CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
The same day, toward two o'clock in the afternoon, while D'Harmental, profiting by Buvat's absence, was repeating to Bathilde for the thousandth time that he loved her, Nanette entered, and announced that some one was waiting in his own room on important business. D'Harmental, anxious to know who this inopportune visitor could be, went to the window, and saw the Abbe Brigaud walking up and down his room. D'Harmental instantly took leave of Bathilde, and went up to his own apartments.
"Well," said the abbe, "while you are quietly making love to your neighbor, fine things are happening."
"What things?" asked D'Harmental.
"Do you not know?"
"I know absolutely nothing, except that – unless what you have to tell me is of the greatest importance – I should like to strangle you for having disturbed me; so take care, and if you have not any news worthy of the occasion, invent some."
"Unfortunately," replied the abbe, "the reality leaves little to the imagination."
"Indeed, my dear abbe," said D'Harmental, "you look in a terrible fright. What has happened? Tell me."
"Oh, only that we have been betrayed by some one. That the Marshal de Villeroy was arrested this morning at Versailles, and that the two letters from Philip V. are in the hands of the regent."
D'Harmental perfectly understood the gravity of the situation, but his face exhibited the calmness which was habitual to him in moments of danger.
"Is that all?" he asked, quietly.
"All for the present; and, if you do not think it enough, you are difficult to satisfy."
"My dear abbe," said D'Harmental, "when we entered on this conspiracy, it was with almost equal chances of success and failure. Yesterday, our chances were ninety to a hundred; to-day they are only thirty; that is all."
"I am glad to see that you do not easily allow yourself to be discouraged," said Brigaud.
"My dear abbe," said D'Harmental, "at this moment I am a happy man, and I see everything on the bright side. If you had taken me in a moment of sadness, it would have been quite the reverse, and I should have replied 'Amen' to your 'De Profundis.'"
"And your opinion?"
"Is that the game is becoming perplexed, but is not yet lost. The Marshal de Villeroy is not of the conspiracy, does not even know the names of the conspirators. Philip V.'s letters – as far as I remember them – do not name anybody; and the only person really compromised is the Prince de Cellamare. The inviolability of his character protects him from any real danger. Besides, if our plan has reached the Cardinal Alberoni, Monsieur de Saint-Aignan must serve as hostage."
"There is truth in what you say."
"And from whom have you this news?" asked the chevalier.
"From Valef, who had it from Madame de Maine; who, on receipt of the news, went to the Prince of Cellamare himself."
"We must see Valef."
"I have appointed him to meet me here, and on my way I stopped at the Marquis de Pompadour's. I am astonished that he is not here before me."
"Raoul," said a voice on the staircase.
"Stay, it is he," cried D'Harmental, running to the door and opening it.
"Thank you," said Valef, "for your assistance, which is very seasonable, for I was just going away, convinced that Brigaud must have made a mistake, and that no Christian could live at such a height, and in such a pigeon-hole. I must certainly bring Madame de Maine here, that she may know what she owes you."
"God grant," said the Abbe Brigaud, "that we may not all be worse lodged a few days hence!"
"Ah! you mean the Bastille! It is possible, abbe; but at least one does not go to the Bastille of one's own accord; moreover, it is a royal lodging, which raises it a little, and makes it a place where a gentleman may live without degradation; but a place like this – fie, abbe!"
"If you knew what I have found here," said D'Harmental, a little piqued, "you would be as unwilling to leave it as I am."
"Ah, some little bourgeoise; some Madame Michelin, perhaps. Take care, D'Harmental; these things are only allowed to Richelieu. With you and me, who are perhaps worth as much as he is, but are unfortunately not quite so much in fashion, it will not do."
"Well," said the Abbe Brigaud, "although your conversation is somewhat frivolous, I hear it with pleasure, since it assures me that our affairs are not so bad as I thought."
"On the contrary, the conspiracy is gone to the devil."
"How so?"
"I scarcely thought they would leave me time to bring you the news."
"Were you nearly arrested then, Valef?" asked D'Harmental.
"I only escaped by a hair's breadth."
"How did it happen, baron?"
"You remember, abbe, that I left you to go to the Prince de Cellamare?"
"Yes."
"Well, I was there when they came to seize his papers."
"Have they seized the prince's papers?"
"All except what we burned, which unfortunately were the smaller number."
"Then we are all lost," said the abbe.
"Why, my dear abbe, how you throw the helve after the hatchet!"
