From the Memoirs of a Minister of France
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Stanley Weyman >> From the Memoirs of a Minister of France
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"The list!" I said,
"I have no list! I have none!" he wailed.
"Then give it me out of your head. Curtin, how much?"
He glanced at the man I named, and shivered, and for a moment was
silent. But one of the grooms approaching with the stirrup-
leather, he found his voice. "Forty crowns," he muttered.
"Fonvelle?"
"The same."
I made him confess also the sums which he had received from
Lescaut and Philippon, and then the names of seven others who had
been in the habit of bribing him. Satisfied that he had so far
told the truth, I bade him put on his stocking and shoe. "And
now," I said to Boisrueil, when this was done, "take him to the
whipping-post there, and tie him up; and see that each man of the
eleven gives him a stripe for every crown with which he has
bribed him--and good ones, or I will have them tied up in his
place. Do you hear, you rascals?" I continued to the trembling
culprits. "Off, and do your duty, or I will have your backs
bare."
But the wretch, as cowardly as he had been cruel, flung himself
down and crawled, sobbing and crying, to my feet. I had no
mercy, however. "Take him away," I said, "It is such men as
these give kings a bad name. Take him away, and see you flay him
well."
He sprang up then, forgetting his gout, and made a frantic
attempt to escape. But in a moment he was overcome, hauled away,
and tied up; and though I did not wait to see the sentence
carried out, but entered the inn, the shrill screams he uttered
under the punishment reached me, even there, and satisfied me
that Fonvelle and his fellows were not; holding their hands.
It is a sad reflection, however, that for one such sinner brought
to justice ten, who commit the same crimes, go free, and
flourishing on iniquity, bring the King's service, and his
officers, into evil repute.
XI. THE CAT AND THE KING.
It was in the spring of the year 1609 that at the King's instance
I had a suite of apartments fitted up for him at the Arsenal,
that he might visit me, whenever it pleased him, without putting
my family to inconvenience; in another place will be found an
account of the six thousand crowns a year which he was so
obliging as to allow me for this purpose. He honoured me by
using these rooms, which consisted of a hall, a chamber, a
wardrobe, and a closet, two or three times in the course of that
year, availing himself of my attendants and cook; and the free
opportunities of consulting me on the Great Undertaking, which
this plan afforded, led me to hope that notwithstanding the envy
of my detractors, he would continue to adopt it. That he did not
do so, nor ever visited me after the close of that year, was due
not so much to the lamentable event, soon to be related, which
within a few months deprived France of her greatest sovereign, as
to a strange matter that attended his last stay with me. I have
since had cause to think that this did not receive at the time as
much attention as it deserved; and have even imagined that had I
groped a little deeper into the mystery I might have found a clue
to the future as well as the past, and averted one more, and the
last, danger from my beloved master. But Providence would not
have it so; a slight indisposition under which I was suffering at
the time rendered me less able, both in mind and body; the result
being that Henry, who was always averse to the publication of
these ominous episodes, and held that being known they bred the
like in mischievous minds, had his way, the case ending in no
more than the punishment of a careless rascal.
On the occasion of this last visit--the third, I think, that he
paid me--the King, who had been staying at Chantilly, came to me
from Lusarche, where he lay the intervening night. My coaches
went to meet him at the gates a little before noon, but he did
not immediately arrive, and being at leisure and having assured
myself that the dinner of twelve covers, which he had directed to
be ready, was in course of preparation, I went with my wife to
inspect his rooms and satisfy myself that everything was in
order.
They were in charge of La Trape, a man of address and
intelligence, whom I have had cause to mention more than once in
the course of these memoirs. He met me at the door and conducted
us through the rooms with an air of satisfaction; nor could I
find the slightest fault, until my wife, looking about her with a
woman's eye for minute things, paused by the bed in the chamber,
and directed my attention to something on the floor.
She stooped over it. "What is this?" she asked. "Has something
been--"
"Upset here?" I said, looking also. There was a little pool of
white liquid on the floor beside the bed.
La Trape uttered an exclamation of annoyance, and explained that
he had not seen it before; that it had not been there five
minutes earlier; and that he did not know how it came to be there
now.
"What is it?" I said, looking about for some pitcher that might;
have overflowed; but finding none. "Is it milk?"
"I don't know, your excellency," he answered. "But it shall be
removed at once."
"See that it is," I said. "Are the boughs in the fire-place
fresh?" For the weather was still warm and we had not lit a
fire.
