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diff --git a/old/1454-h/1454-h.htm b/old/1454-h/1454-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..303634d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1454-h/1454-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3292 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Maitre Cornelius, by Honore de Balzac + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Maitre Cornelius, by Honore de Balzac + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Maitre Cornelius + +Author: Honore de Balzac + +Translator: Katharine Prescott Wormeley + +Release Date: February 25, 2010 [EBook #1454] +Last Updated: November 22, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAITRE CORNELIUS *** + + + + +Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + MAITRE CORNELIUS + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Katharine Prescott Wormeley + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DEDICATION + + To Monsieur le Comte Georges Mniszech: + + Some envious being may think on seeing this page illustrated by + one of the most illustrious of Sarmatian names, that I am + striving, as the goldsmiths do, to enhance a modern work with an + ancient jewel,—a fancy of the fashions of the day,—but you and a + few others, dear count, will know that I am only seeking to pay my + debt to Talent, Memory, and Friendship. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>MAITRE CORNELIUS</b> </a> + </h3> + <h3> + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </td> + <td> + A CHURCH SCENE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE TORCONNIER + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE ROBBERY OF THE JEWELS OF THE DUKE OF BAVARIA + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE HIDDEN TREASURE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + MAITRE CORNELIUS + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. A CHURCH SCENE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY + </h2> + <p> + In 1479, on All Saints’ day, the moment at which this history begins, + vespers were ending in the cathedral of Tours. The archbishop Helie de + Bourdeilles was rising from his seat to give the benediction himself to + the faithful. The sermon had been long; darkness had fallen during the + service, and in certain parts of the noble church (the towers of which + were not yet finished) the deepest obscurity prevailed. Nevertheless a + goodly number of tapers were burning in honor of the saints on the + triangular candle-trays destined to receive such pious offerings, the + merit and signification of which have never been sufficiently explained. + The lights on each altar and all the candelabra in the choir were burning. + Irregularly shed among a forest of columns and arcades which supported the + three naves of the cathedral, the gleam of these masses of candles barely + lighted the immense building, because the strong shadows of the columns, + projected among the galleries, produced fantastic forms which increased + the darkness that already wrapped in gloom the arches, the vaulted + ceilings, and the lateral chapels, always sombre, even at mid-day. + </p> + <p> + The crowd presented effects that were no less picturesque. Certain figures + were so vaguely defined in the “chiaroscuro” that they seemed like + phantoms; whereas others, standing in a full gleam of the scattered light, + attracted attention like the principal heads in a picture. Some statues + seemed animated, some men seemed petrified. Here and there eyes shone in + the flutings of the columns, the floor reflected looks, the marbles spoke, + the vaults re-echoed sighs, the edifice itself seemed endowed with life. + </p> + <p> + The existence of Peoples has no more solemn scenes, no moments more + majestic. To mankind in the mass, movement is needed to make it poetical; + but in these hours of religious thought, when human riches unite + themselves with celestial grandeur, incredible sublimities are felt in the + silence; there is fear in the bended knee, hope in the clasping hands. The + concert of feelings in which all souls are rising heavenward produces an + inexplicable phenomenon of spirituality. The mystical exaltation of the + faithful reacts upon each of them; the feebler are no doubt borne upward + by the waves of this ocean of faith and love. Prayer, a power electrical, + draws our nature above itself. This involuntary union of all wills, + equally prostrate on the earth, equally risen into heaven, contains, no + doubt, the secret of the magic influences wielded by the chants of the + priests, the harmonies of the organ, the perfumes and the pomps of the + altar, the voices of the crowd and its silent contemplations. + Consequently, we need not be surprised to see in the middle-ages so many + tender passions begun in churches after long ecstasies,—passions + ending often in little sanctity, and for which women, as usual, were the + ones to do penance. Religious sentiment certainly had, in those days, an + affinity with love; it was either the motive or the end of it. Love was + still a religion, with its fine fanaticism, its naive superstitions, its + sublime devotions, which sympathized with those of Christianity. + </p> + <p> + The manners of that period will also serve to explain this alliance + between religion and love. In the first place society had no meeting-place + except before the altar. Lords and vassals, men and women were equals + nowhere else. There alone could lovers see each other and communicate. The + festivals of the Church were the theatre of former times; the soul of + woman was more keenly stirred in a cathedral than it is at a ball or the + opera in our day; and do not strong emotions invariably bring women back + to love? By dint of mingling with life and grasping it in all its acts and + interests, religion had made itself a sharer of all virtues, the + accomplice of all vices. Religion had passed into science, into politics, + into eloquence, into crimes, into the flesh of the sick man and the poor + man; it mounted thrones; it was everywhere. These semi-learned + observations will serve, perhaps, to vindicate the truth of this study, + certain details of which may frighten the perfected morals of our age, + which are, as everybody knows, a trifle straitlaced. + </p> + <p> + At the moment when the chanting ceased and the last notes of the organ, + mingling with the vibrations of the loud “A-men” as it issued from the + strong chests of the intoning clergy, sent a murmuring echo through the + distant arches, and the hushed assembly were awaiting the beneficent words + of the archbishop, a burgher, impatient to get home, or fearing for his + purse in the tumult of the crowd when the worshippers dispersed, slipped + quietly away, at the risk of being called a bad Catholic. On which, a + nobleman, leaning against one of the enormous columns that surround the + choir, hastened to take possession of the seat abandoned by the worthy + Tourainean. Having done so, he quickly hid his face among the plumes of + his tall gray cap, kneeling upon the chair with an air of contrition that + even an inquisitor would have trusted. + </p> + <p> + Observing the new-comer attentively, his immediate neighbors seemed to + recognize him; after which they returned to their prayers with a certain + gesture by which they all expressed the same thought,—a caustic, + jeering thought, a silent slander. Two old women shook their heads, and + gave each other a glance that seemed to dive into futurity. + </p> + <p> + The chair into which the young man had slipped was close to a chapel + placed between two columns and closed by an iron railing. It was customary + for the chapter to lease at a handsome price to seignorial families, and + even to rich burghers, the right to be present at the services, themselves + and their servants exclusively, in the various lateral chapels of the long + side-aisles of the cathedral. This simony is in practice to the present + day. A woman had her chapel as she now has her opera-box. The families who + hired these privileged places were required to decorate the altar of the + chapel thus conceded to them, and each made it their pride to adorn their + own sumptuously,—a vanity which the Church did not rebuke. In this + particular chapel a lady was kneeling close to the railing on a handsome + rug of red velvet with gold tassels, precisely opposite to the seat + vacated of the burgher. A silver-gilt lamp, hanging from the vaulted + ceiling of the chapel before an altar magnificently decorated, cast its + pale light upon a prayer-book held by the lady. The book trembled + violently in her hand when the young man approached her. + </p> + <p> + “A-men!” + </p> + <p> + To that response, sung in a sweet low voice which was painfully agitated, + though happily lost in the general clamor, she added rapidly in a whisper:— + </p> + <p> + “You will ruin me.” + </p> + <p> + The words were said in a tone of innocence which a man of any delicacy + ought to have obeyed; they went to the heart and pierced it. But the + stranger, carried away, no doubt, by one of those paroxysms of passion + which stifle conscience, remained in his chair and raised his head + slightly that he might look into the chapel. + </p> + <p> + “He sleeps!” he replied, in so low a voice that the words could be heard + by the young woman only, as sound is heard in its echo. + </p> + <p> + The lady turned pale; her furtive glance left for a moment the vellum page + of the prayer-book and turned to the old man whom the young man had + designated. What terrible complicity was in that glance? When the young + woman had cautiously examined the old seigneur, she drew a long breath and + raised her forehead, adorned with a precious jewel, toward a picture of + the Virgin; that simple movement, that attitude, the moistened glance, + revealed her life with imprudent naivete; had she been wicked, she would + certainly have dissimulated. The personage who thus alarmed the lovers was + a little old man, hunchbacked, nearly bald, savage in expression, and + wearing a long and discolored white beard cut in a fan-tail. The cross of + Saint-Michel glittered on his breast; his coarse, strong hands, covered + with gray hairs, which had been clasped, had now dropped slightly apart in + the slumber to which he had imprudently yielded. The right hand seemed + about to fall upon his dagger, the hilt of which was in the form of an + iron shell. By the manner in which he had placed the weapon, this hilt was + directly under his hand; if, unfortunately, the hand touched the iron, he + would wake, no doubt, instantly, and glance at his wife. His sardonic + lips, his pointed chin aggressively pushed forward, presented the + characteristic signs of a malignant spirit, a sagacity coldly cruel, that + would surely enable him to divine all because he suspected everything. His + yellow forehead was wrinkled like those of men whose habit it is to + believe nothing, to weigh all things, and who, like misers chinking their + gold, search out the meaning and the value of human actions. His bodily + frame, though deformed, was bony and solid, and seemed both vigorous and + excitable; in short, you might have thought him a stunted ogre. + Consequently, an inevitable danger awaited the young lady whenever this + terrible seigneur woke. That jealous husband would surely not fail to see + the difference between a worthy old burgher who gave him no umbrage, and + the new-comer, young, slender, and elegant. + </p> + <p> + “Libera nos a malo,” she said, endeavoring to make the young man + comprehend her fears. + </p> + <p> + The latter raised his head and looked at her. Tears were in his eyes; + tears of love and of despair. At sight of them the lady trembled and + betrayed herself. Both had, no doubt, long resisted and could resist no + longer a love increasing day by day through invincible obstacles, nurtured + by terror, strengthened by youth. The lady was moderately handsome; but + her pallid skin told of secret sufferings that made her interesting. She + had, moreover, an elegant figure, and the finest hair in the world. + Guarded by a tiger, she risked her life in whispering a word, accepting a + look, and permitting a mere pressure of the hand. Love may never have been + more deeply felt than in those hearts, never more delightfully enjoyed, + but certainly no passion was ever more perilous. It was easy to divine + that to these two beings air, sound, foot-falls, etc., things indifferent + to other men, presented hidden qualities, peculiar properties which they + distinguished. Perhaps their love made them find faithful interpreters in + the icy hands of the old priest to whom they confessed their sins, and + from whom they received the Host at the holy table. Love profound! love + gashed into the soul like a scar upon the body which we carry through + life! When these two young people looked at each other, the woman seemed + to say to her lover, “Let us love each other and die!” To which the young + knight answered, “Let us love each other and not die.” In reply, she + showed him a sign her old duenna and two pages. The duenna slept; the + pages were young and seemingly careless of what might happen, either of + good or evil, to their masters. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be frightened as you leave the church; let yourself be managed.” + </p> + <p> + The young nobleman had scarcely said these words in a low voice, when the + hand of the old seigneur dropped upon the hilt of his dagger. Feeling the + cold iron he woke, and his yellow eyes fixed themselves instantly on his + wife. By a privilege seldom granted even to men of genius, he awoke with + his mind as clear, his ideas as lucid as though he had not slept at all. + The man had the mania of jealousy. The lover, with one eye on his + mistress, had watched the husband with the other, and he now rose quickly, + effacing himself behind a column at the moment when the hand of the old + man fell; after which he disappeared, swiftly as a bird. The lady lowered + her eyes to her book and tried to seem calm; but she could not prevent her + face from blushing and her heart from beating with unnatural violence. The + old lord saw the unusual crimson on the cheeks, forehead, even the eyelids + of his wife. He looked about him cautiously, but seeing no one to + distrust, he said to his wife:— + </p> + <p> + “What are you thinking of, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “The smell of the incense turns me sick,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “It is particularly bad to-day?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + In spite of this sarcastic query, the wily old man pretended to believe in + this excuse; but he suspected some treachery and he resolved to watch his + treasure more carefully than before. + </p> + <p> + The benediction was given. Without waiting for the end of the “Soecula + soeculorum,” the crowd rushed like a torrent to the doors of the church. + Following his usual custom, the old seigneur waited till the general hurry + was over; after which he left his chapel, placing the duenna and the + youngest page, carrying a lantern, before him; then he gave his arm to his + wife and told the other page to follow them. + </p> + <p> + As he made his way to the lateral door which opened on the west side of + the cloister, through which it was his custom to pass, a stream of persons + detached itself from the flood which obstructed the great portals, and + poured through the side aisle around the old lord and his party. The mass + was too compact to allow him to retrace his steps, and he and his wife + were therefore pushed onward to the door by the pressure of the multitude + behind them. The husband tried to pass out first, dragging the lady by the + arm, but at that instant he was pulled vigorously into the street, and his + wife was torn from him by a stranger. The terrible hunchback saw at once + that he had fallen into a trap that was cleverly prepared. Repenting + himself for having slept, he collected his whole strength, seized his wife + once more by the sleeve of her gown, and strove with his other hand to + cling to the gate of the church; but the ardor of love carried the day + against jealous fury. The young man took his mistress round the waist, and + carried her off so rapidly, with the strength of despair, that the + brocaded stuff of silk and gold tore noisily apart, and the sleeve alone + remained in the hand of the old man. A roar like that of a lion rose + louder than the shouts of the multitude, and a terrible voice howled out + the words:— + </p> + <p> + “To me, Poitiers! Servants of the Comte de Saint-Vallier, here! Help! + help!” + </p> + <p> + And the Comte Aymar de Poitiers, sire de Saint-Vallier, attempted to draw + his sword and clear a space around him. But he found himself surrounded + and pressed upon by forty or fifty gentlemen whom it would be dangerous to + wound. Several among them, especially those of the highest rank, answered + him with jests as they dragged him along the cloisters. + </p> + <p> + With the rapidity of lightning the abductor carried the countess into an + open chapel and seated her behind the confessional on a wooden bench. By + the light of the tapers burning before the saint to whom the chapel was + dedicated, they looked at each other for a moment in silence, clasping + hands, and amazed at their own audacity. The countess had not the cruel + courage to reproach the young man for the boldness to which they owed this + perilous and only instant of happiness. + </p> + <p> + “Will you fly with me into the adjoining States?” said the young man, + eagerly. “Two English horses are awaiting us close by, able to do thirty + leagues at a stretch.