<h4>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h4>
<br/>
<p>As I wished much to arrive at Chalons that night, we remained no
longer at Montmirail than was absolutely necessary to refresh the
horses; but before we arrived at Chaintrix, the ambling nag which had
borne Achilles began to appear jaded; and, for fear of knocking him up
altogether, I determined to halt at that little village for the night,
never doubting that we had left our persecutor far behind. What was my
surprise, then, on descending to the courtyard the next morning, to
see the same identical little man, with his brown pourpoint, and his
immense funnel-shaped riding boots, standing in the court ready to
mount his horse.</p>
<p>I drew back instantly, hoping he had not seen me, but to see
everything was a part of his profession; and quitting his horse's
bridle, he ran into the house after me, pulled off his beaver with the
lowest possible bow, giving me the compliments of the morning, and
declaring himself the happiest man in the world to have met with me
and my fortunate countenance again. "I saw your horse standing in the
stable," added he, "and was resolved not to be too late to-day."</p>
<p>His persevering impudence was so ridiculous, that I could not help
laughing; and as I saw no way of getting rid of him at the time, I
resolved to tolerate him for a while, till I could find some means
either of putting him on a wrong scent, or of casting him off more
effectually.</p>
<p>"Well, then," replied I, "if you are resolved to follow my fortunate
face all over the world, you will have to ride fast and far, for I am
going to Metz, and am pressed for time."</p>
<p>"Sir," replied the stranger, "I am delighted at the opportunity of
riding with you so far. If you had ever been in the East, sir, you
would have no difficulty in divining my motive in accompanying you."</p>
<p>"Without having been in the East," I muttered to myself, "I have no
difficulty in divining your motive;" but taking care not to allow him
to suppose I entertained any suspicions of him, I begged he would
explain how a journey to the East could have enlightened me upon such
a subject.</p>
<p>"Why you must know, sir," replied he, "that all Oriental nations
hold--and I profess myself of their opinion--that good and bad fortune
are infectious; and that by keeping company with a fortunate man, we
very often may mend our own luck. Now, sir, I read in your countenance
that you were born under a fortunate star, and, therefore, I resolved
not to leave you till I was certain I had caught something of the
same."</p>
<p>"But I hope you are not an unfortunate man," rejoined I, "for if you
are, on your own principle, you shall ride no farther with me."</p>
<p>"Oh no," replied the other, "my fortune is neither good nor bad; I am
just in that indifferent state, wherein a man is most liable to be
affected by the fortune of the company he falls into."</p>
<p>"Then, Lord deliver you!" said I, "for you have fallen in with one
whose whole existence hitherto has been nothing but a tissue of
mischances; and if I find, as I am afraid I shall, my aunt at Metz has
died without making a will, my misfortunes will be complete; for I
shall have hardly bread to eat, without his Eminence of Richelieu
gives me a place, in recompence of a little service I once rendered
him."</p>
<p>I tried hard to make this annunciation in as natural a tone as art
could furnish me with; and I succeeded in evidently bewildering all
the preconceived ideas of the spy, who, while I discharged my
reckoning and mounted my horse, which was now ready, stood with his
foot in the stirrup, and his face full of incertitude, not knowing
whether to believe me or not.</p>
<p>It luckily so happened that Achilles, who stood by, was totally
ignorant of what motive induced me to quit Paris; and I might, for
aught he knew, have had as many <i>aunts</i> at Metz as Danaüs had
daughters; so that his countenance was not likely to contradict me.</p>
<p>The spy, however, knowing that suspicion is the best rule of action
for gentlemen of his cloth under all circumstances, thought he could
not do wrong in throwing his other leg over his horse's back, and
following me, even at the risk of my having an aunt really dying at
Metz. Accordingly, he was instantly by our side, keeping up with
admirable perseverance the chattering, inquisitive character he had
assumed; and never ceasing to ask one question or another, till we
arrived at St. Ménéhould, where I again stopped for the night.</p>
<p>Wherever we had occasion to pause, even to water our horses, I
observed that my new companion was evidently known, though every one
affected to treat him as a stranger. Determined to get rid of him some
way, from this confirmation of the suspicions I entertained respecting
the honourable capacity he filled, as I was about to retire for the
night, I whispered to the host of St. Ménéhould, sufficiently low to
pass for a secret, yet sufficiently loud to be heard, to wake me at
half-past four the next morning. After this I proceeded to my room,
undressed myself, went to bed, and made Achilles extinguish the light,
as if I were about to sleep soundly through the night; but I took care
