Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 190 — page 22: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

2 “To make, madame, in the king's name, and without | prejudice to the respect which I entertain for your maj- esty an exact examination of all pre papers.”’ 4 What, sir! an examination of my papers—of mine! oy it is a most disgraceful act!”’ ** De to pardon nie, madame, but in this affair I am only an instrument which the king uses. Has not his majesty but just left the room; an invite you to expect this visit?” ** Search, then, sir; 1am, it seems, acriminal. Este- fana, zive up the keys of my tables and desks.” The chancellor went through the formality of search- ing Ff peo the rvom, although he well knew that it was not therc that the queen would hide the important 4etter which =he had that day written. But when hc had, at leasttwenty times, opened all the drawers, and shut them again, it became necessary, in spite of any hesitation he might experience, to end the business by searching the queen herself. ‘lhe chancel- lor advanced, therefore, towards her majesty, and in an embarrassed tone and manner, caid— ** And now I must make the principal search.’ ‘* And what is that?’? demanded the queen, who did not, or rather would not, understand him. ** His majesty is certain that a letter has been written by te during the day; and he knows that it has not re een forwarded to its address. found either in your table or your desk, and yet it must be somewhere,” ** Would you dare to lay your hand upon your queen?” | asked Anne of Austria, assuming all her haughtiness, and fixing on the chancellor eyes which had become almost threatening. ‘‘T am a faithful subject of the king, madame, and rverything that his majesty may order, I shall perform.” “Well, it is true!’’ exclaimed the qneen, ‘‘and the spies of the cardinal have served him faithfully. I have written a letter to-day, and that letter has not gone. It is here?’ and her majesty placed her beautiful hand /upon her bosom. “*Give me the letter, then, madame,”’ said the Chan- ecellor. ** I will only give it to the king, sir,”’ said the queen. “If his majesty had wished the letter to be handed jto him, madame, he would have demanded it himself. But, L repeat, it is to me that he gave the order to obtain it; and, if you did not give it up——"’ ‘* Well! what then?”’ ‘It is me that he has ordered to take it.”’ '‘*How? What can you mean to say?”’ “That my orders go very far, madame, and that I am authorized to seek for this suspected paper, even on the iperson of your majesty.” ‘* Horrible!’ exclaimed the queen. ‘* Be more Compliant, then, madame.*’ “This conduct is infamous in its violence. not aware of that, sir?’’ ‘* The king commands it! Therefore, madame, ex- <use e, ¥ x *T will not endure it. No! no! I will die rather!’ said the queen, whose imperial blood of Spain and .Austria, revolted at the outrage. The chancellor made a most reverential bow, but it was evident that he did not mean to recede one step in the accomplishment of his commission. Just as an ex- ecutioner’s man might have done in the torture-chamber, he approached Anne of Austria, from whose eyes large tears of rage were gushing. _ The queen was, as we have already said, singularly "beautiful. The commission, therefore, was a delicate one; but the king had come, from very jealousy of Buckingham, to be no longer jealous of any other person, At that moment the chancellor, Seguier, was no doubt looking out for the rope of the memorable bell; but, not finding it, he made up his mind, and moved his hand towards the place where the queen had admitted that the paper was concealed, Anne of Austria—blanched as though it had been by the approach of death—receded for asingle step. Then, supporting herself by leaning with her left hand ona table which stood behind her, with her right she drew the paper from her bosom, and presented it to the keeper of the seals, ** Here, sir, take the letter,’’ cried the queen, in a trembling, sobbing voice; “take it, and free me from your odious presence.”’ The chancellor, who was himself also trembling, from an emotion easy to conceive, took the letter, bowed to the vor mind, and withdrew. Scarcely Was the door closed upon him, before the queen fell nearly senseless into the arms of her women, The chancellor carried the letter to the king, without easing ya one syllable of its contents. His majesty took it with a trembling hand, and looked for the direction; but finding none, hc became very pale, and opened the per slowly. Then, seeing by the first words that it was addressed to the king of Spain, he read it very rapidly. It was a te attack against the cardinal. The queen invited her brother and the Emperor of Austria to ee as they were by the policy of Richelieu, whose constant aim it was to humble the house of Austria—to declare war against {France, and to lay down the dismissal of the cardinal as a condition of peace; but, of love, there was not one single word in all the letter. The king in great delight, apieed whether the car- dinal was still at the Louvre. The answer was, that his eminenze was in the official cabinet, awaiting his ma- Jesty’s commands. e king immediately hastened to him, “ Here duke,” said he, ‘“ you were right and I was Mier The whole intrigue is political, and love was Mot the subject of this letter. But, instead of love, e is a good deal about you.”’ ¢. cardinal took the letter, and read it with the es attention; and when he had reached the end, “ee read it a second time. ; | should be truly hap did he not himself | ; | probability I shall be unable This letter is not to | Are you | THE THREE GUARDSMEN. ’ said he, ‘you see how far my enemies go; they threaten you with two wars if you do ‘not dismiss me. Truly, sire, in your place I would _ yield to such pressing inducements; and, on my part, I to retire from affairs of state.” ing about, duke?” ‘Well, your majesty,’ ) ‘* What are you tal ‘‘T say, sire, that my health fails under these exces- sive struggles and eternal labors. I say, that in all to support the fatignes of the siege of la Rouchelle; and that it would be better for you to appoint either M. de Conde, or M. de Bas- sompierre, or some Valiant man whose profession is to conaads a war, instead of me, a churchman, continually turned aside from my vocation to engage in affairs for which I am entirely unfit. You will be more prosperous in the interior of the kingdom, sire; and 1 doubt not | that you will also be more triumphant abroad.” ‘“Diuke,”’ «aid the king, “I understand you. Depend upon it, tha: all those who are mentioned in this letter shall be punished as they deserve; even the queen her- | self.*’ | “What can your majesty mean? God forbid that | the queen should be harrassed upon my account! She has always believed me her enemy, sire, though your majesty can testify that I have ever warmly taken ier part, even against yourself. Oh! if she betrayed you majesty’s honor, it would be a very different thing, and I should be the first to say—no mercy, sire, no mercy onthe guilty? Happily, there is nothing of the kind here; and your majesty has just obtained a new proof of her innocence! “It is true, cardinal, and you were right, as_you al- ways are; but yet the queen has not the less deserved all my anger.”’ ‘‘It is you, sire, who have incurred hers, and when ee she seriously resents your conduct, I shall not blame | ‘her. Your majesty has treated her with great sever- ity!” %e It is thus that I will alwa yours, duke, however lofty t t | risk I may incur from being severe towards them.” | ‘The queen ismy enemy, but not yours, 8're; she is, on the contrary, a submissive, irreproachable, and de- yoted wife; permit me, then, to intercede for her with your majesty.” ‘‘Let her humble herself, then, and make the first advances,” | ‘On the contrary, sire, set her the example; you were ) wrong first, since you were suspicious of the queen.” ‘* Make the first advances?”* said the king, ‘* Never!"’ ‘Sire, I beseech you!” 's treat my enemies, and hey may be, and whatever ‘* Besides, how could I make advances ?”’ ‘ By doing something which you know will be agree- able to her.” ‘What?’ ‘‘Givea pall. You know how much the queen loves | dancing, and I will answer for it her anger will not re- | sist such an attention.” ‘Cardinal, you know that I do not like these worldly pleasures.” ‘‘ Her majesty will be only the more grateful to yon, as she knows your antipathy to this amusement. Be- sides, it will enable her to wear those beautiful diamond studs which you gave her on her birth-day, and with which she has not yet had any opportunity to adorn herself.”” ““ We shall see, cardinal; we shall see;’’ said the king, who, in his delight at finding the queen guilty of a fault about which he did not much care, and innocent ofa crime which he greatly dreaded, was quite ready to re- concile himself with her. “ We shall see; but, upon my honor, you are too indulgent.” ‘Sire,’ said the cardinal, ‘‘leave severity to min- sters: indulgence isa regal virtue: make use of it, and you will ny its benefits. Hearing the clock strike eleven, the cardinal bowed low, and be ission to reire; beseeching his majesty to make h ‘ace With the queen. Anne of Austria, who, after the seizure of her letter, expected some reproaches, was much surprised the next day to see the king make some attempts at ‘a reconcili- ation with her. e first emotion was repulsive: her ride as a woman, and her dignity as a queen, had both een so cruclly outraged, that she was unable to meet these first advances of the — But, vanquished by the advice of her ladies, she at last appeared to be dis- sed to wis pina The king took advantage of this first favorable disposition to tell her that he thought of | giving an immediate entertainment, | An entertainment was so rare a thing to the r queen, that at this declaration, as the curdinal had fore- _ seen, the last trace of her resentment vanished, if not _from-her heart, at any rate from her countenance. She asked on what day this entertainment was to be given; but the king answered that, on that point, he must con- | sult the cardingl: Not.a day ay pace in fact, on which the king did not ask the cardinal when it was to be; and, day by day. his eminence deferred it upon some pretext or other. Thus did ten days = away. On the eighth day after the scene we have described, the cardinal received a letter with the London post- mark, which contained only these few lines:— “T have got them, but cannot leave London for want of money. Send me five’hundred pistoles, and, four or five days after having received them, I shall be in Paris.”’ On the very day that the cardinal received this letter, the king asked the usual question. Richelieu counted on his fingers, and said to himself, in a low voice: . ‘* ‘She will reach Paris,’ she says, ‘four or five days after the receipt of this money.’ Four or five days will be required for the money te get there; four or five days for her to return; that makes tendays. Allow for con- trary winds and chances, and the weakness of a wo- man, and let us fix it at twelve days.” Wn Duke,” said the king, “have you calcu- ated?’ | “Yes, sire; this is the 20th of September; the eity | magistrates will give an entertainment on the 3d of October. That will suit exactly, for you will not have the appearance of humbling yourself to the queen.”’ Then the cardinal added: ‘* By the way, sire, do not forget to tell her majesty, the evening ogy the fete, that you wish to see how the | diamond studs become her,” CHAPTER XVII. THE BONANCIEUX HOUSEHOLD, Ir was the second time that the cardinal had recalled the king’s attention to these diamond studs. His ma- jesty had been struck by this circumstance, and sup- posed that the recommendation had reference to some- thing at hap rt mysterious, More than once had his majesty been annoyed that the cardinal's police. which, without having attained the perfection of that of modern times, was nevertheless. very good—was better informed than he himself was of what was taking place in his own royal household. He hoped, therefore, to glean some information from a conversation with the cneen, andthento return to the cardinal, and tell him some secret which his eminence: might, or might not, be acquainted with; but which, in either case, must raise him very much in the eyes of his minister. ' He wc yt accordingly to the queen, and, in his habitual way. a “Hsted herwith threats against those by whom shew surrounded. The eee bowed her head, and. alo’ “4, the torrent to pass by without reply, hoping tha: it would at last exhaust itself. But that was not his majesty’s design. He wished for a discussion, in which some lightor other might be struck out, being convinced that the cardinal had kept something back, aud was preting against him one of those terrible sur- | prises which his eminence so well knew how to con- _trive. He obtained his object by perseverance in ac- cusing. | ‘** But,’’ said Anne of / \stria, wearied of these yague: attacks, ‘‘ but, sire, you do not tell me all that you have in your heart. What have ldone? What crime have I committed? It is impossible that your majesty should | make all this disturbance about a letter written to my brother!”’ The king, being attacked in such a direct manner him- self, did not know what to anawer. He thought that then would be the time to issue the injunction which he had been charged to make on the _ ne EnnEnnsEnEEEEnEEEEEEne = ' evening before the entertainment. ‘*Madame,”’ said he, witu dignity, ‘* there will soon be a ball at the Hotel de Ville. I desire that, to honor our worthy magistrates, you will be present at it in full dress,.and, above all, adorned by those diamond studs _which I gave you on your birthday. There is my av swer.”’ And terrible that answer was. The queen believed that his majesty knew all her secret; and that the car- dinal had persuaded him to thatlong dissimulation of seven or eight days, which, moreover, accorded well with his own character. She became excessively pale; rested her beautiful hand, which looked then as though it was of wax, upon a bracket; and gazing at the king with terrified eyes, she answered not a ard. ‘*You hear me, madame,” said the king, oughly enjoyed this embarrassment, but wit ing its cause; ** you hear me?” ‘Yes, sire, I hear you,” stammered the queen. *You will be present at this ball?” a) Yes. ”? ** With your diamond studs?” ** Yes.”’ The paleness of the queen, if possible, increased; and the king perceived and enjoyed it. with that cold- blooded cruelty which was one of the worst parts of his character. ‘‘Tris settled then,” said he, ‘‘ and that is all I had to say to you.”’ ‘“But on what day will this ball take place?” asked the queen. The king instinctively reply to this question, w in an almost dying voice. ‘* Almost immediately, mmadame,*’ said he; “ but I do not exactly remember the precise day. I will ask the cardinal about it.”’ ‘It was the cardinal, then, who told you of this en- tertainment?’’ said the queen. ‘Yes, madame,” said the astonished king, ‘but what of that?” ‘* And was it he who told you to request me to appear in these studs?” ‘** That is to say, madame——”’ ** It was he, sire, it was he!” ‘Well, what does it signify, whether it was the car- dinal or me? Is there any crime in the request?”’ ‘** No, sire.”’ “Then you will go?” ** Yes, sire.”’ - ‘Very well,’ said the king, retiring; ‘‘very well; i shall depend upon it.”’ The queen curtsied, less from etiquette than because her knees bent under her. His majesty departed, perfectly deliehted. ‘‘T am lost,’’ muttered the queen; “‘ lost—for the car- dinal evidently knows all, and he it is who pushes for- ward the king, who, as yet, isin ignorance, but who will soon be made acquainted with the whole. I am lost! My God! my God!” and prayed, with ~ vr ha oh ba Se a oan he ween her palpitating arms. Her positiog was, in fact, terrible. uckingbain had retuamed to London. Madame de Chevreuse was at Tours. More closely watched than ever, the queen painfully felt that one of her ladies had betrayed her, without knowing which. La Porte could not quit the Louvre. She he not 4 soul inthe world in whom she could trust, who thor- hout guess- A perceiren that he ought not to ich the queen had put to him ——$—— Le / iO