All the heart and gaiety had already been struck out of the ladies. The Chevalier’s dejected air, so strange to his careless and irrepressible spirit, was the most telling comment on the menace in his news. To the angry indignation and rapid questions of the ladies he now replied with melancholy brevity. The King was infatuated and obdurate, and Madame de Pompadour was plainly determined to make him the instrument of her vulgar vengeance.
“She has captured the King,” the young man remarked in his gloomiest tones. “She will now coerce the Queen. Her ambition is to be mistress of the robes and thus to rule all Versailles.”
The mere suggestion of such an outrage on precedent and etiquette made the ladies speechless with horror. A bourgeoise mistress of the robes! It was unthinkable—blasphemous. As if her Majesty in dressing could take even the simplest garment except from the hands of a princess of the blood or of a duchess.
“You forget, Madame,” the Chevalier remarked drily, “that the King’s will is law. Le Roi gouverne par lui-même.”
They were the words of Louis XIV. To-day they can still be read as the motto of Le Roi Soleil in the centre of the superb ceiling of that Galerie des Glaces at Versailles which enshrines for all generations the imperial ambitions of the king who made it. Arrogant words, but true.
The antechamber became gradually deserted. The Chevalier stood at the window watching the gathering gloom. His dejection was not acting. His boyish face was almost tragic in its gravity. Presently he rose and began to pace up and down, wrestling with his thoughts, until he became suddenly aware that Denise had re-entered and was looking at him in questioning silence.
“Mademoiselle,” he advanced to meet her. “I have no comfort for you. Before long I shall be bidding you adieu for ever.”
Her eyes invited an explanation, but she said nothing.
“I speak seriously,” he proceeded. “You and your friends, Mademoiselle, are aware that I am with you heart and soul in the desire to overthrow this woman who will ruin us all. I have been able in the past, as you know, to do some service to the cause by bringing you information that I learned as His Majesty’s confidential secretary. At your request I have to the best of my power abstained from appearing publicly to be of your party, for His Majesty is suspicious and jealous. But I fear from to-day my services must end.”
“Why?” The single word revealed both anxiety and sympathy.