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THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mary Randall 
 
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FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
FOR THE SAKE OF THE 
 DUCHESSE 
 
 H page from tbe %itc of tbe IDtcomte Oe 
 Cbampionnet 
 
 BY 
 
 S. WALKEY 
 
 » 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
Copyright, 1899, 
 By Frederick A. Stokes Company 
 
 GIFT • 
 
.Ayv 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGB 
 
 I. A ROYAL TEMPTER I 
 
 II. MADAME LA DUCHESSE MAKES LOVE 9 
 
 III. THE MIDNIGHT RIDE TO PONTIGNY 23 
 
 IV. THE DUEL AT NIGHT 32 
 
 V. CHEVERNY 47 
 
 VI. MADEMOISELLE SHOWS HER TEETH 60 
 
 VII. MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 7^ 
 
 VIII. M. LE MARQUIS IS FOILED 85 
 
 IX. THE INCONSISTENCIES OF WOMAN 94 
 
 X. THE cardinal's LETTERS IO4 
 
 XI. THE COMING OF MADAME LA DUCHESSE 117 
 
 XII. MADEMOISELLE AUR^LIE AT BAY 1 29 
 
 XIII. THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 14° 
 
 XIV. SILVAIN 1 58 
 
 XV. THE REGENT THREATENS 162 
 
 XVI. THE MARQUIS MAKES A CONFESSION I70 
 
 XVII. TRAGEDY I^I 
 
 XVIII. DE CHAMPIONNET PLAYS THE MAN I9I 
 
 XIX. LOVE OR HONOUR 199 
 
 XX. THE DUCHESSE WINS 2IO 
 
 XXI. SAINTE ROXANE 2I7 
 
 XXII. FOR THE SAKE OF MADEMOISELLE 229 
 
 XXIII. LIFE AND LOVE 236 
 
 ivi854J.i9 
 
FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A ROYAL TEMPTER 
 
 " No ! " I cried. " There's my answer, Monsei- 
 gneur ! " 
 
 '' Then you refuse to obey me ? " 
 
 " Absolutely," I returned. '* I am not a mur- 
 derer ! " 
 
 And with this I lounged off towards an oriel, leav- 
 ing the Regent of France and Dubois to stare at one 
 another across the wine-stained, card-strewn table. 
 Snow was driving against the windows of the Lux- 
 embourg, and a red gush of light, pouring from the 
 great portico out upon the wide, glittering gardens, 
 created a scene of exquisite romance that held me 
 chained, until a shuffling of feet caused me to glance' 
 round on my companions, and I saw that Dubois was 
 kindling some fresh candles. I hated Dubois ; he 
 was coarse to the marrow, despicably sleek and low, 
 
2 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 and had a vile habit of audibly sucking his teeth in 
 a manner which made me itch to tickle his lungs 
 with the point of my rapier ; and although this little 
 wretch had lured me to the Luxembourg on a pre- 
 tence that M. Due d'Orleans desired the loan of my 
 brain and my sword for a dangerous State mission, I 
 began to suspect he intended to make me his cat's- 
 paw in a devilish plot of his own conception. 
 
 He had set the Regent to ask me deliberately to 
 kill a man as though I were naught but a common 
 stabber, a black rogue, or a red rascal — me, Audran 
 de Championnet, a Vicomte of France and a gentle- 
 man ! What if it were true that I had fought 
 twenty duels in three years: what if my name had 
 been bandied to and fro by enemies as that of a 
 gambler, an adventurer, and a rufBing rogue, ready 
 to sell his sword to the highest bidder? None of 
 these slurs upon my free fashion of living a gay life 
 in my own way gave the Regent or Dubois a right 
 to imagine that money could buy my honour ! 
 
 While I stayed raging in the oriel, Philippe d'Or- 
 leans called me by name, and I strolled back to the 
 table, caring no more for my illustrious companions 
 than if they had been fellow-drinkers at a tavern, and 
 fearing them not at all. 
 
 " Well, Monseigneur ? " I said, folding my arms, 
 and looking upon him with a burning eye. 
 
A ROYAL TEMPTER 3 
 
 *' You were hasty, Vicomte," he replied. " You 
 allowed me no time to explain my position." 
 
 " It seemed too plain. You requested me to kill 
 a man, and I declined, so the matter is at an end. 
 With your permission, Monseigneur, I will take my 
 leave and retire." 
 
 And I caught up my hat and cloak. 
 
 " I beg you to wait a little," he cried, slipping his 
 arm through mine. " You fared ill at cards, and I 
 fear those few louis won by Dubois were all you 
 possessed." 
 
 The blood surged to my face and neck. 
 
 " I should like to see you often at Court, Vicomte. 
 At one time yours was a familiar figure, and my 
 daughter, the Duchesse de Berri, always regarded 
 you with something more, I think, than ordinary 
 admiration. Are your estates gone ? " 
 
 " All, Monseigneur ! " 
 
 *' You were ever a sad gamester." 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 '' And a fool." 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 " And an extremely bold, accomplished, and 
 charming rascal." 
 
 I bowed again. 
 
 " You honour me, Monseigneur." 
 
 " Where have you been the last two years?" 
 
4 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Making the most of a gay life, Monseigneur.'* 
 
 " Which has now come to an end." 
 
 *' All things have their price," I reflected. 
 
 " And yet your sword is priceless." 
 
 It was Dubois. He was sipping some Moselle 
 and glancing at me with a sly leer, and whenever his 
 lips were free from the glass he sucked his teeth 
 with maddening persistence. 
 
 *' And yet your sword is priceless," he repeated. 
 " Vicomte, His Highness the Regent has learned 
 that the Chevalier de Cheverny holds the strings of 
 another intrigue fostered by Cardinal Alberoni — an 
 intrigue which should be crushed within a month. 
 You are the man to crush it." 
 
 " France is at stake," said the Regent, looking 
 very stout and princely. 
 
 '' And Monseigneur's head may be in danger." 
 
 " Yours also, Abbe." 
 
 Dubois made a horrible grimace, and scowled at 
 me when I laughed. 
 
 *' You say Alberoni is implicated? " I said. 
 
 ** Deeply. Come, de Championnet, here is a mis- 
 sion which will bring you riches, power, royal favour, 
 fame, honour " 
 
 I stopped him by a gesture. 
 
 '* A mission tainted by murder is scarcely an 
 honourable one, Monseigneur." 
 
A ROYAL TEMPTER 5 
 
 " A mission full of romance — of danger, and of 
 subtlety," continued the Regent ; " and if hearsay 
 goes for aught, there is no man in Europe with so 
 great a love towards these things ^^ Audran de 
 Championnet. This is M. lAbbe's little plot, Vi- 
 comte. He has discovered that the heir to de 
 Cheverny's estates is his nephew, Silvain, a man 
 who was banished from France ten years ago for 
 some extraordinary crime." 
 
 " It was committed while I was his brother lieu- 
 tenant in the Royal Guards, Monseigneur." 
 
 " Exactly. You very much resemble one another 
 in appearance, I believe ? " 
 
 " The likeness often allowed me to take his place 
 in the guard-room while he diced, drank, or played 
 cards, and sometimes I claimed the same favour at his 
 hands." 
 
 " So Dubois told me." 
 
 " But how does he know. 
 
 " M. I'Abbe knows everything," said the Regent. 
 
 '* Yes, everything," said Dubois. " M. le Vi- 
 comte, this man has come to Paris from England, 
 and I have him safe in the Bastille. To-night I 
 will give him the Regent's pardon, set him free, and 
 then, while he makes his way to the Chevalier 
 de Cheverny's chateau, you will spring on his 
 trail, track him to his first halting-place, force a 
 
6 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 quarrel with the rogue, and run him through the 
 heart ! " 
 
 '' A great thought of yours, M. I'Abbe ! " I 
 cried, ironically. 
 
 " Superb ! " he purred, scratching the table with 
 his nails. " When he is dead, you will take posses- 
 sion of his papers and rings, particularly a signet 
 given him by the Chevalier, and ride on to the 
 Chateau de Cheverny, where I dare say you will re- 
 ceive an enthusiastic welcome, especially as you 
 will, of course, possess the pardon, establishing your 
 right as heir to the whole domain, and if your dis- 
 guise is perfect they will never so much as dream 
 their guest is anyone but Silvain." 
 
 '' Excellently worked out ! " I said. 
 
 *' The plot is sublime," returned Dubois. " When 
 you have entirely won the confidence of the Chev- 
 alier, search for the letters relating to the intrigue, 
 and send them to Monseigneur the Regent. He 
 will then hold the conspirators in the hollow of his 
 hand, and Alberoni shall be the laughing-stock of 
 Europe. After your work is done, name your price, 
 M. le Vicomte, and I do not think you will find us 
 niggardly. Can you suggest any improvement on 
 my proposals?" 
 
 " They are perfect, M. I'Abbe." 
 
 " And you believe they will work? " 
 
A ROYAL TEMPTER 7 
 
 "Admirably, if you succeed in finding a man 
 with enough wit, craft, and baseness to carry 
 them through. Search for a rascal ; no one calling 
 himself a gentleman would touch so despicable a 
 
 plot ! " 
 
 The Regent started ; Dubois turned first white, 
 then purple, with rings of green around his eyes, 
 and I had a thought that the little wretch might 
 spit at me. He glanced up with a vicious flash 
 of his teeth, beating the table with skinny fingers, 
 and longing, I know, to feel them close upon my 
 throat. 
 
 " What if we command you to obey us, M. le 
 Vicomte?" he snarled, a fleck of froth quivering 
 upon his lips. 
 
 '' By my soul, I'd say no ! " I cried. " Nay, by 
 the God above me, I'd rot in the Bastille all my 
 days ; I'd die on the scaffold or be broken on the 
 wheel, before my hands should bear the red stain 
 of so foul a deed ! " 
 
 A great silence reigned in the chamber ; Dubois 
 watched the Regent, and the Regent watched Du- 
 bois until I tired of waiting, and swung away once 
 more to the oriel with debonair nonchalance, hum- 
 ming a snatch of a gay chanson. I heard mutter- 
 ings from behind, and a slight noise of pattering 
 feet, but I stood gazing out into the snowy night 
 
8 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 until the sounds dwindled to a long, intense stillness, 
 broken only by the merry crackling of the fire. 
 
 *' Ah, M. le Vicomte, you have come back to me 
 at last ! " 
 
 I spun round on my heel to find the Regent and 
 Dubois gone, and that I was alone with Madame la 
 Duchesse de Berri. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 MADAME LA DUCHESSE MAKES LOVE 
 
 Madame floated towards me with both her little 
 white hands outstretched — a charming vision in 
 cream and gold, and although the oriel, shrouded by- 
 silken tapestry, lay in semi-darkness, the leaping fire- 
 light played upon the dazzling beauty of her face, 
 and I thought I had never seen any woman half 
 so fascinating — so splendid to the eye — so superb 
 in the grace and magnificent hauteur of her car- 
 riage. 
 
 She slid the tips of her fingers into my hands, 
 and I laid my lips upon them — all my heart seeming 
 to flame with unquenchable fire. A subtle perfume 
 from her hair floated around me, and I had a thirst 
 to crush her in my arms, even though I died on the 
 scaffold for my insolence — all my old, reckless, 
 hopeless passion for Madame waked and waked 
 again — long-forgotten ambitions stirred my soul 
 afresh, and while she stayed there laughing upon 
 
 pie with soft, alluring eye^whqse lustre no diamonds 
 
 9 
 
lo FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 could surpass, whose beauty no sapphire could 
 equal, I dreamed dreams in which I soared high as 
 the lover and ultimately the husband — ay, even 
 the husband — of the daughter of the Regent of 
 France. 
 
 *' So you have come back to me," she murmured. 
 " Do you find me changed, Audran — less beautiful 
 — grown old ? " 
 
 " Madame, the rose is still in her first and loveli- 
 est bloom." 
 
 *' But the frost of widowhood has touched her." 
 
 " And left her more sublime." 
 
 " A widow at twenty," she reflected. " I seem to 
 be a hundred, at the very least. Perhaps my heart 
 was born old. How many summers have you lived, 
 Vicomte?" 
 
 " Thirty-five, Madame la Duchesse," I repHed. 
 " It is I who am the life-worn one." 
 
 " And the loveless ? " 
 
 Her eyes were challenging mine with a glance of 
 inimitable coquetry, and, finding no other answer 
 ready, I bowed. She glided away from me, nestling 
 back amid the silken tapestry until her face was 
 hidden. Presently she gave a little quick ripple of 
 laughter. 
 
 '* Were you never in love, Audran ? " 
 
 '' Once, Madame." 
 
MADAME LA DUCIIESSE MAKES LOVE ii 
 
 **With me? I am concealing my face for mod- 
 esty's sake." 
 
 '' With you, Madame la Duchesse ! It was hope- 
 less, and I left Paris when you married M. le Due de 
 Berri." 
 
 " I was forced to marry him," she returned. 
 " Women's hearts are never free, Vicomte, and 
 'tis seldom love mates with love. I hear you have 
 gambled away all your demesne." 
 
 " It is true." 
 
 " And your delightful chateau?" 
 
 " It is mine no longer, Madame. I am simply 
 Audran de Championnet, a poor adventurer, driven 
 to sell his wits or his sword for a few louis with 
 which to buy wine and bread." 
 
 " And yet you were once so gay." 
 
 " I am gay still, Madame la Duchesse." 
 
 '' Have you never a regret ? " 
 
 ** Regret is a foolish weakness that may be trod- 
 den upon," I replied, smiling. 
 
 " But not extinguished. Audran, there was a 
 night, long ago, when at Versailles you spoke to 
 me of love. Have you forgotten it ? " 
 
 ** Madame, my memory was always extraordinary. 
 You were kind to me, if I recollect aright, and gave 
 me hope." 
 
 " I adored you," she whispered, stretching out her 
 
12 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 arms and letting the shimmery tapestry drop away 
 from her dazzling shoulders. " You were my hero, 
 my king ! " 
 
 I leapt forward, fell on my knees, and kissed her 
 hands afresh with burning kisses of passionate 
 adoration. All my love was young again — it had 
 blossomed anew, and Madame la Duchesse was 
 mine, mine, mine ! I arose and flung wide my arms 
 to her. What cared I now for the grey amid my 
 hair or the face furrowed by perished hopes ; for the 
 stained and ragged coat upon my back, my empty 
 purse and gambled patrimony ? Madame was my 
 queen, and had given me back a heart for love ; 
 Madame was my joy, and she had brought me 
 sweetness ; and to live for her would be my glory, to 
 fight for her my pride ; and I swore beneath my 
 breath that the man who dared stand 'twixt my love 
 and me should taste my bright sword to the hilt ! 
 Ambition, too, had caught my soul, and I saw a 
 swift vision of myself as a great power in France, 
 second only to the Regent, for I would cause the 
 dismissal of Dubois and rid Philippe d'Orleans of a 
 pestilent rascal. And yet — and yet, if I staked my 
 peace and my fortune on this one mighty throw, 
 would my luck hold? Should I win through with 
 clean hands? Madame la Duchesse still retained 
 my fingers, although she had refrained from falling 
 
MADAME LA DUCHESSE MAKES LOVE 13 
 
 on my breast ; and when I looked down into the 
 witchery of her eyes, shining like deep, unfathom- 
 able pools on which bright moonlight glittered, I saw 
 that they beckoned me still further along the path 
 of love. 
 
 " Will you yield yourself to me ? " I murmured. 
 
 " If I only dared ! " came the subtle answer. 
 "Audran, while our first love blossomed it was 
 plucked and cast aside. May it not be so again ? " 
 
 "Never!" I cried. *'You were young then, 
 Madame, and I was reckless. Naught on earth shall 
 part us a second time." 
 
 " But will my father consent ? You are homeless, 
 M. le Vicomte, and I do not think the Regent 
 would look on you with greater favour than he 
 showed before, unless you could accomplish some 
 great mission which might gain you his friendship 
 and gratitude. Even the Devil loves good serv- 
 ants ! " 
 
 She laughed ever so softly, leaning against my 
 shoulder in a manner which brought one stray tress 
 of her scented hair to float across my cheek, and I 
 slipped my arm around her waist, holding her very 
 close to me. 
 
 " You hurt me ! " she whispered. *' You are a 
 rough lover, Audran ! If I promise you my love, 
 what will you dare for my sake ? " 
 
14 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 ''Anything in the world, Madame ! " I answered. 
 " I would almost sell my soul for you ! " 
 
 " Almost ? " she asked, taking my fingers and 
 raising them to her full, red lips. 
 
 "■ Nay, altogether ! " I said. " A man can do 
 without a soul in France in these days, Madame la 
 Duchesse." 
 
 '' I know a way by which, at one stroke, you may 
 claim the Regent's regard, and win riches and 
 honour," she mused, glancing at me with charming 
 sweetness. 
 
 " How ? " I asked, devouring her beauty. 
 
 ** By procuring some papers from the Chevalier de 
 Cheverny," she whispered, setting her lips close to 
 my ear ; and my heart seemed to stand still. So 
 Madame, too, was in the plot ! I saw it all, and 
 cursed a thousand times my lack of wit in failing to 
 peer through this veil of artful and masterly diplo- 
 macy. 
 
 The Regent and Dubois, finding me firm, had 
 conspired to assail my heart by the wiles of the 
 Duchesse de Berri ! She continued to lean against 
 my shoulder, and my growing coldness made me 
 shiver. The chamber was almost entirely in gloom, 
 for the candles kindled by Dubois had guttered, one 
 by one, in their rich, heavy sconces, and were slowly 
 burning out. 
 
MADAME LA DUCHESSE MAKES LOVE 15 
 
 The snow seemed to have ceased, for a bright 
 moonbeam crept through the glistening glass of the 
 great window, and lay like a silver ribbon about 
 our feet ; while another, striking higher, lighted 
 Madame's face, when she gently slid closer to me, 
 and lay at last upon my breast. I saw her eyes, 
 glorious as sapphires, claiming love from mine. I 
 heard the swift panting of her breath, the quick 
 beating of her heart, the impatient pattering of one 
 little foot on the ringing, resonant floor, and in an 
 instant my bitter resentment of her duplicity in 
 M. I'Abb^'s scheme had vanished, and I was bending 
 to drink my fill from the fountain of her lips, when 
 she struggled free, and, while gliding away, the 
 mockery of her silvery laugh floated back to my 
 ears like chiming bells, beckoning me onward 
 towards the gate of dishonour and shame. *' Quid 
 proderit homini, si totum mundum lucretur, si 
 animae suae detrimentum patiatur ? " This thought 
 momentarily stabbed at my heart, and I dare say my 
 face, robbed of all ripe colour, the gift of Spanish and 
 Italian suns, was grey and sweat-bedewed, — the face 
 of a man fast caught by black temptation ; yet, 
 though my will was strong enough to break the 
 chains, I trampled on that will, and followed Madame 
 to her retreat amid the tapestry. I drew her forth, 
 laughing low. 
 
i6 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " M. le Vicomte, you are rough again ! " she whis 
 pered. " Let me go ! You have no right to hold 
 my hands so tightly ! " 
 
 "No right?" I said, " no right? Are you not 
 mine, Duchesse ? " 
 
 " Not yet, Audran," she replied, crossing her feet, 
 and leaning against the wainscot with the moon- 
 beams playing round her. " There is only one way 
 by which I may be won. You must gain riches : I 
 am scarcely the woman to marry a pauper.'* 
 
 I bent my head in silence. 
 
 " And you must acquire power. How would 
 M. le Due de Championnet sound ? " 
 
 *' You madden me, Duchesse ! " 
 
 " With a wide domain, an exquisite chateau, 
 and apartments at Versailles and the Luxem- 
 bourg? " 
 
 " Madame, do not taunt me more." 
 
 " And Madame de Berri your wife ! " she mur- 
 mured, raising her face towards m.ine. '* Do you 
 hesitate longer to serve Monseigneur the Regent in 
 this matter regarding the Chevalier de Cheverny — a 
 traitor and enemy to France?" 
 
 I dropped her hands. When I dreamed of win- 
 ning Madame's love, I had not thought of this as 
 the only way to take her heart by storm. She had 
 given me hope while fulfilment hung aloof in 
 
MADAME LA DUCHESSE MAKES LOVE 17 
 
 mockery at a fool's romance, and now that hope 
 was gone. She had offered me herself : she had 
 offered me dishonour. Was it possible she could not 
 know the diabolical intention of Dubois with regard 
 to the Chevalier ? Did she know that by implicating 
 myself in his plot I was playing the parts of a thief 
 and a murderer ? 
 
 ** You are long in answering me, Audran," she 
 murmured, drawing a little jewelled watch from her 
 bosom and holding it up to catch the moonlight. 
 ^' It is now nearly ten o'clock ! When the Luxem- 
 bourg bell strikes I must leave you here alone. 
 Why do you hesitate ? I have asked you such a 
 little thing — it is nothing ! " 
 
 " Is it nothing to kill a man for no reason, Ma- 
 dame ? Is it a little thing to enter a man's chateau 
 by fraud ; to gain his confidence, perhaps even his 
 affection, and then rob him of letters which will 
 probably bring his grey hairs to the scaffold ? " 
 
 Madame la Duchesse, with characteristic volatil- 
 ity, changed from warm summer to a bitter hail- 
 storm. 
 
 *' Let him die there ! " she cried, stamping her 
 foot. " He is betraying France ! And who are 
 you, Vicomte, to speak like this? A gamester, a 
 scoundrel, an unscrupulous mercenary unworthy of 
 kissing the dust on my shoes. Do not touch me ; 
 
i8 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 I am the daughter of Phih'ppe d'Orleans, and you — 
 
 and you " 
 
 I was rude enough to laugh in her face. " I am 
 Audran de Championnet, Madame," I said, " and I 
 have no wish to take you in my arms again. You 
 have called me a scoundrel and a mercenary ; but I 
 say that you lie, Duchesse, and that I am still a 
 man of honour and a gentleman. Had Dubois taunt- 
 ed me as you have done, I would have sent my 
 blade between his ribs ; had your father the Regent 
 dared throw insults in my teeth, I would have made 
 him retract them, one by one, at the point of my 
 sword ; but you are a woman, and your sex is your 
 shield, although I confess I should glory in tossing 
 you down amid the snow, if I thought 'twould cool 
 your hot tongue ! " 
 
 ''Devil!" she cried. 
 
 "Temptress!" I answered, and she made a pre- 
 tence of spitting at me. 
 
 I laughed insolently, and, leaving the oriel, took 
 my hat, and swung my cloak around me. 
 
 " I bid you a long farewell, Duchesse I " I cried, 
 and moved towards the door. 
 
 "Come back, Audran ! " she commanded. 
 
 '' Nay," I replied. " A scoundrel and a mercenary 
 is no company for Madame la Duchesse de Berri." 
 
 " But I love you ! I love you ! " she cried, and 
 
MADAME LA DUCHESSE MAKES LOVE 19 
 
 came running down the chamber. The candles had 
 flickered and gone out, and the moonbeams warred 
 with the great fire's flame, which flung a bloody 
 glow upon the gleaming floor, carving grotesque 
 crosses here and there, and bathing Madame's form 
 in an aureole of beauty while she knelt before me, 
 the very incarnation of the Temptress. She clasped 
 my knees wath her soft white arms, laying her face 
 against my rough riding-boots, and swearing ever- 
 lasting loyalty and love ; and gazing down, I drank 
 her witchery until it ran through and through my 
 body, warm, like rich wine, and the blood in my 
 veins waxed hotter and hotter. 
 
 I was no saint, and Madame's was an allurement 
 scarce to be withstood by mortal man. My heart 
 leaped riotously. All my shreds of honour and hon- 
 ourable pride fled before my one desire as chaff before 
 the wind, and to gain Madame la Duchesse for my 
 wife I was ready to sell my soul a thousand times. 
 I was no longer the Audran de Championnet who 
 an hour ago had glared at Dubois as though he were 
 a thing unfit to live, but Audran de Championnet 
 the fallen, the bravo, the willing thief and murderer, 
 and a woman had loosed my passions until I cared 
 not the fling of a coin what evil my sword and my 
 sublety might work so long as she became mine 
 own. 'Tis ever thus ! A woman is a spur driving 
 
20 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 a man towards Heaven or Damnation, and by my 
 soul, that night at the Luxembourg, Madame start- 
 ed me most gaily down the latter road. Stooping, 
 I drew her up to me, and crushed her to my breast ; 
 and while her lips clung to mine the bell began 
 slowly to toll the hour. 
 
 '' Audran, you will be true?" she whispered, let- 
 ting her hand stray over my neck. *' Monseigneur 
 may depend on you to accomplish this mission?" 
 
 She flung back her head and gazed upon my face 
 with great, shining eyes. 
 
 ** I will do it," I answered, '' for your sake, Ma- 
 dame ! " 
 
 Next moment a little gold crucifix was pressed 
 against my burning lips. 
 
 " Swear that you will not fail me," she murmured. 
 
 ''If Madame gives me herself?" 
 
 *' I am yours now ! " she replied, nestling closer ; 
 '' and when you come back, Audran, you shall claim 
 me from Monseigneur as your wife ! " 
 
 " And you will marry me? " I asked. 
 
 " I promise," Madame la Duchesse whispered. 
 
 She held the crucifix again to my lips, and I took 
 the oath. 
 
 Immediately the words were spoken she rustled 
 away from me, the door opened, and Philippe d'Or- 
 leans entered. 
 
MADAME LA DUCHESSE MAKES LOVE 21 
 
 ''What, in darkness?" he exclaimed. ''Fie, 
 Madame ; your imprudence surpasses your mod- 
 esty." 
 
 " Modesty's a poor thing, and out of place nowa- 
 days ! " returned Madame la Duchesse. " M. le 
 Vicomte has been making love to me." 
 
 And she lied so charmingly that I laughed aloud. 
 
 "Indeed! This is serious!" exclaimed the Re- 
 gent, crossing the chamber to stand within the 
 circle of warm firelight. 
 
 " It was exquisite while it lasted, Monseigneur," 
 Madame's voice rippled on. " What a pity Audran 
 is so poor?" 
 
 " Why, Duchesse ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Because if he were rich I might marry him," 
 she answered, sliding backward to the door, and 
 tossing a kiss at me with shimmering fingers. 
 " Farewell, mon pere ; good-night, mon preux chev- 
 alier. You will not forget ?" 
 
 She vanished, and I listened to the li^t tripping 
 of her dainty feet along the corridors until the 
 sound died away into silence. Then, for the third 
 time, I lifted my hat and cloak. 
 
 " Monseigneur, I am ready." 
 
 " For what, Vicomte ? " 
 
 " To play the devil with Silvain de Cheverny and 
 the Chevalier's intrigue !" I replied. 
 
22 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 ** I anticipated this," he said, and smiling with fas- 
 cinating geniality, M. le Due commenced to play 
 with his rings in deep reflection. 
 
 " Dubois has already left the Luxembourg for the 
 Bastille with de Cheverny's pardon," he continued, 
 after a long pause. " I have directed the guards to 
 accompany Monsieur Silvain to the three cross- 
 roads, where a sign-post points to Pontigny, his first 
 likely halting-place if he makes towards the Cheva- 
 lier's chateau." 
 
 " I know it well, Monseigneur," I replied. 
 
 " Then you had better choose a horse from my 
 stables, and set forth without delay. When all is 
 over, you shall claim your own reward. Au revoir. 
 Monsieur, and luck smile on you ! " 
 
 I bowed, and retired from his presence. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT RIDE TO PONTIGNY 
 
 At the end of the great corridor lounged a man 
 very elegantly dressed in white satin, and as I passed 
 him I saw that he was M. le Comte d'Anquital, a 
 brilliant rascal with whom I once had the pleasure 
 of fighting a duel ; and, lightly touching my shoulder 
 ere I descended the stair, he assumed an insolent 
 air of mockery, and presumed to twit me on my very 
 long interview with Madame la Duchesse de Berri. 
 
 " What brought you here, Vicomte ? " he cried. 
 
 '' My legs, Monsieur le Comte," I replied. " I 
 was too poor to borrow a horse." 
 
 " Perhaps Madame de Berri will buy you one," 
 laughed he. 
 
 " Why should she ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Well," he returned, " when Madame honours a 
 gentleman by allowing him to remain in her com- 
 pany for so long a time as you have spent with her 
 in the card-chamber, she is generally prodigal with 
 her gifts, as she is extremely catholic in her loves." 
 
 23 
 
24 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 '* M. le Comte ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 ** You to-day — another to-morrow," he said, with 
 a laugh and a sneer. 
 
 I did not speak : I looked at him — then, raising 
 my hand, I struck him across the mouth with such 
 excellent ill-will that he went sprawling along the 
 corridor, while I pursued my Avay to the stables, 
 wrapping my cloak around me as I hastened 
 on. 
 
 The grooms received me with deference — they 
 had heard of de Championnet, and there was a look 
 in my eyes that night which inspired fear. I chose 
 a powerful racy Limousin of extraordinary beauty, 
 long in the neck, with a sloping shoulder, a superb 
 chest, swelling scarlet nostrils, and a flaming eye 
 that might have belonged to an angry lion ; and 
 when they led her out upon the snow I immediately 
 mounted, and a moment later was clear of the Lux- 
 embourg. In less than twenty minutes I turned in 
 my saddle to watch the lights of Paris growing 
 fainter and dimmer amid the wintry haze which hung 
 as a cloud around the city, and then I let the mare 
 race merrily down the white, glittering road. 
 
 The storm had ceased, but a bitter wind, sharp- 
 ened by frost, cut my face and lips ; not that I cared 
 a curse, for the memory of Madame la Duchesse 
 kept my heart warm and my body a-tingling. As 
 
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE TO PONTIGNY 25 
 
 for M. le Comtc d'Anquital, I looked forward to 
 winning satisfaction from him at the point of my 
 rapier when my mission was accomplished. Sang- 
 Dieu I how the thought of that time sent the hot 
 blood rioting in my veins ! To call her mine, to 
 claim her as my wife in the face of all France, what 
 a day for the Vicomte de Championnet ! But if 
 d'Anquital's sneer held truth — ''You to-day — 
 another to-morrow ! " The words burnt into my 
 brain and maddened me to fury. '' If Madame is 
 fooling me, I will kill her ! " I cried aloud, and in 
 my passion I touched the mare sharply with my 
 spurs, causing her to scream in wild rage and flash 
 onward, bathed in sweat, like a phantom of the lone, 
 starry night. Above us glowed a great mellow 
 moon, Sirius flared white and pure in the deep pur- 
 ple heavens, andCapella was a diamond set in iolite. 
 Lyra gleamed beyond the Milky Way, and the red 
 planet Mars, hanging low, shone like a ruby mid a 
 myriad lesser lanthorns of the silent dome. Beneath 
 the mare's quick hoofs crackled the crisp, frozen 
 snow, and the laden bushes which fringed the road 
 glittered with a filigree of gold and silver when the 
 orange moon, mounting higher, bathed the chaste 
 country in a wondrous radiance — indescribably soft 
 and delightful. 
 
 It was a night perfumed by the breath of romance, 
 
26 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 and I bethought me, for the first time, of the inim- 
 itable peril of my mission. I was riding to Pontigny 
 with a loose rein and a careless heart that I might 
 send Silvain de Cheverny's soul to Purgatory. But 
 if he proved the better man, and spilled my life 
 upon the snow, what would Madame la Duchesse 
 do? ''You to-day — another to-morrow." Peste ! 
 how the taunt still stung me ! Perhaps M. le Comte 
 was right ; she would forget that such a man as 
 Audran de Championnet had chosen the path of 
 shame for her sake, and seek solace in listening to 
 some other fool's wooing. I trampled on the dread, 
 and turned my thoughts to the Chateau de Cheverny, 
 and to the old Chevalier. I had heard of him as the 
 most extraordinary gentleman in France — subtle, 
 unscrupulous, scheming — a ;-ecluse who had once 
 ruffled around Paris as a beau and a libertine, and it 
 struck me that my dealings with him were likely to 
 be a thousand times more dangerous than my pro- 
 posed quarrel and duel with his nephew Silvain. 
 
 And yet peril had ever a charm for me, and even 
 though I knew that I rode to my death, I was never 
 the rogue to swing my horse round and save my 
 neck by prudence. Nay, by my soul, no man in 
 Europe, friend or foe, dared call me faithless or a 
 coward ; and though Death might wait for meat the 
 Chateau de Cheverny, I was none the less deter- 
 
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE TO PONTIGNY 27 
 
 mined to prove my loyalty to Madame la Duchesse 
 de Berri, even at the price of my honour. 
 
 The wind had risen when I reached the sign-post, 
 and the frost was so intense that I made my way to 
 a cottage some little distance down the Pontigny 
 road. I beat on the door with my riding-whip, and 
 a woman appeared, very stout and scarlet-faced. 
 
 " Is this an inn ? " I asked. 
 
 ** Nay, Monsieur ; but there is one at Pontigny, 
 four leagues hence." 
 
 '' Will you allow me to rest here awhile ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Monsieur. I will put your horse in 
 the shed." 
 
 " A million thanks," I replied, " but I will stable 
 her myself." 
 
 " As Monsieur pleases," she said, and guided me 
 to the shed, where another horse was stalled — a 
 raw-boned, ugly beast, which might have been any 
 age from twenty to thirty. 
 
 " This is our Noe ! " announced the woman, ex- 
 hibiting much pride. '' He once belonged to M. le 
 Marquis de Saint Arnaud, whose chateau lies near. 
 My husband is in the service of M. le Marquis, and 
 Noe draws wood. There, Monsieur, your beautiful 
 animal is now amid great comfort. Come into the 
 house, Monsieur." 
 
 I followed her, and lounged in a wooden chair by 
 
28 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 the fire, listening intently for the sound of M. le 
 Due d'Orleans's guards. At last I heard voices, and 
 gazing from the window, my eyes fell upon several 
 soldiers in glittering cuirasses, standing dismounted 
 by the sign-post. Presently they sprang on their 
 horses and galloped away towards Paris, leaving a 
 dark figure alone at the crossroads. It was, without 
 doubt, Silvain de Cheverny. He raised a hand and 
 shook it after the retreating guards, then came 
 striding past the cottage, wrapped in a long cloak 
 which trailed about his heels. 
 
 '' So-ho, Monsieur Silvain ! " I muttered. " You 
 travel late, mon ami, and I will give you excellent 
 time to reach Pontigny before presenting myself to 
 you 1 " 
 
 While I mused he vanished, and the woman 
 brought me wine. Lolling in my seat, I played 
 with my glass, and pictured de Cheverny tramping 
 alone down the white, crusted road, — de Cheverny, 
 the man I had come out to kill. He had once been 
 my comrade, and I remember, as though 'twere 
 yesterday, how Monsieur Silvain, while a lieutenant 
 in the guards, became enamoured of a certain Made- 
 moiselle Crespigny, the pretty daughter of some 
 strolling player ; but Mademoiselle preferred an- 
 other to Silvain, who, finding the lovers sauntering 
 together one night near the Cathedral of Notre- 
 
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE TO PONTIGNY 29 
 
 Dame as he swung home full of wine from a tavern, 
 pulled out his rapier, and, in a fit of mad passion, 
 ran them both through the heart. De Cheverny 
 instantly fled, or he would have graced the scaffold, 
 for the girl's lover had powerful friends ; and it 
 passed my comprehension how Dubois could have 
 learned that Silvain was again in Paris, and planned 
 so masterly a plot against the ChevaHer through his 
 nephew's death. And M. I'Abbe had chosen me as 
 his instrument. I pondered long. Silvain might 
 have been a very black scoundrel, but there was no 
 reason why repentance should not have laid a chasten- 
 ing hand upon him. A man may be a villain to- 
 day and a saint ten years hence. Yet, knowing that 
 de Cheverny led a desperately low life during his 
 three years with the Royal Guards, I had a strong 
 thought that the leper was still unclean. And so 
 it proved. For as I sipped my wine a horse 
 neighed, and fearing my mare was in mischief, I 
 rose, opened the door, and quietly made my way 
 round to the shed. An oath dropped hot from my 
 lips, and out flashed my rapier — for, by my heart's 
 blood, there was Monsieur Silvain leading forth M. 
 le Due d'Orleans's chestnut mare ! 
 
 " Hola, rascal ! " I roared. *' Stop ! stop ! " And 
 then I cursed him with a million curses as he laughed 
 insolently, flung his leg 'cross the saddle, and, set- 
 
so FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 tling his feet in the stirrups, shook the reins, and 
 was gone down the road 'fore ever I could reach 
 him witli my savage, lunging blade. 
 
 '' Tricked, by St. Aignan ! " I snarled, stamping 
 my heel till the spur rang on the frozen snow. " So 
 Monsieur Silvain is a robber as well as a murderer! 
 We are a pair well matched ! " 
 
 The hoofs of the mare sounded light and clear as 
 the far-away tinkling of silver bells, and dragging 
 old Noe from his warm shed I mounted him, and, 
 with only my sword and a halter to guide his head, 
 I spurred the poor brute to a roystering, staggering 
 gallop. And, upon my soul, he possessed an ex- 
 cellent spirit, for in less than an hour the hostelry 
 lights of the little village of Pontigny glowed rosily 
 out against the bitter night ; and drawing Noe to a 
 halt, I bawled to a groom who lounged in the porch. 
 He came towards me, staring. 
 
 " Is anyone within ? " I asked, jerking my thumb 
 towards the hostelry window. 
 
 " A gentleman. Monsieur ! " 
 
 '' When did he arrive ? " I demanded. 
 
 " Twenty minutes ago, Monsieur.** 
 
 " Riding a chestnut mare ? '* 
 
 The man gave a brisk affirmative, and I rubbed 
 my hands with intense satisfaction. Silvain was 
 mine ! I had him like a wolf in a trap : and after 
 
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE TO PONTIGNY 31 
 
 giving the groom instructions to send back Noe to 
 his owner with a gold louis or two, which I could 
 ill-spare from my scanty pocket, I kicked open the 
 door of the hostelry and swaggered in. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE DUEL AT NIGHT 
 
 SiLVAIN DE Cheverny was alone in the wain- 
 scoted chamber. 
 
 '' Good-evening to you, Monsieur ! " I cried, 
 flinging down my hat and cloak and stamping the 
 snow from my heavy boots. " Have you a memory 
 of Audran de Championnet? " 
 
 De Cheverny swung round to face me, and I was 
 astonished at the extraordinary transformation of 
 his personality. His under-lip drooped ; his dull, 
 wine-reddened eyes burned like rubies under his 
 shaggy brows ; and his cheeks were purple and 
 scarlet. It was the countenance of a debauchee and 
 a voluptuary ; and gazing at his full-blooded, loose- 
 limbed form, I caught myself wondering how, if I 
 killed the rogue, it would be possible sufficiently to 
 disguise my own lean body and sun-tanned visage 
 into a likeness of Monsieur Silvain. 
 
