One in a Thousand; or, The Days of Henri Quatre

by G. P. R. James

St. Real's bold step in the room, the sound of his heavy boot and jingling spurs, instantly caught the king's attention; and, looking up from his basket of dogs, he gazed over the person of the young noble, with a glance first of surprise, and then, apparently, of horror and disgust. The silken watchers of the king's countenance instantly caught its expression, and divined the cause.

"Good God, sir!" exclaimed one, interposing between St. Real and the king, as if he feared that the young noble were about to assassinate the monarch; "good God, sir! is it possible that any one should present himself before his Majesty in such a plight? Retire, for Heaven's sake! you had better retire!"

St. Real laid his hand upon the attendant's breast to push him back out of his way; but the minion shrank back from the touch of the same stout doe-skin glove with which the young Marquis had parted the contending soldiers in the street, as if a dagger had been at his bosom.

"I would not have intruded upon your Majesty," said St. Real, "in a garb stained with blood as this is, had I not had something to communicate which I thought of immediate importance----"

"Whatever you have to communicate, sir," interrupted the king, frowning, "must be told when you have changed your dress: I will hear nothing at the risk of being suffocated. The blood has nothing to do with the matter! I have seen more blood, and shed more blood, than you ever have, or ever will, perhaps; but you bring in with you a whirlwind of dust, enough to choke up the lungs of any Christian king upon the face of the earth. Make no reply, sir," he continued, waving his hand; "make no reply, but leave the room; and when you have changed your dress, and appear in habiliments more befitting this place, I will hear what you have to communicate, but not before."

"As your Majesty pleases," replied St. Real; "but still, let me warn you of one thing at least----"

"Of nothing!" exclaimed the king. "Why, the very percussion of your breath shakes the dust from your cloak, till the whole air is dim. Away with him! away with him! Nevers, Joyeuse, Epernon, rid me of the sight of him! But gently, gently! Do not shake the dust off him: 'tis bad enough to be obliged to ride along the high roads, once every day, without having the high roads brought into our own audience-chamber."

There was a determination in the look and demeanour of the young Marquis of St. Real which augured something in his nature not pleasant to lay hands upon; and, consequently, the courtiers of the contemptible monarch took care not to enforce his commands with any rudeness. Nor was it necessary; for St. Real, finding that any farther attempt, at that moment, to communicate to the king the apprehensions he entertained from what he had seen in Paris, would be vain, retreated from the royal presence without farther question, resolving immediately to inform his cousin D'Aubin, and beg him to convey the bare intelligence of danger to the monarch, while he himself changed his dress, and prepared to give more full and minute information.

Rejoining his attendants in the court, and looking eagerly round, as he quitted the royal residence, in order to ascertain whether the monk were still in sight, St. Real turned his steps back towards the house where he had found D'Aubin on his arrival at St. Cloud. It was not, indeed, that he could feel particularly interested in the fate of the monarch whom he had just seen, or that he thought the death of such a degraded being would be, at any other period, much to be regretted in France; but the young lord, acting upon general principles which accidental circumstances never greatly modified, felt it his bounden duty to prevent, if possible, a meditated crime; and, even had it not been so, would have been extremely desirous of preserving the life of the reigning sovereign, at a moment when political and religious factions, personal enmities, and contending interests, convulsed the realm, and required no new brand of discord to bring down sorrows, desolation, and ruin, upon the people, the country, and the state.

Whichever way St. Real turned his eyes, however, various groups of persons loitering about, without any apparent object, interrupted his view ere it could penetrate many yards. Amongst them the figure of the Jacobin was not to be seen; and, mounting his horse, which had been led after him, he proceeded as fast as possible to the dwelling in which his cousin had taken up his quarters.