At length, driven to speak more clearly, the marquis paused suddenly on the terrace across which they were walking, and, fronting the priest, demanded abruptly and sternly, "Tell me, then—tell me what is this situation in which you say I am placed, which you always allude to and never explain. Tell me this, and tell me how I shall meet the danger, or, by the powers of Heaven and hell, you shall never quit this place alive."
"A pretty and a sweet persuasion," exclaimed the priest, laughing heartily; "but, my dear son, I am not so easily killed, even if such parricidal thoughts were anything more than a jest. You know not what a tough morsel an old priest is: hard of mastication for even stronger teeth than yours. Nay, nay, think of tenderer food! In other terms, ask me pleasantly and civilly, my good son, and you may then chance to receive an answer. If you were to kill me forty times over it would do you no good. My secrets are like the goose's golden eggs: not to be got at by slaughter."
"There is something that you want, priest," replied the marquis, in the same abrupt tone. "Quick! tell me what it is; if it be anything in reason, you shall have it."
The priest smiled with a meaning look, but thought for a moment or two before he replied; for, to say the truth, he had not, in his own mind, fixed upon that which he was to demand as his recompense. He had, it is true, an object in view, and the chief means of attaining that object was to persuade the Marquis of Masseran that he dealt with him truly and sincerely. Now he well knew that the mind of the worthy lord was so constituted that it could by no means be brought to conceive that any man dealt honestly with another, unless he had some personal object to gain by so doing, and, therefore, the priest determined to assign such an object, although he was, in reality, without one. "Well," he said, "well, you shall promise me, most solemnly, first, not to tell any one what I reveal to you; and also, if you find that what I tell you is true, and if the way that I point out to you prove successful, you shall give the priest of the church of Saint John of Bonvoison a fat buck in August every year when he chooses to send for it; you shall also give him a barrel of wine of your best vintage, and five silver pieces for alms to the poor, and this in perpetuity."
"Fy, now, fy!" replied the Lord of Masseran; "for your own life were quite enough; but in perpetuity, that is more than I can engage for: it is owning your vassalage, good father."
"It must be even so, though," replied the priest, "or you have not my secret. I care not for venison, sinner that I am, it is the good of the Church I think of."
"Well! well!" answered the Lord of Masseran, "most disinterested father, I give my promise; and now be quick, for I expect a visiter full soon, my dealings with whom may depend upon your words: what is it that I should fear?"
"That Adrian, count of Meyrand," said the priest, "and Bernard, baron de Rohan, laying their heads together for their own special purposes—"
"That can never be, that can never be," cried the marquis, with a scoff. "They both love the same woman. They both seek her. They can as soon unite as oil and water. No, no, that is all vain!" and he turned away with a sneer.
"Suppose," said the priest, smiling in a way that again shook the Marquis of Masseran's feelings of security, "suppose that the one should love her money and the other herself, and they should agree to settle it thus: We will prove to the King of France that the Lord of Masseran holds secret communication with the Duke of Savoy and the Emperor Ferdinand. Suppose this were the case, I say, do you think, my son, that there would be any chance of their really proving it? Could the noble Count of Meyrand say boldly that, to his knowledge, the Lord of Masseran conspired secretly with some troops of Savoy, to carry off, as if by force, himself, the Lord of Masseran, and Mademoiselle de Brienne, for special purposes of his own, somewhat treasonable towards France, only that the scheme was defeated by an accident? Could Bernard de Rohan say that he had seen the Lord of Masseran in the hands of his captors, going along with no great signs of unwillingness, and showing no great signs of gratitude to those who set him free."