CHAPTER XLV

THE NECESSITIES OF CONDITION

All through the long illness of Cyrene, which followed the revolt at Eaux Tranquilles, and especially after her first grief for the misguided men who had fallen in the corridor, her heart dwelt with great intensity on the destruction of her hope of a home. She recurred to it again and again in her conversations with him, until he ventured to mention to her the offer once made to him by Liancourt of the position of Commandant of the cadet school on his estates.

"Could you retire thither," said he, looking into her eyes with emotion, "away for ever from your friends, away from your rank, from the Court, and all that is so brilliant and belongs to you, to live your life along with a man of humble birth wholly unworthy of you? You speak of a quiet hearth and of abandonment of the world, but could you make a sacrifice so great as this?"

"Germain, love, do you not know me yet?" she answered, returning him a look of affection which profoundly troubled him. He knelt and kissed her hand in silence. "Is not love life itself?" she said, rising with difficulty from her arm-chair. "Let us go without delay and obtain permission," and, taking his hand, led him with steps slow and pitiably uncertain into the presence of the Marechale.

Madame was seated alone, mumbling to the count of her rosary, but on their appearance dropped it in her lap and resumed her usual bearing of dignity.

"Grand-aunt," began the Baroness, "we have a great boon to ask of you."

"What is it, Baroness?" she said.

"Grand-aunt," Cyrene repeated falteringly, "have you ever known what it is to love?"

The question astonished Madame l'Etiquette. For a moment it seemed as if a slight mounting of the blood to her wrinkled cheeks was visible. In the next her features resumed their stiffness, and she answered, "Tush!

that is the business of citizenesses."

"You too have had your dream; I have heard of it," Cyrene persisted.

"Women are women, whatever their sphere."

"Say illusion, perhaps, not dream; but the subject must cease. What do you want of me after this very _malapropos_ preface?"

"I ask you to consent to our immediate marriage," Cyrene said with desperate directness, and tremblingly taking the chair which Germain proffered, sat down with white face, watching Madame de Noailles anxiously.

The latter did not reply.

"Grand-aunt," pled the young woman, "you have felt like us in your day, the longing for a home, a sweet refuge from the wretchedness of life.

You had a lover to make you feel how sweet it might have been."

"Get these silly ideas out of your head," responded Madame l'Etiquette, ignoring Lecour, but speaking in a not unkindly manner. "Your rank demands an _establishment_, not a home. Monsieur understands that his position and yours are very different, and that two things at least are necessary in order to make your marriage possible--his standing as a Bodyguard, and a complete establishment. The riotous condition of his province makes the latter very dubious. You understand this, Monsieur de Lincy?"

"It must be admitted, Madame la Marechale," Lecour said sorrowfully.

"You have some sense, I observe."

"But I can live without an establishment. A position is open to Germain in the provinces as Commandant of a school," Cyrene exclaimed.

Madame uttered an exclamation so energetic, and she rose so fiercely from her chair that Cyrene stopped in dismay.

"Saints of heaven!" went on the Marechale, "is the family on the brink of a catastrophe? Can the Noailles, the Court, and the Crown afford to allow a Montmorency to annihilate herself? How dare you, forgetful of your relatives, your position, your descent from a hundred kings, advance such a proposal to the Chief Lady of Honour. I am something, Madame, and I intend to be considered, and to see that your family shall be considered. A pretty idea this, of rustic innocence and rural retirement, of straw bonnets and shepherding, of the new school to which you belong and who are the enemies of everything permanent. You are destroying customs to make way for theories, manners for boon comradeship, chivalry for finance, elegance for vulgarity, religion for atheism, and character for sentiment. You are to blame for all the present disorders, and such as you have brought about the burning of your own chateau. No, Madame, I will not permit the marriage. How dare you propose it to her, sir?"

Lecour said nothing. He could not.

Cyrene continued bravely.

"The matter is of the deepest concern--of infinite importance to us."

"I have decided it. I am the guardian of your future, and I intend to remain so."

"You are the lady head of the family and guardian of my future under the will of my father, but let me say without disrespect that I am a widow, and legally control my own right to dispose of my hand."

"You think you could disobey me? I could easily see to that. The King would refuse to sign the contract of marriage, and there my power would only begin."

"You cannot prevent us from at least marrying. The humblest French peasants have a right to that without any royal signature."

"Yes I can, and I will show you the power of the old school!" cried the dame, straightening herself with an inconceivable triumph and shaking out the folds of her brocade. "Monsieur de Lincy here knows well that I am right in preventing you from sacrificing your position. I call upon _his honour as a n.o.ble_ not to allow this disgrace to fall upon you. I call upon it to sustain the head of your house. I call upon it to reverence the wish of the dead and the will of the King. You admit me right and just, Monsieur de Lincy? I call upon your honour as a n.o.ble.

Answer me."

"There is but one way of replying," he returned slowly; and Cyrene in her very anguish showed her pride in his response to the fatal appeal to his honour.

"Well, then," Madame cried, partaking in that pride and changing her manner to one of much kindliness, "you have done well and are good children. Believe that my strictness shall endure no longer than is necessary. It is true that in the name of order I forbid your marriage, but I consent to your remaining affianced until these troubles of our country pa.s.s away or Monsieur obtains some establishment, no matter how small, if sufficient, and even though that should take as long as your lives may last. Kneel and receive an old woman's blessing."

With what disappointed and mingled feelings they knelt before her and bowed to the conquest of nature by the Old _Regime_.

CHAPTER XLVI

THE PATRIOTS

At midnight the full moon, silver-gilt, touched the house-fronts of the Street of the Hanged Man. They lit the figure and slouched hat of Jude, who, carrying a package, slunk up to the door of the Gougeon shop and was admitted. The Big Bench were in session. The light of the tallow-dip seemed to concentrate itself on the wicked smile of the Admiral as he watched Jude opening the packages.

"Do you know who sent this, gentlemen?" the spy cried, enjoying the importance of being the bearer of some surprise.

"We are not gentlemen, and we do not know," retorted Hache.

"It was a high personage, rowers--no less a personage than a prince--a royal prince."

"What have _we_ to do with princes?"

"With the Duke of Orleans, much; rival to the throne, he is the friend of the people."

"Ah, yes, the friend of the people, and he wants us for something. That is a good contract," the Admiral interrupted. "Whose windpipe does he want to cut, and what does he promise to pay for it?"

"Nothing so risky; only some shouting, and as for the pay, here, Admiral, is the nose of the dog," and he handed him a full bag of coin.

The Admiral tore it open, and exhibited the metal to his greedy-eyed subordinates. Hache grabbed at a couple of the coins, and joyfully flipped them up to the ceiling.

"Now what does our friend the Duke of Orleans want? Our _friend_ the Duke of Orleans, _gentlemen_," the Admiral added, smiling ironically.

"To wear these badges and shout for him," replied Jude, displaying the contents of his parcel, a couple of dozen red woollen tuques.

"No objection," the Admiral answered; "no objection in the world, but what is the object?"