The Bath Keepers Volume Ii Part 62

"Pardon me, monsieur le comte, for entering the room without being summoned; but madame la comtesse is most desirous to see you; she is bringing mademoiselle."

"Very well; in one instant. First, open that cupboard yonder; the key is in the lock; that is right. In the left-hand drawer you will find a phial; give it to me."

The servant obeyed his master's orders, and brought him a small phial containing a yellowish liquid. Leodgard took it, examined it carefully, and placed it under his pillow, saying:

"Now, you may inform madame la comtesse that I am ready to receive her."

Bathilde was evidently waiting in an adjoining room, for she appeared almost instantly with Blanche, who ran to her father's bed, crying:

"Friend! papa! Blanche is very glad you came back. You sick; we are going to take care of you, like we did before. But then you won't go away any more, will you? you will stay with us?"

"No! oh, no! I shall not go away any more, darling girl!" replied Leodgard, motioning to Bathilde to place Blanche on the bed, so that he might kiss her. And in a moment he held her lovely face against his breast and covered her brow with kisses, while great tears escaped from his eyes, which had never wept.

Bathilde, profoundly moved, knelt beside the bed, murmuring:

"Dear Leodgard! it makes me so happy to see the love that you bear your child! Ah! do not doubt that we will both do our utmost to be worthy of your affection. To live with you will be the sweetest reward of our devotion of every instant, of our zeal to please you in everything."

"Thanks, Bathilde! Give me your hand, that I may press it.--Do you too come near, so that I may kiss your brow."

"O my dear! your lips are burning--your eyes seem more sunken--you are suffering more! Please let me send for the doctor?"

"Do nothing of the sort; I forbid it! In a little while I will rest, and that will cure me; I shall not suffer any more.--Blanche, my child, look at me again. Ah! how lovely you are! how proud we shall be of you! And you will be good, too; I can read it in your face. You love your mother--you will make her happy."

"You, too, papa--I love you, too, with all my heart."

Leodgard raised himself once more to embrace his daughter pa.s.sionately; but a terrifying pallor overspread his features, and Bathilde cried:

"In heaven's name, do at least take some of that cordial that revived you last night!"

"Not now; I need nothing but rest. Adieu, Bathilde! adieu, my daughter!"

"No, not _adieu_, my dear, but _au revoir_! we will return soon."

"Wait until I ring.--Dear darling, go, and pray to the good Lord for me."

"Yes, papa; I will pray to have you get well very quick."

"My dear, if you will allow us to, we might stay with you; we would make no noise."

"Yes, papa, let me stay; I will be very good; I won't play."

"Not now--go; later, later, you may come again. Go, I beg you; leave me!"

Bathilde felt a heavy weight at her heart; she left her husband with profound regret; but she dared not disobey him. She took Blanche away, throwing kisses to her father; while he, surmounting his pain, succeeded in smiling at her once more.

Jarnonville and the officer arrived in due time at the palace occupied by the cardinal. No guards followed them, for the chevalier had given his word not to try to escape, and they knew that he would not break it.

Having escorted Jarnonville to a reception room adjoining Richelieu's cabinet, the officer left him there while he went to notify his eminence. He returned in a few moments and informed his prisoner that the cardinal begged him to wait until he was at liberty.

The chevalier was left alone, and half an hour pa.s.sed, during which he saw no one. But the time sped very quickly for him; for, having been deeply impressed by all the events which he had witnessed, and in which he now found himself playing an important part, he gave no thought to the risk he himself was running; he thought of the tears Bathilde would shed, of poor little Blanche, who would soon have no father; and he said to himself:

"But it must be so! Yes, he must cease to live; his death will not lessen his crimes, but it will make it possible to conceal them."

At last, a servant appeared and informed Jarnonville that the cardinal could receive him, and the chevalier was ushered into Richelieu's study.

The minister was alone; dressed in his red soutane, and pale, thin, fatigued by overwork. That fragile, ailing man, who made all Europe tremble, retained in his glance, instinct with fire and vivacity, all the youthful vigor that his body had lost.

Seated at his desk, examining reports, Richelieu toyed with a cat that lay on his knees, while two others played on a rug at his feet. When the Sire de Jarnonville entered, the cardinal raised his head, looked at him a few seconds, and said at last in a tone that bore no trace of anger:

"What is this that I hear, Sire de Jarnonville? That you have been fighting a duel with the Comte de Marvejols? Is that the truth?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"But you must be familiar with the edicts concerning single combats. I have been compelled to put a curb upon this barbarous custom, this mania that men have for killing one another for an idle word! If I had not regulated the matter, the whole of the king's court would have taken the field!--You know, then, monsieur, that it is a capital offence?"

"I know it, monseigneur."

"And that did not stop you!--What motive had you, grave enough to induce you to defy the law?--Come, speak, chevalier. I thought that you were a friend to Comte Leodgard; you were his child's G.o.dfather, I believe."

"I acted in place of the old Marquis de Marvejols--that is true."

"You take a deep interest in the young countess--and you fight with her husband!--What was the cause of this duel?"

Jarnonville, who did not lie readily, especially when it was necessary to invent a long story, was considerably embarra.s.sed beneath Richelieu's piercing gaze, and faltered:

"Sometimes, monseigneur, between two persons who meet often, a word too lightly spoken is enough.--Comte Leodgard is quick to take offence--and--and I myself lose my head sometimes."

While Jarnonville was seeking his phrases, the cardinal, who was watching him closely, glanced at the short, broad sword that hung at his belt. He frowned, and said, interrupting him:

"You have a peculiar sword there, chevalier?"

"This sword--ah, yes! I do not--er--wear it usually."

"I think not, for I have never seen it upon you. Whence have you it?"

"Why, I found it with other weapons--which belonged to my father."

"Ah! by the way, have you heard aught of the charges made by a young woman with respect to Comte Leodgard?"

"Not until this morning, monseigneur."

"You do not give credit to them, do you?"

"How can I do so, monseigneur, when I know that it was I who wounded the count, in a duel?"

"Very true. Let me look at this sword which came to you from your father; I am curious to examine it."

Jarnonville detached the weapon from his belt and handed it, in the scabbard, to Richelieu; but he unsheathed it, and read in gilt letters on the steel the name _Giovanni_. Without making a sign, the cardinal instantly replaced the sword in its scabbard, saying: