Chapter VI: Madame Opens the Trenches

And for a minute I continued to loiter between the doorway over which the gorgeous hangings of blue and silver had fallen, and the chair in which sat the beautiful friend of king Louis, playing coquettishly with her fan of feathers.

Happily for me, I lived in a time, and had before me a career, wherein every brave and handsome fellow could attain fortune and distinction, if he made the essay with a tolerably plausible tongue and a sharp rapier--the tongue for the ladies; the rapier for the foes of the standard he fought under. Yet, while conscious of this, I stood irresolutely, playing with the somewhat worn feather that drooped from my beaver hat--I was now entirely alone with this brilliant, self-possessed and confident favourite of the king.

'M. Arthur, come hither,' said she.

I bowed.

'Are you afraid that I shall eat you?'

I bowed again, and approached her chair.

'Have you nothing to say to me?' she asked, turning her eyes full upon me.

'Ah, madame, what shall I say--how express myself!'

'You know how much I have to forgive you.'

'Do not speak of it, madame. Your brother's narrow escape from a death at my hand, makes me tremble, when I think of it!'

'We will talk of that another time. Mademoiselle Nicola has told me how much he and his debauched companion were to blame in molesting her.'

'True, Countess.'

'But they knew not who she was.'

'How, madame?

'That she was my attendant and not a grisette,' said the Countess hastily. 'You have heard all that M. le Marquis has so kindly promised.'

'Oh yes, yes; more than I deserve, be assured.'

'What, are you so very wicked?'

'I trust not; yet I dare not express all I feel.'

'Am I then so terrible, or have you lost your tongue or your wits?' she asked with a waggish smile in her beautiful and half-closed eyes, as she leant back in the soft fautueil.

'If Madame la Comtesse would----'

'Would what? speak out, boy; what are you thinking of?'

'Would pardon me, and excuse this confusion; for my soul is full of nothing but perplexity and admiration.'

Thus did the magic of this woman's beauty sway me against my reason, while I despised her position in my heart--a heart, moreover, that was not ungrateful.

She burst into a fit of merry laughter.

'Ma foi! my dear young friend, my Scottish provincial, you will make your fortune if you only continue as you have begun. A year in the Scottish guard will make you a more accomplished chevalier than the Marquis de Gordon himself! Really, without knowing it, you already act like a finished courtier.'

'I will study to improve this acting, and if madame will only permit to kiss her hand----'

'Tush, you silly boy, we are quite alone; your heart is full of gratitude, and you would only kiss my hand. What a timid little child it is!'

I kissed her on the cheek, and felt her soft perfumed hair sweep across my forehead, as, tremulous with delight and emotion, I drew back, abashed by my own temerity, for I was but a boy; and the warning of the kind Marquis tingled in my ears and in my heart.

'Poor child; it looks quite frightened,' said the Countess, smiling with the most provoking coolness.

'Madame, I have a king for my rival.'

'Take courage.'

'I have never lacked it.'

'He who loses heart, loses all, in a game of this kind at least. From this time we are allies, sworn friends; when you visit me again, do not enter by the porte cochère, but by the secret door at the back of the château, _remember_.'

At that moment I perceived the fair form of the Countess's golden-haired attendant, standing close by the arras which she had raised unbidden. She must have seen some portion of the last episode; for her fine eyes were fixed, I thought, somewhat pityingly on me, and disdainfully on her mistress. This little provincial in her plain coif was delicately beautiful in face, hands, and form; but eclipsed and overshadowed as she was by the brilliance and vivacity of the demonstrative Countess, I took but little notice of her then.

The moment she perceived Nicola, Madame d'Amboise coloured, and said to me rather sharply,

'Farewell, M. Arthur; you must now keep your appointment in Paris with M. le Marquis and the Marechal de Logis of the Scottish Guard; and remember that when all is arranged, I shall always be delighted to see you at the Château d'Amboise.' She rang a handbell, and Antoine appeared.

'Tell the master of the stables to give this gentleman my bay horse Dagobert, which he will please to keep as a gift from me. Now go, M. Arthur; and by the haste with which you return, I shall judge of your regard and your gratitude. Adieu.' In ten minutes more I was on the road to Paris.

I may briefly mention, that before leaving the château, I was permitted, after innumerable difficulties, to visit my antagonist of the preceding night. I found him in bed, a handsome and soldier-like fellow, but pale with loss of blood, and, though out of danger, weak and severely wounded. I begged his forgiveness, which he readily accorded, and declined to accept back his ring; but requested my word of honour, that I would not mention his name to any one in Paris, as he was an officer of the Duke of Lorraine--the chevalier Raoul d'Ische, to have whom quietly disposed of, in one of the oubliettes of the Louvre or the stone cages of Louis XI., Cardinal Richelieu would readily pay a thousand crowns of the sun, for Raoul was the right arm of Lorraine.

'How, then, does the king's physician visit you?'

'Because his place depends upon the smile or frown of my sister Clara. The reason of the Cardinal's enmity to me and to my master the Duke, on whose service I am secretly in Paris, another month will explain; but the Cardinal dreads us more than that cancer of which his mistress Anne of Austria is dying,' said he, as he pressed my hand, and I left him.