Chapter XLIV: Place Royale

It was not easy to obtain access to the Comte de Marvejols when one called at the house in Rue de Bretonvilliers. But Bahuchet persisted, although the concierge told him that the count did not choose to receive visitors.

"Please to say to him that it is Bahuchet, the solicitor's clerk, the young man of the little wine shop; and I will wager that your master will receive me instantly."

The concierge ushered him into a room in the right wing, and went to the wing at the rear, where Léodgard then was.

After waiting a long while, the concierge returned and said to the young clerk:

"Monsieur le comte will come; wait."

"Why, in heaven's name, don't you take me to him? It seems to me that that would be much simpler than to make him put himself out to come here."

"Monsieur le comte never receives anybody in the wing that he occupies."

"Wolf's head! what mystery! what ceremony!" said Bahuchet to himself, when he was alone. "If this Seigneur Léodgard were proscribed, condemned to death, if the police had orders to pounce upon him, he could not conceal himself more completely from observation!"

The count's appearance put an end abruptly to the little clerk's conjectures.

"What brings you here? what do you want of me?" demanded Léodgard, roughly.

"I have come, monsieur le comte, because I was told to come. I have come from the marchioness."

"The marchioness! have you seen her?"

"No, monsieur le comte; but she sent her maid to me--a very pretty brunette, on my word!"

"Well--go on!"

"Who handed me a note and bade me bring it to you."

"A letter from Valentine! Give it to me!"

Léodgard snatched the letter from Bahuchet's hands, and eagerly ran through it.

"This letter requires no reply," he said to the little man, after reading it. "You may retire."

Bahuchet made a faint grimace.

"Do you mean, monsieur le comte, that I am to go away like this, as I came?"

Léodgard realized what he had forgotten, and hastily placed a gold piece in the messenger's hand; whereupon Bahuchet withdrew with a radiant face, making innumerable protestations of devotion.

When Léodgard was alone, he again read the note, which contained these words only:

"Beginning to-morrow, try to be on Place Royale between twelve and
two o'clock. A girl who is wholly in my confidence will come--I
cannot now say on what day--and speak to you in my behalf.--Trust
to her, and do whatever she tells you."

The count pressed his lips to the letter, murmuring:

"Ah! you love me, Valentine! I was not in error! And the time drags with you as with me! To-morrow I will be at the place she appoints--Place Royale.--Place Royale! It is a pity that she selected that spot, so near---- But what does it matter, after all? Doubtless it is the proximity of Rue Sainte-Avoie that led her to make that selection. I will go there."

At the period of our tale, the centre of Place Royale was a sort of flower garden,--green turf embellished with flowers and surrounded by trees. Everybody could walk there, and benches placed at short intervals made it possible also to rest there, and read, while breathing the fresh air.

The iron fence which surrounded the square at a later period was placed there during the reign of Louis XIV, at the expense of the owners of the surrounding houses, each of whom contributed a thousand livres toward its construction. The bronze equestrian statue of Louis XIII was not erected until 1639, and the events that we are narrating, beginning in 1634, have thus far brought us only to the autumn of 1637.

It was late in the month of October, but the weather was fair and mild; so that there was a large number of people on Place Royale, where the turf was still green, and some of the rosebushes still bore flowers. But the habitués of the promenade consisted in great part of old men of the quarter, who came there to sit in the sun, and young nursemaids, who brought thither the children they had in charge, who could run about and play on the grass at their ease. There were also divers couples of young lovers, who made appointments to meet along the shady avenues, and seated themselves on solitary benches to talk of their loves.--But why need we tell that? Lovers are of all epochs and of all places of resort!

When Léodgard arrived on the square, he took pains to go to the point farthest removed from the Hôtel de Marvejols, which his wife then occupied. But the square was large; and between the avenues there were spaces and trees which made it impossible to see from one end to the other.

Having walked a few steps along the turf, he sat upon a bench, saying to himself:

"I will wait for this girl whom the marchioness is to send me; she knows me, doubtless, or else her mistress will have described me in such a way that she cannot make a mistake."

