From the Memoirs of a Minister of France. Stanley John Weyman

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ who he was.

      Accustomed to follow a train of thought quickly, and to act; on its conclusion with energy, I had Maignan called and furnished with his instructions before the man had gone twenty paces; and within the minute I had the satisfaction of seeing the two return together. As they passed under the window I heard my servant explaining with the utmost naturalness that he had misunderstood the stranger, and that this was Madame de Beaufort's; after which scarce a minute elapsed before the door of my room opened, and he appeared ushering in young Perrot!

      Or so it seemed to me; and the start of surprise and consternation which escaped the stranger when he first saw me confirmed me in the impression. But a moment later I doubted; so natural was the posture into which the man fell, and so stupid the look of inquiry which he turned first on me and then on Maignan. As he stood before me, shifting his feet and staring about him in vacant wonder, I began to think that I had made a mistake; and, clearly, either I had done so or this young man was possessed of talents and a power of controlling his features beyond the ordinary. He unslung his tools, and saluting me abjectly waited in silence. After a moment's thought, I asked him peremptorily what was his errand with the Duchess de Beaufort.

      "To show her a watch, your excellency," he stammered, his mouth open, his eyes staring. I could detect no flaw in his acting.

      "What are you, then?" I said.

      "A clockmaker, my lord."

      "Has Madame sent for you?"

      "No, my lord," he stuttered, trembling.

      "Do you want to sell her the watch?"

      He muttered that he did; and that he meant no harm by it.

      "Show it to me, then," I said curtly.

      He grew red at that, and seemed for an instant not to understand. But on my repeating the order he thrust his hand into his breast, and producing a parcel began to unfasten it. This he did so slowly that I was soon for thinking that there was no watch in it; but in the end he found one and handed it to me.

      "You did not make this," I said, opening it.

      "No, my lord," he answered; "it is German, and old."

      I saw that it was of excellent workmanship, and I was about to hand it back to him, almost persuaded that I had made a mistake, when in a second my doubts were solved. Engraved on the thick end of the egg, and partly erased by wear, was a dog's head, which I knew to be the crest of the Perrots.

      "So," I said, preparing to return it to him, "you are a clockmaker?"

      "Yes, your excellency," he muttered. And I thought that I caught the sound of a sigh of relief.

      I gave the watch to Maignan to hand to him. "Very well," I said. "I have need of one. The clock in the next room—a gift from his Majesty—is out of order, and at a standstill. You can go and attend to it; and see that you do so skilfully. And do you, Maignan," I continued with meaning, "go with him. When he has made the clock go, let him go; and not before, or you answer for it. You understand, sirrah?"

      Maignan saluted obsequiously, and in a moment hurried young Perrot from the room; leaving me to congratulate myself on the strange and fortuitous circumstance that had thrown him in my way, and enabled me to guard against a RENCONTRE that might have had the most embarassing consequences.

      It required no great sagacity to foresee the next move; and I was not surprised when, about an hour later, I heard a clatter of hoofs outside, and a voice inquiring hurriedly for the Marquis de Rosny. One of my people announced M. de Perrot, and I bade them admit him. In a twinkling he came up, pale with heat, and covered with dust, his eyes almost starting from his head and his cheeks trembling with agitation. Almost before the door was shut, he cried out that we were undone.

      I was willing to divert myself with him for a time, and I pretended to know nothing. "What?" I said, rising. "Has the King met with an accident?"

      "Worse! worse!" he cried, waving his hat with a gesture of despair. "My son—you saw my son yesterday?"

      "Yes," I said.

      "He overheard us!"

      "Not us," I said drily. "You. But what then, M. de Perrot? You are master in your own house."

      "But he is not in my house," he wailed. "He has gone! Fled! Decamped! I had words with him this morning, you understand."

      "About your niece?"

      M. de Perrot's face took a delicate shade of red, and he nodded; he could not speak. He seemed for an instant in danger of some kind of fit. Then he found his voice again. "The fool prated of love! Of love!" he said with such a look—like that of a dying fowl—that I could have laughed aloud. "And when I bade him remember his duty he threatened me. He, that unnatural boy, threatened to betray me, to ruin me, to go to Madame de Beaufort and tell her all—all, you understand. And I doing so much, and making such sacrifices for him!"

      "Yes," I said, "I see that. And what did you do?"

      "I broke my cane on his back," M. de Perrot answered with unction, "and locked him in his room. But what is the use? The boy has no natural feelings!"

      "He got out through the window?"

      Perrot nodded; and being at leisure, now that he had explained his woes, to feel their full depth, shed actual tears of rage and terror; now moaning that Madame would never forgive him, and that if he escaped the Bastille he would lose all his employments and be the laughing-stock of the Court; and now striving to show that his peril was mine, and that it was to my interest to help him.

      I allowed him to go on in this strain for some time, and then, having sufficiently diverted myself with his forebodings, I bade him in an altered voice to take courage. "For I think I know," I said, "where your son is."

      "At Madame's?" he groaned.

      "No; here," I said.

      "MON DIEU! Where?" he cried. And he sprang up, startled out of his lamentations.

      "Here; in my lodging," I answered.

      "My son is here?" he said.

      "In the next room," I replied, smiling indulgently at his astonishment, which was only less amusing than his terror. "I have but to touch this bell, and Maignan will bring him to you."

      Full of wonder and admiration, he implored me to ring and have him brought immediately; since until he had set eyes on him he could not feel safe. Accordingly I rang my hand-bell, and Maignan opened the door. "The clockmaker," I said nodding.

      He looked at me stupidly. "The clock-maker, your excellency?"

      "Yes; bring him in," I said.

      "But—he has gone!" he exclaimed.

      "Gone?" I cried, scarcely able to believe my ears. "Gone, sirrah! and I told you to detain him!"

      "Until he had mended the clock, my lord," Maignan stammered, quite out of countenance. "But he set it going half-an-hour ago; and I let him go, according to your order."

      It is in the face of such CONTRETEMPS as these that СКАЧАТЬ