The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 4, 1906, Page 5

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY 4 from Do- and crossing to Calals without mis- hap cipated with pleasure the King's when he th satisfactior let this bag straightforwar place the packet in the po that T had done so I a4 a new cipher a4 satisty the King a I dismissed spose of other difficulties om my mind hours later, however, I was ened. A courler arri st ng me M mids prep the arsenal, me an order to atte his Ma- n order couched in the most ab- and peremptory terms, ané lacking expressions which the use when he wrote brief and so formal— for T was on the point not reached me for years when I had a grave crisi to it to hide my ut me. with an effort, eourier, asked him, relessness, what t. His answer fears, though it He reported that n taken ill—or so the )ug when he sent er chamber, your excel- that her Ma- urged ver, the man could not I was left to nurse res during the long ride tov where we arrived in the evening. Dismounting in the the door of my apartments, I fresh surprise awaiting me in the shape of Monsieur de Concini, the Italian g to meet me before my of the stirrup, announced advanch was out he came from the King, who desired instant attendance in the Queen's closet Knowing Concinl to be one of those hose influence with her Majesty had more then once tempted the King to the most violent measures against her—from whick 1 had with difficulty dissuaded him ~1 augured the worst from the choice of d alike in ., my Lord,” h e began to whi t 1 would remove my boots , and in five min- aid, “‘mjy rs are st you to at- “Pardon me,” he strict; and they are to réq tend his Majesty immediately. He -ex- pected yo n hour ago. 1 was thunderstruck at this—at the mes- sage, and.at the man's manner—and for a moment I could scarcely restrain my in- dignation. I contented mys: however, with signifying my assent by a nod, and without mere ado followed him toward the Queen partments. In the ante-chamber were several per- sons, who, as 1 passed, saluted me with an alr of shyness and incertitude which was enmough of itself to put me on my guard. Concinl attended me to the door of the chamber; there he fell back, and Mile, Galigai, who was in waiting, an- nounced me. I entered, assuming a Serene countenance, and found the King and Queen _together, no other person being present. The Queen was lying at length on a couch, while Henry, seated on a stool at her feet, seemed to be engaged in soothing end reassuring her. On my entrance he broke off and rose to his feet. “Here he is at last,” he sald, barely looking at me. “Now, you will, dear heart ask him your questions. I have had no communication with nim, as you know, for I have been with you since morn- ing.” The Queen, whose face was flushed with fever, made & fretful movement, but aid not answer. “Do you wish me to ask him?"’ Henry sald, with admirable patience. “Jf you think it is worth while,” she muttered, turning sullenly dnd eying me from the middle of her pillows with dis- dain and ill temper Y will, then,” he answer, and he turned to me. “Monsieur de Rosny,” he said in e formal tone, which, even without the unaccustomed monsieuf, cut me to the heart, “be good enough to tell the Queen how the key to my secret cipher, which I intrusted to you, has come to be in Mme. de Verneull'’s possession.” I looked at him in the profoundest as- tonishment, and for a moment remained silent, trying to collect my thoughts un- der this unexpected blow. The Queen saw my hesitation and laughed spitefully. “I am afraid, sire,” she sald, “that you have overrated this gentleman’s inge- nuity, though doubtless it has been much exercised in your service.” Henry's face grew red with vexation. “Speak, man!” he cried. “How came she by it?” ““Mme. de Verneuil?” I sald. The Queen laughed again. “‘Had you not better take him out first, sire,’”” she said scornfully, “and tell him what to say?”’ “'Fore God, madame,” the King cried passionately, “you try me too far. Have I not told you a hundred times, and sworn to you, that I did not give Mme. de Verneufl this key?” “If you did not give her that.” the Queen muttered sullenly, picking at the silken coverlid which lay on her feet, “you have given her all else. You can't deny it.” Henry let a gesture of uespair escape him. ‘“‘Are we to go back to that?’ he said. Then turning to me, ‘“Tell her, said between his teeth, “and tell me, Ventre Saint Gris—are yod dumb, man?” Discerning nothing for it at the moment save to bow before this storm which had arisen so guddenly, and from a quarter the least expected, 1 hastened to comply. I had not proceeded far with my story, however, before I saw that it won no credence with the Queen, but rather con- firmed her in her bellef that the King had given to another what he had denied to her. And more, I saw that in propor- tion as the tale failed to convince her, it excited the King’s