Léodgard had been seated on the bench a few moments, gloomy thoughts causing him little by little to forget that he was at a love rendezvous, when a child about two years and a half old collided with him while running by.

It was a little girl with a pink and white complexion, with long light chestnut locks, already curling over her pure and noble brow. Her deep-blue eyes were really larger than her mouth, and they had the dawning expression of a sweet and kindly nature, instinct with playfulness.

The lovely smiling mouth was formed by two lips, perhaps a trifle too thick, which, however, denoted frankness and sincerity; whereas thin lips always denote just the opposite. A pretty dimple on the chin put the finishing touch to the fascinating beauty of the little angel, who, laughing merrily, took refuge between the count's knees, where she seemed to challenge her nurse to catch her.

Léodgard, roused so abruptly from his reflections, was surprised beyond measure to see the child hiding between his legs; but she was so pretty, her smile was so sweet as she looked up at the gentleman to whom she seemed to appeal for protection, that he could not refrain from admiring her and smoothing her hair.

"What a fascinating little girl!" he exclaimed.

A nursemaid soon appeared and said to the child:

"Well, well! what are you doing there, mademoiselle? You are disturbing monsieur and annoying him! Come away quickly!"

A little voice, which could not as yet enunciate distinctly, but which sounded very sweet to the ear, replied:

"No, I don't want to! You go and hide!"

"Once more, mademoiselle, come; monsieur will be angry!"

The little girl looked up at Léodgard as if to see whether he was, in fact, going to scold her; and seeing nothing on his features to indicate anger, she pressed still closer to him, laughing aloud--an expression of the frank, unalloyed joy which one never experiences so fully as at that age.

"This little girl is fascinating!" said the count, after kissing the child on the forehead; "how old is she?"

"Nearly two and a half, monsieur."

"Her parents must idolize her?"

"Oh, yes! her mother loves her dearly, monsieur! And if madame had not been a little indisposed for two or three days, she would have taken mademoiselle out to walk as usual!"

"What lovely eyes! they are so soft and intelligent! She is not a naughty girl, I am sure!"

"Oh, no! monsieur, she is very good--so everybody loves her. She is a little mischievous sometimes--as at this moment, when she doesn't want me to catch her.--But it's all in play, isn't it, Mademoiselle Blanche?"

"Blanche! Blanche!" murmured Léodgard, to whose mind that name recalled his conversation with Jarnonville.--"Ah! so the little girl's name is Blanche?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"And would it be out of place to ask her mother's name?"

"Mon Dieu! no, monsieur; the dear child is the daughter of Madame la Comtesse de Marvejols, who lives yonder--on the other side of the square, beyond the avenue at the left."

When he heard his own name, Léodgard gave a sudden start and pushed away the child who was leaning on him; but Blanche instantly returned to her place between his legs and clung with her little hands to his knee-breeches, crying:

"No, I want to stay with you! Nurse can't catch Blanche!"

The child's voice was so sweet, there was such a winning expression in her lovely eyes, which she fixed upon the count, that he did not feel the courage to spurn her again; a pleasing emotion made his heart beat fast; his sensations were so unfamiliar to him that he could not define them; but that unknown sentiment that found its way to his heart was like a grateful shower falling suddenly upon the parched and arid ground.

He gazed silently at the little girl, whose tiny pink hands were resting upon him.

But the nurse, fearing that the child annoyed the strange gentleman, seized Blanche by the arm and drew her away, saying:

"If you will not come, mademoiselle, I shall go home to your mamma and tell her that her little girl would not come back to her."

One could be perfectly sure of being listened to by Blanche as soon as one mentioned her mother; she instantly left the place she had adopted and took her nurse's hand, saying:

"We go see mamma."

"Bid this gentleman adieu, and ask his pardon for disturbing him."

Blanche turned to Léodgard with a lovely smile, and nodded her head, murmuring:

"Adieu--pardon."

Then the nursemaid took her in her arms and disappeared along one of the leafy avenues.

