<h4>CHAPTER XLIV.</h4>
<br/>
<p>Scarcely had I entered my apartments in the Hôtel de Soissons, ere I
received a visit from Signor Vanoni, who informed me that the Countess
was somewhat offended at my having gone forth without rendering her my
first visit of ceremony. "She invites you, however," added the old
man, "to be present to-night in the observatory of Catherine de
Medicis, which you have doubtless remarked from your window, while I
endeavour to satisfy her, as far as my poor abilities go, in regard to
the future fate of her son, which she imagines may be learned from the
stars."</p>
<p>"And do you not hold the same opinion?" demanded I, seeing that Vanoni
had some hesitation in admitting his own belief in astrological
science. "I suppose there are at least as many who give full credit to
the pretensions of astrologers, as there are who doubt their powers?"</p>
<p>"My own opinion," replied the old man, "signifies little; I certainly
must have thought there was some truth in a science, before I made it
a profound study, which I have done in regard to astrology. However,
if you will do me the honour of following me, I will show you the
interior of the magnificent column which Catherine de Medicis
constructed, for the purpose of consulting those stars which are now,"
he added, with a smile, "growing as much out of fashion as her own
farthingale."</p>
<p>I followed him accordingly, and crossing the gardens, at the end of
one of the alleys, came upon that immense stone tower, in the form of
a column, which may be seen to the present day, standing behind the
Hôtel des Fermes. It was night, but beautifully clear and starlight;
and, looking up, I could see the tall dark head of that immense
pillar, rising like a black giant high above all the buildings around,
and I felt that much of the credence which astrologers themselves
placed in their own dreams, might well be ascribed to the influence of
the solemn and majestic scenes in which their studies were carried on.
I understood completely how a man of an ardent imagination, placed on
an eminence like that, far above a dull and drowsy world below, with
nothing around him but silence, and no contemplation but the bright
and beautiful stars, might dream grand dreams, and fancy that, in the
golden lettered book before his eyes, he could read the secret tale of
fate, and discover the immutable decrees of destiny. I did more: I
felt that, were I long there myself, I should become a dreamer too,
and give rein to imagination as foolishly as any one.</p>
<p>We now entered the tower by a strong door, at which were stationed two
small negro pages, each of whom, dressed in the Oriental costume, bore
a silver lamp burning with some sort of spirit, which gave a blue
unearthly sort of light to whatever they approached. Notwithstanding
my own tendency towards imaginativeness--perhaps I might say towards
superstition--I could not help smiling to see with what pains people
who wish to give way to their fancy, add every accessory which may
tend to deceive themselves. Anything strange, unusual, or mysterious,
is of great assistance to the imagination; and the sight of the two
small negroes, with their large rolling eyes and singular dress,
together with the purple gleam of the lamps in the gloomy interior of
the tower, were all well calculated to impress the mind with those
vague sort of sensations which, themselves partaking of the wild and
extraordinary, form a good preparation to ideas and feelings not quite
tangible to the calm research of reason.</p>
<p>Vanoni saw me smile; and as we went up the stairs of the tower, he
said, "That mummery is none of mine. The good Countess is resolved not
to let her imagination halt for want of aid: but the belief which I
give to the science of astrology is founded upon a different
principle--the historical certainty that many of the most
extraordinary predictions derived from the stars have been verified
contrary to all existing probabilities--a certainty as clearly
demonstrable as any other fact of history, and much more so than many
things to which men give implicit credence. In the search for truth,
we must take care to get rid of that worst of prejudices, because the
vainest--that of believing nothing but what is within the mere scope
of our own knowledge. Now it is as much a matter of history as that
Julius Cæsar once lived at Rome, that in this very tower an astrologer
predicted to Catherine de Medicis the exact number of years which each
of her descendants should reign. It has been one cause of the
disrepute into which the science of astrology has fallen," he added,
"that its professors mingled a degree of charlatanism with their
predictions, which they intended to give them authority, but which has
ultimately discredited the art itself. Thus the astrologer I speak of,
not contented with predicting what he knew would happen, and leaving
the rest to fate, must needs show to the queen the images of her sons,
in what he pretended to be a magic glass; and, by this sort of juggle
diminished his own credit; though the <i>procès verbal</i> of what
Catherine saw, taken down at the time, is now in the hands of the
Countess de Soissons."</p>
<p>"May I ask the particulars?" said I, growing somewhat interested in
the subject; "and also, whether this <i>procès verbal</i> is undoubtedly
authentic?"</p>
<p>"Beyond all question," replied the old man, leading the way into a
circular hall, at the very top of the tower. "It has descended from