to abstain from closing an eye, though the temptation was very great
to do so; especially as I was entertained from the bed of my little
companion with a sort of music, which, however unmelodious, was very
soporific.</p>
<p>I had previously ascertained, that at one o'clock in the morning the
king's ordinary courier was expected to pass from Verdun; and,
consequently, that somebody would sit up in the inn to provide for his
accommodation. At midnight, therefore, I rose; and, waking Achilles,
bade him dress himself, and carry down the bags, all of which we
executed with the most marvellous silence, paid the landlord, who was
sleeping by the fire, saddled our own horses, and very soon were far
upon the road to Verdun, laughing over the surprise which our
talkative companion would feel the next morning, when he woke and
found us irretrievably gone. Achilles thought it a very good joke, and
I a very happy deliverance; and the dawn broke and found us
congratulating ourselves still: but what was my horror and surprise,
when, turning my head in the grey light of the morning, I saw the
brown pourpoint and the funnel-shaped riding boots, and the strong
little horse, and the detestable little man, not a hundred yards
behind me, cantering on as composedly as if nothing had occurred to
separate him for a moment from my fortunate face, as he called it.</p>
<p>"Ho, ho!" cried he, as he rode up, "I am not a man to force my society
upon any one; but I must say, it was a very ungentlemanlike thing to
get up in the night, and leave me behind, without so much as giving me
warning, or wishing me good evening; and I have ridden all this way,
sir, to tell you so."</p>
<p>We had already passed Clermont en Argonne, and were in the heart of
the wood that stretches round the village of Domballe, and which is
generally called the long wood of Domballe. I knew not what might be
the consequence of suffering this old man to follow me to Verdun,
where it was more than probable he would meet with many persons armed
with sufficient authority either to detain us, or to search our
persons, should he think fit to instigate such a proceeding; but I was
well aware that the life or death, the safety or destruction, of many
of the first persons in the realm depended on my passing free, and,
therefore, I took my determination at once. Glancing up and down the
road, to see that all was clear, I suddenly turned my horse upon him,
caught his bridle-rein with one hand, and his collar with the other,
and attempted to pull him off his horse. But I soon found that I had
to do with one who, though weak in comparison with myself, was
nevertheless skilful in the management of his horse and the use of his
arms.</p>
<p>In spite of my efforts, he contrived to bring his horse's head round,
to shake off my grasp, and drawing his sword, to stand upon the
defensive in so masterly a manner, that the farther attack became a
matter of no small difficulty.</p>
<p>I was now, however, too far committed to recede; but while I
considered the best means of mastering without injuring him, he seemed
to think I was daunted, and cried out, in a jeering tone, "Ho, ho!
your fortunate face is likely to get scratched, if you come near me.
Better ride on to see your aunt at Metz; or back to Paris, and
persuade the Cardinal to give you a place. See that it be not in the
Bastile, though."</p>
<p>"Ride in, Achilles, on your side," cried I, "while I ride in on mine.
Quick, we have no time to lose."</p>
<p>No sooner, however, did the old spy hear this order, and see it likely
to be executed, than turning his horse back towards Clermont, he gave
him full rein, and spurred off at all speed. This did not very well
answer my purpose, and dashing my spurs into my beast's sides, I made
him spring on like a deer, overtook the fugitive before he had gone
twenty yards, and once more catching his collar, brought him fairly to
the ground. It was no longer difficult to master his sword, and this
being done, he begged most pitifully for mercy.</p>
<p>"Mercy you shall have," replied I; "but, by Heaven! I will no longer
be teased with such detestable persecution. 'Tis insupportable, that a
peaceable man cannot ride along the high road on his own affairs,
without having a chattering old dotard sticking to him like a
horse-leech!"</p>
<p>Achilles had by this time ridden up, and taking some strong cord which
he happened to have with him, I pinioned the arms of my indefatigable
pursuer; and, leading him a little way into the wood, I tied him tight
to a tree, near a pile of faggots, which showed that the spot was so
far frequented, that he would not be left many hours in such an
unpleasant situation. My only object was to get rid of him; and this
being effected, I again mounted my horse, and pursued my journey to
Verdun, though, as I went, I could not help every now and then turning
my head and looking down the road, not a little apprehensive of seeing
the brown pourpoint and funnel-shaped boots pursuing me once more.</p>
<p>I arrived, however, unannoyed; and notwithstanding the prayers and
entreaties of Achilles, that I would but stay a quarter of an hour to
satisfy the cravings of an empty stomach, I instantly haled one of the
