Gerald Fitzgerald, the Chevalier: A Novel

by Charles James Lever

The Cardinal was one of those men, and they are large enough to form a class, who imagine that they owe every success they obtain in life, in some way or other, to their own admirable skill and forethought; their egotism blinding them against all the aid the suggestions of others have afforded, they arrive at a self-reliance which is actually marvellous. To turn to good account this peculiarity of disposition, Massoni now addressed himself zealously and actively. He well knew that if the Cardinal only fancied that the alliance of his niece with the Chevalier was a scheme devised by himself—one of which none but a man of his deep subtlety and sagacity could ever have thought—the plot would have an irresistible attraction for him. The wily Jesuit meditated long over this plan, and, at last, hit upon an expedient that seemed hopeful. Among the many agents whom he employed over Europe, was one calling himself the Count Delia Rocca, a fellow of infinite craft and effrontery, and who, though of the very humblest origin and most questionable morals, had actually gained a footing among the very highest and most exclusive of the French royalists. He had been frequently intrusted with confidential messages between the Courts of France and Spain, and acquired a sort of courtier-like air and breeding, which lost nothing by any diffidence or modesty on his part.

Massoni’s plan was to pretend to the Cardinal that Delia Rocca had been sent out to Rome by the Count D’Artois, with the decoration of St. Louis for the Chevalier, and a secret mission to sound the young Stuart Prince, as to his willingness to ally himself with the House of Bourbon, by marriage. For such a pretended mission the Count was well suited; sufficiently acquainted with the habits of great people to represent their conversation correctly, and well versed in that half ambiguous tone, affected by diplomatists of inferior grade, he was admirably calculated to play the part assigned him.

To give a greater credence to the mission, it was necessary that the Cardinal York should be also included in the deception; but nothing was ever easier than to make a dupe of his Royal Highness. A number of well-turned compliments from his dear cousins of ‘France’ some little allusions to the ‘long ago’ at St. Germains, when the exiled Stuarts lived there, and a note, cleverly imitated, in the Count D’Artois’ hand, were quite enough to win the old man’s confidence. The next step was to communicate Delia Rocca’s arrival to the Cardinal Caraffa, and this Massoni did with all due secrecy, intimating that the event was one upon which he desired to take the pleasure of his Eminence.

Partly from offended pride, on not being himself sought for by the envoy, and partly to disguise from Massoni the jealousy he always felt on the score of Cardinal York’s superior rank, Caraffa protested that the tidings had no interest for him whatever; that any sentiments he entertained for the young Chevalier were simply such as a sincere pity suggested; that he never heard of a cause so utterly hopeless; that even if powerful allies were willing and ready to sustain his pretensions, the young man’s own defects of character would defeat their views; that, from all he could hear—for of himself he owned to know nothing—Gerald was the last man in Europe to lead an enterprise which required great daring and continual resources, and, in fact, none could be his partisan save from a sense of deep compassion.

The elaborate pains he took to impress all this upon Massoni convinced the Père that it was not the real sentiment of his Eminence, and he was not much surprised at a hasty summons to the Cardinal’s palace on the evening of the day he had first communicated the news.

‘The first mine has been sprung!’ muttered Massoni, as he read the order and prepared to obey it.

The Cardinal was in his study when the Père arrived, and, continued to pace up and down the room, briefly addressing a few words as Massoni entered and saluted him.

‘The old Cardinal Monga had a saying, that if some work were not found out to employ the Jesuits, they were certain to set all Europe in a flame. Was there not some truth in the remark, Père Massoni? Answer me frankly and fairly, for you know the body well!’ Such was the speech by which he addressed him.

‘Had his Eminence reckoned the times in which Jesuit zeal and wisdom had rescued the world from peril, it would have been a fitter theme for his wisdom.’

‘It is not to be denied that they are meddlers, sir,’ said the Cardinal haughtily.