"Yes, your excellency; quite fresh."
"Well, see to that, and remove it," I said, pointing to the mess.
"It looks ill."
And with that the matter passed from my mind; the more completely
as I heard at that moment the sound of the King's approach, and
went into the court-yard to receive him. He brought with him
Roquelaure, de Vic, Erard the engineer, and some others, but none
whom he did not know that I should be glad to receive. He dined
well, and after dinner amused himself with seeing the young men
ride at the ring, and even rode a course himself with his usual
skill; that being, if I remember rightly, the last occasion on
which I ever saw him take a lance. Before supper he walked for a
time in the hall, with Sillery, for whom he had sent; and after
supper, pronouncing himself tired, he dismissed all, and retired
with me to his chamber. Here we had some talk on a subject that
I greatly dreaded--I mean his infatuation for Madame de Conde;
but about eleven o'clock he yawned, and, after thanking me for a
reception which he said was quite to his mind, he bade me go to
bed.
I was half way to the door when he called me back. "Why, Grand
Master," he said, pointing to the little table by the head of the
bed on which his night drinks stood, "you might be going to drown
me. Do you expect me to drink all these in the night?"
"I think that there is only your posset, sire," I said, "and the
lemon-water which you generally drink."
"And two or three other things?"
"Perhaps they have given your majesty some of the Arbois wine
that you were good enough to--"
"Tut-tut!" he said, lifting the cover of one of the cups. "This
is not wine. It may be a milk-posset."
"Yes, sire; very likely," I said drowsily.
"But it is not!" he answered, when he had smelled it. "It is
plain milk! Come, my friend," he continued, looking drolly at
me, "have you turned leech, or I babe is arms that you put such
strong liquors before me? However, to show you that I have some
childish tastes left, and am not so depraved as you have been
trying to make me out for the last hour--I will drink your health
in it. It would serve you right if I made you pledge me in the
same liquor!"
The cup was at his lips when I sprang forward and, heedless of
ceremony, caught his arm. "Pardon, sire!" I cried, in sudden
agitation. "If that is milk, I gave no order that it should be
placed here; and I know nothing of its origin. I beg that you
will not drink it, until I have made some inquiry."
"They have all been tasted?" he asked, still holding the cup in
his hand with the lid raised, but looking at it gravely.
"They should have been!" I answered. "But La Trape, whom I made
answerable for that, is outside. I will go and question him. If
you will wait, sire, a moment--"
"No," Henry said. "Have him here."
I gave the order to the pages who were waiting outside, and in a
moment La Trape appeared, looking startled and uncomfortable.
Naturally, his first glance was given to the King, who had taken
his seat on the edge of the bed, but still held the cup in his
hand. After asking the King's permission, I said, "What drinks
did you place on the table, here, sirrah?"
He looked more uncomfortable at this, but he answered boldly
enough that he had served a posset, some lemon water, and some
milk.
"But orders were given only for the lemon-water and the posset,"
I said.
"True, your excellency," he answered. "But when I went to the
pantry hatch, to see the under-butler carry up the tray, I found
that the milk was on the tray; and I supposed that you had given
another order."
"Possibly Madame de Sully," the King said, looking at me, "gave
the order to add it?"
"She would not presume to do so, sire," I answered, sternly.
"Nor do I in the least understand the matter. But at one thing
we can easily arrive. You tasted all of these, man?"
La Trape said he had.
"You drank a quantity, a substantial quantity of each--according
to the orders given to you? I persisted.
"Yes, your excellency."
But I caught a guilty look in his eyes, and in a gust of rage I
cried out that he lied. "The truth!" I thundered, in a terrible
voice. "The truth, you villain; you did not taste all?"
"I did, your excellency; as God is above, I did!" he answered.
But he had grown pale, and he looked at the King in a terrified
way.
"You did?"
"Yes!"
Yet I did not believe him, and I was about to give him the lie
again, when the King intervened. "Quite so," he said to La Trape
with a smile. "You drank, my good fellow, of the posset and the
lemon water, and you tasted the milk, but you did not drink of
it. Is not that the whole truth?"
"Yes, sire," he whimpered, breaking down. "But I--I gave some to
a cat."
"And the cat is no worse?"
"No, sire."
"There, Grand Master," the King said, turning to me, "that is the
truth, I think. What do you say to it?"
"That the rest is simple," I answered, grimly. "He did not drink
it before; but he will drink it now, sire."