wrath and disappoint- ment. At last, when I came tp a lame conclusion—since I could explain nothing except that the key was gone—he could not restrain himself no longer. In a tone in which he had never addressed me be- fore, he asked me why I had not, on the instant, communicated the loss to him; and when I would nave defended myself by adducing the reason I have given above, overwhelmed me with abuse and reproaches, which, as they were uttered in the Queen's presence, and would be repeated, I knew, to the Concinis and Galigais of her suite, who had no occa- slon to love me, carried a double sting. Nevertheless for a time and until he had somewhat worn himself out, I let Henry proceed. Then, taking advantage of the first pause, I interposed. Remind- ing him that he had never had cause to accuse me of carelessness before, I re- called the twenty-two ye: during which I had served him faithfully, and the en- mities 1 had incurred for his sake; and having by these means placed the discus- sion on a more equal footing, I descended again to particulars, and asked respect- fully if I might know on whose authority Mme. de Verneuil was sald to have the cinber. “On her own!” the Queen cried hys- terically. *“Don’t try to deceive me, for it will be in vain. I know she has it; apd if the King did not give it to her, who 4id?” “That s the question, madame,” I sald. “It is one easily answered,” she re- torted. “If you do not know, ask her.” “But, perhaps, madame, she will not answer,” I ventured. ““Then command her to answer in the King's name!” the Queen replied, her cheeks burning with fever. *“And he will not, then has the King no prisops— no fetters smooth enough for those dafmty ankles?" This was a home question, and Henry, who never showed to less advantage than when he stood between two women, cast a sheepish glance at me. Unfortunately the Queen caught the look, which was not ('3 Lo rr WaS YoU WO NOMUBALED TERRET TOZE intended for her, and on the instant it awoke all her former suspiclons. Sup- posing that she had dlscovered our collu- slon, she flung herself back with a cry of rage, and, bursting into a passion of tears, gave way to frantlo reproaches, walling and throwing herself about with & violence which could not but injure one in her condition. The King stared at her for a moment {n sheer dismay. Then his chagrin turned to anger, which, as he dared not vent it on her, took my direction. He pointed im- petuously to the door. ‘‘Begone, sir!” he sald in e passion, and with the utmost harshness. “You have done mischief enough here. God grant that we see the end of it! Go—go!” he continued, quite beside himself with fury. *‘Send Galigal here, and do you go to your lodging until you hear from me!” Overwhelmed and almost stupefled by the catastrophe, 'I found my way out I hardly knew how, and sending in the woman, made my escaps from the ante- chamber. But hasten as I might, my disorder betrayed me; within an hour it ‘was known at Nemours that his Majesty had dismissed me with high words—some said with a blow—and half a dozen cour- lers were on the road to Paris with the news. In my place some might have given up all for lost; but in addition to & sense of rectitude, and the consclousness of desert, I had to support me an intimate knowl- edge of the King's temper, which, though I had never suffered from it %o this ex- tent before, I knew to be on occasion as hot as his anger was short-lived and his disposition generous. But I failed to take into gccount one thing: I mean Henry's anxiety on the Queen’s account, her con- dition, and his desire to have an helr, which so affected the issue that, instead of fulfilling my expectations, the event left me more despondent than before. The CALL. King wrote indeed, and within the hour, and his letter was in form an apology. But it was so lacking in graciousness, so stiff, though it began “My good friend Rosny,” and so Insincere, though it referred to my past services, that when I read it I stood awhile gazing at it, afrald to turn lest De Vic and Varennes, who had brought it, should read my disappoint- _ment {n my face. For I could not hide from myself that the gist of the letter lay not in the expres- slons of regret which opened It, but in the complaint which closed {t; wherein the King sullenly excused his outbreak on the ground of the magnitude of the interests which my carelessness had endangered, and the opening to harass the Queen which I had needlessly given. *“This cl- pher,”” he sald, “has long been a whim with my wife, from whom, for good rea- sons well known to you and connected with the Grand Duke's court, I have thought fit to withhold it. Now nothing will persuade her that I have not granted to another what I refused her. I tremble, my friend, lest you be found to have done more ill to France in a moment of care- lessness than all your services have done &o0d.” Recognizing that I was face to face with a crisis from