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The Conspirators, a novel by Alexandre Dumas

Chapter 31. A Chapter Of Saint-Simon

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_ CHAPTER XXXI. A CHAPTER OF SAINT-SIMON

Four days passed thus, during which Buvat--remaining absent from the office on pretext of indisposition--succeeded in completing the two copies, one for the Prince de Listhnay, the other for Dubois. During these four days--certainly the most agitated of his life--he was so taciturn and gloomy that Bathilde several times asked him what was the matter; but as he always answered nothing, and began to sing his little song, Bathilde was easily deceived, particularly as he still left every morning as if to go to the office--so that she saw no material alteration from his ordinary habits.

As to D'Harmental, he received every morning a visit from the Abbe Brigaud, announcing that everything was going on right; and as his own love affairs were quite as prosperous, D'Harmental began to think that to be a conspirator was the happiest thing on the earth.

As to the Duc d'Orleans, suspecting nothing, he continued his ordinary life, and had invited the customary guests to his Sunday's supper, when in the afternoon Dubois entered his room.

"All, it is you, abbe! I was going to send to you to know if you were going to make one of us to-night."

"You are going to have a supper then, monseigneur?" asked Dubois.

"Where do you come from with your fast-day face? Is not to-day Sunday?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"Well, then, come back to us; here is the list of the guests. Noce, Lafare, Fargy, Ravanne, Broglie; I do not invite Brancas: he has been wearisome for some days. I think he must be conspiring. Then La Phalaris, and D'Averne, they cannot bear each other; they will tear out each other's eyes, and that will amuse us. Then we shall have La Souris, and perhaps Madame de Sabran, if she has no appointment with Richelieu."

"This is your list, monseigneur?"

"Yes."

"Well, will your highness look at mine now?"----"Have you made one, too?"

"No, it was brought to me ready made."

"What is this?" asked the regent, looking at a paper which Dubois presented to him.

"'Nominal list of the officers who request commissions in the Spanish army: Claude Francois de Ferrette, Knight of Saint Louis, field marshal and colonel of cavalry; Boschet, Knight of Saint Louis, and colonel of infantry, De Sabran, De Larochefoucault-Gondrel, De Villeneuve, De Lescure, De Laval.' Well, what next?"

"Here is another;" and he presented a second letter to the duke.

"'Protestation of the nobility.'"

"Make your lists, monseigneur, you are not the only one, you see--the Prince de Cellamare has his also."

"'Signed without distinction of ranks, so that there may be no dissatisfaction:--De Vieux-Pont, De la Pailleterie, De Beaufremont, De Latour-du-Pin, De Montauban, Louis de Caumont, Claude de Polignac, Charles de Laval, Antoine de Chastellux, Armand de Richelieu.' Where did you fish up all this, you old fox?"

"Wait, monseigneur, we have not done yet. Look at this."

"'Plan of the conspirators: Nothing is more important than to make sure of the strong places near the Pyrenees, to gain the garrison of Bayonne.' Surrender our towns! give the keys of France into the hands of the Spanish! What does this mean, Dubois?"

"Patience, monseigneur; we have better than that to show you; we have here the letters from his majesty Philip V. himself."

"'To the king of France--' But these are only copies."

"I will tell you soon where the originals are."

"Let us see, my dear abbe, let us see. 'Since Providence has placed me on the throne of Spain,' etc., etc. 'In what light can your faithful subjects regard the treaty which is signed against me?' etc., etc. 'I beg your majesty to convoke the States-General of the kingdom.' Convoke the States-General! In whose name?"

"In the name of Philip V."

"Philip V. is king of Spain and not of France. Let him keep to his own character. I crossed the Pyrenees once to secure him on his throne; I might cross them a second time to remove him from it."

"We will think of that later--I do not say no; but for the present we have the fifth piece to read--and not the least important as you will see."

And Dubois presented another paper to the regent, which he opened with such impatience that he tore it in opening it.

"Never mind," said Dubois, "the pieces are good; put them together and read them."

The regent did so, and read--

"'Dearly and well beloved.'

"Ah!" said the regent, "it is a question of my deposition, and these letters, I suppose, were to be given to the king?"

"To-morrow, monseigneur."

"By whom?"----"The marshal."

"Villeroy?"

"Himself."

"How did he determine on such a thing?"

"It was not he; it was his wife, monseigneur."

"Another of Richelieu's tricks?"

"You are right, monseigneur."

"And from whom do you get these papers?"

"From a poor writer to whom they have been given to be copied, since, thanks to a descent made on Laval's house, a press which he had hidden in the cellar has ceased to work."

"And this writer is in direct communication with Cellamare? The idiots!"

"Not at all, monseigneur; their measures are better taken. The good man has only had to deal with the Prince de Listhnay."

"Prince de Listhnay! Who is he?"

"Rue du Bac, 110."

"I do not know him."

"Yes, you do, monseigneur."

"Where have I seen him?"

"In your antechamber."

"What! this pretended Prince de Listhnay?"

"Is no other than that scoundrel D'Avranches, Madame de Maine's valet-de-chambre."

"Ah! I was astonished that she was not in it."

"Oh! she is at the head, and if monseigneur would like to be rid of her and her clique, we have them all."

"Let us attend to the most pressing."

"Yes, let us think of Villeroy. Have you decided on a bold stroke?"

"Certainly. So long as you confine yourself to parading about like a man at a theater or a tournament, very well; so long as you confine yourself to calumnies and impertinences against me, very good; but when it becomes a question of the peace and tranquillity of France, you will find, Monsieur le Marechal, that you have already compromised them sufficiently by your military inaptitude, and we shall not give you an opportunity of doing so again by your political follies."

"Then," said Dubois, "we must lay hold of him?"

"Yes; but with certain precautions. We must take him in the act."

"Nothing easier. He goes every morning at eight o'clock to the king."

"Yes."

"Be to-morrow at half-past seven at Versailles."

"Well?"

"You will go to his majesty before him."----"Very well."

The regent and Dubois talked for some little time longer, after which Dubois took his leave.

"There is no supper this evening," said Dubois to the usher, "give notice to the guests; the regent is ill."

That evening at nine o'clock the regent left the Palais Royal, and, contrary to his ordinary habit, slept at Versailles. _

Read next: Chapter 32. A Snare

Read previous: Chapter 30. The Fox And The Goose

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