hand to hand direct; so that no doubt of its being genuine can
possibly exist. What the queen saw was as follows: being placed
opposite a mirror, in this very chamber, after various fantastic
ceremonies unworthy of a man of real science, the astrologer called
upon the genius of Francis II. to appear, and make as many turns round
the chamber as he should reign years.</p>
<p>"Instantly Catherine beheld a figure, exactly resembling her son,
appear in the glass before her, and with a slow and mournful step take
one turn round the chamber and begin another; but before it was much
more than half completed, he disappeared suddenly; and another figure
succeeded, in which she instantly recognised her second son,
afterwards Charles IX. He encircled the hall fourteen times, with a
quick and irregular pace. After him came Henry III., who nearly
completed fifteen circles; when suddenly another figure, supposed to
be that of the Duke of Guise, came suddenly before him, and both
disappearing together, left the hall void, seemingly intimating to the
queen that there her posterity should end. There stands the mirror,"
he added, "but its powers are gone."</p>
<p>I approached the large ancient mirror with its carved ebony frame, to
which he pointed, and looked into it for a moment, my mind glancing
back to the days of Catherine de Medicis and her gay and vicious
court; and binding the present to the past, with that fine vague line
of associations whose thrilling vibrations form as it were the music
of memory; when suddenly, as if the old magician still exercised his
power upon his own mirror, the stately form of a lady dressed in long
robes of black velvet rose up before me in the glass; and with a start
which showed how much my imagination was already excited, I turned
round and beheld the Countess de Soissons.</p>
<p>Without waiting for the reprimand which, I doubted not, she intended
to bestow upon me, I apologised for having been rude enough to go
anywhere without first having paid my respects to herself, alleging
business of an important nature as my excuse.</p>
<p>"And pray, what important business can such a great man as yourself
have in our poor capital?" demanded the Countess, with a look of
haughty scorn, that had well nigh put to flight my whole provision of
politeness.</p>
<p>"I believe, Madam," replied I, after a moment's pause, "that Monsieur
le Comte your son informed you, by a note which I delivered, that I
had to come to Paris on affairs which he thought fit to intrust to
me."</p>
<p>"And a pretty personage he chose," interrupted the Countess. "But I
come not here to hear your excuses, youth. Has Signor Vanoni told you
the important purpose for which I commanded you to meet me here?"</p>
<p>I replied that he had not done so fully; and she proceeded to inform
me, that the learned Italian, having been furnished by her with all
the astrological particulars of my birth, which she had obtained from
my mother many years before, and also having received those of the
birth of her own son the Count de Soissons, he had chosen that evening
for the purpose of consulting the stars concerning our future fate.</p>
<p>It is needless to go through all the proceedings of the astrologer,
his prediction being the only interesting part of the ceremony. This
he delivered without any affectation or mummery, as the mere effect of
calculations; and his very plainness had something in it much more
convincing than any assumption of mystery; for it left me convinced of
his own sincere belief in what he stated. I forget the precise terms
of his prophecy in regard to the Count de Soissons; suffice it, that
it was such as left room for an easy construction to be put upon it,
shadowing out what was really the after-fate of the Prince to whom it
related. In regard to myself, he informed me that dangers and
difficulties awaited me, more fearful and more painful than any I had
hitherto encountered; but that with fortitude I should surmount them
all; and he added, that if I still lived after one month from that
day, my future fate looked clear and smiling. All who sought my life,
he said farther, should die by my hand, or fail in their attempt, and
that in marriage I should meet both wealth, and rank, and beauty.</p>
<p>Absurd as I knew the whole system to be, yet I own--man's weaknesses
form perhaps the most instructive part of his history, and therefore
it is, I say it--absurd, as I knew the whole system to be, yet I could
not help pondering over this latter part of the prediction, and
endeavoured to reconcile it in my own mind with the probabilities of
the future. My Helen had beauty, I knew too well. Wealth, I had heard
attributed to her; and rank, the Prince had promised to obtain. Oh
man, man! thou art a strange, weak being; and thy boasted reason is
but a glorious vanity, which serves thee little till thy passions have
left thee, and then conducts thee to a grave!</p>
<p>Hope, in my breast but a drowning swimmer, clung to a straw--to
worse--a bubble.</p>
<p>I followed the Countess de Soissons from the tower, thoughtful and
dreamy; and I believe the old man Vanoni was somewhat pleased to
witness the effect that his words had wrought upon me; though he could
little see the strange and mingled web that fancy and reason were
weaving in my breast--the golden threads of the one, though looking as
light as a gossamer, proving fully strong enough to cross the woof of
the other, and outshine it in the light of hope.</p>
