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Updated: June 19, 2025
Then she stared at me, wide-eyed in horror. "That is not true," she pleaded, yet without conviction. "He is not in danger of his life. They can prove nothing against him. Monsieur de Saint-Eustache could find no evidence here nothing."
History, he had promised himself, should know him as Louis the Just, and he would do naught that might jeopardize his claim to that proud title. "There is the evidence of this Saint-Eustache!" "Would Your Majesty hang a dog upon the word of that double traitor?" "Hum! You are a great advocate, Marcel. You avoid answering questions; you turn questions aside by counter-questions."
Who told the Keeper of the Seals where you were to be found?" "Oh, that?" I answered easily. "Why, I never doubted it. It was the coxcomb Saint-Eustache. I whipped him " I stopped short. There was something in Marsac's black face, something in his glance, that forced the unspoken truth upon my mind. "Mother in heaven!" I cried. "Do you mean that it was Mademoiselle de Lavedan?"
I do not think that he will be able to ride home." Anatole peered at the pale young gentleman on the ground, then he turned his little wizened face upon me, and grinned in a singularly solemn fashion. Monsieur de Saint-Eustache was little loved, it seemed.
And as for Saint-Eustache he was born under a propitious star, indeed, if he escapes the gallows. He little dreams that I am still to be reckoned with. There, Castelroux, I will start for Lavedan at once." Already I was striding to the door, when the Gascon called me back. "What good will that do?" he asked.
What matter that I had said I would not leave Lavedan until I had her promise, whilst in reality I had hurled my threat at Saint-Eustache that I would meet him at Toulouse, and passed my word to the Vicomtesse that I would succour her husband? I gave no thought to the hidden threat with which Saint-Eustache had retorted that from Lavedan to Toulouse was a distance of some twenty leagues.
The Vicomtesse withdrew in high dudgeon to her chamber, and I did not see her again that evening. Mademoiselle I saw once, for a moment, and she employed that moment to question me touching the origin of my quarrel with Saint-Eustache. "Did he really lie, Monsieur de Lesperon?" she asked. "Upon my honour, mademoiselle," I answered solemnly, "I have plighted my troth to no living woman."
I told him, I remember, indeed, which was very decided," she added, with an important and even solemn air, "that he would be a rebel yes, Madame, a rebel. I told him so at Saint-Eustache. But I see that your Majesty was right. I am very unfortunate! He had more ambition than love." Here a tear of pique escaped from her eyes, and rolled quickly down her cheek, as a pearl upon a rose.
'If what Monsieur de Saint-Eustache has told me touching your guest should prove to be true, said he, 'I would prefer not to meet him under your roof, monsieur. 'Monsieur de Saint-Eustache, my master replied, 'is not a person whose word should have weight with any man of honour. But in spite of that, Monsieur de Marsac held to his resolve, and although he would offer no explanation in answer to my master's many questions, you were not aroused.
You can follow the dialogue, by turns grave and shrill, of the treble and the bass; you can see the octaves leap from one tower to another; you watch them spring forth, winged, light, and whistling, from the silver bell, to fall, broken and limping from the bell of wood; you admire in their midst the rich gamut which incessantly ascends and re-ascends the seven bells of Saint-Eustache; you see light and rapid notes running across it, executing three or four luminous zigzags, and vanishing like flashes of lightning.
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