Memoirs of a Physician (19 page)
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petards, are all satisfactory. To morrow, after my interview with the king, I shall add a. post scriptum to my letter, and send it to you by the same courier.”
Balsamo, with his left hand extended, seemed to drag each word painfully from the voice ; while with the right hand he hastily took down those lines, which M. de Choiseul was at the same time writing in his closet at Versailles.
” Is that all ? ” asked Balsamo.
” That is all.”
” What is the duke doing now ? “
” Refolds the paper on which he has just written, and puts it into a small portfolio which he takes from the pocket in the left side of his coat.”
” You hear,” said Balsamo to the almost stupef ed countess.
” Well ?”
” Then he sends away the courier.”
” What does he say to him ? “
” I only heard the end of the sentence.”
” What was it?”
” ‘ At one o’clock at the postern-gate of Trianon.’ The courier bows and retires.”
” Yes,” said Eichelieu, ” he makes an appointment to meet the courier when his audience is over, as he says in his letter.”
Balsamo made a sign with his hand to command silence.
” What is the duke doing now ? ” he asked.
” He rises. He holds the letter he has received in his hand. He goes straight toward his bed, enters the passage between it and the wall, and presses a spring which opens an iron box. He throws the letter into the box and closes it.”
” Oh ! ” cried the countess and the duke, turning pale, ”this is in truth magical.”
*’ Do you know now what you wish to know, madame ?” asked Balsamo.
“Count,” said
Mme.
Dubarry, approaching him with terror, ” you have rendered me a service which I would pay with ten years of my life, or rather which I can never pay. Ask what you wish.”
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” Oh ! madame, you know we have already an account.”
” Speak, say what you wish.”
” The time has not yet come.”
” Well, when it comes, if it were a million “
Balsamo smiled.
” Oh, countess ! ” exclaimed the marshal, ” you should rather ask the count for a million. Cannot a man who knows what he knows, and who sees what he sees, discover diamonds and gold in the bosom of the earth as easily as he discovers the thoughts in the heart of man ? “
” Then, count,” said the countess, ” I bow myself before you in my weakness.”
” No, countess ; one day you will acquit your debt to-ward me. I shall give you the opportunity.”
‘ Count,” said Richelieu to Balsamo, ” I am conquered crushed. I believe.”
” As St. Thomas believed, duke. I do not call that believing, but seeing.”
” Call it what you will, I will make the amende honorable, and in future, if I am asked about sorcerers, I shall know what to say.”
Balsamo smiled.
” Madame,” said he to the countess, ” will you permit me to do one thing now ? “
“Speak.”
” My spirit is wearied. Let me restore it to liberty by a magic formula.”
“Do so, sir.”
” Lor en za,” said Balsamo, in Arabic, “thanks; I love you ; return to your apartment by the same way you came, and wait for me. Go, my beloved.”
” I am very tired,” replied, in Italian, the voice, softer still than even during the evocation. ” Hasten, Acharat.”
” I come,” and the footsteps died away in the distance with the same rustling noise with which they had approached.
Then Balsamo, after a few moments’ interval, during which he convinced himself of Lorenza’s departure, bowed profoundly, but with that majestic dignity to his visitors,
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who returned to their fiacre more like intoxicated persons than human beings gifted with reason, so much were they staggered and absorbed by the, crowd of tumultuous ideas which assailed them.
CHAPTER XIX.
DISGRACE.
THE next morning, as the great clock of Versailles struck eleven, King Louis XV. issued from his apartment, and crossing the adjoining gallery, called in a loud and stern voice :
” Monsieur de la Vrilliere ! “
The king was pale, and seemed agitated. The more he endeavored to hide his emotion, the more evident it became from the embarrassment of his looks, and the rigid tension of his usually impassible features.
A deathlike stillness pervaded the long ranks of courtiers, among whom the Duke de Richelieu and Count Jean Dubarry might be seen, both seemingly calm, and affecting indifference or ignorance as to what was going on.
The Duke de la Vrilliere approached, and tookalettre-de-cachet from the king’s hand.