which I could not escape but by the use of my utmost powers, I assumed a serlous and thoughtful air, and, without affecting to disguise the fact that the King was displeased with me, dismissed the envoys with a few civil speeches, in which I did not fall to speak of his Majesty in terms that even malevo- lence could not twist to my disadvantage. ‘When they were gone, doubtless to tell Henry how I had taken it, I sat down to supper with La Font, Boisruell and two or three gentlemen of my suite, and, with- out appearing too cheerful, contrived to eat with my usual appetite. Afterward I withdrew in the ordinary course to my chamber, and being now at liberty to look the situation in the face, found it as se- rious as I had feared. The falling man has few friends; he must act quickly if he would retain any. I was not slow in de- ciding that my sole chance of an honor- able escape lay In discovering—and that within a few hours—who stole the cipher and conveyed it to Madame de Verneull, and in placing before the Queen such evi- dence of this as must convince her. ination. Later I sent for the rest of my the household—such, I mean, as had sccom- panied me—and ranging them against the walls of my chamber, took a flambeau iz my hand and went the round of them, questioning each and mearking his air and aspect as he answered. But with no re- sult; so that, after following some clews to no purpose, and suspecting several persons who cleared themselves on the spot I became assured that the chain must be taken up at the other end, and the first link found among Madame de Verneuil's following. By this time it was nearly midnight, and my ple were dropping with fa- tigue. Neverth sense of t desperate nature of the c animating them, they formed themselves volun- tarily into s kind of council, sl feel- ing their probity attacked, in which various modes of forcing the secret from those who held it were proposed, Maignan's suggestions being espe- clall violent. Doubting, bowever, whether madame had more than confidant, I secretly made up my ng: to a course which none dared to sug- gest; and then dismissing all to kept only Maignan to lle in my ch ber, that If any points occurred to me in the night I might question him on them. At 4 o'clock I called him and bads him go out quietly and saddle two horses. This done, I slipped out’ myselt without arousing any ons, and, mount- ing at the stables, took the Orleans road through the forest. My plan was to strike at the head. and surprising Mme. Verneuil while the ent still hung uncertain, to Wwrest the secret from her by trick or threat. The en- terprise was desperate, for I knew the stubbornness and arrogance of the inveterate But In a dangerous case any remedy is welcome. 1 reached Malesherbes, where ma- dame was residing with her parents, a little before 7 o'clock, and riding without disguise to the chateau de- manded to see her. She was not yet risen, and the servants, whom my ap- pearance threw into the utmost con- fusion, objected this to me: but I knew that the excuse was' no real one, and answered roughly that I came from the King and must see her. This opened all doors, and In a moment I found myself in her chamber. She was sitting up In bed clothed in an elegant nightgown. and seemed In no wise sur- prised to see me. On the contrary, Breeted with a smile and a taunt- ing word; and omitted nothing that might evince her disdain or hurt my aignity. She let me advance without oftering me a chair; and when, after saluting her, I looked about for one. I found that all the seats excent one very low stool had been removed from room, . thing—I gain first of all This was so like her that it did net astonish me, and I baffled her malice by leaning a it the wall. “This is ne ordinary honor—from Monsieur de Ros- ny'" she said, flouting me with her eyas. s gome on no ordinary mission, madame,” I sald, as gravely as I could. “Mercy™ she exclaimed in a mocking tone. “I should have put on new ribbons, I suppose,” “From the King. madame." I continued, not aljowing myself to be moved, “to in- quire how you obtained possession of his cipher.” She laughed loudly. “Good, simple King,” she sald, “to ask me what he knows already,” . “He does :r know, madame,” I an~ swered ssverely. ‘“What?” she cried in affectsd surprise. “When he gave it to me himself?" “He did not, madame.” “He aid, sir,” she retorted, firing up. “Or, If he did not, prove it—prove it And, by the way,” she continued, lower- ing her voice again and reverting to her former tone of spiteful badinage, “how is the dear Queen? I heard that she was indisposed yesterday, and kept the King in attendance all day, So unfortunate, you know, just at this time.” And her eyes twinkled with malicious amusement, “Madame,” I sald, “may I speak plainiy to you?r” “I never heard that you could speak otherwise,” she answered quickly. “Hven his friends ne called Monsieur de Ros- ny a wit, but only a plain, rough man, Wha' served our royal turn well enough in rough times, but is now growing—'" “A trifle exigeant and superfiuous.” Atter that I saw that it was war to the knifs between us and I asked her In very plain terms it she wers not afraid of the Queen’s enmity, that she dared thus to flaunt the King’s favors before her. “No more than I am afraid of yours,™ she answered hardily. “But If the King is disappointed in his hopes?