“No, no,” replied Chavigni, “I go alone. Do not let it get abroad that I am gone. I will be back betimes to-morrow.”
“You had better take one servant, at least,” said the Cardinal. “The roads are not safe. It is dangerous.”
“Dangerous!” exclaimed Chavigni. “Who thinks of danger when his all is at stake? Your Eminence has a great regard for human lives, I know—for mine more especially. But depend upon it, I shall come home safe to-morrow, though I go alone to-night. Now, Sir,” he continued to the groom, who led forth a strong black hunter for his service, “girth up the saddle a little tighter: unbuckle that cross from his poitral; I am neither going on a pilgrimage nor a procession.”
And now, walking twice round the horse to see that all the caparisons were in right order, he sprang into the saddle, and dashing his rowels into the hunter’s flank, galloped out of the court-yard, bowing with a smile as he passed by Mazarin, who started back a step, as the horse’s feet, in the rapidity of its course, struck fire with the stones of the pavement.
CHAPTER IX.
Which shows how a King made reparation, and what came of it.
WHILE, as we have seen, Chavigni galloped off towards Tarascon, forgetting in the agitation produced by the tidings of Mazarin, to take those measures which he had proposed in regard to Villa Grande, Cinq Mars returned directly towards the palace, or rather, the house which had been converted into a palace for the King’s use. It was one of those old buildings which at that time were common in France, and which even now are often to be met with in cities where the remains of ancient splendour, left alone to the less destructive power of time, have not been demolished by the violence of turbulent times, or the still more inveterate enmity of modern improvement. The whole front, with the two octagonal towers at the sides, and the long corridors on the right and left hand of the court, were ornamented with a multitude of beautiful arabesques and bas reliefs. These last, the bas reliefs, entirely covered the principal façade of the building, and offered a number of pictures in stone, representing in some parts battles and triumphs, and in others displaying the humbler and more peaceful subjects of pastoral life and religious ceremonies. Amongst the rest was one medallion which caught the attention of Cinq Mars; and as the failing light prevented him from seeing it where he stood, he approached to observe it. The chisel of the sculptor usurping the place of the pencil, had there pourtrayed a landscape with a flock of sheep pasturing quietly by the side of a brook, while a shepherd appeared sleeping under a hill, down which a wolf was seen stealing upon the flock. Underneath was written in old gothic characters, Eveillez vous, le loup s’approche.
Cinq Mars smiled as he read it, applying the warning to himself. “Let him come,” said he, thinking of Richelieu; “he will be caught himself.” So saying, he turned, and entering the Palace, retired to his own apartments. He had not remained there long, however, before he was once more joined by Fontrailles. “Follow me quick, Cinq Mars,” cried the conspirator; “the King asks for you. Now is the moment to speak to him. He thinks that his peevishness hurt you this morning, and he is willing to make atonement.”
It may be well supposed that Cinq Mars lost no time in following his companion up the great staircase to the King’s apartments. It was, indeed, as Fontrailles had said. Since his return, Louis had enjoyed an hour of repose, which cleared from his mind the irritability induced by fatigue, and made him reproach himself for the unkindness he had shown to one so devotedly attached to him as the Master of the Horse. The remembrance of it oppressed him, and he sent for his favourite, not indeed to apologize, but to wipe away the impression that his irritability had caused, by more than usual kindness and familiarity. The two conspirators found Louis seated in a cabinet, which, being placed in one of the towers, partook of its octangular form. The walls were wainscoted with dark carved oak, and even the plafond was all of the same gloomy-coloured material, except a massy gilt cornice and projecting rose in the centre, from which hung a single silver lamp, the rays of which, falling on the figure of the King beneath, gave an additional paleness to his worn but fine countenance, and slightly touching upon his plain black velvet suit, shone full on the richly illuminated book in which he had been reading.
Louis raised his eyes as Fontrailles entered, and then turning them full on the noble countenance of Cinq Mars who followed, a pleased smile beamed for a moment on his lip, and he exclaimed, “Well, Cinq Mars, art thou Nimrod enough to hunt again to-morrow after our misfortunes of to-day? Come in, Monsieur de Fontrailles,” he continued, seeing that Fontrailles remained near the door, hesitating whether he should retire or not, now that he had done the King’s bidding in summoning the Grand Ecuyer. “Come in, I pray—Sit you down, Gentlemen—it is the King’s request: you, Cinq Mars, here—Monsieur de Fontrailles, there is a seat. Now,” he continued, glancing his eye round as the light of the lamp gleamed faintly on their several countenances—“now we look like some secret triumvirate met to decide the fate of nations.”