<p>At the foot of the staircase we found the Countess's women waiting;
and having suffered me to conduct her to the door of the Hôtel de
Soissons, she gave me my dismissal with the same air of insufferable
haughtiness, and retired into the house. As my apartments lay in one
of the wings, I was again crossing the garden to reach them, when
suddenly a figure glided past me, which for a moment rooted me to the
ground. It was in vain I accused myself of superstition, of madness,
of folly. The belief still remained fixed upon my mind, that I had
seen Jean Baptiste Arnault, whom I had shot with my own hand. The moon
had just risen--the space before me was clear; and if ever my eyes
served me in the world, it was the figure of him I had killed that
passed before me.</p>
<p>Without loss of time, I made my way to my own apartments; and pale,
haggard, and agitated, I cast myself on a seat, while little Achilles,
in no small surprise, gazed on me with open eyes, and asked a thousand
times what he could do for me.</p>
<p>"It was he!" muttered I, without taking any notice of the little
man.--"It was certainly Jean Baptiste Arnault, if ever I beheld him."</p>
<p>"My brother!" exclaimed Achilles; "I thought he was at Lourdes, with
that most respectable gentleman his father, my mother's husband that
was; and my parent that ought to have been--I certainly thought he was
at Lourdes."</p>
<p>"He is in the grave, and by my hand," replied I, scarcely
understanding what he had said; but gradually, as I grew calm, my mind
took in his meaning, and I exclaimed, "Your brother! Was Jean Baptiste
Arnault your brother?"</p>
<p>"That he certainly was, by the mother's side," replied the little
player, "and as good a soul he was, when a boy, as ever existed." An
explanation of course ensued; and on calling to mind the little man's
history, I found that no great wit would have been necessary to have
understood his connection with Arnault before. A more painful
narrative followed on my part, for Achilles pressed me upon the words
I had let fall. I could not tell him the circumstances of his
brother's death--that would have been too dreadful for my state of
mind at the moment; but I assured him that it had been accidental; and
I told him the regret, the horror, the grief, which it had occasioned
me ever since.</p>
<p>"Poor Jean Baptiste!" cried the little player, with more feeling than
I thought he possessed, "he was as good a creature as ever lived; and
now, when I hear that he is dead, all his tricks of boyhood, and all
the happy hours when we played together, come up upon my mind, and I
feel--what perhaps I never felt rightly before--what a sad thing it is
to be an outcast, denied, and forgotten, and alone, without one tie of
kindred between me and all the wide world." And the tears came up into
his eyes as he spoke. "Do not let me vex you, monseigneur," continued
he: "I am sure you would harm no one on purpose; and you have been to
me far better than kind and kindred; for you alone, on all the earth,
have borne with me, and showed me unfailing kindness; but yet I cannot
help regretting poor Jean Baptiste."</p>
<p>It was a bitter and a painful theme; and we both dropped it as soon as
it was possible. Ideas, however, were re-awakened in my mind, that
defied sleep; and though I persuaded myself that the figure I had seen
was but the effect of an imagination over-excited by what had passed
during the day, and the thoughts that had lately occupied me; yet, as
I lay in my bed, all the horrid memories, over which time had begun to
exercise some softening power, came up as sharp and fresh as if the
blood was still flowing that my hand had shed.</p>
<p>I rose late, and while Achilles was aiding me to dress, I saw that
there was something on his mind that he wished to say. At length it
broke forth. "I would not for the world speak to you, monseigneur, on
a subject that is so painful," said the little player, with a delicacy
of which I had hardly judged him capable; "but this morning something
extraordinary has happened, that I think it best to tell you. As I was
standing but now at the gate of the Hôtel de Soissons, who should pass
by but Arnault the old procureur. He stopped suddenly, and looked at
me; and as I thought he knew me, though in all probability I was
mistaken, I spoke to him, and we had a long conversation. Me he seemed
to care very little about, but he asked me a world of questions about
you; and he seemed to know all that you were doing, a great deal
better than I did myself. I assured him, however, that the death of
poor Jean Baptiste was entirely accidental, as you told me; and I
related to him all that you had suffered on that account, and how
often, even now, it would make you as grave and as melancholy as if it
were just done. I wanted him very much to tell me where he lived, but
he would not; and took himself off directly I asked the question."</p>
<p>It gave me some pain to hear that Achilles had now positively informed
Arnault that my hand had slain his son. Helen could never be mine; I
felt it but too bitterly, as the dreams which the astrologer's
prediction had suggested died away in my bosom--and yet I shrank from
the idea of her knowing, that he whom she had loved was the murderer
of her brother. I could not, however, blame Achilles for what he had
done. The name of Helen had never been mentioned between us; and when
I thought that she was <i>his</i> sister--the sister of my own servant,
though it changed no feeling in my breast towards her--though it left
her individually lovely, and excellent, and graceful as ever in my
eyes, yet it gave new strength to the vow I had made to obey my
mother's last injunctions, by adding another to the objections which
she would have had to that alliance. The conviction that we were fated
never to be united took firm possession of my mind. Destiny seemed
willing to spare me even the pain of faint hopes, by piling up
obstacle on obstacle between us; but I resolved that, if I might never
call her I loved my own, I would give the place which she had filled
in my heart to no other. I would live solitary and unbound by those
ties which she alone could have rendered delightful. I would pass
through life without the touch of kindred or of wedded love, and go
down to the grave the last of my race and name.</p>
<p>Such were my resolutions; and, variable and light as my character was
in some degree, I believe that I should have kept them--ay!
notwithstanding the quick and ardent blood of youth, and my own
proneness to passion and excitement.</p>
<p>In the course of the morning, I visited Monsieur de Retz; and,
according to the commands of Monsieur le Comte, we mutually
communicated the steps we had taken--though I believe De Retz informed
me of the success which had attended his negotiations, more to force
me into a return of confidence than for any other reason.</p>
<p>"From the letter which Monsieur de Cramail slipped into my hand
yesterday," said he, "as well as from what he told me <i>vivâ voce</i>, I
can now safely say the Bastille is our own. Indeed, it is wonderful
with what facility this party of prisoners dispose of their place of
confinement; but the Count tells me here, that he has won the officers
of the garrison, and the officers have won the soldiers--that, in
short, all hearts are for Monsieur le Comte, and that it only wants a
first success to make all hands for him too. Oh, my dear De l'Orme,"
he burst forth, "what a wonderful thing is that same word success! But
once attach it to a man's name, and you shall have all the world kneel
to serve him, and laud him to the skies--let him but fail, and the
whole pack will be upon him, like a herd of hungry wolves. Give me the
man that, while success is doubtful, stands my friend, who views my
actions and my worth by their own intrinsic merit, and pins not his
faith upon that great impostor success, whose favour or whose frown
depends not on ourselves but circumstance."</p>
<p>As soon as it was dusk, I went alone to my little lodging in the Rue
des Prêtres St. Paul; and, after waiting for about half an hour,
received the visit of my two most respectable followers, Combalet and
Jacques Mocqueur. As they entered, I saw by a certain smirking air of
satisfaction on their countenances, that they had been successful in
their negotiation, which they soon informed me was the case.</p>
<p>"We have permission from his most acuminated majesty of the Huns,"
said Jacques Mocqueur, "to introduce Monseigneur le Comte de l'Orme
into his famous palace called Château Escroc, and to naturalise him a
Hun, upon the reasonable condition of his submitting to be
blindfolded, as he is conducted through the various passes of the
country of the Huns."</p>
<p>"In regard to being blindfolded," replied I, "I have not the least
objection, as it is but natural you should take means to prevent your
secret resorts from being betrayed; but I must first understand
clearly what you mean by my being naturalised a Hun, before I submit
to any such proceeding."</p>
<p>"'Tis a most august and solemn proceeding," replied Combalet de
Carignau, "and many of the first nobility have submitted to it without
blushing."</p>
<p>"His infirmity! his infirmity!" cried Jacques Mocqueur. "I pray your
lordship would not forget his infirmity! Not a noble in these
or former times ever thought of submitting to the ceremony but
yourself;--but after all, it is but a ceremony, which binds you to
nothing."</p>
<p>"If that be the case," replied I, "I will go; but be so good as to
remark, that I have nothing upon my person but the ten gold pieces
which I have promised your worthy monarch; and I beg that you will
give notice thereof to the worthy corporation I am going to meet, lest
the devil of cupidity should tempt them to play me foul."</p>
<p>"For that, we are your lordship's sureties," said Combalet. "I should
like to see the man who would wag a finger against you, while we stood
by your side."</p>
<p>"Your lordship does us injustice," said Jacques Mocqueur, in a less
swaggering tone. "There is honour, even to a proverb, amongst the
gentlemen you are going to meet; but if you are at all afraid, one of
us will stay till your return, at the Hôtel de Soissons, where our
friend the archer informed us you really lodged."</p>
<p>"I am not the least afraid," replied I: "but I spoke, knowing that
human nature is fallible; and that the idea of gold might raise up an
evil spirit amongst some of your companions, which even you might find
it difficult to lay. However, lead on, I will follow you."</p>
<p>"I question much whether the council has yet met," replied Combalet;
"but we shall be some time in going, and therefore we may as well
depart." We accordingly proceeded into the street, where I went on
first, followed, scarcely a step behind, by my two bravoes, in the
manner of a gentleman going on some visit accompanied by his lackeys.
