Александр Дюма
Marguerite de Valois
CHAPTER LVI
THE INVISIBLE BUCKLERS
The day after that on which Catharine had written this letter the governor entered Coconnas's cell with an imposing retinue consisting of two halberdiers and four men in black gowns.
Coconnas was asked to descend to a room in which the Attorney Laguesle and two judges waited to question him according to Catharine's instructions.
During the week he had spent in prison Coconnas had reflected a great deal. Besides that, he and La Mole were together for a few minutes each day, through the kindness of their jailer, who, without saying anything to them, had arranged this surprise, which in all probability they did not owe to his philosophy alone, – besides, we say, La Mole and he had agreed on the course they were to pursue, which was to persist in absolute denial; and they were persuaded that with a little skill the affair would take a more favorable turn; the charges were no greater against them than against the others. Henry and Marguerite had made no attempt at flight; they could not therefore be compromised in an affair in which the chief ring-leaders were free. Coconnas did not know that Henry was in the prison, and the complaisance of the jailer told him that above his head hovered a certain protection which he called the invisible bucklers.
Up to then the examination had been confined to the intentions of the King of Navarre, his plans of flight, and the part the two friends had played in them. To all these questions Coconnas had constantly replied in a way more than vague and much more than adroit; he was ready still to reply in the same way, and had prepared in advance all his little repartees, when he suddenly found the object of the examination was altered. It turned upon one or more visits to Réné, one or more waxen figures made at the instigation of La Mole.
Prepared as he was, Coconnas believed that the accusation lost much of its intensity, since it was no longer a question of having betrayed a king but of having made a figure of a queen; and this figure not more than ten inches high at the most. He, therefore, replied brightly that neither he nor his friend had played with a doll for some time, and noticed with pleasure that several times his answers made the judges smile.
It had not yet been said in verse: "I have laughed, therefore am I disarmed," but it had been said a great deal in prose. And Coconnas thought that he had partly disarmed his judges because they had smiled.
His examination over, he went back to his cell, singing so merrily that La Mole, for whom he was making all the noise, drew from it the happiest auguries.
La Mole was brought down, and like Coconnas saw with astonishment that the accusation had abandoned its first ground and had entered a new field. He was questioned as to his visits to Réné. He replied that he had gone to the Florentine only once. Then, if he had not ordered a waxen figure. He replied that Réné had showed him such a figure ready made. He was then asked if this figure did not represent a man. He replied that it represented a woman. Then, if the object of the charm was not to cause the death of the man. He replied that the purpose of the charm was to cause himself to be beloved by the woman.
These questions were put in a hundred different forms, but La Mole always replied in the same way. The judges looked at one another with a certain indecision, not knowing what to say or do before such simplicity, when a note brought to the Attorney-General solved the difficulty.
"If the accused denies resort to the torture.
"C."
The attorney put the note into his pocket, smiled at La Mole, and politely dismissed him.
La Mole returned to his cell almost as reassured, if not as joyous, as Coconnas.
"I think everything is going well," said he.
An hour later he heard footsteps and saw a note slipped under his door, without seeing the hand that did it. He took it up, thinking that in all probability it came from the jailer?
Seeing it, a hope almost as acute as a disappointment sprang into his heart; he hoped it was from Marguerite, from whom he had had no news since he had been a prisoner.
He took it up with trembling hand, and almost died of joy as he looked at the handwriting.
"Courage!" said the note. "I am watching over you."
"Ah! if she is watching," cried La Mole, covering with kisses the paper which had touched a hand so dear, "if she is watching, I am saved."
In order for La Mole to comprehend the note and rely with Coconnas on what the Piedmontese called his invisible bucklers it is necessary for us to conduct the reader to that small house, to that chamber in which the reminders of so many scenes of intoxicating happiness, so many half-evaporated perfumes, so many tender recollections, since become agonizing, were breaking the heart of a woman half reclining on velvet cushions.
"To be a queen, to be strong, young, rich, beautiful, and suffer what I suffer!" cried this woman; "oh! it is impossible!"
Then in her agitation she rose, paced up and down, stopped suddenly, pressed her burning forehead against the ice-cold marble, rose pale, her face covered with tears, wrung her hands, and crying aloud fell back again hopeless into a chair.