 " Audran de Championnet?" he muttered, in a 
 
 low, hoarse whisper. " My great God ! " 
 32 
 
THE DUEL AT NIGHT 33 
 
 '' You seem startled to see me, Monsieur," I re- 
 plied. " Havel interrupted your refection? Come, 
 allow me to join you in a flask of Rousillon. Where 
 are the maids ? '* 
 
 ''There is one without! " he growled, "but she 
 will not wait on me. I was about to give her a kiss 
 in courtesy, when she ran off, and has not re- 
 appeared. Modesty's rampant here ! " 
 
 " Ha ! A kiss in courtesy ! " I reflected. " You 
 were ever a gay dog, de Cheverny ! Do you re- 
 member that night at the ' Fleur-de-Lys ' ? " 
 His eyes closed in ecstasy. 
 
 " And your little esclandre with Mademoiselle la 
 Madeleine, as Rochfort christened her ? " 
 The beast wriggled in delight. 
 "And the orgie at the Chateau de Sainte Ma- 
 thilde?" 
 
 He licked his lips and sighed. 
 " You have a good memory, Vicomte ! " 
 "An excellent one. Monsieur. It is sometimes a 
 pity to possess a good memory. So many things in 
 life are better forgotten ! " 
 
 I spoke calmly, and began to pull off my boots, 
 but letting the tail of my eye trail over Silvain's 
 face, I noted that his own scarlet-rimmed orbs were 
 regarding me with such an expression of hate and 
 distrust, that I judged it well to watch his move- 
 3 
 
34 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 ments. Crossing the chamber, I opened the door 
 and called for supper and some Rousillon. Pres- 
 ently the maid appeared, and I was soon settling 
 down to an extremely choice repast, when she 
 screamed, and there was Monsieur de Cheverny, 
 with an arm about her waist, struggling hard for a 
 kiss. Here was my chance for a quarrel with him. 
 
 " Ah-ha, I have you this time," he cried, dragging 
 her to his knee, and striving to pull her face down 
 to his swollen, wine-sodden lips. '* Look, de Cham- 
 pionnet, I've mastered her ! Watch me make love 
 to her ! Take this kiss, sweetheart, and this, and 
 this!" 
 
 " Let the girl go ! " I cried, glaring angrily at the 
 rascal. 
 
 " Nay ! " he answered, " not by your command, 
 M. le Vicomte ! " and Monsieur Silvain pressed his 
 lips again to the maid's cheek. 
 
 '' Then I'll make you ! " I growled, rising from 
 my seat and getting my rapier bare. But he held 
 the girl fast, and though she wept and struck hirn 
 with her hands, he would have won another kiss 
 had I not given him the pommel of my sword with 
 all my strength, and sliding from his chair, Silvain 
 crashed to the floor, blood gushing from his mouth, 
 while the maid rushed out of the chamber. The 
 host came running in, and I bade him begone. At 
 
THE DUEL AT NIGHT 35 
 
 first he demurred, and I was forced to make towards 
 him with my rapier before he vanished and left me 
 alone to work my will upon Silvain de Cheverny. 
 For a little while I sat watching him, and drank my 
 Rousillon very slowly, keeping my eyes on Monsieur, 
 and wondering when his sw^oon would pass. I had 
 caught his every gesture while we talked together. 
 I now had leisure to observe his sloven dress, his 
 rough, ill-shaven chin, and I thought, after all, it 
 might not be so difficult to play his part at the 
 Chateau de Cheverny — to cheat the Chevalier, and 
 to worm the letters incriminating Cardinal Alberoni 
 and other intriguers from his possession. It would 
 have been easy to kill Silvain while he lay insensible ; 
 but although I allowed my rapier-point to creep 
 nearer and nearer to his coarse throat, my heart re- 
 fused to let me make the thrust. No, he should 
 fight me in a duel to the death ! Yet there was a 
 wondrous fascination in watching the bright ribbon 
 of steel flash to and fro, and quiver above Monsieur's 
 broad, heaving breast. At last he sighed, his eyes 
 unclosed, and after I had given him wine, he arose, 
 scowling, and immediately tried to get free his 
 sword. 
 
 " Wait a little, mon ami ! " I said. '' Allow your 
 strength to return. Then I will offer you satis- 
 faction ! '• 
 
36 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 He had the grace to make an elaborate bow, 
 and I pushed the flask of Rousillon close to his 
 elbow. 
 
 '' Drink, Monsieur," I said, proceeding with my 
 supper, and ma foi ! in ten minutes the wine was 
 gone, and Silvain, sinking back in his chair, slept. 
 
 Leaning my arms on the table, I looked at him 
 and laughed — he was so strange, so grotesque a pic- 
 ture. Drunken stupor lay heavy on his face — his 
 perruque was awry, and his Malines ruffles were as 
 filthy as sin. He had spilt the Rousillon over his 
 soiled coat of white satin — a relic, I doubt not, of 
 better days, — and the blood from his mouth had 
 dried upon his chin and splashed his shirt crimson. 
 An hour passed, the hostelry was silent, and some 
 neighbouring clock tolled solemnly. One ! Two ! 
 
 I started. How the time had flown ! Four hours 
 ago Madame laDuchesse was lying in my arms, and 
 now here was I w^aiting for Silvain de Cheverny to 
 awake that I might take his life. After a while I 
 shook him, and he sufficiently recovered his wits to 
 be extremely quarrelsome. 
 
 " You insulted me, Vicomte ! " he began. " I 
 demand satisfaction." 
 
 "You shall have it, Monsieur." I returned. "Do 
 you prefer swords? " 
 He bowed. 
 
THE DUEL AT NIGHT 37 
 
 " Yes, swords, and I hope to run you through the 
 heart ! " 
 
 I smiled contemptuously, and Silvain flew into a 
 passion. 
 
 " I'll spill your blood or die ! " he snarled, shaking 
 his fist in my face. " Come outside, Vicomte, and I 
 promise you the snow shall be rosy where your body 
 falls ! " 
 
 " What if my luck holds and yours proves false. 
 Monsieur?" I said, leaning against the low mantel 
 and gazing at him with a flash of laughter in my 
 eyes. 
 
 "Ah! " he breathed, and then again, very softly, 
 so that it could scarce be heard — '' Ah ! " 
 
 His face narrowed, his red orbs gathered a low, 
 cunning gleam of the most intense malice, and sud- 
 denly he drew a dice-box from his pocket. 
 
 *' M. le Vicomte de Championnet ! " he mur- 
 mured, smiling horribly, " why should we go out 
 upon the snow to fight this duel ? ** 
 
 " I shall be happy, Monsieur, to kill you here," I 
 said. 
 
 " Let us dice for our lives ! " he urged. " Three 
 throws each, and he who throws highest shall take 
 his sword and send it through the loser ! " 
 
 " A cold-blooded suggestion ! " I reflected. 
 
 " Are you a coward ? " he sneered. 
 
38 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Are you, Monsieur ? " I said, staring at him till 
 his gaze fell. 
 
 " Come, we are wasting time," he replied. *' The 
 thought of Death seems to frighten you, M. le Vi- 
 comte." 
 
 '* Not at all, but I am always on my guard against 
 treachery," I flashed out. " Well, sit you down, 
 Monsieur de Cheverny, and stake your luck 'gainst 
 mine ! " 
 
 " You agree ? " he cried, with evident delight. 
 
 I bent my head, and he pushed the box across the 
 table. 
 
 '' Nay, you shall throw first ! " I said. 
 
 " As you please, Vicomte ! " he replied, rattling 
 the dice, and tossing them high. " There, by Saint 
 Gris, I've thrown ten ! " 
 
 '' You are certainly in luck," I muttered, taking 
 the box from his quivering hand. 
 
 " Be quick, mon ami, be quick ! " he cried, the 
 sweat running down his face. 
 
 " Only fools hurry ! " I remarked ; " and no man 
 on earth ever hastened me. Monsieur de Cheverny." 
 
 " Throw ! throw ! " he gasped. 
 
 I obeyed, and Silvain gave a little soft chuckle of 
 unutterable rapture. 
 
 " Seven ! " he cooed, sweeping the dice again into 
 the box and flinging them out with a laugh. 
 
THE DUEL AT NIGHT 39 
 
 " Ten for the second time," I said ; " that seems 
 strange." 
 
 '' Nay, I am winning fairly, Vicomte ! " he said, 
 flushing scarlet, and drawing back his lips. " Do 
 you dare call me cheat ? " 
 
 " Wait ! " I replied, and threw up the dice. They 
 came down with a tinkling clatter, and, rolling over, 
 gave me no more than six. De Cheverny shouted 
 aloud. 
 
 '' You appear extremely anxious to feel your 
 blade running into my body, Monsieur," I said, 
 " but if I recollect aright, it was ever ready to kill 
 the defenceless. Have you forgotten the night when 
 you met Mademoiselle Crespigny and the Comte de 
 Murat by Notre Dame ? Ah ! 3^ou were fortunate 
 in escaping from Paris after that double murder. 
 You fled to England, I believe ? But why did you 
 return, my dear de Cheverny ? Nay, do not rise ; 
 we must conclude our game of Death with these 
 dice. It is your throw ! " 
 
 His face was grey with passion, and the great 
 veins sprang up like red weals leaping under the lash 
 of a whip. He stretched forth both his hands to- 
 wards my throat, his fingers working like the claws 
 of an angry bear, his eyes sparkling like jets of fire, 
 and I sprang to my feet, or he would have choked 
 my life out as soon as not. Finding me wary, he 
 
40 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 ripped the rapier from his side and made a thrust 
 at my body across the table. 
 
 " I want your blood ! " he hissed, and, leaning for- 
 ward, spat in my face. 
 
 This insult counterbalanced mine so completely, 
 that I had a thirsty longing to see the rascal die, 
 but I was too old a duellist to risk a fight in the 
 hostelry. Beating down Monsieur Silvain's lunges, 
 I bade him accompany me to a secluded spot, clear 
 of Pontigny, and he was scarcely so drunk with 
 madness as to be utterly blind to the wisdom of my 
 admonition. Throwing open the door, he lurched 
 out into the snow, and pulling on my boots and 
 snatching a lanthorn from the porch, I followed him 
 through the silent, sleeping village. Save for de 
 Cheverny's curses and the muffled tramping of our 
 feet, absolute stillness reigned, and one solitary 
 light glittered from the hostelry V^q a dancing, 
 crimson star. 
 
 When Silvain came to a stand by a little glade, I 
 congratulated him very courteously upon his choice 
 of ground, and as I set down the lanthorn, and com- 
 menced to pull off my coat, my mind went a-wan- 
 dering to Madame la Duchesse. Amid my strong 
 passionate memories of her charm and loveliness, 
 the bloody, inevitable duel faded away from my 
 thoughts, and, strange as it may seem, I was stripped 
 
THE DUEL AT NIGHT 41 
 
 and the cold wind biting- my face and breast before 
 my dreamy vision of Madame passed, and de Che- 
 verny's presence reminded me that for her sake I 
 must take his Hfe. While I gazed at him, the old 
 swash-buckling fascination of staking my blood on 
 a twirl of my rapier got hold of me again, and, with 
 the unconquered duellist's wicked joy, I laughed 
 quietl}^ — why, I know not, — and whipped the keen 
 air with my whistling blade until it flashed and 
 glimmered like a stream of fire. 
 
 Around the sparkling ribbon of turf on which we 
 stood, a fringe of snow-powdered firs and brambles 
 rustled in the wind, and through these crept the 
 moonrays to play in golden circles round our feet. 
 A little distance from Silvain was the lanthorn, and 
 I remember how the bright, steady glow clung to 
 his evil face, and changed his shirt from dirty-white 
 to scarlet. 
 
 While we waited, a hare limped trembhng past, 
 halting an instant in his fright, and the gay chal- 
 lenge of a stag came rolling up the valley. Once 
 more silence fell. De Cheverny was shivering, and 
 as I bared my right arm and slipped forward to en- 
 gage him, I noted that his eyes were no longer full 
 of fire, but had turned to a lustrous, glittering green. 
 I was wondering whether I looked so fierce— so wolf- 
 ish as he, when our blades met, and for a moment 
 
42 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 he pressed me hard with some swift, low lunges in 
 a manner surprisingly fine. Pardieu ! I give you 
 my word that his first assault drove me back, step 
 by step, until my old famous upper-thrust, flashing 
 like a streak of flame over his guard, made him 
 recollect he was dealing with Audran de Cliampion- 
 net. 
 
 We were shifting our position rapidly — sometimes 
 the brilliant moonbeams would be glimmering on 
 my face, sometimes on de Cheverny's, and at every 
 quick movement my spurs sent the snow spurting 
 upward in miniature showers. It was a beautiful 
 duel, and all the time I kept wondering where I 
 should pink Silvain first. He panted like a stag, 
 but came upon me with such excellent spirit that I 
 w^as loth to kill him in a hurry. Lunge ! lunge ! 
 lunge ! He stuck at it until his arm tired, and I 
 asked him whether he would like a breather. The 
 fool took my question as the bitterest insult, though 
 he was now as sober as myself. 
 
 *' You dog ! you coward ! " he gasped. " Do you 
 want to run away ? " 
 
 '' Nay, I am not a thief who steals horses ! " I 
 replied, lightly tripping back and whirling his 
 thrusts aside, when he re-engaged me with fresh 
 fury. " The chestnut mare you filched from the 
 shed by the crossroads belongs to me, Monsieur, 
 
THE DUEL AT NIGHT 43 
 
 and I call you a low thief ! Do you hear ? A thief 
 and a murderer ! " 
 
 He uttered a cry which trailed into the snarl of a 
 wolf, and breaking through my guard by a magnifi- 
 cent lunge, the rogue nearly drew first blood, for 
 I felt his blade tear a long rent in my shirt. Next 
 breath I gave him my point in his shoulder, and 
 fetched forth from his lips a lingering howl of rage. 
 
 We were fighting desperately, and, by Saint 
 Aignan, Monsieur de Cheverny displayed a rash 
 valour that forced me to admire his daring mode of 
 attack, his careless bravado, and his extraordinary 
 tenacity. But hate strengthens even a strong arm, 
 and Silvain loathed me with a passion akin to mad- 
 ness. His staring eyes, red in the lanthorn-glow, 
 green in the moon-rays, were for ever fixed on mine, 
 and so superb were his swift, low lunges that twice 
 he nearly won my life. Then of a sudden I slipped, 
 and here the rascal's iniquity was revealed in all its 
 nakedness, for 'fore I could recover he leapt for- 
 ward with the dash of a tiger, and had I not shown 
 marvellous fencing, he would have stabbed me with- 
 out hesitation where I lay. But somehow I stag- 
 gered again to my feet just as the moon, mounting 
 higher, shone full on his face, and parrying thrice, 
 I made a demi-volte, and as his blade shot like a 
 streak of light past my ear, I ran him through the 
 
44 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 neck ! He threw his arms wide, a gush of blood 
 flashed over his broad, heaving breast, crimsoning 
 his shirt from throat to waist ; then he swayed, 
 gasped two or three times, and clapping both hands 
 to the wound, spun slowly round, and sank down 
 upon the snow. 
 
 Mon Dieu, what a deathly silence reigned ! And 
 how bitter the night had grown ! I cleansed my 
 rapier, and returned it to the sheath, slipped on my 
 coat, and then, remembering I was no longer the 
 Vicomte de Championnet but Silvain de Cheverny, 
 I bent over my victim, dragged one reddened hand 
 from his throat, and robbed the stiff fingers of four 
 rings, among them the signet mentioned by M. le 
 Due d'Orleans, bearing the arms of the old Cheva- 
 lier. Then I searched his person, and fetched forth 
 some papers and a small jewelled locket, held by a 
 golden chain. These things I thrust into my 
 pockets, and carefully removing his linen, I arrayed 
 him in my own shirt, with the name ''Audran de 
 Championnet " embroidered on the shoulder. The 
 shirt was old, and my mother had spent many an 
 hour over that silken embroidery, but there are 
 times when one forgets a mother's love, even when 
 she is in heaven, and this was no night for wasting 
 moments by soliloquy or regret. 
 
 I was a man : I had a purpose, and was deter- 
 
THE DUEL AT NIGHT 45 
 
 mined that naught on earth should alter it, though 
 when I bent down to strip Monsieur de Cheverny, 
 and saw that the sweat on his face had frozen to 
 ice and glittered like a mask of crystal — when I 
 found that the blood on his breast was hard and 
 slippery as glass — when I twirled my handkerchief 
 around his throat to hide the ghastly wound, I was 
 seized with a great horror, and for the first time 
 since my childhood I tasted fear. My soul turned 
 sick within me while I exchanged perruques, and 
 rapiers, and money with the Thing that lay so still 
 upon the snow, until I was assured that when the 
 body was found all Paris would ring with the news 
 that M. le Vicomte de Championnet had been 
 killed in a duel at Pontigny. 
 
 Silvain's face, now tranquil in death, certainly 
 might easily be mistaken for mine, and I cherished 
 high hopes of my fraud, while I dressed myself in 
 one or two of Monsieur da Cheverny's garments by 
 the glow of the lanthorn until my disguise and his 
 were complete ; and then I hastened back to the 
 hostelry as though the Devil were on my trail. 
 And I doubt not that he was. 
 
 The light in the chamber was dim, and snatching 
 up my cloak, I ran out again Into the brilliant night 
 —all radiant with stars, and the golden glory of the 
 full, yellow moon. Stealing to the shed, I led forth 
 
46 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 M. le Due's chestnut mare, and swiftly bridling her, 
 I leapt to the saddle and sped lightly down the 
 road. Sometimes her hoofs made a sound as of 
 distant thunder where the snow was thick and pow- 
 dery — sometimes they rang on ice like chiming bells, 
 very loud and extraordinarily musical, and the keen 
 wind cut me to the bone. I rode on and on, and 
 so the night passed. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 CHEVERNY 
 
 It was a far journey to Cheverny, and most of 
 the time I was riding through light snowstorms, and 
 longing to gain the shelter of the chateau ; for now 
 I had killed Silvain I was ripe for any fresh rascality 
 which might come in my way. There was the 
 Chevalier to fool ! Well, that must be done, and I 
 think I may say I was a man of wit — of resource — 
 of extremely cool insolence and easy address, so a 
 fear of detection and inglorious exposure never so 
 much as entered my mind. No, I rode along with 
 a calm, even resolution to go through my task 
 and win Madame la Duchesse at all costs. And 
 undoubtedly Madame was worth the winning. I 
 hungered for her, and when the Chateau de Che- 
 verny came in sight I swore that I would play the 
 liar and the traitor well. Below me, as I drew rein 
 on the bosom of the hill, lay a small straggling 
 village, compassed about by woods, and cut in 
 twain by a glittering, silvery stream. The chateau, 
 
 47 
 
48 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 low, irregular, and quaintly gabled, crouched at the 
 head of the valley, and I gazed long upon it before 
 proceeding on my way. In the centre of the village 
 stood a smithy, and a man lurking about the door 
 opened his eyes, as I passed, with the most intense 
 interest. 
 
 " What is the matter, my friend ? " I cried, wag- 
 ging my head at him. '' One would think you saw 
 a ghost ! " 
 
 " Mille diables, it is Monsieur Silvain ! " he mut- 
 tered. '* He is come back again ! " And, laughing 
 loudly, I rode on, excellently pleased. " Come," I 
 soliloquised, "this promises to develop into a su- 
 perb jest. If these louts take me for Silvain de 
 Cheverny, why should not the Chevalier likewise 
 fall under the same misapprehension ? " 
 
 And when the lodge-keeper at the chateau exhib- 
 ited a similar surprise, I was still further encouraged 
 and delighted. Yet I noted that these men 
 showed no pleasure at my arrival. They did not 
 rush forward with a warm welcome or a cheery 
 word, neither did their faces lighten ; so I judged 
 Monsieur Silvain had been anything but beloved by 
 the country-folk of Cheverny. One or two grooms 
 and some maids appeared as I rattled into the court- 
 yard of the chateau, all gazing curiously at me ; 
 and, sliding from the saddle, I flung the reins to a 
 
CHEVERNY 49 
 
 stable-boy and bade him take good care of M. le 
 Due's mare. Then, bracing my heart high, I swung 
 around to the terrace, and banged upon the great 
 entrance door as though 'twere already my own. 
 A man dressed in a Hvery of cream and claret ad- 
 mitted me, and I gave him my cloak and hat. 
 
 ** Where is M. le Chevalier?" I cried. 
 
 ** In his room. Monsieur Silvain," replied the 
 servant. 
 
 '*Ah, you know me, then!" I replied. ''How 
 long is it since I left Cheverny?" 
 
 " Ten years, Monsieur." 
 
 " Ten years ! How time flies ! " I reflected. 
 " You say the Chevalier is in his room. Lead me 
 to him ! " 
 
 I followed the man up a broad, massive stair, then 
 through a magnificent corridor hung with some very 
 choice portraits, and halted at his heels by a little 
 curtained door. From within came the noise of a 
 devil of a racket, and, catching the man's sleeve, I 
 twirled him around before he could enter. 
 
 '' What's doing here ? " I whispered. " A duel, a 
 melee with swords, or a drunken carousal ? " 
 
 ** Monsieur," he replied, " it is cocks." 
 
 ** Cocks?" I gasped. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur ; they are fighting." 
 
 And I stood rooted to the floor in my amaze- 
 
so FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 ment. The din was so deafening that M. le Che- 
 valier's man stopped his ears ; and, gently opening 
 the door, I thrust aside the hangings and peeped in. 
 Ma foi ! what a sight met my eyes ! The Chevalier 
 de Cheverny, propped and supported by cushions 
 and pillows, sat in his bed, beating the air with his 
 fists and swearing in a manner that astonished me. 
 I had heard Monsieur the Regent rattle off a fine 
 string of oaths, and Dubois curse until he choked — 
 I had listened to M. le Due de Brancas while he 
 swore in three tongues ; but, on my soul, never did 
 I hearken to such a flame of white-hot blasphemy as 
 shot from the lips of M. le Chevalier. 
 
 His high-toned, delicate voice was all of a quiver 
 with passion ; his small light eyes darted fire ; and 
 his singularly beautiful face, though pale as marble, 
 streamed with sweat ; while his lean body, dressed 
 in a blue and yellow night-robe, seemed to be writh- 
 ing like a python. Upon his head was set a crim- 
 son cap, and a few wisps of silvery hair strayed over 
 his brow or crept down around his ears. Beyond 
 all doubt, the Chevalier de Cheverny was an 
 extremely striking and remarkable personage, and 
 the more he cursed and raved the greater became 
 my wonder that so eminently-refined a gentleman 
 in appearance should descend to the language of the 
 canaille, and revel in such peculiar sport. 
 
CHEVERNY 51 
 
 In the centre of the room, on a strip of rich Al- 
 giers carpet, two cocks were fighting furiously, 
 and behind each knelt a valet, one in the de Che- 
 verny livery, and the other arrayed in crimson and 
 daffodil. Opposite the Chevalier, and standing with 
 his legs thrown wide apart, was a gentleman whose 
 fascinating countenance and delightful demeanor 
 might have won any woman's heart, or man's either, 
 for that matter, and I felt a wonderful admiration 
 towards him as I gazed upon his face, full of a reck- 
 less humour — a wealth of courage and a strength 
 which in some gifted natures underlies a mask of 
 frivolity hard to dispel. He was tall and slim, ex- 
 traordinarily handsome, with a pair of big bright 
 eyes that danced like diamonds, and while I stared 
 at him the longing to feel his rapier grind against 
 mine came into my heart, and I knew that here was 
 one worthy to engage the best duellist in France. 
 
 I would have sworn Monsieur could fence — his 
 pose, his lithe, swinging movements — his quick, 
 flashing glance, revealed to the imaginative eye a 
 very finished swordsman, and the longer I watched 
 him the greater grew my admiration for his magnifi- 
 cent presence and inimitable geniality. He was 
 young : he wore his own hair, of a rich chestnut 
 colour ; his coat was of purple velvet, his vest of 
 cream and rose, his breeches of white satin, and at 
 
52 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 his side huni^ a beautiful rapier in a sheath of scar- 
 let leather. Glancing down at my own rags, I 
 flushed with shame to see my poverty, then laughed 
 low, and listened to the betting on the fighting- 
 cocks, that sprang and fluttered and warred upon 
 the Algiers rug until the floor was strewn with 
 feathers and spattered with blood. 
 
 The face of the valet in crimson and daffodil, as 
 he shuffled around on his hands and knees, making 
 a queer clucking noise to encourage the birds, was 
 something to see, and long 'fore I knew his master's 
 name I guessed the fellow was an Englishman. 
 
 " A hundred louis on Zozime, M. le Marquis ! " 
 cried the Chevalier. 
 
 *' Two on Saint Peter ! " replied the stranger. 
 " Burn my blood, Chevalier, you like your stakes 
 high ! *' 
 
 " Zozime wins — he wins ! I will lay three on 
 him ! " screamed de Cheverny. " Will you make 
 the bets even ? " 
 
 " No, damned if I do. Saint Peter is getting 
 stripped ! " cried M. le Marquis, fanning his face 
 with a handkerchief of Alen^on lace, which diffused 
 a thick perfume of mingled jasmine and Parma 
 violet. " His breast feathers are gone, but the old 
 devil is game, and so he'll die. Well, 'tis a gentle- 
 man's death, and I wish for no better myself ! " 
 
CHEVERNY S3 
 
 " Stand in my path and you shall have it, M. le 
 Marquis ! " I murmured, 'neath my breath, for 
 somehow the swift thought tore at my heart that 
 this man might be my foe, and that in fooHng the 
 ChevaHer I should also have to deal with his bril- 
 liant guest. Well, there is no stopping the wheel 
 of fate, and shrugging my shoulders with the old 
 careless nonchalance which has always proved my 
 truest comrade, I let my left hand fall limp, and 
 patted my rapier caressingly. 
 
 The birds fought on amid bets and laughter, and 
 curses, and the spirit of the gambler within me gave 
 my soul no rest, and I had a great thirst to lay all I 
 possessed on the black and scarlet cock named 
 Zozime. 
 
 " My Saint Peter is himself again, and, by the 
 Heaven above me, he'll win yet, M. le Chevalier ! " 
 cried the Marquis. '' Five hundred louis to three 
 that he gives the death-stroke ! " 
 
 '' Six hundred on Zozime," said the Chevalier. 
 " Look, Monsieur, your bird's wing seems broken. 
 Ah, now we shall see the end of it ! " 
 
 The black and scarlet cock was prowling around 
 Saint Peter, his head held low, his claws gripping 
 the Algiers rug, and both wings raised a little above 
 his back ; while the other bird, clucking ferociously, 
 stood on one leg, his right spur tucked close to his 
 
54 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 breast, awaiting the chance to strike. It soon came. 
 Zozime flew high and descended with a splutter of 
 fury upon his enemy ; but Saint Peter fluttered 
 aside, escaping with a deep scratch in the neck, from 
 which blood flowed freely. 
 
 " Damn ! " cried the Marquis, and the Chevalier 
 gave a low, rippling chuckle, stretching forth his 
 hands and clawing the air in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 I could restrain myself no longer. 
 
 '' Ten louis on M. le Chevalier's cock ! " I shouted, 
 springing into the chamber, and at that very moment 
 Zozime ran recklessly in, and Saint Peter, hovering 
 above him, swooped down like a falcon, and split 
 his head apart with a blow that sounded as a pebble 
 thrown against glass. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, you have won ! " cried the Chevalier. 
 
 "Yes, I have won," said M. le Marquis, and then 
 all eyes were turned on me. Those of de Cheverny 
 glittered like crystal — a smile played across his thin 
 lips, and without exhibiting the slightest surprise 
 he welcomed me in a manner neither cold nor 
 warm. 
 
 ** It is Silvain ! " he remarked, as though his 
 nephew were no stranger. " Monsieur de Cheverny : 
 Monsieur le Marquis de Merivale ! " 
 
 I bowed, the Marquis acknowledged my courtesy 
 with great elegance, and this was our introduction 
 
CHEVERNY 55 
 
 beneath the roof of the chateau, which in time, if I 
 played my cards aright, might be my own. Before 
 me lay the dead bird on which I had staked my ten 
 louis, and M. le Chevalier's valet busied himself in 
 scraping together the scattered feathers that littered 
 the chamber from end to end, while M. le Marquis 
 favoured his man with a string of instructions which 
 turned me dizzy. 
 
 " Michael," he said, " you may take Saint Peter 
 away, give him a few grains of the white powder, 
 wash his wounds, bind up his wing, anoint him with 
 balsam, then make him swallow a few drops of 
 brandy and put him into the box lined with white 
 silk. Do not leave him for one moment until I come 
 to relieve you, and, with the Chevalier's permission, 
 I will have him removed to my room, that I may be 
 able to glance at him once or twice every hour dur- 
 ing the night. I could not, I fear, exhibit a similar 
 devotion towards a wife, but then a wife is not a 
 fighting-cock. Wait a moment, Michael ; you seem 
 in the devil of a hurry," rattled on M. le Marquis, 
 taking his bird from the valet and examining the 
 wounds through a quizzing-glass. " God help me, 
 I forgot to mention that among my shirts you will 
 discover a soothing powder recommended by Lucon 
 of London. It must be given the cock at once, and 
 when he is safe in his box be careful to place a small 
 
56 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 glass of liqueur brandy at the right-hand corner. 
 Dilute it with water. I have known Saint Peter 
 turn a calm night into a bacchanalian carousal after 
 a victory of this kind. Take him and go ! M. le 
 Chevalier, I have enjoyed a very delightful hour, 
 and I hope to heaven Mademoiselle Aur^lie may 
 not hear of it. By my pure soul, she has caught 
 us! 
 
 " Yes, I have caught you, M. le Marquis ! At 
 your old sport again ! How dare you disobey my 
 commands? How dare you force cocks to fight in 
 my father's chamber — you and your friends ? It is 
 shameful, and, by Sainte Marie, I've more than half 
 a mind to make you all smart for your pleasure ! " 
 and the lash of a man's riding-whip hissed perilousty 
 near the Marquis de Merivale's shoulders and then 
 flicked out at the grinning visage of the old Cheva- 
 lier, who swiftly dived under the coverlet ; while 
 the valets, laughing from ear to ear, darted away 
 through the door as Mademoiselle made a pretence 
 of cutting at their calves. 
 
 Pardieu, never in my life had I seen so superb a 
 girl ! As she stood there in her magnificent passion, 
 beating the air with her whip and stamping one 
 little foot at the Chevalier and M. le Marquis, I 
 found leisure to drink in her extraordinary beauty, 
 and to wonder at the delightful abandon of her 
 
CHEVERNY 57 
 
 supple, perfect form. She was dressed in a white 
 riding-habit, slashed across the bosom with scarlet 
 and silver, and a trifle the worse for wear and tear ; 
 her hat clung jauntily to a head that rippled with 
 short, russet-gold hair, and her face, browned by a 
 life's revelling amid heaven's winds and sun-rays, 
 and warmed now by the keen sting of winter, was 
 full of a charm that crept into a man's heart like a 
 thief in the night. Her brilliant eyes, though iolite 
 in hue, were almost irridescent in their passion, 
 and her crimson lips beyond description as they 
 parted, showed her little gleaming teeth that 
 grinded very prettily all the while. 
 
 "■ Sacre ! " I murmured, " the husband who could 
 master her would be hard to find. Madame la Du- 
 chesse has a great spirit, but Mademoiselle Aurelie 
 is the devil of a woman ! " 
 
 M. le Marquis allowed her temper to cool, smiling 
 and bowing with exasperating imperturbability ; 
 and then she swung round on me, still cracking her 
 whip, and surveyed me as though she wondered why 
 I met her gaze so well. 
 
 *' It is really too bad of you, Messieurs ! " she 
 said. '' My father is in no fit state to see cocks fight, 
 though I'll swear he's the worst of the three. And 
 what men can see in such sport, Heaven only knows ! 
 This mess of feathers — these splashes of blood — 
 
58 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 faugh, 'tis maddening ! Will this gentleman dine 
 with us to-night?" she inquired, turning swiftly on 
 the Chevalier. 
 
 '* My angel, it is Silvain ! " cooed M. le Chevalier, 
 from amid his pillows. " Of course he will dine 
 with us ! He is our guest." 
 
 " Aurelie ! " I muttered, glancing perplexedly 
 around, and then my lips were sealed. She ap- 
 proached, quivering with passion, and I should 
 scarcely have been surprised had she spat in my face. 
 
 '' My nephew Silvain ; my daughter Aurelie," 
 murmured the Chevalier, in his soft, mocking tones. 
 *' Don't you remember one another? You used to 
 be such lovers once on a time ! " 
 
 And then I knew that Aurelie loathed the very 
 name of Silvain de Cheverny. 
 
 *' Yes," she said, " I remember him. M. le Mar- 
 quis, did you bring this man here? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I made his acquaintance at the 
 will of M. le Chevalier," returned the Englishman, 
 laughing across the room at me, and at that instant 
 a little moan came from betwixt the teeth of M. de 
 Cheverny : he commenced to shudder, and Aurelie's 
 face, cleansed of all passion, might have been that 
 of a saint as she sprang to the bed, and, stooping, 
 lifted the old man's body in her strong young arms, 
 and made his white cheek rest against her own. 
 
CHEVERNY 59 
 
 " Fetch me the red phial, M. le Marquis ! " she 
 whispered, stretching out one hand. *' Be quick ! 
 Now open his lips and pour a few drops down his 
 throat. Ten thousand thanks! Do not allow your 
 cocks to fight again in this chamber. The excite- 
 ment was too much. He is old — and my father. 
 Promise me, Monsieur ; you are a man of honour and 
 a gentleman ! " 
 
 " Mademoiselle, rather than this had happened, I 
 would have lost my right hand," said the Marquis. 
 '* Is there aught else I can do ? " 
 
 She shook her head ; her hat fell to the floor, and a 
 long stream of wintry sunlight, stealing through the 
 mullioned window, touched her hair with rippling, 
 sparkling gold, and her great eyes were iolite again, 
 and shone like bright, soft stars. 
 
 " Leave us, Monsieur! " she murmured, and, bow- 
 ing with exquisite grace, M. le Marquis de Merivale 
 quitted the room. I did not follow him, but leaned 
 negligently against the wall, watching Mademoiselle 
 as she drew the Chevalier's head still closer to her 
 face, unconscious of my presence. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 MADEMOISELLE SHOWS HER TEETH 
 
 " Mademoiselle Aurelie ! " I softly murmured, 
 and then again, a little more distinctly — " Made- 
 moiselle! " 
 
 She turned upon me like a flash of light. 
 
 " What do you here ? " she said, her words falling 
 on my ear as cold and stinging as hailstones. ** I 
 know you could not be a gentleman if you tried, 
 Monsieur Silvain, and delicacy was never one of 
 your virtues ; yet you might, at the least, have fol- 
 lowed M. le Marquis from the chamber. But what 
 can one expect of you ? " 
 
 I saw her lip curl maddeningly, and there was some- 
 thing in her face that lashed me like a thong and 
 made me shrink as though I had been whipped to 
 overwhelming shame. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," I stammered, ** you are hard on 
 
 me. You do not treat me as a kinsman. I stayed 
 
 to beg your friendship, and you offer me nothing 
 
 but insult." 
 60 
 
MADEMOISELLE SHOWS HER TEETH 6i 
 
 " And what of yourself?" she flashed out, laying 
 the Chevalier's silvery head back among the pillows. 
 ** You are my cousin, and you are heir to Cheverny, 
 but that does not make me hate you less. And 
 your proper place is the Bastille, Monsieur." 
 
 '' I have come from the Bastille," I replied. 
 " Here is my pardon, signed by the Regent. I am 
 a free man, Mademoiselle, and because in a fit of 
 mad passion I killed M. le Comte de Murat and 
 Mademoiselle Crespigny, who played me false, there 
 is no reason for you to imagine me altogether a 
 villain." 
 
 *' You were always that ! " she said, picking up 
 her hat and tossing it into a corner of the room, and 
 I began to see how intense was her loathing for 
 Monsieur Silvain. I needed all my tact, my wit, 
 and my quickness of resource to keep pace with 
 Mademoiselle when she ran back over ground on 
 which I had never travelled, and reminded me of 
 certain early episodes wherein Silvain figured largely 
 in arrogance — in detestable cruelty and in merciless 
 pride ; and from her lips I gathered more of his real 
 character than I had ever hoped to glean. She 
 judged him by her girlish recollections, and the ten 
 long years that had rolled away had burned the 
 remembrance of his wickedness and folly upon her 
 brain and heart. It was somewhat hard, even for 
 
62 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 me, to play the part of so great a rascal, but I threw 
 myself into a reflex of his personality with such a 
 will that, by my soul's salvation, at times I almost 
 forgot I was the Vicomte de Championnet and 
 cringed at Mademoiselle's scorn in a manner which 
 I doubt not caused her vast satisfaction. 
 
 " I have never forgotten how you served the stag 
 that day down by the old well ! " she mused. 
 
 "■ Nor I. Believe me, I have utterly repented." 
 
 ''And the old blind man — Antoine Coudray — 
 bah ! the very thought of your cruelty makes me 
 shudder." 
 
 *' Mademoiselle, you are pitiless." 
 
 " As you were to him ! " she cried, with fine con- 
 tempt. " Monsieur Silvain, do not try to whitewash 
 your reputation. It would crumble at the first 
 touch of your brush. It is enough humiliation for 
 me to realise that you are here, and that I must 
 offer you hospitality." 
 
 I bowed, and a little soft laugh sounded from the 
 bed. M. le Chevalier's eyes were wide open, and 
 he had heard every word. 
 
 " Aurelie, you shame me ! " he said, a deep, wicked 
 smile cutting his venerable face into a thousand 
 wrinkles. " I command you to receive Silvain at 
 Cheverny as an honoured guest. His Highness the 
 Regent has pardoned him," 
 
MADEMOISELLE SHOWS HER TEETH (y^ 
 
 "■ His Highness the Regent would pardon the 
 devil ! " returned Mademoiselle, glancing at me as 
 though I were a toad on which she longed to stamp 
 her foot. "You have forgotten that M. le Marquis 
 de Merivale is here." 
 
 '' Silvain's presence will not poison him," reflected 
 the Chevalier. 
 
 " Nay ; but Monsieur le Marquis is a gentleman," 
 she said. 
 
 '' Mademoiselle, ma cousine," I ventured, '' you 
 remind me of a wasp." 
 
 " It is usual for wasps to sting those who offend 
 them," she answered, somewhat wearily. 
 
