When the letter telling Gaston Cheverny of his losses was placed in his hands, we were in the act of starting from the Luxembourg for Versailles, accompanying Count Saxe. Gaston glanced at the letter hurriedly, and his face grew pale, but he mounted and rode forward without a word, thrusting the letter in his pocket. It was a cold, bright February morning, and we traveled briskly. Count Saxe called me to his side, and as we followed the road, talked with me concerning the change in his affairs made by the death of the King of Saxony and the impending war. For my part, since the dose I had had in Courland of elective crowns, I had a rooted aversion to them and only pitied the man who would aspire to one of the accursed baubles.
When we were some miles on our way, Count Saxe turned his head, and seeing Gaston Cheverny with a rueful face, riding among the suite, asked me the cause; for Gaston had a natural gaiety of heart, very becoming to a soldier. I told Count Saxe of the ill news Gaston had just received. Count Saxe then called to 241 him, and on Gaston’s riding up, promised him some recompense in the way of a fortune, that he might rebuild his house, for which Gaston expressed his thanks.
“And there is great joy ahead,” continued Count Saxe, loud enough to be heard by all of the suite, “for we may reckon to be at odds with the Austrians by June, at least.”
With that Gaston’s countenance cleared as if by magic and the youngsters in the suite began cheering with pleasure. We were crossing the bridge near Sèvres, that bridge where Monsieur Voltaire got one of his celebrated canings, and the thought of fighting so pleased Gaston Cheverny that besides cheering loudly with the rest, he stood up in his stirrups, and for very joy flung his hat into the river. The other youngsters followed this gallant example, and except Count Saxe and myself, not a man in the party had a hat when we reached Versailles. Count Saxe told the story to the king, who was vastly diverted by it, and next morning, before we left Versailles, every man who had thrown his hat away in the exuberance of his joy received from the queen the gift of a handsome laced hat. So much for Gaston Cheverny’s flinging his away. He showed a steady and cheerful fortitude under his losses. Besides the actual loss to him, whose fortune was already small, he was deeply attached to his home and his belongings. He told me with a rueful smile that only the fine gateway of the Manoir Cheverny had been spared. There was no doubt in the minds of either of us that Jacques Haret was the guilty one in these crimes.
CHAPTER XIX
THE HAPPIEST MAN ALIVE
Will it be believed that after the king had in February sent for Count Saxe and other officers to Versailles to announce to them the war, we were not actually on the march until August? There was a song the soldiers sang on the sly during these months, when the king, having said he would make war, seemed loath to begin:
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Timide, imbécile, farouche, Jamais Louis n’avait dit mot. |