REASONS OF STATE
The interior of the King's cabinet contrasted strikingly with the apartment we have just left. Here we find a veritable museum arranged by an intelligent hand which has collected something of the most beautiful in each esthetic epoch.
The Monarch stretched upon his invalid's couch, surrounded by cushions, his limbs bandaged, converses with his Minister of Police. A fire glows on the hearth, notwithstanding the warmth of the apartment, all the windows and doors being closed. 'Tis the loving heart of the young Countess Cayla that has designed the arrangement of furniture, etc., with the effect of securing the greatest comfort.
Disease makes noticeable ravages in the royal countenance, which, though still expressing a keen intellectual and reflective penetration, even a repressed enthusiasm, begins to become bloated by an insidious edema. The eyes, back of their swollen lids, betray blood decomposition. When the King changes his position, a medicinal odor floats through the elegant apartment, notwithstanding the profusion of rare flowers in alabaster Pompeian vases,—prodigies of antique art,—flowers, brought by the Countess to her invalid friend.
The King economized his conversational forces, replying only when necessity compelled: his words were always affluent and opportune. He listened attentively to the Minister, who was saying:
"Greater danger has never threatened the monarchy. I have long foreseen the evil. 'Tis of many years' standing. My predecessors—I must do them justice—took every precaution to obviate the result. Le Coq in Berlin endeavored to prevent what today seems imminent."
Lecazes took a pinch of snuff, and resumed:
"Your Majesty cannot doubt my zeal and activity. My devotion to the cause has been demonstrated. I have never vacillated in critical moments, never weakly yielded to circumstances. But in spite of my efforts and circumspection, a catastrophe stares us in the face."
The King listened attentively and the Minister went on.
"I have endeavored to spare your Majesty the annoyance of listening to these alarms. I come now to appeal for your help, for only you may avert the danger.
"One of my deputies, the most resourceful of all, my right hand, indeed, by name Volpetti, who for a time was in the service of Caroline, Queen of Sicily;—this Volpetti has for years tracked that—that dangerous creature. So far he has subjected him to living in a position in which mischief was impossible of accomplishment. He has been incapacitated for the attaining of any real advantage—This Volpetti was bequeathed me by Fouché. He was employed in the surveillance of the individual in question when I became Minister. During Napoleon's ascendancy, Volpetti kept this individual well concealed in a Vincennes dungeon; but the Empress Josephine, with the end of employing him as a weapon in view of the contingent divorce, adopted the policy of befriending and, finally of liberating him. After leaving Vincennes, our individual turns up in Prussia. As he had no civil status, he could give no trouble. He was nobody. At that time, Volpetti conceived a brilliant idea, that of playing the friend. He lent him a passport bearing a fictitious name and authorizing him to reside in Spandau. The individual has never been able to shuffle off his name. O there is no prison so secure as a name."
"Nevertheless," interposed the King, "when one possesses documents proving one's identity—"
"I am coming to that," said the Minister, waving his hand in order to dispel apprehension.
"The preservation of those documents, thro all these years of vicissitudes is the knot which I cannot unravel. Whence come they? I conjecture they procede from Barras (with his mania for collections), and that he gave them to Josephine. She in turn placed them with Montmorin, who planned his escape and who was subsequently killed in a skirmish. Those papers constituted an infernal magazine which threatened to explode at any moment. Volpetti rested not in his search for them, but they were skilfully concealed. As a last resort, he insinuated into the life of the individual a woman, excellent hearted and who was persuaded that she rendered a veritable service by advising him to deliver the papers to Le Coq."
"And did he?" inquired the King in graceful irony. "I wager that the woman attained her ends."
"Yes, your Majesty, he delivered certain papers, but the most important ones he kept—the devil knows where. He preserves them to this day in a casket."
"Next to woman, the gravest perils to man are documents," murmured the King in persistent irony.
"Realizing the impossibility of recovering the papers from Le Coq, the individual subsided. He is of a pacific temperament, tending to inaction and retirement. He married and devoted himself to his trade of watch-making—"
"'Tis a family proclivity," observed the King.
"I was saying he is devoted to watch-making and the care of his several children, among whom there is a daughter, who as a contrast to her father's impassivity, is action and energy incarnate. It was his ill fortune to be indicted as an incendiary and counterfeiter and to serve sentence at hard labor in Silesia—"
"Did this ill fortune come to him in consequence of the cautious policy of my astute friend and Minister, Lecazes? Let us have no figures of rhetoric here."