Suddenly the tapestry which separated the apartment of the Rue Cloche Percée from that in the Rue Tizon was raised, and the Duchesse de Nevers entered.
"Ah!" exclaimed Marguerite, "is it you? With what impatience I have waited for you! Well! What news?"
"Bad news, my poor friend. Catharine herself is hurrying on the trial, and at present is at Vincennes."
"And Réné?"
"Is arrested."
"Before you were able to speak to him?"
"Yes."
"And our prisoners?"
"I have news of them."
"From the jailer?"
"Yes."
"Well?"
"Well! They see each other every day. The day before yesterday they were searched. La Mole broke your picture to atoms rather than give it up."
"Dear La Mole!"
"Annibal laughed in the face of the inquisitors."
"Worthy Annibal! What then?"
"This morning they were questioned as to the flight of the king, his projects of rebellion in Navarre, and they said nothing."
"Oh! I knew they would keep silence; but silence will kill them as much as if they spoke."
"Yes, but we must save them."
"Have you thought over our plan?"
"Since yesterday I have thought of nothing else."
"Well?"
"I have just come to terms with Beaulieu. Ah! my dear queen, what a hard and greedy man! It will cost a man's life, and three hundred thousand crowns."
"You say he is hard and greedy – and yet he asks only the life of a man and three hundred thousand crowns. Why, that is nothing!"
"Nothing! Three hundred thousand crowns! Why, all your jewels and all mine would not be enough."
"Oh! that is nothing. The King of Navarre will pay something, the Duc d'Alençon will pay part, and my brother Charles will pay part, or if not" —
"See! what nonsense you talk. I have the money."
"You?"
"Yes, I."
"How did you get it?"
"Ah! that is telling!"
"Is it a secret?"
"For every one except you."
"Oh, my God!" said Marguerite, smiling through her tears, "did you steal it?"
"You shall judge."
"Well, let me."
"Do you remember that horrible Nantouillet?"
"The rich man, the usurer?"
"If you please."
"Well?"
"Well! One day seeing a certain blonde lady, with greenish eyes, pass by, wearing three rubies, one over her forehead, the other two over her temples, an arrangement which was very becoming to her, this rich man, this usurer, cried out:
"'For three kisses in the place of those three rubies I will give you three diamonds worth one hundred thousand crowns apiece!'"
"Well, Henriette?"
"Well, my dear, the diamonds appeared and are sold."
"Oh, Henriette! Henriette!" cried Marguerite.
"Well!" exclaimed the duchess in a bold tone at once innocent and sublime, which sums up the age and the woman, "well, I love Annibal!"
"That is true," said Marguerite, smiling and blushing at the same time, "you love him a very great deal, too much, perhaps."
And yet she pressed her friend's hand.
"So," continued Henriette, "thanks to our three diamonds, the three hundred thousand crowns and the man are ready."
"The man? What man?"
"The man to be killed; you forget a man must be killed."
"Have you found the necessary man?"
"Yes."
"At the same price?" asked Marguerite, smiling.
"At the same price I could have found a thousand," replied Henriette, "no, no, for five hundred crowns."
"For five hundred crowns you have found a man who has consented to be killed?"
"What can you expect? It is necessary for us to live."
"My dear friend, I do not understand you. Come, explain. Enigmas require too much time to guess at such a moment as this."
"Well, listen; the jailer to whom the keeping of La Mole and Coconnas is entrusted is an old soldier who knows what a wound is. He would like to help save our friends, but he does not want to lose his place. A blow of a dagger skilfully aimed will end the affair. We will give him a reward and the kingdom, indemnification. In this way the brave man will receive money from both parties and will renew the fable of the pelican."
"But," said Marguerite, "a thrust of a dagger" —
"Do not worry; Annibal will give it."
"Well," said Marguerite, "he has given as many as three blows of his sword to La Mole, and La Mole is not dead; there is therefore every reason to hope."
"Wicked woman! You deserve to have me stop."
"Oh! no, no; on the contrary, tell me the rest, I beg you. How are we to save them; come!"
"Well, this is the plan. The chapel is the only place in the castle where women can enter who are not prisoners. We are to be hidden behind the altar. Under the altar cloth they will find two daggers. The door of the vestry-room will be opened beforehand. Coconnas will strike the jailer, who will fall and pretend to be dead; we appear; each of us throws a cloak over the shoulders of her friend; we run with them through the small doors of the vestry-room, and as we have the password we can leave without hindrance."
