

"It is precisely because it is true, that you must not come out and state state it," said Rossignol. it," said Rossignol.

"Very well then, monsieur, I vow not to say anything true for the remainder of this conversation. Pray continue!"

After a moment to collect himself, Rossignol stepped over to a stack of portraits leaning against a wall, and began to paw through them: men, women, children, and families, dressed in the fashions of three generations ago. "When the Wars of Religion finally came to an end, both families, having nothing else to do, began to produce children. A generation later, these began to marry each other. Here I may get some of the details wrong, but if memory serves, this is how it went: the scion of the de Gex line, Francis, married one Marguerite Diane de Crepy around 1640 and they had several children one after the other, then none for twelve years, then a surprise pregnancy. This ended in the death of Marguerite only a few hours following the birth of a boy, edouard. The father construed the former as a sacrifice to, the latter as a gift from, the Almighty; and considering himself too old to raise a boy by himself, gave him to a Jesuit school in Lyon where he was found to be a sort of child prodigy. He joined the Society of Jesus at an exceptionally young age. He is now Confessor to de Maintenon herself."

Rossignol had found a portrait of a lean young man, dressed in a Jesuit's robes, glaring out of the canvas in a way that suggested he could actually see Rossignol and Bart standing in this back-hallway, and did not approve much of either one of them.

"I have heard of him," said Bart, and edged out of the portrait's sight-line.

Rossignol found an older portrait of a plump woman in a blue dress. "The sister of Francis de Gex was named Louise Anne. She married one Alexandre Louis de Crepy. They had two boys, who died at the same time from smallpox, and two girls, who survived it." He pulled out of the stack a gouache of two post-p.u.b.escent girls: one older, bigger, more beautiful than the other, who peered over her shoulder, as if hiding behind her. "The older of the girls, Anne-Marie, who was unscarred by the disease, married the comte d'Oyonnax, who was much older. Anne-Marie was his second or third wife. This fellow Oyonnax had originally been a petty n.o.ble, but even that modest rank had stretched his wits and his wealth thin. His ancestral lands lay just at the doorstep of the Franche-Comte."

"Even I have heard of that!"

"Really, Lieutenant? I am surprised, for it is landlocked."

Rossignol's jest almost went by Bart, for Rossignol was not, by and large, a fount of clever bon mots. bon mots. But Bart caught it after a few awkward moments, and acknowledged it with a smile and a nod. "It is a part of the world over which the Kings of France have been fighting with the Hapsburgs for a long time, is it not-like two enemies trapped in a longboat together and struggling for the possession of the one dagger." But Bart caught it after a few awkward moments, and acknowledged it with a smile and a nod. "It is a part of the world over which the Kings of France have been fighting with the Hapsburgs for a long time, is it not-like two enemies trapped in a longboat together and struggling for the possession of the one dagger."

"The a.n.a.logy, though nautical, is apt," said Rossignol. "During the reign of Louis XIII-whom it was my father's great honor to serve as Royal crypta.n.a.lyst-Oyonnax had allowed the King's armies to use his land as a base for invading the Franche-Comte, which they did frequently. In exchange for which he had been elevated to a Count. Such was his rank when he married the young Anne-Marie de Crepy. A few years after, he performed a like service for the legions of Louis XIV, which, since it led to the annexation of the whole of the Franche-Comte to France, caused the King to elevate him to a Duke. He and the new d.u.c.h.ess moved to Versailles, where he got to enjoy his new status for only a few months before she poisoned him."

"Monsieur! And you accuse me me of not being politic!" of not being politic!"

Rossignol shrugged. "It is a harsh thing to say, I know, but it is true; everyone was doing it in those days-or at least all of the Satan-worshippers."

"Now I think you are only pulling my leg."

"You may believe me, or not," said Rossignol. "Sometimes I cannot believe it myself. Such behavior has all been suppressed by de Maintenon, with the help of Father edouard de Gex-who probably has no idea that his cousine cousine was one of the ringleaders." was one of the ringleaders."

"That is quite enough of such topics! What about the younger daughter?"

"Charlotte Adelaide de Crepy was scarred by the smallpox, though she goes to great lengths to hide it with wigs, patches, and so forth. Marrying her off was more of a challenge; but that of course makes it a more interesting story."

"Good! Let's have it, then! For it seems that Monsieur le comte and Mademoiselle la comtesse will never finish."

"You have obviously heard of the de Lavardacs. You may know that they are a sort of cadet branch of the Bourbons. If you have had the misfortune of seeing any of their portraits you will have guessed that they have undergone quite a bit of Hapsburg adulteration over the centuries. You see, many of their lands are in the south, and they make tactical marriages across the Pyrenees. Through all of the troubles with the Guises, they were stolidly loyal to the Bourbons."

"They switched religion whenever the King did, then!" exclaimed Lieutenant Bart, trying to muster a small witticism of his own. But it only drew a glare from Rossignol.

