“Well, well!” cried Louis, snatching up the pen. “But remember, Cinq Mars must be pardoned. He has been deceived by that treacherous Duke of Bouillon and that oily Fontrailles. Oh, he is all honour and loyalty; have I not experienced a thousand instances of his affection?—It is false! it is false!” And he dashed down the pen without using it.
Chavigni gazed on him for a moment with a feeling very nearly allied to contempt. “Well then, your Majesty,” he said at length, “is it your pleasure that I cause the arrest of the Dukes of Orleans and Bouillon, with Monsieur de Fontrailles, and others concerned in this conspiracy, and let Monsieur de Cinq Mars know that Louis the Just makes a distinction between him and other men?”
“No, no, Chavigni,” replied Louis, mournfully; “give me the paper—I will sign it—But Cinq Mars must be saved. He has been deceived—I will sign it;” and turning away his head, he wrote his name with a trembling hand. But still he continued to hold the warrant, as if unwilling to part with it, repeating more than once in a tone rather of entreaty than command, “Indeed, indeed, Chavigni, he must be saved!”
“Will your Majesty look at this part of the treaty to see that I have stated it correctly?” said the Statesman, offering the papers to the King. Louis laid down the warrant to receive them; and Chavigni instantly raising the order for the arrest of Cinq Mars from the table, placed it in his portfolio with the rest. Louis saw that it was gone beyond recall; and dropping the treaty from his hands, hid his face in his cloak with feelings near akin to despair.
Chavigni’s object was gained, and the power of Richelieu re-established. Not only all the conspirators were delivered bound into his hands, but the King himself was virtually in his power. Too weak, as the Statesman well knew, to stand alone, or to choose new ministers for himself, Louis had no resource but to yield himself once more blindly to the guidance of the Cardinal; and from the moment he had signed the warrant against Cinq Mars, Chavigni looked upon him but as a royal tool to work out the designs of that great unshrinking politician, who had already so long used him for his own purposes.
The unfortunate Monarch, also, was but too well aware of his own want of energy, and of the unsupported situation in which he had left himself; and yielding to his ancient dread of Richelieu, he charged Chavigni with a multitude of exculpatory messages to the Minister, calling him his best friend and his cousin, and adding various civil speeches and professions, which both Chavigni and the Cardinal knew how to estimate.
“There are many other persons, Sire,” said the Statesman, as he was about to depart, “who are implicated more or less in this unhappy conspiracy; but as their guilt is either in a minor degree, or their rank less elevated, I will not trouble your Majesty to put your personal signature to the warrants against them. In the mean time, allow me to hint that the King ought not to be seen hunting with traitors when they are known to be so.”
“No, no,” replied Louis, mournfully; “I am in no mood for hunting now. But where go you, Monsieur de Chavigni? You will not leave me for long,” added the King, feeling that he must have some one to lean on, and little caring who, so that they yielded him support. “You will not leave me for long in this case of danger.”
“I am about to proceed to Corneille,” replied Chavigni, “to order up a body of the Cardinal’s guard. At present, I have no escort but a few servants. We are surrounded by the retainers of the different conspirators, and, were I to attempt the execution of your Majesty’s warrants, we might meet with opposition. But I will soon set that at rest, and before to-morrow morning there shall be a thousand men in Narbonne, truly devoted to your Majesty’s service.”
The King gave an involuntary shudder; and Chavigni, with a mockery of profound respect, which he felt but little, took leave and quitted the presence.