flat boats that lie below the bridge. The little man judging of my
intentions, spurred his horse as quick as light up to a <i>traiteur's</i>
on the opposite side of the way; and, before I had concluded a bargain
with the boatman to take us and our two horses to Sedan, he had
returned with an immense roasted capon and half a yard of bread.</p>
<p>Once in the boat, and drifting down the Meuse, I felt myself in
safety; and a full current and favourable wind bore us rapidly to
Sedan.</p>
<p>It was night, however, before we arrived, and we found the gates
closed and drawbridge raised; and all the most rigorous precautions
taken to prevent the entrance of any unknown person into the town
during the night.</p>
<p>"If you will disembark, sir," said the boatman, "and go round to the
land-gate, they will soon let you in; for there are parties of fifty
and sixty arriving every day; and Sedan will be too small to hold them
before long. However, they refuse no one admittance, for they say the
Count will soon take the field."</p>
<p>"Take the field!" said I, "and what for, pray?"</p>
<p>"Ah, that I don't know," answered the boatman; "folks say it is to
dethrone the Cardinal, and make the King prime-minister."</p>
<p>Whether this was a jest or a blunder, I did not well know; but bidding
the man put me on shore, I led out my roan, and mounting on the bank,
rode round to a little hamlet which had gathered on each side of the
road, at about a hundred yards from the Luxembourg gate. As I was
going to inquire at one of the houses, I saw a sentinel thrown out as
far as the foot of the glacis, and riding up to him, I asked if
admission was to be procured that night. He replied in the
affirmative, and proceeding to the gate, I was soon permitted to
enter, but immediately my bridle was seized on each side by a pikeman;
and the same being performed upon Achilles, we were led on to a small
guard-house, where we found a sleepy officer of the watch, who asked,
with a true official drawl, "Whom seek you in the good town of Sedan,
and what is your business here?"</p>
<p>"I seek his Highness the Count de Soissons," replied I; "and my
business with him is to speak on subjects that concern himself alone."</p>
<p>"Your name and rank?" demanded the officer.</p>
<p>"Louis de Bigorre, Count de l'Orme," replied I; "and this is my
servant, Achilles Lefranc."</p>
<p>"We shall soon have need of Achilles," said the officer, grinning. "I
wish, Monsieur le Comte, that you had brought a score or two such,
though he seems but a little one.--Mouchard, guide these two gentlemen
up to the castle. There is a pass."</p>
<p>There is almost always something sad and gloomy in the aspect of a
strange town at night. We seem in a dark, melancholy world, where
every step is amongst unknown objects, all wrapped up in a cold
repulsive obscurity; and I felt like one of the spirits of the
unburied, on the hopeless borders of Styx, as I walked on amidst the
tall, dark houses of Sedan, which, as far as any interest that I had
in them, were but so many ant-hills. Lighted by a torch that the
soldier who guided us carried, and followed, as I soon perceived, by
two other guards, we were conducted to the higher part of the town,
where the citadel is situated; and there, after innumerable signs and
countersigns, I was at last admitted within the walls, but not
suffered to proceed a step in advance, till such time as my name had
been sent in to the principal officer on guard.</p>
<p>I was thus detained half an hour, at the end of which time a page,
splendidly dressed, appeared, and conducted me to the interior of the
building, with a display of reverence and politeness which augured
well as to my farther reception. Achilles followed along the turnings
and windings of the citadel, till we came to a chamber, through the
open door of which a broad light streamed out upon the night, while a
hundred gay voices chattered within, mingled with the ringing,
careless laugh of men who, cutting off from themselves the regrets of
the past, and the fears of the future, live wise and happy in the
existence of the day.</p>
<p>"If you will do me the honour, sir," said the page, turning to my
little attendant, "to walk into that room, you will find plenty of
persons who will make you welcome to Sedan, while I conduct your
master to another chamber."</p>
<p>Achilles bowed to the ground, and answered the page in a speech
compounded suddenly from twenty or thirty tragedies and comedies; and
though, to confess the truth, it hung together with much the same sort
of uniformity as a beggar's coat, yet the attendant seemed not only
satisfied, but astonished, and made me, as master of such a learned
Theban, a lower reverence than ever, while he begged me to follow him.</p>
<p>Meet it as one will, there is always a degree of anxiety attached to
the first encounter with a person on whom our fate in any degree
depends, and I caught my heart beating even as I walked forward
towards the apartments of the Count de Soissons. We mounted a flight
of steps, and at the top entered an antechamber, where several
inferior attendants were sitting, amusing themselves at various games.
In the room beyond, too, the same sort of occupation seemed fully as
much in vogue; for, of twenty gentlemen that it contained, only two
were engaged in conversation, with some written papers between them;
while all the rest were rolling the dice, or dealing the cards, with
most industrious application. Several, however, suffered their
attention to be called off from the mighty interests of their game,
and raising their heads, gazed at me for a moment as I passed through
the room; and then addressed themselves to their cards again, with a
laugh or an observation on the new-comer, which, with the irritable
susceptibility of youth, I felt very well inclined to resent, if I
could have found any specious plea for offence.</p>
<p>The page still advanced; and, throwing open a door on the other side
of the room, led me through another small antechamber, only tenanted
by a youth who was nodding over a book, to a door beyond, which he
opened for me to pass, and left me to go in alone.</p>
<p>The room which I entered was a large, lofty saloon, hung with rich
tapestry, and furnished with antique chairs and tables, the dark hues
of which, together with the sombre aspect of the carved oak plafond,
gave a gloomy air of other days to the whole scene, so that I could
have fancied myself carried back to the reign of Francis I. A large
lamp, containing several lights, hung by a chain from the ceiling, and
immediately under this, leaning back in a capacious easy chair, sat a
gentleman with a book in his hand, which he was reading, and evidently
enjoying, for at the moment we entered he was laughing till the tears
rolled over his cheeks. As soon as he heard a step, however, he laid
down his book, and turned towards the door, struggling to compose his
countenance into some degree of gravity. As I advanced, he rose and
addressed me with that frank and pleasing affability which is the best
and surest key to the human heart.</p>
<p>"Count Louis de Bigorre, I believe?" he said; "you catch me in an
occupation which the proverb attributes to fools--laughing by myself;
but with such a companion as Sancho Panza, one may be excused, though
the same jest has made my eyes water a hundred times. However, be you
most welcome, for you have been a long-expected guest at Sedan. Yet
now you are arrived," he added, "however great the pleasure may be to
me, perhaps it would have been better for yourself had you remained
absent."</p>
<p>I replied, as a matter of course, that I could not conceive anything
better for myself, than the honour of being attached to the Count de
Soissons.</p>
<p>"Heaven only knows," said he, "what may be the event to you or me. But
sit down, and tell me when you left Paris--whom you saw there--and
what news was stirring in that great capital?"</p>
<p>"I have been four days on the road," replied I, bringing forward one
of the smaller chairs, so as to be sufficiently near the prince to
permit the conversation to flow easily, without approaching to any
degree of familiar proximity. "Perhaps," I continued, "as I rode my
own horses, I might not have had the honour of seeing your highness
till to-morrow, had I not found it necessary to hurry forward to avoid
a disagreeable companion."</p>
<p>"How so?" demanded the Count. "I hope no attempt was made to impede
your progress hither; for if that has been the case, it is time that I
should look to my communications with my other friends in France."</p>
<p>I gave the Count a somewhat detailed account of my adventures on the
road, that he might judge what measures were necessary to insure the
secrecy of his correspondence with Paris.</p>
<p>"So," cried he, laughing, "you have met with an old friend of ours
here, Jean le Hableur, as he is called. He is one of the Cardinal's
most daring and indefatigable spies; and few are there who have had
address and courage enough to baffle him as you have done. He traced
my poor friend Armand de Paul to the very gates of Sedan, found out
that he was carrying despatches to me, filched a letter from his
person containing much that should have remained secret, and having
made himself acquainted with his name, laid such information against
him, that Armand, at his return to Paris, was instantly arrested and
thrown into the Bastile. Why, the whole country between Verdun and
Paris is so famous, or rather infamous, from his continual presence,
that no one here dare pass by that road for fear of meeting with <i>Jean
le Hableur</i>. You should have gone by Mezières: but where are these
letters you speak of?"</p>
<p>I instantly produced them, and gave them into the hands of the count,
who read the letter from the Duke of Orleans with a sort of smile that
implied more scorn than pleasure. He then laid it down, saying aloud,
with rather a bitter emphasis, "My good cousin of Orleans!" He then
perused the epistle of Monsieur de Retz, and from time to time as he
did so turned his eyes upon me, as if comparing the character which he
therein found written down, with those ideas which he had already
begun to form of me himself, from that outward semblance that almost
always finds means to prejudice even the wisest and most cautious.