* ‘“You may suffer; very probabdly will,* she answered, slowly and smiling, “not I. Besides, sir, my child was born dead. He bore that very well.” “Yet, believe me, some Tisk. “In keeping what the King has given me?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows, “No! In keeping what the King has not given you!” I answered sternly. ‘“Where- as, what do you gain?” ““Well,” she replied, raising herself in the bed, while her eyes sparkled and her color rose, “if you like, I will tell you. This pleasure, for one thing—the.pleasure of seeing you there, awkward, booted, stained and standing, waiting my will. That—which perhaps you call a petty Then T gain your ruin, Monsieur de Rosny; I plant & sting in that woman’s breast; and for his Majesty, he has made his bed and may lie on it “Have a care, madame!” I cried, burst- ing with indignation at a speech so shameless and disloyal. “You are play- ing a dangerous game, I warn you!” “And what game have you played® she replied transported on a sudden with equal passion. “Who w: it tore up the promise of marriage which the King ga me? Who was it prevented me being Queen of France? Who was it hurried on the match with this tradeswoman, so that the King found himself wedded be- fore he knew it? Who was it? But enough, enough!” she cried, interrupting herself with a gesture full of rage. “You have ruined me—you and your Queen be~ tween you—and I will ruln you!™ “On the contrary, madame,” I ane swered, collecting myself for a last effort, and, speaking with all the severity which a just indignation inspired, “I have mot ruined you. But if you do not tell me that which I am here to learn—I willl" She laughed out loud. “Oh, you simple- ton!” she sald. “And you call yourself & statesman! Do you not see that if I do not tell it you are disgraced yourself and powerless, and can do me no harm? Tell it you? When I have you all on the hip —you, the King, the Queen! Not for & million crowns, Monsieur de Rosny!™ “And that is your answer, madame?™ I sald, choking with rage. It had been long since anybody had dared so to beard me. “Yes,” she replied stoutly, “it isl Or, stay; you shall not go empty-handed." And thrusting her arm under the pillaw she drew out after a moment's search & small packet, which she held out toward me. “Take it,” she said, with a tsunting laugh. “It has served my turn. What the King gave me, I give you.” Seeing that it was the missing kay to the c‘lpglr, 1 swallowed my rage mgooh 1t; and being assured by this time it 1 could effect mothing by staying longer I turned on my heel, with rudeness equal to her own, and without taking leave of her flung the door open and went out. I flung myself into the saddle and galleped off, followed by Maignan, who presently to my surprise, blurted out & clumsy word of congratulation. 1 turned on him swearing at him n‘:mv meant. “You have got It wsid tmidly, pointing to the packet, oh I mechaniece ally held in my hand. ‘And to what purpose?” I oyied. of this opportunity of uploadidg some my wrath. “I want, not paper, bu the secret, fool! You may have the pa= per for yourself if you will tell me how madame got {t.” Nevertheless the words led me to look at the packet. I opened it, and ha satisfied myself that it contained the inal, and not a copy. was putting wp again when my eyes fell og & small fi of blood which marked one corner cover. It was not larger than a of corn, yet it awoke, first, a vague accusa- tion, and then a memory, which as I rode grew stronger and more definite, until, on & sudden, discovery flashed upon me—and the truth. I remembered whers I had seen spots of blood before—on the papers I had handed to Ferret, and remembersd, too, whers that blood had come from. I looked at the cut now and found that it had nearly healed. Of a certainfy this per had gone through my hands that s:yl It had been among the others, there- fore it must have been passed over to Ferret inside another when I first opened the bag! The rogue, getting it and seeing his opportunity, and that [ did not sus- pect, had doubtless secreted it, probably while I was attending to my hand. I bad not suspected him before, be- cause I had ticked off the earlier papers as I handed them to him and had searched only among the rest in the bag for the missing one. Now I won- dered that I had not done 5o and seen the truth from the begivning; and in my impatience I found the league through the forest, though the sun was not yet high and the trees sheltered us, Contisued omn Paze 6 madams, you run