At every corner of each street, either Combalet or his companion
whispered to me the turning I was to take; and thus we proceeded for
near half an hour, till I became involved in lanes and buildings with
which I was totally unacquainted, notwithstanding my manifold
melancholy rambling through Paris, when I was there alone and
tormented with gloomy thoughts that drove me forth continually, for
mere occupation. The houses seemed to grow taller and closer together,
and in many of the lanes through which we passed, I could have touched
each side of the street, by merely stretching out my hands. Darkness,
too, reigned supreme, so that it was with difficulty that I saw my way
forward; and certainly should often not have known that there was any
turning near, had it not been for the whisper of mv companions, "To
the right!" or "To the left!"</p>
<p>The way was long, too, and tortuous, winding in and out, with a
thousand labyrinthine turnings, as if it had been built on purpose to
conceal every kind of vice, and crime, and wretchedness, amongst its
obscure involutions.</p>
<p>Every now and then from the houses as I passed burst forth the sound
of human voices; sometimes in low murmurs, sometimes in loud and
boisterous merriment; and sometimes even in screams and cries of
enmity or pain, that made my blood run cold. Still, however, I pursued
my purpose. I could but lose my life--and life to me had not that
value which it possesses with the happy and the prosperous. I would
have sold it dear, nevertheless, and was well prepared to do so, for I
was armed with dagger, sword, and pistol; so that, setting the object
to be gained by murdering me, which could but be my clothes, with the
risk and bloodshed of the attempt, I judged myself very secure, though
I found clearly that I was plunging deeper and deeper every moment
among those sinks of vice, iniquity, and horror, with which some part
of every great city is sure to be contaminated.</p>
<p>Suddenly, as I was proceeding along one of these narrow streets, a
hand was laid firmly, but not rudely, on my breast; and a voice asked,
"Where go ye?" Jacques Mocqueur stepped forward instantly, and
whispering a word to my interrogator, I was suffered to proceed. In a
few minutes after, we arrived at a passage, where my bravoes informed
me that it would be necessary to bandage my eyes, which was soon done;
and being conducted forward, I perceived that we went into a house,
the entrance of which was so narrow, that it was with difficulty
Combalet could turn sufficiently to lead me onward by the hand. I took
care as we went to count the number of paces, and to mark well the
turnings, so that, I believe, I could have retraced my steps had it
been necessary.</p>
<p>After turning four times, we once more emerged into the open air, as
if we crossed an inner court, and I could hear a buzz of many voices,
seemingly from some window above. We now again entered a house; and,
having turned twice, the bravoes halted, and I heard an old woman's
voice cry in a ragged, broken tone, "They are waiting for you, you two
lazy jessame flinchers. And what new devil have you brought with
you?--A pretty piece of flesh, I declare! Why, he has a leg and an arm
like the man of bronze."</p>
<p>While these observations were being made upon my person, my two worthy
retainers were detaching the bandage from my eyes; and as soon as I
could see, I found myself standing in a large vestibule at the foot of
a staircase. An iron lamp hung from the ceiling, and by its light I
beheld a hideous old woman, in that horrid state where mental
imbecility seemed treading on the heels of every sort of vice. Her
high aquiline nose, her large bleared, dull eyes, swimming between
drunkenness and folly, her wide mouth, the lips of which had long
since fallen in over her toothless gums, all offered now a picture of
the most degrading ugliness; while, with a kind of gloating gaze,
she examined me from head to foot, crying from time to time, "A
pretty piece of flesh!--ay, a pretty piece of flesh!--nice devil's
food!--will you give me a kiss, young Beelzebub?" And throwing her
arms suddenly round me, she gave me a hug that froze the very blood in
my veins.</p>
<p>I threw her from me with disgust; and, in her state of
semi-drunkenness, she tottered back and fell upon the pavement, giving
a great scream; on which a man, who had been lying in a corner totally
unseen by me, sprang up, and drawing his sword, rushed upon me,
crying, "Morbleu, Maraud! How dare you strike Mother Marinette?"</p>
<p>It was a critical moment. To do anything with the wild and lawless, it
needs to show one's self as fierce and fearless as themselves. My
sword was out in an instant; and knowing that sometimes a display of
daring courage, with men like those amongst whom I was placed, will
touch the only feelings that remain in their seared and blackened
hearts, and do more with them than any other earthly quality, I cried
out to my two retainers, who were hurrying to separate us, "Let him
alone! let him alone!--We are man to man. I only ask fair play."</p>
<p>"Fair play! Give him fair play!" cried Combalet and his companion to
half a dozen ruffians that came rushing down the stairs at the noise.