 *' Aurelie, bring me the red phial. I am dizzy 
 again," whispered the Chevalier ; and all my fury 
 towards Mademoiselle melted away when she re- 
 arranged his pillow with a swift tenderness, while 
 he drank the liquid and sat up, a flush momentarily 
 crimsoning his cheeks. She was like Spring hov- 
 ering round Winter's hoary locks — Spring radiant 
 with beauty, full of rich, warm life, and strength, 
 and love ; and as I watched her I think my melan- 
 choly eyes must have dragged a shred of pity from 
 her heart, for in a wonderful, sudden manner she took 
 my hand. 
 
 '' I do not like you, Silvain," she said ; " but 
 you've a face that tells me you're something of a 
 
64 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 man at heart. I wish your past were cleaner and 
 your manners were better. Will you leave me alone 
 with my father? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle — Aur^lie," I answered, " I have 
 only been waiting for one kind word." And I re- 
 treated from the chamber in haste, lest my famili- 
 arity might bring further chastisement by tongue 
 or by riding-whip. 
 
 I went down the stair and entered a very beautiful 
 salon. It was empty ; and, sinking into a chair, I 
 took up Le Sage's " Gil Bias de Santillane." Ma- 
 demoiselle's name was written on the title-page, and 
 underneath : '' From Merivale, in memory of sweet 
 hours at Cheverny." 
 
 *' Oh-ho ! " I thought, " so Monsieur le Marquis 
 has been sunning himself in the blaze of Mademoi- 
 selle's bright eyes. He may be her lover. Well, 
 he is very welcome." And, rising again, I tossed 
 the book down and sauntered out upon the terrace. 
 
 Traces of the recent snow lay about the parterre, 
 and the pretty gilded berceaux that in summer-time 
 were smothered by vines and honeysuckles shone 
 desolate and naked in the faint rose-glow of the 
 wintry afternoon sun. Beyond the park lay great 
 woods, and I could see the head of a valley and the 
 quick rush of a silvery stream threading its way 
 through the village of Cheverny. There was a 
 
MADEMOISELLE SHOWS HER TEETH 65 
 
 subtle fascination in the scene ; everything seemed 
 so still, so intensely silent, and the old chateau be- 
 hind me threw a vast grotesque shadow over the 
 parterre. As I walked to and fro my thoughts grew 
 deep and large, and again they roved back to Ma- 
 dame la Duchesse de Berri, Although I had onl}^ 
 just returned to France after a lengthy absence, 
 rumours of Madame's participation with M. le Due 
 d'Orleans in extraordinary gaieties at the Luxem- 
 bourg and the Palais-Royal were as common as sin 
 in Paris. It was said she had a dozen lovers. 
 
 D'Anquital had sneered at her constancy, and my 
 resentment meant a duel on my return, unless he 
 chose to allow the matter to rest. But I never 
 believed these fables of Madame, They were in- 
 vented by the Regent's enemies, and although I 
 knew her to be gay — to be fond of pleasure — to 
 covet admiration, like all women who love the 
 bright world, I would not for one moment place 
 credence in scandal disseminated by the devotees 
 of that clever little intriguer, Madame la Duchesse 
 du Maine. And God only could tell what plots she 
 might be hatching at Sceaux for the destruction of 
 the Regency. 
 
 Long ago, in my palmier days, I had been one of 
 the privileged admitted to the Sceaux circle — and I 
 knew everyone worth knowing, from the Cardinal 
 
66 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 de Polignac to M. de Malezieu ; but times had 
 changed — my fortunes had changed, and although 
 Madame la Duchesse du Maine still held a mag- 
 nificent Court, which in the latter days of Louis 
 Quatorze had curiously contrasted with the dull 
 monotony of the Grand Monarque's own, and 
 gathered about her men of letters, of the drama, and 
 of the sword, my wild gambling spirit and roving 
 temperament alienated me steadily from my old 
 illustrious acquaintances ; and at last, weary of 
 tolerating my endless duels and my recklessness at 
 the dice or the lansquenet table, even my lord Car- 
 dinal, when we met, passed with a cool nod that 
 made my face flame. 
 
 Well, well! What cared I? Friends, such as 
 they are, come and go, and if a dozen saints cut my 
 company, I always found twenty sinners to aid me 
 spend a gay night with the wine and the cards ! 
 And, to tell the truth, I was more at home 'mid 
 the sinners than the saints. Perhaps this was why 
 Madame la Duchesse de Berri so fascinated me. 
 
 Life to Madame seemed to be a road which should 
 be strewn with roses, and fringed by the admiration 
 of a thousand fond lovers whose hopes were centred 
 wholly on her smiles, and I, to whom she had given 
 caresses and a promise which kept my heart dancing 
 like a ball on a water spray, counted myself the 
 
MADEMOISELLE SHOWS HER TEETH (y] 
 
 luckiest man in all France. I was already closer to 
 her and to my reward : I had killed the rascal Sil- 
 vain, gained a footing in the chateau, and had even 
 won a graceless word of indulgence from Mademoi- 
 selle Aurelie, who, like a hound, appeared to know a 
 rogue by instinct. This was exceedingly gratifying, 
 and I began to cast about in my quick mind how I 
 might further ingratiate myself into her reluctant 
 favour, and use her as a medium 'twixt the Chevalier 
 and myself in my diplomatic strivings to gain pos- 
 session of those letters relating to the new conspiracy. 
 
 Then there was M. le Marquis de Merivale. 
 What was he doing at Cheverny ? I would make it 
 my business to find out, and, if possible, get rid of 
 a most inconveniently astute and frivolous English- 
 man. If it came to the worst I should have to quar- 
 rel with him, and send my blade under his ribs. 
 The trick was nothing new to me — and now I was 
 gaily careering down the hill to Hell, a life, more 
 or less, on my soul could scarcely matter. Ruat 
 ccelum ! and I would try at the last to be a man ! 
 
 While I pondered, who should approach from one 
 of the berceaux but M. le Marquis himself, and, 
 strolling through the gardens, he ascended the steps 
 to the terrace and honoured me by a careless nod. 
 
 " A magnificent afternoon, M. le Marquis ! " I 
 observed. 
 
68 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Very," he replied. 
 
 "You seem much at home in Cheverny," I said, 
 trying to be rude against my will. He put his hands 
 in his pockets, and surveyed me with a laughing 
 eye. 
 
 " You are, I understand, heir to Cheverny," he 
 remarked, leaning against the marble balustrade, 
 *'but I cannot compliment the domain on its future 
 owner. Monsieur, you resemble one of my cocks. 
 You crow loudest on other people's dunghills, and 
 until the Chevalier and* Mademoiselle tire of my 
 company I shall make myself as much at home here 
 as I please." 
 
 I laughed back at him. 
 
 "Ah, it is Mademoiselle ! " I cried. " She is the 
 lodestar, eh, M. le Marquis ? " and I looked to see 
 his face flush, but with a wonderful serenity he 
 cocked his head a little on one side, and hummed a 
 scrap of an opera song, very softly, in a manner that 
 rasped against my temper like a file. 
 
 " It is Mademoiselle who keeps you at Cheverny ! " 
 I cried again, bent on making his passion burst. 
 
 " Are the grapes sour, Monsieur ? " he murmured, 
 brushing a clot of snow from his shoe. " You seem 
 to resent my presence here ; but I can assure you 
 Mademoiselle's smiles are a hundred times more 
 alluring than your frowns, and as long as the sun- 
 
MADEMOISFXLE SHOWS HER TEETH 69 
 
 shine of her eyes warms my heart, I shall feel I am 
 welcome at Cheverny. But you appear to be an 
 unbidden guest. Why is that?" 
 
 "Your insolence, M. le Marquis, is getting the 
 better of my temper," I replied, " and unless you 
 wish to measure swords with me, I think you would 
 be wise in bridling your loose tongue." 
 
 '' Oh ! " he laughed. '' I believe you want a duel, 
 burn my red blood if I don't ! " 
 
 " The matter may go as far as M. le Marquis 
 pleases," I said. 
 
 '' Well, Monsieur Silvain, you certainly amuse 
 me," he answered, *' and I have no doubt you are 
 thirsting to hear your rapier rattle 'gainst mine ; 
 but It is not my custom, or the custom of any hon- 
 ourable Englishman, to fight with low rufflers who 
 think it no shame to stab defenceless men and 
 women in the dark streets by the Cathedral of Notre 
 Dame. Adieu, Monsieur, adieu ! and the Marquis 
 swung away into the salon to meet Mademoiselle, 
 leaving me alone on the terrace to gnash my teeth 
 in fury. At the moment I forgot I was not Silvain 
 de Cheverny. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 
 
 The days passed drearily at the chateau ; I was 
 tolerated by Aurelie and the Marquis, feared by the 
 grooms, hated by the maids, and treated by the 
 Chevalier with a strange mingling of friendliness 
 and subtle contempt. At times I had a strong 
 mind to be Audran de Championnet once more — to 
 throw off the Silvain mask and with art and flattery 
 win my way into Mademoiselle's heart ; but then 
 the fear came across me that I might be discovered, 
 and my little plans nipped in the ripening bud. M. 
 le Marquis and I spoke no more of a duel, and when 
 I had accompanied him to one of the berceaux and 
 won a hundred louis by betting on a new cock 
 which nearly killed Saint Peter in the first encoun- 
 ter, I was almost ready to forgive him for his affront 
 on the terrace. 
 
 Mademoiselle too, now and again, deigned to 
 address me, and I had many opportunities of observ- 
 ing her very excellent qualities and admirable 
 70 
 
MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 71 
 
 strength of character. Although no older than 
 Madame la Duchesse, who was scarcely twenty-two, 
 and who had been schooled in the world's gaiety 
 and fascination and sin at Versailles, the Palais- 
 Royal, and the Luxembourg, I warrant Aurelie de 
 Cheverny was not a whit less accomplished in her 
 knowledge of men and Court folly ; for from the 
 Chevalier she might have learned enough scandal, 
 palace intrigue, and wickedness to turn a giddier 
 woman's head. Yes, M. le Chevalier, like Dubois, 
 knew everything — he frequently received long let- 
 ters from old Parisian acquaintances who were con- 
 versant with all that was happening round the 
 Regent or at the Court of Sceaux, where the 
 Duchesse du Maine still magnetised a splendid fol- 
 lowing by her magnificent fetes and delightful 
 gaities, and in dull moments, over his wine, he re- 
 galed his daughter with reminiscences of his past 
 which were most certainly unfit for any woman's 
 ears. But Aurelie was a girl of a thousand, and 
 there happened days of melancholy when I would 
 have given my sight for such a flood of devotion 
 and love as she poured upon the unworthy old 
 Chevalier, I say I was melancholy, and how I know 
 not, save that sometimes 'tis the sinner's scourge, 
 but there were great reasons why I should keep a 
 high heart during the next few weeks. While my 
 
72 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 plot was dormant others were quickening, and I 
 was soon plunged in a veritable whirlpool of extraor- 
 dinary happenings. M. le Chevalier, who had 
 been downstairs a little, was forced again to retire 
 to his bed, and I was surprised one day when Aurelie 
 came with a message from him. 
 
 " My father would like to see you," she said, not 
 over-delightedly, and following her to the chamber, 
 I found the old scoundrel sitting up in his bed. 
 His strange, wicked eyes gleamed as I entered, and, 
 stretching out a slender hand, he bade me welcome. 
 Aurelie immediately retired, and, closing the door, 
 I locked it fast. 
 
 '* Why is that ? " asked the Chevalier, peering 
 across at me and moistening his dry lips with his 
 tongue. 
 
 " For precaution's sake, Monsieur," I answered. 
 *' You have something extremely important to tell 
 me." 
 
 " What makes you think so, Silvain ? " he asked. 
 
 " Because otherwise you would not have desired 
 my presence here. All the days I have been at 
 Cheverny you and the Marquis and Aurelie have 
 watched and watched me incessantly, and I may as 
 well tell you that I am tired of it. I am your 
 nephew, I am heir to the chateau and the demesne, 
 I possess the Regent's pardon for a crime done in 
 
MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 73 
 
 hot blood, and there is no reason why I should not 
 be a son to you, M. le Chevalier." 
 
 " None whatever," he reflected, '*if I could only 
 trust you." 
 
 " You might trust me with your life," I said, the 
 words almost burning my throat. 
 
 " Will you swear that ? " he asked, in a sharp 
 voice, and I answered : 
 
 " Monsieur, I will." 
 
 " You love M. le Due d'Orleans, Silvain ? " he con- 
 tinued, glancing swiftly at my face. 
 
 " No," I replied, *' I hate him." 
 
 '' That is well ! " he said, softly ; " so do I, Silvain, 
 so do I ! But you do not hate him enough to wish 
 him dead? " 
 
 " I would kill him with my own hand if the chance 
 came ! " I returned, and the Chevalier caught my 
 wrist in an ecstasy of delight and drew my ear down 
 to his lips. 
 
 '' The chance shall come ! " he whispered, panting 
 as though his breath were spent, and picking at the 
 sheets, scarce whiter than his own face, with fingers 
 that twitched and trembled. A sudden silence fell 
 between us, and I could not help smiling to think 
 how the Regent would have laughed had he heard 
 my mock braggadocio. 
 
 Mon Dieu, I seemed to be playing my cards with 
 
74 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 success, and slowly but surely M. le Chevalier was 
 beginning to succumb to my lying protestations of 
 faith and loyalty. So low had I come ! Yet what 
 could I do ? There was Madame la Duchesse to be 
 won ; and if ever a woman was worth sinning for, it 
 was she. 
 
 While the Chevalier lay back amid his pillows in 
 meditation, I stood looking at him and playing with 
 my rings. Among them was the Cheverny signet 
 he had given Silvain, and I daresay this, more than 
 my superb acting, disarmed him of any slight sus- 
 picion of my right to use the chateau as I pleased 
 in a masterful manner peculiarly my own. 
 
 The afternoon darkened, and, lighting a candle, I 
 drew the heavy curtains just as M. le Chevalier 
 roused himself from something resembling a lethargic 
 stupor. 
 
 " You are still here, Silvain ? " he whispered. 
 
 " I am waiting on you, Monsieur," I replied, and 
 the old subtle sparkle danced to his eyes once more. 
 
 '' Ah, we were speaking of His Highness the 
 Regent ! " he answered, and I watched his white 
 fingers crawl to my wrist with a little shudder of 
 nameless horror. 
 
 *' Yes, we were speaking of the Regent," I said. 
 "You want me to kill him." 
 
 His lips emitted a low, evil laugh. 
 
MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 75 
 
 " You should be well paid for your work," he 
 murmured. 
 
 " Murder deserves a reward,'* I replied. " What 
 would be yours. Monsieur?" 
 
 " You are mercenary, Silvain ! " M. le Chevalier 
 cooed. " It was always gold, gold, gold, when you 
 were a boy, and time has not cured your avarice. 
 Do you remember when you stole my purse, eh, 
 you thief?" 
 
 *' Perfectly," I returned, with a sangfroid that was 
 admirable. 
 
 " What did you do with the money? " he asked. 
 
 Some men might have been cornered by this, but 
 M. le Vicomte de Championnet was no ordinary 
 adventurer of the bull-headed type. He had brains 
 — he had quickness — he had imagination, and the 
 reply came very swiftly : 
 
 " Monsieur, I spent it all among the officers of the 
 Gardes Frangaises. Half went at lansquenet, half 
 at dice. It was only five hundred louis ! " 
 
 " Seven ! " he corrected. 
 
 " Seven then," I answered. " Well, it does not 
 matter — all was lost at the gaming-tables." 
 
 " I imagined that," he said. *' Ten years have 
 passed." 
 
 '•' Is it really so long a time ? " I mused. " Peste ! 
 how a man's life flies. And the devil of it is that 
 
76 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 one gets so little gaiety out of it. Now what do 
 you want me to do, Monsieur — kill the Regent by 
 poison, by knife, or by bullet ? " 
 
 '' I want you to kill him in any way you please," 
 he replied, lowering his voice again to a thin, intense 
 whisper. '' Silvain, I am deep in a plot with Al- 
 beroni for the overthrow of the Regency." 
 
 I drew back with affected surprise. 
 
 " I have letters here," he continued, glueing his 
 lips to my ear — "letters from my Lord Cardinal, 
 Madame la Duchesse du Maine, and a dozen others, 
 all united in a common hatred against M. le Due 
 d'Orleans and that pretty wanton, Madame la 
 Duchesse de Berri." 
 
 I shook his fingers from my wrist, and Pardieu ! 
 it was a hard matter for me to keep my own from 
 his throat. I choked with rage : my face, I know, 
 was grey with passion, and had M. le Chevalier been 
 a younger man I would have almost thrashed him 
 as he lay. But I controlled my temper, and pres- 
 ently, growing calmer, I ventured a strong remon- 
 strance. 
 
 " What have you heard of Madame la Duchesse 
 de Berri, Monsieur ? " I demanded. 
 
 " Much," he said. 
 
 "Evil?" I asked. 
 
 " Yes," he replied. " What else ? " 
 
MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 77 
 
 "But I am her lover!" I cried, the words 
 wrenched from my h'ps by the cool torture of M. le 
 Chevalier's exasperating manner. The next moment 
 I cursed myself as the greatest fool under God's 
 sun. 
 
 "You are only one of them," said the Chevalier. 
 " She has a score." 
 
 "It would be no wonder if ten thousand wor- 
 shipped her," I replied, the sweat running down my 
 face. 
 
 "There are a great many idiots in Paris," he re- 
 turned, " and you appear to be one of them. But 
 as you have only just been released from the Bas- 
 tille, I cannot quite understand how she has found 
 time to fascinate you." 
 
 " I met her at the Luxembourg," I said, sinking 
 deeper into the mire. 
 
 " At the Luxembourg? What were you doing 
 there?" 
 
 " I was at the Luxembourg by the Regent's in- 
 vitation." 
 
 " Immediately after you left the Bastille? " 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 "And why?" he asked; and finding me silent, 
 M. le Chevalier drew me closer and hissed again 
 into my ear, " And why ? " My lips were sealed ; I 
 tried to lie, but the words would not come, and 
 
78 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 though I wrenched myself free, De Cheverny made 
 another snatch at my wrist, shd back my sleeve, ran 
 his fingers along my arm, and then thrust me aside 
 with a strange shrill laugh that leapt echoing 
 round the chamber like the snarl of some wild 
 beast. 
 
 " Caught ! " he screamed. " Caught ! You 
 devil ! You damned spy ! Ha ! ha ! you would 
 have been clever indeed to fool Antoine de Cheverny, 
 and yet I see how nearly I was fooled. You had 
 the signet, you had Silvain's face, you had his voice 
 and his insolence, but you have not his loud, harsh 
 laugh. Monsieur, nor his scar on your arm. These 
 trifles escaped you when you decided, no doubt at 
 the instance of the Regent of France, to try and 
 pass yourself for my nephew, and steal some secrets 
 from me. But I have found you out — the whole 
 plot is plain as glaring day, and I know now why 
 you came to Cheverny. Oh-ho ! to think the grooms, 
 and the serving-men, and the maids, and Aurelic 
 should be cheated day after day by a rascal whose 
 villainy was only discovered by an old man ! " And 
 he began to shout at the top of his voice for Made- 
 moiselle and M. le Marquis de Merivale. 
 
 I sprang forward and clapped a hand on his mouth, 
 tripping against a chair as I did so, and knocking 
 over the candle. In an instant, in the wink of an 
 
MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 79 
 
 eye, M. le Chevalier squirmed like an eel from my 
 grasp, and leapt out of the bed. I heard him patter 
 across the room, I heard him searching to and fro, 
 and presently a slight clicking noise made me start, 
 and I knew he had found a pistol. I could not see 
 him, but, scenting danger, I pulled my rapier free and 
 moved cautiously backward. The quick pant of his 
 breath was loud, and I was wondering in what part 
 of the chamber he was standing when the snap of a 
 trigger and a faint flash of flint told me that the 
 weapon had missed fire. A flood of blasphemy 
 poured from M. le Chevalier's lips, and then, still 
 listening, a silvery, tinkling noise struck on my 
 ears, and the pattering of his bare feet recom- 
 menced. 
 
 " Sang Dieu, he has a sword ! " I muttered ; and, 
 dropping to my knees, I began to search for the 
 candle, which had rolled underneath the bed. Grop- 
 ing with outstretched hands, I moved along, and 
 suddenly my fingers touched a man's ankle. It was 
 the ChevaUer's, and I heard him give a soft, sobbing 
 kind of laugh, very weird and exultant, as he thrust 
 downward with all his ebbing strength. The point 
 of his sword ripped a hole in my coat, and passed 
 over my hip like a tongue of fire, leaving a sharp, 
 burning pain ; and stifling a cry, I caught at his 
 foot and tripped him up, so that he fell across the 
 
8o FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 bed, calling again for Aurelie and the Marquis. His 
 voice rose to a shriek, and I had scarce time to 
 wriggle to the door when Mademoiselle came and 
 drummed upon it with her little hands. 
 
 I threw down my rapier and rapidly shot both 
 bolts. Satan himself could not have been more 
 cruel ; and yet I was not cold or heartless, but driven 
 by necessity to keep Aurelie out while I collected 
 my wits. I crept once more to the bed, found 
 the candle, and kindling a flame with trembling 
 fingers, bent over the Chevalier and looked upon 
 his face. It was stamped by the hand of death, and 
 I stepped back, shaken and amazed. The lips were 
 parted, the teeth wore a grin of hate dreadful in its 
 intensity, and the eyes were indescribable. Only a 
 man dying with a soul insatiate for vengeance could 
 look as M. le Chevalier de Cheverny looked at me ; 
 and Avhen I retreated to the door and set my back 
 against it, regardless of Mademoiselle's cries, I 
 wished to heaven I had never lighted the candle. I 
 shuddered to watch him, and yet I could not tear 
 my gaze away from that shrunken, evil face, stream- 
 ing with the death-sweat ; nor from those eyes — 
 now bright, now dim, but always full of an inex- 
 tinguishable loathing — which followed my every 
 movement. 
 
 And all this time Mademoiselle was screamins" 
 
MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 8i 
 
 " mon p^re ! mon pere ! " and beating the door with 
 her hands until I daresay they bled. One or two 
 maids, attracted by the noise, were approaching, 
 and I thanked God M. le Marquis had gone down 
 to Cheverny on an errand for Aurelie. If the Che- 
 valier would only die quickly ! I caught myself 
 praying that he might, and with good reason, for 
 my plot and my hopes of Madame la Duchesse were 
 doomed if he had breath enough to reveal my per- 
 fidy to those at Cheverny. Nay, there was no help 
 for it, — I could do nothing else but keep them out 
 until his last gasp. 
 
 Presently he revived a little, and although he lay 
 flat on his back across the bed in the yellow night 
 robe, with his white hair shining like silver, he man- 
 aged to raise his head and shriek again for Aurelie 
 once, twice, thrice, — and her cries of passion and 
 entreaty were enough to move the pity of the devil 
 or make the angels weep. 
 
 "Silvain, are you within?" she screamed. ''Oh, 
 open the door ! open the door ! Mon Dieu, my 
 father is dying ! Give me entrance, Silvain, for 
 Christ's sake ! Oh, you devil ! you devil ! " 
 
 "Aurelie!" 
 
 It was M. le Chevalier's last call. Back dropped 
 
 his head, and leaving my post I ran forward and 
 
 peered down into his face. 
 6 
 
82 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! " I murmured ; *' he is dead. Thank 
 God, he is dead ! " 
 
 At that very moment his eyes unclosed, his fingers 
 caught at my shoulders in a death-grip which I could 
 neither shake off nor loosen, and dragging me closer 
 and closer until my lips nearly touched his own, he 
 spat a clot of blood in my face ! And then some- 
 thing like a ghastly smile crept around his mouth ; 
 he shivered once or twice, tried to spit at me again, 
 and died with his stiff fingers plunged in the soft 
 velvet of my sleeves. Tearing m5^self free from his 
 embrace, I swung about, and, picking uf my sword, 
 stood listening in the manner of a wolf at bay. 
 
 Men were battering on the door, and amid their 
 rough chorus I could plainly hear the low, bitter 
 sobbing of Mademoiselle Aurelie. Then M. le 
 Marquis de Merivale's voice sounded in the corridor, 
 and she gave a cry, very sudden and loud. 
 
 " My father is dead ! Silvain has killed him ! " she 
 moaned. '' Oh, M. le Marquis, M. le Marquis ! " 
 
 He swore as only Englishmen can swear, and 
 launched his light body against the door with such 
 fury that one bolt burst from the socket, startling 
 me to swift action. 
 
 I gazed around. A secretaire stood in one cor- 
 ner of the chamber, and v/renching open the draw- 
 ers, I found amid a litter of papers a small packet, 
 
MONSIEUR IS A DEVIL 83 
 
 marked '' Correspondence with Cardinal Alberoni," 
 and a mad, wicked thrill ran through and through 
 me. Ah ! luck was mine, Madame la Duchesse was 
 mine, and now all my dreams of power and passion 
 were on the very brink of realisation. I could go 
 back to M. le Due d'Orleans, and say : " Monsei- 
 gneur, I have brought you what you thirsted for," 
 and claim my reward. I could go to the Duchesse, 
 and say : ** Madame, I have kept my oath : will you 
 make me the proudest man in France, by redeeming 
 your promise ? " — and afterwards Avould follow fame, 
 greatness, and a life of pleasure. 
 
 A life of pleasure ! My eyes wandered back to 
 M. le Chevalier, lying so still, and white, and awful, 
 on the bed. What had his life been ? That of a 
 roue, a scheming diplomatist, a debauchee steeped 
 in vice and corruption. And yet a woman loved 
 him ! A thousand wondering thoughts passed like 
 lightning through my brain, and for an instant I 
 stood irresolute, the letters in my hand ; then the 
 door almost burst from its hinges, and, running 
 softly across the chamber, I flung aside the curtains, 
 opened the window, and slipped out upon the ledge, 
 closing the lattice again with extreme gentleness. 
 And the ghost of the Chevalier seemed to be follow- 
 ing me all the time, tiying to spit clots of blood 
 into my face. At the risk of breaking my limbs I 
 
84 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 dropped to the terrace, and escaped with nothing 
 worse than a slight sprain, though my hip, where 
 M. le Chevalier's rapier had torn the flesh, burned 
 like fire, and a momentary stab of agony forced me 
 to lean against the marble balustrade. 
 
 A brilliant radiance of silver moonlight flooded 
 the terrace and the trim parterre, and the golden 
 tracery of the little berceaux danced and sparkled 
 in the strong stream of crimson illumination which 
 poured from the windows of the grand salon out 
 into the night. What a mockery it seemed ! And 
 above, in M. le Chevalier's chamber, they were 
 kindling candles, and, although it may have been 
 fancy, I could have svv'orn I heard Mademoiselle 
 Aurelie's voice crying, "Oh, you devil! you 
 devil ! " 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 M. LE MARQUIS IS FOILED 
 
 " Come, my dear de Championnet, en avant ! " I 
 said to myself. " There is no time to waste " ; and 
 I painfully made for the stables. The courtyard 
 was deserted, and I could imagine the grooms and 
 boys staring into the Chevalier's room with white, 
 fascinated faces, and Mademoiselle Aurelie swoon- 
 ing in the arms of M. le Marquis. 
 
 *' A pretty picture," I muttered. '* Well, here's 
 for Paris and love ! Where are the lanthorns? " 
 
 I found one just without the entrance to a long 
 building in which M. le Due's mare was stalled, and 
 a dozen other horses ; and before saddling her, I 
 took a quick glance at the packet in my hand. It 
 was loosely tied by a strip of black silk, and caution 
 urged me to break this with my fingers ; and I con- 
 fess I nearly cursed my heart out to discover that, 
 instead of a priceless bundle of letters written by 
 Cardinal Alberoni, the cover contained nothing but 
 a few thick wrappings of naked parchment, which 
 
 85 
 
86 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 had evidently been wound around something of 
 value to protect it from wet, or the wear and tear 
 of travel. For the moment mad disappointment 
 and frantic chagrin made me grind my teeth and 
 stamp until the stable rang : then my old indomi- 
 table strength of will re-asserted itself once more, 
 and I swore that naught on earth should conquer 
 my desires, whatever they might be. 
 
 Thrusting the packet of rubbish into my pocket, 
 I returned to the terrace and entered the salon. M. 
 le Marquis was there, lounging on a couch, with a 
 face of iron ; Mademoiselle also was there, sitting 
 by a table, with her head resting upon her white 
 arms, weeping bitterly ; and I stood near the 
 hearth, gazing at each in turn. The Marquis rose, 
 and I thought he had a mind to depart ; but instead, 
 he quietly tugged out his rapier and approached 
 me in a cool, relentless fashion that took me entirely 
 by surprise, and I wondered what the plague he 
 intended to do. 
 
 *' I am going to kill you. Monsieur ! " he an- 
 nounced, and Aurelie looked up with red, blazing 
 eyes, and gave a sharp, rapturous laugh which 
 turned me cold. 
 
 The raw, deliberate hate in that laugh unutter- 
 ably astonished me, and I pray God no gentleman 
 of fortune may ever cringe before such a gaze of 
 
M. LE MARQUIS IS FOILED 87 
 
 loathing as Mademoiselle poured into my eyes. 
 Almost unconscious of my act, I drew my sword, 
 and waited on M. le Marquis like a man in a dream ; 
 but my point was lowered, and he would take no 
 advantage, though I certainly deserved a dog's 
 death. 
 
 " On guard, Monsieur de Cheverny ! " he said. 
 " I would let an assassin fight for his life ! " 
 
 I flung do\vn my rapier, and folded my arms. 
 
 " I am not an assassin, M. le Marquis, but a man 
 who has no fear to die," I replied, and he looked at 
 me in some amazement, with his blade on the 
 quiver ; while Mademoiselle Aurelie, both hands 
 pressed to her bosom, rose erect, and stood motion- 
 less, extraordinarily pretty and magnificent. 
 
 ** You will not fight me ? " exclaimed the Mar- 
 quis. 
 
 " Wh}^ should I ? " I answered. 
 
 " You killed M. le Chevalier ! " he cried. 
 
 '' You lie, Monsieur ! " I said. 
 
 " No man on earth shall give me the lie ! " he 
 replied. 
 
 " I have done so," I murmured. 
 
 "And shall pay for it." 
 
 " When you please," I said. " It is a matter 
 entirely between ourselves. But I repeat that the 
 Chevalier did not die at my hands, M. le Marquis." 
 
88 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 *' I do not believe you I " cried Aurelie, flashing 
 round upon me like a stream of light. '' You bolted 
 the door of his chamber — you forced a quarrel, and 
 you killed him ! " 
 
 I laughed softly. 
 
 " Prove it, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " I want no further proof than your natural ras- 
 cality ! " she answered. " What are you but a 
 villain and a murderer? What else have you been 
 these ten years past?" 
 
 " I was once a gentleman, Mademoiselle Au- 
 relie ! " 
 
 " You surprise me," she returned, with a bitter- 
 ness which caused my anger to flame. How this 
 woman hated me ! 
 
 " I visited M. le Chevalier, my uncle, at his own 
 request," I said. "You cannot deny that. Made- 
 moiselle." 
 
 Her voice was silent, but one little foot beat a 
 ratthng tune on the floor. 
 
 '' And he confided to me a secret," I continued. 
 " If M. le Marquis de Merivale would be so courte- 
 ous as to leave us alone, I might explain to you, 
 Mademoiselle, all that occurred." 
 
 " M. le Marquis shall stay," she replied, with de- 
 cision. 
 
 " Mademoiselle need have no fear of me," I said. 
 
M. LE MARQUIS IS FOILED 89 
 
 A quick curl of her red lip was my only answer, 
 and, by my soul, it was enough. 
 
 ** Very well," I resumed, *' M. le Chevalier's death 
 must remain a mystery. Come, be just, be reason- 
 able, be strong, and hear me dispassionately. Made- 
 moiselle." 
 
 For awhile she hesitated, glancing sometimes at the 
 Marquis, sometimes at me, and I met her eyes with 
 a true, steady gaze which seemed to foil her distrust. 
 
 "As you will," she replied, and, slapping his rapier 
 home to the sheath, M. le Marquis quietly moved 
 towards the door. He turned his head once, that 
 was all, but there was a threat in his look which I 
 quite understood, and I favoured him with a serene 
 smile. He bowed, the door closed, and Aurelie 
 waited for me to break the long silence. 
 
 She was very calm and pale, and her gown of 
 daffodil silk had a sheen as of gold in the candle- 
 light, and a little stray tangle of hair fell over her left 
 temple, giving her face a piquant and indescribable 
 charm. Her fine eyes shone with great brilliance, 
 and I began to compare them with those of Madame 
 la Duchesse, coming at last to the decision that 
 Mademoiselle's were both sweeter and purer than 
 Madame's, now the devil of passion had flown. 
 
 " Well, Monsieur ? " she said, and I started, quite 
 perceptibly. 
 
90 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 '* You will reserve your judgment until the end ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 '' Go on, Monsieur," she replied. " I am waiting 
 to hear how you killed my father." 
 
 The tears sprang again to her eyes, and I could 
 not help wondering how strange a thing it was that 
 she should have borne such a love towards M. le 
 Chevalier ; but I once heard the Cardinal de Polignac 
 remark with a great deal of gravity that he thought 
 women must have been a perplexity to God ever 
 since the Creation. 
 
 *' If you wait to hear how I killed your father, 
 you may wait till Judgment Day, Mademoiselle ! " 
 I said, " and then you will find that he did not die 
 at my hands." 
 
 " At your sword-point, then ! " she cried. 
 
 " Have you found a scratch on his body ? " I re- 
 turned. 
 
 '' A pistol and rapier lay upon the floor," she an^ 
 swered. 
 
 " And whose were they. Mademoiselle," I de- 
 manded, — " whose but M. le Chevalier's ? He tried 
 to take my life — yes, you may look scornful, you 
 may grind your pretty teeth, but you cannot get 
 away from the truth. I admit that we quarrelled, 
 though the fault was not mine." 
 
 " Why did you quarrel ? " she asked. 
 
M. LE MARQUIS IS FOILED 91 
 
 " M. le Chevalier wanted me to join him in a plot 
 against the Regent — that was why, Mademoiselle," 
 I replied. ** He urged me to kill M. le Due by 
 stealth." 
 
 I hoped to see her start, but she stayed cool and 
 calm as a beautiful pillar of snow, with a mocking 
 smile on her lips. 
 
 " And you declined ? " she returned, in exquisite 
 surprise. " I should have thought another murder 
 would have been honey to Monsieur Silvain de 
 Cheverny ! " 
 
 " You drive me mad ! " I cried. " My God, Ma- 
 demoiselle, if only you were a man ! " 
 
 •' If I were a man, Monsieur," she said, — " if I 
 were a man, I would take you by the throat and 
 choke you from the chateau ! " 
 
 I laughed aloud, full of admiration for her superb 
 spirit, and she began again to stamp her foot upon 
 the floor. 
 
 *' Come, Mademoiselle, we waste time," I replied. 
 " Permit me to repeat that M. le Chevalier, after I 
 refused to join his plot against M. le Due d'Orleans, 
 attacked me with a pistol, which missed fire, and 
 then with a sword. See, there is blood on my 
 clothes ; and, rather than fight him, I escaped by 
 the window. You may call me a coward if you like ; 
 but I had no mind to run my rapier through an old 
 
92 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 man, and when I was gone, passion must have 
 stretched him dead. Remember that he was weak 
 and ill." 
 
 " Is this all you have to say ? " she answered. 
 
 " All, Mademoiselle ! " I returned. " Is it not 
 sufficient to make me appear cleaner in your eyes ? " 
 
 " No, Monsieur, it is not enough ! Whether your 
 explanation is truth or a He, God alone will judge. 
 My opinion of you remains the same." 
 
 " And you still hate me ? " I murmured. 
 
 " I have always done that," she replied. " Mon- 
 sieur, now my father is dead, this chateau is no place 
 for me, and I shall take the earliest opportunity of 
 leaving Cheverny when the notary has arranged for 
 your occupation and enjoyment of the dwelling and 
 demesne. I would go at once, willingly, under the 
 care of M. le Marquis de Merivale, were it not that 
 he above claims my ministrations." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I beg you will remain at Che- 
 verny I " I cried. 
 
 '' Remain at Cheverny— with you ? " she said, hot 
 scorn in her voice. 
 
 *' Nay ! " I replied. '' My business here need only 
 last a few days ; and then. Mademoiselle, I promise 
 on my sacred word of honour to leave you unmo- 
 lested—mistress of Cheverny. Can I say more ? 
 Think it over, and give me your answer to-morrow. 
 
M. LE MARQUIS IS FOILED 93 
 
 This has been your home all your life ; let it con- 
 tinue so. I have no wish to spend an hour a month 
 here. My heart is in Paris ; and if ever I find it 
 necessary to return occasionally to the chateau, I 
 will be careful, Mademoiselle, to avoid thrusting my 
 unwelcome presence upon you. I shall soon — shall 
 
 soon — be gone " 
 
 I felt a sudden faintness stealing o'er my body, 
 and then came a great stab of pain ; but I caught 
 at the high mantel and swung back against the wall, 
 fighting the agony. Aurelie stood gazing upon me, 
 floods of wonder pouring from her eyes ; and as I 
 lost my hold and swayed to and fro, I swear that 
 she almost involuntarily took a swift step towards 
 my aid. I staggered once more with a tipsy, spin- 
 ning reel, gave a savage laugh at my powerlessness, 
 and sank slowly down, Mademoiselle bending over 
 me. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE INCONSISTENCIES OF WOMAN 
 
 It was nigh midnight when my wits returned, and 
 I found myself drowsing in my chamber. A woman 
 was near — I could hear the soft rustle of her gown 
 — and looking up, I beheld Aurelie standing by the 
 lattice. She was dressed in black ; and presently, 
 thinking I still slept, she moved across the room on 
 tiptoe, and I saw that a little cluster of winter roses 
 nestled in her white bosom. Heavens ! what a 
 superb presence was hers — so full of grace and im- 
 measurable charm ! — and what a divine face ! A 
 delicate strength shone in every feature, and there 
 was a glow in her eyes which I had never seen 
 before — very sweet and subdued, like a lanthorn 
 shining through the snows. 
 
 After busying her lithe fingers awhile among 
 
 some small phials, she approached the bed, and I 
 
 immediately pretended to be wrapped in slumber. 
 
