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"Oh, nothing; balance his head with a little lead perhaps. He's a giddy-pate!" said the commandant, ironically. "Are you joking, colonel?" cried Mademoiselle de Verneuil. "Come!" said the commandant, nodding to the young man, "make haste, let us be off." At this impertinence Mademoiselle de Verneuil became calm and smiling.
Before entering it Mademoiselle de Verneuil was witness of a strange scene of this strange war, to which, however, she gave little attention; she feared to be recognized by some of her enemies, and this dread hastened her steps. Five or six thousand peasants were camping in a field. Their clothing was not in any degree warlike; in fact, this tumultuous assembly resembled that of a great fair.
They re-entered the room together, and though Mademoiselle de Verneuil was as completely satisfied in heart and vanity as any woman ever could be, the unfathomable gentleness of her eyes, the demure smile on her lips, the rapidity of the motions of a gay dance, kept the secret of her thoughts as the sea swallows those of the criminal who casts a weighted body into its depths.
The poverty of the sacerdotal vestments, the feeble voice of the priest, which echoed like a murmur through the open space, the praying men filled with conviction and united by one and the same sentiment, the bare cross, the wild and barren temple, the dawning day, gave the primitive character of the earlier times of Christianity to the scene. Mademoiselle de Verneuil was struck with admiration.
To see her thus was to desire to possess her at any cost. She knew that, and the sense it gave her of her own beauty shed upon her whole person an inexpressible charm. The marquis felt the storm of love, of rage, of madness, rising in his heart; he wrung the count's hand violently, and left the room. "Is he gone?" said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, returning to her place.
Then, leaving his mother to fathom the mystery, he turned to the landlady and whispered: "Try to find out who that fellow is; and whether he is really accompanying the young lady; and why." "So," said Madame du Gua, looking at Corentin, "you are quite sure, citizen, that Mademoiselle de Verneuil is living?" "She is living in flesh and blood as surely, madame, as the citizen du Gua Saint-Cyr."
Nor was Madame de Verneuil less indignant than the Queen; for even while affecting an extreme devotion, and surrounding herself with ecclesiastics, who, not content with labouring to effect her salvation, were also feeding her vanity with the most fulsome panegyrics, she could ill brook to see herself so easily forgotten; and once more she indulged in such indecent liberties with the name of Marie de Medicis that the King, whose patience was the more easily exhausted from the fact that he believed himself to be at last independent of her fascinations, was again driven to resort to the assistance of M. de Sully, in order to compel the restoration of the written promise of marriage which he had been weak enough to place in her hands.
"Yes, it's safe enough unless the Chouans come to life." Mademoiselle de Verneuil picked up the count's gun gaily, and smiled satirically as she said to her prisoner, "Adieu, monsieur le comte, au revoir!" Then she darted down the path, having replaced the broad hat upon her head. "I have learned too late," said the count, "not to joke about the virtue of a woman who has none."
Even La Galigaï herself was startled by so astounding a proposition; but she soon discovered, from the resolute attitude assumed by the Marquise, that her powerful intercession with the King was not otherwise to be secured; and it was consequently with even less of hope than apprehension that the agitated Mistress of the Robes kissed the hand of Madame de Verneuil, and assured her that she would leave no effort untried to obtain the consent of her royal mistress to her wishes.
Madame de Verneuil was no sooner apprised of the landing of Marie de Medicis than, after having vehemently reproached the King for a haste which she designated as insulting to herself, she made instant preparations for her return to Paris, resolutely refusing to assist at the ceremonious reception of the new Queen; nor could the expostulations of Henry, even accompanied, as they were, by the most profuse proofs of his continued affection, induce her to rescind her determination.
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