"But, Valef, you have not told us how it happened," said D'Harmental.
"My dear chevalier, imagine the most ridiculous thing in the world. I wish you had been there: we should have laughed fit to kill ourselves. It would have enraged that fellow Dubois."
"What! was Dubois himself at the ambassador's?"
"In person, abbe. Imagine the Prince de Cellamare and I quietly sitting by the corner of the fire, taking out letters from a little casket, and burning those which seemed to deserve the honors of an auto-da-fé, when all at once his valet-de-chambre enters, and announces that the hotel of the embassy is invested by a body of musketeers, and that Dubois and Leblanc wish to speak to him. The object of this visit is not difficult to guess. The prince – without taking the trouble to choose – empties the caskets into the fire, pushes me into a dressing closet, and orders that they shall be admitted. The order was useless. Dubois and Leblanc were at the door. Fortunately, neither one nor the other had seen me."
"Well, I see nothing droll as yet," said Brigaud.
"This is just where it begins," replied Valef. "Remember that I was in the closet, seeing and hearing everything. Dubois entered, and stretching out his weasel's head to watch the Prince de Cellamare, who, wrapped in his dressing-gown, stood before the fire to give the papers time to burn.
"'Monsieur,' said the prince, in that phlegmatic manner you know he has, 'may I know to what event I owe the honor of this visit?'
"'Oh, mon Dieu, monseigneur!' said Dubois, 'to a very simple thing – a desire which Monsieur Leblanc and I had to learn a little of your papers, of which,' added he, showing the letters of Philip V., 'these two patterns have given us a foretaste.'"
"How!" said Brigaud, "these letters seized at ten o'clock at Versailles are in Dubois's hands at one o'clock!"
"As you say, abbe. You see that they traveled faster than if they had been put in the post."
"And what did the prince say then?" asked D'Harmental.
"Oh! the prince wished to carry it off with a high hand, by appealing to his rights as an envoy; but Dubois, who is not wanting in a certain logic, showed him that he had himself somewhat violated these rights, by covering the conspiracy with his ambassador's cloak. In short, as he was the weakest, he was obliged to submit to what he could not prevent. Besides, Leblanc, without asking permission, had already opened the desk, and examined its contents, while Dubois drew out the drawers of a bureau and rummaged in them. All at once Cellamare left his place, and stopping Leblanc, who had just taken a packet of papers tied with red ribbon —
"'Pardon, monsieur,' said he, 'to each one his prerogatives. These are ladies' letters.'
"'Thanks for your confidence,' said Dubois, not in the least disconcerted, but rising and taking the papers from the hand of Leblanc, 'I am accustomed to these sort of secrets, and yours shall be well kept.'
"At this moment, looking toward the fire, he saw – in the midst of the burned letters – a paper still untouched, and darting toward it, he seized it just as the flames were reaching it. The movement was so rapid that the ambassador could not prevent it, and the paper was in Dubois's hands.
"'Peste!' said the prince, seeing Dubois shaking his fingers, 'I knew that the regent had skillful spies, but I did not know that they were brave enough to go in the fire.'
"'Ma foi! prince,' said Dubois, unfolding the paper, 'they are well rewarded for their bravery, see.'
"The prince cast his eyes over the paper; I do not know what it contained, but I know that the prince turned pale as death; and that, as Dubois burst out laughing, Cellamare broke in pieces a little marble statue which was near his hand.
"'I am glad it was not I,' said Dubois, coldly, and putting the paper in his pocket.
"'Every one in turn, monsieur; Heaven is just!' said the ambassador.
"'Meanwhile,' said Dubois, 'as we have got what we wanted, and have not much time to lose to-day, we will set about affixing the seals.'
"'The seals here!' cried the ambassador, exasperated.
"'With your permission,' replied Dubois; 'proceed, Monsieur Leblanc.'
"Leblanc drew out from a bag bands and wax, all ready prepared. They began operations with the desk and the bureau, then they advanced toward the door of my closet.
"'No,' cried the prince, 'I will not permit – '
"'Gentlemen,' said Dubois, opening the door, and introducing into the room two officers of musketeers, 'the ambassador of Spain is accused of high treason against the State. Have the kindness to accompany him to the carriage which is waiting, and take him – you know where; if he resists, call eight men, and take him by force.'"
"Well, and what did the prince do then?" asked Brigaud.
"What you would have done in his place, I presume, my dear abbe. He followed the two officers, and five minutes afterward your humble servant found himself under seal."