 She lowered her face until I felt her light breath 
 
 upon my cheek, and for a long time she seemed to 
 94 
 
THE INCONSISTENCIES OF WOMAN 95 
 
 be listening to the beating of nny heart. Her head ' 
 was close to my breast — her russet-gold hair was 
 touching me. It is hard to win a woman's love — 
 easy to gain her sympathy, and as I lay there, 
 passive, I could not help thinking what a scene 
 would occur if Madame la Duchesse de Berri en- 
 tered. Of a sudden I stirred a little, and opened 
 my eyes, and in an instant Mademoiselle Aurelie 
 drew back as though stung. Two candles burned 
 in the chamber, and, taking one of them in her hand, 
 she held it so that the glow might fall upon my 
 face, and a slight flush, perhaps of fear, crept into 
 her pale cheek as I rose on my arm and looked at 
 her. The great clock of the chateau struck twelve, 
 and then the silence was intense. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," I said at last, — " Mademoiselle 
 de Cheverny ! " 
 
 "Yes," she replied, with very soft distinctness. 
 " What do you want ? " 
 
 " To thank you for being an angel," I murmured. 
 
 " I am only a woman," she answered. "You are 
 better, Monsieur, and I will go and ask M. le Mar- 
 quis de Merivale to watch by your side until day- 
 break." 
 
 " Nay, nay ; I will not have him here," I said. 
 " Monsieur has no love for me, and I have none for 
 him. We should quarrel before the night had 
 
96 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 passed. Did you intend staying till dawn in my 
 chamber, Mademoiselle,— you, with your grief and 
 your weariness ? " 
 
 " Yes," she admitted, and her voice was lower 
 than ever. 
 
 ^'Why?" I asked. 
 
 " You have been our guest," she said, " and I 
 thought that perhaps I might — have — wronged you 
 a little, — I thought, after all, you might have spoken 
 the truth, and that my father did wound you with 
 his sword. And if I hated you, I could not let you 
 die." 
 
 " Die, Mademoiselle ! " I exclaimed. " The hurt 
 is nothing. I have lost some hot blood and am 
 weakened, but in a few days I hope to be able to 
 leave you in peace at Cheverny." 
 
 She was silent awhile. Then she said, almost in 
 a whisper : 
 
 " I pray God you may." 
 
 Her words tore my heart, and I began to wonder 
 what had come to me. Mademoiselle Aurelie, and 
 not Madame la Duchesse, seemed to hold the 
 power of making me blithe or sad — of creating my 
 Heaven and my Hell ; and the longer I gazed at 
 her supple, girlish form, and let my eyes dwell on 
 the pure loveliness of her face, the more her pres- 
 ence entranced me. 
 
THE INCONSISTENCIES OF WOMAN 97 
 
 It was a witching hour, too, this of the midnight, 
 and lent a subtle glamour to my dreamy reflections 
 on what my life might have been had such a woman 
 as Aurelie crept into it ten long years ago, before 
 the passion for the dice, and the duel, and the gay 
 world laid hold of my soul and dragged it low in 
 the mire. 
 
 Well, well ! all of us men have our little fling and 
 pay for it, and there is no sin on earth or sea which 
 can be bought save through a price, — all women, 
 too, must have their little romance, and Madame 
 la Duchesse was scarcely one to take her hand out 
 of the fire, if it gave her pleasure to keep it there. 
 Did she really love me, or were her professions of 
 affection, and her promises, and her caresses, only a 
 part of an intrigue between the Regent, M. I'Abbe 
 Dubois, and herself — a temptation to lure me to the 
 oath I had taken that I might save them all from 
 the possible humiliation of quarters in the Bastille, 
 by wrecking this plot of the Duchesse du Maine, 
 the Cardinal Alberoni, and the Chevalier de Che- 
 verny, which, had it ripened and succeeded, would 
 have most certainly dealt a death-blow to the 
 Regency and the gaieties and follies M. le Due and 
 his daughter were said to love ? 
 
 For the first time I began to feel suspicious of 
 the Duchesse, and for the second time I began 
 7 
 
98 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 to compare her unfavourably with Mademoiselle. 
 These stories of Madame — there might, after all, be 
 some truth in them, and I had been so long an alien 
 that my three days' stay in Paris scarcely gave me 
 an opportunity of gleaning every shred of scandal 
 which buzzed in the air ; and then, Heaven knows, 
 I was never cursed by being born a gossip. But if 
 Madame la Duchesse had played me false ? I 
 shook with rage at the thought, and I think Aurelie 
 imagined me delirious, for she brought a cooling 
 draught, and was surprised to see me take it from 
 her fingers with quite a brave show of my old swift 
 energy. 
 
 " You are certainly much better, Monsieur," she 
 said, " and I shall now leave you." 
 
 " One moment, Mademoiselle," I urged, stretch- 
 ing out my hand ; " M. le Chevalier, my uncle, pos- 
 sessed some letters from the Cardinal Alberoni and 
 Madame la Duchesse du Maine concerning the 
 intrigue in which he intended to play so prominent 
 a part. They must not be left here." 
 
 "And why not?" she asked, standing by the 
 door with a restless bosom and blazing eyes. " I, 
 too, am implicated. Monsieur: Madame la Duchesse 
 du Maine is my very dear friend, and if anyone is 
 faithful enough to hold the key to so great a con- 
 spiracy it is Aurelie de Cheverny. I hate the 
 
THE INCONSISTENCIES OF WOMAN 99 
 
 Regent, I loathe Madame de Berri, and I have 
 nothing but a curse for M. I'Abbe Dubois ! They 
 are ruining France ! " 
 
 Her foot was playing its old quick tune on the 
 floor, and her pose was magnificent. Sang Dieu ! 
 she was a girl of a million. 
 
 " You are too passionate, Mademoiselle," I re- 
 turned — '' glorious, but too full of fire ; and if you 
 will hearken to me, and trust me, I think I can show 
 you how to deal with the letters." 
 
 " I am listening, Monsieur," she said. 
 
 " Why not send them to M. le Cardinal ? " I con- 
 tinued. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " No, they are too precious. Madame la Du- 
 chesse du Maine has written me more than once 
 with regard to the possibility of my father's death." 
 
 *' What did Madame advise?" I inquired. 
 
 " Why should I tell you ? " she asked. 
 
 " M. le Chevalier trusted me," I returned, and her 
 eyes softened. 
 
 " That in case of emergency they should be sent 
 to the Cardinal," she said, without hesitation. 
 
 " Exactly," I replied. " Her suggestion is mine. 
 To whom did she contemplate entrusting the let- 
 ters?" 
 
 " To a gentleman who is now dead," Mademoi- 
 
loo FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 selle answered. " He was once a friend of hers, but 
 had become a gamester and a soldier of fortune. 
 The other day, however, she heard of his return to 
 Paris from Italy, and wrote me saying she hoped to 
 arrange an interview, and admit him to the com- 
 spiracy." 
 
 " How did she know he w^ould join ? " I asked. 
 
 " Heaven knows," she replied. '' Madame du 
 Maine can do anything with a man." 
 
 " She is certainly a clever little woman," I said. 
 " Well, and what then. Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 Her tears came again, very fast and bright. 
 
 " If anything should happen to my father, this 
 gentleman would hold the threads of the whole in- 
 trigue. He was an accomplished duellist, gifted in 
 diplomacy, extremely faithful in friendship and the 
 most dashing adventurer in all France ! That was 
 Madame's opinion of him." 
 
 " Extraordinarily well summed up," I commented. 
 " And what was his name ? " 
 
 " M. le Vicomte de Championnet." 
 
 ** The Vicomte de Championnet ? " 
 
 I gasped for breath like a dying man, and how in 
 the name of the devil I smothered my astonishment 
 I cannot tell, but give you my word that Mademoi- 
 selle suspected nothing — so excellent an actor had I 
 become. 
 
THE INCONSISTENCIES OF WOMAN loi 
 
 " Then M. le Vicomte is dead ? " I exclaimed. 
 
 *' Yes, Monsieur," she replied, " he is dead. He 
 was killed in a duel near Pontigny by some unknown 
 person, and Madame du Maine has lost a great hope, 
 and one who might have been an incomparable friend 
 to our cause." 
 
 '* But if de Championnet was so fine a duellist how 
 came he to fall, Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " You ask a riddle," she replied. '' God may be 
 able to answer it, but none else. He was run 
 through the neck." 
 
 " His opponent must have been the neatest rascal 
 with a rapier in Europe, and I should like to meet 
 him." 
 
 ''You ! " she said, and there was such contempt 
 in her voice that the blood raced in my body. This 
 girl was enough to madden the saints ! 
 
 '' Yes, I, Cousin Aurelie ! " I answered, in a sibilant 
 tone which roused her to unutterable fury. 
 
 " You presume too much. Monsieur ; you are in- 
 sufferably familiar ! " she cried. 
 
 " I shall be as familiar as I please. Mademoiselle," 
 I replied, my temper getting the better of my cour- 
 tesy. " The de Cheverny blood runs in my veins as 
 well as yours." 
 
 ''Yes, that is the devil of it all ! " she stormed — 
 *' that you — so low, so base, so savouring of the ca- 
 
I02 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 naille — should bear my name. Oh, how can God let 
 such a scoundrel breathe ! " 
 
 " ril bring you to my feet ! " I said, throwing 
 the clothes from my breast, and leaning forward to 
 glare at her. 
 
 For a moment she stood rigid — her eyes dilating 
 and flaming — her bosom tossing like the sea ; then 
 stooping a little, she suddenly flung her right hand 
 at my mouth, fetching a tiny stream of blood from 
 my lips. I wrenched my body about in a fit wild 
 rage, but the pain of my wound caught me again 
 and held me powerless, so that I sank back once 
 more and lay still. 
 
 The chateau was very silent, but the wind snored 
 as it drowsed among the trees, and the occasional 
 baying of a hound came like the sound of a deep, 
 sonorous bell through the cold night. The lattice 
 was uncurtained, and I could see the bright stars 
 winking in the clear heavens, and a stray moonbeam 
 crept into the chamber to war with the red candle- 
 glow. Then something seemed to fall, and I glanced 
 up to find Mademoiselle Aurelie lying upon her face 
 on the floor. At first I thought she had fainted, 
 but when the room echoed with her low sobs, I 
 began to wonder afresh at the inconsistencies of 
 woman ; but I durst not break the silence. Nay, 
 even in my passion, I v;as wise, and stayed as one 
 
THE INCONSISTENCIES OF WOMAN 103 
 
 dead until she slowly arose and came creeping on her 
 knees towards my bed, her little wet handkerchief 
 in her hand. She never spoke ; but although I kept 
 my eyes closed to her, I could feel that she was 
 wiping the blood from my lips, and when an instant 
 later the light tapping of her heels, and the opening 
 and shutting of the door, told me she had gone, I 
 found the cluster of winter roses from her warm 
 bosom scattered on my breast. 
 
 The night wore through, but I saw her no more, 
 and dawn brought to my side a lady named Madame 
 Rochette, who nursed me well during the succeed- 
 ing week, and when one day I dressed and tottered 
 out upon the terrace, lo ! there was M. le Comte 
 d'Anquital, and I cursed the very sight of him. 
 What could he be doing at Cheverny? M. le Che- 
 valier lay deep in his grave : Aurelie, yielding to 
 the persuasions of M. le Marquis, had accompanied 
 him in a ride to the village, and I was left alone to 
 do the honours of the chateau. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE cardinal's LETTERS 
 
 M. LE COMTE surveyed me with an extremely- 
 subtle smile, and, crossing his feet, lounged against 
 the balustrade — a lithe, fair man, very fascinating 
 among women, but the wickedest rascal on God's 
 earth ; and his manner was so jauntily insolent that 
 I knew in a moment he bore a commission from 
 Dubois or the Regent. I am naturally as shrewd as 
 the devil, and suspicion leapt into my heart like a 
 weasel into a pheasant's nest. 
 
 " Good-morning, Monsieur ! " I cried, recover- 
 ing a little of my old swash-buckling swagger, — a 
 swagger that I generally assumed while dealing 
 with men like d'Anquital. '' To whom am I in- 
 debted for the honour of this visit ? " 
 
 He began to laugh and beat a merry tune on his 
 boot with his riding-switch. 
 
 " I am the Comte d'Anquital, at your service, 
 
 Monsieur ! " he cried. " Am I addressing M. de 
 
 Cheverny ? " 
 104 
 
THE CARDINAL'S LETTERS 105 
 
 '' M. Silvain de Cheverny ! " I corrected. " My 
 uncle, M. le Chevalier, was buried four days ago." 
 
 '' And you are in possession of Cheverny ? " 
 
 " Exactly ! " I returned, damning his inquisitive 
 impudence. A quick fear silenced further words. 
 D'Anquital might have recognised me : but no, my 
 disguise was too perfect. 
 
 '' I am come here at the instance of Monseigneur 
 the Regent of France, to prepare you for a little 
 surprise," chimed M. le Comte. 
 
 *' Indeed ! " I said. '' Enlighten me, Monsieur? " 
 
 " Monseigneur is about to pay a visit to Che- 
 verny," he replied, and as I live, I saw the rogue's 
 face flame into a blazing smile of unutterable satis- 
 faction when my eyes widened, though I swear I 
 never so much as shifted a muscle or rufifled an 
 eyebrow. 
 
 " I shall be more than honoured, Monsieur. 
 Does he travel alone? " 
 
 '* M I'Abbe Dubois will accompany him ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " I remarked. 
 
 "And Madame la Duchesse de Berri." 
 
 *' Ah ! " I cooed, with a tightness over my 
 heart. 
 
 " Yes, they are all coming incognito." 
 
 ** 'Tis remarkably kind of them," I replied. '^ A 
 glass of Rousillon, Monsieur, or a cup of Burgundy ? 
 
io6 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 Your long ride must have tired you. Where is 
 your horse? At the stables? That is well, and I 
 am glad you are making yourself at home. Is your 
 stay likely to be long ? " 
 
 ''As long as M. le Due pleases," he said ; and I 
 took a short, limping strut along the terrace, think- 
 ing hard. 
 
 '* You are lame. Monsieur," exclaimed d'Anquital. 
 
 " A kick of my horse," I returned. 
 
 " The world is productive of hard kicks," he com- 
 mented, smiling again. " We must get used to 
 them, M. de Cheverny." 
 
 "Yes, and to fortune's sword-thrusts," I mur- 
 mured. " One can never tell when the next may 
 come. To be a philosopher, Monsieur — that is the 
 thing! Ah, here is Mademoiselle Aurelie — my 
 cousin, M. le Comte." 
 
 He swept around, and watching him well, I saw 
 an amorous light dance to his eyes at the first sight 
 of her, and I swear she looked glorious enough to 
 turn any man's head. She wore her white and 
 silver riding-dress, and a little red hat was cocked 
 daintily on her short, tossing locks, 'mid which the 
 winter sun sought for threads of gold and found 
 them plentiful : her cheeks were crimsoned by the 
 keen north wind, and there was something in her 
 eyes that tugged at my soul until all that was best 
 
THE CARDINAL'S LETTERS 107 
 
 and purest in me fought 'gainst the vows I had 
 made to Madame la Duchesse de Berri. 
 
 " Sang bleu ! and who is her companion? " asked 
 d'Anquital. 
 
 '' M. le Marquis de Merivale," I replied. 
 
 " The Englishman ! What does he do here ? " 
 
 " Are you acquainted with him, Monsieur ? " 
 
 '' To my cost ! " he said, in a snarl. " M. le Mar- 
 quis won a thousand gold louis from me in Paris 
 two months ago." 
 
 " How, Monsieur?" 
 
 " Cocks," he replied ; and I laughed softly. 
 
 "You have now your chance of revenge," I said. 
 '' M. le Marquis is always ready to lay a wager, and 
 I believe he is a very fine swordsman." 
 
 "The best in all Europe," returned d'Anquital. 
 
 " One has only to look at him to see that he can 
 fence," I reflected. " But here he comes. Permit 
 me to present him again to you, M. le Comte." 
 
 " He will remember me," said d'Anquital ; and at 
 that moment Aurelie dismounted and came upon 
 the terrace, leaving the Marquis to call for the 
 grooms. I faced her with my usual sangfroid, and 
 although Mademoiselle's bright eyes met mine very 
 straightly, I did not flinch from her clear gaze. 
 
 " You are recovered, Monsieur," she remarked, 
 " and I am glad to find you so well able to walk." 
 
io8 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 Her words were like balm poured into a raw 
 wound, and I could have blessed her for them. 
 
 *' Mademoiselle is more than kind," I said. And 
 I give you my oath I felt the hot tears leap to my 
 eyes. She saw them. Her face flushed like a swift 
 glow of warm sunset over a snowy cloud, and she 
 turned her pretty head aside to steal a glance at 
 d'Anquital, who stood smiling and ogling her in the 
 fashion of the insufferable Paris beau. Sacre ! I felt 
 it hard to keep my fingers from his throat ; and 
 when the rascal made a swinging bow, clapped his 
 hand to his breast, and presented himself as " M. le 
 Comte d'Anquital, honoured by the friendship of M. 
 le Due d'Orleans, by whom he was sent to Cheverny," 
 Mademoiselle's face was something to see. 
 
 "And what does M. le Comte desire ?" she asked. 
 
 " Naught but the constant sunshine of your 
 smiles, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Alas ! there is no sunshine at Cheverny," she 
 rephed. " Monsieur, am I right in imagining you 
 have brought me a message from Paris ? " 
 
 '' Mademoiselle," said d'Anquital, " I am here by 
 command of Monseigneur the Regent of France." 
 
 "And why ?" she cried. "To request my pres- 
 ence at the Palais-Royal ? " 
 
 M. le Comte leered. 
 
 " Not yet, Mademoiselle," 
 
THE CARDINAL'S LETTERS 109 
 
 ** To spy upon me, then ! You have a tell-tale 
 face, Monsieur ; and, to be perfectly frank, you do 
 not seem to be here on the errand of a gentleman." 
 
 M. le Comte breathed a curse, and Mademoiselle 
 surpassed herself with a delightful little laugh of 
 disdain and a tigerish swing of her body which 
 brought her back to the view of d'Anquital, and his 
 face was a picture that hangs in my memory to this 
 day. I knew the fellow was a scoundrel, but I freely 
 confess that I was startled to see how he showed his 
 teeth at Mademoiselle's contempt. 
 
 " Here," I said to myself, *' is a villain who will 
 need a close watch," and I could feel my strength 
 flooding back to my limbs, while I thirstily regarded 
 him with a sharp desire to face his rapier in a last 
 bout sometime at night, in a place of romance where 
 I might leave him picturesquely stretched upon his 
 back — the glare of a white moon strong on his rigid 
 body and wide-throv/n arms. It was a strange im- 
 agining : this dream of the killing of a man ; but 
 there was a wicked smile round M.le Comte's mouth 
 that roused all the passion in my nature and made 
 my heart cry out for his blood. 
 
 " It seems Mademoiselle de Cheverny is still mis- 
 tress of the chateau ! " purred d'Anquital, after a 
 long pause. ''And yet a few minutes ago Monsieur 
 Silvain confessed himself its master." 
 
no FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Take your commands from Mademoiselle, M. le 
 Comte," I replied. " Her will is mine." 
 
 " Indeed ! " he exclaimed, with a swift elevation 
 of his eyebrows. " May I present my most delicate 
 congratulations to you both ? A charming choice, 
 Monsieur : Mademoiselle, an excellent alliance ! 
 When is the wedding to be ? " 
 
 She gave a low cry ; and if looks could kill, the 
 flash of her eyes would have laid M. le Comte at her 
 feet when she swept around and lashed him with 
 her inimitable scorn. 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! " she cried. '' What rats exist, call- 
 ing themselves men ! And it seems the coarsest 
 come from the gutters of the Palais-Royal. Mon- 
 sieur mon cousin, take this gentleman and throw 
 him from the terrace, or, still better, let the dogs 
 chase him out of your sight ! " 
 
 I was amazed — stunned — petrified, and yet my 
 heart leapt with a thousand palpitations of unspeak- 
 able joy. Mademoiselle had deigned to call me 
 cousin, she had claimed my aid in ridding her of M. 
 le Comte, and she had acknowledged me as master 
 of Cheverny. She had claimed my aid, I say, and 
 yet I could not aid her, as I longed to do, by fling- 
 ing d'Anquital down among the thorns and the 
 winter roses of the chateau parterre. No, that v/ould 
 not have been wise : it would not have been diplo-^ 
 
THE CARDINAL'S LETTERS iii 
 
 macy, and for my own sake and for Aurelie's peace 
 I refrained from drawing sword on M. le Comte, or 
 laying hands upon him. And it may be, had I done 
 so, he would have had the better of it, I being still 
 fitter for the bed-chamber than the duel. 
 
 " Chase him out of my sight ! " cried Mademoi- 
 selle, pointing her little gloved hand at d'Anquital. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," I returned, " for the moment 
 let him live, and I promise you, when the time 
 comes, the rat shall return to the Palais-Royal 
 drains." 
 
 " Coward ! " she hissed, and swept into the salon, 
 whither I followed her, leaving M. le Comte to his 
 reflections. 
 
 ** Coward ! " she cried again, and closing the doors, 
 I locked them fast, and, limping towards her, pro- 
 ceeded to tame her Amazonian spirit by the assump- 
 tion of a masterful manner that seemed to take away 
 her breath, leaving her to stare at me in utter aston- 
 ishment — her eyes big and shining, and some of 
 her pretty teeth glistening 'twixt the crimson of her 
 lips, for all the world like tiny lily-bells peeping 
 through the beauty of a damask rose. 
 
 " Mon Grand Dieu, Mademoiselle! " I said, "you 
 will drive me to extremities, and I'll have to lay my 
 riding-whip 'cross your soft flesh, if you persist in 
 being such a wilful little fool ! Yes, you stare, you 
 
112 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 stamp, you burn, but I am forced to forget that you 
 are chatelaine here, and to treat you as a father 
 might treat an incorrigible child. Could you not 
 see that this d'Anquital held power in his hands : 
 do you not recognise that the scoundrel is in the pay 
 of Monseigneur the Regent of France, and that he 
 has come to spy out the land ? M. le Due d'Orleans 
 has discovered that M. le Chevalier was waist-deep 
 in an intrigue to upset the Regency, and has sent 
 this fellow, at the first intimation of your father's 
 death, to secure any papers which may be secreted 
 here. As soon as they are found the chateau will 
 be invaded, probably by M. le Due and the villain 
 Dubois ; and Madame la Duchesse du Maine, your 
 very dear friend, w^ill find herself in a devil of a hole 
 — possibly in the Bastille, or later on the scaffold, 
 while Alberoni, the fox, will be laughed at by all the 
 world ; and the incomparable plot that M. le Che- 
 valier and his co-conspirators took such infinite pains 
 to nurse and to foster Avill be blown like a bubble 
 on the winds of the ridicule of Europe. Mark my 
 words well. Mademoiselle — think them over, and be 
 wise in time." 
 
 She was breathless, and so was I ; but, by Heaven, 
 I had fooled her into something like a childish belief 
 and confidence, not only in my loyalty to the Che- 
 valier's intrigue and my excellent diplomacy, but 
 
THE CARDINAL'S LETTERS 113 
 
 also into a silent confession that she knew at last I 
 had no other desire than to befriend her through 
 fair weather and foul. 
 
 '' When the fitting day or night comes, I will kill 
 this d'Anquital ! " I continued : " but for the present, 
 Mademoiselle, you must allow him to remain at 
 Cheverny, even as I, an unbidden guest — you must 
 bear with his insults, you must suffer his insolence, 
 and trust to me for the payment of all. And more 
 than that, you must give me your entire confidence, 
 and if I am to save you and Madame du Maine, and 
 to counterplot against this Comte d'Anquital, so 
 that his spying here may end in failure and shame — 
 why, Mademoiselle, we must, at the least, be good 
 comrades-in-arms, if not good friends." 
 
 There came a sudden silence, and then Aurelie, in 
 the most charming manner imaginable, stretched 
 out her hands with a sweetness that took my vile 
 heart by storm. 
 
 '' And why not good friends? " she cried. " Sil- 
 vain, I have wronged you, I have thought you false 
 when you were true, and that story of your killing 
 a man and a woman under the shadow of Notre 
 Dame was a lie ! " 
 
 " No," I said, " it was not a lie, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Then you had great provocation — you were 
 
 never low, and cruel, and base — you were never a 
 8 
 
TI4 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 scoundrel and a murderer as once I thought you 
 were. Christ and His Mother pity and forgive 
 me." 
 
 "And Christ and His Mother pity and forgive 
 me," I murmured. 
 
 " For what ? " she flashed out. 
 
 *' For my sins, Mademoiselle ! Think of me again 
 as the Silvain you knew in your childhood. I have 
 been low : I have been base, I have been a scoun- 
 drel, and you have only to remember my doings at 
 Cheverny ten years ago to once more bring back 
 your hate of me." 
 
 She shuddered, and tightened the grip of her 
 little strong fingers on my hands. 
 
 " But you are different now," she whispered. " I 
 cannot tell how, but you seem more of the gentil- 
 homme than the Silvain of my old memories, and 
 there's a strength in your face that wins one's 
 admiration — even against all hatred, all fear, and all 
 contempt, — and I should not be a true woman if I 
 liked not a good strong man." 
 
 Was there ever such a sublime submission ? Ma- 
 demoiselle, in an exquisite surrender, had sacrificed 
 herself once and forever on the altar of a contrition 
 to which I never dreamed she would kneel : she had 
 offered the incense of sorrow and humility for a 
 scorn which I deserved a million times over : and I, 
 
THE CARDINAL'S LETTERS 115 
 
 the liar, the hypocrite, the traitor, was playuig her 
 false as I had done so many times before with a 
 smiling face and a heart of gall. To win her confi- 
 dence — that had been my aim from the day I first 
 set foot within the chateau, and Sang Dieu ! at last 
 I had brought her to her knees, and there was some 
 hope of my mission being accomplished before the 
 arrival of M. le Due d'Orleans and Madame la 
 Duchesse de Berri. Yet, even at that moment of 
 joyless triumph, I little imagined how completely 
 Aur61ie was throwing herself upon my faith, my 
 honour, and my friendship. 
 
 " Silvain ! " she whispered, standing on tiptoe to 
 breathe the words into my ear : " you are my only 
 hope ; you must take my father's place — you must 
 hold the Cardinal's and Madame du Maine's letters. 
 Come with me, I will give them to you — come 
 now." 
 
 ** Mademoiselle!" I said, and my voice was like 
 the hoarse croak of a raven, — " Mademoiselle 
 Aurelie, I must think awhile! Let me think — for 
 God's sake let me think ! " 
 
 Great Heaven, how this girl's trust stabbed and 
 tore at my heart ! I shivered as I stood by her 
 side, feeling her warm breath on my cheek — her 
 hand in mine — her touch thrilling me through and 
 through. The game was won ! Fortune and power 
 
ii6 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 lay before me. Madame was mine, and I could 
 claim her when I pleased if only I would follow 
 Mademoiselle to some secret cupboard or secretaire 
 and take from her hands that priceless bundle of 
 conspiracy. The battle was long, and when I 
 turned my face once more towards Aurelie it must 
 have been fierce and white enough to frighten her. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," I said, in a voice no louder than 
 a whisper, '* I have thought the matter well out, and 
 the letters will be safer in my hands than in yours. 
 Show me where they are hidden." 
 
 Her eyes lighted up with a wonderful brilliance. 
 
 " You make me glad ! " she cried. '' When I 
 have given you the secret, I shall feel I have done 
 something to atone for my bitterness to you — and 
 for my shameful words, — and it may be you will be 
 able to forgive me. Come, Silvain ! " 
 
 " Lead the way, Mademoiselle," I replied, " and 
 I will follow." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE COMING OF MADAME LA DUCHESSE 
 
 It was three days later, and drawing nigh to 
 midnight, when Monseigneur the Regent, Madame 
 de Berri, and M. I'Abbe Dubois arrived at the 
 chateau. 
 
 I happened to be playing lansquenet with M. le 
 Comte and the Marquis de Merivale, judging it 
 good policy to make myself perfectly amicable 
 and courteous, seeing that one was my guest 
 by necessity, and the other had extended his 
 visit at the invitation of Mademoiselle Aurelie. 
 Our company was made complete by the pres- 
 ence of an old friend of M. le Chevalier's named 
 M. Maury de Saint-Cloud, who had called to pay 
 his consolations to Aurelie ; and when I pressed 
 him to make a night of it, he generously responded. 
 We had all, I think, been drinking deeply — I to 
 drown the wasp of remorse that had never ceased 
 to sting me from the moment I accepted the letters 
 
 at Mademoiselle's hands, and the others drank for 
 
 117 
 
ii8 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 devilry, like true gentlemen of France — when the 
 ripping sound of wheels tearing over gravel forced 
 me to move to the lattice, and I caught a glimpse 
 of M. le Due's coach sweeping round to the right of 
 the terrace. 
 
 " Mille Diables ! " I muttered. '' Another hour 
 and I shall know my fate. M. le Comte " — and 
 now my voice was clear and sharp as a pistol-shot, 
 — " M. le Due d'Orleans has come ! " 
 
 The cards fell from his fingers, and he glanced up 
 at me with a swift gleam of his teeth. 
 
 " Allons, Monsieur ! " he said ; and we swung to- 
 gether out of the room, leaving M. Maury de Saint- 
 Cloud and M. le Marquis to stare at each other in 
 amazement. 
 
 Racing hard down the broad stair, I bade a 
 lacquey throw open the doors of the great portico 
 and kindle the hundred lights of the magnificent 
 salon. I was informed that Mademoiselle, in com- 
 pany v/ith Madame Rochette, had retired for the 
 night, and I give 3^ou my word I was not sorry to 
 hear it ; and when my illustrious guests alighted I 
 was waiting to meet them with an admirable assump- 
 tion of the utmost charm and gaiety of demeanour. 
 Behind me stood M. le Comte d'Anquital ; but did I 
 care a straw for that ? Nay ; by the blood of my heart, 
 I received Madame la Duchesse de Berri as a king 
 
THE COMING OF MME. LA DUCHESSE 119 
 
 might welcome his betrothed — there was no cringing, 
 no sign of weakness, no crawHng to her feet for the 
 sake of a caressing glance — and although I have 
 played the actor in many strange tragedies, never 
 in my life did I hold myself higher than on this 
 eventful invasion of the Chateau de Cheverny. I 
 was dressed in white satin, and my vest, if I recol- 
 lect aright, was sprinkled with tracings of roses in 
 crimson and gold; so that I have no doubt my 
 appearance was such as to attract the approval of 
 Madame, and her eyes danced as they lighted 
 upon me. 
 
 " So, you see, we are come at last, M. de Che- 
 verny ! " she said, and there was a subtle ripple of 
 delicate mockery in her voice which I completely 
 understood. 
 
 " I and my chateau lie at Madame's entire dis- 
 posal," I replied, and offered my arm, making at the 
 same moment my bow to the Regent, by whom it 
 was returned with much elegance. Of M. I'Abbe 
 I took no notice whatever, but led the Duchesse 
 straight into the grand salon, and deftly whipped 
 off her furs. She smiled upon me incessantly : we 
 were alone— the intoxication of her presence might 
 have damned a seraph, and while M. le Due, Dubois, 
 and the Comte d'Anquital whispered together in the 
 corridor, I might have caught Madame swiftly to 
 
I20 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 my breast ; but no, I stayed calm, and watched the 
 passion flood into her magnificent eyes. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, Audran, how cold you are ! " she said. 
 
 " It is a cold night, Duchesse," I returned. 
 
 '' I had a thought you would at least warm my 
 lips," she whispered, and I made no answer. 
 
 '' Monsieur is very silent," she reflected, with a 
 cutting smile. " Has he found another love? " 
 
 " One woman, Madame, is enough for any man," 
 I said. 
 
 *' Then you have not forgotten me ? ** 
 
 " No one who had once seen the Duchesse de 
 Berri could forget her." 
 
 She laughed Hghtly. 
 
 '' You are a strange rogue, M. le Vicomte ! " 
 
 '' Hush, Madame," I said, closing the door. " You 
 speak too loud, and my name is now Silvain de Che- 
 verny." 
 
 '' Ah, I remember," she returned. '' But I should 
 have known you anywhere, Audran, in spite of your 
 disguise." 
 
 *' Hush ! " I implored, 
 
 '' M. le Due and the Abbe are gone up the stair, 
 and M. le Comte is following them," she said, open- 
 ing the door and glancing out. " You need not fear 
 they will interrupt us." 
 
 " Walls listen," I replied ; and then, with a sharp- 
 
THE COMING OF MME. LA DUCHESSE 121 
 
 ness that made her start : ** What is d'Anquital 
 doing here ? " 
 
 '' How should I know ? " Madame answered ; '' M. 
 le Due sent him." 
 
 " Then I will go farther, and inquire why M, le 
 Due has come, and the arch-devil Dubois, and you, 
 Duchesse ? Has M. le Comte been supplying you 
 with an account of my daily routine at Cheverny ? 
 Has he written the Regent to say I am a sluggard 
 in pursuing my quest? Ah, Madame, I see by your 
 face that my words burn you ! Could you not trust 
 me awhile ? Could you not feel secure in your 
 belief in me ? " 
 
 She turned away her head, and when I had again 
 closed the door she flashed round upon me in a 
 hurricane of fury. 
 
 " Have you the letters, Vicomte ? " she cried. 
 
 I kept a stubborn silence. She flung back her 
 head, and I do not think I ever saw any woman so 
 haughty, when she pleased, as Madame la Duchesse 
 de Berri. 
 
 '' Speak ! " she stormed. 
 
 " If they were in my possession — if I laid them 
 now in your hands, would you come to me and be 
 my wife, Madame?" 
 
 " So you think you can claim me when your 
 roguery is done," she replied. 
 
122 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 "That was the arrangement," I said. 
 
 '' But if I refuse? If I change my mind and de- 
 cide that I do not love you sufficiently to be your 
 wife — what then, Monsieur?" 
 
 " That would be the very devil," I replied. 
 
 ** Would you dare to hold the letters?" she 
 cried. 
 
 '* Against all France, Madame, if I had them." 
 
 ^* You are a bold rascal." 
 
 " As always," I acquiesced. " Lower your voice, 
 Duchesse." 
 
 " You have killed Silvain de Cheverny — you have, 
 I daresay, poisoned the Chevalier, and now I hear 
 you are making love to Mademoiselle his daughter. 
 If this is true. Monsieur, you shall rot and rot in the 
 Bastille all your life ! " 
 
 There was yellow jealousy in her voice, and I 
 could not help smiling, as her glance ran from my 
 face to my feet, and then up again, as though I were 
 something to be spat upon. I stayed silent : no 
 man, except he be a fool, wastes good breath on an 
 angry woman, and I knew enough of Madame de 
 Berri to refrain from whetting her temper on the 
 grindstone of a wordy passage of arms. 
 
 "Where is Mademoiselle?" she cried, after a 
 stream of fury had left me with my ears tingling, 
 and at last I answered her. 
 
THE COMING OF MME. LA DUCHESSE 123 
 
 " In bed, Madame, for all I know. And a very 
 good place too." 
 
 '' Insolent ! " she exclaimed. *' I will not leave 
 you until you have confessed to me that your whole 
 care is for Mademoiselle de Cheverny. You have 
 not searched for the letters — but you know where 
 they are ; they are in the hands of this girl, and you 
 intend to shield her— you mean to try and crawl 
 away in the dark from your promise to me, but you 
 shall not do so, M. le Vicomte. I will call M. le 
 Due : I will tell him of your perfidy — you have de- 
 ceived me, played me false, and by all the saints 
 you shall pay for it. Monsieur ! " And with a low 
 sobbing cry, she raced towards the door. 
 
 One bound and I had caught the skirt of her float- 
 ing dress, and it ripped with the sound of a rapier 
 flying fast from a tight scabbard, but next breath 
 I had her round the waist and swung her back into 
 the centre of the salon. 
 
 ''You hurt me!" she hissed. ''You villain! 
 You hurt me ! You make my hands bleed. Let 
 me go ! Devil!" and then, swift as a dog might 
 snap at a bone, the Duchesse bent her face, and I 
 felt her sharp teeth close upon my wrist. A spurt 
 of blood stained the long ruffles of Malines lace that 
 swept my fingers, but tightening rather than relax- 
 ing my grip, I held Madame fast in my arms. 
 
124 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Heaven seems to take sport in making me a 
 tamer of women," I murmured. " Duchesse, there 
 was a night when I swore to carry through the mis- 
 sion of M. le Due d'Orleans, and for your sake I 
 kept my oath." 
 
 '' Ciel ! " she gasped. '' You have the letters ! " 
 
 " Are you ready to become Madame la Vicomtesse 
 de Championnet ? " I said. 
 
 " You have the letters ! " she cried again. '' Give 
 them to me ! Peste ! Audran, how slow you are ! 
 Give them to me now, before anyone comes into the 
 salon, and then I . . . I . . ." 
 
 '' Yes, Madame, what will you do ? " 
 
 " I will take your name ; I will wed you, Mon. 
 sieur, and in a week you may call me your wife — 
 you may take me back to Paris, and I will marry 
 you. I sv/ear it on my knees ! " 
 
 She dropped at my feet, and commenced to kiss 
 her little jewelled crucifix with a fervour that made 
 me smile. 
 
 " So you are prepared to be true to your word ! " 
 I said. 
 
 " Yes, a thousand times yes, M. le Vicomte," she 
 whispered, still clinging to my knees. '* Make haste I 
 The letters, for the sake of Heaven ! You have 
 them in your breast ? " 
 
 I shook my head. Madame gave a shrill cry and 
 
THE COMING OF MME. LA DUCHESSE 125 
 
 then knelt still as a statue, listening. Ah, her quick 
 ears had heard what mine had not, the sound of a 
 small door opening into one of the oriels of the 
 salon, and even as the Duchesse leapt to her feet a 
 heavy curtain was swung aside, and before us stood 
 Mademoiselle Aurelie, subHmely drest in a soft 
 black frock laced here and there with silver, and 
 brightened at the bosom by a cream and a damask 
 rose. I breathed either a curse or a prayer, and 
 making my most perfect bow, presented the ladies 
 to one another in a manner of inimitable delicacy. 
 
 No man in France could have done it better. 
 
 " Madame," I said, " this is my very dear cousin, 
 Mademoiselle Aurelie de Cheverny, of whom we 
 were speaking, and I am overjoyed to find she has 
 not retired for the night, as I so foolishly imagined. 
 Aurelie, Madame la Duchesse de Berri has deserted 
 the Luxembourg and the Palais-Royal, and come 
 all the way from Paris to submit to us her sympathies 
 on the death of M. le Chevalier. Charming of her, is 
 it not? And she is accompanied by Monseigneur 
 the Regent of France and M. I'Abbe Dubois — a deli- 
 ciously piquant surprise of which I never dreamed." 
 
 The Duchesse laughed a light laugh of very 
 pointed mockery. 
 
 " M. de Cheverny is eloquent to-night," she said. 
 ** Where is Monseigneur my father?" 
 
126 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 '' With M. le Comte d'Anquital and M. I'Abbe, 
 Madame," I replied. 
 
 '* Take me to him," she commanded, and survey- 
 ing Aurehe with an insolent stare, the Duchesse 
 emitted another devilish ripple of laughter, and laid 
 one of her hands in mine. 
 