"And once out?"
"Two horses will be waiting at the door; the men will spring on them, leave France, and reach Lorraine, whence now and then they will return incognito."
"Oh! you restore me to life," said Marguerite. "So we shall save them?"
"I am almost sure of it."
"Soon?"
"In three or four days. Beaulieu is to let us know."
"But if you were recognized in the vicinity of Vincennes that might upset our plan."
"How could any one recognize me? I go there as a nun, with a hood, thanks to which not even the tip of my nose is visible."
"We cannot take too many precautions."
"I know that well enough, by Heaven! as poor Annibal would say."
"Did you hear anything about the King of Navarre?"
"I was careful to ask."
"Well?"
"Well, he has never been so happy, apparently; he laughs, sings, eats, drinks, and sleeps well, and asks only one thing, and that is to be well guarded."
"He is right. And my mother?"
"I told you she is hurrying on the trial as fast as she can."
"Yes, but does she suspect anything about us?"
"How could she? Every one who has a secret is anxious to keep it. Ah! I know that she told the judges in Paris to be in readiness."
"Let us act quickly, Henriette. If our poor prisoners change their abode, everything will have to be done over again."
"Do not worry. I am as anxious as you to see them free."
"Oh, yes, I know that, and thank you, thank you a hundred times for all you have done."
"Adieu, Marguerite. I am going into the country again."
"Are you sure of Beaulieu?"
"I think so."
"Of the jailer?"
"He has promised."
"Of the horses?"
"They will be the best in the stables of the Duc de Nevers."
"I adore you, Henriette."
And Marguerite threw her arms about her friend's neck, after which the two women separated, promising to see each other again the next day, and every day, at the same place and hour.
These were the two charming and devoted creatures whom Coconnas, with so much reason, called his invisible bucklers.
CHAPTER LVII
THE JUDGES
"Well, my brave friend," said Coconnas to La Mole, when the two were together after the examination, at which, for the first time, the subject of the waxen image had been discussed, "it seems to me that everything is going on finely, and that it will not be long before the judges will dismiss us. And this diagnosis is entirely different from that of a dismissal by physicians. When the doctor gives up the patient it is because he cannot cure him, but when the judge gives up the accused it is because he has no further hope of having him beheaded."
"Yes," said La Mole; "and moreover, it seems to me, from the politeness and gentleness of the jailer and the looseness of the doors, that I recognize our kind friends; but I do not recognize Monsieur de Beaulieu, at least from what I had been told of him."
"I recognize him," said Coconnas; "only it will cost dearly. But one is a princess, the other a queen; both are rich, and they will never have so good an opportunity to use their money. Now let us go over our lesson. We are to be taken to the chapel, and left there in charge of our turnkey; we shall each find a dagger in the spot indicated. I am to make a hole in the body of our guide."
"Yes, but a slight one in the arm; otherwise you will rob him of his five hundred crowns."
"Ah, no; not in the arm, for in that case he would have to lose it, and it would be easy to see that it was given intentionally. No, it must be in his right side, gliding skilfully along his ribs; that would look natural, but in reality would be harmless."
"Well, aim for that, and then" —
"Then you will barricade the front door with benches while our two princesses rush from behind the altar, where they are to be hidden, and Henriette opens the vestry door. Ah, faith, how I love Henriette to-day! She must have been faithless to me in some way for me to feel as I do."
"And then," said La Mole, with the trembling voice which falls from lips like music, "then we shall reach the forest. A kiss given to each of us will make us strong and happy. Can you not picture us, Annibal, bending over our swift horses, our hearts gently oppressed? Oh, what a good thing is fear! Fear in the open air when one has one's naked sword at one's side, when one cries 'hurra' to the courser pricked by the spur, and which at each shout speeds the faster."
"Yes," said Coconnas, "but fear within four walls – what do you say to that, La Mole? I can speak of it, for I have felt something of it. When Beaulieu, with his pale face, entered my cell for the first time, behind him in the darkness shone halberds, and I heard a sinister sound of iron striking against iron. I swear to you I immediately thought of the Duc d'Alençon, and I expected to see his ugly face between the two hateful heads of the halberdiers. I was mistaken, however, and this was my sole consolation. But that was not all; night came, and I dreamed."