"How the devil did you get out?" cried D'Harmental.
"That is the beauty of it. Hardly was the prince gone, when Dubois called the valet-de-chambre.
"'What are you called?' asked Dubois.
"'Lapierre, at your service, monseigneur.'
"'My dear Leblanc,' said Dubois, 'explain, if you please, to Monsieur Lapierre, what are the penalties for breaking seals.'
"'The galleys,' replied Leblanc.
"'My dear Monsieur Lapierre,' continued Dubois, in a mild tone, 'you hear. If you like to spend a few years rowing on one of his majesty's vessels, touch one of these seals and the affair is done. If, on the contrary, a hundred louis are agreeable to you, keep them faithfully, and in three days the money shall be given you.'
"'I prefer the hundred louis,' said the scoundrel.
"'Well, then, sign this paper. We constitute you guardian of the prince's cabinet.'
"'I am at your orders, monseigneur,' replied Lapierre; and he signed.
"'Now,' said Dubois, 'you understand all the responsibility you have undertaken?'
"'Yes, monseigneur.'
"'And submit to it.'
"'I do.'
"'Now, Leblanc,' said Dubois, 'we have nothing further to do here, and,' added he, showing the paper which he had snatched from the fire, 'I have all I wanted.'
"And at these words he left, followed by Leblanc.
"Lapierre, as soon as he had seen them off, ran to the cabinet, and exclaimed, 'Quick, baron, we must profit by our being alone for you to leave.'
"'Did you know I was here then, fellow?'
"'Pardieu! I should not have accepted the office of guardian if I had not. I saw you go in, and I thought you would not like to stay there for three days.'
"'And you were right; a hundred louis for your good idea.'
"'Mon Dieu! what are you doing?' cried Lapierre.
"'I am trying to get out.'
"'Oh, not by the door! You would not send a poor fellow to the galleys; besides, they have taken the key with them.'
"'And where am I to get out, then?'
"'Raise your head.'
"'It is raised.'
"'Look in the air.'
"'I am looking.'
"'To your right. Do you not see anything?'
"'Yes, a little window.'
"'Well, get on a chair, on anything you find; it opens into the alcove, let yourself slip now, you will fall on the bed – that is it. You have not hurt yourself, monsieur?'
"'No, I hope the prince will have as comfortable a bed where they are taking him.'
"'And I hope monsieur will not forget the service I have rendered him.'
"'Oh, the hundred louis? Well, as I do not want to part with money at this moment, take this ring, it is worth three hundred pistoles – you gain six hundred francs on the bargain.'
"'Monsieur is the most generous gentleman I know.'
"'Now, tell me how I must go.'
"'By this little staircase; you will find yourself in the pantry; you must then go through the kitchen into the garden, and go out by the little door.'
"'Thanks for the itinerary.'
"I followed the instructions of Monsieur Lapierre exactly, and here I am."
"And the prince; where is he?" asked the chevalier.
"How do I know? In prison probably."
"Diable! diable! diable!" said Brigaud.
"Well, what do you say to my Odyssey, abbe?"
"I say that it would be very droll if it was not for that cursed paper which Dubois picked out of the cinders."
"Yes," said Valef, "that spoils it."
"And you have not any idea what it could be?"
"Not the least; but never mind, it is not lost, we shall know some day."
At this moment they heard some one coming up the staircase. The door opened, and Boniface appeared.
"Pardon, Monsieur Raoul," said he, "but it is not you I seek, it is Father Brigaud."
"Never mind, my dear Boniface, you are welcome. Baron, allow me to present you to my predecessor in my room. The son of our worthy landlady, and godson of the Abbe Brigaud."
"Oh, you have friends barons, Monsieur Raoul! what an honor for our house!"
"Well," said the abbe, "you were looking for me you said. What do you want?"
"I want nothing. It was my mother who sent for you."
"What does she want? Do you know?"
"She wants to know why the parliament is to assemble to-morrow."
"The parliament assemble to-morrow!" cried Valef and D'Harmental together.
"And how did your mother know?"
"I told her."
"And how did you know?"
"At the office. Maitre Joullu was with the president when the order arrived."
"Well, tell your mother I will come to her directly."
"She will expect you. Adieu, Monsieur Raoul."
And Monsieur Boniface went out, far from suspecting the effect he had produced on his listeners.
"It is some coup-d'état which is preparing," murmured D'Harmental.
