CHAPTER XLIX.
Youth and Fate are always at variance as to times and distances. Youth says, "one day;" Fate says, "two." Youth says, "fifty miles;" but Fate almost always makes it a hundred. Edward had more difficulty in getting a thousand crowns than he had expected; and he did not altogether think that Signor Morini aided him as much as he might have done. Richelieu, who had only made a very short stay in Paris, quitted the capital about mid-day, and Edward, as may be supposed, was all impatience to hurry after him; but Morini, on the contrary, was as cool and composed as if he was making an astrological calculation, always remarking that he would overtake the minister long before he got to Suza. "He never travels very fast, you know," said the little Italian; "and, besides, he has got a whole party of the ladies of the court with him, who always make a march tedious. They went off at daylight this morning; but you may count upon them to make the journey at least five days longer than it ought to be."
"Nevertheless," said Edward, "I wish to proceed as fast as possible; and the objections of these bankers seem to me to be ridiculous."
"Oh, no; they make no objections," said Morini. "They only want a little time to consider. They are not all in love. They do not all want to get to Venice. They do business in a business-like way, and have no idea of firing off large sums like cannon-shot."
However, the whole of that day passed without the money being procured; and the second day had seen the sun rise several hours, when at length Signor Morini thought fit to whisper two words in the ear of Monsieur Philippon, the banker, which, as if by magic, brought forth the thousand crowns about which there had been so much difficulty.
Nevertheless, it was three o'clock in the evening before Edward Langdale could depart; and then, besides Signor Morini himself and the king's forager who had been promised, were half a dozen lackeys and pages, and a good deal of baggage,—which did not promise to accelerate the journey. Once started, however, and with sufficient money in his pocket, Edward resolved to delay for no man, and to be at Suza as soon as the cardinal. He was somewhat mistaken in his calculation, indeed; for Richelieu pursued his way, wherever he could, by water; and, though the prime minister could always command boats, the young English gentleman could not obtain the same accommodation in a country where the passage of troops and the court had rendered all means of progression scarce. In every other respect, the first part of Edward's journey was without accident,—I might almost have said without incident. But it so happened that at Montargis, where the young gentleman arrived in the afternoon, a large party of ladies were setting out on horseback just at the moment he entered the little town. The number of servants with them, and a small body of the cardinal's guard, showed that they belonged to the court, which could not otherwise have been discovered by their faces, as each, according to the general custom of that day, wore a little black velvet mask, called a loup, to guard her complexion when travelling. Signor Morini, however, either divined who each was by her figure, or else, with Italian carelessness, took his chance of mistakes; for he dashed at once amidst the party, talked first to one and then to another, and seemed very well received by all. Edward had ridden up by his side; but, as he knew nobody, he spoke to nobody till one of the ladies observed, in a very sweet voice, "You do not seem so sociable as your companion, sir."
"I could not presume," said Edward, "to address ladies whom I have never seen before, unless they gave me some encouragement to do so."
"I do not know whether you have seen me," said the lady; "but I have seen you."
"Pray, where?" asked Edward,—"that I may give that wild bird, Fancy, some notion how to fly."