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Updated: June 22, 2025
A courier, arriving from an old friend of mine at Court, bore me a letter with the information that Monsieur de Chatellerault was come to Lavedan at the King's instigation to sue for my daughter's hand in marriage. The reasons were not far to seek. The King, who loves him, would enrich him; the easiest way is by a wealthy alliance, and Roxalanne is accounted an heiress.
"And bid your fellows mount at once and await me in the courtyard. We are not going to Beaugency, Gilles. We ride north to Lavedan."
The reason for this was, of course, that wherever Roxalanne was to be found there, generally, were we both to be found also. Yet had I advantages that must have gone to swell a rancour based as much upon jealousy as any other sentiment, for whilst he was but a daily visitor at Lavedan, I was established there indefinitely. Of the use that I made of that time I find it difficult to speak.
Here was a fine mood for a man who had entered upon his business by pledging himself to win and wed this girl in cold and supreme indifference to her personality. And that pledge, how I cursed it during those days at Lavedan! How I cursed Chatellerault, cunning, subtle trickster that he was!
"At Lavedan you will be safe, my friend," he assured me; "for, as I have told you, we are under no suspicion. Let me urge you to remain until the King shall have desisted from further persecuting us." And when I protested and spoke of trespassing, he waived the point with a brusqueness that amounted almost to anger.
I clenched my hands, and by an effort I restrained myself to learn that I had guessed aright. "Some two months ago," he said, "I journeyed to Lavedan, as you may remember. I saw you, mademoiselle for a brief while only, it is true and ever since I have seen nothing else but you." His voice went a shade lower, and passion throbbed in his words.
She had inherited as little of her character as of her appearance. Both in feature and in soul Mademoiselle de Lavedan was a copy of that noble, gallant gentleman, her father. One other was present at that meal, of whom I shall have more to say hereafter.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" exclaimed the other, a note of responsive anger sounding in his voice. "Have you gone mad, Stanislas?" "Abandon this pretence," was the contemptuous answer. "Two days ago at Lavedan, my friend, they informed me how complete was your recovery; from what they told us, it was easy to guess why you tarried there and left us without news of you.
What is to become of Roxalanne and me when they shall have hanged you and have driven us from Lavedan? By God's death, a fine season this to talk of the dignity of our station! Did I not warn you, malheureux, to leave party faction alone? You laughed at me." "Madame, your memory does me an injustice," he answered in a strangled voice. "I never laughed at you in all my life."
He raised his livid countenance, and his eyes blazed impotent fury. "Par la mort Dieu!" he cried hoarsely, "you shall give me satisfaction for this!" "If you account yourself still unsatisfied, I am at your service when you will," said I courteously. Then, before more could be said, I saw Monsieur de Lavedan and the Vicomtesse approaching hurriedly across the parterre.
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