The King, sitting on the bed, laughed and looked at La Trape; as
if his good-nature almost led him to interpose. But after a
moment's hesitation he thought better of it, and handed me the
cup. "Very well," he said; "he is your man. Have your way with
him. After all, he should have drunk it."
"He shall drink it now, or be broken on the wheel!" I said. "Do
you hear, you?" I continued, turning to him in a white heat of
rage at the thought of his negligence, and the price it might
have cost me. "Take it, and beware that you do not drop or spill
it. For I swear that that shall not save you!"
He took the cup with a pale face, and hands that shook so much
that he needed both to support the vessel. He hesitated, too, so
long that, had I not possessed the best of reasons for believing
in his fidelity, I should have suspected him of more than
negligence. The shadow of his tall figure seemed to waver on the
tapestry behind him; and with a little imagination I might have
thought that the lights in the room had sunk. The soft
whispering of the pages outside could be heard, and a stifled
laugh; but inside there was not a sound. He carried the cup to
his lips; then he lowered it again.
I took a step forward.
He recoiled a pace, his face ghastly. "Patience, excellency," he
said, hoarsely. "I shall drink it. But I want to speak first."
"Speak!" the King answered.
"If there is death in it, I take God to witness that I know
nothing, and knew nothing! There is some witch's work here it is
not the first time that I have come across this devil's milk to-
day! But I take God to witness I know nothing! Now it is here I
will drink it, and--"
He did not finish the sentence, but drawing a deep breath raised
the cup to his lips. I saw the apple in his throat rise and fall
with the effort he made to swallow, but he drank so slowly that
it seemed to me that he would never drain the cap. Nor did he,
for when he had swallowed, as far as I could judge from the
tilting of the cup, about half of the milk, Henry rose suddenly
and, seizing it, took it from him with his own hand.
"That will do," the King said. "Do you feel ill?"
La Trape drew a trembling hand across his brow, on which the
sweat stood in beads; but instead of answering he remained
silent, gazing fixedly before him. We waited and watched, and at
length, when I should think three minutes had elapsed, he changed
his position for one of greater ease, and I saw his face relax.
The unnatural pallor faded, and the open lips closed. A minute
later he spoke. "I feel nothing, sire," he said.
The King looked at me drolly. "Then take five minutes more," he
said. "Go, and stare at Judith there, cutting off the head of
Holofernes"--for that was the story of the tapestry--"and come
when I call you."
La Trape went to the other end of the chamber. "Well," the King
said, inviting me by a sign to sit down beside him, "is it a
comedy or a tragedy, my friend? Or, tell me, what was it he
meant when he said that about the other milk?"
I explained, the matter seeming so trivial now that I came to
tell it--though it; had doubtless contributed much to La Trape's
fright--that I had to apologize.
"Still it is odd,"the King said. "These drinks were not here, at
that time, of course?"
"No, sire; they have been brought up within the hour."
"Well, your butler must explain it." And with that he raised his
voice and called La Trape back; who came, looking red and
sheepish.
"Not dead yet?" the King said.
"No, sire."
"Nor ill?"
"No, sire."
"Then begone. Or, stay!" Henry continued. "Throw the rest of
this stuff into the fire-place. It may be harmless, but I have
no mind to drink it by mistake."
La Trape emptied the cup among the green boughs that filled the
hearth, and hastened to withdraw. It seemed to be too late to
make further inquiries that night; so after listening to two or
three explanations which the King hazarded, but which had all too
fanciful an air in my eyes, I took my leave and retired.
Whether, however, the scene had raised too violent a commotion in
my mind, or I was already sickening for the illness I have
mentioned, I found it impossible to sleep; and spent the greater
part of the night in a fever of fears and forebodings. The
responsibility which the King's presence cast upon me lay so
heavily upon my waking mind that I could not lie; and long before
the King's usual hour of rising I was at his door inquiring how
he did. No one knew, for the page whose turn it was to sleep at
his feet had not come out; but while I stood questioning, the
King's voice was heard, bidding me enter. I went in, and found
him sitting up with a haggard face, which told me, before he
spoke, that he had slept little better than I had. The shutters
were thrown wide open, and the cold morning light poured into the
room with an effect rather sombre than bright; the huge figures
on the tapestry looming huger from a drab and melancholy
background, and the chamber presenting all those features of
disorder that in a sleeping-room lie hid at night, only to show
themselves in a more vivid shape in the morning.