When he had concluded, he rose and walked once or twice across the
saloon, thoughtfully running his hand up and down the broad rich
sword-belt which hung across his breast, which I afterwards found was
habitual with him, when any consideration occupied him deeply.</p>
<p>I had risen when he rose, but still stood near the table, without,
however, turning my eyes towards it; for the letter of the Duke of
Orleans lying open upon it, I did not choose to be suspected of even
wishing to know its contents.</p>
<p>"Sit, sit, Count Louis!" said the prince, resuming his seat, and then
adding in a serious tone, but one of great kindness, "Monsieur de
Retz, I find, has not made you aware of all the circumstances of my
present situation; and perhaps has done wisely to leave that
communication to myself. From the great friendship and esteem--I may
say affection--with which my mother regards yours, I had not a
moment's hesitation in saying, that if you would join me here, you
should have the very first vacant post in my household, suitable to
your own high rank and the antiquity of your family. Since then, the
place of first gentleman of my bedchamber is void, and I have reserved
it for you; but as that is a situation which brings you so near my own
person, an unlimited degree of confidence is necessary between us.
Your rank, your family, the high name of your father and grandfather,
the admirable character which my mother attributes to yours, all seem
to vouch that you are--that you must be--everything noble and
estimable; but still there are two or three circumstances which you
must explain to me, before I can feel justified in trusting you with
that entire confidence I speak of. Monsieur de Retz says, you have
given him your history, which is a strange one--though how that can
be, I do not know, for you are but a young man, and can have, I should
imagine, but little to tell. He says, farther, that he met with you by
accident, and seems to hint that, when he did so, you had not intended
to join me here, as my mother informed me you would. He insinuates,
also, that you were somewhat indiscreet towards him, in speaking of
your own affairs. Explain all this to me, for there is something
evidently to be told. Make me your confidant without reserve, and, in
return, I will confide to you secrets perhaps of greater importance.
If you have nothing to tell but youthful errors, or imprudence, speak
without fear, as you would to a friend and brother; but," he added
more gravely, "if there is anything which affects your honour--which,
I may say, I am sure there is not--I ask no confidence of the kind."</p>
<p>"Had your highness not required it," replied I, "I should not have
presumed to intrude my private affairs upon your attention; but now
that I find you, most justly, think it right to assure yourself of the
character of one to whom you design the honour of being near your
person, I may be permitted to express what happiness and consolation I
feel, in being allowed to repose all my griefs and misfortunes in the
bosom of a prince universally beloved and esteemed." When I spoke thus
I did not flatter; and I concluded by giving as brief a sketch, but as
accurate a one as possible, of all the events which fill the foregoing
pages of these memoirs. "I will own, my lord," I added, "that I told a
part of this story to Monsieur de Retz, but only a small part; and
that was in a moment of joy, when, after having lived lonely and
miserable in a large city, for upwards of a month, I suddenly found
that I was expected and would be welcomed by a prince possessed of a
treasure which few princes, I am afraid, can boast--a generous and a
feeling heart. I was perhaps indiscreet in communicating even a part
to any one but your Highness; but you will not find that in your
service, I will be either indiscreet or unfaithful."</p>
<p>"I believe you," said the Count, "on my honour, I believe you; and De
Retz was too hasty in even calling you indiscreet; for your conduct
towards our friend Jean le Hableur proves sufficiently that you can
keep counsel. Your history has interested me more than I will tell you
at present. I feel for all you have suffered, and I would not for the
world barter that power of feeling for others, against the most
tranquil stoicism. Sympathy, however, though always agreeable to him
that excites it, is little pleasing to him who feels it, without he
can follow it up by some service to the person by whom it has been
awakened. I will try whether that cannot be the case with you;--but
you are tired with your long journey, and the night wears. Ho, without
there! send Monsieur de Varicarville hither. We will talk more
to-morrow, Monsieur de l'Orme, since such is the name you choose."</p>
<p>I rose to depart, but at the same time one of the gentlemen whom I had
seen in the outer chamber, conversing while the rest were gaming,
entered, and the Count introduced me to him, begging him to show me
all kindness and attention, as a person whom he himself esteemed and
loved.</p>
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