"I will go to Madame de Maine to warn her," said Valef.
"And I to Pompadour for news," said Brigaud.
"And I," said D'Harmental, "remain here; if I am wanted, abbe, you know where I am."
"But if you were not at home, chevalier?"
"Oh! I should not be far off. Open the window, clap your hands, and I should come."
Valef and Brigaud went away together, and D'Harmental went back to Bathilde, whom he found very uneasy. It was five o'clock in the afternoon, and Buvat had not returned – it was the first time such a thing had ever happened.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
PARLIAMENTARY JUSTICE
The following day, about seven o'clock in the morning, Brigaud came to fetch D'Harmental, and found the young man ready and waiting. They both wrapped themselves in their cloaks, drew down their hats over their eyes, and proceeded through the Rue de Cléry, the Place des Victoires, and the garden of the Palais Royal.
On reaching the Rue de l'Echelle they began to perceive an unusual stir. All the avenues leading toward the Tuileries were guarded by detachments of musketeers and light horse, and the people, expelled from the court and gardens of the Tuileries, crowded into the Place du Carrousel. D'Harmental and Brigaud mixed with the mob.
Having arrived at the place where the triumphal arch now stands, they were accosted by an officer of Gray Musketeers, wrapped in a large cloak like themselves. It was Valef.
"Well, baron," asked Brigaud, "what news?"
"Ah! it is you, abbe," said Valef; "we have been looking for you, Laval, Malezieux, and myself. I have just left them; they must be somewhere near. Let us stop here; it will not be long before they find us. Do you know anything yourself?"
"No, nothing. I called at Malezieux's, but he had already gone out."
"Say that he was not yet come home. We remained at the Arsenal all night."
"And no hostile demonstration has been made?" asked D'Harmental.
"None. Monsieur le Duc de Maine, and Monsieur le Comte de Toulouse were summoned for the regent's council, which is to be held before the sitting of the parliament. At half-past six they were both at the Tuileries, so Madame de Maine, in order to get the news as soon as possible, has come and installed herself in her superintendent's apartments."
"Is it known what has become of the Prince de Cellamare?" asked D'Harmental.
"He is sent to Orleans, in a chaise and four, in the company of a gentleman of the king's household, and an escort of a dozen light horse."
"And is nothing known about the paper which Dubois picked out of the cinders?" asked Brigaud. – "Nothing."
"What does Madame de Maine think?"
"That he is brewing something against the legitimated princes, and that he will profit by this to take away some more of their privileges. This morning she lectured her husband sharply, and he promised to remain firm, but she does not rely upon him."
"And Monsieur de Toulouse?"
"We saw him yesterday evening, but, you know, my dear abbe, there is nothing to be done with his modesty, or rather his humility. He always thinks that they have done too much for him, and is ready to abandon to the regent anything that is asked of him."
"By-the-by, the king?"
"Well, the king – "
"Yes, how has he taken the arrest of his tutor?"
"Ah! do you not know? It seems that there was a compact between the marshal and Monsieur de Frejus, that if one of them left his majesty, the other should leave immediately – yesterday morning Monsieur de Frejus disappeared."
"And where is he?"
"God knows! And so the king, who had taken the loss of his marshal very well, was inconsolable at that of his bishop."
"And how do you know all that?"
"Through the Duc de Richelieu, who went yesterday, about two o'clock, to Versailles, to pay his respects to the king, and who found his majesty in despair in the midst of the china and ornaments which he had broken. Unfortunately, Richelieu, instead of encouraging the king's grief, made him laugh by telling him a hundred stories, and almost consoled him by helping him to break the rest of the china and ornaments."
At this moment an individual clothed in a long advocate's robe, and with a square cap, passed near the group which was formed by Brigaud, D'Harmental, and Valef, humming the burden of a song made on the marshal after the battle of Ramillies. Brigaud turned round, and, under the disguise, thought he recognized Pompadour. On his part the advocate stopped, and approached the group in question. The abbe had no longer any doubt. It was really the marquis.
"Well, Maitre Clement," said he, "what news from the palace?"
"Oh!" answered Pompadour, "good news, particularly if it be true; they say that the parliament refuses to come to the Tuileries."
"Vive Dieu!" cried Valef, "that will reconcile me with the red robes. But they will not dare."
"Why not? You know that Monsieur de Mesme is for us, and has been named president through the influence of Monsieur de Maine."
