Agnes Sorel: A Novel

by G. P. R. James

"Perhaps there may be some mistake," said Jean Charost, hesitating a little. "I think that you are the gentleman who introduced the Duke de Berri about half an hour ago; but, although his highness gave me the name of his secretary in speaking to that duke, he has in no way intimated to me personally that I am to fill such an office, and it may be better not to assume that it is so till I hear further."

"Not so, not so," cried the gentleman, with a smile. "You do not know the duke yet. He is a man of a single word: frank, and honest in all his dealings. What he says, he means. He may do more, but never less; and it were to offend him to doubt any thing he has said. He called you his secretary in your presence; I heard him, and you are just as much his secretary as if you had a patent for the place. Besides, shortly after Maître Jacques Cœur left him yesterday evening--the first time, when he was here alone, I mean--he gave orders concerning you. I am merely a poor écuyer de la main, but tolerably well with his highness. The maître d'hôtel, however, knows all about it."

By this time they had reached the vestibule of the palace, and Jean Charost was conducted by his new friend through a number of turning and winding passages, which showed him that the house was much larger than he had at first believed, to a large room, where they found an old man in a lay habit of black, but with the crown of his head shaved, immersed in an ocean of bundles of papers, tied up with pack-thread.

"This is the young gentleman of whom the duke spoke to you, signor," said Jean's conductor; "his highness's new secretary. You had better let him see his rooms, and take care of him till the duke comes, for I found young Juvenel de Royans provoking him to quarrel in the outer court."

"Ah, that youth, that youth," cried the maître d'hôtel, with a strong foreign accent. "He will get himself into trouble, and Heaven knows the trouble he has given me. But can not you, good Monsieur Blaize, just show the young gentleman his apartments? Here are the keys. I know it is not in your office; but I am so busy just now, and so sad too, that you would confer a favor upon me. Then bring him back, as soon as he knows his way, and we three will dine snugly together in my other room. It is two hours past the time; but every thing has been in disorder this black day, and the duke has gone out without any dinner at all. Will you favor me, Monsieur Blaize?"

"With pleasure, with pleasure, my good friend," replied the old écuyer, taking the two keys which the other held out to him, and saying, in an inquiring tone, "The two rooms next to the duke's bed-room, are they not?"

"No, no. The two on this side, next the toilet-chamber," answered the other. "You will find a fire lighted there, for it is marvelous cold in this horrid climate;" and Monsieur Blaize, nodding his head, led the way toward another part of the palace.

Innumerable small chambers were passed, their little doors jostling each other in a long corridor, and Jean Charost began to wonder when they would stop, when a sharp turn brought them to a completely different part of the house. A large and curiously-constructed stair-case presented itself, rising from the sides of a vestibule, in two great wings, which seemed all the way up as if they were going to meet each other at the next landing-place, but yet, taking a sudden turn, continued separate to the top of the five stories through which they ascended, without any communication whatsoever between the several flights. Quaint and strange were the ornaments carved upon the railings and balustrades: heads of devils and angels, cherubims with their wings extended, monkeys playing on the fiddle, dragons with their snaky tails wound round the bones of a grinning skeleton, and Cupid astride upon a goose. In each little group there was probably some allegory, moral or satirical; but, though very much inclined, Jean Charost could not pause to inquire into the conceit which lay beneath, for his companion led the way up one of the flights with a rapid step, and then carried him along a wide passage, in which the doors were few and large, and ornamented with rich carvings, but dimly seen in the ill-lighted corridor. At the end, a little flight of six broad steps led them to another floor of the house, more lightsome and cheerful of aspect, and here they reached a large doorway, with a lantern hanging before it and some verses carved in the wood-work upon the cornice.

Here Monsieur Blaize paused for a moment to look over his shoulder, and say, "That is the duke's bed-chamber, and the door beyond his toilet-chamber, where he receives applicants while he is dressing; and now for the secretary's room."

As he spoke, he approached a little door--for no great symmetry was observed--and, applying a key to the lock, admitted his young companion into the apartments which were to be his future abode. The first room was a sort of antechamber to the second, and was fitted up as a sort of writing-chamber, with tables, and chairs, and stools, ink-bottles and cases for paper, while a large, open fire-place displayed the embers of a fire, which had been sufficiently large to warm the whole air within. Within this room wat another, separated from it by a partition of plain oak, containing a small bed, very handsomely decorated, a chair, and a table, but no other furniture, except three pieces of tapestry, representing, somewhat grotesquely, and not very decently, the loves of Jupiter and Leda. The two chambers, which formed one angle of the building, and received light from two different sides, had apparently been one in former times, but each was large enough to form a very convenient room; and there was an air of comfort and habitability, if I may use the term, which seemed to the eye of Jean Charost the first cheerful thing he had met with since his entrance into the palace.