The count remained where he sat, lost in thought; he was tempted more than once to turn his head and look after Blanche, but he resisted the temptation. After some time, he rose abruptly and left Place Royale, saying to himself:

"It is after two o'clock; no one will come to-day."

The next day, Léodgard went to Place Royale at about the same hour as on the preceding day. Although his mind was full of Valentine, and he was most impatient to see the person whom she was to send to him, when he found himself near the flower beds, where a multitude of children were running about at play, his eyes wandered in all directions, seeking a certain child among them, although he would not admit it to himself.

After walking about for a moment, the count took his seat on a bench--the same one on which he had previously sat. He even waited a short time for two people who were sitting there to leave, instead of taking a seat elsewhere.

He seated himself in such a way that his back was turned to the Hôtel de Marvejols, but he glanced very often toward the greensward where the children were playing.

Suddenly the same sweet voice that had fascinated him the day before rang in his ears, and he saw little Blanche running toward him with outstretched arms, crying:

"The gentleman, nurse, the gentleman."

Léodgard could not help opening his own arms to receive the child; and when little Blanche reached them, he could not resist the temptation to press her to his heart and kiss her.

The nurse soon came up.

"Oh! monsieur," she said, "mademoiselle saw you in the distance and recognized you at once; then I could not possibly hold her back! She began to run toward you, crying: 'The gentleman!'--You must have taken her fancy, for she doesn't go to everybody like that!"

"Is--is the child's mother with you to-day?" the count asked hesitatingly.

"No, monsieur; madame la comtesse is better; but she isn't strong enough to go out yet."

Léodgard seemed more at ease, and he kissed once more the child whom he was entitled to call his daughter, but to whom he said simply:

"Do you know that you are very pretty?"

"Oh, yes!" the child replied, with a smile.

"But it isn't enough to be pretty," said the nurse. "Mademoiselle knows that she must be good and obedient too, or else she would be ugly."

At that moment a poor, half-clad little boy, whose pinched features denoted privation and suffering, stopped a few feet from the bench and held out his hand to ask alms.

Little Blanche, as she glanced at the mendicant, ceased to smile, and with her eyes questioned the nurse, who said:

"He is unfortunate; your mother, you know, always helps them and wants you to do the same; she gives us money for that purpose. Here, mademoiselle, would you like to give it to him yourself?"

Blanche eagerly took the coin which her nurse handed her, and ran to give it to the little beggar, saying:

"Take this--poor boy!"

Léodgard followed the little girl's every movement; when she returned to him, he took her in his arms once more and could not resist the longing to kiss her again.

At that moment he heard a cry of surprise close at hand, and these words fell on his ear:

"O mon Dieu! is it possible? What joy! Monsieur le comte embracing his daughter!"

Léodgard instantly raised his eyes and saw Ambroisine, who had halted a few steps from the bench, and was gazing at him, deeply moved.

To place the child hurriedly on the ground, to rise and walk rapidly away--all that was a matter of a second for Léodgard.

Ambroisine stood as if petrified; even little Blanche seemed surprised at the disappearance of "the gentleman"; and as for the nurse, the words she had heard seemed to daze her, and she did nothing but murmur:

"Is it possible? Jésus bon Dieu! What! that gentleman who was kissing our dear little one--can it be?--was monsieur le comte, her father! How is it, then, that when I told him yesterday that mademoiselle belonged to Madame la Comtesse de Marvejols, he didn't say: 'She is my daughter'?"

"Yes, he is really her father, he is the Comte de Marvejols!" said Ambroisine, with a sigh. "Oh! I am terribly sorry that I showed myself and let those words escape me. But, no matter! he kissed her--and he knew that she was his daughter.--Ah! I must make haste to tell Bathilde--she will be so happy!--Come, Blanche; come, dear child; let us hurry home to your mamma; we are going to make her very happy!"

Ambroisine took Blanche in her arms and returned to the Hôtel de Marvejols, covering with kisses the lovely child, who made no objection and seemed already to share the happiness that she diffused about her.