“Is the Duke de Choiseul at Versailles?” asked the king.
“Yes, sire. He returned from Paris yesterday, at two o’clock in the afternoon.”
” Is he in his hotel, or in the chdteau ?”
” In the chateau, sire.”
” Carry this order to him, duke,” said the king.
A shudder ran through the whole file of spectators, who bent down whispering, like ears of corn under the blast of a tornado.
The king frowning, as if he wished to add terror to the scene, haughtily entered his closet, followed by the cap-tuin of the guard and the commandant of ‘the light horse.
All eyes followed M. de Vrilliere, who slowly crossed the courtyard and entered M. de ChoiseuPs apartments,
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rather uneasy at the commission with which he was charged.
During this time, loud and eager conversations, some threatening, some timid, burst forth on all sides around the old marshal, who pretended to be even more surprised than the others, but who, thanks to his cunning smile, duped no one.
M. de la Vrilliere returned, and was immediately surrounded.
‘ Well ? ” cried every one.
* Well ? It was an order of banishment.” ‘ < Of banishment ? “
* Yes, in due form.”
‘ Then you read it, duke ?” ‘I have.” ‘Positively.” Judge for yourselves.”
And the Duke de la Vrilliere repeated the following lines, which he had treasured up with the retentive mem-ory which marks the true courtier :
“MY COUSIN, The displeasure which your conduct causes me, obliges me to exile you to Chanteloup, whither you must repair in twenty-four hours from this time. I should have sent you further, had it not been for the particular esteem I feel for Madame de Choiseul, whose health is exceedingly interesting to me. Take care that your conduct does not force me to proceed to ulterior measures.”
” A long murmur ran through the group which surrounded M. de la Vrilliere.
” And what did he reply to you, Monsieur de St. Florentin ? “asked Richelieu, affecting not to give to the duke either his new name or his new title.
“He replied, ‘Duke, I feel convinced of the great pleasure yon feel in being the bearer of this letter,”
” That was harsh, my poor duke,” said Jean.
” What could you expect, count ? A man does not receive such a tile thrown upon his head without crying out a little.”
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” Do you know what he will do ?” asked Richelieu.
” Most probably obey.”
” Hum ! ” said the marshal.
” Here is the duke coming,” said Jean, who stood as sentinel at the window.
” Coming here I ”’ exclaimed the Duke de la Vrilliere.
” I told you so, Monsieur de St. Florentin.”
” He is crossing the courtyard,” continued Jean.
-Alone?”
” Quite alone his portfolio under his arm.”
“Oh! good heavens !” said Richelieu, ” if yesterday’s scene should be repeated ! “
” Do not speak of it ; I shudder at the thought,” replied Jean.
He had scarcely spoken, when the Duke de Choiseul appeared at the entrance of the gallery, with head erect and confident look, alarming his enemies, or those who would declare themselves such on his disgrace, by this calm and piercing glance.
As no one expected this step after what had happened, no one opposed his progress.
” Are you sure you read correctly, duke ? ” asked Jean.
“Pairbleu !”
” And he returns after such a letter as you have described ? “
” Upon my honor, I cannot understand it.”
“The king will send him to the Bastile.”
” That would cause a fearful commotion.”
” I should almost pity him.”
” Look ; he is going to the king ! It is incredible ! “
In fact, without paying attention to the show of resistance which the astounded usher offered, M. de Choiseul entered the king’s closet. Louis, on seeing him, uttered an exclamation of astonishment.
The duke held his lettre-de-cachet in his hand, and showed it to the king almost smilingly. 1
” Sire,” said he, ” as your majesty had the goodness to forewarn me yesterday, I have indeed received a letter to-day.”
7 DUMAS VOL. VII.
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“Yes, sir,” replied the king.
” And as your majesty had the goodness yesterday to tell me not to look upon any letter as serious which was not ratified by the express words of the king, I have come to request an explanation.”
” It will be very short, my lord duke,” replied the king. ” To-day the letter is valid.”
” Valid ! ” said the duke. ” So offensive a letter to so devoted a servant ? “
” A devoted servant, sir, does not make his master play a ridiculous part.”