 '' Come," she said, and swallowing a red-hot blas- 
 phemy, I swung in her company out of the salon, 
 leaving Mademoiselle standing motionless some- 
 where near the oriel — the picture of magnificent 
 and courageous beauty. 1 closed the door, and 
 just then who should appear but d'Anquital, and 
 Madame's eyes no sooner lighted upon him than 
 she loosed her hold of my hand. 
 
 " Ah, here is M. le Comte ! " she cried. '' You 
 may leave me now, M. de Cheverny ! You may, 
 if you like, return to your very dear cousin, 
 Mademoiselle Aurelie, and to-morrow we shall 
 meet again. Good-night, Monsieur, and pleasant 
 dreams." 
 
 D'Anquital's smile made me itch for his blood, 
 but I was scarcely the fool to show chagrin, how- 
 ever bitter the insult. No ; I bowed, that was all, 
 and watched them go together up the broad stair, 
 Madame's fingers resting on the arm of M. le Comte, 
 her head inclined towards his, and their faces peril- 
 ously near each other. 
 
'THE COMING OF MME. LA DUCHESSE 127 
 
 Well, that was her way of torturing me, and when 
 a woman deliberately tries to rouse the jealousy of 
 a man, she is very much in love with him or an in- 
 corrigible coquette. 
 
 Madame maddened me, and racked by a hundred 
 imaginings, I descended to the terrace, and tramped 
 to and fro 'mid the cold breath of night. Fury kept 
 my body warm as well as my heart, and I stayed 
 there until a sudden gush of rain and wind forced 
 me to take shelter within the chateau, and I turned 
 my feet once more to the salon, wondering how I 
 should be received by Mademoiselle Aurelie. 
 
 The Regent was coming up the stair, and, having 
 no desire to meet him in my present mood, I shrank 
 back into shadow and watched him pass onward to- 
 wards the chamber to which d'Anquital had escorted 
 the Duchesse. He was probably fresh from an 
 interview with Aurelie, and full of many thoughts, 
 I was about to enter the salon by the small oriel — 
 indeed my hand was already on the door — when the 
 sound of Mademoiselle's voice came to my ears ex- 
 tremely clear and resolute, and then, in reply, a man 
 made answer, and some subtle instinct warned me 
 that she was alone with M. le Comte d'Anquital. 
 Alone with d'Anquital, and at night! My heart 
 grew so cold that I shivered, and, pushing the door 
 softly back, I slipped w^ithin, shut it again, and. 
 
128 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 shrouded by the hangings, crouched low, and fixed 
 my eyes on Aurelie. 
 
 Many of the Hghts had been extinguished, and 
 the only remaining aureola shone around Mademoi- 
 selle as she stood by a couch and faced M. le Comte, 
 both hands flung negligently behind her, and her 
 figure coming out extraordinarily pretty and slim 
 against the rose-coloured stream of light that bathed 
 her face and body in soft radiance. I never saw her 
 look more beautiful, more exquisitely determined, 
 and I knew at a glance that she was at war for the 
 second time with the man I hated most in all the 
 world. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 MADEMOISELLE AURELIE AT BAY 
 
 " M. Le Comte," said Aurelie, '' I think it would 
 be well if you followed M. le Due to the card-cham- 
 ber. And Madame la Duchesse, an hour ago, leaned 
 'gainst your shoulder so lovingly that I swear she 
 awaits your return with restlessness. Go to her at 
 once, Monsieur, or you will get your ears pulled ! " 
 
 " Mademoiselle ! " exclaimed d'Anquital. 
 
 '' You seemed surprised at my audacity ! " she re- 
 plied ; " but the only way to shame an insolent man, 
 M. le Comte, is to laugh at him. And I am laugh- 
 ing at you. Come, are you in love with the Du- 
 chesse, or does Madame do the wooing? " 
 
 D'Anquital's strange eyes began to shine yellow 
 
 and cat-like from where he stood in the deep gloom, 
 
 and Dieu ! how I loathed him ! He wore a coat of 
 
 green velvet, trimmed and fretted here and there 
 
 with gold, and the great diamond buckles of his shoes 
 
 shot out dazzling rays of light as he made a quick 
 
 shufBe a little nearer to Aurelie. I have already 
 9 129 
 
I30 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 said he was the wickedest rascal on God's earth, and 
 when his soft, languorous glance crept from Made- 
 moiselle's feet to her face, and clung there, I was mad 
 enough to be ready to stab him in the back and 
 bring my heel down upon his dead lips ! Aurelie 
 did not seem to fear him — there lay her danger, and 
 I thanked Heaven a thousand times that I was near, 
 and wore a sword. 
 
 '^ M. le Due d'Orleans has been tempting Made- 
 moiselle to go with him to Paris — to taste life at the 
 Palais-Royal, and to dazzle the Court with her in- 
 comparable loveliness" — M. le Comte began, ignor- 
 ing her taunt of Madame la Duchesse. 
 
 " Yes," she admitted. " You heard my answer, 
 Monsieur." 
 
 " It saddened me," he replied, in his silkiest tones. 
 " You were never born to be a nun, Mademoiselle." 
 
 And he looked at her with a meaning she could 
 not possibly misunderstand. 
 
 '' Or you to be a gentleman, Monsieur ! " came 
 the ready answer. *' I cannot understand your pres- 
 ence here, nor the invasion of Cheverny by M. le 
 Due, his daughter, and M. I'Abbe. You have come 
 and taken possession of the chateau as though it 
 were your own." 
 
 ^' On M. Silvain's invitation," replied d'Anquital ; 
 and Mademoiselle bit her lips. 
 
MADEMOISELLE AURELTE AT BAY 131 
 
 ** He may have reasons for tolerating you awhile," 
 she reflected, drawing imaginary patterns with her 
 little foot upon the floor. 
 
 M. le Comte hissed a laugh. 
 
 " M. Silvain de Cheverny is certainly worth your 
 watching," he said. '' He is not a man to be trusted, 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 '' Tell him so to his face, Monsieur! " she flashed 
 out, " and I give you my word he will make you 
 smart ! " 
 
 " He is capable of any rascality under the sun," 
 returned d'Anquital. 
 
 "And you, Monsieur?" 
 
 I could have run forward and kissed her feet for 
 thus championing me in the face of this low unutter- 
 able scoundrel, and M. le Comte scarcely seemed to 
 know whether to laugh, to be enraged, or to play 
 the suave diplomatist. He chose the latter role, 
 and I must admit the man was a very finished and 
 fascinating persuader. Women had long been his 
 pi-ey — he had studied their vanities, their idiosyncra- 
 sies, their weakness, and their strength ; he knew when 
 to strike and how to flatter, and the soft notes of his 
 voice fell on one's ears with a charm that might over- 
 come the heart against the wall. I have always de- 
 tested a tongue which runs loose in the oil of flattery, 
 and yet I felt a subtle envy towards the intense al- 
 
132 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 lurement of M. le Comte's dashing declaration of love, 
 when all suddenly, and with the most abandoned 
 fervour, he flung himself down before Aurelie and 
 catching at the hem of her frock, pressed it to his 
 lips in the interlude of a red-hot, passionate appeal, 
 and, although his voice was as low as a whisper, my 
 ears did not so much as miss one word. 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! Mademoiselle, you make me burn 
 to take you in my arms ; you are the only woman in 
 France worth worshipping, and I swear on my honour 
 that I love you beyond all dreams — beyond life and 
 death, and beyond my soul's salvation ! Is not that 
 enough ? I said you were never meant to be a nun 
 — you were born for warm love : you have lived in 
 the cold long enough. Nay, do not try to draw away 
 from me ; I have your hands at last, and until your 
 lips have touched mine — until you have lain in 
 my arms and warmed my face with your kisses — I 
 shall not let you go. I have sworn to win you to- 
 night, and by Heaven I will ! Some women may be 
 coaxed by subtlety — others wooed by waiting, but 
 you are one of those whose hearts can only be taken 
 by storm. Mademoiselle, come to me! " 
 
 I crouched lower, panting. Aurelie was breathing 
 fast, one hand thrown across her bosom ; and the 
 purest snow could not have been whiter than her 
 face — the purest jewel could not have beat the cold 
 
MADEMOISELLE AURELIE AT BAY 133 
 
 brilliance of her eyes, and their look of loathing as 
 she gazed down upon d'Anquital told him better 
 than a torrent of words how indescribable and im- 
 placable was her hate. 
 
 What a vile scoundrel you are, Monsieur ! " she 
 said at last, and the scorn in her voice stabbed M. 
 le Comte to the quick. She flung herself clear of 
 him, but he arose and tried to snatch her wrist. 
 Mademoiselle slid behind the couch. 
 
 " Ah, you love this cousin—this Silvain," he 
 snarled, " but do you know what he is ? If I told 
 you all, you would rather poison him than smile 
 upon him. A treacherous hound, wdio is playing you 
 false, who has been worming himself into your con- 
 fidence that he might work some hellish purpose of 
 his own — that is part of the truth regarding Mon- 
 sieur Silvain. The rest you will know when it is too 
 late, when you and your friends are betrayed, or 
 doomed to the Bastille or the scaffold. Some day 
 you will think of my warning, and you will under- 
 stand that 1 came into your salon to save you as 
 well as to win your love." 
 
 " To save me from what ? " demanded Made- 
 moiselle. 
 
 " Come to me and I will tell you," he returned, 
 and stretched out his arms across the lounge. 
 
 Aurelie shrank away from him, there was fear in 
 
134 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 her eyes at last : the strong heart yearned for the 
 stronger hand, and realising that she was alone and 
 in his power, her woman's wit turned her into the 
 path of subtlety, which is the woman's sword when 
 all else fails. 
 
 *' It is late, Monsieur, and I am tired," she said. 
 " Perhaps in the morning we may meet again, and 
 then " 
 
 '' Yes, Mademoiselle, and then ? " 
 
 *' I shall, have an answer ready for you." 
 
 *^ No, I must have it now." urged d'Anquital. 
 "What more fitting hour than this, Mademoiselle? 
 We are alone in the silence of night, the lacqueys 
 are in attendance at the card chamber above, and 
 no one will come to interrupt our love. See, I will 
 lock this door . . ." 
 
 " No ! no ! no ! " she cried. " Monsieur, I shall 
 call for aid ! " 
 
 He deliberately crossed the salon, locked the 
 door, and was turning again towards Aurelie, when 
 she made a swift dash for the smaller exit, where I 
 lay hidden 'neath the hangings: but M. le Comte 
 was even quicker, and to avoid his embrace she was 
 forced to swing back once more to her old stand 
 behind the lounge, 
 
 '* Monsieur ! " she exclaimed, quivering with pas- 
 sion and hatred, '' you are something too foul for a 
 
MADEMOISELLE AUR^LIE AT BAY 135 
 
 pure woman even to spit upon ! Had I a whip ! My 
 God ! had I a whip ! " 
 
 He folded his arms and leered at her. 
 
 " What then, Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " I would lay it 'cross your face — I would lash 
 you bUnd!" she cried, in the white-heat of her 
 fury. 
 
 D'Anquital laughed. 
 
 " I love you the more for your adorable spirit, 
 which before dawn I'll tame ! " he answered. '' Cry 
 for help— none will come to you : M. le Marquis 
 and M. de Cheverny are basking in the warmth of 
 Madame de Berri's soft smiles, and while the glam- 
 our of her presence is around their hearts they'll 
 cast no thought to you. Will you yield yourself 
 to me, or must I make you captive ? You won't ! 
 Then . . ." 
 
 I rose to my feet. The time had come when I 
 and my sword were needed— already I had waited 
 too long, and M. le Comte was stealing around the 
 lounge, his devilishly handsome face coloured by the 
 rose-rays of the shaded lights. 
 
 Mademoiselle slid back step by step, her eyes 
 fixed on his, and there was no longer fear in her 
 gaze,— there was something a thousand times more 
 startling— the mad daring that turns a brave woman 
 at bay into the tigress ; and just as I was about to 
 
136 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 step from my hiding-place to send my bright strip 
 of steel through d'Anquital's heart, Aurelie's slim, 
 pretty form bent like a willow — out shot her little 
 hand, and she whipped the rapier as quick as light 
 from its sheath at M. le Comte's side. He mut- 
 tered a blasphemy — stepped back, leapt on a table, 
 and in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, extin- 
 guished the three great candles, and the salon was 
 in darkness. Aurelie gave a low cry, M. le Comte 
 answered it with a laugh, and I heard the quick pat- 
 ter of their feet as he chased her to and fro, avoid- 
 ing the wild thrusts which I knew she w^as driving 
 at him at every turn. Then I heard the rapier 
 tinkle loudly on the floor and guessed he had either 
 struck it from her hand, or else she had dropped it, 
 while I, cursing myself for holding back my aid so 
 long, slipped out into the centre of the room and 
 stealthily dogged the heavier footsteps of d'Anquital, 
 my sword poised for a savage, rapid thrust. I could 
 hear the drumming of my heart while Mademoiselle 
 and M. le Comte, both panting, moved about in 
 the dark, Aurelie searching for the oriel door, 
 d'Anquital hot on her trail to frustrate her only 
 chance of escape. Suddenly there came the sound 
 of a laugh, a sob, a scuffle, and afterwards a scream 
 more of fury than dread, and I knew in an instant 
 that he had caught her ! 
 
MADEMOISELLE AURELIE AT BAY 137 
 
 Letting my rapier dangle from my wrist by its 
 silken sword-loop, I stretched forth my hands, ran 
 forward, and, guided by Heaven and the Saints, 
 felt my fingers close and sink into M. le Comte's 
 throat. Choking, the scoundrel kept his grip on 
 Mademoiselle's arm until I swung him furiously 
 away and dragged him like a dead dog towards the 
 hearth. A few embers remained, and still retaining 
 my grasp on M. le Comte, I thrust my blade into the 
 faint red glow, and leaning down, blew upon the 
 cinders until a tiny flame flickered upward, showing 
 me the evil visage of d'Anquital, and further in the 
 shadow Aurelie de Cheverny, leaning against the 
 wall with closed eyes and a face of deathly white- 
 ness. I blew again upon the cinders, and M. le 
 Comte may or may not have guessed at my fresh 
 intention, for of a sudden he fought like a wild-cat 
 to break free from my grip. I did not speak— I 
 laughed ; and then Aurelie slowly approached and 
 stood looking down upon him and me. 
 
 ''Leave us," I urged, forcing d'Anquital once 
 more upon his back. '' This is no fit sight for you. 
 Mademoiselle! " 
 
 She shuddered. 
 
 " You are going to kill him ! " she whispered. 
 
 '' If Mademoiselle pleases," I replied, and M. le 
 Comte found his tongue. 
 
138 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Villain ! " he gasped. *' Mademoiselle, this man 
 is an accursed spy. His nam.e — his name is " 
 
 I brought my knee down on his breast and my 
 hand across his mouth. 
 
 " Go, for God's sake, Mademoiselle !" I implored, 
 " and let me settle scores with this wretch once 
 and for all ! " 
 
 ** You will not kill him ? Do not take his life ! 
 Thrash him if you like, Silvain, or drive him out 
 from the chateau with your sword ; but I cannot 
 bear that you should run him through the body 
 here before me." 
 
 *' I will not kill him ! Go ! " I commanded ; and, 
 throwing one frightened glance over her shoulder 
 at my face, Aurelie lifted the hangings of the oriel 
 and passed out of the salon, leaving me to work my 
 will upon d'Anquital. 
 
 The dying fire was low, but there v/as heat enough 
 to crimson the point of my rapier as though it had 
 been dipped in blood, and with a grim feeling at 
 my heart, I drew forth the blade and forced M. le 
 Comte's head back over my foot. The room was 
 dark save for the warm and rosy colour of the hearth, 
 and we must have made a strange picture, I and 
 d'Anquital, coming sharp out of the glow — I with 
 my hard face and eyes of steel ; he with his teeth 
 bared and a little splutter of foam trickling down 
 
MADEMOISELLE AUR^LIE AT BAY 139 
 
 his chin, watching me with a gaze of intense horror. 
 Once or twice he tried to speak ; more than once 
 he tried to struggle away from me, but never in my 
 life did I feel so supreme a strength, so vast a 
 power, as on this night at the Chateau Cheverny, 
 and at last I got Monsieur's head against my knee 
 and kept it there. 
 
 The rapier had cooled, so I heated it again ; then, 
 snatching it rapidly from the fire, I drew a red, 
 smoking cross on M. le Comte's brow. He howled 
 as a wolf, and snapped at me, but, flinging him aside, 
 I stepped back and let him rise. Out flashed his 
 sword, he came upon me with an extraordinarily 
 brilliant lunge, and when, after a swift pass or so, 
 my blade rasped beneath his and sent it spinning 
 towards the frescoed ceiling of the salon, I had more 
 than half a mind to run him through the lungs for 
 mere wickedness ; but remembering my promise to 
 Mademoiselle Aurelie, I went to the door, and threw 
 
 it wide. 
 
 "Monsieur may keep his life!'* I said, ''and I 
 wish him a very good-night ! " 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 
 
 M. LE COMTE d'Anquital had only just left me, 
 and I was solemnly meditating on the dangerous 
 knowledge he possessed of my identity, when who 
 should reappear but Mademoiselle. I was standing 
 by the mantel, and the room was still dim, though 
 I had lighted a little crystal lamp and set it on a 
 table near the oriel, and its faint orange-glow showed 
 me that Aurelie's face wore a wondrously sweet and 
 enchanting expression. Some of her russet hair was 
 all astray over her brow, and her big eyes shone with 
 soft magnificence as she came to me, holding out 
 her hands. She did not speak, but taking my 
 fingers, pressed them to her lips, and I swear that I 
 trembled from my head to my feet — the hot blood 
 surged to my face, and for a thousand louis I could 
 not have opened my mouth, even to stammer one 
 word of love, though my heart was full of it. 
 
 How this woman had crept into m.y life — how she 
 had weaned me from my unholy passion for Madame 
 la Duchesse de Berri, and dragged me back from 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 141 
 
 damnation ! But for her I should have killed M. le 
 Comte ; but for her I should have ruthlessly won 
 the letters of conspiracy, only to bring M. le Che- 
 valier's friends and co-conspirators to death, or to 
 the dungeon, by giving them into the hands of the 
 Regent that I might receive Madame as my wife, 
 and with her power, and riches, and a title that 
 might ring high in France. 
 
 All these thirsty longings were gone — Madame la 
 Duchesse had tempted me once, but she should not 
 tempt me again ; and although in a passionate mo- 
 ment I had drunk from her lips kisses which I took 
 as a pledge of love, I was resolved never more to be 
 either her tool or her lover. 
 
 Men often make such resolves — they seldom keep 
 them, and there is an affinity 'twixt a gay reckless 
 man and a woman of warm romance which leads them 
 oftener towards the devil than towards Heaven. 
 
 On calm reflection, too, I was forced to confess 
 that if Madame became my wife, it would in the 
 end be to me as much a manage de convenance as 
 of love. I had not only wanted the Duchesse, I 
 wanted to satiate my ambition by claiming an im- 
 mense reward from M. le Due d'Orleans, and there 
 is nothing so damning to a man's peace as to be for 
 ever consumed by a lust after power. 
 
 Aurdlie was charming me away from sin — she was 
 
142 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 making me loathe my own vileness — she was fetch- 
 ing back some of the old de Championnet honour 
 to my not altogether profligate soul, and I was de- 
 termined that whether she cared a kiss or a curse 
 for me, I at least would be to her as true a friend as 
 any in France ! And yet she was no saint — had she 
 shown saintliness I could not have adored her : nay, 
 by Heaven, she was just the sweetest, gallantest 
 little heroine in the world, and a woman to the very 
 heart's blood. She had a temper — she could storm 
 the chateau down when she pleased, and I had heard 
 her swear with fervour more than once ; but for 
 loyalty, brilliance, and charm, there was no maid on 
 earth fit to compare with Mademoiselle de Cheverny. 
 She held my fingers so long a time that shame 
 covered me, and I began to draw them away. 
 
 '' Mademoiselle, do not think me a sentimental 
 blackguard — but I am unworthy of this ... it is I 
 who should do homage," I said. 
 
 " I have never met any man half so chivalrous 
 as you," she broke out in her impetuosity. '' Silvain, 
 I am reproaching myself a million times that I ever 
 doubted you — that I ever scorned you " 
 
 *' Hush, Mademoiselle," I whispered, " you know 
 little of me, and if you knew more I think you would 
 rather spurn my hand than kiss it. I have forgotten 
 all your bitterness; I remember only your kind 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 143 
 
 words — your words of regret. They are treasured 
 deep down in my heart, and if we soon part forever, 
 Mademoiselle, and I never look into your eyes again, 
 I shall at least carry with me the clean thought that 
 whereas I once sinned, I have striven to atone, and 
 the memory of you will never leave me — no, not till 
 I die ! And afterwards, if Death is naught but a 
 long slumber, you will come to me in my dreams, 
 and I shall be as near Heaven as I deserve. I have 
 no other wish, Mademoiselle, no other hope ! " 
 
 I bowed my head, and when at last I took courage 
 and looked up, her eyes were bright with tears. 
 
 "And you will leave me, Silvain ? '* she said. 
 
 ** In good time. Mademoiselle ; when Cheverny 
 is clear of the Regent and Madame de Berri, M. 
 I'Abbe and M. le Comte d'Anquital. There will be 
 nothing to stay for." 
 
 " Nothing to stay for ? " 
 
 She repeated the words dreamily, the lashes 
 shading her eyes, which glittered very prettily 
 through her tears. 
 
 '' You will be well rid of me," I urged. '* I brought 
 you nothing but misery and danger ; I have caused 
 you nothing but sorrow ; and yet, if you bid me re- 
 main, if I could serve you in any way — however 
 small, however humble — I would do it, Mademoi- 
 selle, to the last beat of my heart.** 
 
144 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 *' Then stay," she whispered. 
 
 Her voice was low and sweet ; she was smiling 
 upon me, and I drank in her youth, her freshness, 
 and her beauty until I seemed aglow with a new life 
 and a new hope. Had she stayed another moment, 
 I might have been mad enough to declare my love 
 for her ; but while I paused, perturbed, irresolute, 
 she slid behind the curtains, whispered a soft 
 *' Good-night," and was gone. 
 
 I drew a huge fauteuil to the hearth, and flung 
 myself down with a weariness that angered me. 
 Aurelie must be rescued from Cheverny. It was 
 not safe for her to remain in the chateau with d'An- 
 quital, and I began to wish I had killed the rascal, 
 even 'gainst her will ; but there was no getting quit 
 of him until the Regent returned to Paris. I won- 
 dered how long he would stay, and what the mor- 
 row would bring. More than likely he would de- 
 mand the letters. I cursed the day of my coming 
 to Cheverny — I cursed the day that I was born ; and 
 so the time passed. 
 
 An occasional footstep on the stair told me that 
 one or two lacqueys still moved to and fro in at- 
 tendance on those in the card-chamber. A strange 
 trio — M. le Due, his daughter the Duchesse, and 
 Dubois — to desert the salon for the cards, and the 
 dice, and the company of two gentlemen whom they 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 145 
 
 had never seen. They were having supper brought 
 to them, and I could hear the rattle of the silver in 
 the room above ; possibly they were about to initi- 
 ate the Marquis and M. Maury de Saint-Cloud into 
 the mysteries of one of the Palais-Royal orgies, and 
 I prayed that Mademoiselle Aur^lie was safe in the 
 company of Madame Rochette and out of harm's 
 way. 
 
 The embers of the fire ceased at last to glow — 
 the night grew colder and colder, and I was rising to 
 retire, when a slight tapping sound on a window 
 sent my hand instinctively to the hilt of my rapier. 
 
 All the great lattices were uncurtained : the storm 
 had passed, and a strong slant of moonlight poured 
 into the salon, so that I stood clear to the view of 
 any one without. I waited, and presently the tap- 
 ping recommenced. I moved to the nearest win- 
 dow, and gazed out upon the terrace. It was bare 
 and glistening wet, but silent as the grave, and I 
 stole farther down the room until, at the last of the 
 six lattices, I saw a man's face, and some inexpli- 
 cable fascination drew me closer until I stopped 
 dead, with a heart of ice. It Vv^as the face of Silvain 
 de Cheverny ! The moonlight was playing around 
 him, and he was crouching a little — his long ragged 
 coat trailing on the terrace, his hat pulled over his 
 
 eyes, and a white scarf wrapped about his throat — 
 10 
 
146 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 that throat which m}' rapier had pierced in the glade 
 by Pontign}^ and in my horror at the apparition I 
 did not know that I too was crouching in the same 
 manner as my enemy, and for awhile neither of us 
 moved a limb or twitched an eye, until a burst of 
 laughter and song sounding from the card-chamber 
 above set Monsieur Silvain to tap the window again 
 with the tips of his fingers. 
 
 I made up my mind on the instant, and opening 
 the lattice, admitted him to the salon, holding my 
 drawn sword in my hand. 
 
 De Cheverny bowed, and softty closed the window. 
 
 " I am. come home at last, M. le Vicomte," he said. 
 " I v/as not so easily killed, after all, though I con- 
 fess your thrust well-nigh sent me to Purgatory. 
 Ma foi, Monsieur, you are a beautiful duellist." 
 
 I could not answer him — I was too stunned, too 
 amazed ; so he sat down and laughed low to him- 
 self, letting the tail of his eye rest now and then 
 upon my face, which I dare say was deadly white. 
 It was enough to scare the wits of any man, this 
 resurrection of the rascal Silvain, and for a moment 
 my sangfroid, my calmness, and my gallantry de- 
 serted me altogether ; but with a subtle instinct I 
 swung the curtains over the windows, one by one, 
 locked both doors, and lighted two or three candles. 
 Then I turned again upon de Cheverny. He blinked, 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 147 
 
 moved his head stiffly, and pulling off his hat, threw 
 it down by his muddy feet. He wore riding-boots, 
 and they were spurred : he also wore a rapier, and 
 there was a wicked, restless expression on his face 
 that warned me I must play my game warily if I 
 wished to dupe Monsieur Silvain and ensure his 
 exit, dead or alive, from the chateau. 
 
 " So I am not burdened with your life, after all," 
 I began, " and my thrust. Monsieur, was scarcely so 
 true as I had intended." 
 
 " One-eighth of an inch, and you would have slit 
 my throat through and through ! " he replied. 
 
 " Well, the miscalculation was excusable. The 
 lanthorn was fickle, and the moonbeams merry, but 
 I did my best to kill you," I said. 
 
 " And failed," he reflected. 
 
 " Well, well ! " I laughed. " The best duellists 
 are sometimes at fault, and you must admit the light 
 was bad. Yet if any man ever looked like death 
 under a sword-thrust, it was you, Monsieur, when 
 you clapped both hands to your neck and fell." 
 
 '^ Would you have twirled your handkerchief 
 around my throat had you thought it might stanch 
 the flow of blood — eh, Vicomte ? " he demanded. 
 
 " I meant you to die," I returned. 
 
 Silvain smiled, and stole a glance at the rings 
 upon my fingers. 
 
148 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Why did you mean me to die ? " he asked. 
 
 *' For the lust of killing," I lightly replied. 
 
 " No, M. Ic Vicomte," he said. " You wanted me 
 dead for a purpose. When I swooned you stole my 
 coat, my perruque, my rings, and my pardon. The 
 rings are now on your fingers : the perruque has 
 only given place to an excellent imitation, and I 
 dare say you have acted me to the very life, here at 
 Cheverny. While I lay in the snow. Monsieur, after 
 you left me, who should appear but mine host of 
 the Pontigny hostelry. Stealing into the wine- 
 chamber to find us gone, he had suspected a duel, 
 and arrived by my side almost the moment follow- 
 ing your departure. He must have been bending 
 over me v/hile you were bridling your mare, for he 
 swears he heard the rattle of her hoofs upon the 
 frozen road." 
 
 *' So he saved your life," I said. 
 
 " He and your handkerchief." 
 
 " And where have you lain since? " 
 
 " At the hostelry. The innkeeper and his wife 
 were the only persons cognisant of my presence 
 there. I said I was the Vicomte de Championnet. 
 Monsieur, you stare at me ; but as you have taken 
 my name and my character, why should I not take 
 yours ? I told these people that I wanted all Paris 
 to hear that I, the Vicomte, was dead, and they 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 149 
 
 spread the news at once. I also bribed them to 
 keep silence as to my being at the hostelry, and the 
 woman nursed me in secret, while her husband 
 asked every travelling stranger who happened to 
 call for supper, or a cup of wine, whether he had 
 heard that M. le Vicomte de Championnet, once so 
 well known in Paris, had been mysteriously killed in 
 a duel close to the village. Your supposed death has 
 been talked about, Monsieur, in all the taverns and 
 coffee-houses, and it is said M. le Due d'Orleansand 
 Madame de Berri were greatly affected." 
 
 I smiled a little, and seated myself opposite to de 
 Cheverny, with a table between us. His eyes were 
 sunken — his face had lost its florid coarseness, but 
 his look was as subtle and wicked as ever, and he 
 craftily glanced at me in a manner that aroused my 
 strongest suspicions. 
 
 *' I must either kill this man," I thought, " or he 
 will kill me." 
 
 '' Why did you wish all Paris to imagine I was 
 slain ? " I asked. 
 
 '' Because you desired It, Monsieur," he retorted. 
 ''You have passed as Sllvain de Cheverny into M. 
 le Chevalier's chateau for some black reason best 
 known to yourself — you are here on a devil's game, 
 and so am I ! I lay snug at Pontigny until my 
 wound healed, that you might think me dead — 
 
I50 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 that you might fancy yourself secure against detec- 
 tion. I gave you time to win a footing in the graces 
 of my uncle and my cousin, and now the Chevalier 
 is no longer alive I am come to take possession 
 of Cheverny, and to revenge myself on you by 
 showing you in your true character. Mine host 
 of the inn has proved a treasure. He gained me all 
 the news of your entrance, your reception, the death 
 of my uncle, and your possible alliance with Made- 
 moiselle Aurelie. He has a son who is stable-boy 
 here. I have paid them both well from the purse 
 which I found in the pocket of your coat, M. le 
 Vicomte — that coat which you left in exchange for 
 mine. Ah, you have been deep. You have played 
 a masterly game, but I held the ace all through, 
 and to-night I shall throw it down. And what will 
 Mademoiselle say ? " 
 
 I was silent. 
 
 " And what will Mademoiselle say ? " he repeated, 
 thrusting his face closer to mine, and grinning from 
 ear to ear. Certainly Monsieur Silvain was an in- 
 imitable scoundrel. 
 
 " You know too much," I answered, leaning my 
 arms on the table and glaring back at him. " You 
 are in my way here at Cheverny, and I shall have to 
 get rid of you. Monsieur." 
 
 "You will never do that," he said. 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 151 
 
 "Are you in need of money ?" I inquired. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " If I offer you a bribe, will you leave the chateau, 
 and return no more until three days are past ? " 
 
 His mocking laugh echoed through the salon. 
 
 " That you may finish your game, and, in addition, 
 cheat me out of my inheritance ! No, M. le Vi- 
 comte ! Not for a million louis ! " 
 
 ^'You are scarcely diplomatic," I murmured. 
 " You seem to forget thati hold your pardon from the 
 Due d'Orleans. Unless you can exhibit that order 
 for your release from the Bastille, I fear, Monsieur, 
 your claim to Cheverny will gain no hearing. In the 
 eyes of the law you are a murderer. You were 
 branded as such when you killed M. le Comte and 
 Mademoiselle Crespigny by Notre Dame." 
 
 " Villain ! " he cried. " You propose to retain the 
 Regent's pardon, which you stole from me after the 
 duel!" 
 
 *' Exactly ! " I returned, " unless you leave the 
 chateau at once and do not re-appear until my busi- 
 ness here is ended. I can have you arrested, if I 
 please, and taken back to Paris. Without your 
 priceless slip of paper, signed by M. le Due's hand, 
 your liberty. Monsieur, or your captivity lies entirely 
 at my disposal. The Regent is my friend. I could 
 go to him and say, * Monseigneur, M. Silvain de 
 
152 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 Cheverny is too dangerous a rogue to be anywhere 
 but In the Bastille.' I could show him your pardon, 
 and at my request he would instantly cancel it." 
 
 " Where is the order for my release ? " he cried. 
 
 '' Here ! " I replied, striking my breast ; and all 
 suddenly, without a shadow of warning, Silvain 
 made a snatch at my throat across the table. I shot 
 my head aside and arose, while he crouched in the 
 fauteuil and gave vent to a little snarl of unutterable 
 fury. 
 
 "Foiled, Monsieur!" I said. ''When shall I 
 make you understand how entirely your life and 
 your fortunes are in my hands? I can have you 
 thrown back in the Bastille or kill you here in the 
 salon. You are at my mercy, and I am deter- 
 mined to see the end of you to-night. Last time 
 we met, the light or my rapier played me false, but 
 I do not think I shall make another blunder. You 
 have come into my presence of your own free will, 
 to checkmate me: I hold the right of defending 
 myself in my own way. Follow me outside, Mon- 
 sieur, and let us end the quarrel." 
 
 For answer he unbuckled his sword, and flung it, 
 sheath and all, at my feet. 
 
 "You will not fight ? " I asked. 
 
 " Sang Dieu ! No, M. le Vicomte ! " 
 
 " Then you cannot blame me for running my 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 153 
 
 blade through your heart, and so ridding myself of 
 a pestilent rascal." 
 
 Silvain leered. There was no fear in his eyes, 
 only a gleam of unfathomable cunning, and I 
 slapped back my rapier with a curse. 
 
 *' M. le Vicomte de Championnet may be a 
 scoundrel," de Cheverny replied, " but not even his 
 deadliest enemy could say he was anything but a 
 gentleman, — a second Bayard, — ' sans peur et sans 
 reproche,' to a beaten and helpless foe. I am at 
 your feet, Monsieur, do with me what you will. 
 There is my sword, and here am I." 
 
 I stayed looking upon him reflectively, and a calm 
 smile of wonderful serenity began to spread over his 
 evil face. One might think he loved me, but I knew 
 better. That smile meant hatred, and I watched 
 and watched Silvain, marking down in my mind his 
 fearless urbanity and unruffled demeanour : his 
 laughing mouth and the brightening glitter of his 
 sunken eyes. For a few moments I scarcely knew 
 how to pursue my intention of clearing him out of 
 my sight : I could not kill a man who would not 
 resist — he was right in calling me a scoundrel — he 
 was also not far from the truth in believing me to 
 be still a gentleman of some chivalry, if a scoundrel 
 and a gentleman might sail together under the name 
 of de Championnet. It astonished me that he 
 
154 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 should be so well acquainted with my doings at the 
 chateau, and I congratulated myself that he knew 
 nothing of M. le Due's presence, and the arrival of 
 the Duchesse and Dubois. 
 
 " Where did you leave your horse, Monsieur ? '* I 
 demanded. 
 
 *' At the village hostelry," he replied, and I 
 breathed again. 
 
 " Did any one recognise you ? " 
 
 " No, M. le Vicomte." 
 
 " But you are not clad in the garments I discarded 
 after our duel : you seem to have done with the role 
 of de Championnet." 
 
 ** Entirely," he returned. " I have come here in 
 my own right as Silvain de Cheverny, to denounce 
 you to Mademoiselle my cousin." 
 
 ^' Will she believe you ? " 
 
 " I shall claim Cheverny," he said. 
 
 " How can you. Monsieur, with no pardon to 
 show?" 
 
 " You will give it back to me," he implored. 
 
 '' Perhaps," I answered, *' but not until it suits me 
 to do so. When I am ready to make my adieux to 
 the chateau — when my business here is complete, — 
 I may have time, Monsieur, to think of restoring to 
 you your passport to your freedom and demesne. 
 But what would become of Mademoiselle Aurelie if 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 155 
 
 I gave you the means of taking possession of the 
 chateau in which she has spent her young life ? 
 How do I know you would behave as a gentleman 
 of honour ? " 
 
 *' If there is any truth in the gossip of maids and 
 lacqueys, M. le Vicomte has such an admiration for 
 Mademoiselle that he would prefer to remain here 
 as her husband, under my name," murmured Silvain, 
 with a light laugh which maddened me. 
 
 " By her permission, I might do so," I returned. 
 
 " If I were dead," he reflected. 
 
 " Oh, that is a small matter ! " I said, surveying 
 him with a smile ; " and on second thoughts. Mon- 
 sieur, I have decided to put an end to you here in 
 the salon. Do not move. Just now you appealed 
 to my honour ; but in dealing with rogues one is 
 sometimes tempted to forget such a thing exists, 
 and I shall have no more compunction in killing you 
 than I should in spitting a wolf. You are shaking, 
 M. de Cheverny ; your face is grey. Permit me to 
 offer you a cup of wine." 
 
 Crossing the room, I carefully opened the door a 
 few inches, and was fortunate enough to catch the 
 eye of a lacquey, who was removing the remains of 
 the card-chamber supper, and bade him fetch me a 
 couple of flasks of Benicario. Taking them myself 
 from his hands, I locked the door again and ap- 
 
156 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 proached Silvain. He was staring into the dead 
 fire, his chin on his breast, and his mouth half-open. 
 
 " Drink, Monsieur ! " I said, and handed him a 
 cup of the wine. He drained it eagerly ; the blood 
 rushed to his face, and I let him play with the flask 
 until it was as dry as his thirsty throat. My threat 
 of taking his life seemed to have impressed him to 
 such an extent that he was desirous of drowning all 
 thought of it, and I grew secretly merry when, with 
 trembling hands, Silvain broke the neck of the 
 second bottle of Benicario. I leaned back against 
 the wall, watching him. 
 
 The time was fast flying — it must have been near 
 three in the morn — and I wondered whether I had 
 ever spent so eventful and exciting a night. The 
 laughter in the chamber above had ceased, and I 
 imagined Monseigneur the Regent might have 
 retired and the party dispersed to their rooms. 
 
 It was strange behaviour towards guests to desert 
 them almost on their entrance to the chateau, but 
 the extraordinary exigency of my position gave me 
 no opportunity to pay even a flying visit to the card- 
 chamber. And M. le Due had not sent for me. 
 Well, the discourtesy was not altogether on one side, 
 for it was nothing short of the most outrageous in- 
 solence of the Regent and Dubois to make straight 
 "^ for the lansquenet table on their arrival at Cheverny. 
 
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW 157 
 
 D'Anquital was responsible for that, and when Ma- 
 dame la Duchesse too showed a preference for his 
 company, and left me to tramp the terrace alone 
 with my thoughts and my chagrin, I certainly felt 
 no inclination to seek her presence again of my own 
 accord. 
 
