Old Court Life in France, Volume II (of 2). Elliot Frances Minto Dickinson

can attach a higher value than I do to the good opinion of your Eminence," interposed Mademoiselle de Lafayette with warmth; "but I do not think you have at all proved it in what you have just said. Although I think I deserve it," she added timidly.

      The Cardinal contemplated her attentively for some moments. His face was set, his eyes flashed, and his hands which were clenched rested on his knees. "I have only one word more to add," said he in an angry voice. "Any idea of favour with the King without my support is a delusion." He was rapidly losing self-restraint. This girl had lashed him into a fury. She saw it, but felt no fear.

      "Your Eminence, I think only of my duty," she replied with firmness. "I fear no threats. I can make no promise."

      At these words the Cardinal rose. His face was swollen with passion; a wicked fire gleamed in his eyes; her coolness transported him beyond endurance. "Once more, Mademoiselle de Lafayette, remember what I say. My resolutions are unalterable; I trample down everything. Without my assistance, beware! Think of the future. Recall the past. My enemies are rotting in their graves – my friends rule France." Then, speaking more calmly, he added, "You are too great a fool to understand what you are doing. I can pardon your presumption, however, because I know how to cure it. Mademoiselle de Lafayette, you may withdraw."

       CHAPTER II.

      THE KEEPER OF THE ROYAL CONSCIENCE

      RICHELIEU, thoroughly exasperated, determined to crush the girl who had dared to brave him. He called to his aid his creature Chavigny. Chavigny was intriguing, acute, and superficial; an admirable tool – for he originated nothing. Years ago he had sold himself to Richelieu, but as he always went out of his way to abuse him, the connection was not suspected. Under the direction of the Cardinal, he had entirely gained the King's confidence. His easy good-nature encouraged the shy Louis to tell him all his secrets, and to consult him in all his difficulties.

      Chavigny, who up to this time had attached little importance to the King's inclination for the new maid of honour, looking upon it simply as a passing admiration for an attractive girl, too inexperienced to take advantage of his favour, upon being questioned, informed Richelieu that the King wrote to her daily, and that she replied as often. Richelieu at once resolved on his course of action. He would in future see the correspondence himself. Each letter was to be skilfully unsealed by his secretary, Desmaret, and read, before it was delivered.

      It was not possible for even the hard, stern Richelieu to peruse these letters unmoved. He had been once young and passionate himself. He could not but appreciate the delicacy and eloquence with which the King veiled his passion, and softened intense love into the semblance of friendship. Nor could he avoid feeling some admiration for the sweet and simple nature that breathed in every line written by the maid of honour. Both were evidently ignorant of the ardour of their mutual attachment. What was to be done? He must consult the King's confessor.

      Father Caussin, a Jesuit, had been only nine months confessor to the King. He was learned, conscientious, and guileless. Richelieu had selected him for this important post in the belief that he would assume no political influence over his royal penitent. The General of the order had objected to his appointment on the same grounds. In person Caussin was tall and spare. His long black cassock hung about his thin figure in heavy folds. His face was pale and emaciated. Yet a kindly smile played about his mouth, and his black eyes beamed with benevolence. Such was the ecclesiastic who seated himself opposite to Richelieu.

      "My father," said the Cardinal, saluting him stiffly, and leaning forward and laying his hands on some papers placed beside him on a table, as though they related to what he was about to say. – "I have summoned you on a very grave matter." Nothing could be more solemn than the Cardinal's voice and manner. The pleasant smile faded at once out of the confessor's face. He became as grave, if not as stern as the Cardinal, leant his head upon his bony hand, and turned his eyes intently upon him. "Circumstances have come to my knowledge," continued Richelieu, "which, in my opinion, justify me in asking you a very searching question." Caussin moved uneasily, and in a somewhat troubled manner interrupted him.

      "Your Eminence will not, I trust, desire to trench upon the privacy of my office, – for in that case I could not satisfy you."

      Richelieu waved his hand impatiently, placed one knee over the other with great deliberation, and leant back in his chair. "My father, I am surprised at your insinuation. We are both Churchmen, and, I presume, understand our respective duties. The question that I would ask is one to which you may freely reply. Does it appear to you that his Majesty has of late shown indifference in his spiritual duties?" Caussin drew a long breath, and, though relieved, was evidently unwilling to answer.

      "Pardon me, my father," again spoke the Cardinal, a slight tone of asperity perceptible in his mellow voice, "I ask you this question entirely in the interest of the holy order to which you belong. Many benefices have fallen vacant lately, and it is possible, – it is possible, I repeat, that I may advise his Majesty to fill up some of them from the ranks of the Company of Jesus." His half-closed eyes rested significantly on Father Caussin as he said these words.

      Caussin listened unmoved. "There are, doubtless," said he, "many members of our order who would do honor to your selection, Cardinal. For myself, I should want no preferment; – indeed, I should decline it." He spoke with the frankness of perfect sincerity.

      Richelieu looked down, and worked the points of his fingers impatiently on the table. His hands were singularly white and shapely, with taper fingers. As a young man he had loved to display them; the habit had remained with him when he was thoughtful or annoyed. "Well, my father," said he, "your answer?"

      Caussin eyed the Cardinal suspiciously, – "I am happy to reassure your Eminence; his Majesty is, as usual, in the most pious sentiments."

      "Hum! – that is strange, very strange; I fear that the benevolence of your nature, my father – " Caussin drew himself up, and a look as much approaching defiance as it was possible for him to assume passed into his pleasant face. Richelieu did not finish the offensive sentence. "It is strange," he went on to say, "for I have reason to know– I ask you for no information, reverend father – that his Majesty's feelings are engaged in a mundane passion which, if encouraged, may lead him from those precepts and exercises in which he has hitherto lived in obedience to the Church."

      "To what passion do you allude?" asked Caussin cautiously.

      "To the infatuation his Majesty evinces for the new maid of honour, Louise de Lafayette. The lady is self-willed and romantic. She may lead him into deadly sin."

      Caussin started. "I apprehend nothing of the kind," replied he drily.

      "True, my father, but that is a matter of opinion. I think differently. Absolution, after repentance," continued the Cardinal pompously, "may wash out even crime, but it is for us, – you, his Majesty's confessor, and I, his minister, both faithful servants of the Holy Father," – Caussin looked hard at the Cardinal, who was by no means considered orthodox at Rome, – "it is for us to guard him from even the semblance of evil. I have sent for you, my father, to assist me in placing Louise de Lafayette in a convent. It will be at least a measure of precaution. I shall require all your help, my father; will you give it me?" Richelieu, as he asked this important question, narrowly observed Caussin from under his drooping eyelids. The confessor was evidently embarrassed. His kindly countenance was troubled; and he was some time in answering.

      "To dedicate a young and pure soul to God," he replied, at length, with evident hesitation, "is truly an acceptable work; but has your Eminence considered that the lady in question is of the most blameless life, and that by her example and influence his Majesty may be kept in that path of obedience and faith which some other attachment might not insure?" As he asked this question Caussin leaned forwards towards Richelieu, speaking earnestly.

      "Father Caussin," said the Cardinal, in his hardest manner, and motioning with his hand as though commanding special attention, "we must look in this matter beyond his Majesty's feelings. I have good reason for alarm. A crisis is impending," and he turned again to the papers lying on the table with a significant air. "If Louise de Lafayette has any vocation, let her be advised to encourage it. Consider in what manner you can best bend the King's will to comply. You tell me the lady is a good Catholic;