"Your Majesty, when matters arrange themselves in favorable combinations, a wise man loses no time in hesitation. The sentence passed was so favorable to our cause, was so strong a card to reserve, should the individual carry his claims before a tribunal. Think of it! Counterfeiter, incendiary!—sufficient, I should think, to deter members of the nobility from advocating his cause, should they be inclined to do so. Should we complain if hams be rained into our mouths? Shall we bewail the great number of impostors and dupes who have appeared from all quarters, finally occasioning so much skepticism among the people that one more or less makes no difference to them?"
Again the King smiled.
"Come," said he, delighting to pierce the diplomatic artifices of his minister, "I agree that we have no reason to complain; above all when it appears that among the horde of spurious Dauphins there is one bearing marks not unknown to us. Let us talk as men who have learned to vanquish their conscience; surely we shall not display such bad taste as to become pedantic moralists."
Lecazes smiled in his turn.
"I do not think," continued the royal invalid in whimsical banter, "that you class me among the abettors of my nephew; Ferdinand's ardent wish is to embrace his recovered cousin. Lecazes, prepare to hand in your resignation on the day of my death."
"Happily for us, your Majesty is much stronger than you yourself believe. Long life and long reign have you in prospect."
Having delivered himself of this flattery, he resumed:
"It is stated in the court records that the chief cause of the individual's condemnation was the indignation produced by his absurd pretensions. He was not proved guilty. He stated that he had been born a prince and this lost him the respect of the court. My complaint of the proceedings is that the sentence was for so brief a term. To imprison a man for a season is only to make him more set in his convictions. When liberated he is more dangerous than ever. If your Majesty were to ask my opinion of this man, I should say he was less knave than visionary. Owing to the stupidity of the Prussian police, it has been impossible to discover a trace of his ancestry or place of birth. He claims that this failure to produce confuting evidence proves his claim, and he speaks logically there."
"He does indeed."
"Well, our—maniac left prison more than ever determined to sustain his pretensions. To the children that were successively born to him he gave such names as Amélie (in memory of the flight); Marie Antoinette, Charles, Edward. This may seem inoffensive, but 'tis far from being so. Persistency in this fixed idea has continued to envelop him more and more in a tattered purple mantle. His sceptre is a reed in truth, but it gives him, nevertheless, the appearance of a persecuted martyr. Your Majesty will agree that our individual is not to be placed in the same category as the multitude whom, after disproving, we have endeavored to construct into a parapet serving as a blockade to effectually shut out possible pretenders bearing credentials having the appearance of genuiness."
"I agree with you that this is a grave matter."
"That aureole of martyrdom elicits faith and devotion. For example, when the individual on leaving prison established himself in Crossen, with not a sou in his purse, he found there a magistrate who gave him a large sum of money and became a champion of his cause. His enthusiasm became so pronounced that the prince of Coralath's secretary was obliged to observe to the fellow that Prussia contained dungeons for the reception of those who meddle in what does not concern them. The remark having no effect, the magistrate soon received in heaven the reward for his devotion to the cause."
"Did he die?" inquired the King.
"He did, your Majesty, from a sudden illness. We have reason to believe that he and no other was the guardian of the cursed documents, those explosives. When dying, he spoke incoherently of the prince's papers."
"Why was the opportunity not improved?"
"Unfortunately I was not on hand. The police got wind of the death and confiscated what papers they could lay their hands on, but those desired were evidently well concealed. The German police have leaden feet and heads of straw. Was it not childish to search for evidences in the house of the suspected man? A fool indeed would he have been to hide them there. Not less than ten times has the impostor's house been raided, under pretext of fire or burglary or what not, but to no purpose. They have not been near him. But lately since his residence in England he has kept them, for in England we have not so free a field—"
"He has lived in England?"
"Yes, your Majesty, he moved there from Prussia, realizing that a country whose cabinet was not on friendly terms with ours and in which respect for the home is carried to great lengths, was a more appropriate habitat for him than Prussia. In England our individual, ceasing to write letters to influential personages of Europe and failing to receive the desired recognition, devoted himself to watch-making and chemistry. He is said to have invented a new explosive."
"Why then has he been molested? When a man lives inoffensively—"
"Your Majesty, he was not disturbed, tho we continued to watch him. Our suspicions were aroused when we learned that he had sent his eldest daughter to France. This girl is an able strategist, a second edition of La Mothe. She caught in her net no less a nobleman than the Marquis de Brezé."
"Eve enters the garden," piquantly observed the King.
"Matters became complicated indeed. The girl sought nothing less than the undermining of the throne. I tried to sever the cords by making the Duchess of Rousillon—"
"That inflated hen? Competent agent indeed!"