"So," said La Mole, who had been following his happy train of thought without paying attention to his friend, "so they have foreseen everything, even the place in which we are to hide. We shall go to Lorraine, dear friend. In reality I should rather have had it Navarre, for there I should have been with her, but Navarre is too far; Nancey would be better; besides, once there, we should be only eighty leagues from Paris. Have you any feeling of regret, Annibal, at leaving this place?"
"Ah, no! the idea! Although I confess I am leaving everything that belongs to me."
"Well, could we manage to take the worthy jailer with us instead of" —
"He would not go," said Coconnas, "he would lose too much. Think of it! five hundred crowns from us, a reward from the government; promotion, perhaps; how happy will be that fellow's life when I shall have killed him! But what is the matter?"
"Nothing! An idea came to me."
"It is not a funny one, apparently, for you are frightfully pale."
"I was wondering why they should take us to the chapel."
"Why," said Coconnas, "to receive the sacrament. This is the time for it, I think."
"But," said La Mole, "they take only those condemned to death or the torture to the chapel."
"Oh!" said Coconnas, becoming somewhat pale in turn, "this deserves our attention. Let us question the good man whom I am to split open. Here, turnkey!"
"Did monsieur call?" asked the jailer, who had been keeping watch at the top of the stairs.
"Yes; come here."
"Well?"
"It has been arranged that we are to escape from the chapel, has it not?"
"Hush!" said the turnkey, looking round him in terror.
"Do not worry; no one can hear us."
"Yes, monsieur; it is from the chapel."
"They are to take us to the chapel, then?"
"Yes; that is the custom."
"The custom?"
"Yes; it is customary to allow every one condemned to death to pass the night in the chapel."
Coconnas and La Mole shuddered and glanced at each other.
"You think we are condemned to death, then?"
"Certainly. You, too, must think so."
"Why should we think so?" asked La Mole.
"Certainly; otherwise you would not have arranged everything for your escape."
"Do you know, there is reason in what he says!" said Coconnas to La Mole.
"Yes; and what I know besides is that we are playing a close game, apparently."
"But do you think I am risking nothing?" said the turnkey. "If in a moment of excitement monsieur should make a mistake" —
"Well! by Heaven! I wish I were in your place," said Coconnas, slowly, "and had to deal with no hand but this; with no sword except the one which is to graze you."
"Condemned to death!" murmured La Mole, "why, that is impossible!"
"Impossible!" said the turnkey, naïvely, "and why?"
"Hush!" said Coconnas, "I think some one is opening the lower door."
"To your cells, gentlemen, to your cells!" cried the jailer, hurriedly.
"When do you think the trial will take place?" asked La Mole.
"To-morrow, or later. But be easy; those who must be informed shall be."
"Then let us embrace each other and bid farewell to these walls."
The two friends rushed into each other's arms and then returned to their cells, La Mole sighing, Coconnas singing.
Nothing new happened until seven o'clock. Night fell dark and rainy over the prison of Vincennes, a perfect night for flight. The evening meal was brought to Coconnas, who ate with his usual appetite, thinking of the pleasure he would feel in being soaked in the rain, which was pattering against the walls, and already preparing himself to fall asleep to the dull, monotonous murmur of the wind, when suddenly it seemed to him that this wind, to which he occasionally listened with a feeling of melancholy never before experienced by him until he came to prison, whistled more strangely than usual under the doors, and that the stove roared with a louder noise than common. This had happened every time one of the cells above or opposite him was opened. It was by this noise that Annibal always knew the jailer was coming from La Mole's cell.
But this time it was in vain that Coconnas remained with eye and ear alert.
The moments passed; no one came.
"This is strange," said Coconnas, "La Mole's door has been opened and not mine. Could La Mole have called? Can he be ill? What does it mean?"
With a prisoner everything is a cause for suspicion and anxiety, as everything is a cause for joy and hope.
Half an hour passed, then an hour, then an hour and a half.
Coconnas was beginning to grow sleepy from anger when the grating of the lock made him spring to his feet.