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she cried, softly, “in what corner of the world could you hide a + daughter of King Louis XI.?” + </p> + <p> + “True,” replied the young man, silenced by a difficulty he had not + foreseen. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you tear me from my husband?” she asked in a sort of terror. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said her lover, “I did not reckon on the trouble I should feel in + being near you, in hearing you speak to me. I have made plans,—two + or three plans,—and now that I see you all seems accomplished.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am lost!” said the countess. + </p> + <p> + “We are saved!” the young man cried in the blind enthusiasm of his love. + “Listen to me carefully!” + </p> + <p> + “This will cost me my life!” she said, letting the tears that rolled in + her eyes flow down her cheeks. “The count will kill me,—to-night, + perhaps! But go to the king; tell him the tortures that his daughter has + endured these five years. He loved me well when I was little; he called me + ‘Marie-full-of-grace,’ because I was ugly. Ah! if he knew the man to whom + he gave me, his anger would be terrible. I have not dared complain, out of + pity for the count. Besides, how could I reach the king? My confessor + himself is a spy of Saint-Vallier. That is why I have consented to this + guilty meeting, to obtain a defender,—some one to tell the truth to + the king. Can I rely on—Oh!” she cried, turning pale and + interrupting herself, “here comes the page!” + </p> + <p> + The poor countess put her hands before her face as if to veil it. + </p> + <p> + “Fear nothing,” said the young seigneur, “he is won! You can safely trust + him; he belongs to me. When the count contrives to return for you he will + warn us of his coming. In the confessional,” he added, in a low voice, “is + a priest, a friend of mine, who will tell him that he drew you for safety + out of the crowd, and placed you under his own protection in this chapel. + Therefore, everything is arranged to deceive him.” + </p> + <p> + At these words the tears of the poor woman stopped, but an expression of + sadness settled down on her face. + </p> + <p> + “No one can deceive him,” she said. “To-night he will know all. Save me + from his blows! Go to Plessis, see the king, tell him—” she + hesitated; then, some dreadful recollection giving her courage to confess + the secrets of her marriage, she added: “Yes, tell him that to master me + the count bleeds me in both arms—to exhaust me. Tell him that my + husband drags me about by the hair of my head. Say that I am a prisoner; + that—” + </p> + <p> + Her heart swelled, sobs choked her throat, tears fell from her eyes. In + her agitation she allowed the young man, who was muttering broken words, + to kiss her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Poor darling! no one can speak to the king. Though my uncle is + grand-master of his archers, I could not gain admission to Plessis. My + dear lady! my beautiful sovereign! oh, how she has suffered! Marie, let + yourself say but two words, or we are lost!” + </p> + <p> + “What will become of us?” she murmured. Then, seeing on the dark wall a + picture of the Virgin, on which the light from the lamp was falling, she + cried out:— + </p> + <p> + “Holy Mother of God, give us counsel!” + </p> + <p> + “To-night,” said the young man, “I shall be with you in your room.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” she asked naively. + </p> + <p> + They were in such great peril that their tenderest words were devoid of + love. + </p> + <p> + “This evening,” he replied, “I shall offer myself as apprentice to Maitre + Cornelius, the king’s silversmith. I have obtained a letter of + recommendation to him which will make him receive me. His house is next to + yours. Once under the roof of that old thief, I can soon find my way to + your apartment by the help of a silken ladder.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she said, petrified with horror, “if you love me don’t go to Maitre + Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he cried, pressing her to his heart with all the force of his youth, + “you do indeed love me!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said; “are you not my hope? You are a gentleman, and I confide + to you my honor. Besides,” she added, looking at him with dignity, “I am + so unhappy that you would never betray my trust. But what is the good of + all this? Go, let me die, sooner than that you should enter that house of + Maitre Cornelius. Do you not know that all his apprentices—” + </p> + <p> + “Have been hanged,” said the young man, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t go; you will be made the victim of some sorcery.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot pay too dearly for the joy of serving you,” he said, with a look + that made her drop her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “But my husband?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Here is something to put him to sleep,” replied her lover, drawing from + his belt a little vial. + </p> + <p> + “Not for always?” said the countess, trembling. + </p> + <p> + For all answer the young seigneur made a gesture of horror. + </p> + <p> + “I would long ago have defied him to mortal combat if he were not so old,” + he said. “God preserve me from ridding you of him in any other way.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” said the countess, blushing. “I am cruelly punished for my + sins. In a moment of despair I thought of killing him, and I feared you + might have the same desire. My sorrow is great that I have never yet been + able to confess that wicked thought; but I fear it would be repeated to + him and he would avenge it. I have shamed you,” she continued, distressed + by his silence, “I deserve your blame.” + </p> + <p> + And she broke the vial by flinging it on the floor violently. + </p> + <p> + “Do not come,” she said, “my husband sleeps lightly; my duty is to wait + for the help of Heaven—that will I do!” + </p> + <p> + She tried to leave the chapel. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried the young man, “order me to do so and I will kill him. You + will see me to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “I was wise to destroy that drug,” she said in a voice that was faint with + the pleasure of finding herself so loved. “The fear of awakening my + husband will save us from ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “I pledge you my life,” said the young man, pressing her hand. + </p> + <p> + “If the king is willing, the pope can annul my marriage. We will then be + united,” she said, giving him a look that was full of delightful hopes. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur comes!” cried the page, rushing in. + </p> + <p> + Instantly the young nobleman, surprised at the short time he had gained + with his mistress and wondering at the celerity of the count, snatched a + kiss, which was not refused. + </p> + <p> + “To-night!” he said, slipping hastily from the chapel. + </p> + <p> + Thanks to the darkness, he reached the great portal safely, gliding from + column to column in the long shadows which they cast athwart the nave. An + old canon suddenly issued from the confessional, came to the side of the + countess and closed the iron railing before which the page was marching + gravely up and down with the air of a watchman. + </p> + <p> + A strong light now announced the coming of the count. Accompanied by + several friends and by servants bearing torches, he hurried forward, a + naked sword in hand. His gloomy eyes seemed to pierce the shadows and to + rake even the darkest corners of the cathedral. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur, madame is there,” said the page, going forward to meet him. + </p> + <p> + The Comte de Saint-Vallier found his wife kneeling on the steps of the + alter, the old priest standing beside her and reading his breviary. At + that sight the count shook the iron railing violently as if to give vent + to his rage. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want here, with a drawn sword in a church?” asked the priest. + </p> + <p> + “Father, that is my husband,” said the countess. + </p> + <p> + The priest took a key from his sleeve, and unlocked the railed door of the + chapel. The count, almost in spite of himself, cast a look into the + confessional, then he entered the chapel, and seemed to be listening + attentively to the sounds in the cathedral. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said his wife, “you owe many thanks to this venerable canon, + who gave me a refuge here.” + </p> + <p> + The count turned pale with anger; he dared not look at his friends, who + had come there more to laugh at him than to help him. Then he answered + curtly: + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, father, I shall find some way to repay you.” + </p> + <p> + He took his wife by the arm and, without allowing her to finish her + curtsey to the canon, he signed to his servants and left the church + without a word to the others who had accompanied him. His silence had + something savage and sullen about it. Impatient to reach his home and + preoccupied in searching for means to discover the truth, he took his way + through the tortuous streets which at that time separated the cathedral + from the Chancellerie, a fine building recently erected by the Chancellor + Juvenal des Ursins, on the site of an old fortification given by Charles + VII. to that faithful servant as a reward for his glorious labors. + </p> + <p> + The count reached at last the rue du Murier, in which his dwelling, called + the hotel de Poitiers, was situated. When his escort of servants had + entered the courtyard and the heavy gates were closed, a deep silence fell + on the narrow street, where other great seigneurs had their houses, for + this new quarter of the town was near to Plessis, the usual residence of + the king, to whom the courtiers, if sent for, could go in a moment. The + last house in this street was also the last in the town. It belonged to + Maitre Cornelius Hoogworst, an old Brabantian merchant, to whom King Louis + XI. gave his utmost confidence in those financial transactions which his + crafty policy induced him to undertake outside of his own kingdom. + </p> + <p> + Observing the outline of the houses occupied respectively by Maitre + Cornelius and by the Comte de Poitiers, it was easy to believe that the + same architect had built them both and destined them for the use of + tyrants. Each was sinister in aspect, resembling a small fortress, and + both could be well defended against an angry populace. Their corners were + upheld by towers like those which lovers of antiquities remark in towns + where the hammer of the iconoclast has not yet prevailed. The bays, which + had little depth, gave a great power of resistance to the iron shutters of + the windows and doors. The riots and the civil wars so frequent in those + tumultuous times were ample justification for these precautions. + </p> + <p> + As six o’clock was striking from the great tower of the Abbey + Saint-Martin, the lover of the hapless countess passed in front of the + hotel de Poitiers and paused for a moment to listen to the sounds made in + the lower hall by the servants of the count, who were supping. Casting a + glance at the window of the room where he supposed his love to be, he + continued his way to the adjoining house. All along his way, the young man + had heard the joyous uproar of many feasts given throughout the town in + honor of the day. The ill-joined shutters sent out streaks of light, the + chimneys smoked, and the comforting odor of roasted meats pervaded the + town. After the conclusion of the church services, the inhabitants were + regaling themselves, with murmurs of satisfaction which fancy can picture + better than words can paint. But at this particular spot a deep silence + reigned, because in these two houses lived two passions which never + rejoiced. Beyond them stretched the silent country. Beneath the shadow of + the steeples of Saint-Martin, these two mute dwellings, separated from the + others in the same street and standing at the crooked end of it, seemed + afflicted with leprosy. The building opposite to them, the home of the + criminals of the State, was also under a ban. A young man would be readily + impressed by this sudden contrast. About to fling himself into an + enterprise that was horribly hazardous, it is no wonder that the daring + young seigneur stopped short before the house of the silversmith, and + called to mind the many tales furnished by the life of Maitre Cornelius,—tales + which caused such singular horror to the countess. At this period a man of + war, and even a lover, trembled at the mere word “magic.” Few indeed were + the minds and the imaginations which disbelieved in occult facts and tales + of the marvellous. The lover of the Comtesse de Saint-Vallier, one of the + daughters whom Louis XI. had in Dauphine by Madame de Sassenage, however + bold he might be in other respects, was likely to think twice before he + finally entered the house of a so-called sorcerer. + </p> + <p> + The history of Maitre Cornelius Hoogworst will fully explain the security + which the silversmith inspired in the Comte de Saint-Vallier, the terror + of the countess, and the hesitation that now took possession of the lover. + But, in order to make the readers of this nineteenth century understand + how such commonplace events could be turned into anything supernatural, + and to make them share the alarms of that olden time, it is necessary to + interrupt the course of this narrative and cast a rapid glance on the + preceding life and adventures of Maitre Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE TORCONNIER + </h2> + <p> + Cornelius Hoogworst, one of the richest merchants in Ghent, having drawn + upon himself the enmity of Charles, Duke of Burgundy, found refuge and + protection at the court of Louis XI. The king was conscious of the + advantages he could gain from a man connected with all the principal + commercial houses of Flanders, Venice, and the Levant; he naturalized, + ennobled, and flattered Maitre Cornelius; all of which was rarely done by + Louis XI. The monarch pleased the Fleming as much as the Fleming pleased + the monarch. Wily, distrustful, and miserly; equally politic, equally + learned; superior, both of them, to their epoch; understanding each other + marvellously; they discarded and resumed with equal facility, the one his + conscience, the other his religion; they loved the same Virgin, one by + conviction, the other by policy; in short, if we may believe the jealous + tales of Olivier de Daim and Tristan, the king went to the house of the + Fleming for those diversions with which King Louis XI. diverted himself. + History has taken care to transmit to our knowledge the licentious tastes + of a monarch who was not averse to debauchery. The old Fleming found, no + doubt, both pleasure and profit in lending himself to the capricious + pleasures of his royal client. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius had now lived nine years in the city of Tours. During those + years extraordinary events had happened in his house, which had made him + the object of general execration. On his first arrival, he had spent + considerable sums in order to put the treasures he brought with him in + safety. The strange inventions made for him secretly by the locksmiths of + the town, the curious precautions taken in bringing those locksmiths to + his house in a way to compel their silence, were long the subject of + countless tales which enlivened the evening gatherings of the city. These + singular artifices on the part of the old man made every one suppose him + the possessor of Oriental riches. Consequently the <i>narrators</i> of + that region—the home of the tale in France—built rooms full of + gold and precious tones in the Fleming’s house, not omitting to attribute + all this fabulous wealth to compacts with Magic. + </p> + <p> + Maitre Cornelius had brought with him from Ghent two Flemish valets, an + old woman, and a young apprentice; the latter, a youth with a gentle, + pleasing face, served him as secretary, cashier, factotum, and courier. + During the first year of his settlement in Tours, a robbery of + considerable amount took place in his house, and judicial inquiry showed + that the crime must have been committed by one of its inmates. The old + miser had his two valets and the secretary put in prison. The young man + was feeble and he died under the sufferings of the “question” protesting + his innocence. The valets confessed the crime to escape torture; but when + the judge required them to say where the stolen property could be found, + they kept silence, were again put to the torture, judged, condemned, and + hanged. On their way to the scaffold they declared themselves innocent, + according to the custom of all persons about to be executed. + </p> + <p> + The city of Tours talked much of this singular affair; but the criminals + were Flemish, and the interest felt in their unhappy fate soon evaporated. + In those days wars and seditions furnished endless excitements, and the + drama of each day eclipsed that of the night before. More grieved by the + loss he had met with than by the death of his three servants, Maitre + Cornelius lived alone in his house with the old Flemish woman, his sister. + He obtained permission from the king to use state couriers for his private + affairs, sold his mules to a muleteer of the neighborhood, and lived from + that moment in the deepest solitude, seeing no one but the king, doing his + business by means of Jews, who, shrewd calculators, served him well in + order to gain his all-powerful protection. + </p> + <p> + Some time after this affair, the king himself procured for his old + “torconnier” a young orphan in whom he took an interest. Louis XI. called + Maitre Cornelius familiarly by that obsolete term, which, under the reign + of Saint-Louis, meant a usurer, a collector of imposts, a man who pressed + others by violent means. The epithet, “tortionnaire,” which remains to + this day in our legal phraseology, explains the old word torconnier, which + we often find spelt “tortionneur.” The poor young orphan devoted himself + carefully to the affairs of the old Fleming, pleased him much, and was + soon high in his good graces. During a winter’s night, certain diamonds + deposited with Maitre Cornelius by the King of England as security for a + sum of a hundred thousand crowns were stolen, and suspicion, of course, + fell on the orphan. Louis XI. was all the more severe because he had + answered for the youth’s fidelity. After a very brief and summary + examination by the grand provost, the unfortunate secretary was hanged. + After that no one dared for a long time to learn the arts of banking and + exchange from Maitre Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + In course of time, however, two young men of the town, Touraineans,—men + of honor, and eager to make their fortunes,—took service with the + silversmith. Robberies coincided with the admission of the two young men + into the house. The circumstances of these crimes, the manner in which + they were perpetrated, showed plainly that the robbers had secret + communication with its inmates. Become by this time more than ever + suspicious and vindictive, the old Fleming laid the matter before Louis + XI., who placed it in the hands of his grand provost. A trial was promptly + had and promptly ended. The inhabitants of Tours blamed Tristan l’Hermite + secretly for unseemly haste. Guilty or not guilty, the young Touraineans + were looked upon as victims, and Cornelius as an executioner. The two + families thus thrown into mourning were much respected; their complaints + obtained a hearing, and little by little it came to be believed that all + the victims whom the king’s silversmith had sent to the scaffold were + innocent. Some persons declared that the cruel miser imitated the king, + and sought to put terror and gibbets between himself and his fellow-men; + others said that he had never been robbed at all,—that these + melancholy executions were the result of cool calculations, and that their + real object was to relieve him of all fear for his treasure. + </p> + <p> + The first effect of these rumors was to isolate Maitre Cornelius. The + Touraineans treated him like a leper, called him the “tortionnaire,” and + named his house Malemaison. If the Fleming had found strangers to the town + bold enough to enter it, the inhabitants would have warned them against + doing so. The most favorable opinion of Maitre Cornelius was that of + persons who thought him merely baneful. Some he inspired with instinctive + terror; others he impressed with the deep respect that most men feel for + limitless power and money, while to a few he certainly possessed the + attraction of mystery. His way of life, his countenance, and the favor of + the king, justified all the tales of which he had now become the subject. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius travelled much in foreign lands after the death of his + persecutor, the Duke of Burgundy; and during his absence the king caused + his premises to be guarded by a detachment of his own Scottish guard. Such + royal solicitude made the courtiers believe that the old miser had + bequeathed his property to Louis XI. When at home, the torconnier went out + but little; but the lords of the court paid him frequent visits. He lent + them money rather liberally, though capricious in his manner of doing so. + On certain days he refused to give them a penny; the next day he would + offer them large sums,—always at high interest and on good security. + A good Catholic, he went regularly to the services, always attending the + earliest mass at Saint-Martin; and as he had purchased there, as + elsewhere, a chapel in perpetuity, he was separated even in church from + other Christians. A popular proverb of that day, long remembered in Tours, + was the saying: “You passed in front of the Fleming; ill-luck will happen + to you.” Passing in front of the Fleming explained all sudden pains and + evils, involuntary sadness, ill-turns of fortune among the Touraineans. + Even at court most persons attributed to Cornelius that fatal influence + which Italian, Spanish, and Asiatic superstition has called the “evil + eye.” Without the terrible power of Louis XI., which was stretched like a + mantle over that house, the populace, on the slightest opportunity, would + have demolished La Malemaison, that “evil house” in the rue du Murier. And + yet Cornelius had been the first to plant mulberries in Tours, and the + Touraineans at that time regarded him as their good genius. Who shall + reckon on popular favor! + </p> + <p> + A few seigneurs having met Maitre Cornelius on his journeys out of France + were surprised at his friendliness and good-humor. At Tours he was gloomy + and absorbed, yet always he returned there. Some inexplicable power + brought him back to his dismal house in the rue du Murier. Like a snail, + whose life is so firmly attached to its shell, he admitted to the king + that he was never at ease except under the bolts and behind the + vermiculated stones of his little bastille; yet he knew very well that + whenever Louis XI. died, the place would be the most dangerous spot on + earth for him. + </p> + <p> + “The devil is amusing himself at the expense of our crony, the + torconnier,” said Louis XI. to his barber, a few days before the festival + of All-Saints. “He says he has been robbed again, but he can’t hang + anybody this time unless he hangs himself. The old vagabond came and asked + me if, by chance, I had carried off a string of rubies he wanted to sell + me. ‘Pasques-Dieu! I don’t steal what I can take,’ I said to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he frightened?” asked the barber. + </p> + <p> + “Misers are afraid of only one thing,” replied the king. “My crony the + torconnier knows very well that I shall not plunder him unless for good + reason; otherwise I should be unjust, and I have never done anything but + what is just and necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet that old brigand overcharges you,” said the barber. + </p> + <p> + “You wish he did, don’t you?” replied the king, with the malicious look at + his barber. + </p> + <p> + “Ventre-Mahom, sire, the inheritance would be a fine one between you and + the devil!” + </p> + <p> + “There, there!” said the king, “don’t put bad ideas into my head. My crony + is a more faithful man than those whose fortunes I have made—perhaps + because he owes me nothing.” + </p> + <p> + For the last two years Maitre Cornelius had lived entirely alone with his + aged sister, who was thought a witch. A tailor in the neighborhood + declared that he had often seen her at night, on the roof of the house, + waiting for the hour of the witches’ sabbath. This fact seemed the more + extraordinary because it was known to be the miser’s custom to lock up his + sister at night in a bedroom with iron-barred windows. + </p> + <p> + As he grew older, Cornelius, constantly robbed, and always fearful of + being duped by men, came to hate mankind, with the one exception of the + king, whom he greatly respected. He fell into extreme misanthropy, but, + like most misers, his passion for gold, the assimilation, as it were, of + that metal with his own substance, became closer and closer, and age + intensified it. His sister herself excited his suspicions, though she was + perhaps more miserly, more rapacious than her brother whom she actually + surpassed in penurious inventions. Their daily existence had something + mysterious and problematical about it. The old woman rarely took bread + from the baker; she appeared so seldom in the market, that the least + credulous of the townspeople ended by attributing to these strange beings + the knowledge of some secret for the maintenance of life. Those who + dabbled in alchemy declared that Maitre Cornelius had the power of making + gold. Men of science averred that he had found the Universal Panacea. + According to many of the country-people to whom the townsfolk talked of + him, Cornelius was a chimerical being, and many of them came into the town + to look at his house out of mere curiosity. + </p> + <p> + The young seigneur whom we left in front of that house looked about him, + first at the hotel de Poitiers, the home of his mistress, and then at the + evil house. The moonbeams were creeping round their angles, and tinting + with a mixture of light and shade the hollows and reliefs of the carvings. + The caprices of this white light gave a sinister expression to both + edifices; it seemed as if Nature herself encouraged the superstitions that + hung about the miser’s dwelling. The young man called to mind the many + traditions which made Cornelius a personage both curious and formidable. + Though quite decided through the violence of his love to enter that house, + and stay there long enough to accomplish his design, he hesitated to take + the final step, all the while aware that he should certainly take it. But + where is the man who, in a crisis of his life, does not willingly listen + to presentiments as he hangs above the precipice? A lover worthy of being + loved, the young man feared to die before he had been received for love’s + sake by the countess. + </p> + <p> + This mental deliberation was so painfully interesting that he did not feel + the cold wind as it whistled round the corner of the building, and chilled + his legs. On entering that house, he must lay aside his name, as already + he had laid aside the handsome garments of nobility. In case of mishap, he + could not claim the privileges of his rank nor the protection of his + friends without bringing hopeless ruin on the Comtesse de Saint-Vallier. + If her husband suspected the nocturnal visit of a lover, he was capable of + roasting her alive in an iron cage, or of killing her by degrees in the + dungeons of a fortified castle. Looking down at the shabby clothing in + which he had disguised himself, the young nobleman felt ashamed. His black + leather belt, his stout shoes, his ribbed socks, his linsey-woolsey + breeches, and his gray woollen doublet made him look like the clerk of + some poverty-stricken justice. To a noble of the fifteenth century it was + like death itself to play the part of a beggarly burgher, and renounce the + privileges of his rank. But—to climb the roof of the house where his + mistress wept; to descend the chimney, or creep along from gutter to + gutter to the window of her room; to risk his life to kneel beside her on + a silken cushion before a glowing fire, during the sleep of a dangerous + husband, whose snores would double their joy; to defy both heaven and + earth in snatching the boldest of all kisses; to say no word that would + not lead to death or at least to sanguinary combat if overheard,—all + these voluptuous images and romantic dangers decided the young man. + However slight might be the guerdon of his enterprise, could he only kiss + once more the hand of his lady, he still resolved to venture all, impelled + by the chivalrous and passionate spirit of those days. He never supposed + for a moment that the countess would refuse him the soft happiness of love + in the midst of such mortal danger. The adventure was too perilous, too + impossible not to be attempted and carried out. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly all the bells in the town rang out the curfew,—a custom + fallen elsewhere into desuetude, but still observed in the provinces, + where venerable habits are abolished slowly. Though the lights were not + put out, the watchmen of each quarter stretched the chains across the + streets. Many doors were locked; the steps of a few belated burghers, + attended by their servants, armed to the teeth and bearing lanterns, + echoed in the distance. Soon the town, garroted as it were, seemed to be + asleep, and safe from robbers and evil-doers, except through the roofs. In + those days the roofs of houses were much frequented after dark. The + streets were so narrow in the provincial towns, and even in Paris, that + robbers could jump from the roofs on one side to those on the other. This + perilous occupation was long the amusement of King Charles IX. in his + youth, if we may believe the memoirs of his day. + </p> + <p> + Fearing to present himself too late to the old silversmith, the young + nobleman now went up to the door of the Malemaison intending to knock, + when, on looking at it, his attention was excited by a sort of vision, + which the writers of those days would have called “cornue,”—perhaps + with reference to horns and hoofs. He rubbed his eyes to clear his sight, + and a thousand diverse sentiments passed through his mind at the spectacle + before him. On each side of the door was a face framed in a species of + loophole. At first he took these two faces for grotesque masks carved in + stone, so angular, distorted, projecting, motionless, discolored were + they; but the cold air and the moonlight presently enabled him to + distinguish the faint white mist which living breath sent from two + purplish noses; then he saw in each hollow face, beneath the shadow of the + eyebrows, two eyes of porcelain blue casting clear fire, like those of a + wolf crouching in the brushwood as it hears the baying of the hounds. The + uneasy gleam of those eyes was turned on him so fixedly that, after + receiving it for fully a minute, during which he examined the singular + sight, he felt like a bird at which a setter points; a feverish tumult + rose in his soul, but he quickly repressed it. The two faces, strained and + suspicious, were doubtless those of Cornelius and his sister. + </p> + <p> + The young man feigned to be looking about him to see where he was, and + whether this were the house named on a card which he drew from his pocket + and pretended to read in the moonlight; then he walked straight to the + door and struck three blows upon it, which echoed within the house as if + it were the entrance to a cave. A faint light crept beneath the threshold, + and an eye appeared at a small and very strong iron grating. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” + </p> + <p> + “A friend, sent by Oosterlinck, of Brussels.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “To enter.” + </p> + <p> + “Your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Philippe Goulenoire.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you brought credentials?” + </p> + <p> + “Here they are.” + </p> + <p> + “Pass them through the box.