"Yes, that is true, but that is long since," said Brigaud; "and if you have nothing better to rely upon, Maitre Clement, I should advise you not to count upon him."
"Particularly," answered Valef, "as he has just obtained from the regent the payment of five hundred thousand francs of his salary."
"Oh, oh!" said D'Harmental, "see, it appears to me that something new is going on. Are they not coming out of the regent's council?"
Indeed, a great movement was taking place in the court of the Tuileries, and the two carriages of the Duc de Maine and the Comte de Toulouse left their post, and approached the clock pavilion. At the same instant they saw the two brothers appear. They exchanged few words, each got into his own carriage, and the two vehicles departed at a rapid pace by the waterside wicket.
For ten minutes Brigaud, D'Harmental, Pompadour, and Valef were lost in conjectures regarding this event, which, having been remarked by others as well as by them, had made a sensation among the crowd, but without being able to assign it to its proper cause. Then they noticed Malezieux, who appeared to be looking for them: they went to him, and by his discomposed face they judged that the information which he had to bring was not comforting.
"Well," asked Pompadour, "have you any idea of what has been going on?"
"Alas!" answered Malezieux, "I am afraid that all is lost."
"You know that the Duc de Maine and the Comte de Toulouse have left the council?" asked Valef.
"I was on the quay when he passed in his carriage, and he recognized me, and stopped the carriage, and sent me this little pencil note by his valet-de-chambre."
"Let us see," said Brigaud, and he read:
"I do not know what is plotting against us, but the regent invited us – Toulouse and me – to leave the council. That invitation appeared to me an order, and, as all resistance would have been useless, seeing that we have in the council only four or five voices, upon which we cannot count, I was obliged to obey. Try and see the duchesse, who must be at the Tuileries, and tell her that I am retiring to Rambouillet, where I shall wait for the turn of events.
"Your affectionate,"Louis Auguste."
"The coward," said Valef.
"And these are the men for whom we risk our heads," murmured Pompadour.
"You are mistaken, my dear marquis," said Brigaud, "we risk our heads on our own account I hope, and not for others. Is not that true, chevalier? Well, what the devil are you about now?"
"Wait, abbe," answered D'Harmental; "I seem to recognize – yes, by Heaven, it is he! You will not go away from this place, gentlemen!"
"No, I answer for myself at least," said Pompadour.
"Nor I," said Valef.
"Nor I," said Malezieux.
"Nor I," said the abbe.
"Well, then, I will rejoin you in an instant."
"Where are you going?" asked Brigaud.
"Do not look, abbe," said D'Harmental, "it is on private business."
Dropping Valef's arm, D'Harmental began to traverse the crowd in the direction of an individual whom he had been following with his eyes for some time, and who, thanks to his personal strength, had approached the gate.
"Captain," said the chevalier, tapping Roquefinette on the shoulder, and hoping that, thanks to the movement occasioned by the approach of the parliament, they should be able to talk without being observed, "can I say a few words to you in private?"
"Yes, chevalier, with the greatest pleasure. What is it?" continued he, drawing back. "I have recognized you for the last five minutes, but it was not my business to speak first."
"And I see with pleasure," said D'Harmental, "that Captain Roquefinette is still prudent."
"Prudentissimo, chevalier; so if you have any new overture to make, out with it."
"No, captain, no; not at present, at least. Besides, the place is not suitable for a conference of that nature. Only I wish to know, in case of my having need of you, whether you still live in the same place?"
"Still, chevalier; I am like a briar – I die where I grow; only, instead of your finding me, as you did the first time, on the first or second floor, you will have to look for me on the fifth or sixth, seeing that, by a very natural see-saw movement, as my funds lower I go up."
"How, captain," said D'Harmental, laughing, and putting his hand in his pocket, "you are in want of money, and you do not address yourself to your friends?"
"I, borrow money!" cried the captain, stopping D'Harmental's liberal intentions with a sign; "no; when I do you a service you make me a present; well and good. When I conclude a bargain you execute the conditions. But I to ask without having a right to ask! It may do for a church rat, but not for a soldier; although I am only a simple gentleman, I am as proud as a duke or a peer; but, pardon me, if you want me, you know where to find me. Au revoir, chevalier! au revoir!"
And, without waiting for D'Harmental's answer, Roquefinette left him, not thinking it safe that they should be seen talking together.