"Oh!" said he, "has the time come for us to leave and are they going to take us to the chapel without condemning us? By Heaven, what joy it would be to escape on such a night! It is as dark as an oven! I hope the horses are not blind."
He was about to ask some jocular question of the turnkey when he saw the latter put his finger to his lips and roll his eyes significantly. Behind the jailer Coconnas heard sounds and perceived shadows.
Suddenly in the midst of the darkness he distinguished two helmets, on which the smoking candle threw a yellow light.
"Oh!" said he in a low voice, "what is this sinister procession? What is going to happen?"
The jailer replied by a sigh which greatly resembled a groan.
"By Heaven!" murmured Coconnas; "what a wretched existence! always on the ragged edge; never on firm land; either we paddle in a hundred feet of water or we hover above the clouds; never a happy medium. Well, where are we going?"
"Follow the halberdiers, monsieur," repeated the same voice.
He had to obey. Coconnas left his room, and perceived the dark man whose voice had been so disagreeable. He was a clerk, small and hunchbacked, who no doubt had put on the gown in order to hide his bandy legs, as well as his back. He slowly descended the winding stairs. At the first landing the guards paused.
"That is a good deal to go down," murmured Coconnas, "but not enough."
The door opened. The prisoner had the eye of a lynx and the scent of a bloodhound. He scented the judges and saw in the shadow the silhouette of a man with bare arms; the latter sight made the perspiration mount to his brow. Nevertheless, he assumed his most smiling manner, and entered the room with his head tipped to one side, and his hand on his hip, after the most approved manner of the times.
A curtain was raised, and Coconnas perceived the judges and the clerks.
A few feet away La Mole was seated on a bench.
Coconnas was led to the front of the tribunal. Arrived there, he stopped, nodded and smiled to La Mole, and then waited.
"What is your name, monsieur?" inquired the president.
"Marcus Annibal de Coconnas," replied the gentleman with perfect ease. "Count de Montpantier, Chenaux, and other places; but they are known, I presume."
"Where were you born?"
"At Saint Colomban, near Suza."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-seven years and three months."
"Good!" said the president.
"This pleases him, apparently," said Coconnas.
"Now," said the president after a moment's silence which gave the clerk time to write down the answers of the accused; "what was your reason for leaving the service of Monsieur d'Alençon?"
"To rejoin my friend Monsieur de la Mole, who had already left the duke three days before."
"What were you doing the day of the hunt, when you were arrested?"
"Why," said Coconnas, "I was hunting."
"The King was also present at that hunt, and was there seized with the first attack of the malady from which he is at present suffering."
"I was not near the King, and I can say nothing about this. I was even ignorant of the fact that he had been ill."
The judges looked at one another with a smile of incredulity.
"Ah! you were ignorant of his Majesty's illness, were you?" said the president.
"Yes, monsieur, and I am sorry to hear of it. Although the King of France is not my king, I have a great deal of sympathy for him."
"Indeed!"
"On my honor! It is different so far as his brother the Duc d'Alençon is concerned. The latter I confess" —
"We have nothing to do with the Duc d'Alençon, monsieur; this concerns his Majesty."
"Well, I have already told you that I am his very humble servant," said Coconnas, turning about in an adorably impudent fashion.
"If as you pretend, monsieur, you are really his servant, will you tell us what you know of a certain waxen figure?"
"Ah, good! we have come back to the figure, have we?"
"Yes, monsieur; does this displease you?"
"On the contrary, I prefer it; go ahead."
"Why was this statue found in Monsieur de la Mole's apartments?"
"At Monsieur de la Mole's? At Réné's, you mean?"
"You acknowledge that it exists, then, do you?"
"Why, if you will show it to me."
"Here it is. Is this the one you know?"
"It is."
"Clerk," said the president, "write down that the accused recognizes the image as the one seen at Monsieur de la Mole's."
"No, no!" said Coconnas, "do not let us misunderstand each other – as the one seen at Réné's."
"At Réné's; very good! On what day?"
"The only day La Mole and myself were at Réné's."
"You admit, then, that you were at Réné's with Monsieur de la Mole?"
"Why, did I ever deny it?"
"Clerk, write down that the accused admits having gone to Réné's to work conjurations."
"Stop there, Monsieur le Président. Moderate your enthusiasm, I beg you. I did not say that at all."