"Give the Count fair play!"</p>
<p>"It's a quarrel about a lady!" cried Jacques Mocqueur. "An affair of
honour! A duello! Let no one interrupt them."</p>
<p>In the meanwhile my antagonist lunged at me with vain fury. He was not
unskilful in the use of his weapon, but his was what may be called
bravo-fencing, very well calculated for street brawls, where five or
six persons are engaged together, but not fit to be opposed to a
really good swordsman, calmly hand to hand. His traverses were loose,
and he bore hard against my blade, so that at last, suddenly shifting
my point, I deceived him with a half time, and not willing exactly to
kill him, brought him down with a severe wound in his shoulder.</p>
<p>"Quarter for Goguenard! Quarter for Goguenard!" cried the respectable
spectators, several of whom had, during the combat, served me
essentially by withholding Madame Marinette (the beldame whose
caresses I had repulsed so unceremoniously) from exercising her talons
upon my face. My sword was instantly sheathed, and my antagonist being
raised, looked at me with a grim grin, but without any apparent
malice. "You've sliced my bacon," cried he; "but, <i>Ventre saint
gris!</i> you are a tight hand, and I forgive you."</p>
<p>The wounded man was now carried off to have his wound <i>puttied</i>, as he
expressed it; and I was then ushered up stairs into a large room,
wherein all the swash-bucklers, that the noise of clashing swords had
brought out like a swarm of wasps when their nest is disturbed, now
hastened to take their seats round a large table that occupied the
centre of the hall. In place of the pens, the ink-horns, and the
paper, which grace the more dignified council boards of more modern
nations, that of the worthy Huns was only covered, in imitation of
their ancestors, with swords and pistols, daggers and knives, bottles,
glasses, and flagons, symbolical of the spirit in which their laws
were conceived, and the sharpness with which they were enforced.</p>
<p>At the head of the table, when we entered, were seated four or five of
the sager members of the council, who had not suffered their attention
to be called from their deliberations like the rest; and in a great
arm-chair raised above the rest was placed a small old man, with sharp
grey eyes, a keen pinched nose, and a look of the most infallible
cunning I ever beheld in mortal countenance. He wore his hat buttoned
with a large jewel, and was very splendidly attired in black velvet;
so that, from every circumstance of his appearance, I was inclined to
believe I beheld in him that very powerful and politic monarch called
the King of the Huns.</p>
<p>As Combalet de Carignan and Jacques Mocqueur were leading me forward
in state to present me to the monarch, he rose, and stroking his short
grey beard from the root to the point between his finger and thumb, he
demanded, with an air of dignity, "What noise was that I heard but
now, and who dared to draw a sword within the precincts of our royal
palace?"</p>
<p>This question was answered by Jacques Mocqueur with the following
delectable sentence:--"May it please your majesty, the case was, that
old Marinette did the sweet upon the Count here, who buffed her a
swagger that earthed her marrow-bones; whereupon mutton-faced
Goguenard aired his pinking-iron upon the count, and would have made
his chanter gape, if the Count had not sliced his bacon, and brought
him to kiss his mother."</p>
<p>This explanation, however unintelligible to me at the time, seemed
perfectly satisfactory to the great potentate to whom it was
addressed; who, nodding to me with a gracious inclination, replied,
"The Count most justly punished an aggression upon the person of an
ambassador. Let our secretary propose the oaths to the count, our
cupbearer bring forward our solemn goblet, and let the worthy nobleman
take the oaths, and be naturalized a true and faithful Hun."</p>
<p>A meagre gentleman in a black suit now advanced towards me, with a
book in his hand, and proposed to me to swear that I would be
thenceforward a true and faithful subject to the mighty monarch,
François St. Maur, King of the Huns; that I would act as a true and
loyal Hun in all things, but especially in submitting myself to all
the laws of the Commonwealth, and the ordinances of the King in
council; as well as in keeping inviolably secret all the proceedings