 It was insufferable, my position at the chateau : 
 Monseigneur, Madame, and M. I'Abbe appeared to 
 treat me with an utter absence of respect, and I 
 began to believe they were suspicious of my faith 
 to their little intrigue. That, too, I put down to 
 M. le Comte. He had, I daresay, been whispering 
 a hundred lies into their ears, and now I had brought 
 him to such humiliation there seemed no doubt he 
 would redouble his low rascality. 
 
 But at the present my fear was of Silvain, rather 
 than of d'Anquital. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 SILVAIN 
 
 He began to attack the second flask of Benicarlo, 
 darting an occasional glance at me — a glance that 
 grew duller and more drunken as the m.oments 
 passed. His face was reddening fast, and the pe- 
 culiar movements of his head, poised on the stiff and 
 still poignantly painful neck, might, at a lighter hour, 
 have made me laugh. Suddenly he arose, swax^ed 
 to and fro, and with a rattling string of hiccups 
 requested me to hand him his rapier. 
 
 I declined. 
 
 " Then you are a coward, M. le Vicomte ! " he 
 said. 
 
 " As you please. Monsieur," I replied. " Sit 
 down and finish your wine." 
 
 He obeyed, but, with the foolish persistence of 
 the drunkard, struggled to his feet again and once 
 more expressed a desire for a duel. 
 
 " Wait," I answered. 
 
 *Ah! you have turned coward," he leered. 
 158 
 
SILVAIN 159 
 
 " While I was weak you challenged me, but now that 
 the wine has made me strong and eager you have 
 no further desire to fight." 
 
 I scowled at him. Would the rogue never fall 
 asleep, or shut his eyes in tipsy, maudlin helpless- 
 ness? 
 
 When he tried, for the third time, to rise, I 
 pushed him roughly back with my hand, and, forc- 
 ing a laugh, offered him the last drain of Benicarlo. 
 He hesitated ; but when I held the cup to his lips 
 his quivering fingers closed upon it, and he drank to 
 the dregs, falling almost at the very instant into 
 profound and bestial slumber. I raised his eyelids ; 
 I shook him twice or thrice ; but, save for the heavi- 
 ness of his breathing, one might think he had been 
 drugged. 
 
 I watched him — exultant, and yet undecided. I 
 had mastered the fool without shedding his blood. 
 He was now at my mercy, and my sole desire was 
 to cause the exodus of Monsieur de Cheveni}^ from 
 the chateau to a place where he could neither med- 
 dle with me nor my future schemes. Once rid of 
 Silvain, I thought I saw my way to deal with M. le 
 Comte d'Anquital. The day subsequent to m}^ 
 arrival I had made myself conversant with most of 
 the numerous corridors and rooms of the chateau, 
 and during my explorations I was much struck 
 
i6o FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 with a singular little chamber underneath the right 
 wing of the mansion, wherein an illustrious de 
 Cheverny, who ended his days as Bishop of Evreux, 
 some time about Richelieu's first accession to power, 
 was wont to say his orisons. 
 
 The room was utterly secluded ; it was reached 
 only through a long, dark, and narrow corridor, and 
 I determined to drag or carry Silvain down to it 
 and lock him in. I went to the oriel door and 
 looked out. The chateau was silent. Not even 
 the shoe of a lacquey creaked or tapped upon the 
 stair, and running back to de Cheverny I flung him 
 with a little difficulty on my shoulder, and taking a 
 lamp, staggered from the salon to the steps which 
 led to the chamber. Once I stopped with a catch 
 of my breath, thinking I heard voices, but the fear 
 was bred from fancy, and a few minutes later I was 
 returning to the salon, leaving Silvain to sleep off 
 his drunkenness in the good bishop's oratory. 
 
 Putting out the candles, I went swinging up the 
 stairs to bed with a lighter heart, and on the way 
 peeped into the card-chamber and had a start that 
 made my blood run v/arm again. The room was 
 strewn from end to end with broken glass : wine 
 ran about the floor like little streams of blood, and 
 although the lansquenet table was piled with gold 
 and bright with scattered cards, it was deserted, and 
 
SILVAIN i6i 
 
 I saw that the Regent, Dubois, d'Anquital, and M. 
 de Saint-Cloud were lying almost where they had 
 fallen in the midst of their gambling, carousing 
 orgie, and M. le Marquis de Merivale, kneeling by 
 a taffeta lounge, was paying his court to the 
 Duchesse. Madame looked superb — alluring ; and 
 although I knew the Marquis had lost his heart to 
 her — perhaps his soul also, — and that a month ago 
 I should have called him out and striven to send 
 my blade under his ribs had he dared come betwixt 
 her and me, I now — somewhat, I confess, to my 
 surprise — hardly felt a flush when Monsieur offered 
 his lips, and the Duchesse accepted them. 
 
 " You to-day — another to-morrow ! " 
 
 Yes, d'Anquital was right, and I was now ready 
 to believe anything of Madame la Duchesse de 
 Berri. She had freed me by her faithlessness, and I 
 was at liberty to play the honnete chevalier once 
 more — to press forward towards my fate, and to live 
 only for Mademoiselle Aurelie. 
 
 I softly drew the curtain and retired for the 
 
 night. 
 II 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE REGENT THREATENS 
 
 My first thought on awaking was to pay a visit to 
 Silvain, and I was wondering how I might procure 
 food and wine for him unobserved, when a lacquey 
 knocked at the door and informed me that Monsei- 
 gneur the Regent requested the pleasure of my 
 company on the terrace. The man also remarked, 
 in parenthesis, that it was eleven o'clock. Making a 
 hurried toilet, I ran down to find M. le Due stroll- 
 ing to and fro in a deep reverie. On seeing me, he 
 halted, offered his hand, and drew me to the balus- 
 trade with an affectation of extreme benevolence. 
 
 " Bon jour, M. le Vicomte ! " he said. 
 
 " M. de Cheverny ! " I corrected. " Monseigneur 
 sometimes forgets." 
 
 " True," he replied. "This is a world of forget- 
 fulness. Well, then, I wish you bon jour, M. de 
 Cheverny. You refrained from gracing the card- 
 chamber last night. Why was that ? " 
 
 " I had no heart for play or for wine," I answered ; 
 162 
 
THE REGENT THREATENS 163 
 
 '' and if you, Monseigneur, had sought bed imme- 
 diately on your arrival, you would not now be ex- 
 periencingthe discomfort ofahot throat and a furry 
 tongue." The Regent laughed. 
 
 " Insolent as ever," he rejoined ; '* but you must 
 admit I look none the worse for my debauch." 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. 
 
 " One day you will pay the price, M. le Due." 
 
 He frowned and glanced sharply at me. 
 
 **What makes you turn saint, Monsieur?" 
 
 " It is time one of us turned our back on the 
 devil, Monseigneur," 
 
 " I have found him very gay company," he said, 
 with extreme gravity ; and as I vouchsafed no an- 
 swer, Philippe d'Orleans assumed a magnificent and 
 princely authority which taught me that I stood in 
 the presence of my master. 
 
 ** You know why I have come to Cheverny ? " he 
 said, his eyes freezing. 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 " Monseigneur has come to reckon with me," I 
 replied, giving him a look that was straight and 
 fearless. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I am here to reckon with you, 
 Monsieur. You commenced your work well. You 
 killed Silvain de Cheverny, gained the confidence of 
 the lamented Chevalier, and you have made a pre- 
 
i64 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 tence of being head over ears in love with that 
 pretty witch, Mademoiselle Aureiie. You see, I 
 know all." 
 
 '' You know more than all, M. le Due," I re- 
 turned, but he ignored my suggestion. 
 
 ** Having accomplished so much, you should by 
 this time be in possession of the letters," he re- 
 marked. 
 
 I bowed again. 
 
 " Do you know where they are secreted ? " 
 
 I was silent. I might have lied ; I might have 
 been diplomatic ; I might have temporised ; but at 
 the moment I seemed not to care for Monseigneur's 
 anger. My thoughts went straying away to Aure- 
 iie, and instead of the subtle schemer, the duellist, 
 and the willinof rascal who had started from the 
 Luxembourg on a rascal's enterprise, M. le Due 
 d'Orleans found at Cheverny the Vicomte de Cham- 
 pionnet of ten years ago, mellowed and steeled by 
 the one honest passion of his later life. 
 
 " Do you know where those letters are secreted ? " 
 demanded the Regent in a terrible voice. 
 
 His wrath surprised me : I never dreamed he 
 could give way to such a show of fury ; but the 
 more bitter his rage, the more stubborn and cool I 
 grew. 
 
 '* Monseigneur — " I began, and just then who 
 
THE REGENT THREATi:NS 165 
 
 should appear but Dubois, with his ferret's face and 
 reddened eyes. Philippe d'Orl^ans instantly be- 
 came calm, and the two surveyed me in silence for 
 a moment. M. TAbbe was the first to speak. 
 
 " M. le Vicomte has the letters ? " he inquired. 
 
 " No," said M. le Due. 
 
 *' Eh?" cried the Abb^. 
 
 ** You must give me more time," I answered. 
 
 " More time ! And what have you been doing 
 all these weeks at Cheverny ? " 
 
 I related my adventures— with reservations — from 
 the hour of my setting forth from Paris ; and so 
 vivid was my narrative, that the Regent partially 
 recovered his good-humour, and Dubois smiled. 
 
 " You have done well," he remarked. 
 
 "Yes," I assented, with complacency; ''I am 
 carrying out Monseigneur's instructions in every 
 respect." 
 
 *' Are you ? " he asked, and there was a flash in 
 his eyes which might have been a threat. At any 
 rate, I took it as such ; and when, a minute later, 
 he smiled again, I understood how M. I'Abbe hated 
 me. While Dubois smiled thus, there was danger 
 in the air ; but I was confident in my capacity to 
 deal with him, if only the Regent would give me 
 time to mature my plans for the future. They 
 whispered together awhile, and I stood basking in 
 
i66 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 the faint warmth of the wintry sunbeams which 
 played upon the terrace and stole through the win- 
 dows of the grand salon. Suddenly Monseigneur's 
 voice called me, and I went to him. 
 
 " You are not playing a double game, Vicomte ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 I felt the hot blood burn my cheeks. 
 
 ** Monseigneur places small trust in me," I replied. 
 
 " Friends are sometimes false," he reflected. 
 
 " I have never been false to you, M. le Due," was 
 my answer. 
 
 ''Do you ever intend to be?" he inquired. 
 *' Have you any desire to abandon your quest ? " 
 
 " If I were tired of my search for the letters, I 
 should not now be Avithin the chateau," I said. 
 " I ask you once more to give me time." 
 
 "Three days," he suggested. 
 
 "It. is too long," whispered Dubois. "Monsei- 
 gneur, you must be in Paris by Sunday." 
 
 " Then M. le Vicomte will understand that his busi- 
 ness here is to be concluded by Saturday evening ? " 
 
 " Exactly," said the Abbe ; " and I have no 
 doubt the papers will lie in our hands during our 
 return to Paris. M. le Vicomte, if he be wise, will 
 not dare to fail us. If he does " 
 
 " What then ? " I demanded, straightening my 
 frame, and turning sharp upon him. 
 
THE REGENT THREATENS 167 
 
 " Monsieur must die — that is all ! " 
 
 For a little while I stayed unconscious of the 
 presence of Dubois and the Regent. The threat 
 stunned, but did not frighten me. Nay, I had faced 
 death too many times to even dream of dreading its 
 approach ; but in the past I was alone, — now there 
 was Aurelie to be protected, and my love for Made- 
 moiselle made me want to live, if only for her sake. 
 Heavens, and how I loved her ! 
 
 Birds were chirping in the gardens below us, and 
 the fragrant air told that spring was nigh ; but to 
 me all seemed winter, and my heart was cold. 
 Monseigneur and the Abbe were both watching me 
 just as they had done in the Luxembourg card- 
 chamber, and catching the Regent's eye. I pulled 
 myself together and faced him. 
 
 " So I am to die on the scaffold if I fail to keep 
 my promise ? " I said. 
 
 " No, not on the scafTold," returned M. le Due. 
 
 " Nothing half so pleasant. Monsieur," grinned 
 Dubois. " You shall not die at once — you shall 
 rot ! " 
 
 I made a quick gesture of despair. 
 
 *' Are you anticipating failure?" inquired the 
 Regent, v/ith a charming smile. 
 
 " Even the boldest enterprise sometimes ends 
 ingloriously, Monseigneur. If I cannot find the 
 
i68 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 papers — if I am unable to bring them to you, I may 
 surely count at the least on the death of a soldier 
 and a gentleman. You would not suffer me to 
 perish in a dungeon — you would remember how I 
 and mine had fought for France, and would permit 
 me to die in my own way." 
 
 The Regent turned away his face. 
 
 " Monsieur, you are an early pleader," said Du- 
 bois, " and one might think you already contem- 
 plated a little treachery — that you were indeed 
 seriously determined to play us false. Are you in 
 a position to secure the letters ? " 
 
 " I believe, M. I'Abbe, that within three days I 
 can lay hands on them." 
 
 " Pardieu ! why in Heaven's name did you not 
 say so before ? We are burning to crush this 
 second conspiracy, and it is imperative that the 
 Cardinal Alberoni's correspondence shall be pub- 
 lished to the world. Had the Chevalier de Cheverny 
 lived, he would have seen his subtle intrigue trod- 
 den beneath our feet, and someone must have paid 
 the forfeit — ay, and shall pay it now. We only 
 need these letters, Vicomte, to begin our sport, and 
 you shall bring them to Monseigneur, or die. You 
 may have heard of the Chateau Sainte Roxane? " 
 
 I shuddered. 
 
 " And the old duneeons there ?" 
 
THE REGENT THREATENS 169 
 
 My face betrayed my horror. 
 
 "And how men have died in them?" 
 
 I glared at M. TAbbe in a dumb fury. 
 
 " Their fate will be yours, Monsieur, if you fail, 
 us. Au revoir — and remember." 
 
 They went together into the chateau. 
 
 Not a word of Madame la Duchesse de Berri — 
 not a suggestion of my promised reward ! No, 
 Monseigneur and Dubois imagined they had bought 
 me body and soul, and were resolved to defer pay- 
 ment until I came to them in my shame and dis- 
 honour with the priceless sheaves of secrets I had 
 wheedled from Mademoiselle Aurelie. I laughed a 
 grim laugh in my heart. What now did I want of 
 Madame de Berri ? What did I care for the richest 
 gifts of the Regent of France — for his favour and 
 patronage ? My love for Aurelie transcended all 
 which I once coveted, and for her I was ready to 
 give my life as the smallest and most humble offer- 
 ing on the altar of my repentance. But I must see 
 her first ; and then — and then — well, there remained 
 nothing to hope for save a short martyrdom, by the 
 favour of God, in the dungeon of the Chateau 
 Sainte Roxane. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE MARQUIS MAKES A CONFESSION 
 
 " M. DE Cheverny ! " 
 
 I swung swiftly round on my heel. It was the 
 voice of the Marquis de Merivale, and I scarce knew 
 whether I was glad or sorry that he had broken in 
 upon my sombre reflections. 
 
 "Yes, M. le Marquis ! " I said. 
 
 " I am come to borrow a horse of you," he re- 
 joined ; and then, for the first time, I noted the 
 deathly whiteness of his face. Monsieur was un- 
 doubtedly at war with fortune ; and an English- 
 man, however gay and debonair may be his soul, 
 takes bad luck with the devil of an ill grace. 
 
 " I trust you do not mean to desert Cheverny," I 
 said. 
 
 " That is my intention," he replied. 
 
 " Stay until Monseigneur the Regent has gone," 
 I suggested, '^ and Madame la Duchesse." 
 
 " I'll be damned if I do ! " he cried. 
 
 " M. le Marquis, you are either in trouble or in 
 
 love." 
 
 170 
 
THE MARQUIS MAKES A CONFESSION 171 
 
 " They are one and the same thing," Monsieur 
 answered. " I am tired of Cheverny, M. de Che- 
 verny, and I am weary of France. Will you lend 
 me a horse or no ? " 
 
 " I have only one," I said, " and I cannot spare 
 her, even to you." 
 
 *' There are a dozen in your stables ! " he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 ** They are not mine, M. le Marquis." 
 
 "Not yours?" he cried. "But all Cheverny is 
 in your hands! " 
 
 " Nay ! " I replied. " It is still Mademoiselle 
 Aurelie's. Go to her. Monsieur, and borrow as 
 many horses as you please. She is chatelaine 
 here." 
 
 His eyes widened in amazement. He took a few 
 short steps along the terrace, turned to me again, 
 and, to my intense surprise, offered his hand. 
 
 *' I have done you wrong, M. de Cheverny. I 
 have thought evil of you." 
 
 " Many have done the same," I remarked. 
 
 "Am I too late to ask your pardon?" he in- 
 quired. 
 
 " It is never too late to right a wrong, M. le Mar- 
 quis ; but I daresay in the past you have done well 
 in thinking me a very black scoundrel." 
 
 " I was mistaken " he hastened to admit. 
 
172 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Not altogether," I replied. " But what matter? 
 Monsieur has offered me his hand, and I have taken 
 it. Let the past die ! " 
 
 " Yes," he said. '' Let it die." 
 
 " Mademoiselle ma cousine will be sorry to lose 
 you," I ventured to suggest, and his face turned a 
 fine rich scarlet. 
 
 " I believe you to be a gentleman of honour," he 
 replied, in his old charming way. 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 " And therefore," M. le Marquis continued, ^* I 
 have no scruple in making you a confession." 
 
 I bowed again. 
 
 *' As Monsieur pleases," I observed. 
 
 " I came here to woo Mademoiselle Aurelie," he 
 announced. " The Chevalier and my father were 
 old friends, and they arranged that I should marry 
 her. I was quite willing." 
 
 My heart leaped, but I stayed silent, and out- 
 wardly calm. 
 
 The Marquis lowered his voice and proceeded : 
 
 " At my first words of love Mademoiselle laughed 
 in my face. I laughed too, — it is my characteristic 
 curse that no one takes me seriously, — but I had 
 by no means lost hope of winning her when you 
 arrived." 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur, and what then?" I said. 
 
THE MARQUIS MAKES A CONFESSION 173 
 
 " Everything went wrong from the time you 
 caught us cock-fighting in the chamber," he re- 
 turned. 
 
 *' I was an unwelcome guest to you all," I mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " Not to the Chevalier. You were his nephew — 
 you had grown up beneath the roof of his chateau ; 
 you were his brother's legacy to him, and blood is 
 thicker than wine, Monsieur. It was quite natural 
 he should receive you gladly." 
 
 " But you and Mademoiselle possessed sharper 
 eyes, M. le Marquis. You saw ' rogue ' written on 
 my face." 
 
 I could not resist a little thrill of malice in thus 
 throwing the bitterness of my reception in his 
 teeth, and the Marquis flushed again. 
 
 '' We agreed to let the past die," he quietly re- 
 marked. " M. de Cheverny, I have given up all in- 
 tention of pleading afresh for the hand of Mademoi- 
 selle Aurelie. As you, I presume, are acting some- 
 what as her guardian, it is only right that I should 
 tell you. So I leave for Paris at once, and shall 
 return to England within the month. If I could be 
 of service to Mademoiselle, I would stay. I would 
 wipe out my dishonour with my life, if 'twere possi- 
 ble to do so ! " 
 
 " Dishonour ! " I said. 
 
174 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 '* Yes, Monsieur, my dishonour — call it lack of loy- 
 alty if you will. Last night I made a declaration of 
 love to Madame la Duchesse de Berri. I forgot 
 Aurelie, I forgot that I had sworn to win her, and 
 Madame's fascination played the devil with me ! 
 There, M. de Cheverny, you have the truth ! " 
 
 ** And did Madame ?" I began. 
 
 *' Last night we were as lovers — to-day she laughs 
 at me," broke in the Marquis, with astonishing 
 passion. 
 
 '*Ah!"I said, and for the moment my breath 
 came fast. Pardieu ! what in Heaven's name would 
 happen next ? 
 
 "Yes, she laughs at me," he repeated. ''And 
 what do you think she told me. Monsieur ? — that 
 she was your promised wife — she, the daughter of 
 Philippe d'Orleans, Regent of France ! She whis- 
 pered it in my ear this morning when I met her in 
 the salon." 
 
 I could not speak — I was dumfounded at the 
 audacity of the incorrigible Duchesse. I should 
 not now have been surprised to hear that she had 
 made love to d'Anquital, and M. Maury de Saint- 
 Cloud, or even Dubois, in addition to the Marquis 
 de Merivale. Ciel, what a woman ! And to boast 
 openly that she was to become my wife ! Was she 
 playing v/ith my name for mere wanton malice, or 
 
THE MARQUIS MAKES A CONFESSION 175 
 
 had she in reality an occasional passion for me ? 
 God only knew ! 
 
 "Was Madame lying?" demajjded the Marquis. 
 
 " How can I say ? " I returned. 
 
 *' Honour is scarce among women ! " he observed, 
 with extreme bitterness. " There is none true — no, 
 not one ! " 
 
 " There is Mademoiselle Aurelie," I said. " M. le 
 Marquis, you have been frank to me ; I will now be 
 frank to you. Madame la Duchesse and I once ex- 
 changed vows ; but they are broken, and you are 
 free to win her love." 
 
 '' The love of Madame blossoms at night, and is 
 dead by the morning," he replied, ''When she 
 told me she was your betrothed, Monsieur, I could 
 have killed you." 
 
 I smiled. 
 
 " I know this feeling well, M. le Marquis. There 
 is Mademoiselle Aurelie at the window, and if you 
 insist on making your adieux, the present is an 
 excellent opportunity." 
 
 '' Good-day, Monsieur," he said ; and our hands 
 met again. I watched him enter the salon with a 
 brilliant effort at gaiety, and wondered what chance 
 I should have had of winning Mademoiselle if he 
 were my rival. I began to understand something 
 of Aurelie's pride — her reserve, her extraordinary 
 
176 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 independence. When d'Anquital thrust himself 
 into the chateau she called on me for aid ; when she 
 faced him in the salon it was I, and not the Mar- 
 quis, whom she named as her champion. 
 
 No; she did not fly to M. de Merivale. And 
 why? Because the intensity of her pride restrained 
 her from claiming the protection of the man who had 
 offered her his hand and fortune, and been repulsed ; 
 because M. le Marquis should not think that she 
 had changed her mind, and now desired his love — 
 that he should not think she was recognising in him 
 her one friend. It is true she called him while I held 
 the door on the night of M. le Chevalier's death ; 
 but as soon as she admitted my right to remain at 
 Cheverny, and owned me as the master, there were no 
 more appeals to the Marquis. And yet I could not 
 imagine any woman failing to fall in love with him. 
 
 I was by no means sure that Aurelie, far down in 
 her heart, had not sometimes wished to change pro- 
 tectors ; and as for Madame de Berri's fascination 
 — well, stronger men even than M. de Merivale had 
 succumbed to it. Madame's lovers were like moths 
 around a light — they were drawn by an almost 
 irresistible charm to her feet ; and I do not believe 
 that any woman in France possessed such a subtle 
 power to lure fools to her pleasure as the Grand 
 Duchesse of the Luxembourg. 
 
THE MARQUIS MAKES, A CONFESSION 177 
 
 In a little while I saw tw^o horsemen ride slowly- 
 down towards the village, and knew that the Eng- 
 lishman had kept his word, and was on his way 
 to Paris with his valet and his fighting-cocks. My 
 next thought wasof Silvain, and procuring food and 
 wine, I carefully descended to the little oratory, 
 unlocked the strong door, and looked in. He was 
 still slumbering. His muddy coat trailed the floor; 
 his shirt was torn and sodden by the Benicarlo he 
 had spilled over it, and his breeches were in rags. 
 I actually felt some sort of compassion towards the 
 wretch, and, securing the door, I stealthily fetched 
 some of my own clothes, and, shaking his shoulders, 
 forced him at last to arise and array himself in a 
 braided riding-jacket and a clean shirt. With my 
 assistance, he made a slovenly toilet, and drank 
 greedily from the wine flask ; but, although he recog- 
 nised he was in my power, Monsieur Silvain never 
 so much as opened his hps. 
 
 More than once I spoke to him. His only an- 
 swer was a sly leer ; and after a time, growing 
 thoroughly weary of his company, I backed again 
 towards the door, leaving him standing just under- 
 neath an old blurred painting of Cardinal de Che- 
 verny. Then, as I was leaving, I caught a glimpse 
 of his profile, and the peculiar resemblance between 
 
 us struck me afresh. Given my clear eyes and 
 12 
 
178 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 brown wear-and-tear face, instead of his own coars- 
 ened visage, and he might easily pass as the Vi- 
 comte de Championnet. I banged the door on him, 
 and he laughed. I little knew what that laugh 
 meant ; but there came an hour when I understood 
 it to the full. 
 
 I was fortunate enough to find Aurelie seated with 
 Madame Rochette in an anteroom of the salon. 
 Not a sign of the Regent, Dubois, or Madame la 
 Duchesse. And d'Anquital, where was he, with 
 the cross my red-hot rapier had marked upon 
 his brow? On glancing into the card-chamber the 
 previous night, I noticed that a great tangle of hair 
 was tumbling down almost to his closed, drunken 
 eyes ; and so, to hide the scar, he w^ould have to 
 wear it all his life; How the grandes dames of the 
 Palais-Royal would laugh on his return ! Sooner or 
 later the secret of that cross would leak out, and I 
 could realise that M. le Comte hated and loathed 
 me more than anyone in the whole world for thus 
 branding him, as one might brand a galley-slave, 
 with a mark which would last until his body became 
 dust. 
 
 " So we have lost M. le Marquis," I said, sunning 
 myself in Mademoiselle's smiles. 
 
 '' Yes, he was tired of Cheverny," she replied, and 
 Madame Rochette discreetly vacated her chair and 
 
THE MARQUIS MAKES A CONFESSION 179 
 
 retired to her boudoir. Madame knew little, but 
 she guessed much, and I owe her an eternal grati- 
 tude. 
 
 " Where is the Duchesse ? " I asked. 
 
 " With the rest of our guests," said Aurelie. 
 " Silvain, when shall we be rid of them ? " 
 
 " Soon," I returned. " Have patience. Mademoi- 
 selle ; have patience." 
 
 " They are now gone riding," she answered. 
 
 '' All of them ? " 
 
 " Yes, even M. de Saint-Cloud." 
 
 " He is probably in love with Madame la Du- 
 chesse," I observed, and Aurelie's eyes gleamed. 
 
 " You have not encountered Madame this morn- 
 ing? " I asked. 
 
 " Neither her nor the others," she returned. ** M. 
 le Comte d'Anquital has taken j^our horse. What 
 do you think of that. Monsieur ? " 
 
 '' Indeed ! " I said, my blood warming. 
 
 *' Did he ask your permission ? " 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 *' Why do they dare use Cheverny as though 
 'twere their own ? " cried Mademoiselle, with exqui- 
 site fire. " Why do you allow them ? " 
 
 '' One cannot sa}^ ' nay ' to the Regent of France," 
 I replied. 
 
 '' The grooms tell me they will be back in an 
 
i8o FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 hour," she said. *' I cannot meet them, Silvain. I 
 would rather work in the fields all my life as a peas- 
 ant-woman — I would rather die than remain in the 
 chateau another week ! Take me away ! " 
 
 '' You are overwrought," I said. " Come, Made- 
 moiselle, there are yet horses in the stables. Let 
 us ride together, and spend the day among the 
 woods. Perhaps some escape for you may suggest 
 itself. I had thought of M. Maury de Saint-Cloud's 
 chateau as a possible refuge during the rest of the 
 time Monseigneur will be here. But he leaves for 
 Paris on Saturday." 
 
 " And will Madame la Duchesse accompany him, 
 and Dubois, and M. le Comte ? " 
 
 *' Undoubtedly," I said. 
 
 " Then I will remain at Cheverny," she replied. 
 " I do not like M. de Saint-Cloud, and here, at least, 
 I shall be sure of your protection." 
 
 " Always, Mademoiselle," I answered, and she ran 
 off to array herself in the white and silver riding- 
 habit which suited her so charmingly. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 TRAGEDY 
 
 Ah, that day among the woods — were there ever 
 hours so sweet and yet so bitter ? To love Made- 
 moiselle with a love that was maddening — to ride 
 on and on at her side — to feel that she might at the 
 last be won, and yet to know my way led not to her, 
 but to one of the dungeons of the Chateau Sainte 
 Roxane. Sang Dieu, what a thought, and what a mis- 
 ery ! Yes, I was resolved to die : I was resolved to 
 give my life instead of the letters of conspiracy into 
 the hands of M. le Due d'Orleans. 
 
 Monseigneur, with characteristic generosity, had 
 pardoned Madame du Maine, and forgotten her first 
 intrigue : it was scarce likely he would be so merci- 
 ful a second time ; and if Madame suffered, others 
 must suffer too — perhaps Aurelie among them, 
 unless she consented to accompany M. le Due or 
 d'Anquital to the Palais-Royal. 
 
 I rode homeward almost in silence. Sometimes 
 
 Mademoiselle rallied me on my reticent gloom : 
 
 sometimes she strove to fetch a smile to my lips by 
 
 a fiash of her ready wit ; but I knew her gaiety was 
 
 forced, and so great a coward had I become that 
 
 i8i 
 
i82 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 when the lights of Cheverny twinkled through the 
 pearly mists of evening I was still powerless to tell 
 her that ere long I must leave her to fight the battle 
 of life alone. 
 
 More than once I was tempted to break my word 
 of honour to the Regent, and to compel Mademoi- 
 selle to fly with me ; more than once I swore to 
 ignore my sacred oath to Madame la Duchesse ; but 
 then the old pride swelled up again in my heart, and 
 I determined to be true. No, neither the Regent 
 nor Madame should say I could not keep a promise, 
 and, however base they proved, however faithless, 
 I would show them that I was not unworthy of the 
 name of de Championnet. I would pay the whole 
 penalty : I would wipe out all the stains on my 
 honour with whatever punishment God might choose, 
 even though it were a loathsome death in the Cha- 
 teau Sainte Roxane ! 
 
 And so, in perfect silence, Aurelie and I alighted 
 from our saddles and ascended to the terrace. We 
 were met by Monseigneur's valet with a request 
 from the Regent that we would join him at lans- 
 quenet in the card-chamber at eight o'clock. 
 
 I looked at Mademoiselle. She was watching me, 
 and the next moment I had made up my mind. 
 
 "Tell Monseigneur that Mademoiselle de Che- 
 verny and I will be there," I said ; and the lacquey 
 slipped away to his master, leaving me to the re- 
 proaches of Aurelie. 
 
TRAGEDY 183 
 
 " I thought you would have replied * No,' " she 
 began. " How can I meet those men and Madame 
 la Duchesse ? " 
 
 '' Mademoiselle, it would not have been politic to 
 refuse," I urged. " BeHeve me, I know best." 
 
 " I cannot understand it all," she said,'' and some- 
 times, Silvain, I doubt you, even now." 
 
 In my misery I bit my lips until they bled. 
 
 " Your behaviour has been so strange," she con- 
 tinued, her voice growing sharp and hard. 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle," I replied. 
 
 " And you are so afraid of the Regent." 
 
 '' For your sake alone," I said ; and then, to my 
 surprise, she burst into a great flood of tears and 
 ran away up the stairs. When God created woman 
 He placed beside man the greatest puzzle that 
 ever He made, and I knew not whether Aurelie 
 was angry, sad, or sorry; but at eight o'clock, 
 when I emerged from my room, I found her 
 waiting for me at some little distance from the 
 card-chamber, and we entered together under the 
 insolent blaze of Madame la Duchesse de Bern's 
 eyes. 
 
 " A pair of truants ! " laughed Monseigneur, as I 
 made my bow ; " but where is the third ? " 
 
 " Your Highness means M. le Marquis de Meri- 
 vale?" I said, seating myself by M. de Saint- 
 Cloud. "Well, by this time he should be Hearing 
 Paris." 
 
i84 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 Madame's face was a storm. 
 
 '' Nearing Paris ? " exclaimed the Regent. 
 
 " He had grown weary of Cheverny," I returned, 
 with a wicked thrill in my heart. It was good 
 sport to watch the Duchesse. 
 
 " But he possessed not even the manners to make 
 his adieux," said Monseigneur. 
 
 '• Save to Mademoiselle, M. le Due, and to me," 
 and my glance wandered again to the face of 
 Madame. It was now a picture of serenity, and if 
 the Duchesse ever experienced the ill-fortune of 
 being driven from the Luxembourg into the streets, 
 she would never starve while she remained so great 
 an actress. 
 
 Aurelie, at M. I'Abbe's invitation, took a chair at 
 a lansquenet table, and with exquisite abandon 
 commenced to deal the cards. All her reserve had 
 gone, she was brilliant and fascinating to a perfectly 
 alarming degree, and Monseigneur, Dubois, and M. 
 de Saint-Cloud clustered round her with a shower 
 of light flattery that might have turned the head of 
 a woman less mistress of her heart and her will. 
 She bandied words with M. le Due, she hid her 
 laughing face at a most indelicate jest of the disrep- 
 utable Abbe, and when M. de Saint-Cloud would 
 have claimed the privilege of an old friend and 
 kissed her fingers. Mademoiselle snatched them 
 away and presented his lips with the fringe of her 
 fan. 
 
TRAGEDY 185 
 
 I looked at Madame la Duchesse, and she sur- 
 veyed me in silence, and then I noticed that d'An- 
 quital was not in the chamber. Had he, too, flown 
 from Cheverny ? I crossed the room and took a 
 seat by Madame's side. She was half reclining on 
 the taffeta lounge, and I never saw her look more 
 splendid — more bewitching. She was in purple to- 
 night : her hair was thick with jewels, and as she 
 lazily moved her fan I could feel its perfume on my 
 face, while now and then her languorous eyes would 
 open to their fullest brilliance, hold mine for an 
 instant chained, and slowly close again until one 
 might think she slept. 
 
 Aurelie and her illustrious partners were playing 
 lansquenet with a wild warmth ; the laughter grew 
 with the slapping of the cards upon the table, and 
 the chink-chink of the gold, and I began to be 
 afraid of Mademoiselle — I began to dread that she 
 was intoxicated by a pleasure which would draw 
 her away to Paris, and to the life which must inevi- 
 tably accompany her presence at the Palais-Royal. 
 Monseigneur was a charming lover, and there were 
 few women in France who would care to resist the 
 attentions of the Regent — fewer still who would 
 scorn him. 
 
 Again and again my glance stole off to the lithe, 
 swaying figure of Aurelie de Cheverny, as she reck- 
 lessly bent now towards one, then towards another 
 of the players, — again and again I shivered at the 
 
i86 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 sound of their laughter, and at last Madame de 
 Berri touched my arm. 
 
 " What is the matter with you, M. le Vicomte ? " 
 she whispered. 
 
 I instinctively recoiled from her. 
 
 " Nothing, Madame," I replied. 
 
 " Have you forgotten me altogether ? " she in- 
 quired, in a still softer voice. 
 
 '' There are some things one can never forget," 
 I said. 
 
 " Ah," she returned, " but to-morrow, Vi- 
 comte " 
 
 " What then, Duchesse? " I asked. 
 
 *' You will redeem your promise," she murmured, 
 '' and I " 
 
 *' Yes, Madame," I breathed, with intense appre- 
 hension. *' And you " 
 
 " I shall be yours, she said, in a voice so low that 
 it scarcely reached my ears. 
 
 '* But, Madame, you do not love me," I replied. 
 " You openly scorned me before M. le Comte d'An- 
 quital." 
 
 *' Oh, the poor Comte ! " she whispered. *' He 
 is mad for love of me ! But can I help that, Mon- 
 sieur ? Can I be blamed if a hundred men come of 
 their own free-will to kiss my feet ? " 
 
 '' They do not always content themselves with 
 kissing your feet, Duchesse. They seek your lips, 
 and sometimes find them." 
 
TRAGEDY 187 
 
 " Vicomte ! you are insufferable ! You have 
 quarrelled with M. le Comte, and that is what has 
 made you so bitter." 
 
 '' The truth is often unpalatable, Madame. I 
 wish no ill to M. d'Anquital." 
 
 ** You have fought him already," she said, with a 
 woman's shrewdness. " Why does he wear his hair 
 over his eyes ? You have fought him, Monsieur, 
 and your sword has hurt his brow. There, I have 
 guessed aright, and you cannot deny it." 
 
 *' There is no woman in the world save one, worth 
 the shedding of a man's blood," I returned, and the 
 Duchesse touched my arm again, almost caressingly. 
 
 " I am yours — always," she whispered. ** But 
 you must not have another duel with M. le Comte 
 about me. Go and make friends with him. He is 
 somewhere on the terrace or in the salon." 
 
 ''Thirsting for my life," I lightly replied, and I 
 could have laughed to think how Madame was de- 
 ceived in me : how she imagined I was still within 
 her power : how she was convinced that d'Anquital 
 and I had fought in a mad rivalry for her love. 
 
 " Why did M. le Marquis de Merivale leave so 
 suddenly?" she asked, after a dreamy soliloquy. 
 
 " Madame la Duchesse knows best," I answered. 
 *' Sacre ! what is that ? " 
 
 I sprang to my feet. Madame's face turned white 
 as snow. The card-players had arisen, and the 
 lansquenet table lay on the floor, the rich violet 
 
i88 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 carpet shimmering with scattered gold, when the 
 cry came a second time, and trailed off into a loud, 
 sharp scream. Then silence fell. I flung open the 
 window, and looked down upon the terrace. The 
 night was black and moonless, but the red light that 
 streamed through one of the great lattices of the 
 salon showed me the low marble balustrade, and 
 just at the foot of one of the thick pillars, two dark, 
 intertwined forms. 
 
 " Mort Christ ! " I gasped, and leaving the card- 
 chamber, I ran down the stairs, raced through the 
 salon, and, followed by half-a-dozen frightened 
 lacqueys, tore open a window and stepped out upon 
 the terrace, calling for candles. 
 
 Breath of France ! and w^hat a sight met my eyes ! 
 There at my feet lay Silvain de Cheverny, his hands 
 and feet fastened to the throat of M. le Comte 
 d'Anquital, whose awful face told me he had died 
 the death of a strangled wolf. His stiff fingers still 
 clutched a sword, bloodied at the point ; and by the 
 little red stream that trickled down de Cheverny's 
 back, I knew he had been stabbed from behind by 
 M. le Comte's rapier. Then, in an instant, the 
 whole tragedy flashed upon me. Silvain must have 
 escaped from the Cardinal's oratory and made his 
 way to the terrace, thinking, no doubt, to give me 
 the devil's own fright, or, better still, to ent^r the 
 chateau and spring a mine on me in the presence of 
 Aurelie. Now I understood his leer and mocking 
 
TRAGEDY 189 
 
 laugh; I saw that he, and not I, held the cards 
 since the moment I locked him in the chamber, and 
 he only remained there to await the most favourable 
 opportunity of walking round to the salon and sur- 
 prising me by a masterly coup d'etat. 
 