"To the de Lavardacs it is not such an amusing topic, for they suffered diverse a.s.sa.s.sinations and other reversals. As you know far better than I, they have developed a family a.s.sociation with the French Navy, which is pa.s.sed on from father to son by survivance. survivance. The current Duke, Louis-Francois de Lavardac, duc d'Arcachon, like his father before him, is Grand Admiral of France. He held that position during the time that Colbert expanded the French Navy from a tiny flotilla of worm-eaten relics to the immense force it is today." The current Duke, Louis-Francois de Lavardac, duc d'Arcachon, like his father before him, is Grand Admiral of France. He held that position during the time that Colbert expanded the French Navy from a tiny flotilla of worm-eaten relics to the immense force it is today."

"Seven score Ships of the Line," Bart proclaimed, "and G.o.d knows how many frigates and galleys."

"The Duke profited commensurately, both in material wealth and in influence. His son and heir is, of course, etienne de Lavardac d'Arcachon."

It was not necessary for Rossignol to add what Bart, along with everyone else, already believed: He is the one who got Eliza pregnant. He is the one who got Eliza pregnant.

"I have only seen etienne from a distance," said Bart, "but I gather he is a good bit younger than his half-brother." He gestured to a recent painting that depicted the owners of this house, the marquis and the marquise d'Ozoir.

"The Duke was but a stripling when he begat this fellow off a woman in the household. Her surname was Eauze. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was raised under the name of Claude Eauze. He went off to India for a while to seek his fortune, and later made enough money in the slave trade that he was able-with a loan from his father-to buy a n.o.ble t.i.tle in 1674 when they went on sale to finance the Dutch war. Thus he became the Marquis d'Ozoir, which I take to be a play on words, as his name, to that point, had been Eauze. Only a year before buying this t.i.tle, he married none other than Charlotte Adelaide de Crepy: the younger sister of the d.u.c.h.esse d'Oyonnax."

"You'd think he could have found someone of higher rank," said Bart.

"By all means!" said Rossignol. "But there is something at work you have forgotten to take into account."

"And what is that, monsieur?"

"He actually loves her."

"Mon Dieu, I had no idea!" I had no idea!"

"Or, barring that, he knows that they form an effective and stable partnership, and is too cunning to do anything that might queer it. They have a daughter. Our friend tutored her for a while, last year."

"That must have been before the King woke up one morning and remembered that she was a countess."

"Let us hope," Rossignol, "that she will still still be one, when d'Avaux is finished." be one, when d'Avaux is finished."

"IT IS A PITY," Eliza began, "that Irishmen broke into your house, and stole your papers and sold them on the open market. What an embarra.s.sment it must be for you that everyone knows that your personal correspondence, and drafts of treaties written in your hand, are being bartered for drinks by scullery-maids in Dunkerque gin-houses." Eliza began, "that Irishmen broke into your house, and stole your papers and sold them on the open market. What an embarra.s.sment it must be for you that everyone knows that your personal correspondence, and drafts of treaties written in your hand, are being bartered for drinks by scullery-maids in Dunkerque gin-houses."

"What! I was not informed of this!" D'Avaux turned red so fast it was if a cup of blood had been hurled in his face.

"You have been on a boat for a fortnight, how could you be informed? I am informing you now, monsieur."

"I was led to believe that those papers had come into your your possession, mademoiselle, and it is possession, mademoiselle, and it is you you I shall hold responsible for them!" I shall hold responsible for them!"

"What you have been led to believe led to believe does not matter," said Eliza, "only what does not matter," said Eliza, "only what is. is. And so let me tell you what And so let me tell you what is. is. The thieves who stole your papers sent them to Dunkerque, it is true. Perhaps they even entertained a phant'sy that I would buy them. I refused to lower myself to such a dishonorable transaction." The thieves who stole your papers sent them to Dunkerque, it is true. Perhaps they even entertained a phant'sy that I would buy them. I refused to lower myself to such a dishonorable transaction."

"Then perhaps you will explain to me, mademoiselle, why you have some of those very papers on your lap at this moment!"

"As the saying goes, there is no honor among thieves. When these ruffians saw that I was adamant in my refusal to do business with them, they began to seek other buyers. The packet was broken up into small lots, which were offered for sale, on various channels. To add to the complexity of the matter, it seems that the thieves had a falling-out amongst themselves. I cannot follow the business, to tell you the truth. When it became evident that these papers were being scattered to the four winds, I began making efforts to purchase them, as available. The ones on my lap are all that I have been able to round up, so far."

D'Avaux was at a loss for civil words, and could only shake his head and mutter to himself.

"You may be chagrined, monsieur, and ungrateful; but may be chagrined, monsieur, and ungrateful; but I I am pleased that I have been able to repay some small part of my personal debt to you by recovering some of your papers-" am pleased that I have been able to repay some small part of my personal debt to you by recovering some of your papers-"

"And returning them to me?"

"As I am able," Eliza answered with a shrug. "To recover them all does not happen in a single day, week, or month."

"Now," Eliza went on, "a minute ago, you were indulging in some speculations as to where I shall end up. Some of your ideas on this topic are quite fanciful-Barock, even. Some of them are distasteful to persons of breeding, and I shall pretend I did not hear them. I can see well enough that you have lost confidence in me, monsieur. I know that you must do as honor dictates. Go then to Versailles-for I cannot travel as fast as you, enc.u.mbered as I am with an infant and a household, and busy as I am with this project of recovering your papers. State your case to the King. Let him know that I am no n.o.ble, but a common wench who deserves no better treatment. He will be startled to learn these things, for he considers me to be a hereditary Countess. I am a dear friend of his sister-in-law and moreover have recently loaned him above a million livres tournois livres tournois of my own money. But your persuasive powers are renowned-as you demonstrated during your posting in the Hague, where you so effectively reined in the ambitions of that poseur, William of Orange." of my own money. But your persuasive powers are renowned-as you demonstrated during your posting in the Hague, where you so effectively reined in the ambitions of that poseur, William of Orange."

This was truly a knee to the groin, and rendered d'Avaux speechless, not so much from pain as from a curious admixture of shock and awe.

Eliza continued, "You may induce the King to believe anything-particularly given that you have such strong evidence. What was it again? A journal?"

"Yes, mademoiselle-your journal." journal."

"Who is in possession of this book?"

"It is not a book, as you know perfectly well, but an embroidered pillowcase." Here d'Avaux began to pinken again.

"A...pillowcase?"

"Yes."

"In English they call it a sham, by the way. Tell me, are there any other bedlinens implicated in the scandal?"

"Not that I am aware of."

"Curtains? Rugs? Tea-towels?"

"No, mademoiselle."

"Who has possession of this...pillowcase?"

"You do, mademoiselle." do, mademoiselle."

"Such items are bulky and soon go out of fashion. Before I left the Hague, I sold most of my household goods and burned the rest-including all pillowcases."

"But a copy was made, mademoiselle, by a clerk in the French Emba.s.sy in the Hague, and given to Monsieur Rossignol."

"That clerk died of the smallpox," Eliza told him-which was a lie that she had made up on the spot, but it would take him a month to find this out.

"Ah, but Monsieur Rossignol is alive and well, and trusted implicitly by the King."

"Does the King trust you, monsieur?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Monsieur Rossignol sent a copy of his report to the King but not to you. It made me curious. And what of the monk?"

"Which monk?"

"The Qwghlmian monk in Dublin to whom Monsieur Rossignol sent the plaintext to be translated."

"You are most well-informed, mademoiselle."

"I do not think that I am particularly well-or ill-informed, monsieur. I am simply trying to be of service to you."

"In what way?"

"You have a difficult interview awaiting you at Versailles. You shall come before the King. In his treasury-which he watches with utmost care-he has a fortune in hard money, lately deposited by me. You will make him believe that I am a commoner and a traitor by describing a report you have never seen about a pillowcase that no longer exists, supposedly carrying an encrypted message in Qwghlmian, which no one reads except for some three-fingered monk in Ireland."

"We shall see," said d'Avaux. "My interview with Father edouard de Gex will be a simple matter by comparison."

"And how does edouard de Gex enter into it?"

"Oh, of all the Jesuits at Versailles, mademoiselle, he is the most influential, for he is the confessor of de Maintenon. Indeed, when anyone anyone" (raising an eyebrow at Eliza) "misbehaves at Versailles, Madame de Maintenon complains of it to Father de Gex, who then goes to the confessor of the guilty party so that the next time she goes to confession she is made aware of the Queen's displeasure. Yes, you may smirk at the idea, mademoiselle-many do-but it gives him great power. For when a courtier steps into the confessional and has his ears blistered by the priest, he has no way to know whether the criticism is really coming from the Queen, the King, or de Gex."

"What will you you confess to de Gex, then?" Eliza asked. "That you have had impure thoughts about the Countess de la Zeur?" confess to de Gex, then?" Eliza asked. "That you have had impure thoughts about the Countess de la Zeur?"

"It is not in a confessional where I shall meet him," d'Avaux said, "but in a salon salon somewhere, and the topic of conversation will be: Where is this orphan boy to be raised? What is his Christian name, by the way?" somewhere, and the topic of conversation will be: Where is this orphan boy to be raised? What is his Christian name, by the way?"

"I have been calling him Jean."

"But his Christian name Christian name? He has has been baptized, of course?" been baptized, of course?"

"I have been very busy," Eliza said. "He is to be baptized in a few days, here at the Church of St.-Eloi."

"How many days exactly exactly? Surely it is not such a demanding calculation for one of your talents."

"Three days."

"Father de Gex will be, I'm sure, suitably impressed by this display of piety. The christening is to be performed by a Jesuit, I presume?"

"Monsieur, I would not think of having it done by a Jansenist!"

"Excellent. I look forward to making the acquaintance of this little Christian when you bring him to Versailles."

"Are you certain I'll be welcome there, monsieur?"

"Pourquoi non? I only pray that I only pray that I I shall be." shall be."