” Sire,” replied the minister, haughtily, “I was born near the throne, that I might comprehend its majesty.”
” Sir,” replied the king, in a severe voice, “I will not keep you in suspense. Yesterday evening you received a courier from Madame de Grammont in your closet at Versailles.”
“It is true, sire.”
” He brought you a letter ?”
” Are a brother and sister forbidden to correspond ? “
” Wait a moment, if you please. I know the contents of that letter.”
” Oh, sire ! “
” Here it is. I took the trouble to copy it with my own hand.”
And the king handed to the duke an exact copy of the letter he had received.
” Sire ! “
“Do not deny it, duke ; you placed the letter in an iron coffer standing at your bedside.”
The duke became pale as a specter.
” That is not all,” continued the king, pitilessly ; “you have replied to Madame de Grammont’ s letter. I know the contents of that also. It is there in your portfolio, and only wants the post scriptum, which you are to add when you leave me. You see I am well informed, am I not ? “
The duke wiped his forehead, on which the large drops of perspiration were standing, bowed without uttering a
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word, and left the closet, tottering as if he had been struck with apoplexy. Had it not been for the fresh air which fanned his face, he must have fallen.
But he was a man of strong will. When he reached the gallery he had regained his strength, and with erect forehead passed the hedge of courtiers, and entered his apartments in order to burn and lock up several papers.
A quarter of an hour afterward, he >aft the chateau in his carriage.
M. de Choiseul’s disgrace was a thunderbolt which set all France in flames.
The parliament, sustained in reality by the tolerance of the minister, proclaimed that the state had lost its firmest pillar. The nobility supported him as being one of themselves. The clergy felt themselves soothed by this man, whose personal dignity, often carried even to the extent of pride, gave almost an appearance of sanctity to his ministerial functions.
The encyclopedist or the philosophical party, who were very numerous, and also very strong, because they were re-enforced by all the enlightened, clever, and caviling spirits of the age, cried out loudly when the Government was taken from the hands of a minister who admired Voltaire, pensioned the ” Encyclopedia ” and preserved, by developing them into more useful manner, the traditions of
Mme.
de Pompadour, the female Mecaenas of the writers of the ” Mercure,” and of philosophy in general.
The people had far better grounds for complaint than any of the other malcontents. They also complained, but without reasoning, and, as they always do, they hit the truth and laid bare the bleeding wound.
M. de Choiseul, absolutely speaking, was a bad minister, and a bad citizen ; but relatively he was a paragon of virtue, of morality, and of patriotism. When the people, dying of hunger, in the fields, heard of his majesty’s prod-igality, and of
Mme.
Dubarry’s ruinous whims, when open warnings were sent him, such as ” L’homme aux quarante 6cus,” or advices like *’ Le Contrat Social ‘ and secret revelations like the ” Nouvelles a la main ‘ and
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the ” Idees singulieres d’un bon citoyen,” they were terrified at the prospect of falling back into the impure hands of the favorite, less respectable than a collier’s wife, as Bauveau said, and into the hands of the favorite’s favorites ; and, wearied with so much suffering, they were alarmed to behold the future looking even blacker than ever.
It was not that the people, who had strong antipathies, had also strong sympathies. They did not like the parliament, because they who ought to have been their natural protectors, had always abandoned them for idle inquiries, questions of precedence, or selfish interests ; and because, dazzled by the borrowed light of the royal omnipotence, they imagined themselves something like an aristocracy, occupying an intermediate place between the nobility and the people.
They disliked the uo’bility from instinct and from mem-ory. They feared the sword as much as they hated the church. Their position could not, therefore, bo affected by the disgrace of M. de Choiseul, but they heard the complaints of the nobility, of the clergy, of the parliament, and this noise, joined to their own murmurs, made an uproar which intoxicated them.
The consequence of these feelings was regret, and a sort of a quasi-popularity for the name of Choiseul.
All Paris the word in this case can be justified by the facts accompanied the exile on his way to Chanteloup as far as the town gates.