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “To your left.” + </p> + <p> + Philippe Goulenoire put the letter through the slit of an iron box above + which was a loophole. + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” thought he, “plainly the king comes here, as they say he + does; he couldn’t take more precautions at Plessis.” + </p> + <p> + He waited for more than a quarter of an hour in the street. After that + lapse of time, he heard Cornelius saying to his sister, “Close the traps + of the door.” + </p> + <p> + A clinking of chains resounded from within. Philippe heard the bolts run, + the locks creak, and presently a small low door, iron-bound, opened to the + slightest distance through which a man could pass. At the risk of tearing + off his clothing, Philippe squeezed himself rather than walked into La + Malemaison. A toothless old woman with a hatchet face, the eyebrows + projecting like the handles of a cauldron, the nose and chin so near + together that a nut could scarcely pass between them,—a pallid, + haggard creature, her hollow temples composed apparently of only bones and + nerves,—guided the “soi-disant” foreigner silently into a lower + room, while Cornelius followed prudently behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Sit there,” she said to Philippe, showing him a three-legged stool placed + at the corner of a carved stone fireplace, where there was no fire. + </p> + <p> + On the other side of the chimney-piece was a walnut table with twisted + legs, on which was an egg in a plate and ten or a dozen little bread-sops, + hard and dry and cut with studied parsimony. Two stools placed beside the + table, on one of which the old woman sat down, showed that the miserly + pair were eating their suppers. Cornelius went to the door and pushed two + iron shutters into their place, closing, no doubt, the loopholes through + which they had been gazing into the street; then he returned to his seat. + Philippe Goulenoire (so called) next beheld the brother and sister dipping + their sops into the egg in turn, and with the utmost gravity and the same + precision with which soldiers dip their spoons in regular rotation into + the mess-pot. This performance was done in silence. But as he ate, + Cornelius examined the false apprentice with as much care and scrutiny as + if he were weighing an old coin. + </p> + <p> + Philippe, feeling that an icy mantle had descended on his shoulders, was + tempted to look about him; but, with the circumspection dictated by all + amorous enterprises, he was careful not to glance, even furtively, at the + walls; for he fully understood that if Cornelius detected him, he would + not allow so inquisitive a person to remain in his house. He contented + himself, therefore, by looking first at the egg and then at the old woman, + occasionally contemplating his future master. + </p> + <p> + Louis XI.‘s silversmith resembled that monarch. He had even acquired the + same gestures, as often happens where persons dwell together in a sort of + intimacy. The thick eyebrows of the Fleming almost covered his eyes; but + by raising them a little he could flash out a lucid, penetrating, powerful + glance, the glance of men habituated to silence, and to whom the + phenomenon of the concentration of inward forces has become familiar. His + thin lips, vertically wrinkled, gave him an air of indescribable + craftiness. The lower part of his face bore a vague resemblance to the + muzzle of a fox, but his lofty, projecting forehead, with many lines, + showed great and splendid qualities and a nobility of soul, the springs of + which had been lowered by experience until the cruel teachings of life had + driven it back into the farthest recesses of this most singular human + being. He was certainly not an ordinary miser; and his passion covered, no + doubt, extreme enjoyments and secret conceptions. + </p> + <p> + “What is the present rate of Venetian sequins?” he said abruptly to his + future apprentice. + </p> + <p> + “Three-quarters at Brussels; one in Ghent.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the freight on the Scheldt?” + </p> + <p> + “Three sous parisis.” + </p> + <p> + “Any news at Ghent?” + </p> + <p> + “The brother of Lieven d’Herde is ruined.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + After giving vent to that exclamation, the old man covered his knee with + the skirt of his dalmatian, a species of robe made of black velvet, open + in front, with large sleeves and no collar, the sumptuous material being + defaced and shiny. These remains of a magnificent costume, formerly worn + by him as president of the tribunal of the Parchons, functions which had + won him the enmity of the Duke of Burgundy, was now a mere rag. + </p> + <p> + Philippe was not cold; he perspired in his harness, dreading further + questions. Until then the brief information obtained that morning from a + Jew whose life he had formerly saved, had sufficed him, thanks to his good + memory and the perfect knowledge the Jew possessed of the manners and + habits of Maitre Cornelius. But the young man who, in the first flush of + his enterprise, had feared nothing was beginning to perceive the + difficulties it presented. The solemn gravity of the terrible Fleming + reacted upon him. He felt himself under lock and key, and remembered how + the grand provost Tristan and his rope were at the orders of Maitre + Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Have you supped?” asked the silversmith, in a tone which signified, “You + are not to sup.” + </p> + <p> + The old maid trembled in spite of her brother’s tone; she looked at the + new inmate as if to gauge the capacity of the stomach she might have to + fill, and said with a specious smile:— + </p> + <p> + “You have not stolen your name; your hair and moustache are as black as + the devil’s tail.” + </p> + <p> + “I have supped,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Well then,” replied the miser, “you can come back and see me to-morrow. I + have done without an apprentice for some years. Besides, I wish to sleep + upon the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey! by Saint-Bavon, monsieur, I am a Fleming; I don’t know a soul in + this place; the chains are up in the streets, and I shall be put in + prison. However,” he added, frightened at the eagerness he was showing in + his words, “if it is your good pleasure, of course I will go.” + </p> + <p> + The oath seemed to affect the old man singularly. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, by Saint-Bavon indeed, you shall sleep here.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” said his sister, alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Silence,” replied Cornelius. “In his letter Oosterlinck tells me he will + answer for this young man. You know,” he whispered in his sister’s ear, + “we have a hundred thousand francs belonging to Oosterlinck? That’s a + hostage, hey!” + </p> + <p> + “And suppose he steals those Bavarian jewels? Tiens, he looks more like a + thief than a Fleming.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” exclaimed the old man, listening attentively to some sound. + </p> + <p> + Both misers listened. A moment after the “Hush!” uttered by Cornelius, a + noise produced by the steps of several men echoed in the distance on the + other side of the moat of the town. + </p> + <p> + “It is the Plessis guard on their rounds,” said the sister. + </p> + <p> + “Give me the key of the apprentice’s room,” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + The old woman made a gesture as if to take the lamp. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to leave us alone, without light?” cried Cornelius, in a + meaning tone of voice. “At your age can’t you see in the dark? It isn’t + difficult to find a key.” + </p> + <p> + The sister understood the meaning hidden beneath these words and left the + room. Looking at this singular creature as she walked towards the door, + Philippe Goulenoire was able to hide from Cornelius the glance which he + hastily cast about the room. It was wainscoted in oak to the chair-strip, + and the walls above were hung with yellow leather stamped with black + arabesques; but what struck the young man most was a match-lock pistol + with its formidable trigger. This new and terrible weapon lay close to + Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “How do you expect to earn your living with me?” said the latter. + </p> + <p> + “I have but little money,” replied Philippe, “but I know good tricks in + business. If you will pay me a sou on every mark I earn for you, that will + satisfy me.” + </p> + <p> + “A sou! a sou!” echoed the miser; “why, that’s a good deal!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the old sibyl returned with the key. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said Cornelius to Philippe. + </p> + <p> + The pair went out beneath the portico and mounted a spiral stone + staircase, the round well of which rose through a high turret, beside the + hall in which they had been sitting. At the first floor up the young man + paused. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Cornelius. “The devil! this nook is the place where the + king takes his ease.” + </p> + <p> + The architect had constructed the room given to the apprentice under the + pointed roof of the tower in which the staircase wound. It was a little + room, all of stone, cold and without ornament of any kind. The tower stood + in the middle of the facade on the courtyard, which, like the courtyards + of all provincial houses, was narrow and dark. At the farther end, through + an iron railing, could be seen a wretched garden in which nothing grew but + the mulberries which Cornelius had introduced. The young nobleman took + note of all this through the loopholes on the spiral staircase, the moon + casting, fortunately, a brilliant light. A cot, a stool, a mismatched + pitcher and basin formed the entire furniture of the room. The light could + enter only through square openings, placed at intervals in the outside + wall of the tower, according, no doubt, to the exterior ornamentation. + </p> + <p> + “Here is your lodging,” said Cornelius; “it is plain and solid and + contains all that is needed for sleep. Good night! Do not leave this room + as <i>the others</i> did.” + </p> + <p> + After giving his apprentice a last look full of many meanings, Cornelius + double-locked the door, took away the key and descended the staircase, + leaving the young nobleman as much befooled as a bell-founder when on + opening his mould he finds nothing. Alone, without light, seated on a + stool, in a little garret from which so many of his predecessors had gone + to the scaffold, the young fellow felt like a wild beast caught in a trap. + He jumped upon the stool and raised himself to his full height in order to + reach one of the little openings through which a faint light shone. Thence + he saw the Loire, the beautiful slopes of Saint-Cyr, the gloomy marvels of + Plessis, where lights were gleaming in the deep recesses of a few windows. + Far in the distance lay the beautiful meadows of Touraine and the silvery + stream of her river. Every point of this lovely nature had, at that + moment, a mysterious grace; the windows, the waters, the roofs of the + houses shone like diamonds in the trembling light of the moon. The soul of + the young seigneur could not repress a sad and tender emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose it is my last farewell!” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + He stood there, feeling already the terrible emotions his adventure + offered him, and yielding to the fears of a prisoner who, nevertheless, + retains some glimmer of hope. His mistress illumined each difficulty. To + him she was no longer a woman, but a supernatural being seen through the + incense of his desires. A feeble cry, which he fancied came from the hotel + de Poitiers, restored him to himself and to a sense of his true situation. + Throwing himself on his pallet to reflect on his course, he heard a slight + movement which echoed faintly from the spiral staircase. He listened + attentively, and the whispered words, “He has gone to bed,” said by the + old woman, reached his ear. By an accident unknown probably to the + architect, the slightest noise on the staircase sounded in the room of the + apprentices, so that Philippe did not lose a single movement of the miser + and his sister who were watching him. He undressed, lay down, pretended to + sleep, and employed the time during which the pair remained on the + staircase, in seeking means to get from his prison to the hotel de + Poitiers. + </p> + <p> + About ten o’clock Cornelius and his sister, convinced that their new + inmate was sleeping, retired to their rooms. The young man studied + carefully the sounds they made in doing so, and thought he could recognize + the position of their apartments; they must, he believed, occupy the whole + second floor. Like all the houses of that period, this floor was next + below the roof, from which its windows projected, adorned with spandrel + tops that were richly sculptured. The roof itself was edged with a sort of + balustrade, concealing the gutters for the rain water which gargoyles in + the form of crocodile’s heads discharged into the street. The young + seigneur, after studying this topography as carefully as a cat, believed + he could make his way from the tower to the roof, and thence to Madame de + Vallier’s by the gutters and the help of a gargoyle. But he did not count + on the narrowness of the loopholes of the tower; it was impossible to pass + through them. He then resolved to get out upon the roof of the house + through the window of the staircase on the second floor. To accomplish + this daring project he must leave his room, and Cornelius had carried off + the key. + </p> + <p> + By way of precaution, the young man had brought with him, concealed under + his clothes, one of those poignards formerly used to give the “coup de + grace” in a duel when the vanquished adversary begged the victor to + despatch him. This horrible weapon had on one side a blade sharpened like + a razor, and on the other a blade that was toothed like a saw, but toothed + in the reverse direction from that by which it would enter the body. The + young man determined to use this latter blade to saw through the wood + around the lock. Happily for him the staple of the lock was put on to the + outside of the door by four stout screws. By the help of his dagger he + managed, not without great difficulty, to unscrew and remove it + altogether, carefully laying it aside and the four screws with it. By + midnight he was free, and he went down the stairs without his shoes to + reconnoitre the localities. + </p> + <p> + He was not a little astonished to find a door wide open which led down a + corridor to several chambers, at the end of which corridor was a window + opening on a depression caused by the junction of the roofs of the hotel + de Poitiers and that of the Malemaison which met there. Nothing could + express his joy, unless it be the vow which he instantly made to the + Blessed Virgin to found a mass in her honor in the celebrated parish + church of the Escrignoles at Tours. After examining the tall broad + chimneys of the hotel de Poitiers he returned upon his steps to fetch his + dagger, when to his horror, he beheld a vivid light on the staircase and + saw Maitre Cornelius himself in his dalmatian, carrying a lamp, his eyes + open to their fullest extent and fixed upon the corridor, at the entrance + of which he stood like a spectre. + </p> + <p> + “If I open the window and jump upon the roofs, he will hear me,” thought + the young man. + </p> + <p> + The terrible old miser advanced, like the hour of death to a criminal. In + this extremity Philippe, instigated by love, recovered his presence of + mind; he slipped into a doorway, pressing himself back into the angle of + it, and awaited the old man. When Cornelius, holding his lamp in advance + of him, came into line with the current of air which the young man could + send from his lungs, the lamp was blown out. Cornelius muttered vague + words and swore a Dutch oath; but he turned and retraced his steps. The + young man then rushed to his room, caught up his dagger and returned to + the blessed window, opened it softly and jumped upon the roof. + </p> + <p> + Once at liberty under the open sky, he felt weak, so happy was he. Perhaps + the extreme agitation of his danger of the boldness of the enterprise + caused his emotion; victory is often as perilous as battle. He leaned + against the balustrade, quivering with joy and saying to himself:— + </p> + <p> + “By which chimney can I get to her?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at them all. With the instinct given by love, he went to all and + felt them to discover in which there had been a fire. Having made up his + mind on that point, the daring young fellow stuck his dagger securely in a + joint between two stones, fastened a silken ladder to it, threw the ladder + down the chimney and risked himself upon it, trusting to his good blade, + and to the chance of not having mistaken his mistress’s room. He knew not + whether Saint-Vallier was asleep or awake, but one thing he was resolved + upon, he would hold the countess in his arms if it cost the life of two + men. + </p> + <p> + Presently his feet gently touched the warm embers; he bent more gently + still and saw the countess seated in an armchair; and she saw him. Pale + with joy and palpitating, the timid creature showed him, by the light of + the lamp, Saint-Vallier lying in a bed about ten feet from her. We may + well believe their burning silent kisses echoed only in their hearts. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. THE ROBBERY OF THE JEWELS OF THE DUKE OF BAVARIA + </h2> + <p> + The next day, about nine in the morning, as Louis XI. was leaving his + chapel after hearing mass, he found Maitre Cornelius on his path. + </p> + <p> + “Good luck to you, crony,” he said, shoving up his cap in his hasty way. + </p> + <p> + “Sire, I would willingly pay a thousand gold crowns if I could have a + moment’s talk with you; I have found the thief who stole the rubies and + all the jewels of the Duke of—” + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear about that,” said Louis XI., going out into the courtyard of + Plessis, followed by his silversmith, Coyctier his physician, Olivier de + Daim, and the captain of his Scottish guard. “Tell me about it. Another + man to hang for you! Hola, Tristan!” + </p> + <p> + The grand provost, who was walking up and down the courtyard, came with + slow steps, like a dog who exhibits his fidelity. The group paused under a + tree. The king sat down on a bench and the courtiers made a circle about + him. + </p> + <p> + “Sire, a man who pretended to be a Fleming has got the better of me—” + began Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “He must be crafty indeed, that fellow!” exclaimed Louis, wagging his + head. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” replied the silversmith, bitterly. “But methinks he’d have + snared you yourself. How could I distrust a beggar recommended to me by + Oosterlinck, one hundred thousand francs of whose money I hold in my + hands. I will wager the Jew’s letter and seal were forged! In short, sire, + I found myself this morning robbed of those jewels you admired so much. + They have been ravished from me, sire! To steal the jewels of the Elector + of Bavaria! those scoundrels respect nothing! they’ll steal your kingdom + if you don’t take care. As soon as I missed the jewels I went up to the + room of that apprentice, who is, assuredly, a past-master in thieving. + This time we don’t lack proof. He had forced the lock of his door. But + when he got back to his room, the moon was down and he couldn’t find all + the screws. Happily, I felt one under my feet when I entered the room. He + was sound asleep, the beggar, tired out. Just fancy, gentlemen, he got + down into my strong-room by the chimney. To-morrow, or to-night, rather, + I’ll roast him alive. He had a silk ladder, and his clothes were covered + with marks of his clambering over the roof and down the chimney. He meant + to stay with me, and ruin me, night after night, the bold wretch! But + where are the jewels? The country-folks coming into town early saw him on + the roof. He must have had accomplices, who waited for him by that + embankment you have been making. Ah, sire, you are the accomplice of + fellows who come in boats; crack! they get off with everything, and leave + no traces! But we hold this fellow as a key, the bold scoundrel! ah! a + fine morsel he’ll be for the gallows. With a little bit of <i>questioning</i> + beforehand, we shall know all. Why, the glory of your reign is concerned + in it! there ought not to be robbers in the land under so great a king.” + </p> + <p> + The king was not listening. He had fallen into one of those gloomy + meditations which became so frequent during the last years of his life. A + deep silence reigned. + </p> + <p> + “This is your business,” he said at length to Tristan; “take you hold of + it.” + </p> + <p> + He rose, walked a few steps away, and the courtiers left him alone. + Presently he saw Cornelius, mounted on his mule, riding away in company + with the grand provost. + </p> + <p> + “Where are those thousand gold crowns?” he called to him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! sire, you are too great a king! there is no sum that can pay for your + justice.” + </p> + <p> + Louis XI. smiled. The courtiers envied the frank speech and privileges of + the old silversmith, who promptly disappeared down the avenue of young + mulberries which led from Tours to Plessis. + </p> + <p> + Exhausted with fatigue, the young seigneur had indeed fallen soundly + asleep. Returning from his gallant adventure, he no longer felt the same + ardor and courage to defend himself against distant or imaginary dangers + with which he had rushed into the perils of the night. He had even + postponed till the morrow the cleaning of his soiled garments; a great + blunder, in which all else conspired. It was true that, lacking the + moonlight, he had missed finding all the screws of that cursed lock; he + had no patience to look for them. With the “laisser-aller” of a tired man, + he trusted to his luck, which had so far served him well. He did, however, + make a sort of compact with himself to awake at daybreak, but the events + of the day and the agitations of the night did not allow him to keep faith + with himself. Happiness is forgetful. Cornelius no longer seemed + formidable to the young man when he threw himself on the pallet where so + many poor wretches had wakened to their doom; and this light-hearted + heedlessness proved his ruin. While the king’s silversmith rode back from + Plessis, accompanied by the grand provost and his redoubtable archers. The + false Goulenoire was being watched by the old sister, seated on the + corkscrew staircase oblivious of the cold, and knitting socks for + Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + The young man continued to dream of the secret delights of that charming + night, ignorant of the danger that was galloping towards him. He saw + himself on a cushion at the feet of the countess, his head on her knees in + the ardor of his love; he listened to the story of her persecutions and + the details of the count’s tyranny; he grew pitiful over the poor lady, + who was, in truth, the best-loved natural daughter of Louis XI. He + promised her to go on the morrow and reveal her wrongs to that terrible + father; everything, he assured her, should be settled as they wished, the + marriage broken off, the husband banished,—and all this within reach + of that husband’s sword, of which they might both be the victims if the + slightest noise awakened him. But in the young man’s dream the gleam of + the lamp, the flame of their eyes, the colors of the stuffs and the + tapestries were more vivid, more of love was in the air, more fire about + them, than there had been in the actual scene. The Marie of his sleep + resisted far less than the living Marie those adoring looks, those tender + entreaties, those adroit silences, those voluptuous solicitations, those + false generosities, which render the first moments of a passion so + completely ardent, and shed into the soul a fresh delirium at each new + step in love. + </p> + <p> + Following the amorous jurisprudence of the period, Marie de Saint-Vallier + granted to her lover all the superficial rights of the tender passion. She + willingly allowed him to kiss her foot, her robe, her hands, her throat; + she avowed her love, she accepted the devotion and life of her lover; she + permitted him to die for her; she yielded to an intoxication which the + sternness of her semi-chastity increased; but farther than that she would + not go; and she made her deliverance the price of the highest rewards of + his love. In those days, in order to dissolve a marriage it was necessary + to go to Rome; to obtain the help of certain cardinals, and to appear + before the sovereign pontiff in person armed with the approval of the + king. Marie was firm in maintaining her liberty to love, that she might + sacrifice it to him later. Nearly every woman in those days had sufficient + power to establish her empire over the heart of a man in a way to make + that passion the history of his whole life, the spring and principle of + his highest resolutions. Women were a power in France; they were so many + sovereigns; they had forms of noble pride; their lovers belonged to them + far more than they gave themselves to their lovers; often their love cost + blood, and to be their lover it was necessary to incur great dangers. But + the Marie of his dream made small defence against the young seigneur’s + ardent entreaties. Which of the two was the reality? Did the false + apprentice in his dream see the true woman? Had he seen in the hotel de + Poitiers a lady masked in virtue? The question is difficult to decide; and + the honor of women demands that it be left, as it were, in litigation. + </p> + <p> + At the moment when the Marie of the dream may have been about to forget + her high dignity as mistress, the lover felt himself seized by an iron + hand, and the sour voice of the grand provost said to him:— + </p> + <p> + “Come, midnight Christian, who seeks God on the roofs, wake up!” + </p> + <p> + The young man saw the black face of Tristan l’Hermite above him, and + recognized his sardonic smile; then, on the steps of the corkscrew + staircase, he saw Cornelius, his sister, and behind them the provost + guard. At that sight, and observing the diabolical faces expressing either + hatred or curiosity of persons whose business it was to hang others, the + so-called Philippe Goulenoire sat up on his pallet and rubbed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Mort-Dieu!” he cried, seizing his dagger, which was under the pillow. + “Now is the time to play our knives.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho!” cried Tristan, “that’s the speech of a noble. Methinks I see + Georges d’Estouteville, the nephew of the grand master of the archers.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing his real name uttered by Tristan, young d’Estouteville thought + less of himself than of the dangers his recognition would bring upon his + unfortunate mistress. To avert suspicion he cried out:— + </p> + <p> + “Ventre-Mahom! help, help to me, comrades!” + </p> + <p> + After that outcry, made by a man who was really in despair, the young + courtier gave a bound, dagger in hand, and reached the landing. But the + myrmidons of the grand provost were accustomed to such proceedings. When + Georges d’Estouteville reached the stairs they seized him dexterously, not + surprised by the vigorous thrust he made at them with his dagger, the + blade of which fortunately slipped on the corselet of a guard; then, + having disarmed him, they bound his hands, and threw him on the pallet + before their leader, who stood motionless and thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + Tristan looked silently at the prisoner’s hands, then he said to + Cornelius, pointing to them:— + </p> + <p> + “Those are not the hands of a beggar, nor of an apprentice. He is a + noble.” + </p> + <p> + “Say a thief!” cried the torconnier. “My good Tristan, noble or serf, he + has ruined me, the villain! I want to see his feet warmed in your pretty + boots. He is, I don’t doubt it, the leader of that gang of devils, visible + and invisible, who know all my secrets, open my locks, rob me, murder me! + They have grown rich out of me, Tristan. Ha! this time we shall get back + the treasure, for the fellow has the face of the king of Egypt. I shall + recover my dear rubies, and all the sums I have lost; and our worthy king + shall have his share in the harvest.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, our hiding-places are much more secure than yours!” said Georges, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! the damned thief, he confesses!” cried the miser. + </p> + <p> + The grand provost was engaged in attentively examining Georges + d’Estouteville’s clothes and the lock of the door. + </p> + <p> + “How did you get out those screws?” + </p> + <p> + Georges kept silence. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very good, be silent if you choose. You will soon confess on the holy + rack,” said Tristan. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I call business!” cried Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Take him off,” said the grand provost to the guards. + </p> + <p> + Georges d’Estouteville asked permission to dress himself. On a sign from + their chief, the men put on his clothing with the clever rapidity of a + nurse who profits by the momentary tranquillity of her nursling. + </p> + <p> + An immense crowd cumbered the rue du Murier. The growls of the populace + kept increasing, and seemed the precursors of a riot. From early morning + the news of the robbery had spread through the town. On all sides the + “apprentice,” said to be young and handsome, had awakened public sympathy, + and revived the hatred felt against Cornelius; so that there was not a + young man in the town, nor a young woman with a fresh face and pretty feet + to exhibit, who was not determined to see the victim. When Georges issued + from the house, led by one of the provost’s guard, who, after he had + mounted his horse, kept the strong leathern thong that bound the prisoner + tightly twisted round his arm, a horrible uproar arose. Whether the + populace merely wished to see this new victim, or whether it intended to + rescue him, certain it is that those behind pressed those in front upon + the little squad of cavalry posted around the Malemaison. At this moment, + Cornelius, aided by his sister, closed the door, and slammed the iron + shutters with the violence of panic terror. Tristan, who was not + accustomed to respect the populace of those days (inasmuch as they were + not yet the sovereign people), cared little for a probable riot. + </p> + <p> + “Push on! push on!” he said to his men. + </p> + <p> + At the voice of their leader the archers spurred their horses towards the + end of the street. The crowd, seeing one or two of their number knocked + down by the horses and trampled on, and some others pressed against the + sides of the horses and nearly suffocated, took the wiser course of + retreating to their homes. + </p> + <p> + “Make room for the king’s justice!” cried Tristan. “What are you doing + here? Do you want to be hanged too? Go home, my friends, go home; your + dinner is getting burnt. Hey! my good woman, go and darn your husband’s + stockings; get back to your needles.” + </p> + <p> + Though such speeches showed that the grand provost was in good humor, they + made the most obstreperous fly as if he were flinging the plague upon + them. + </p> + <p> + At the moment when the first movement of the crowd took place, Georges + d’Estouteville was stupefied at seeing, at one of the windows of the hotel + de Poitiers, his dear Marie de Saint-Vallier, laughing with the count. She + was mocking at <i>him</i>, poor devoted lover, who was going to his death + for her. But perhaps she was only amused at seeing the caps of the + populace carried off on the spears of the archers. We must be twenty-three + years old, rich in illusions, able to believe in a woman’s love, loving + ourselves with all the forces of our being, risking our life with delight + on the faith of a kiss, and then betrayed, to understand the fury of + hatred and despair which took possession of Georges d’Estouteville’s heart + at the sight of his laughing mistress, from whom he received a cold and + indifferent glance. No doubt she had been there some time; she was leaning + from the window with her arms on a cushion; she was at her ease, and her + old man seemed content. He, too, was laughing, the cursed hunchback! A few + tears escaped the eyes of the young man; but when Marie de Saint-Vallier + saw them she turned hastily away. Those tears were suddenly dried, + however, when Georges beheld the red and white plumes of the page who was + devoted to his interests. The count took no notice of this servitor, who + advanced to his mistress on tiptoe. After the page had said a few words in + her ear, Marie returned to the window. Escaping for a moment the perpetual + watchfulness of her tyrant, she cast one glance upon Georges that was + brilliant with the fires of love and hope, seeming to say:— + </p> + <p> + “I am watching over you.” + </p> + <p> + Had she cried the words aloud, she could not have expressed their meaning + more plainly than in that glance, full of a thousand thoughts, in which + terror, hope, pleasure, the dangers of their mutual situation all took + part. He had passed, in that one moment, from heaven to martyrdom and from + martyrdom back to heaven! So then, the brave young seigneur, light-hearted + and content, walked gaily to his doom; thinking that the horrors of the + “question” were not sufficient payment for the delights of his love. + </p> + <p> + As Tristan was about leaving the rue du Murier, his people stopped him, + seeing an officer of the Scottish guard riding towards them at full speed. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked the provost. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing that concerns you,” replied the officer, disdainfully. “The king + has sent me to fetch the Comte and Comtesse de Saint-Vallier, whom he + invites to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + The grand provost had scarcely reached the embankment leading to Plessis, + when the count and his wife, both mounted, she on her white mule, he on + his horse, and followed by two pages, joined the archers, in order to + enter Plessis-lez-Tours in company. All were moving slowly. Georges was on + foot, between two guards on horseback, one of whom held him still by the + leathern thong. Tristan, the count, and his wife were naturally in + advance; the criminal followed them. Mingling with the archers, the young + page questioned them, speaking sometimes to the prisoner, so that he + adroitly managed to say to him in a low voice:— + </p> + <p> + “I jumped the garden wall and took a letter to Plessis from madame to the + king. She came near dying when she heard of the accusation against you. + Take courage. She is going now to speak to the king about you.” + </p> + <p> + Love had already given strength and wiliness to the countess. Her laughter + was part of the heroism which women display in the great crises of life. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the singular fancy which possessed the author of “Quentin + Durward” to place the royal castle of Plessis-lez-Tours upon a height, we + must content ourselves by leaving it where it really was, namely on low + land, protected on either side by the Cher and the Loire; also by the + canal Sainte-Anne, so named by Louis XI. in honor of his beloved daughter, + Madame de Beaujeu. By uniting the two rivers between the city of Tours and + Plessis this canal not only served as a formidable protection to the + castle, but it offered a most precious road to commerce. On the side + towards Brehemont, a vast and fertile plain, the park was defended by a + moat, the remains of which still show its enormous breadth and depth. At a + period when the power of artillery was still in embryo, the position of + Plessis, long since chosen by Louis XI. for his favorite retreat, might be + considered impregnable. The castle, built of brick and stone, had nothing + remarkable about it; but it was surrounded by noble trees, and from its + windows could be seen, through vistas cut in the park (plexitium), the + finest points of view in the world. No rival mansion rose near this + solitary castle, standing in the very centre of the little plain reserved + for the king and guarded by four streams of water. + </p> + <p> + If we may believe tradition, Louis XI. occupied the west wing, and from + his chamber he could see, at a glance the course of the Loire, the + opposite bank of the river, the pretty valley which the Croisille waters, + and part of the slopes of Saint-Cyr. Also, from the windows that opened on + the courtyard, he saw the entrance to his fortress and the embankment by + which he had connected his favorite residence with the city of Tours. If + Louis XI. had bestowed upon the building of his castle the luxury of + architecture which Francois I. displayed afterwards at Chambord, the + dwelling of the kings of France would ever have remained in Touraine. It + is enough to see this splendid position and its magical effects to be + convinced of its superiority over the sites of all other royal residences. + </p> + <p> + Louis XI., now in the fifty-seventh year of his age, had scarcely more + than three years longer to live; already he felt the coming on of death in + the attacks of his mortal malady. Delivered from his enemies; on the point + of increasing the territory of France by the possessions of the Dukes of + Burgundy through the marriage of the Dauphin with Marguerite, heiress of + Burgundy (brought about by means of Desquerdes, commander of his troops in + Flanders); having established his authority everywhere, and now meditating + ameliorations in his kingdom of all kinds, he saw time slipping past him + rapidly with no further troubles than those of old age. Deceived by every + one, even by the minions about him, experience had intensified his natural + distrust. The desire to live became in him the egotism of a king who has + incarnated himself in his people; he wished to prolong his life in order + to carry out his vast designs. + </p> + <p> + All that the common-sense of publicists and the genius of revolutions has + since introduced of change in the character of monarchy, Louis XI. had + thought of and devised. Unity of taxation, equality of subjects before the + law (the prince being then the law) were the objects of his bold + endeavors. On All-Saints’ eve he had gathered together the learned + goldsmiths of his kingdom for the purpose of establishing in France a + unity of weights and measures, as he had already established the unity of + power. Thus, his vast spirit hovered like an eagle over his empire, + joining in a singular manner the prudence of a king to the natural + idiosyncracies of a man of lofty aims. At no period in our history has the + great figure of Monarchy been finer or more poetic. Amazing assemblages of + contrasts! a great power in a feeble body; a spirit unbelieving as to all + things here below, devoutly believing in the practices of religion; a man + struggling with two powers greater than his own—the present and the + future; the future in which he feared eternal punishment, a fear which led + him to make so many sacrifices to the Church; the present, namely his life + itself, for the saving of which he blindly obeyed Coyctier. This king, who + crushed down all about him, was himself crushed down by remorse, and by + disease in the midst of the great poem of defiant monarchy in which all + power was concentrated. It was once more the gigantic and ever magnificent + combat of Man in the highest manifestation of his forces tilting against + Nature. + </p> + <p> + While awaiting his dinner, a repast which was taken in those days between + eleven o’clock and mid-day, Louis XI., returning from a short promenade, + sat down in a huge tapestried chair near the fireplace in his chamber. + Olivier de Daim, and his doctor, Coyctier, looked at each other without a + word, standing in the recess of a window and watching their master, who + presently seemed asleep. The only sound that was heard were the steps of + the two chamberlains on service, the Sire de Montresor, and Jean Dufou, + Sire de Montbazon, who were walking up and down the adjoining hall. These + two Tourainean seigneurs looked at the captain of the Scottish guard, who + was sleeping in his chair, according to his usual custom. The king himself + appeared to be dozing. His head had drooped upon his breast; his cap, + pulled forward on his forehead, hid his eyes. Thus seated in his high + chair, surmounted by the royal crown, he seemed crouched together like a + man who had fallen asleep in the midst of some deep meditation. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Tristan and his cortege crossed the canal by the bridge of + Sainte-Anne, about two hundred feet from the entrance to Plessis. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that?” said the king. + </p> + <p> + The two courtiers questioned each other with a look of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “He is dreaming,” said Coyctier, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Pasques-Dieu!” cried Louis XI., “do you think me mad? People are crossing + the bridge. It is true I am near the chimney, and I may hear sounds more + easily than you. That effect of nature might be utilized,” he added + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “What a man!” said de Daim. + </p> + <p> + Louis XI. rose and went toward one of the windows that looked on the town. + He saw the grand provost, and exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha! here’s my crony and his thief. And here comes my little Marie de + Saint-Vallier; I’d forgotten all about it. Olivier,” he said, addressing + the barber, “go and tell Monsieur de Montbazon to serve some good + Bourgeuil wine at dinner, and see that the cook doesn’t forget the + lampreys; Madame le comtesse likes both those things. Can I eat lampreys?” + he added, after a pause, looking anxiously at Coyctier. + </p> + <p> + For all answer the physician began to examine his master’s face. The two + men were a picture in themselves. + </p> + <p> + History and romance-writers have consecrated the brown camlet coat, and + the breeches of the same stuff, worn by Louis XI. His cap, decorated with + leaden medallions, and his collar of the order of Saint-Michel, are not + less celebrated; but no writer, no painter has represented the face of + that terrible monarch in his last years,—a sickly, hollow, yellow + and brown face, all the features of which expressed a sour craftiness, a + cold sarcasm. In that mask was the forehead of a great man, a brow + furrowed with wrinkles, and weighty with high thoughts; but in his cheeks + and on his lips there was something indescribably vulgar and common. + Looking at certain details of that countenance you would have thought him + a debauched husbandman, or a miserly peddler; and yet, above these vague + resemblances and the decrepitude of a dying old man, the king, the man of + power, rose supreme. His eyes, of a light yellow, seemed at first sight + extinct; but a spark of courage and of anger lurked there, and at the + slightest touch it could burst into flames and cast fire about him. The + doctor was a stout burgher, with a florid face, dressed in black, + peremptory, greedy of gain, and self-important. These two personages were + framed, as it were, in that panelled chamber, hung with high-warped + tapestries of Flanders, the ceiling of which, made of carved beams, was + blackened by smoke. The furniture, the bed, all inlaid with arabesques in + pewter, would seem to-day more precious than they were at that period when + the arts were beginning to produce their choicest masterpieces. + </p> + <p> + “Lampreys are not good for you,” replied the physician. + </p> + <p> + That title, recently substituted for the former term of “myrrh-master,” is + still applied to the faculty in England. The name was at this period given + to doctors everywhere. + </p> + <p> + “Then what may I eat?” asked the king, humbly. + </p> + <p> + “Salt mackerel. Otherwise, you have so much bile in motion that you may + die on All-Souls’ Day.” + </p> + <p> + “To-day!” cried the king in terror. + </p> + <p> + “Compose yourself, sire,” replied Coyctier. “I am here. Try not to fret + your mind; find some way to amuse yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said the king, “my daughter Marie used to succeed in that difficult + business.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, Imbert de Bastarnay, sire of Montresor and Bridore, rapped + softly on the royal door. On receiving the king’s permission he entered + and announced the Comte and Comtesse de Saint-Vallier. Louis XI. made a + sign. Marie appeared, followed by her old husband, who allowed her to pass + in first. + </p> + <p> + “Good-day, my children,” said the king. + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” replied his daughter in a low voice, as she embraced him, “I want + to speak to you in secret.” + </p> + <p> + Louis XI. appeared not to have heard her. He turned to the door and called + out in a hollow voice, “Hola, Dufou!” + </p> + <p> + Dufou, seigneur of Montbazon and grand cup-bearer of France, entered in + haste. + </p> + <p> + “Go to the maitre d’hotel, and tell him I must have salt mackerel for + dinner. And go to Madame de Beaujeu, and let her know that I wish to dine + alone to-day. Do you know, madame,” continued the king, pretending to be + slightly angry, “that you neglect me? It is almost three years since I + have seen you. Come, come here, my pretty,” he added, sitting down and + holding out his arms to her. “How thin you have grown! Why have you let + her grow so thin?” said the king, roughly, addressing the Comte de + Poitiers. + </p> + <p> + The jealous husband cast so frightened a look at his wife that she almost + pitied him. + </p> + <p> + “Happiness, sire!” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you love each other too much,—is that it?” said the king, + holding his daughter between his knees. “I did right to call you + Mary-full-of-grace. Coyctier, leave us! Now, then, what do you want of + me?” he said to his daughter the moment the doctor had gone. “After + sending me your—” + </p> + <p> + In this danger, Marie boldly put her hand on the king’s lips and said in + his ear,— + </p> + <p> + “I always thought you cautious and penetrating.” + </p> + <p> + “Saint-Vallier,” said the king, laughing, “I think that Bridore has + something to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + The count left the room; but he made a gesture with his shoulders well + known to his wife, who could guess the thoughts of the jealous man, and + knew she must forestall his cruel designs. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, my child, how do you think I am,—hey? Do I seem changed to + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Sire, do you want me to tell you the real truth, or would you rather I + deceived you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, in a low voice, “I want to know truly what to expect.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case, I think you look very ill to-day; but you will not let my + truthfulness injure the success of my cause, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “What is your cause?” asked the king, frowning and passing a hand across + his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sire,” she replied, “the young man you have had arrested for robbing + your silversmith Cornelius, and who is now in the hands of the grand + provost, is innocent of the robbery.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know that?” asked the king. Marie lowered her head and + blushed. + </p> + <p> + “I need not ask if there is love in this business,” said the king, raising + his daughter’s head gently and stroking her chin. “If you don’t confess + every morning, my daughter, you will go to hell.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannot you oblige me without forcing me to tell my secret thoughts?” + </p> + <p> + “Where would be the pleasure?” cried the king, seeing only an amusement in + this affair. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! do you want your pleasure to cost me grief?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you sly little girl, haven’t you any confidence in me?” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sire, set the young nobleman at liberty.” + </p> + <p> + “So! he is a nobleman, is he?” cried the king. “Then he is not an + apprentice?” + </p> + <p> + “He is certainly innocent,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see it so,” said the king, coldly. “I am the law and justice of + my kingdom, and I must punish evil-doers.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, don’t put on that solemn face of yours! Give me the life of that + young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it yours already?” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” she said, “I am pure and virtuous. You are jesting at—” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Louis XI., interrupting her, “as I am not to know the truth, + I think Tristan had better clear it up.” + </p> + <p> + Marie turned pale, but she made a violent effort and cried out:— + </p> + <p> + “Sire, I assure you, you will regret all this. The so-called thief stole + nothing. If you will grant me his pardon, I will tell you everything, even + though you may punish me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho! this is getting serious,” cried the king, shoving up his cap. + “Speak out, my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, in a low voice, putting her lips to her father’s ear, + “he was in my room all night.” + </p> + <p> + “He could be there, and yet rob Cornelius. Two robberies!” + </p> + <p> + “I have your blood in my veins, and I was not born to love a scoundrel. + That young seigneur is the nephew of the captain-general of your archers.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” cried the king; “you are hard to confess.” + </p> + <p> + With the words the king pushed his daughter from his knee, and hurried to + the door of the room, but softly on tiptoe, making no noise. For the last + moment or two, the light from a window in the adjoining hall, shining + through a space below the door, had shown him the shadow of a listener’s + foot projected on the floor of his chamber. He opened the door abruptly, + and surprised the Comte de Saint-Vallier eavesdropping. + </p> + <p> + “Pasques-Dieu!” he cried; “here’s an audacity that deserves the axe.