 Some secret exit from the oratory was known to 
 him, and he was stealing along the corridor, gloat- 
 ing o'er his plans, when d'Anquital, nursing his 
 hatred forme well back in the shadow of the chateau, 
 thought that 'twas I who came, and was unashamed 
 to settle scores by playing the despicable assassin. I 
 wondered who had screamed : it might have been 
 Silvain, but I would sooner think it was M. le 
 Comte, when de Cheverny made his spring, with the 
 life-blood rippling from his back, and fixed his teeth 
 as fast as a hound on d'Anquital's throat. 
 
 My thoughts stunned m.e as I snatched a gutter- 
 ing candle from a lacquey and bent down to take 
 my last long look at them both, and M. le Comte's 
 face was horrifying enough to give me bad dreams 
 for a month. When I raised my head again Mon- 
 seigneur the Regent, accompanied by the rest, was 
 stepping out of the salon, and in a moment Madame's 
 little white slippers were wet with the blood that 
 ran from Silvain's wound to race around her feet. 
 
 " Mille diables ! " cried Dubois, forgetting all 
 caution. " It is Silvain de Cheverny ! " And M. 
 le Due echoed his words. 
 
 " Silvain de Cheverny ! " It was the voice of Ma- 
 
190 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 demoiselle Aurelie, and her face was enough to scare 
 even a ghost ; while the Duchesse, completely losing 
 command of her wits, burst into a sudden peal of 
 hysterical laughter — laughter that made me thrill. 
 For the instant I think Madame went mad, and I 
 shall never forget her eyes as they clung with an 
 awful fascination to the faces of de Cheverny and 
 M. le Comte ; and when a long-drawn sob from 
 Aurelie forced me to glance round, I saw her reel 
 back against the balustrade with both hands clasped 
 across her brow. Then she swept past us into the 
 salon with a magnificent calmness which appalled 
 me. I followed her in the wake of Dubois and 
 Monseigneur, who led Madame la Duchesse by the 
 hand, and then, motioning the lacqueys and M. de 
 Saint-Cloud away, the Regent closed the window. 
 
 It seemed to me that silence reigned for hours, 
 and I give you my word that I trembled in my 
 shoes. But soon the old courage came flooding 
 back again — I had thrown my last card, and the 
 game was up, so there was nothing left but to face 
 Aurelie, the Duchesse, and M. le Due d'Orleans, 
 and to face them well I 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 DE CHAMPIONNET PLAYS THE MAN 
 
 AURELIE was the first to break the silence. 
 
 '' Monsieur, if Silvain de Cheverny lies dead on 
 the terrace, who are you ? " she demanded, in a 
 voice that was clear and cold as ice. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," I replied, " I am the Vicomte 
 de Championnet ! " 
 
 It was as though a bomb had fallen in the salon. 
 Monseigneur let off a string of oaths : M. I'Abbe's 
 blasphemy was loud enough to rattle up to heaven, 
 and Madame de Berri flung herself back in a seat 
 with the word ** Fool ! fool!" ringing again and 
 again from her lips. 
 
 And Aurelie stood by the hearth, white and calm, 
 gazing at me with a look that was terrible. 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Cheverny," I said, " I came to 
 
 the chateau in the guise of your cousin that I might 
 
 worm from the Chevalier some secrets relating to a 
 
 certain intrigue which M. le Due imagined had been 
 
 fostered by Cardinal Alberoni and the Duchesse du 
 
 Maine. You know how I succeeded ? " 
 
 *' To my cost, Monsieur," she replied. 
 
 191 
 
192 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 I felt my blood growing colder, but I did not flinch. 
 "You are now beyond even my hatred," con- 
 tinued Aurelie. '' You are more base than M. le 
 Comte d'Anquital." 
 
 "You lash me cruelly, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " And how have you served me, M. le Vicomte ? 
 How have you kept faith ? I will not curse you, 
 God will do that : but my onty hope is this. Mon- 
 sieur, that every night you will be haunted by 
 visions of those whom you have played false ; that 
 you will see them wending their way to the dungeon 
 or the scaffold, and feel that you, and you alone, 
 sent them to their fate. And what will Madame du 
 Maine now think of her Bayard ? You were not 
 killed in the duel near Pontigny after all — that, too, 
 was a trick to blind our eyes ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle, I knew Silvain de Cheverny 
 was coming to the chateau. I waylaid him on the 
 road, and left him for dead. I took his clothes and 
 his rings, and deceived you ; and there is little need 
 for me to say more. All was going well until Sil- 
 vain re-appeared, and I was forced to make him 
 drunk that I might hide him from you." 
 
 *' And where did you hide him ? " she asked. 
 
 " In the oratory," I replied. " I locked him in." 
 
 She laughed mirthlessly. 
 
 " Did you know that behind the Cardinal's por- 
 trait there was a secret exit from the chateau ? Ah ! 
 I see you were duped, M. le Vicomte, and that M. le 
 
DE CHAMPIONNET PLAYS THE MAN 193 
 
 Comte d'AnquItal unwittingly killed Silvain instead 
 of you. I wish he had made no such mistake ; it 
 was you who most deserved death." 
 
 I bowed my head. 
 
 "And what of the letters?" she asked. '' Have 
 you not given them to the Regent ? " 
 
 " No, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Blood of the Saints ! " cried Dubois. '' Are they, 
 then, in your possession ? " 
 
 "Yes, M. I'Abbe," I answered; and pulling out 
 the little packet from my breast, I held it to his gaze 
 and to the gaze of the Duchesse and M. le Due 
 d'Orleans. Their amazement was something inde- 
 scribable. Dubois made a snatch at the letters, and 
 was thrust reeling aside : Monseigneur caught the 
 fierce flash of my eye, and refrained from an ad- 
 vance ; and Madame, with an emotional exuberance 
 which startled me, rose from her seat, and, falling on 
 her knees, pressed her pretty lips to my hand. 
 
 " Audran ! " she said, " you have triumphed — you 
 have won them after all. Give them to me, my 
 love, my king ! " 
 
 I looked down on her and smiled. 
 
 "Madame, they are not mine to give 1 " 
 
 " Not yours ? " she cried. " Not yours ? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " demanded the Regent. 
 
 "Monsieur is playing the fox!" murmured 
 Dubois, and I saw that Aurelie was watching me 
 like a woman in a dream. 
 13 
 
194 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " Why prolong my torture, M, de Championnet ? " 
 she asked. " Yield the letters to Monseigneur or 
 the Duchesse, and then your work will be done. 
 You will receive your blood-money, and be satisfied 
 — you will also, I daresay, receive Madame's caress, 
 and win a place amid her many loves." 
 
 " Mademoiselle ! " exclaimed the Duchesse, spring- 
 ing to her feet. " Mort Christ, you shall pay for 
 this ! " But Aurelie's only answer was to turn her 
 back upon the daughter of the Regent of France, 
 and then, before ever I could avoid her embrace, 
 Madame had flung her arms around my neck and 
 was hanging to my breast. But I saw the flash of 
 malice in her splendid eyes — I sav^ the glance of 
 supreme triumph that she cast towards Mademoi- 
 selle, and in a moment I knew the gay Duchesse 
 was spinning around me the coils of her inimitable 
 wiles in a desperate attempt to madden Aurelie de 
 Cheverny, and to draw me back to my old allegiance 
 to herself. 
 
 Yes, Madame was an extraordinary woman, and 
 the closer she clung to me the nearer her fingers 
 were creeping to the letters of conspiracy which, up 
 to the present, I had warily held out of her reach. 
 
 Aurelie had turned again to watch us, Dubois 
 stood with his back to the door, and M. le Due v/as 
 content to await the issue of Madame's diplomacy. 
 But it was Mademoiselle, and not the Duchesse, who 
 hastened the end. 
 
DE CHAMPIONNET PLAYS THE MAN 195 
 
 "So it was you who tempted M. le Vicomte to 
 betray us ! " she cried. 
 
 Madame's great eyes opened lazily. 
 
 *' I, Mademoiselle? " she replied, attempting to 
 draw my face down to hers. "And why not? I 
 have promised to become the wife of M. de Cham- 
 pionnet." 
 
 I tore her white arms from my neck and thrust 
 her away from me. 
 
 " It is a lie ! " I cried. " I swear it, by God and 
 His Holy Mother ! " 
 
 The salon grew so still that there was no sound to 
 be heard but the flames of the fire, which leapt up- 
 ward with a noise like the loud beating of many 
 hearts, and in the midst of this great calm I dropped 
 on my knee and stretched out the letters to Made- 
 moiselle Aurelie. 
 
 " Take them back ! " I said ; and m)^ voice was 
 as hoarse as that of a crow. " Take them back, and 
 forget me. Mademoiselle ! This is all I ask. I was 
 strong in temptation ; but I am stronger in my re- 
 morse — and if death will pay the forfeit, then I am 
 ready to die? " 
 
 I do not think Aurelie heard my last words, but 
 with a low, throbbing cry she snatched the letters 
 from my hand, and tearing through the seals, began 
 to throw them one by one into the fire. 
 
 " Stop her, Dubois ! quick, quick, fool of an 
 Abb^ ! " cried the Regent, but I whipped out my 
 
196 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 sword on the instant and faced them both. Mon- 
 selgneur's blade was already bare, and he came at 
 me with a succession of thrusts which I foiled in my 
 easiest manner, and Dubois, making a rush upon 
 Mademoiselle, received a blow from my foot that 
 sent him rolling towards Madame de Berri ; but when 
 the Duchesse herself passionately leapt forward, 
 I was forced to lower my point that it might not 
 stain her white bosom with her blood. And Sang 
 Dieu, to hear Madame swear ! I snatched at her 
 arm, but she swept free, and sprang like a beautiful 
 tigress upon Mademoiselle de Cheverny. 
 
 Too late ! Aurelie had flung the last letter to the 
 thirsty flames, and all Madame could do in her in- 
 tense fury was to stamp her little foot, and then 
 before one might guess her intention she struck 
 Mademoiselle fiercely on the face. Her rings cut 
 Aurelie's cheek, and I held my breath, anticipating 
 such a scene as had never before stirred the chateau ; 
 but instead of bursting into a maddening torrent of 
 fury. Mademoiselle calmly wiped away the blood, 
 her eyes hard and bright as diamonds, and catching 
 Madame's wTist, drew her close and whispered in her 
 ear. 
 
 The Duchesse gave a light ringing laugh, and I 
 knew something great was going to happen, for there 
 is generally the devil to pay when two such women 
 as Madame la Duchesse and Aurelie de Cheverny 
 throw down the challenge. 
 
DE CHAMPIONNET PLAYS THE MAN 197 
 
 With superb hauteur, Madame de Berri quitted 
 the salon, scarce deigning to flash me a look, and 
 Monseigneur, sheathing his rapier, prepared to follow 
 her. He was quivering with passion, and I knew 
 that this burning of the Cardinal's letters had roused 
 him from his usual geniality into something like 
 relentless rage. 
 
 " To-morrow, M. le Vicomte, you will prepare for 
 an incarceration in the Chateau Roxane ! " he said, 
 with a savage glance at me. 
 
 I bowed my head, and Dubois, standing on tiptoe, 
 began to whisper fresh devilry into his ear. Peste ! 
 how I loathed the wretch ! 
 
 M. le Due smiled. 
 
 *' M. I'Abbe is right," he said. ''You deserve 
 nothing better than the Frog dungeon, M. de Cham- 
 pionnet." 
 
 I could scarcely repress a shudder. 
 
 "The Frog dungeon, Monseigneur?" I cried. 
 " Mon Dieu, anything but that ! " 
 
 " You have played me false, and shall pay my 
 price," he returned ; " and, mark you, Monsieur, I 
 mean to make you die the death of a traitor to his 
 country and his word I " 
 
 " Better that than a traitor to my heart ! " I bit- 
 terly exclaimed, and M. le Due laughed low. 
 
 *' Of what sanctity is the heart of Audran de 
 Champlonnet ? " he said. '' Vicomte, I will waste 
 no more words on you. Retire to your chamber 
 
198 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 within an hour, and consider yourself on parole 
 until a file of soldiers appears to escort you to the 
 Chateau Sainte Roxane. And when next you em- 
 bark on an emprise, Monsieur, it will be towards 
 Purgatory, so prepare yourself for that ! " 
 
 He went out, followed by the Abbe, the door 
 banged, and I was left alone with Madem.oiselle 
 Aurelie. On the broad terrace lay the dead bodies 
 of Silvain and of M. le Comte d'Anquital, and I 
 could hear the whisperings of the wind among the 
 trees which fringed the parterre, as though it had 
 come to sing to them a song of death. 
 
 It is ever thus : he who would live must die, and 
 he who would die must live to sufTer ; and life, at 
 the best, is but the veriest lottery. So 'tis well to 
 be gay at all times ; but if you cannot be gay, be 
 strong ; and if you cannot be strong, pray that a 
 woman may fetch some light to your eyes and some 
 fire to your soul, for there is no buckler in the world 
 like a woman's love ! 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 LOVE OR HONOUR 
 
 *' M. LE ViCOMTE is silent," said Aurelie ; and 
 my first impulse was to cover my face with my 
 hands. I feared a repetition of her bitter reproach, 
 and, by my soul's salvation, I would rather have 
 blown out my brains than have been forced to 
 endure another lash of her scorn ; but when after a 
 time I took courage and stole a glance across the 
 salon, there was Mademoiselle gazing at me with 
 the saddest and most 'witching smile that ever 
 shone on woman's face. 
 
 She was paler even than I, and I saw that the 
 hem of her frock was crimsoned here and there 
 where it had swept along the terrace over Silvain's 
 running blood. The lacqueys were removing the 
 bodies, for I could hear the shufifiing of their feet, 
 and we both stood listening until the tramp, tramp 
 had died away. 
 
 M. le Due d'Orleans had given me an hour's 
 
 grace, and I meant to spend it in making my peace 
 
 with Aurelie before I said farewell to her for ever. 
 
 More than once I tried to begin, but my tongue 
 
 199 
 
200 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 was tied, and I could not speak. The salon stifled 
 me ; but at last my heart found words, and I poured 
 out my confession like a torrent to Mademoiselle, 
 who stood all the time leaning motionless against 
 the low massive mantel, and two great candles in 
 silver sconces shed a red light o'er her face and 
 shoulders. Her eyes were incomparable — some- 
 times they would brighten, sometimes they would 
 flash, and once I saw the tears sparkling like little 
 jets of crystal on her lashes. There were moments 
 when I thought she trembled, and grew whiter even 
 than snow ; but she stayed mute until I had told 
 my tale from my interview with Monseigneur at the 
 Luxembourg up to the hour of the tragedy on the 
 terrace, withholding only the incident of my keep- 
 ing her from the chamber while M. le Chevalier 
 drew his last breath. No ; I had felt no power to 
 lay that shameful act before her judgment. I kept 
 that crowning sin deep in the depths of my soul, 
 lest she should call on God to curse me. 
 
 Many were the nights I had waked with a start, 
 thinking I heard her voice cursing my name, and 
 sleep was gone from me until the morn ; and even 
 now in my dreams I sometimes hear that cry. 
 Some day God may let me forget ; but the least 
 thing a scoundrel can do is to pay for his iniquity ; 
 and though I was never the man to sing " Gloria in 
 excelsis " when fate ran hard against me, or wel- 
 come the devil's own luck with a loud " Te Deum," 
 
LOVE OR HONOUR 201 
 
 I had always received life's ironies with a gay sang- 
 froid which had invariably braced me to carry my 
 cross with a shrug and a laugh. But to-night, in 
 Mademoiselle's presence, I was no better than a 
 coward. 
 
 Piece by piece I had unfolded my baseness and 
 dishonour, striving neither to hide my rascality, nor 
 to gloss over my shame, and Aurelie heard me 
 without flinching to the end. 
 
 "Is that all?" she asked, her eyes half closed; 
 and then of a sudden I resolved to drain my cup to 
 the dregs. 
 
 '' No, Mademoiselle," I said ; " there is one thing 
 more. M. le Chevalier did not die at my hands, 
 but I was in the chamber all the while. I locked 
 the door lest you should enter, and stayed by the 
 bed until his life had ebbed. Yes, I was there while 
 he called your name ; I was there when you an- 
 swered him, and beat the door with your hands ; I 
 was there while he cursed me, and while you cried, 
 'Open the door, Silvain ! ' and called me a devil. 
 Mademoiselle, he had discovered that I was not 
 Silvain de Cheverny, and rather than let him shout 
 the truth into your ears, I was ready to sacrifice all 
 the peace which your presence might have brought 
 him while he lay in extremis, to my own unpardon- 
 able villainy. So I stayed there till the end, and 
 then escaped by the lattice before the Marquis and 
 your lacqueys broke in the door, to find M, le 
 
202 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 Chevalier had gasped his last breath. Whether 
 you believed all my lies when I encountered you 
 afterwards in the salon, I cannot say, but now you 
 know how base a rascal T have been, and can judge 
 me from my own condemnation. I cannot hope 
 you will forgive ; I cannot hope you will forget, 
 though I would give my body and soul for one 
 single word of pity or of pardon ! Mademoi- 
 selle . . ." 
 
 My voice was a prayer. Aurelie's head was 
 turned aside, and her face w^as hidden from me, but 
 long ere she spoke I knew my fate would be in 
 accordance with my deserts. Her answer came in a 
 whisper — so sharp and intense that the sweat broke 
 out on my brow, and I — yes, even I, de Champion- 
 net, the duellist and the scoundrel, trembled as 
 though I were standing before my God at the last 
 Great Day. 
 
 " I can never forget ; I can never forgive. I have 
 neither pardon nor pity. Monsieur, for Christ's 
 sake leave me, that I may see you no more ! " 
 
 I stood in silence, her clear words cutting into my 
 heart like a sword ; then Mademoiselle suddenly 
 swayed, lost her hold on the mantel, and sunk down 
 in a swoon before ever I could spring forward to 
 catch her in my arms. I stooped, pressed my cold 
 lips to her little clenched hand, and, neither heeding 
 nor caring whither I went, thrust open a heavy lat- 
 tice and stepped out upon the terrace. 
 
LOVE OR HONOUR 203 
 
 Snow was again falling, and the magnificent facade 
 of the chateau was already plastered by the thick 
 flakes that shot like feathery arrows through the 
 blackness of the night ; but I went down into the 
 parterre like a man in a dream, and wandered to 
 and fro amid the naked trees and the beds which in 
 springtime were bright with many flowers. 
 
 My heart was dead. Mademoiselle Aurelie had 
 given me my coup de grace, and the reckless joy of 
 life, with its old charm of wine and cards, war and 
 women, was gone from me for ever. Had God 
 smitten me blind in the midst of my despair, I would 
 not have cared a curse,— had He struck me dead, I 
 would have blessed Him ; but it is man's unwritten 
 fate that he shall pay through the heart for the sins 
 of his head and hand. 
 
 Another day, and I should be in the Chateau 
 Sainte Roxane ; but what would become of Made- 
 moiselle ? Ah, the thought that M. le Due d'Orleans 
 might yet draw a net around her feet stung me 
 again. I saw her accompanying him to the Palais- 
 Royal, or Versailles. I pictured her surrounded by 
 all the brilliance and vice of Paris, to be drawn at 
 last into the inevitable whirlpool ; and though the 
 snow came tumbling down in great white clouds, and 
 spread like a shroud over the chateau and the valley 
 below, I continued to pace the parterre with a brain 
 and heart of fire. Aurelie had driven me out of her 
 presence, and I could not go back, so I stayed in the 
 
204 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 silent gardens until my hour of grace was nearly 
 gone. 
 
 *' M. de Championnet ! " 
 
 I started, and then the whisper came again — a 
 little louder, a little more distinct — and I saw a 
 shadowy figure flit out from a double fringe of al- 
 mond-trees that bordered the parterre. 
 
 " M. de Championnet ! " 
 
 "Who is there?" I answered, and my teeth 
 were clashing like castanets. 
 
 " It is I — Aurelie de Cheverney." 
 
 '' Mon Grand Dieu ! " I gasped, and then, 'fore 
 ever I could catch my breath, Mademoiselle's fingers 
 were sinking deeply into my soft, wet sleeve. 
 
 " M. le Vicomte," she whispered, " I awoke from 
 my swoon, and I was alone. I have come to you 
 again ; " and I swear I cannot say how it happened, 
 but of a sudden her hands slid into mine, and though 
 the snow fell with pitiless persistency through the 
 dark vault of night, I seemed to see her eyes shining 
 up at me as if their light could never fade. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, you have no business here," I 
 murmured. ''You will catch your death of chill, 
 and, by Saint Aignan, you wear neither cloak nor 
 hat." 
 
 '' It does not matter. My heart is warm," she 
 replied. " Why did you leave me, Monsieur ? " 
 
 " I was scorned, Mademoiselle, and you drove me 
 from your sight." 
 
LOVE OR HONOUR 205 
 
 *' How little you understand women," she an- 
 swered. 
 
 '' They are sometimes beyond comprehension," I 
 said. " Have you come to wound me afresh ? " 
 
 ^' No," she murmured. " When my strength re- 
 turned and I found you had left the salon, I thought 
 you had flown from the chateau, and from me." 
 
 *' I should have done so, Mademoiselle, were I 
 not a prisoner." 
 
 '' I haunted the terrace time after time, and I 
 think I should have killed myself, M. le Vicomte, 
 had I failed to find you." 
 
 ''Why?" I asked, with my heart at a standstill. 
 
 '' Because you have been my friend, as well as my 
 enemy ; and a faithful friend, Monsieur, is the 
 rarest gift in the world." 
 
 "You call me friend!" I exclaimed. "You, 
 Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Hush ! " she said. " Why not, M. le Vicomte ? " 
 
 " And trust me ? " I asked. 
 
 " Have I not already proved my faith ? " 
 
 " But I deceived you." 
 
 " Yes," she said. 
 
 " And lied to you." 
 
 " Many times," she replied. 
 
 " And played the rascal to the very hilt of ini- 
 quity." 
 
 " For the sake of the Duchesse ! " said Mademoi- 
 selle, " and I wish you joy of her. Monsieur ! " 
 
2o6 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 I was dumb. How full of the devil's own shrewd- 
 ness are women ! Aurelie had seen through me at 
 last, and my heart was laid bare. '' For the sake of 
 the Duchesse ! " Ma foi ! she was right, and from 
 beginning to end Madame de Berri was answerable 
 for the whole counterplot which had brought me to 
 act the scoundrel's part with such conspicuous ability 
 and extraordinary results. She had pushed me into 
 the fire, and now would laugh to watch me burn, 
 while Mademoiselle de Cheverny helped to pay the 
 piper. Aurelie's hands still lay in mine, and the 
 snow was growing so thick that I would have given 
 worlds to make her take shelter on my breast. We 
 were both clad in white from head to foot ; but 
 through the flakes I could see her eyes gleaming 
 like diamonds, and a prettier sight was never seen 
 out of Heaven. 
 
 '' Mademoiselle," I said, " you told me you could 
 never forgive and forget what I had done — what I 
 had been. You could not even pity me. Yet you 
 have come and put your hands in mine. Is it be- 
 cause I am pardoned at last? " 
 
 But Aurelie would make no answer, and I knew 
 that she was trembling from head to foot. 
 
 '' My time is short," I urged, '' and we shall never 
 meet again." 
 
 Mademoiselle's fingers tightened on my hands. 
 
 " You will not leave me ? " she whispered. '' Mon- 
 sieur, stay ! " and I knew at last that although she 
 
LOVE OR HONOUR 207 
 
 might not ever forget my past, she must, in God's 
 own day, forgive. She had flown to me from the 
 salon of her own free will. She had prayed me to 
 remain at her side ; but Fate, inexorable as Death, 
 called me back again from hope, and life, and the 
 promise of love to the dungeons of the Chateau 
 Sainte Roxane. In a few moments the clock of the 
 old tower would strike, and afterwards would fall 
 the shadow. So I steeled myself for the end. 
 
 " 'Tis a night of farewell. Mademoiselle," I said, 
 and, loosening my hands, I knelt all at once to kiss 
 her feet. They were sunk deep in the snow, but I 
 thought it no humility to search for them with my 
 cold lips. I could hear Aurelie's sharp breathing, 
 and that and the quick shivering of the loaded trees 
 were the only sounds which cut the strained, tense 
 stillness of the night. Then I rose again, and Ma- 
 demoiselle, gazing at me with the snow beating 
 down upon her face, tossed back her little head 
 with the most inimitable charm, to drink from my 
 eyes a love that was infinite. Her frock was soaked 
 through and through, and the snow upon her neck 
 was melting into a million crystals, which ran over 
 her warm bosom like live gems. Her hair was as 
 though 'twere sprinkled with diamonds, and had I 
 dared I would have scattered them with my lips 
 and crushed her lithe sparkling body in my arms ; 
 but between us lay the sword of Death, and I bent 
 to kiss her hands for the last time, and to murmur a 
 
2o8 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 soft farewell. Ah, the bitterness of that parting ! 
 I do not think Mademoiselle could have listened to 
 M. le Due's threats when he doomed me to the 
 Frog dungeon of the Chateau Sainte Roxane. She 
 could not have heeded the dread significance of my 
 incarceration, for when I turned to leave her she 
 again besought me with tears to stay. 
 
 '' Nay, Mademoiselle, I must go," I answered. 
 
 " Whither, M. le Vicomte?" she said, in a voice 
 that was almost inaudible. 
 
 ** To the Chateau Sainte Roxane," I replied, and 
 I heard her sob twice or thrice with an intensity 
 which maddened me. 
 
 ** You are going to give your life for my sake, 
 and for the sake of the Cardinal's letters," she 
 panted. " You have saved Madame la Duchessedu 
 Maine and the rest of us poor foolish intriguing 
 women, by letting me burn those papers of con- 
 spiracy. Even the Regent of France cannot throw 
 us into the Bastille without some proof of our guilt ; 
 but you. Monsieur, are paying for all — you are on 
 your way towards Death, and I have sent you there. 
 Mother of Christ, have mercy, have mercy ! M. le 
 Vicomte, you shall not go the Chateau Sainte 
 Roxane, I will give myself into the hands of M. le 
 Due d'Orleans ; I will suffer as I deserve, and 
 you shall help me to be strong. Come, come, 
 come ! " 
 
 She caught at my fingers and tried to drag me 
 
LOVE OR HONOUR 209 
 
 towards the salon, shaking the snow in showers 
 from her shoulders in the violence of her passion ; 
 but I stood like a rock until, with a cry, she dropped 
 at my feet and flung her arms around my knees. 
 
 " You shall not die for me ! " she gasped. *' You 
 shall not die ! Oh, mon Dieu, will nothing make 
 you speak ? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Cheverny," I said, " if I turned 
 from the dungeons of the Chateau Sainte Roxane 
 — if I faltered in giving my worthless life to save 
 those whom I so nearly betrayed — if I stamped my 
 foot upon the last shred of honour that clings to 
 the name of de Championnet, I should deserve to 
 be spat upon by God and all His angels ! Let me 
 go, and may Heaven smile on 3^ou, Mademoiselle." 
 
 My words ended in a whisper, and as I stooped to 
 loosen Aurelie's arms the clock commenced to strike 
 my hour of doom. Bending my head, I breathed a 
 kiss upon her hair, freed my knees from her em- 
 brace, and staggered towards the terrace like a man 
 grown old and grey. Ere I entered the salon, I 
 looked back, and saw in the midst of the whirling 
 snow that swept down upon the parterre, a little 
 white figure kneeling alone. 
 14 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE DUCHESSE WINS 
 
 Seven hours later, when I thrust open my cham- 
 ber window, the snow had ceased, and there was a 
 bright starry sky, extraordinarily brilliant and clear, 
 with a dazzling glare of moonlight on the terrace 
 and the parterre. The little berceaux were glitter- 
 ing like the frosted domes of minarets, and away 
 beyond the grounds of the chateau slept the white 
 valley and the pretty village of Cheverny, with the 
 tall spire of the church standing like God's sentinel 
 in its midst. 
 
 My eyes had not closed since I parted from Ma- 
 demoiselle Aurelie, and I only awaited the dawn 
 that I might wend my way to Sainte Roxane with 
 an escort of guards. I knew M. le Due had sent a 
 groom to Paris immediately on my surrender ; and 
 when Dubois, a few minutes after I retired to my 
 room, came to wish me a mocking good-night, he 
 took care that I should not escape by locking the 
 strong door from without. 
 
 I heard the wretch trip down the stair, jangling 
 the keys and humming a scandalous chansonette. 
 
 2IO 
 
THE DUCHESSE WINS 211 
 
 How little he trusted me ! He had even gone off 
 with my sword, thinking that although I was no 
 better than a rogue, and no worse than a rascal, I 
 might make a swift resolve and cut the string of my 
 own life. Yes, M. I'Abbe was determined that the 
 Chateau Sainte Roxane should not be cheated of its 
 prey. 
 
 I had been tramping my chamber with a flaming 
 heart hour after hour, full of mad thoughts of Aure- 
 lie, and the cool gush of icy wind which poured 
 through the open lattice did but wake in my brain 
 a fresh fever of remorse. Once more I cursed the 
 day I first saw Madame de Berri — once more I 
 cursed my rash vow in the card-chamber of the 
 Luxembourg ; but of what use were regrets ? I had 
 brought down the storm of misery upon Mademoi- 
 selle's head, and all the self-sacrifice in the world 
 could never atone for my sin. 
 
 I thrust my grey face out of the window and 
 gazed down at the terrace. Just underneath me M. 
 le Comte d'Anquital and Silvain de Cheverny had 
 killed one another, and I smiled bitterly to think 
 how well my magnificent diplomacy would have 
 worked out but for my irresistible love of Mademoi- 
 selle Aur^lie. M. le Due would have held the se- 
 crets, Alberoni been duped and laughed at by all 
 Europe, the dangerous plot against the Regency 
 come to an inglorious end, and the conspirators 
 would lie at the mercy of Monseigneur and the 
 
212 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 Abbe Dubois, while I might have wedded Madame 
 la Duchesse de Berri, and risen in time to rule 
 France. A little more bloodshed — a little more un- 
 scrupulous diplomacy, and then . . . 
 
 But the night was cold, and I was closing the 
 lattice with a clash when a woman's shadow was 
 tlfrown strong upon the terrace, and, looking down, I 
 saw Mademoiselle de Cheverny steal out from 
 the chateau. *' Heavens ! " I murmured. " Do I 
 dream ? " 
 
 The door opened once more, and a second shadow 
 darkened the snow. I could scarcely believe my 
 eyes — it was Madame la Duchesse de Berri, holding 
 something that glittered in her hand. She flung off 
 her furs — Mademoiselle let the cloak drop softly from 
 her shoulders, and in an instant I knew that a duel 
 was the outcome of their challenge in the salon, for 
 each held a rapier. 
 
 The moonlight was pale but fierce as it struck 
 upon the chateau, the parterre, and the long, glis- 
 tening terrace, and Madame's bosom and arms 
 gleamed white as the snow. Aurelie too, had bared 
 her shoulders, and nothing but a drooping coil of 
 lace floated from her neck to shield her breast from 
 the sharp and biting wind. Ah, these were women 
 worth the name ! 
 
 But Mort Christ ! how my heart drummed when 
 Aurelie fell on guard, and Madame sent her blade 
 straight at her bosom. Parried ! Yes, if the old 
 
THE DUCHESSE WINS 213 
 
 Chevalier had been her maitre d'armes, he had 
 taught her how to fence ; and even so long ago as 
 the days when I walked with the Duchesse in the 
 gardens of Versailles I had heard of Madame's pro- 
 ficiency. 
 
 They were a pair well matched, and it thrilled me 
 when first one, and then the other, lunged and lunged 
 until the sparks showered extremely prettily from 
 their tinkling blades. 
 
 Once I heard Madame de Berri give a little wild, 
 stifled cry, and prayed that Mademoiselle had 
 drawn first blood ; but when, a moment later, the 
 Duchesse leapt in with the litheness of a panther 
 and nearly pierced Aurelie's side, my suspense grew 
 maddening, and could I have squeezed my body 
 through the narrow windovv^, I must have dropped 
 down and parted them. 
 
 "■ Is Mademoiselle satisfied ? " panted Madame de 
 Berri. 
 
 " I will fight you till my last breath ! " gasped 
 Aurelie, and with inimitable swiftness Madame flev»- 
 at her again, but Mademoiselle de Cheverny made 
 a beautiful rally, feinted once or twice, and then 
 slipped her blade 'neath Madame de Berri's. There 
 was a flash of fire — a gay, rasping sound that set 
 one's teeth on edge, and I saw the sword of the 
 Duchesse spin high in the air like a bright wheel of 
 light, and tinkle down at her feet. 
 
 Madame was disarmed ! 
 
214 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 Aurelie stood with the point of her rapier resting 
 on the snow, and a strip of torn lace from her bosom 
 fluttering away on the icy breath of night. It was 
 a scene of exquisite romance. The stars strewed 
 the violet heavens like ten million diamonds, the 
 great moon blazing in their midst, while forest, hill, 
 and vale shone 'neath her glare with a soft brilliance 
 indescribable. The wind sung low among the trees, 
 and now and then a shower of snow would spurt 
 from the creaking boughs and scatter like bright 
 gems upon the terrace, where here and there Ma- 
 dame's and Aur^lie's shifting, springing little feet 
 had drawn dark ribbons as they fought. 
 
 Had Mademoiselle glanced up she might have 
 seen my face at the window ; but she was too in- 
 tent on the Duchesse to heed aught save the fact 
 that the daughter of the Regent of France had 
 stooped to pick up her sword, and in the flash of 
 an eye they had re-engaged. Three times Aurelie 
 spared Madame when she might have run her 
 through, and then to my intense horror I saw her 
 deliberately open her guard and allow the Duchesse 
 to lunge with devilish swiftness at her heart. 
 
 My eyes seemed full of fire — I caught the gleam 
 of their arms and bosoms — the flash of Madame's 
 rapier, and next instant Mademoiselle de Cheverny 
 lay on her back upon the terrace with a quick stream 
 of blood from her side darkening the snow. 
 
 A cry sprang from my lips that was drowned by 
 
THE DUCHESSE WINS 215 
 
 the scream of the Duchesse, and I saw her throw 
 down her blade and race into the salon. I shook 
 the strong centre-bar of my window till it rattled, 
 but in spite of my mad fury it held fast, and 
 seemingly 'twas hours before Madame de Berri 
 reappeared with Madame Rochette, en d^sha- 
 bill6, and a couple of half-dressed lacqueys. I 
 watched them carry Aurelie into the chateau ; I 
 heard the slam of the lattice, and the loud tones of 
 Monseigneur the Regent as he shouted inquiries 
 from the head of the stair — the babble of maids, 
 and the thin, incisive voice of the Abbe Dubois, 
 and afterwards the steady tread of men's feet. 
 
 They were bearing Mademoiselle to her cham- 
 ber, and when the day dawned and M. I'Abb^ broke 
 in upon my agony to tell me that my guards had 
 arrived, I was also informed that Aurelie lay in the 
 Shadow of Death. 
 
 My strength fled my limbs, and I think even 
 Dubois was awed by my change of face, for with- 
 out a word he took my sleeve and led me slowly 
 down the stair. Not a sign of Madame la Duchesse 
 or the Regent. 
 
 In the courtyard, drinking hot wine and surround- 
 ed by ten or a dozen troopers, sat Captain d' Eglan- 
 tine, whom I slightly knew, and saluting me respect- 
 fully, the guards brought forward one of Mademoi- 
 selle de Cheverny's horses. I pulled myself to- 
 gether lest these fellows and d' Eglantine should go 
 
2i6 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 back to Paris and say that Audran de Championnet 
 had turned coward in the hour of adversity, mounted 
 to the saddle, and, taking a long look at the old 
 chateau, clattered out of the yard in the midst of 
 the troopers, and passed swiftly down the white, 
 powdery road. 
 
 The hours fled, and ere grey dusk began to fall, 
 leaving the Heavens all bloody with the wintry 
 even-glow, we saw the tall battlements and gables 
 of the Chateau Sainte Roxane rising black and grim 
 against the sky. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 SAINTE ROXANE 
 
 " I AM sorry for you, M. le Vicomte, but Monsei- 
 gneur must be obeyed. Au revoir till the morn ! " 
 
 With the Chatelain's words and the clang of the 
 great iron door ringing in my ears I groped my way 
 along the wet walls to my resting-place in the Frog 
 dungeon, noting with surprise that the floor was 
 free of water. The horrors of this prison had been 
 whispered to me long ago by a friend of M. le 
 Comte le Lally, who came out from it a madman ; 
 by the sister of Anselme d'Hautfort, who was found 
 dead with a hundred rats tearing at his face ; by an 
 old comrade-in-arms of the Marquis de Pontolet, 
 of the Gardes Frangaises, who was released only to 
 leap from the crenelated walls of the chateau into 
 the Seine. 
 
 Yes, this dungeon had as black a history as any 
 in France, and, although scarce a Parisian dreamed 
 that it was still in use, M. TAbb^ Dubois was care- 
 ful to send the most dangerous or the most hated 
 of his enemies, not to the Bastille, but to a secret 
 
 death amid the agonising terrors of this devil's 
 
 217 
 
2i8 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 paradise. Its Chatelain was M. de la Valette, a 
 rascal whose life Dubois had saved to make him the 
 watch-dog of the Chateau ; and I do not think M. 
 I'Abbe could have chosen a better man. M. de la 
 Valette possessed a silky voice and a heart of stone ; 
 he was a thief, a murderer, an assassin, and a hypo- 
 crite ; he would smile at a friend and stab him in 
 the back ; he would lick the feet of his worst foe to 
 win a favour, and the shrewd Dubois found in him 
 a minion who would mete out to the prisoners of 
 the Frog dungeon as many miseries as his master 
 would pay him for. 
 
 Captain d'Eglantine and his troopers were gone 
 back to Paris, and save for the Chatelain and a few 
 of his servants, a couple of gaolers and a brace of 
 bloodhounds, the chateau was empty. And down in 
 the Frog dungeon reigned a vast, illimitable stillness. 
 
 Tliere was one single slit through which a ray 
 of sunlight, no bigger than a hand, might steal at 
 times into the black gloom 'mid which I was to 
 live ; but at night, with foul things creeping o'er 
 one, a man went step by step in horror, and pres- 
 ently would shine green eyes, growing in number 
 as the moments passed, and the rats would come to 
 rustle to and fro. Frogs, too, leapt from their 
 haunts to croak around me as I sat upon the block 
 of wood which served for bed and seat, and the cold 
 was so intense that long icicles here and there hung 
 from the dripping, vaulted roof. 
 
