He then informed the damsel that the Count De Fontrailles was in attendance on the cardinal when he left the palace, and of course heard Mademoiselle’s petition and the favorable though sarcastic reply of the minister. A little scene of remonstrance and replication occurred afterwards, as the page knew, though he would not say how he became possessed of the information, between patron and dependent, in the course of which the cardinal rallying his favorite, declared the droit d’aubaine was worth another week’s waiting, and the affairs of De Pontis would stand at the expiration exactly where they did. The count left the presence much disappointed, remarking that he was happy to find Monseigneur regaining the feelings of youth—if a taste for beauty were a criterion. Richelieu only smiled, for the count was a useful man.
Elsewhere, Fontrailles swore horribly at the delay, and vowed vengeance against all who stood in the way of his desires. His creditors were gaping for their claims, and there were debts of honor unpaid. This statement Mademoiselle might rely on.
“Alas!” exclaimed Marguerite, “I tremble for my father’s kind friend, Monsieur Giraud, he will fall a sacrifice to the count’s rage. It is far better we should abandon the droit than expose so worthy a man to peril.”
In explanation, she ventured to inform François of the advocate’s intention. But Pedro Olivera’s statement of claim on Fontrailles—where was it? demanded the youth eagerly. The maiden was silent! Had she disclosed aught concerning himself to Monsieur Giraud? Marguerite repeated what had passed on that topic.
De Romainville, who observed her hesitation, assured her that in aught which concerned her father’s affairs she might safely confide in him. He did not profess to be disinterested—he might even claim a boon, but on this point would be silent till M. De Pontis were liberated. That she might know the history of one who asked her confidence, he related that his father had been sacrificed by a similar juggle to that attempted against Monsieur, and for the benefit of the same party, Fontrailles. The count pretending to pity his orphan state—and well he might, as he had himself wrought the calamity—recommended him to the cardinal. He served his eminence, it is true, and on occasions usefully, but hatred to the two prominent authors of his father’s ruin was not diminished thereby; and this feeling had twice produced a refractoriness leading to incarceration in the guard-room of the Palais-Cardinal.
Sympathizing with De Pontis, detesting Fontrailles and the tyrannical Richelieu—but for whom he might still have had a parent alive, and been himself very different from the reckless scapegrace he was now accounted—he might, he thought, be fairly trusted with any scheme which promised revenge on either the count or his patron.
Monsieur Giraud, he said, acted wisely in attacking Fontrailles in the way pointed out, but there was one matter which it behoved him to take care of with the count, which was to have especial regard that he be not robbed of the documents.
Marguerite replied that that subject had been already considered by the advocate, and he had bestowed the papers elsewhere.
“They are not safe from Fontrailles with Mademoiselle De Pontis,” said the page, smiling.
“Would they be safe with the Sieur De Romainville in the Palais-Cardinal?” asked the maiden significantly.