"You deny having been at Réné's to work conjurations?"
"I deny it. The magic took place by accident. It was unpremeditated."
"But it took place?"
"I cannot deny that something resembling a charm did take place."
"Clerk, write down that the accused admits that he obtained at Réné's a charm against the life of the King."
"What! against the King's life? That is an infamous lie! There was no charm obtained against the life of the King."
"You see, gentlemen!" said La Mole.
"Silence!" said the president; then turning to the clerk: "Against the life of the King," he continued. "Have you that?"
"Why, no, no!" cried Coconnas. "Besides, the figure is not that of a man, but of a woman."
"What did I tell you, gentlemen?" said La Mole.
"Monsieur de la Mole," said the president, "answer when you are questioned, but do not interrupt the examination of others."
"So you say that it is a woman?"
"Certainly I say so."
"In that case, why did it have a crown and a cloak?"
"By Heaven!" said Coconnas, "that is simple enough, because it was" —
La Mole rose and put his finger on his lips.
"That is so," said Coconnas, "what was I going to say that could possibly concern these gentlemen?"
"You persist in stating that the figure is that of a woman?"
"Yes; certainly I persist."
"And you refuse to say what woman?"
"A woman of my country," said La Mole, "whom I loved and by whom I wished to be loved in return."
"We are not asking you, Monsieur de la Mole," said the president; "keep silent, therefore, or you shall be gagged."
"Gagged!" exclaimed Coconnas; "what do you mean, monsieur of the black robe? My friend gagged? A gentleman! the idea!"
"Bring in Réné," said the Attorney-General Laguesle.
"Yes; bring in Réné," said Coconnas; "we shall see who is right here, we two or you three."
Réné entered, pale, aged, and almost unrecognizable to the two friends, bowed under the weight of the crime he was about to commit much more than because of those he had already committed.
"Maître Réné," said the judge, "do you recognize the two accused persons here present?"
"Yes, monsieur," replied Réné, in a voice which betrayed his emotion.
"From having seen them where?"
"In several places; and especially at my house."
"How many times did they go to your house?"
"Once only."
As Réné spoke the face of Coconnas expanded; La Mole's, on the contrary, looked as though he had a presentiment of evil.
"For what purpose were they at your house?"
Réné seemed to hesitate a moment.
"To order me to make a waxen figure," said he.
"Pardon me, Maître Réné," said Coconnas, "you are making a slight mistake."
"Silence!" said the president; then turning to Réné, "was this figure to be that of a man or a woman?"
"A man," replied Réné.
Coconnas sprang up as if he had received an electric shock.
"A man!" he exclaimed.
"A man," repeated Réné, but in so low a tone that the president scarcely heard him.
"Why did this figure of a man have on a mantle and a crown?"
"Because it represented a king."
"Infamous liar!" cried Coconnas, infuriated.
"Keep still, Coconnas, keep still," interrupted La Mole, "let the man speak; every one has a right to sell his own soul."
"But not the bodies of others, by Heaven!"
"And what was the meaning of the needle in the heart of the figure, with the letter 'M' on a small banner?"
"The needle was emblematical of the sword or the dagger; the letter 'M' stands for mort."
Coconnas sprang forward as though to strangle Réné, but four guards restrained him.
"That will do," said the Attorney Laguesle, "the court is sufficiently informed. Take the prisoners to the waiting-room."
"But," exclaimed Coconnas, "it is impossible to hear one's self accused of such things without protesting."
"Protest, monsieur, no one will hinder you. Guards, did you hear?"
The guards seized the two prisoners and led them out, La Mole by one door, Coconnas by another.
Then the attorney signed to the man whom Coconnas had perceived in the shadow, and said to him:
"Do not go away, my good fellow, you shall have work this evening."
"Which shall I begin with, monsieur?" asked the man, respectfully holding his cap in his hand.
"With that one," said the president, pointing to La Mole, who could still be seen disappearing in the distance between the two guards. Then approaching Réné, who stood trembling, expecting to be led back to the cell in which he had been confined:
"You have spoken well, monsieur," said he to him, "you need not worry. Both the King and the queen shall know that it is to you they are indebted for the truth of this affair."
But instead of giving him strength, this promise seemed to terrify Réné, whose only answer was a deep sigh.