of the Huns, their places of resort, their private signs, signals,
designs, plans, plots, and communications, with a great variety of
other particulars, all couched-in fine technical language, which took
nearly a quarter of an hour in repeating.</p>
<p>Greater part of this oath I took the liberty of rejecting, giving so
far in to their mockery of ceremony, as to state my reasons to the
monarch with an affectation of respect that seemed to please him not a
little; and, though one or two of the ruffians thought fit to grumble
at any concessions being made to me, it was nevertheless arranged that
the oath should be curtailed in my favour, to a solemn vow of secrecy,
which I willingly took.</p>
<p>An immense wrought goblet of silver was now presented to me, which I
should have imagined to be a chalice filched from some church, had it
not been for various figures of bacchanals and satyrs richly embossed
on the stalk and base. I raised it to my lips, drinking to the monarch
of the Huns, who received my salutation standing; but the very first
mouthful showed me that it was filled with ardent spirits; and
returning it to the cup-bearer, I begged that I might be accommodated
with wine, for that there was quite enough in the cup to incapacitate
me for fulfilling the important mission with which I was charged.</p>
<p>A loud shout at my flinching from the cup was the first reply; and one
of the respectable cut-throats exclaimed from the other side of the
table, "Give some milk and water to the chickenhearted demoiselle."</p>
<p>I had already had enough of brawling for the night; and as no farther
object was to be gained by noticing the ruffian's insult at the time,
I took the cup that was now presented to me filled with wine, and
drank health to the King of the Huns, without seeming to hear what had
been said.</p>
<p>The most delicate part of my mission still remained to be fulfilled,
namely, to explain to the chief of all the thieves, swindlers, and
bravoes in Paris, for such was the King of the Huns, the objects of
the Count de Soissons, without putting his name and reputation in the
power of every ruffian in the capital; and as I looked round the room,
which was now crowded with men of every attire and every carriage, I
found a thousand additional reasons in each villanous countenance for
being as guarded and circumspect as possible.</p>
<p>How I should have acquitted myself Heaven only knows; but a great deal
of trouble was taken off my hands by the King of the Huns himself;
who, after regarding me for a moment with his little grey eyes, that
seemed to enter into one's very heart, and pry about in every secret
corner thereof, opened the business himself, and left my farther
conduct comparatively easy.</p>
<p>"Count de l'Orme," said he, in a loud voice, while all the rest kept
silence, "you have sought an interview with us, and you have gained
it. Ordinary politicians would now use all their art to conceal what
they know of your purpose, and to make you unfold to them more perhaps
than you wished; but we, with the frankness that characterises a great
nation, are willing to show you that we are already aware of much more
than you imagine. You sent word to us that you came on a mission from
a prince. We will save you the trouble of naming him. He is Louis de
Bourbon, Count de Soissons!"</p>
<p>A murmur of surprise at the penetration of the king ran through the
assembly; but to me his means of information on this point were
evident enough. The archer had communicated to the bravoes that,
though I received them in the Rue Prêtres St. Paul, I lodged myself at
the Hôtel de Soissons. They had informed their chief of the same, and
by an easy chain of conclusions he had fallen upon the right person as
my principal.</p>
<p>How he came by the rest of his information I do not know; but he
proceeded. "His highness the Count de Soissons is universally loved,
in the same proportion that the minister, his enemy, is hated; and
there is not one man amongst my subjects who does not bear the
greatest affection to the one, and the greatest abhorrence towards the
other."</p>
<p>A loud shout of assent interrupted him for a moment; but when it had
subsided he went on. "The Count is, we are well informed, preparing on
all hands for open war with the cardinal; and we also know, that there
is more than one agent working privately in this city for his service.