SAINTE ROXANE 219 
 
 My brain was torn betwixt wild thoughts of Ma- 
 demoiselle de Cheverny and the ghastly hatred of 
 my prison. I heard the rats race in scores across 
 the dungeon, screeching as they ran. Time after 
 time my hands flew to my face or neck to snatch 
 away and crush some loathsome thing, and more 
 than once I had a mind to dash my brains out 
 'gainst the wall. 
 
 Colder and colder grew the night : M. de la Va- 
 lette had not even offered me a cloak, and at last I 
 was forced to tramp up and down lest I might sink 
 through numbness into sleep. Out in the pure snow 
 I could have died with a will, but here, with the 
 rats feasting on my body — bah ! the very thought 
 transfixed me with a terror that I had never known 
 before, and I began to sing, to dance, and to shout 
 like a madman in the vain hope of scaring them 
 from my sight. But no, their green eyes would re- 
 appear until I could count them by hundreds, and 
 when I drove them away they would come back 
 again, bringing others in their train to rush and 
 squeal and scamper round my feet. 
 
 Towards morn the wind began to rise, and when 
 a gush of freezing water came sousing through the 
 window-slit I knew that my dungeon was compassed 
 about by the Seine, and I wondered what would 
 happen if the river rose. Already it seemed as 
 though the cell was deep below its face, for again 
 and again the spray swept down upon me, and my 
 
220 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 feet, when I set them to the ground, were wetted 
 to the ankles. 
 
 It must have been three hours after dawn before 
 a man came to me with some bread and wine, and 
 gazing over his shoulder was M. de la Valette, a 
 soft smile on his lips. He had a lanthorn in his 
 hand, and flashed it full upon me. 
 
 ** Bon jour, M. le Vicomte ! " he cried. 
 
 I answered him not. I was as mad and savage as 
 a wolf. 
 
 ''Bon jour, Monsieur I " he cried again. "How 
 have you liked your night in the Frog dungeon? 
 Ah ! you are not the first gay gentleman who has 
 died here. Others greater than you, Vicomte, have 
 passed down these steps before my eyes, and over 
 each I have murmured the same requiem : ' Sic 
 transit gloria mundi ! ' Never mind, my friend ; 
 what you have lost on earth you may gain in Para- 
 dise ! Drink, and be merry ! Renard, give M. de 
 Championnet the Beaune." 
 
 The man offered me some wine. I would not 
 touch it, so he set the pitcher at my side and went 
 away, his feet squelching in the water that washed 
 about the cell. I watched him go up the stair, 
 leaving M. de la Valette to continue his pleasant- 
 ries. 
 
 '' M. TAbbe Dubois has got his knife into you, 
 Monsieur! " he said. 
 
 '' Well ? " I snarled. 
 
SAINTE ROXANE 221 
 
 " He is likely to keep it there," the Chatelain 
 rejoined. 
 
 " Let him," I answered, throwing myself back on 
 the seat. '' What will occur, Monsieur, if the river 
 rises ? " 
 
 " You will drown like a rat," he laughed. 
 
 *' Houra !" I said. *' May it rise soon." And I 
 saw a flash of admiration spring to his eyes. 
 
 " Sang bleu ! you have a spirit, M. le Vicomte," 
 he returned. " I wish your quarters were better ; 
 but Monseigneur particularly mentioned the Frog 
 dungeon in his lettre de cachet, and one must obey 
 the Regent of France — eh, mon ami ? " 
 
 ^' Undoubtedly," I said. 
 
 *' But Dubois is the Devil ! " rattled on De la 
 Valette. " It is he who has caused you to be thrown 
 here." 
 
 " Oh ! " I exclaimed. " How do you know that, 
 Monsieur?" 
 
 The Chatelain smiled, slammed the heavy door, 
 and left me alone to my wine and my bread. I 
 drank a little of the Beaune, flung myself back on the 
 seat, and for the first time since entering the dun- 
 geon, I slept. 
 
 Night had come when I awoke with a start to 
 feel something running over my breast, and the 
 instant my hand touched its wet, slimy body, a 
 huge river-rat fastened to my cheek. I tore it away 
 with a shudder and a blasphemy, and, leaping up, 
 
222 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 recommenced my vigil, splashing to and fro amid 
 the foul slime that had risen from the dungeon floor 
 to mingle with the wash of the Seine. 
 
 Mon Dieu, the horror of it all ! — the maddening 
 loathsomeness ! And yet, far down in my heart, I 
 gloried to think that my suffering was for Aurelie, 
 and this steeled me to go through the tortures of 
 hell. By day I slept a little, and when the hosts of 
 vermin crept from the recesses of the prison to make 
 the hours hideous with their clamour and their hate- 
 ful sport — when the ice-crystalled spray came scat- 
 tering through the window to drench me to the skin — 
 I tramped about in my misery, sometimes with loud 
 songs, sometimes with mad laughter, and all the 
 while tortured by visions of Mademoiselle Aurelie 
 stretched on her back, as she had fallen beneath 
 Madame's swift thrust on the terrace of the 
 chateau. 
 
 A month passed, and still I lived ; and at last there 
 came a day when M. de la Valette entered the 
 dungeon to say that Madame la Duchesse de Berri 
 had arrived at Sainte Roxane, and would see me. 
 The lanthorn which he held dazzled my eyes, and 
 I gazed at him, blinking. 
 
 " Tell Madame to go back to Paris; I have done 
 with her." 
 
 *' Oh, come, M. le Vicomte, you are putting a 
 fresh cord round your neck ; and I daresay the Du- 
 chesse has a tendresse for you. It is a mistake for 
 
SAINTE ROXANE 223 
 
 any man to resist a woman's love. Have you not 
 already learnt that ? " 
 
 " Where is she ? " I asked, with a fierceness which 
 startled him. 
 
 " In one of my rooms," he replied. 
 
 " Alone ? " 
 
 " Except for a couple of lacqueys." 
 
 " Take me to her," I said, and M. de la Valette 
 immediately led the way up the slimy stair. I 
 crawled after him as fast as I could, but the Frog 
 dungeon seemed to have made an old and weary man 
 of me. I was numbed and chattering from the in- 
 tense cold, for a black and heavy frost had turned 
 every drop of water that ran about the cell to ice, 
 and the occasional flashes of spray which sprang 
 through the slit upon my shoulders were frozen at 
 once to my clothes. As I passed along one of the 
 corridors of the chateau in the rear of the Chatelain 
 I glanced in a mirror, and then I saw how great a 
 wreck I had become. My coat was glittering with 
 the frosted spindrift from the Seine — my face was 
 grey and lean, and the savagery of my eyes was 
 enough to frighten the devil, and had not M. de la 
 Valette allowed Renard to shave me only a day 
 before, I should certainly never have recognised 
 myself. 
 
 The Chatelain led me right into the presence of 
 the Duchesse. 
 
 *' I have brought M. leVicomteto you, Madame," 
 
224 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 he said, with a gay, swinging bow, " and he is the 
 only prisoner who has ever survived a month's in- 
 carceration in the Frog dungeon of Sainte Roxane. 
 Shall I leave him alone to your pity ? " 
 
 The Duchesse de Berri made a swift motion of 
 assent, and M. de la Valette withdrew from the 
 chamber and softly closed the door. 
 
 Madame was standing by the window, dressed in 
 a magnificent cloak of scarlet, and I distinctly saw 
 her shudder as she gazed at me. Her pretty mouth 
 was hidden by furs, but the wanton flash of her 
 lustrous eyes still possessed a charm which might 
 lure a hundred fresh lovers to her feet. But she 
 would never lure Audran de Championnet there 
 again. Nay, by Saint Denis, Madame la Duchesse 
 had lost her hold on me for ever. 
 
 " Is this you?" she began, in a voice of extreme 
 gentleness. 
 
 '' It is I, Madame," I said. 
 
 '' I have come to offer you your life." 
 
 '* I would rather you could offer me death," I 
 replied, '* I should welcome it with joy ; but as for 
 life, Duchesse, I would not take it at your hands — 
 no, not if you prayed me on your knees." 
 
 " Are you mad ? " she asked. 
 
 My only answer was a bitter laugh. 
 
 " Another week and you will be dead ! " Madame 
 said. " Think of it, M. le Vicomte— another seven 
 days in the Frog dungeon ! Dieu ! I have heard of 
 
SAINTE ROXANE 225 
 
 the horrors of that place! Another seven days 
 amid the filth and the vermin, and the wash of the 
 Seine, and then a lingering death, perhaps at night, 
 with the rats waiting hungrily round you ! And I — 
 I could give you freedom and love ! ** 
 
 " Duchesse, you are lying again ! " I cried. " You 
 are come here to torment me, and, by the God 
 above, if you madden me afresh Fll take your white 
 throat in my hands, and send you where you can 
 neither tempt, nor he, nor play the courtesan. The 
 Chateau Sainte Roxane has nearly done for me, 
 Madame, but I have strength enough to kill you — 
 yes, I have strength enough for that ! " 
 
 She sank back against the heavy brocaded curtains, 
 and her face went white. Sang Dieu ! I had fright- 
 ened her into a frenzy of fear, and the next moment 
 she was grovelling on her knees. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! I am not lying, Audran. Do not 
 look at me like that ! I am afraid of you ! Where 
 is M. de la Valette ? Where is he ? " 
 
 She gazed wildly round, and I thought she was' 
 going to shriek for the Chatelain, but presently, still 
 on her knees, she crept ^forward, and was about to 
 take my hand in hers when I snatched it away with 
 a curse. 
 
 " What has become of Mademoiselle de Che- 
 
 verny?" I cried. " Is she alive or dead ? Isawyour 
 
 duel upon the terrace ; I saw her spare you thrice 
 
 because you were unfit to die, and then, Madame, I 
 
 15 
 
226 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 saw her let you run her through the body ! Why 
 was she so tired of h*fe? What new misery had you 
 been bringing upon her ? " 
 
 " It was a fair challenge between us," gasped the 
 Duchesse, " and in the salon Mademoiselle swore to 
 let my blood run ! " 
 
 '* Then why did she change her mind and court 
 death ? " I said. *' Madame, you must have had 
 some further conversation with her, prior to the 
 duel. Confess all, or . . ." 
 
 I made a pretence of darting at her throat — a 
 brutal threat that forced her into a terrified acqui- 
 escence to my will. 
 
 " Before we fought, Mademoiselle asked what 
 would be your fate," she panted, " and I told her 
 of the Frog dungeon. I told her that you would 
 soon die ; I pictured the horrors of the night, and 
 then she murmured that you were suffering for her 
 sake." 
 
 ''And so she, too, chose death," I said, and my 
 voice was as hard as a flint. '' You drove her to 
 that, Madame ? Well, is Mademoiselle alive or in her 
 grave ? Quick ! I have scarce patience to keep my 
 hands from you ! " 
 
 *' She lives ! " breathed the Duchesse, and my 
 heart gave a great leap. Mademoiselle lived ! Great 
 Heaven ! what a flood of love rushed o'er my soul ! 
 what passion fired my brain ! I was entombed in 
 the Chateau Saint Roxane, while she was free to go 
 
SAINTE ROXANE 227 
 
 forth into the bright world — to taste fresh joys, and 
 set her red lips on the blossom of a life of pleasure 
 — to leave old memories far behind amid the misty 
 past — to forget all — to forget me ! 
 
 Mother of Christ ! I was shaken to the heart by 
 the very dream of such a tragedy, and scarce had 
 strength to save myself from pitching on my face 
 along the floor. Madame la Duchesse slid back 
 from me, and stealthily arose. 
 
 '' Where is Mademoiselle ? " I cried, with a rattle 
 in my throat. " Is she still at the Chateau de Che- 
 verny f 
 
 " Until she is strong enough to journey to Paris," 
 said the Duchesse. 
 
 " To Paris ? " I exclaimed, my eyes wondering at 
 her. 
 
 " Yes," returned Madame, gliding a little farther 
 away from me. " I may as well tell you the truth 
 now, M. le Vicomte. Mademoiselle de Cheverny is 
 determined to go to the Palais-Royal to beg your 
 release of my father the Regent ! " 
 
 I was too stunned to open my lips. 
 
 '' If nothing else will save you — if words and tears 
 fail, she is prepared to offer Monseigneur a bribe," 
 continued the Duchesse, biting at her furs. '' And 
 what do you think it will be, Monsieur ? " 
 
 *' I sank into a fauteuil and gazed up at her with 
 a face of agony. 
 
 " Tell me ! " I gasped. '' Mon Dieu, speak ! " 
 
228 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 " How can I say the truth ? " she softly cooed, 
 and there was the very devil of malice in her splendid 
 eyes. 
 
 *' Mon Dieu, speak ! " I cried again, and then 
 Madame laughed across the room at me. 
 
 " Mademoiselle is going to buy you of Monsei- 
 gneur the Regent," she said, triumphantly. 
 
 "And the price?" I whispered, sweat pouring 
 from my face. 
 
 " Mademoiselle herself! " cried the Duchesse. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 FOR THE SAKE OF MADEMOISELLE 
 
 " God forbid ! " I exclaimed, struggling to my 
 feet. " God forbid, Madame ! I would rather bear 
 the tortures of the damned than let Mademoiselle 
 de Cheverny sell her body for my sake. But I will 
 not believe Monseigneur could be so base as to take 
 her in exchange for my life — the life of a man who 
 does but suffer his deserts. I will not believe that 
 even he could be so low a libertine ! " 
 
 '' Then there still might remain another to be 
 won ! " murmured the Duchesse. 
 
 *' Who ? " I cried ; and she softly answered : 
 
 ''Dubois." 
 
 '* Dubois ! " I breathed, and down sank my heart 
 again. Ah, there lay my real enemy and Mademoi- 
 selle's danger ! If in despair she went from the 
 Resent to M. I'Abbe, she was lost ; and Madame de 
 Berri smiled to watch my white face and wild, bloody 
 eyes. I could have bowed my head and wept like 
 a child ; but if ever Heaven called on me to play the 
 man it was at this hour, when the bitterest cup that 
 Fate can send a lover was lifted to my lips. To know 
 
 that Mademoiselle might reach the hands of Dubois — 
 
 229 
 
230 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 to realise she might voluntarily yield herself to him 
 to save me from a death which I would die a thou- 
 sand times over rather than she should suffer shame 
 and martyrdom — Mother of Christ, what agony! 
 
 Yes, Madame la Duchesse was having her revenge, 
 and tasting the sweets of a vengeance worthy even 
 of her ; and it was my turn now to kneel at her feet 
 — my turn to snatch at her hand and implore her 
 pity, her aid, her mercy — I, who had called her 
 courtesan, and had nearly let my fingers snap upon 
 her slender throat ! 
 
 She looked down at me, mocking, with a smile 
 that was indescribable in its malevolence. 
 
 *' Hear me, Madame, for the sake of Heaven ! " I 
 cried. *' Go to Mademoiselle de Cheverny and say 
 such a sacrifice would be useless ; say I am dead, and 
 that the rats have claimed me ; lie to her, and I will 
 call down the blessings of the saints upon your head. 
 Have mercy, Duchesse, on the woman that I love!" 
 
 Madame's eyes flamed. 
 
 *' So, at length you are come to my knees, a lover 
 confessed," she said, and her beauty at the moment 
 was utterly transcendent. 
 
 '' Yes, Duchesse," I replied, " I love her, and I 
 pray Heaven she loves me ! " 
 
 '' And you can ask my mercy ? Mille diables ! 
 no man in the world save the Vicomte de Cham- 
 pionnet would dare threaten, scorn, and then beg a 
 favour of Madame la Duchesse de Berri ! " 
 
FOR THE SAKE OF MADEMOISELLE 231 
 
 " You never cared one beat of your heart for me, 
 Madame." 
 
 '* What man yet gauged a woman's thoughts ? I 
 may have cared for you : I may have loathed you ; 
 and now, Monsieur, all I desire is to make you pay 
 my own price. Could you blame me if I wished to 
 set my heel upon your lips ? " 
 
 " You have already set it on my heart ! " 
 
 " And I will keep it there ! Yes, Monsieur, you 
 may yet be free of the dungeon of the Chateau 
 Sainte Roxane, but you shall never break free of me ! 
 M. le Vicomte, I have still a fancy to become your 
 wife ; and if you ever leave this place it will not be 
 as the lover of Mademoiselle de Cheverny, but as 
 the husband of Madame de Berri ! " 
 
 " Never ! " I cried, and tottered like a man full 
 of wine. 
 
 Madame laughed a low, soft laugh. 
 
 " Wait, Monsieur, and listen. In three days 
 Mademoiselle will be sufficiently recovered to go to 
 Paris, and if once she reaches the Palais-Royal she 
 can only gain your pardon by becoming what you 
 deem me to have long ago become — a courtesan. 
 You see, I do not forget rash words ; I have a good 
 memory, and you shall smart for every insult. She 
 will be either the mistress of Monseigneur the Re- 
 gent or Dubois, perhaps mistress of both and others 
 as well, for men tire of women, and constancy does 
 not exist at the Palais-Royal.'* 
 
232 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 *' But she shall not go to Paris ! God will not let 
 her ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " It is strange how men in extremis of mind or 
 body patronise le Grand Dieu," reflected the 
 Duchesse. " You are growing weak, Vicomte, and 
 there are tears leaping down your cheeks. You are 
 no longer the old gay, debonair, swaggering Audran 
 de Championnet of a few weeks ago, and yet, so 
 strange a thing is woman's love, I am prepared to 
 wed you, — I, the daughter of the Regent of France." 
 
 She tossed back her head with superb pride, and 
 the light in her eyes was a challenge. 
 
 " Madame," I said, " I would not receive you as 
 my wife to gain my release from twenty Saintes 
 Roxanes ! I would not marry you to save my 
 life a score of times ! " 
 
 The Duchesse beat her little hands together in a 
 dumb fury. 
 
 ** And who are you to speak of love ? " I continued, 
 gazing steadily at her. " Once, Madame, I was pre- 
 pared to sell my body and soul for you ; but you have 
 proved j^ourself unworthy — you have lied — you have 
 played the coquette — you have even done worse, and 
 God only knows how many lovers you have drawn in- 
 to the net of your amours. There is one woman alone 
 that I worship, and she is Mademoiselle de Cheverny." 
 
 A light, wanton laugh fell from her lips. 
 
 " Mademoiselle can never be yours. Monsieur. 
 She will belong to Monseigneur, or to M. I'Abbe — 
 
FOR THE SAKE OF MADEMOISELLE 233 
 
 while you, saved by her dishonour, will live to dream 
 of her amid the magnificent intoxication of Versailles 
 or the Palais-Royal. You will live to suffer, M. le 
 Vicomte, and to hear Mademoiselle's name tossed to 
 and fro by the lips of the vilest roues in France . . ." 
 
 " Stop, Madame, in the name of Heaven ! *' I cried. 
 *' Anything but that!" 
 
 The Duchesse smiled, and came nearer to me. 
 
 " U you consent to wed me within three days, I 
 swear on the Cross to procure your pardon from 
 Monseigneur." 
 
 *' And Mademoiselle ? " I murmured. 
 
 " Will be under no necessity of begging your 
 liberty at his hands. She will remain at Cheverny 
 — unharmed, pure.'* 
 
 " But what porwer have you, Madame, to drag my 
 pardon from the Regent ? " 
 
 " There is no man in the world I cannot win to do 
 my bidding," she replied. 
 
 " Here in the chateau is a chapel," I said. " Will 
 you swear before God's altar that you have come 
 to me with the truth — that Mademoiselle intends to 
 sacrifice herself for me, and that I can only save her 
 by an alliance with you ? " 
 
 Madame la Duchesse did not hesitate. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur," she whispered. *' I will swear." 
 
 "But why do you desire my hand?" I cried. 
 "Once, Madame, I could have given you loyalty — I 
 could have given you love ; but now, even though 
 
234 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 I wedded you a hundred times, my heart could 
 never beat for you. It is no longer mine, but 
 Mademoiselle de Cheverny's." 
 
 Her voice sharpened and cut me like a knife. 
 
 " I regret that she can never be yours, Monsieur. 
 You ask me why I wish to be your wife, and I 
 answer that I cannot tell you. Some women, Au- 
 dran, are indescribable. They love and yet cannot 
 be true. I have loved you — once — twice, many 
 times ; but there have been days when my heart 
 ran riot, and then you were forgotten." 
 
 "And so, Madame, you cannot be faithful to me 
 even through the sacrament of marriage." 
 
 " As faithful as some wives — that is all." she said. 
 "Are you ready to prove my fidelity? At this 
 moment, Vicomte, I have a passion for you.' 
 
 " How long will it last, Duchesse ? You may, for 
 all I know, have had passions for scores of lovers, 
 among them M. le Comte d'Anquital and M. le Mar- 
 quis de Merivale. Scandal says you have always 
 been prodigal in your loves." 
 
 If looks could kill I should have fallen dead at 
 Madame's feet ; and with her scarlet cloak trailing 
 behind her, she swept towards the door — a curse 
 ringing from her lips. Then, in a thrill of agony, 
 the dread that her assurance of Mademoiselle's in- 
 tention might not be a lie took hold of my soul and 
 maddened me, and, reeling forward, I stretched out 
 my hand and stayed her flight. 
 
FOR THE SAKE OF MADEMOISELLE 235 
 
 ''Come with me to the chapel and swear your 
 words are true ! " I cried. " Where is M. de la 
 Valette ? Call him ! I will hear your oath, and 
 then, Madame, you can go to Mademoiselle de Che- 
 verny, and tell her that it would be useless for her 
 to strive to buy my life of the Regent, because I am 
 about to purchase my freedom through an alliance 
 with the Duchesse de Berri." 
 
 My voice sank, and she gazed at me in triumph. 
 
 '' I said there was no man in France I could not 
 win to do my will ! " she cried, and went out into 
 the corridor in search of the Chatelain ; while I, 
 sinking down again into my chair, launched forth 
 peal after peal of mad laughter ; and when, a mo- 
 ment later, Madame re-entered the room with M. de 
 la Valette, I was stretched on the floor with the 
 tears streaming down my face. But for those tears 
 I think my heart had burst. 
 
 * >Jf ^ -Sf -5^ * 
 
 Resting on M. de la Valette's arm, I accompanied 
 the Duchesse to the little bare chapel of the cha- 
 teau ; and when she had sworn her oath, Madame 
 strove to induce the Chatelain to change my quar- 
 ters, but he was adamant, and with as great a sang- 
 froid as I could muster I parted from her and re- 
 turned to my old prison. 
 
 Three days and nights wore through, and still I 
 lived. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 On the morning of the fourth day, I was bidden 
 by the Chatelain to come out of the dungeon once 
 more ; and when at last I reached the chamber in 
 which I had interviewed the Duchesse de Berri, 
 there, to my unutterable astonishment, was none 
 other than M. le Marquis de Merivale. I shall 
 never forget the wave of compassion that swept over 
 his face, — no, not if I live a hundred years ; and he 
 assisted me to a fauteuil with a swift courtesy which 
 caused the tears to flash into my weak blinking 
 eyes. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, ** permit me to present to 
 
 you my congratulations. It is your wedding-day, 
 
 and I am sent by Monseigneur the Regent of France 
 
 with an order for your release from the Chateau 
 
 Sainte Roxane. Madame la Duchesse is, I believe, 
 
 on the road towards the Salesian convent, whither 
 
 I now beg you will accompany me. My valet is 
 
 here with some appropriate clothes, and while he is 
 
 aiding your toilet I will make all arrangements with 
 
 M. de la Valette for your immediate freedom. 
 236 
 
LIFE AND LOVE 237 
 
 Come, Vicomte, you are yet in the summer of your 
 years, and there 's still a charm in the world. In 
 three hours you may be the blithest man in France. 
 You have suffered, my friend, but when Madame is 
 your wife your rejuvenescence will be complete." 
 
 I sat still, and continued to gaze at him with my 
 winking eyes. The Frog dungeon had for the 
 moment dimmed my sight, and I was but little bet- 
 ter than a blind man when a shaft of sun came 
 streaming through the windows and played around 
 my feet. My brain, too, seemed thick, heavy, wild, 
 and as for my heart, it had frozen to ice. 
 
 "What are you doing here, M. le Marquis?" I 
 asked. *' There was a time when you loved the 
 Duchesse, and now you have come to see me wed 
 her." 
 
 "And why not?" returned the Englishman. 
 " A wedding. Monsieur, is of interest even to a re- 
 jected lover, and when M. le Due d'Orleans desired 
 me to bear your pardon to Sainte Roxane I could 
 scarcely dare decline." And I distinctly heard the 
 Marquis laugh as he suddenly slipped out of the 
 room and left me to the mercies of his treasure of a 
 valet. 
 
 In half-an-hour I was transformed. Michael 
 dressed me in a coat of daffodil and silver, a rose 
 vest, white breeches and hose, and at the instant he 
 fastened a rapier to my side and offered me a cup 
 of wine I began to feel a new man. My face, 
 
238 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 cleansed of the slime and filth of the Frog dungeon, 
 shone white as ivory ; my eyes were bright with an 
 unnatural brilliance, but as the Moselle warmed and 
 braced my body I felt that even though bound by 
 indissoluble bonds to Madame de Berri, I might at 
 least go forth and seek peace amid the romance and 
 dangers of the life I had lived with such reckless 
 gaiety in the old unregenerate days long past. 
 
 " Yes, I would wed Madame, but naught in the 
 world should chain me to her side ; and in this mind 
 I followed M. le Marquis to the carriage, acknowl- 
 edged the salute of M. de la Valette, and drove off 
 to the Salesian Convent of Sainte Roxane. The 
 morn was fragrant with the breath of spring, the 
 almond-trees were in blossom and the scent of the 
 violet was heavy on the air ; and though the distant 
 hills were ringed about by ribs of sparkling snow, 
 the song of birds deep in the valley warmed winter 
 from the heart. M. le Marquis kept silence all the 
 way, and until the horses stopped at the gates of 
 the convent, and the Mother Superior came rustling 
 out to welcome him, never a v/ord passed between us. 
 
 " M. le Vicomte has come," he announced ; and, 
 with a charming bow and smile, FAbbesse Cecile 
 led us through a silent corridor and so on into the 
 small but magnificent chapel. The door closed, and 
 almost at the instant of our arrival the organ pealed, 
 and the liquid notes of the nuns* voices commenced 
 to rise and fall in exquisite cadence on the ear. 
 
LIFE AND LOVE 239 
 
 I knew not what they sang, for my heart was wild 
 with inextinguishable longings for the love of Ma- 
 demoiselle, and I was moving towards the altar with 
 my eyes fixed upon the old silvery-haired priest, 
 when the Marquis caught my arm and swung me 
 into an adjoining oratory. It was very dim, but 
 standing by a prie-dieu was a lithe, white-clad figure, 
 and I wished to Heaven Madame had met me at the 
 altar, once for all, and spared me the bitterness 
 of another interview The door fastened softly, 
 and then the Duchesse approached, holding out her 
 little hands in a gesture of supplication. 
 
 " Audran ! " she whispered. 
 
 I had no welcome for her save a scowl. 
 
 *' Audran ! " she said again, and came nearer, 
 until, with a nameless abhorrence, I felt her fingers 
 plunge lightly into my silken sleeve. I stepped 
 back. 
 
 '' Mon Dieu, Madame, I have done with your 
 caresses," I said, *' and though in an hour you may 
 claim my hand and be my wife, you can never, even 
 in a lifetime, hope to win my heart. Mademoiselle 
 de Cheverny is in possession of that ! " 
 
 She uttered something between a low laugh and 
 a cry in a voice inexpressibly moved, and lifted her 
 face to mine. I looked down, and it was the face, 
 not of Madame la Duchesse de Berri, but of Aur(§lie ! 
 
 I did not speak, because there are times when 
 love can find no words, but I snatched her to my 
 
240 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 breast and held her there, panting, breathless, and 
 as white as the snow which fell around her when we 
 parted in the gardens of Cheverny. In the choir of 
 the chapel the nuns were still singing, and with the 
 music falling like the voice of Heaven on our ears I 
 sought Mademoiselle's lips, and drank from them 
 the sacrament of a love greater than life, and death, 
 and the illimitable aeons of eternity ! 
 
 For a moment she lay still in my arms, and I only 
 released her when a soft tapping on the door an- 
 nounced the reappearance of the Marquis de Meri- 
 vale. His face was radiant with smiles. 
 
 " Come, Monsieur, are you ready ? " he asked. 
 
 *' Ready ! " I exclaimed. '' For what, M. le Mar- 
 quis? 
 
 *' For your wedding," he replied. 
 
 " Has Madame arrived ? " I said, in a hoarse 
 whisper. 
 
 '' No, but she is on the road. Quick, M. le 
 Vicomte, there is no time to lose! " 
 
 " Mon Grand Dieu, I do not understand you !" I 
 gasped. " You brought me here to wed Madame de 
 Bern, and led me instead into the presence of Made- 
 moiselle de Cheverny. And now. Monsieur — now 
 you are come to drag me back from Heaven to Hell ! " 
 
 I gazed wildly at him, but his only answer was a 
 laugh ; and although Aur^lie's eyes were glittering 
 with tears, her face wore a smile that made my 
 heart leap. 
 
LIFE AND LOVE 241 
 
 " I am here to take the place of the Duchesse," 
 she said. " If M. le Vicomte would save his life, 
 he must be content to gain Monseigneur the Regent's 
 pardon by making me Madame la Vicomtesse de 
 Championnet." 
 
 A flush crimsoned her cheeks, and I flung my 
 arms wide that she might fall again upon my 
 breast, while the Marquis, with his accustomed 
 delicacy, discreetly turned on his heel and studied 
 the saints which shone in the midst of the little 
 painted windows of the oratory. 
 
 " Who has worked this miracle ? " I breathed. 
 " Was it you, my life ? " but Aurelie shook her 
 head. 
 
 " It was M. le Marquis," she said, nestling an 
 inch closer to my shoulder, and in the excess of 
 my gratitude I loosened my arms from my love, 
 and rushed forward to lift his hand to my lips. He 
 drew it away as though I had stung him ; and then 
 I remembered that EngHshmen do not suffer em- 
 braces from any but women. 
 
 " Monsieur," I murmured, ^' how can I repay you ? " 
 
 " By making haste with your wedding, M. le 
 Vicomte," he said. " Madame la Duchesse will pres- 
 ently arrive, and then there'll be the Devil ! Do not 
 waste words on me ; but if you are inclined to pre- 
 sent my fighting-cock with a pair of gold spurs in 
 memory of his battle at the Palais-Royal, I have no 
 
 doubt, Monsieur, he will be proud of your apprecia- 
 16 
 
242 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 tion. It was Saint Peter, and not I, who won your 
 pardon from M. le Due d'Orleans. Hearing I was 
 still in Paris, Monseigneur desired my presence at a 
 select card-party, and in the midst of the fun intro- 
 duced a magnificent cock, on which he was prepared 
 to lay a wager of five thousand louis. I immediately 
 sent Michael for Saint Peter ; and, by Heaven, they 
 fought until they scarcely had a feather left. Mon- 
 seigneur was ready to lay seven, eight, ten thousand 
 louis on his bird, so badly was mine being served ; and 
 amid all the excitement and blood, I cried out that 
 I would stop the fight unless M. le Due was wiUing to 
 include in his wager the life of the Vicomte de Charn- 
 pionnet. On my soul, I thought he would have 
 called his lacqueys and had me kicked from the 
 doors ; but there chanced to be one or two men 
 there, Monsieur, who had known you in better days, 
 and, in spite of M. I'Abbe Dubois, Monseigneur was 
 persuaded to throw your pardon, instead of the ten- 
 thousand louis, down upon the card-table. Saint 
 Peter won, and I left the Palais-Royal with the order 
 for your release from the Chateau Sainte Roxane. 
 That is how it all happened, M. le Vicomte ! " 
 
 " But the Duchesse?" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Ah, yes, the Duchesse!" laughed the Marquis. 
 *' really, Vicomte, she is superb, and I do not think 
 another such woman exists." 
 
 " Thank God for that ! " I cried. 
 
 " Madame is incomprehensible," continued M. le 
 
LIFE AND LOVE 243 
 
 Marquis, " and I am beginning to believe she has 
 loved M. de Championnet all the time. I had 
 scarcely returned from M. le Due's card-party, when 
 a messenger arrived to beg my immediate attendance 
 at the Palais-Royal, and back I went, to find Mon- 
 seigneur in the devil of a rage. The Duchesse had 
 just intimated to him her intention of wedding you, 
 Monsieur. She had, it appears, been suffering from 
 intense ennui, and the idea occurred to her that it 
 would startle Paris if she contracted a secret alliance 
 with the prisoner of Sainte Roxane, and drove in 
 state through the streets to the Palace of the Lux- 
 embourg. So she demanded your release. The 
 Regent refused, and swore volubly ; Madame swore 
 back at him ; but in the end he signed your pardon a 
 second time, and the Duchesse triumphantly retired 
 to bed." 
 
 I held my breath. Ciel ! Madame la Duchesse, 
 then, had actually kept her word, and succeeded in 
 winning my freedom that she might carry through 
 her desires ; and I awaited with impatience the 
 conclusion of M. de Merivale's recital. 
 
 ** M. le Due d'Orleans was determined to play 
 Madame an exquisite trick," ran on the Marquis. 
 " He did not tell her he had already given an order 
 for your release ; but he begged me to hasten to 
 Sainte Roxane and see that you at once quitted 
 the chateau, so that when the Duchesse arrived 
 she might find you flown. 
 
244 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 ''' Monseigneur,' I said, *I have a better plan. 
 M. de Championnet loves Mademoiselle de Che- 
 verny. Permit me to arrange that the sisters of the 
 Salesian Convent shall not be cheated of a wed- 
 ding in their chapel, and you will earn the devo- 
 tion of Mademoiselle and the everlasting loyalty of 
 M. le Vicomte! ' 
 
 *' ' What ! ' he cried. 'You would have Made- 
 moiselle take the place of the Duchesse?' 
 
 *' * Exactly, Monseigneur,' I replied ; and in a 
 transport of ecstasy the Regent could scarcely 
 refrain from falling on my neck. 
 
 *' ' Madame intends starting for Sainte Roxane at 
 ten o'clock,' he said. ' Leave Paris three hours 
 sooner, M. le Marquis. Go first to Cheverny, and 
 escort Mademoiselle, if she be willing, to the Salesian 
 Convent, and then drive to the chateau for De 
 Championnet ; and I would give Versailles to see 
 the face of Madame la Duchesse when she arrives 
 at the chapel ! " 
 
 '* I obeyed Monseigneur's commands ; I went to 
 Cheverny, and in some trepidation requested a word 
 with Mademoiselle ; " and the Marquis, glancing 
 towards Aurelie, presented her with his most deli- 
 cate bow. 
 
 " And you were willing ? " I cried, taking her 
 hands in mine. 
 
 '' What could I say ? " she whispered. " If I 
 were not willing. Monsieur, I should not now be 
 
LIFE AND LOVE 245 
 
 here," and then she covered her face, but her bright 
 eyes laughed at me 'twixt her little white fingers. 
 I had a longing to snatch her again to me, but the 
 Marquis de Merivale opened the door and was beck- 
 oning us ; so Avith the music of the nuns' voices 
 chiming on our ears, we went to the altar, and when 
 the vows were said, Madame la Vicomtesse, leaning 
 on my arm, passed with me out into the brilliant 
 sunshine. 
 
 We had scarcely entered the coach — nay, my foot 
 was only on the step, when the noise of horses tear- 
 ing along the resonant road told us that Madame 
 la Duchesse de Berri was come ! I caught a glimpse 
 of her as she stood in the carriage, and of her lac- 
 queys in cream and gold ; I saw her shake her fist 
 at me, and heard her voice shrilly cheering on the 
 smoking horses, and then leaping to Aurelie's side, 
 I bade the coachman drive like the wind to Che- 
 verny, and with a wave of the hand to M. de Meri- 
 vale, who stood laughing at the side of I'Abbesse 
 Cecile we sped away from the convent. 
 
 But alas, the unexpected invariably happens, and 
 in dashing past the Duchesse our wheels caught in 
 her equipage, and Aurelie and I were shot out into 
 the road, to arise shaken, though unhurt, and, at the 
 mercy of Madame de Berri ! 
 
 Her face was white with passion, and I saw her 
 parted lips quivering with the intensity of a rage she 
 cared not to conceal, when M. le Marquis lounged 
 
246 FOR THE SAKE OF THE DUCHESSE 
 
 carelessly forward, and the first lash of her tongue 
 fell on him. 
 
 " So this is your work, Monsieur ? " she cried. 
 
 M. de Merivale bowed. 
 
 " A very pretty lover," she sneered. " I sup- 
 pose you were tired of Mademoiselle de Cheverny, 
 and welcomed the earliest chance of getting rid of 
 her to M. le Vicomte de Championnet. You and 
 the Vicomte, Monsieur, are a pair of demons ! " 
 
 *' And you, Madame, are receiving your deserts? 
 Did M. de la Valette direct you to the convent ? " 
 
 *' No ! " she cried. " Instinct guided me here, 
 and when the Chatelain said you had left Sainte 
 Roxane with M. le Vicomte, I knew some new 
 devilry was afoot. But you shall both pay for your 
 sport : Audran de Championnet escaped from the 
 Frog dungeon through a forged pardon, and he shall 
 return there to die a rat's death amid rats ; while 
 you, M. le Marquis, shall find a home in the Bas- 
 tille. Here is M. le Due's order for the Vicomte's 
 release, but he will not need it now ! " and 
 Madame, snatching the second pardon from her 
 bosom, wrenched it into a hundred pieces and called 
 on her lacqueys to take me prisoner. 
 
 I whipped out my sword, and at the same mo- 
 ment the Marquis held to the gaze of the Duchesse 
 the slip of paper he had won from Monseigneur 
 through the agency of his fighting-cock Saint Peter, 
 and Madame, recognising that she was indeed the 
 
LIFE AND LOVE 247 
 
 dupe, burst into a hurricane of oaths that made 
 I'Abbesse Cecile cover her ears and beat a hasty re- 
 treat to the convent. 
 
 Then the Duchesse laughed, and the empty echo 
 of that laugh will ring in my heart till I die ; but, 
 with the gallantest sangfroid that ever was, she 
 alighted from her carriage and laid her hand on M. 
 de Merivale's arm. 
 
 '^ Drive the Vicomte de Championnet and Madame 
 la Vicomtesse to Cheverny ! " she cried, turning to 
 her lacqueys. " Come, M. le Marquis, I am tired : 
 lead me to the convent ; " and, with a last flash 
 of her eyes at Aurelie, the Duchesse swept out of 
 sight. 
 
 A week later we heard she had secretly married 
 the Chevalier de Riom, and although there was the 
 devil to pay at the Palais-Royal, there was peace at 
 Cheverny. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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