The King sent his page out, and bade me sit by him. "I have had
a bad night," he said, with a shudder. "Grand Master, I doubt
that astrologer was right, and I shall never see Germany, nor
carry out my designs."
Seeing the state in which he was, I could think of nothing better
than to rally him, and even laugh at him. "You think so now,
sire," I said. "It is the cold hour. By and by, when you have
broken your fast, you will think differently."
"But, it may be, less correctly," he answered; and as he sat
looking before him with gloomy eyes, he heaved a deep sigh. "My
friend," he said, mournfully, "I want to live, and I am going to
die."
"Of what?" I asked, gaily.
"I do not know; but I dreamed last night that a house fell on me
in the Rue de la Ferronerie, and I cannot help thinking that I
shall die in that way."
"Very well," I said. "It is well to know that."
He asked me peevishly what I meant.
"Only," I explained, "that, in that case, as your Majesty need
never pass through that street, you have it in your hands to live
for ever."
"Perhaps it may not happen there--in that very street," he
answered.
"And perhaps it may not happen yet," I rejoined. And then, more
seriously, "Come, sire," I continued, "why this sudden weakness?
I have known you face death a hundred times."
"But not after such a dream as I had last night," he said, with a
grimace--yet I could see that he was already comforted. "I
thought that I was passing along that street in my coach, and on
a sudden, between St. Innocent's church and the notary's--there
is a notary's there?"
"Yes, sire," I said, somewhat surprised.
"I heard a great roar, and something struck me down, and I found
myself pinned to the ground, in darkness, with my mouth full of
dust, and an immense beam on my chest. I lay for a time in
agony, fighting for breath, and then my brain seemed to burst in
my head, and I awoke."
"I have had such a dream, sire," I said, drily.
"Last night?"
"No," I said, "not last night."
He saw what I meant, and laughed; and being by this time quite
himself, left that and passed to discussing the strange affair of
La Trape and the milk. "Have you found, as yet, who was good
enough to supply it?" he asked.
"No, sire," I answered. "But I will see La Trape, and as soon as
I have learned anything, your majesty shall know it."
"I suppose he is not far off now," he suggested. "Send for him.
Ten to one he will have made inquiries, and it will amuse us."
I went to the door and, opening it a trifle, bade the page who
waited send La Trape. He passed on the message to a crowd of
sleepy attendants, and quickly, but not before I had gone back to
the King's bedside, La Trape entered.
Having my eyes turned the other way, I did not at once remark
anything. But the King did; and his look of astonishment, no
less than the exclamation which accompanied it, arrested my
attention. "St. Gris, man!" he cried. "What is the matter?
Speak!"
La Trape, who had stopped just within the door, made an effort to
do so, but no sound passed his lips; while his pallor and the
fixed glare of his eyes filled me with the worst apprehensions.
It was impossible to look at him and not share his fright, and I
stepped forward and cried out to him to speak. "Answer the King,
man," I said. "What is it?"
He made an effort, and with a ghastly grimace, "The cat is dead!"
he said.
For a moment we were all silent. Then I looked at the King, and
he at me, with gloomy meaning in our eyes. He was the first to
speak. "The cat to whom you gave the milk?" he said.
"Yes, sire," La Trape answered, in a voice that seemed to come
from his heart.
"But still, courage!" the King cried. "Courage, man! A dose
that would kill a cat may not kill a man. Do you feel ill?"
"Oh, yes, sire," La Trape moaned.
"What do you feel?"
"I have a trembling in all my limbs, and ah--ah, my God, I am a
dead man! I have a burning here--a pain like hot coals in my
vitals!" And, leaning against the wall, the unfortunate man
clasped his arms round his body and bent himself up and down in a
paroxysm of suffering.
"A doctor! a doctor!" Henry cried, thrusting one leg out of bed.
"Send for Du Laurens!" Then, as I went to the door to do so, "Can
you be sick, man?" he asked. "Try!"
"No, no; it is impossible!"
"But try, try! when did this cat die?"
"It is outside," La Trape groaned. He could say no more.
I had opened the door by this time, and found the attendants,
whom the man's cries had alarmed, in a cluster round it.
Silencing them sternly, I bade one go for M. Du Laurens, the
King's physician, while another brought me the cat that was dead.
