André looked at her sorely puzzled. Madame invited him to sit beside her on the settee. “What is that secret?” she began. “Simply this: Behind the ministers’ backs, contrary indeed to their despatches and their public statements, His Majesty is intriguing with the Jacobites and others too. More, His Majesty both in Paris and elsewhere spies on his own servants and frequently thwarts them. The Chevalier was his secretary and confidant. But there will be no more Chevalier. There will henceforth only be,” she sprung up with a dramatic gesture, “the Marquise de Pompadour.”
“But why,” asked André slowly, “why does His Majesty do it?”
“God knows. It is his foible, his passion. But so long as he had secrets from me I was in constant peril. To-day I have learned all that there is to know; and now,” she paused, “and now, please Heaven, the King will be in my hands alone.”
André was beginning to understand. “The King, in fact,” he commented, “says one thing to the English ministers who desire peace and another to the Jacobites; that may prove desperately dangerous if it is discovered.”
“Exactly. And the master of his secret is master of His Majesty. Ah, my friend, my foes are learning that already, but it will need some sharper lessons before they submit. They shall have those lessons, I promise you. I have accepted the challenge of the Court and we shall see what we shall see.”
“Yes, Madame,” André said with sincere admiration, “you will be what you desire to be, the ruler of France.”
Madame de Pompadour drifted into a silent reverie. The dreams could be read in her parted lips and faint smile as the soft light played on every supple curve which this woman’s genius knew how to suggest with such subtle restraint.
“But one person can destroy me,” she remarked presently; “‘No. 101.’”
André was startled by the gravity of her voice. “It is the truth,” she was speaking now with nervous rapidity. “If, which God forbid, the King’s secret intrigues are betrayed by treachery, to save his honour and himself he will, must, find a victim. That victim will be I. Yes, yes, I know the game is dangerous, but play it I must because the King insists. Vicomte, ‘No. 101’ must never, never succeed in securing any of the King’s secrets as has happened in the past.”
“Surely, Madame, you and I can prevent that.”