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Updated: June 18, 2025
"So be it; but first, let me avenge my mother," cried Eugene, raising his whip on high. "Eugene, Eugene," exclaimed the Duke de Bouillon, trying to reach his kinsman in time to prevent the descending stroke, "you are mistaken. This gentleman is no intruder in the coach of the Louvois; it is Barbesieur de Louvois himself!"
Strozzi went up to the table, laid his offering on the plate, and bowed: "Will you allow me to take my seat?" said he, humbly, while he took a chair opposite, which old Martino had drawn back for his accommodation. "Do you see, my lord?" said Martino to Barbesieur; "he imagines the marchioness present at all his meals." "He must be undeceived," said Barbesieur, roughly.
So saying, Barbesieur shouldered his gun, whistled to his dogs, and went off to the chase; while Strozzi, his eyes on the dial of the clock, awaited the hour for visiting his inapproachable wife. The marchioness was in an apartment situated in the centre of the wing which her affectionate husband had fitted up for her incarceration.
"Before I had seen you, I approved your act, and bade God bless the son that had avenged his mother's wrongs upon her traducer. Ah, Eugene! my affianced, say that you do not hate me! I knew that you were the son of the Countess de Soissons, and yet I loved YOU! perhaps the more, that Barbesieur was your enemy." "And I love you, my own one, despite your parentage.
Give me your hand. I take you for my friend, and trust you. Come with me to my laboratory." So saying, he passed his arm within that of his brother-in-law, and led him to the opposite end of the room. Barbesieur laid his hand on the bolt, but the door was locked.
Barbesieur then, emphasizing each word, replied: "I found a parchment on which were inscribed these words: 'Receipt for procuring death by inhalation. Queen Katherina de Medicis." "That is it, that is it," howled Strozzi, and in his ecstasy he flung his arms around Barbesieur's great body.
You are the only person that ever advised me to take his life, and I believe you, and trust you. Yes, sir, take my word for it, Eugene of Savoy shall die!" "How will you go about it?" asked Barbesieur. An expression of cunning was seen to steal over the face of the madman, as he replied, "That is my secret, sir."
"Later," said Louvois. "I must first speak with my son." "I am here," cried Barbesieur, who had silently entered the room. "Leave us," said Louvois to the valet, "and when Count Barbesieur has retired, admit the lady. He paused, and caught at the arm-chair for support. He had become suddenly dizzy, his face grew scarlet, his eyes blood-shot, and his breathing oppressed.
"Insulted before the whole court," murmured Louvois. "Pshaw! Don't take it so much to heart. It is not your first affront. You know full well that if old women get the better of you to-day, you will outwit them to-morrow. Witness your feud of years with De Maintenon." "I shall not outwit them this time, Barbesieur. The duchess has played her cards too dexterously for me to escape.
With a deep inclination of the head, the duke returned his glove to Eugene, who, greatly affected, could scarcely murmur his thanks. With glaring eyes and scowl of hatred, Barbesieur had listened, while his brother-in-law's repudiation of the tie that bound them to one another had deepened and widened the gashes of his disgrace.
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