"I commissioned her to reveal the antecedents of the girl's father to the infatuated Marquis. But Love was blind as usual, and the Marquis slipped through our hands and arrived in England just in time to save his prospective father-in-law's life."
"His life? Who threatened his life?"
"Oh, pickpockets! one of those nocturnal encounters so common in London streets. That is an unimportant detail in our narrative. We are reaching the heart of the matter. The girl had captured the Marquis with the aim of establishing in the very camp of French aristocracy a following for her father. The precious documents were confided to René and a journey to France arranged, the three to meet in Dover."
"And how have you ascertained these particulars, Baron?"
"Should I be doing my duty, did I not gather every particular? My business is to know all things regarding this infernal plot. Volpetti no sooner learned where the confederates were to meet than he arranged to put up at the same inn. He possessed himself of the papers by the cleverest strategy—"
The King, unmindful of his disabled limbs, half jumped from the couch.
"Then we are saved!" he cried. "For Volpetti surely destroyed them at once."
"Your Majesty, I never trust my agents implicitly. I spy upon my spies. Fruits of research I require to be always delivered into my hands. Otherwise, they might report to me that damning testimony has been destroyed, and meanwhile retain the deadly weapon, to turn it at any moment against me. No, they have express orders to destroy nothing."
"You were saying that Volpetti obtained possession of the papers."
"Yes; now the imbroglio becomes more complicated. A new power intervenes in the individual's behalf. Can your Majesty guess whom I mean?"
"The Carbonari."
"Precisely; the Carbonari,—the association which plants mines under our feet, and which carries on the Revolution beneath the earth. They have written on their statutes: 'The Bourbons have been brought back by foreigners; the Carbonari will restore to France freedom of choice.' Your Majesty, this society has members in every department of government; they are numerous in the army; they exist even in the Royal Council. They make it impossible for us to obliterate devotion to Napoleon; they constitute an incessant protest against the established régime."
"How the devil did the Carbonari become the champions of this pretender?"
"A countermine, your Majesty. It happened that in Dover at the same inn were two members of the order having unsettled scores from old Italian days against Jacome Volpetti."
"My friend, the spy who was set upon the individual should have had no unsettled scores pending with members of the Carbonari."
Lecazes winced, tho he was well aware that the words had for their sole object giving annoyance to him. He continued:
"Well, the Carbonari succeeded in murdering the police agent who accompanied our spy. They then despoiled Volpetti of the papers, after which they carried him, tied and gagged, aboard a French vessel, whose captain was also a member of the association. He would have been murdered also, had he not succeeded in freeing himself and leaping into the sea, from which he was rescued by an English schooner. The French vessel gave chase and so riddled the other by cannon balls, that, unable to defend herself, and being moreover the victim of a fire which—"
"Bravo, Lecazes, redoubtable romancer!" exclaimed the King mockingly.
"Your Majesty, I relate history, beside which romancing is a tame art. Weil, to resume: in spite of piracy and conflagration, Volpetti reached the coast near Pleneuf. At the same time, unaware of their enemy's salvation, the two Carbonari, de Brezé, Naundorff and his daughter disembarked also on French soil."
"How do you explain the coalition of the Carbonari and the pretender?"
"Your Majesty is well aware that, provided they work against the present administration, the association has carte blanche to make such combinations as are considered best. In that branch of the Carbonari known as Knights of Liberty, each member is free to follow his own judgment, to take risks and accept consequences. The Knights of Liberty constitute the germinating centre of crime. Notwithstanding the dispatch with which Volpetti issued warnings that the party be denied entry into Paris, he was outwitted. They arrived. The individual is here, beneath the powerful shelter of the association. The documents are doubtless well guarded. All efforts to obtain them by violence would be in vain. I have not the slightest clue to their place of concealment."
"Is de Brezé with the pretender?"
"Yes, and one of the Carbonari, an Italian."
"Where is the girl?"
"She has been placed for security in the Castle of Picmort. She was guarded by one of the Carbonari, but this man has started on one of those journeys which are characteristic of the society."
"Do you not consider it possible that the girl carries the documents?"
"I do not think so. In the first place, de Brezé through chivalry,—and he is a Paladin—would never give her a charge of grave peril; besides, the place for those papers is Paris."
"Then peace and happiness to the maiden in her Picmort refuge!" sighed the King.
"The Duchess informs me that the steward of the castle may prove a formidable rival to the Marquis in the affections of the fascinating intriguante."
"My blessing on the sylvan pair! An eclogue, indeed! A peasant lover!" remarked the King with a Voltairian laugh, after which he hummed:
"In the lap of Phillis
Damon streweth flowers
Wet with dews of morning."
