"So," cried he, laughing, "you have met with an old friend of ours here, Jean le Hableur, as he is called. He is one of the Cardinal's most daring and indefatigable spies; and few are there who have had address and courage enough to baffle him as you have done. He traced my poor friend Armand de Paul to the very gates of Sedan, found out that he was carrying despatches to me, filched a letter from his person containing much that should have remained secret, and having made himself acquainted with his name, laid such information against him, that Armand, at his return to Paris, was instantly arrested and thrown into the Bastile. Why, the whole country between Verdun and Paris is so famous, or rather infamous, from his continual presence, that no one here dare pass by that road for fear of meeting with Jean le Hableur. You should have gone by Mezières: but where are these letters you speak of?"
I instantly produced them, and gave them into the hands of the count, who read the letter from the Duke of Orleans with a sort of smile that implied more scorn than pleasure. He then laid it down, saying aloud, with rather a bitter emphasis, "My good cousin of Orleans!" He then perused the epistle of Monsieur de Retz, and from time to time as he did so turned his eyes upon me, as if comparing the character which he therein found written down, with those ideas which he had already begun to form of me himself, from that outward semblance that almost always finds means to prejudice even the wisest and most cautious. When he had concluded, he rose and walked once or twice across the saloon, thoughtfully running his hand up and down the broad rich sword-belt which hung across his breast, which I afterwards found was habitual with him, when any consideration occupied him deeply.
I had risen when he rose, but still stood near the table, without, however, turning my eyes towards it; for the letter of the Duke of Orleans lying open upon it, I did not choose to be suspected of even wishing to know its contents.
"Sit, sit, Count Louis!" said the prince, resuming his seat, and then adding in a serious tone, but one of great kindness, "Monsieur de Retz, I find, has not made you aware of all the circumstances of my present situation; and perhaps has done wisely to leave that communication to myself. From the great friendship and esteem--I may say affection--with which my mother regards yours, I had not a moment's hesitation in saying, that if you would join me here, you should have the very first vacant post in my household, suitable to your own high rank and the antiquity of your family. Since then, the place of first gentleman of my bedchamber is void, and I have reserved it for you; but as that is a situation which brings you so near my own person, an unlimited degree of confidence is necessary between us. Your rank, your family, the high name of your father and grandfather, the admirable character which my mother attributes to yours, all seem to vouch that you are--that you must be--everything noble and estimable; but still there are two or three circumstances which you must explain to me, before I can feel justified in trusting you with that entire confidence I speak of. Monsieur de Retz says, you have given him your history, which is a strange one--though how that can be, I do not know, for you are but a young man, and can have, I should imagine, but little to tell. He says, farther, that he met with you by accident, and seems to hint that, when he did so, you had not intended to join me here, as my mother informed me you would. He insinuates, also, that you were somewhat indiscreet towards him, in speaking of your own affairs. Explain all this to me, for there is something evidently to be told. Make me your confidant without reserve, and, in return, I will confide to you secrets perhaps of greater importance. If you have nothing to tell but youthful errors, or imprudence, speak without fear, as you would to a friend and brother; but," he added more gravely, "if there is anything which affects your honour--which, I may say, I am sure there is not--I ask no confidence of the kind."
"Had your highness not required it," replied I, "I should not have presumed to intrude my private affairs upon your attention; but now that I find you, most justly, think it right to assure yourself of the character of one to whom you design the honour of being near your person, I may be permitted to express what happiness and consolation I feel, in being allowed to repose all my griefs and misfortunes in the bosom of a prince universally beloved and esteemed." When I spoke thus I did not flatter; and I concluded by giving as brief a sketch, but as accurate a one as possible, of all the events which fill the foregoing pages of these memoirs. "I will own, my lord," I added, "that I told a part of this story to Monsieur de Retz, but only a small part; and that was in a moment of joy, when, after having lived lonely and miserable in a large city, for upwards of a month, I suddenly found that I was expected and would be welcomed by a prince possessed of a treasure which few princes, I am afraid, can boast--a generous and a feeling heart. I was perhaps indiscreet in communicating even a part to any one but your Highness; but you will not find that in your service, I will be either indiscreet or unfaithful."
"I believe you," said the Count, "on my honour, I believe you; and De Retz was too hasty in even calling you indiscreet; for your conduct towards our friend Jean le Hableur proves sufficiently that you can keep counsel. Your history has interested me more than I will tell you at present. I feel for all you have suffered, and I would not for the world barter that power of feeling for others, against the most tranquil stoicism. Sympathy, however, though always agreeable to him that excites it, is little pleasing to him who feels it, without he can follow it up by some service to the person by whom it has been awakened. I will try whether that cannot be the case with you;--but you are tired with your long journey, and the night wears. Ho, without there! send Monsieur de Varicarville hither. We will talk more to-morrow, Monsieur de l'Orme, since such is the name you choose."
I rose to depart, but at the same time one of the gentlemen whom I had seen in the outer chamber, conversing while the rest were gaming, entered, and the Count introduced me to him, begging him to show me all kindness and attention, as a person whom he himself esteemed and loved.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
The manners of Monsieur de Varicarville were at once simple and elegant--there was none of the superfluous hyperbole of courts; there was little even of the common exaggeration of society, in anything he said. He neither expressed himself ravished to make my acquaintance, nor delighted to see me; all he said was, that he would do everything that depended upon him, to make me comfortable during my stay at Sedan. And thus I always found him afterwards--neither what is in general called blunt, which is more frequently rude, nor what is usually called polite, which is in general hollow. He had too much kindness of heart ever to offend, and too much sincerity ever to flatter. But the goodness of his disposition, and the native grace of his demeanour, gave, conjoined, that real bienséance, of which courtly politeness is but an unsubstantial shadow. Poor Varicarville! I owe thee such a tribute, best and most excellent of friends! And though no epitaph hangs upon the tomb where thou sleepest, in the hearts of all who knew thee thy memory is treasured and beloved.
After a few words of kindness, and having received the note addressed to him from the Abbé de Retz, he gave me into the hands of the Count's maître d'hôtel, telling him that I was the gentleman who had been so long expected; and desiring him to see that I wanted nothing, till such time as I was sufficiently familiarized with the place and its customs to take care of myself. He then left me, and I was conducted to a neat chamber with an anteroom, containing three truckle beds for lackeys, a small writing or dressing cabinet, and several other conveniences, which I had hardly expected in a castle so completely full as the citadel of Sedan appeared to be. Before the maître d'hôtel left me, I requested that my horses might be taken care of, and that my servant might be sent to me, hinting at the same time, that if he brought me a cup of wine and something to eat, I should not at all object, as I had tasted nothing all day except a wing of the capon which Achilles had carried off from Verdun. My little attendant soon appeared, loaded with a great many more provisions than I needed, and congratulating both himself and me upon our sudden transposition from Paris, and the meagre diet we had there observed, to such a land of corn, wine, and oil.