The Refugees. Arthur Conan Doyle

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "As heaven is my judge, I have no thought of myself. I am fighting with the devil for the king's soul."

      "'Tis the same thing, madame."

      The lady smiled. "If the king's body were in peril, I could call on the aid of his faithful guards, and not less so now, surely, when so much more is at stake. Tell me, then, at what hour was the king to meet the marquise in her room?"

      "At four, madame."

      "I thank you. You have done me a service, and I shall not forget it."

      "The king comes, madame," said Mademoiselle Nanon, again protruding her head.

      "Then you must go, captain. Pass through the other room, and so into the outer passage. And take this. It is Bossuet's statement of the Catholic faith. It has softened the hearts of others, and may yours. Now, adieu!"

      De Catinat passed out through another door, and as he did so he glanced back. The lady had her back to him, and her hand was raised to the mantel-piece. At the instant that he looked she moved her neck, and he could see what she was doing. She was pushing back the long hand of the clock.

      Chapter IX. Le roi s'amuse

      Captain de Catinat had hardly vanished through the one door before the other was thrown open by Mademoiselle Nanon, and the king entered the room. Madame de Maintenon rose with a pleasant smile and curtsied deeply, but there was no answering light upon her visitor's face, and he threw himself down upon the vacant arm-chair with a pouting lip and a frown upon his forehead.

      "Nay, now this is a very bad compliment," she cried, with the gaiety which she could assume whenever it was necessary to draw the king from his blacker humours. "My poor little dark room has already cast a shadow over you."

      "Nay; it is Father la Chaise and the Bishop of Meaux who have been after me all day like two hounds on a stag, with talk of my duty and my position and my sins, with judgment and hell-fire ever at the end of their exhortations."

      "And what would they have your Majesty do?"

      "Break the promise which I made when I came upon the throne, and which my grandfather made before me. They wish me to recall the Edict of Nantes, and drive the Huguenots from the kingdom."

      "Oh, but your Majesty must not trouble your mind about such matters."

      "You would not have me do it, madame?"

      "Not if it is to be a grief to your Majesty."

      "You have, perchance, some soft feeling for the religion of your youth?"

      "Nay, sire; I have nothing but hatred for heresy."

      "And yet you would not have them thrust out?"

      "Bethink you, sire, that the Almighty can Himself incline their hearts to better things if He is so minded, even as mine was inclined. May you not leave it in His hands?"

      "On my word," said Louis, brightening, "it is well put. I shall see if Father la Chaise can find an answer to that. It is hard to be threatened with eternal flames because one will not ruin one's kingdom. Eternal torment! I have seen the face of a man who had been in the Bastille, for fifteen years. It was like a dreadful book, with a scar or a wrinkle to mark every hour of that death in life. But Eternity!" He shuddered, and his eyes were filled with the horror of his thought. The higher motives had but little power over his soul, as those about him had long discovered, but he was ever ready to wince at the image of the terrors to come.

      "Why should you think of such things, sire?" said the lady, in her rich, soothing voice. "What have you to fear, you who have been the first son of the Church?"

      "You think that I am safe, then?"

      "Surely, sire."

      "But I have erred, and erred deeply. You have yourself said as much."

      "But that is all over, sire. Who is there who is without stain? You have turned away from temptation. Surely, then, you have earned your forgiveness."

      "I would that the queen were living once more. She would find me a better man."

      "I would that she were, sire."

      "And she should know that it was to you that she owed the change. Oh, Francoise, you are surely my guardian angel, who has taken bodily form! How can I thank you for what you have done for me?" He leaned forward and took her hand, but at the touch a sudden fire sprang into his eyes, and he would have passed his other arm round her had she not risen hurriedly to avoid the embrace.

      "Sire!" said she, with a rigid face and one finger upraised.

      "You are right, you are right, Francoise. Sit down, and I will control myself. Still at the same tapestry, then! My workers at the Gobelins must look to their laurels." He raised one border of the glossy roll, while she, having reseated herself, though not without a quick questioning glance at her companion, took the other end into her lap and continued her work.

      "Yes, sire. It is a hunting scene in your forests at Fontainebleau. A stag of ten tines, you see, and the hounds in full cry, and a gallant band of cavaliers and ladies. Has your Majesty ridden to-day?"

      "No. How is it, Francoise, that you have such a heart of ice?"

      "I would it were so, sire. Perhaps you have hawked, then?"

      "No. But surely no man's love has ever stirred you! And yet you have been a wife."

      "A nurse, sire, but never a wife. See the lady in the park! It is surely mademoiselle. I did not know that she had come up from Choisy."

      But the king was not to be distracted from his subject.

      "You did not love this Scarron, then?" he persisted. "He was old, I have heard, and as lame as some of his verses."

      "Do not speak lightly of him, sire. I was grateful to him; I honoured him; I liked him."

      "But you did not love him."

      "Why should you seek to read the secrets of a woman's heart?"

      "You did not love him, Francoise?"

      "At least I did my duty towards him."

      "Has that nun's heart never yet been touched by love then?"

      "Sire, do not question me."

      "Has it never – "

      "Spare me, sire, I beg of you!"

      "But I must ask, for my own peace hangs upon your answer."

      "Your words pain me to the soul."

      "Have you never, Francoise, felt in your heart some little flicker of the love which glows in mine?" He rose with his hands outstretched, a pleading monarch, but she, with half-turned bead, still shrank away from him.

      "Be assured of one thing, sire," said she, "that even if I loved you as no woman ever loved a man yet, I should rather spring from that window on to the stone terraces beneath than ever by word or sign confess as much to you."

      "And why, Francoise?"

      "Because, sire, it is my highest hope upon earth that I have been СКАЧАТЬ