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” replied Saint-Vallier, haughtily, “I would prefer an axe at my + throat to the ornament of marriage on my head.” + </p> + <p> + “You may have both,” said Louis XI. “None of you are safe from such + infirmities, messieurs. Go into the farther hall. Conyngham,” continued + the king, addressing the captain of the guard, “you are asleep! Where is + Monsieur de Bridore? Why do you let me be approached in this way? + Pasques-Dieu! the lowest burgher in Tours is better served than I am.” + </p> + <p> + After scolding thus, Louis re-entered his room; but he took care to draw + the tapestried curtain, which made a second door, intended more to stifle + the words of the king than the whistling of the harsh north wind. + </p> + <p> + “So, my daughter,” he said, liking to play with her as a cat plays with a + mouse, “Georges d’Estouteville was your lover last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sire!” + </p> + <p> + “No! Ah! by Saint-Carpion, he deserves to die. Did the scamp not think my + daughter beautiful?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that is not it,” she said. “He kissed my feet and hands with an ardor + that might have touched the most virtuous of women. He loves me truly in + all honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you take me for Saint-Louis, and suppose I should believe such + nonsense? A young fellow, made like him, to have risked his life just to + kiss your little slippers or your sleeves! Tell that to others.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sire, it is true. And he came for another purpose.” + </p> + <p> + Having said these words, Marie felt that she had risked the life of her + husband, for Louis instantly demanded: + </p> + <p> + “What purpose?” + </p> + <p> + The adventure amused him immensely. But he did not expect the strange + confidences his daughter now made to him after stipulating for the pardon + of her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho, Monsieur de Saint-Vallier! So you dare to shed the royal blood!” + cried the king, his eyes lighting with anger. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the bell of Plessis sounded the hour of the king’s dinner. + Leaning on the arm of his daughter, Louis XI. appeared with contracted + brows on the threshold of his chamber, and found all his servitors in + waiting. He cast an ambiguous look on the Comte de Saint-Vallier, thinking + of the sentence he meant to pronounce upon him. The deep silence which + reigned was presently broken by the steps of Tristan l’Hermite as he + mounted the grand staircase. The grand provost entered the hall, and, + advancing toward the king, said:— + </p> + <p> + “Sire, the affair is settled.” + </p> + <p> + “What! is it all over?” said the king. + </p> + <p> + “Our man is in the hands of the monks. He confessed the theft after a + touch of the ‘question.’” + </p> + <p> + The countess gave a sign, and turned pale; she could not speak, but looked + at the king. That look was observed by Saint-Vallier, who muttered in a + low tone: “I am betrayed; that thief is an acquaintance of my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” cried the king. “Some one is here who will wear out my + patience. Go at once and put a stop to the execution,” he continued, + addressing the grand provost. “You will answer with your own body for that + of the criminal, my friend. This affair must be better sifted, and I + reserve to myself the doing of it. Set the prisoner at liberty + provisionally; I can always recover him; these robbers have retreats they + frequent, lairs where they lurk. Let Cornelius know that I shall be at his + house to-night to begin the inquiry myself. Monsieur de Saint-Vallier,” + said the king, looking fixedly at the count, “I know about you. All your + blood could not pay for one drop of mine; do you hear me? By our Lady of + Clery! you have committed crimes of lese-majesty. Did I give you such a + pretty wife to make her pale and weakly? Go back to your own house, and + make your preparations for a long journey.” + </p> + <p> + The king stopped at these words from a habit of cruelty; then he added:— + </p> + <p> + “You will leave to-night to attend to my affairs with the government of + Venice. You need be under no anxiety about your wife; I shall take charge + of her at Plessis; she will certainly be safe here. Henceforth I shall + watch over her with greater care than I have done since I married her to + you.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing these words, Marie silently pressed her father’s arm as if to + thank him for his mercy and goodness. As for Louis XI., he was laughing to + himself in his sleeve. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. THE HIDDEN TREASURE + </h2> + <p> + Louis XI. was fond of intervening in the affairs of his subjects, and he + was always ready to mingle his royal majesty with the burgher life. This + taste, severely blamed by some historians, was really only a passion for + the “incognito,” one of the greatest pleasures of princes,—a sort of + momentary abdication, which enables them to put a little real life into + their existence, made insipid by the lack of opposition. Louis XI., + however, played the incognito openly. On these occasions he was always the + good fellow, endeavoring to please the people of the middle classes, whom + he made his allies against feudality. For some time past he had found no + opportunity to “make himself populace” and espouse the domestic interests + of some man “engarrie” (an old word still used in Tours, meaning engaged) + in litigious affairs, so that he shouldered the anxieties of Maitre + Cornelius eagerly, and also the secret sorrows of the Comtesse de + Saint-Vallier. Several times during dinner he said to his daughter:— + </p> + <p> + “Who, think you, could have robbed my silversmith? The robberies now + amount to over twelve hundred thousand crowns in eight years. Twelve + hundred thousand crowns, messieurs!” he continued, looking at the + seigneurs who were serving him. “Notre Dame! with a sum like that what + absolutions could be bought in Rome! And I might, Pasques-Dieu! bank the + Loire, or, better still, conquer Piedmont, a fine fortification ready-made + for this kingdom.” + </p> + <p> + When dinner was over, Louis XI. took his daughter, his doctor, and the + grand provost, with an escort of soldiers, and rode to the hotel de + Poitiers in Tours, where he found, as he expected, the Comte de + Saint-Vallier awaiting his wife, perhaps to make away with her life. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said the king, “I told you to start at once. Say farewell to + your wife now, and go to the frontier; you will be accompanied by an + escort of honor. As for your instructions and credentials, they will be in + Venice before you get there.” + </p> + <p> + Louis then gave the order—not without adding certain secret + instructions—to a lieutenant of the Scottish guard to take a squad + of men and accompany the ambassador to Venice. Saint-Vallier departed in + haste, after giving his wife a cold kiss which he would fain have made + deadly. Louis XI. then crossed over to the Malemaison, eager to begin the + unravelling of the melancholy comedy, lasting now for eight years, in the + house of his silversmith; flattering himself that, in his quality of king, + he had enough penetration to discover the secret of the robberies. + Cornelius did not see the arrival of the escort of his royal master + without uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + “Are all those persons to take part in the inquiry?” he said to the king. + </p> + <p> + Louis XI. could not help smiling as he saw the fright of the miser and his + sister. + </p> + <p> + “No, my old crony,” he said; “don’t worry yourself. They will sup at + Plessis, and you and I alone will make the investigation. I am so good in + detecting criminals, that I will wager you ten thousand crowns I shall do + so now.” + </p> + <p> + “Find him, sire, and make no wager.” + </p> + <p> + They went at once into the strong room, where the Fleming kept his + treasure. There Louis, who asked to see, in the first place, the casket + from which the jewels of the Duke of Burgundy had been taken, then the + chimney down which the robber was supposed to have descended, easily + convinced his silversmith of the falsity of the latter supposition, + inasmuch as there was no soot on the hearth,—where, in truth, a fire + was seldom made,—and no sign that any one had passed down the flue; + and moreover that the chimney issued at a part of the roof which was + almost inaccessible. At last, after two hours of close investigation, + marked with that sagacity which distinguished the suspicious mind of Louis + XI., it was clear to him, beyond all doubt, that no one had forced an + entrance into the strong-room of his silversmith. No marks of violence + were on the locks, nor on the iron coffers which contained the gold, + silver, and jewels deposited as securities by wealthy debtors. + </p> + <p> + “If the robber opened this box,” said the king, “why did he take nothing + out of it but the jewels of the Duke of Bavaria? What reason had he for + leaving that pearl necklace which lay beside them? A queer robber!” + </p> + <p> + At that remark the unhappy miser turned pale: he and the king looked at + each other for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Then, sire, what did that robber whom you have taken under your + protection come to do here, and why did he prowl about at night?” + </p> + <p> + “If you have not guessed why, my crony, I order you to remain in + ignorance. That is one of my secrets.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the devil is in my house!” cried the miser, piteously. + </p> + <p> + In any other circumstances the king would have laughed at his + silversmith’s cry; but he had suddenly become thoughtful, and was casting + on the Fleming those glances peculiar to men of talent and power which + seem to penetrate the brain. Cornelius was frightened, thinking he had in + some way offended his dangerous master. + </p> + <p> + “Devil or angel, I have him, the guilty man!” cried Louis XI. abruptly. + “If you are robbed again to-night, I shall know to-morrow who did it. Make + that old hag you call your sister come here,” he added. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius almost hesitated to leave the king alone in the room with his + hoards; but the bitter smile on Louis’s withered lips determined him. + Nevertheless he hurried back, followed by the old woman. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any flour?” demanded the king. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes; we have laid in our stock for the winter,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, go and fetch some,” said the king. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want to do with our flour, sire?” she cried, not the least + impressed by his royal majesty. + </p> + <p> + “Old fool!” said Cornelius, “go and execute the orders of our gracious + master. Shall the king lack flour?” + </p> + <p> + “Our good flour!” she grumbled, as she went downstairs. “Ah! my flour!” + </p> + <p> + Then she returned, and said to the king:— + </p> + <p> + “Sire, is it only a royal notion to examine my flour?” + </p> + <p> + At last she reappeared, bearing one of those stout linen bags which, from + time immemorial, have been used in Touraine to carry or bring, to and from + market, nuts, fruits, or wheat. The bag was half full of flour. The + housekeeper opened it and showed it to the king, on whom she cast the + rapid, savage look with which old maids appear to squirt venom upon men. + </p> + <p> + “It costs six sous the ‘septeree,’” she said. + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter?” said the king. “Spread it on the floor; but be + careful to make an even layer of it—as if it had fallen like snow.” + </p> + <p> + The old maid did not comprehend. This proposal astonished her as though + the end of the world had come. + </p> + <p> + “My flour, sire! on the ground! But—” + </p> + <p> + Maitre Cornelius, who was beginning to understand, though vaguely, the + intentions of the king, seized the bag and gently poured its contents on + the floor. The old woman quivered, but she held out her hand for the empty + bag, and when her brother gave it back to her she disappeared with a heavy + sigh. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius then took a feather broom and gently smoothed the flour till it + looked like a fall of snow, retreating step by step as he did so, followed + by the king, who seemed much amused by the operation. When they reached + the door Louis XI. said to his silversmith, “Are there two keys to the + lock?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sire.” + </p> + <p> + The king then examined the structure of the door, which was braced with + large plates and bars of iron, all of which converged to a secret lock, + the key of which was kept by Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + After examining everything, the king sent for Tristan, and ordered him to + post several of his men for the night, and with the greatest secrecy, in + the mulberry trees on the embankment and on the roofs of the adjoining + houses, and to assemble at once the rest of his men and escort him back to + Plessis, so as to give the idea in the town that he himself would not sup + with Cornelius. Next, he told the miser to close his windows with the + utmost care, that no single ray of light should escape from the house, and + then he departed with much pomp for Plessis along the embankment; but + there he secretly left his escort, and returned by a door in the ramparts + to the house of the torconnier. All these precautions were so well taken + that the people of Tours really thought the king had returned to Plessis, + and would sup on the morrow with Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + Towards eight o’clock that evening, as the king was supping with his + physician, Cornelius, and the captain of his guard, and holding much + jovial converse, forgetting for the time being that he was ill and in + danger of death, the deepest silence reigned without, and all passers, + even the wariest robber, would have believed that the Malemaison was + occupied as usual. + </p> + <p> + “I hope,” said the king, laughing, “that my silversmith shall be robbed + to-night, so that my curiosity may be satisfied. Therefore, messieurs, no + one is to leave his chamber to-morrow morning without my order, under pain + of grievous punishment.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon, all went to bed. The next morning, Louis XI. was the first to + leave his apartment, and he went at once to the door of the strong-room. + He was not a little astonished to see, as he went along, the marks of a + large foot along the stairways and corridors of the house. Carefully + avoiding those precious footprints, he followed them to the door of the + treasure-room, which he found locked without a sign of fracture or + defacement. Then he studied the direction of the steps; but as they grew + gradually fainter, they finally left not the slightest trace, and it was + impossible for him to discover where the robber had fled. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, crony!” called out the king, “you have been finely robbed this time.” + </p> + <p> + At these words the old Fleming hurried out of his chamber, visibly + terrified. Louis XI. made him look at the foot-prints on the stairs and + corridors, and while examining them himself for the second time, the king + chanced to observe the miser’s slippers and recognized the type of sole + that was printed in flour on the corridors. He said not a word, and + checked his laughter, remembering the innocent men who had been hanged for + the crime. The miser now hurried to his treasure. Once in the room the + king ordered him to make a new mark with his foot beside those already + existing, and easily convinced him that the robber of his treasure was no + other than himself. + </p> + <p> + “The pearl necklace is gone!” cried Cornelius. “There is sorcery in this. + I never left my room.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll know all about it now,” said the king; the evident truthfulness of + his silversmith making him still more thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + He immediately sent for the men he had stationed on the watch and asked:— + </p> + <p> + “What did you see during the night?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sire!” said the lieutenant, “an amazing sight! Your silversmith crept + down the side of the wall like a cat; so lightly that he seemed to be a + shadow.” + </p> + <p> + “I!” exclaimed Cornelius; after that one word, he remained silent, and + stood stock-still like a man who has lost the use of his limbs. + </p> + <p> + “Go away, all of you,” said the king, addressing the archers, “and tell + Messieurs Conyngham, Coyctier, Bridore, and also Tristan, to leave their + rooms and come here to mine.—You have incurred the penalty of + death,” he said to Cornelius, who, happily, did not hear him. “You have + ten murders on your conscience!” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Louis XI. gave a silent laugh, and made a pause. Presently, + remarking the strange pallor on the Fleming’s face, he added:— + </p> + <p> + “You need not be uneasy; you are more valuable to bleed than to kill. You + can get out of the claws of <i>my</i> justice by payment of a good round + sum to my treasury, but if you don’t build at least one chapel in honor of + the Virgin, you are likely to find things hot for you throughout + eternity.” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve hundred and thirty, and eighty-seven thousand crowns, make + thirteen hundred and seventeen thousand crowns,” replied Cornelius + mechanically, absorbed in his calculations. “Thirteen hundred and + seventeen thousand crowns hidden somewhere!” + </p> + <p> + “He must have buried them in some hiding-place,” muttered the king, + beginning to think the sum royally magnificent. “That was the magnet that + invariably brought him back to Tours. He felt his treasure.” + </p> + <p> + Coyctier entered at this moment. Noticing the attitude of Maitre + Cornelius, he watched him narrowly while the king related the adventure. + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” replied the physician, “there is nothing supernatural in that. + Your silversmith has the faculty of walking in his sleep. This is the + third case I have seen of that singular malady. If you would give yourself + the amusement of watching him at such times, you would see that old man + stepping without danger at the very edge of the roof. I noticed in the two + other cases I have already observed, a curious connection between the + actions of that nocturnal existence and the interests and occupations of + their daily life.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Maitre Coyctier, you are a wise man.” + </p> + <p> + “I am your physician,” replied the other, insolently. + </p> + <p> + At this answer, Louis XI. made the gesture which was customary with him + when a good idea was presented to his mind; he shoved up his cap with a + hasty motion. + </p> + <p> + “At such times,” continued Coyctier, “persons attend to their business + while asleep. As this man is fond of hoarding, he has simply pursued his + dearest habit. No doubt each of these attacks have come on after a day in + which he has felt some fears about the safety of his treasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Pasques-Dieu! and such treasure!” cried the king. + </p> + <p> + “Where is it?” asked Cornelius, who, by a singular provision of nature, + heard the remarks of the king and his physician, while continuing himself + almost torpid with thought and the shock of this singular misfortune. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” cried Coyctier, bursting into a diabolical, coarse laugh, + “somnambulists never remember on their waking what they have done when + asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave us,” said the king. + </p> + <p> + When Louis XI. was alone with his silversmith, he looked at him and + chuckled coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Messire Hoogworst,” he said, with a nod, “all treasures buried in France + belong to the king.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sire, all is yours; you are the absolute master of our lives and + fortunes; but, up to this moment, you have only taken what you need.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, old crony; if I help you to recover this treasure, you can + surely, and without fear, agree to divide it with me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sire, I will not divide it; I will give it all to you, at my death. + But what scheme have you for finding it?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall watch you myself when you are taking your nocturnal tramps. You + might fear any one but me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sire!” cried Cornelius, flinging himself at the king’s feet, “you are + the only man in the kingdom whom I would trust for such a service; and I + will try to prove my gratitude for your goodness, by doing my utmost to + promote the marriage of the Burgundian heiress with Monseigneur. She will + bring you a noble treasure, not of money, but of lands, which will round + out the glory of your crown.” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Dutchman, you are trying to hoodwink me,” said the king, + with frowning brows, “or else you have already done so.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire! can you doubt my devotion? you, who are the only man I love!” + </p> + <p> + “All that is talk,” returned the king, looking the other in the eyes. “You + need not have waited till this moment to do me that service. You are + selling me your influence—Pasques-Dieu! to me, Louis XI.! Are you + the master, and am I your servant?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sire,” said the old man, “I was waiting to surprise you agreeably + with news of the arrangements I had made for you in Ghent; I was awaiting + confirmation from Oosterlinck through that apprentice. What has become of + that young man?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” said the king; “this is only one more blunder you have + committed. I do not like persons to meddle in my affairs without my + knowledge. Enough! leave me; I wish to reflect upon all this.” + </p> + <p> + Maitre Cornelius found the agility of youth to run downstairs to the lower + rooms where he was certain to find his sister. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Jeanne, my dearest soul, a hoard is hidden in this house; I have put + thirteen hundred thousand crowns and all the jewels somewhere. I, I, I am + the robber!” + </p> + <p> + Jeanne Hoogworst rose from her stool and stood erect as if the seat she + quitted were of red-hot iron. This shock was so violent for an old maid + accustomed for years to reduce herself by voluntary fasts, that she + trembled in every limb, and horrible pains were in her back. She turned + pale by degrees, and her face,—the changes in which were difficult + to decipher among its wrinkles,—became distorted while her brother + explained to her the malady of which he was the victim, and the + extraordinary situation in which he found himself. + </p> + <p> + “Louis XI. and I,” he said in conclusion, “have just been lying to each + other like two peddlers of coconuts. You understand, my girl, that if he + follows me, he will get the secret of the hiding-place. The king alone can + watch my wanderings at night. I don’t feel sure that his conscience, near + as he is to death, can resist thirteen hundred thousand crowns. We MUST be + beforehand with him; we must find the hidden treasure and send it to + Ghent, and you alone—” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius stopped suddenly, and seemed to be weighing the heart of the + sovereign who had had thoughts of parricide at twenty-two years of age. + When his judgment of Louis XI. was concluded, he rose abruptly like a man + in haste to escape a pressing danger. At this instant, his sister, too + feeble or too strong for such a crisis, fell stark; she was dead. Maitre + Cornelius seized her, and shook her violently, crying out: + </p> + <p> + “You cannot die now. There is time enough later—Oh! it is all over. + The old hag never could do anything at the right time.” + </p> + <p> + He closed her eyes and laid her on the floor. Then the good and noble + feelings which lay at the bottom of his soul came back to him, and, half + forgetting his hidden treasure, he cried out mournfully:— + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my poor companion, have I lost you?—you who understood me so + well! Oh! you were my real treasure. There it lies, my treasure! With you, + my peace of mind, my affections, all, are gone. If you had only known what + good it would have done me to live two nights longer, you would have + lived, solely to please me, my poor sister! Ah, Jeanne! thirteen hundred + thousand crowns! Won’t that wake you?—No, she is dead!” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon, he sat down, and said no more; but two great tears issued from + his eyes and rolled down his hollow cheeks; then, with strange + exclamations of grief, he locked up the room and returned to the king. + Louis XI. was struck with the expression of sorrow on the moistened + features of his old friend. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! sire, misfortunes never come singly. My sister is dead. She precedes + me there below,” he said, pointing to the floor with a dreadful gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” cried Louis XI., who did not like to hear of death. + </p> + <p> + “I make you my heir. I care for nothing now. Here are my keys. Hang me, if + that’s your good pleasure. Take all, ransack the house; it is full of + gold. I give up all to you—” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, crony,” replied Louis XI., who was partly touched by the + sight of this strange suffering, “we shall find your treasure some fine + night, and the sight of such riches will give you heart to live. I will + come back in the course of this week—” + </p> + <p> + “As you please, sire.” + </p> + <p> + At that answer the king, who had made a few steps toward the door of the + chamber, turned round abruptly. The two men looked at each other with an + expression that neither pen nor pencil can reproduce. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, my crony,” said Louis XI. at last in a curt voice, pushing up his + cap. + </p> + <p> + “May God and the Virgin keep you in their good graces!” replied the + silversmith humbly, conducting the king to the door of the house. + </p> + <p> + After so long a friendship, the two men found a barrier raised between + them by suspicion and gold; though they had always been like one man on + the two points of gold and suspicion. But they knew each other so well, + they had so completely the habit, one may say, of each other, that the + king could divine, from the tone in which Cornelius uttered the words, “As + you please, sire,” the repugnance that his visits would henceforth cause + to the silversmith, just as the latter recognized a declaration of war in + the “Adieu, my crony,” of the king. + </p> + <p> + Thus Louis XI. and his torconnier parted much in doubt as to the conduct + they ought in future to hold to each other. The monarch possessed the + secret of the Fleming; but on the other hand, the latter could, by his + connections, bring about one of the finest acquisitions that any king of + France had ever made; namely, that of the domains of the house of + Burgundy, which the sovereigns of Europe were then coveting. The marriage + of the celebrated Marguerite depended on the people of Ghent and the + Flemings who surrounded her. The gold and the influence of Cornelius could + powerfully support the negotiations now begun by Desquerdes, the general + to whom Louis XI. had given the command of the army encamped on the + frontiers of Belgium. These two master-foxes were, therefore, like two + duellists, whose arms are paralyzed by chance. + </p> + <p> + So, whether it were that from that day the king’s health failed and went + from bad to worse, or that Cornelius did assist in bringing into France + Marguerite of Burgundy—who arrived at Ambroise in July, 1438, to + marry the Dauphin to whom she was betrothed in the chapel of the castle—certain + it is that the king took no steps in the matter of the hidden treasure; he + levied no tribute from his silversmith, and the pair remained in the + cautious condition of an armed friendship. Happily for Cornelius a rumor + was spread about Tours that his sister was the actual robber, and that she + had been secretly put to death by Tristan. Otherwise, if the true history + had been known, the whole town would have risen as one man to destroy the + Malemaison before the king could have taken measures to protect it. + </p> + <p> + But, although these historical conjectures have some foundation so far as + the inaction of Louis XI. is concerned, it is not so as regards Cornelius + Hoogworst. There was no inaction there. The silversmith spent the first + days which succeeded that fatal night in ceaseless occupation. Like + carnivorous animals confined in cages, he went and came, smelling for gold + in every corner of his house; he studied the cracks and crevices, he + sounded the walls, he besought the trees of the garden, the foundations of + the house, the roofs of the turrets, the earth and the heavens, to give + him back his treasure. Often he stood motionless for hours, casting his + eyes on all sides, plunging them into the void. Striving for the miracles + of ecstasy and the powers of sorcery, he tried to see his riches through + space and obstacles. He was constantly absorbed in one overwhelming + thought, consumed with a single desire that burned his entrails, gnawed + more cruelly still by the ever-increasing agony of the duel he was + fighting with himself since his passion for gold had turned to his own + injury,—a species of uncompleted suicide which kept him at once in + the miseries of life and in those of death. + </p> + <p> + Never was a Vice more punished by itself. A miser, locked by accident into + the subterranean strong-room that contains his treasures, has, like + Sardanapalus, the happiness of dying in the midst of his wealth. But + Cornelius, the robber and the robbed, knowing the secret of neither the + one nor the other, possessed and did not possess his treasure,—a + novel, fantastic, but continually terrible torture. Sometimes, becoming + forgetful, he would leave the little gratings of his door wide open, and + then the passers in the street could see that already wizened man, planted + on his two legs in the midst of his untilled garden, absolutely + motionless, and casting on those who watched him a fixed gaze, the + insupportable light of which froze them with terror. If, by chance, he + walked through the streets of Tours, he seemed like a stranger in them; he + knew not where he was, nor whether the sun or the moon were shining. Often + he would ask his way of those who passed him, believing that he was still + in Ghent, and seeming to be in search of something lost. + </p> + <p> + The most perennial and the best materialized of human ideas, the idea by + which man reproduces himself by creating outside of himself the fictitious + being called Property, that mental demon, drove its steel claws + perpetually into his heart. Then, in the midst of this torture, Fear + arose, with all its accompanying sentiments. Two men had his secret, the + secret he did not know himself. Louis XI. or Coyctier could post men to + watch him during his sleep and discover the unknown gulf into which he had + cast his riches,—those riches he had watered with the blood of so + many innocent men. And then, beside his fear, arose Remorse. + </p> + <p> + In order to prevent during his lifetime the abduction of his hidden + treasure, he took the most cruel precautions against sleep; besides which, + his commercial relations put him in the way of obtaining powerful + anti-narcotics. His struggles to keep awake were awful—alone with + night, silence, Remorse, and Fear, with all the thoughts that man, + instinctively perhaps, has best embodied—obedient thus to a moral + truth as yet devoid of actual proof. + </p> + <p> + At last this man so powerful, this heart so hardened by political and + commercial life, this genius, obscure in history, succumbed to the horrors + of the torture he had himself created. Maddened by certain thoughts more + agonizing than those he had as yet resisted, he cut his throat with a + razor. + </p> + <p> + This death coincided, almost, with that of Louis XI. Nothing then + restrained the populace, and Malemaison, that Evil House, was pillaged. A + tradition exists among the older inhabitants of Touraine that a contractor + of public works, named Bohier, found the miser’s treasure and used it in + the construction of Chenonceaux, that marvellous chateau which, in spite + of the wealth of several kings and the taste of Diane de Poitiers and + Catherine de’ Medici for building, remains unfinished to the present day. + </p> + <p> + Happily for Marie de Sassenage, the Comte de Saint-Vallier died, as we + know, in his embassy. The family did not become extinct. After the + departure of the count, the countess gave birth to a son, whose career was + famous in the history of France under the reign of Francois I. He was + saved by his daughter, the celebrated Diane de Poitiers, the illegitimate + great-granddaughter of Louis XI., who became the illegitimate wife, the + beloved mistress of Henri II.—for bastardy and love were hereditary + in that family of nobles. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Maitre Cornelius, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MAITRE CORNELIUS *** + +***** This file should be named 1454-h.htm or 1454-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/5/1454/ + +Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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