As it was only eleven o'clock in the morning, however, and as in all probability the parliament would not break up till four in the afternoon, and as, no doubt, there was nothing determined on yet, the chevalier thought that, instead of remaining on the Place du Carrousel, he would do better to turn the four hours which he had before him to the profit of his love. Moreover, the nearer he approached to the catastrophe, the more need he felt of seeing Bathilde. Bathilde had become one of the elements of his life; one of the organs necessary to his existence; and, at the moment when he might perhaps be separated from her forever, he did not understand how he could live a single day away from her. Consequently, pressed by the eternal craving for the presence of the loved object, the chevalier, instead of going to look for his companions, went toward the Rue du Temps-Perdu.
D'Harmental found the poor child very uneasy. Buvat had not come home since half-past nine the morning before. Nanette had been to inquire at the library, and to her great astonishment, and the scandal of his fellow-clerks, she had learned that he had not been there for five or six days. Such a derangement in Buvat's habits indicated serious events. On the other hand, the young girl had noticed in Raoul, the day before, a sort of nervous agitation, which, although kept down by determination, gave warning of an important crisis. Thus, joining her old fears to her new agonies, Bathilde felt instinctively that a misfortune, invisible but inevitable, hung above her, and that at any moment it might fall on her devoted head.
But when Bathilde saw Raoul, all fear, past or future, was lost in the happiness of the present. On his part, Raoul, whether it was self-command, or a similar feeling to her own, thought of nothing but Bathilde. Nevertheless, this time the preoccupations on both sides were so powerful that Bathilde could not help expressing her uneasiness to Raoul; he made but little answer, for the absence of Buvat became connected in his mind with some suspicions which he had entertained for a minute, and then cast from him. The time, nevertheless, flowed away with its accustomed rapidity, and four o'clock struck, when the lovers fancied that they had only been together a few minutes. It was the hour at which he generally took his leave.
If Buvat returned, he would probably return at this time. After exchanging a hundred vows, the two young people separated, agreeing, that if anything new happened to either of them, whatever hour of the day or night it might be, they should let the other know directly.
At the door of Madame Denis's house D'Harmental met Brigaud. The sitting was over, and nothing positive was yet known, but vague rumors were afloat that terrible measures had been taken. The information must soon arrive, and Brigaud had fixed a rendezvous with Pompadour and Malezieux at D'Harmental's lodgings, which, as they were the least known, must be the least watched.
In about an hour the Marquis de Pompadour arrived. The parliament had at first wished to make opposition, but everything had given way before the will of the regent. The king of Spain's letters had been read and condemned. It had been decided that the dukes and peers should rank immediately after the princes of the blood. The honors of the legitimated princes were restricted to the simple rank of their peerages. Finally, the Duc de Maine lost the superintendence of the king's education, which was given to the Duc de Bourbon. The Comte de Toulouse alone was maintained, during his lifetime, in his privileges and prerogatives. Malezieux arrived in his turn; he had recently left the duchess. They had just given her notice to quit her apartments in the Tuileries, which belonged henceforward to Monsieur le Duc. Such an affront had, as may easily be understood, exasperated the granddaughter of the great Condé. She had flown into a violent passion, broken all the looking-glasses with her own hands, and had all the furniture thrown out of the window; then, this performance finished, she had got into her carriage, sending Laval to Rambouillet, in order to urge Monsieur de Maine to some vigorous action, and charging Malezieux to assemble all her friends that evening at the Arsenal.
Pompadour and Brigaud cried out against the imprudence of such a meeting. Madame de Maine was evidently watched. To go to the Arsenal the day when they must know that she was the most irritated would be to compromise themselves openly. Pompadour and Brigaud were therefore in favor of going and begging her highness to appoint some other time or place for the rendezvous. Malezieux and D'Harmental were of the same opinion regarding the danger of the step; but they both declared – the first from devotion, the second from a sense of duty – that the more perilous the order was, the more honorable it would be to obey it.
The discussion, as always happens in similar circumstances, began to degenerate into a pretty sharp altercation, when they heard the steps of two persons mounting the stairs. As the three individuals who had appointed a meeting at D'Harmental's were all assembled, Brigaud, who, with his ear always on the qui-vive had heard the sound first, put his finger to his mouth, to impose silence on the disputants. They could plainly hear the steps approaching; then a low whispering, as of two people questioning; finally, the door opened, and gave entrance to a soldier of the French guard, and a little grisette.
The guardsman was the Baron de Valef.
As to the grisette, she threw off the little black veil which hid her face, and they recognized Madame de Maine.