Lecazes, not heeding the poetical interruption, continued:
"With regard to the documents, your Majesty, a subject which seems to bore you, I affirm that they are in Paris, because, among other reasons, the individual would have need of them in order to convince Madame the Duchess, whom it is his intention of addressing—"
"Also Ferdinand, I suppose—"
"Ferdinand is already convinced. Is your Majesty, perchance, ignorant that he recognizes the pretender? But his action is of no moment compared to that of Madame, the Dauphin's prison companion. Madame should be warned."
"What plan do you propose, Lecazes? As for me, I confess myself incompetent to forge methods of outwitting a woman."
"Listen, then. If we might arrange that Madame shall receive the individual—"
"What!" exclaimed the King.
"If she will grant him this secret interview and exact that he deliver to her the documents, in order that she may become convinced of his identity—"
The King applauded, cordially, sonorously, as tho he were a spectator at a theatrical representation,—the only character, he used to say, that suited him. He rendered homage to his Minister's genius.
"Enough!" he exclaimed. "I comprehend."
"Your Majesty divines the rest?"
"I divine, my friend, but—"
Lecazes radiantly took a pinch of aromatic snuff, and asked:
"But what?"
"But who is to tie the bell on the cat's neck? Who is to persuade my niece—"
"Her husband may convince her."
"Her husband? Lecazes, you and I are not children. My good nephew Louis is unacquainted with the art of influencing his wife. He treats her with such profound respect that—well, they fail utterly to understand each other. Whence comes this awkwardness in the second generation in dealing with women? Louis is my reproach, though I must admit that Ferdinand does me honor. Besides, Lecazes, you know well that I have instructed Louis to advise his wife to act as tho no such impostor exists."
Steps sounded in the adjoining apartment.
"Silence!" said the King. "Tis Ferdinand or Louis."
A moment later, the elegant martial figure of the Duke appeared in the door.
"You arrive opportunely, nephew," said Louis XVIII, as the Duke respectfully kissed his hand. "Be seated and give us news. What says Marie Thérèse?"
"Sire, I do not bring you pleasant news. Madame is strangely exalted. She has received a letter from that—man, which she carries over her heart."
"Repress your jealousy," replied the King in banter.
"I experience only sadness," replied the Duke with sincerity, "She suffers greatly and I suffer with her. She has not slept for three nights nor eaten for three days. She passes hours in prayer—"
"That is your fault!"
"Mine, sire?" exclaimed the Duke.
"Emphatically so, my little Louis. When a woman, such as is your wife, a woman who would die rather than even look at another man,—when she becomes fad, 'tis that her husband is indifferent. Listen; the time has come when I must speak the truth: you have behaved like a simpleton. You have never won her heart. You have treated her with a veneration such as the devote evinces toward the marble statues of saints."
"Sire, you know well that I am more in my element at the head of a regiment than with women. I do not understand them."
"The devil! This cursed generation seems to have been born blasé, destitute even of a sense of beauty. The reason that I love your brother Ferdinand is that he is the living reproduction of our ancestor, Henry of Navarre. The 'ultras' are scandalized at his romance with the English girl. Well, we must beautify our life with illusion or we should become stone. I have kept my heart in its place always, even though I have been a wretched invalid. Not that I have given myself up to material joys. We become divine through that exaltation evoked by the presence of woman. The Countess is the intermediary between soul and faith,—faith in the beautiful. You know that here there is no possibility of descent into matter—An old man in ruined health!"
The Duke frowned, struggling between respect for his uncle and repugnance towards his theories.
"In short, Louis, my aching limbs are already in the grave. I have done ail in my power to protect the institutions in my charge. I have subjugated my convictions, my reason, my skepticism, in order to be true to the trust confided to me. With my right hand I have restrained the Revolution; with my left the excesses of an imbecile and sanguinary Reaction. Lecazes has aided me and aids me. But Louis, my heir, if you falter, I shall contend no longer, even tho the monarchy perish. In vain will you have combatted at the pass of Ivon, at Ravenheim and afterwards, beside the unfortunate Eugene. Bah! The hardest battles are these of state, my son."
The Duke was moved. When the King discarded his habitual raillery, he evinced genuine majesty. Almost subjugated, he knelt at his uncle's feet, saying:
"What can I do for the monarchy, for God? I am willing to give my life, if necessary."
"Much less than that is required," replied the King, affectionately. "All that I ask is that you act the part of an affectionate husband, which you are; that you treat your wife tenderly, passionately—"
"To what end, Sire?"
"Lecazes will inform you, for I am greatly fatigued. I must be careful of my forces, as tomorrow will be Wednesday and the Countess Cayla will be here to make some hours heaven to me."