The page who had spent the night in the King's chamber, fetched
it. I told him to bring it in, and ordering the others to let
the doctor pass when he arrived, I closed the door upon their
curiosity, and went back to the King. He had left his bed and
was standing near La Trape, endeavouring to hearten him; now
telling him to tickle his throat with a feather, and now watching
his sufferings in silence, with a face of gloom and despondency
that sufficiently betrayed his reflections. At sight of the
page, however, carrying the dead cat, he turned briskly, and we
both examined the beast which, already rigid, with staring eyes
and uncovered teeth, was not a sight to cheer anyone, much less
the stricken man. La Trape, however, seemed to be scarcely aware
of its presence. He had sunk upon a chest which stood against
the wall, and, with his body strangely twisted, was muttering
prayers, while he rocked himself to and fro unceasingly.
"It's stiff," the King said in a low voice. "It has been dead
some hours."
"Since midnight," I muttered.
"Pardon, sire," the page, who was holding the cat, said; "I saw
it after midnight. It was alive then."
"You saw it!" I exclaimed. "How? Where?"
"Here, your excellency," the boy answered, quailing a little.
"What? In this room?"
"Yes, excellency. I heard a noise about--I think about two
o'clock--and his Majesty breathing very heavily, It was a noise
like a cat spitting. It frightened me, and I rose from my pallet
and went round the bed. I was just in time to see the cat jump
down."
"From the bed?"
"Yes, your excellency. From his Majesty's chest, I think."
"And you are sure that it was this cat?"
"Yes, sire; for as soon as it was on the floor it began to writhe
and roll and bite itself, with all its fur on end, like a mad
cat. Then it flew to the door and tried to get out, and again
began to spit furiously. I thought that it would awaken the
King, and I let it out."
"And then the King did awake?"
"He was just awaking, your excellency."
"Well, sire," I said, smiling, "this accounts, I think, for your
dream of the house that fell, and the beam that lay on your
chest."
It would have been difficult to say whether at this the King
looked more foolish or more relieved. Whichever the sentiment he
entertained, however, it was quickly cut short by a lamentable
cry that drove the blood from our cheeks. La Trape was in
another paroxysm. "Oh, the poor man!" Henry cried.
"I suppose that the cat came in unseen," I said; "with him last
night, and then stayed in the room?"
"Doubtless."
"And was seized with a paroxysm here?"
"Such as he has now!" Henry answered; for La Trape had fallen to
the floor. "Such as he has now!" he repeated, his eyes flaming,
his face pale. "Oh, my friend, this is too much. Those who do
these things are devils, not men. Where is Du Laurens? Where is
the doctor? He will perish before our eyes."
"Patience, sire," I said. "He will come."
"But in the meantime the man dies."
"No, no," I said, going to La Trape, and touching his hand.
"Yet, he is very cold." And turning, I sent the page to hasten
the doctor. Then I begged the King to allow me to have the man
conveyed into another room. "His sufferings distress you, sire,
and you do him no good," I said.
"No, he shall not go!" he answered. "Ventre Saint Gris! man, he
is dying for me! He is dying in my place. He shall die here."
Still ill satisfied, I was about to press him farther, when La
Trape raised his voice, and feebly asked for me. A page who had
taken the other's place was supporting his head, and two or three
of my gentlemen, who had come in unbidden, were looking on with
scared faces. I went to the poor fellow's side, and asked what I
could do for him.
"I am dying!" he muttered, turning up his eyes. "The doctor!
the doctor!"
I feared that he was passing, but I bade him have courage. "In a
moment he will be here," I said; while the King in distraction
sent messenger on messenger.
"He will come too late," the sinking man answered. "Excellency?"
"Yes, my good fellow," I said, stooping that I might hear him the
better.
"I took ten pistoles yesterday from a man to get him a scullion's
place; and there is none vacant."
"It is forgiven," I said, to soothe him.
"And your excellency's favourite hound, Diane," he gasped. "She
had three puppies, not two. I sold the other."
"Well, it is forgiven, my friend. It is forgiven. Be easy," I
said kindly.
"Ah, I have been a villain," he groaned. "I have lived loosely.
Only last night I kissed the butler's wench, and--"
"Be easy, be easy," I said. "Here is the doctor. He will save
you yet."
And I made way for M. Du Laurens, who, having saluted the King,
knelt down by the sick man, and felt his pulse; while we all
stood round, looking down on the two with grave faces. It seemed
to me that the man's eyes were growing dim, and I had little
hope. The King was the first to break the silence. "You have
hope?" he said. "You can save him?"
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