Louise de la Valliere by Alexandre Dumas (e ink ebook reader .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Alexandre Dumas
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Miss Grafton felt her limbs almost giving way; and, as Raoul received the ring from the king’s hand, he, too, felt his strength and courage failing him. He addressed a few respectful words to the king, a passing compliment to Miss Stewart, and looked for Buckingham to bid him adieu. The king profited by this moment to disappear. Raoul found the duke engaged in endeavoring to encourage Miss Grafton.
“Tell him to remain, I implore you!” said Buckingham to Mary.
“No, I will tell him to go,” replied Miss Grafton, with returning animation; “I am not one of those women who have more pride than heart; if she whom he loves is in France, let him return thither and bless me for having advised him to go and seek his happiness there. If, on the contrary, she shall have ceased to love him, let him come back here again; I shall still love him, and his unhappiness will not have lessened him in my regard. In the arms of my house you will find that which Heaven has engraven on my heart—Habenti parum, egenti cuncta. ‘To the rich is accorded little, to the poor everything.’”
“I do not believe, Bragelonne, that you will find yonder the equivalent of what you leave behind you here.”
“I think, or at least hope,” said Raoul, with a gloomy air, “that she whom I love is worthy of my affection; but if it be true she is unworthy of me, as you have endeavored to make me believe, I will tear her image from my heart, duke, even if my heart breaks in the attempt.”
Mary Grafton gazed upon him with an expression of the most indefinable pity, and Raoul returned her look with a sweet, sorrowful smile, saying, “Mademoiselle, the diamond which the king has given me was destined for you,—give me leave to offer it for your acceptance: if I marry in France, you will send it me back; if I do not marry, keep it.” And he bowed and left her.
“What does he mean?” thought Buckingham, while Raoul pressed Mary’s icy hand with marks of the most reverential respect.
Mary understood the look that Buckingham fixed upon her.
“If it were a wedding-ring, I would not accept it,” she said.
“And yet you were willing to ask him to return to you.”
“Oh! duke,” cried the young girl in heart-broken accents, “a woman such as I am is never accepted as a consolation by a man like him.”
“You do not think he will return, then?”
“Never,” said Miss Grafton, in a choking voice.
“And I grieve to tell you, Mary, that he will find yonder his happiness destroyed, his mistress lost to him. His honor even has not escaped. What will be left him, then, Mary, equal to your affection? Answer, Mary, you who know yourself so well.”
Miss Grafton placed her white hand on Buckingham’s arm, and, while Raoul was hurrying away with headlong speed, she repeated in dying accents the line from Romeo and Juliet:
“I must be gone and live, or stay and die.”
As she finished the last word, Raoul disappeared. Miss Grafton returned to her own apartments, paler than death. Buckingham availed himself of the arrival of the courier, who had brought the letter to the king, to write to Madame and to the Comte de Guiche. The king had not been mistaken, for at two in the morning the tide was at full flood, and Raoul had embarked for France.
Chapter XXXIX. Saint-Aignan Follows Malicorne’s Advice.
The king most assiduously followed the progress which was made in La Valliere’s portrait; and did so with a care and attention arising as much from a desire that it should resemble her as from the wish that the painter should prolong the period of its completion as much as possible. It was amusing to observe him follow the artist’s brush, awaiting the completion of a particular plan, or the result of a combination of colors, and suggesting various modifications to the painter, which the latter consented to adopt with the most respectful docility. And again, when the artist, following Malicorne’s advice, was a little late in arriving, and when Saint-Aignan had been obliged to be absent for some time, it was interesting to observe, though no one witnessed them, those moments of silence full of deep expression, which united in one sigh two souls most disposed to understand each other, and who by no means objected to the quiet meditation they enjoyed together. The minutes flew rapidly by, as if on wings, and as the king drew closer to Louise and bent his burning gaze upon her, a noise was suddenly heard in the ante-room. It was the artist, who had just arrived; Saint-Aignan, too, had returned, full of apologies; and the king began to talk and La Valliere to answer him very hurriedly, their eyes revealing to Saint-Aignan that they had enjoyed a century of happiness during his absence. In a word, Malicorne, philosopher that he was, though he knew it not, had learned how to inspire the king with an appetite in the midst of plenty, and with desire in the assurance of possession. La Valliere’s fears of interruption had never been realized, and no one imagined she was absent from her apartment two or three hours every day; she pretended that her health was very uncertain; those who went to her room always knocked before entering, and Malicorne, the man of so many ingenious inventions, had constructed an acoustic piece of mechanism, by means of which La Valliere, when in Saint-Aignan’s apartment, was always forewarned of any visits which were paid to the room she usually inhabited. In this manner, therefore, without leaving her room, and having no confidante, she was able to return to her apartment, thus removing by her appearance, a little tardy perhaps, the suspicions of the most determined skeptics. Malicorne having asked Saint-Aignan the next morning what news he had to report, the latter was obliged to confess that the quarter of an hour’s liberty had made the king in most excellent humor. “We must double the dose,” replied Malicorne, “but by insensible degrees; wait until they seem to wish it.”
They were so desirous for it, however, that on the evening of the fourth day, at the moment when the painter was packing up his implements, during Saint-Aignan’s continued absence, Saint-Aignan on his return noticed upon La Valliere’s face a shade of disappointment and vexation, which she could not conceal. The king was less reserved, and exhibited his annoyance by a very significant shrug of the shoulders, at which La Valliere could not help blushing. “Very good!” thought Saint-Aignan to himself; “M. Malicorne will be delighted this evening;” as he, in fact, was, when it was reported to him.
“It is very evident,” he remarked to the comte, “that Mademoiselle de la Valliere hoped that you would be at least ten minutes later.”
“And the king that I should be half an hour later, dear Monsieur Malicorne.”
“You would show but very indifferent devotion to the king,” replied the latter, “if you were to refuse his majesty that half-hour’s satisfaction.”
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