We are not amongst those who will be most backward, or most
inefficient in his cause; and we only wish to know, in the first
instance, what he expects of us. Not that I mean to say," he added,
"that we do not intend therein to have some eye to our own interests;
yet, nevertheless, the Count will not find us hard or difficult to
deal with, as our enemies would have men believe."</p>
<p>In answer to this speech, I went directly to the point, finding that
all diplomatising on the subject was spared me. I therefore told the
King of the Huns that he was perfectly right in the view he had taken
of the case; and that as the Count was now driven to extremity by the
Cardinal, it was natural that he should take every means to strengthen
his own cause. Of course, under these circumstances, I added, he would
not think of neglecting so large and respectable a body as the Huns,
and had therefore sent me to pray them, in case of a rising in the
city of Paris on his part, to support his friends with all their aid
and influence, and to embarrass his enemies by all those means which
no men knew so well how to employ as themselves. I farther added, that
if, under the permission and sanction of their government, any of his
Majesty's subjects would enrol themselves as men at arms, to serve the
Count de Soissons under my command, the prospect of vast advantages
was before them; but that, of course, I should require those men who,
having some knowledge of military discipline and habits, would not
need the long and tedious drilling of young recruits.</p>
<p>"Such have we amongst our subjects in plenty," replied the King of the
Huns. "We are, as I need not inform you, essentially a military
nation; and for our own credit, the troops we furnish to our
well-beloved cousin, Monsieur le Comte, shall be of the best quality."</p>
<p>A murmuring conversation now took place through the assembly, each man
expressing to his neighbour his opinion of what had just passed, in a
low voice, that left nothing audible but the various curses and
imprecations with which they seasoned their discourse, and which
seasoning certainly predominated over the matter. This left me,
however, an opportunity of gaining some private speech of the king,
with whom, in a very short time, I contrived to settle all
preliminaries. I paid my ten louis into the treasury, and promised
twenty more, in case of his showing himself active and serviceable in
the rising of the metropolis. He, on his part, engaged to select and
send to a certain point on the frontiers, as many horsemen as he could
rely upon, who were to take service with me, and to bind themselves by
oath to obey my commands for one month. For the first month, all I
could promise in regard to pay was twenty crowns per man; but this
seemed quite satisfactory; and I believe the plunder to be expected,
whichever party gained the day, was much more tempting in their eyes
than the ostensible reward. The rendezvous was named at the little
village of Marigny, beyond Mouzon, just over the frontier; and it was
agreed that the king should send me, from time to time, a note of the
numbers he despatched; and that on my arrival at Marigny I should
disburse to each man his pay in advance, on his taking the stipulated
oath, and showing himself ready for action, armed with sword, pistol,
dagger, morion, back and breast pieces, and musketoon. The number
which his most Hun-like majesty thought he could promise was about
three hundred men; and I very naturally supposed that I should have
somewhat of a difficult command over men who had long submitted to no
law but their own will.</p>
<p>I knew, also, that so trifling an incident as my having refused to
pledge the King in his goblet of strong waters might do much harm to
my future authority; and, therefore, after having risen to go, I ran
my eye down the opposite side of the table, and said in aloud voice,
"Some one, about an hour ago, called me 'a chicken-hearted
demoiselle.' If he will stand out here in the free space, I will give
him the most convincing proof that my heart is as stout as his own,
and my hand not that of a girl."</p>
<p>A fellow with the form and countenance of an ox-slayer instantly
started up, but his companions thrust him down again, several voices
crying out, "No, no! down with him! the Count is no flincher; look at
Goguenard, the best man amongst us, floored like a sheep!"</p>
<p>"If any proof were wanting," said Jacques Mocqueur, stepping forward,
"to establish the noble Count's slashing qualities, I could give it. I
am known to be a tough morsel for any man's grinders; and yet, once
upon a day, the Count did for two of us singlehanded. He sent Captain
Von Crack out of the window sack-of-wheat fashion, and left me with
the flesh of my arm gaping like an empty flagon."</p>
<p>This matter being settled, I drank a parting cup with his majesty, to
the prosperity of the Huns, which was of course received with a loud
shout; and, conducted by Combalet de Carignan and his companion, I
left Château Escroc with my whole frame fevered and burning, from the
excitement I had undergone.</p>
<p>I have only farther to remark, that, according to the oath of secrecy
which I had taken, I should not now have placed even this interview on
paper, had not that respectable body with whom I passed the evening
been discovered some years since, and totally routed out of all their
dens. The fraternity of the Huns will doubtless ever exist in Paris;
but, thanks to the exertions of our late energetic criminal
lieutenant, they are now, like the Jews, a dispersed and wandering
people, each depending on his own resources, and turning the public to
his own particular profit.</p>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />