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Petticoat Rule, Page 2

Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy


  CHAPTER II

  THE RULERS OF FRANCE

  Great activity reigned in the corridors and kitchens of the oldchateau. M. le Chef--the only true rival the immortal Vatel everhad--in white cap and apron, calm and self-possessed as afield-marshal in the hour of victory, and surrounded by an army ofscullions and wenches, was directing the operations of dishing-up--thecrowning glory of his arduous labours. Pies and patties, haunches ofvenison, trout and carp from the Rhine were placed on gold and silverdishes and adorned with tasteful ornaments of truly architecturalbeauty and monumental proportions. These were then handed over to thefootmen, who, resplendent in gorgeous liveries of scarlet and azure,hurried along the marble passages carrying the masterpieces ofculinary art to the banqueting-hall beyond, whilst the butlers, moresedate and dignified in sober garb of puce or brown, stalked along instately repose bearing the huge tankards and crystal jugs.

  All of the best that the fine old Chateau d'Aumont could provide wasbeing requisitioned to-night, since M. le Duc and Mlle. Lydie, hisdaughter, were giving a farewell banquet to Charles Edward Stuart bythe grace of God--if not by the will of the people--King of GreatBritain and Ireland and all her dependencies beyond the seas.

  For him speeches were made, toasts drunk and glasses raised; for himthe ducal veneries had been ransacked, the ducal cellars shorn oftheir most ancient possessions; for him M. le Chef had raged andstormed for five hours, had expended the sweat of his brow and theintricacies of his brain; for him the scullions' backs had smarted,the wenches' cheeks had glowed, all to do honour to the only rightfulKing of England about to quit the hospitable land of France in orderto conquer that island kingdom which his grandfather had lost.

  But in the noble _salle d'armes_, on the other hand, there reigned apompous and dignified silence, in strange contrast to the bustle andagitation of the kitchens and the noise of loud voices and laughterthat issued from the banqueting hall whenever a door was opened andquickly shut again.

  Here perfumed candles flickered in massive candelabra, shedding dimcircles of golden light on carved woodwork, marble floor, anddull-toned tapestries. The majestic lions of D'Aumont frowned stolidlyfrom their high pedestals on this serene abode of peace and dignity,one foot resting on the gilded shield with the elaborate coat-of-armsblazoned thereon in scarlet and azure, the other poised aloft as if insolemn benediction.

  M. Joseph, own body servant to M. le Duc, in magnificent D'Aumontlivery, his cravat a marvel of costly simplicity, his elegant,well-turned calves--encased in fine silk stockings--stretched lazilybefore him, was sprawling on the brocade-covered divan in the centreof the room.

  M. Benedict, equally resplendent in a garb of motley that recalled theheraldic colours of the Comte de Stainville, stood before him, not inan attitude of deference of course, but in one of easy friendship;whilst M. Achille--a blaze of scarlet and gold--was holding out anelegant silver snuff-box to M. Joseph, who, without any superfluousmotion of his dignified person, condescended to take a pinch.

  With arm and elbow held at a graceful angle, M. Joseph paused in thevery act of conveying the snuff to his delicate nostrils. He seemed tothink that the occasion called for a remark from himself, butevidently nothing very appropriate occurred to him for the moment, soafter a few seconds of impressive silence he finally partook of thesnuff, and then flicked off the grains of dust from his immaculateazure waistcoat with a lace-edged handkerchief.

  "Where does your Marquis get his snuff?" he asked with an easygraciousness of manner.

  "We get it direct from London," replied M. Achille sententiously. "Iam personally acquainted with Mme. Veronique, who is cook to Mme. dela Beaume and the sweetheart of Jean Laurent, own body-servant toGeneral de Puisieux. The old General is Chief of Customs at Havre, soyou see we pay no duty and get the best of snuff at a ridiculousprice."

  "Ah! that's lucky for you, my good Eglinton," said M. Benedict, with asigh. "Your Marquis is a good sort, and as he is not personallyacquainted with Mme. Veronique, I doubt not but he pays full price forhis snuff."

  "One has to live, friend Stainville," quoth Achille solemnly--"and Iam not a fool!"

  "Exactly so; and with an English milor your life is an easy one,Monsieur."

  "Comme-ci! comme-ca!" nodded Achille deprecatingly.

  "Le petit Anglais is very rich?" suggested Benedict.

  "Boundlessly so!" quoth the other, with conscious pride.

  "Now, if perchance you could see your way to introducing me to Mme.Veronique. Eh? I have to pay full price for my Count's snuff, and hewill have none but the best; but if I could get Mme. Veronique'sprotection----"

  Achille's manner immediately changed at this suggestion, made withbecoming diffidence; he drew back a few steps as if to emphasize thedistance which must of necessity lie between supplicant and patron. Hetook a pinch of snuff, he blew his nose with stately deliberation--allin order to keep the petitioner waiting on tenterhooks.

  Finally he drew up his scarlet and gold shoulders until they almosttouched his ears.

  "It will be difficult, very, very difficult my good Stainville," hesaid at last, speaking in measured tones. "You see, Mme. Veronique isin a very delicate position; she has a great deal of influence ofcourse, and it is not easy to obtain her protection. Still, I will seewhat I can do, and you can place your petition before her."

  "Do not worry yourself, my good Eglinton," here interposed M. Benedictwith becoming hauteur. "I thought as you had asked me yesterday to usemy influence with our Mlle. Mariette, the fiancee of ColonelJauffroy's third footman, with regard to your nephew's advancement inhis regiment, that perhaps---- But no matter--no matter!" he added,with a deprecatory wave of the hand.

  "You completely misunderstood me, my dear Stainville," broke in M.Achille, eagerly. "I said that the matter was difficult; I did not saythat it was impossible. Mme. Veronique is beset with petitions, butyou may rely on my friendship. I will obtain the necessaryintroduction for you if you, on the other hand, will bear my nephew'sinterests in mind."

  "Say no more about it, my good Eglinton," said Benedict, with easycondescension; "your nephew will get his promotion on the word of aStainville."

  Peace and amity being once more restored between the two friends, M.Joseph thought that he had now remained silent far longer than wascompatible with his own importance.

  "It is very difficult, of course, in our position," he said pompously,"to do justice to the many demands which are made on our influence andpatronage. Take my own case, for instance--my Duke leaves allappointments in my hands. In the morning, whilst I shave him, I havebut to mention a name to him in connection with any post underGovernment that happens to be vacant, and immediately the favouredone, thus named by me, receives attention, nearly always followed by anomination."

  "Hem! hem!" came very discreetly from the lips of M. Benedict.

  "You said?" queried Joseph, with a slight lifting of the righteyebrow.

  "Oh! nothing--nothing! I pray you continue; the matter is vastlyentertaining."

  "At the present moment," continued M. Joseph, keeping a suspicious eyeon the other man, "I am deeply worried by this proposal which comesfrom the Parliaments of Rennes and Paris."

  "A new Ministry of Finance to be formed," quoth M. Achille. "We knowall about it."

  "With direct control of the nation's money and responsible to theParliaments alone," assented Joseph. "The Parliaments! Bah!" he addedin tones of supreme contempt, "_bourgeois_ the lot of them!"

  "Their demands are preposterous, so says my milor. 'Tis a marvel HisMajesty has given his consent."

  "I have advised my Duke not to listen to the rabble," said Joseph, ashe readjusted the set of his cravat. "A Ministry responsible to theParliaments! Ridiculous, I say!"

  "I understand, though," here interposed M. Achille, "that theParliaments, out of deference for His Majesty are willing that theKing himself shall appoint this new Comptroller of Finance."

  "The King, my good Eglinton," calmly retorted M. Joseph--"the Kingwill leave
this matter to us. You may take it from me that we shallappoint this new Minister, and an extremely pleasant post it will be.Comptroller of Finance! All the taxes to pass through the Minister'shands! Par Dieu! does it not open out a wide field for an ambitiousman?"

  "Hem! hem!" coughed M. Benedict again.

  "You seem to be suffering from a cold, sir," said M. Joseph irritably.

  "Not in the least," rejoined Benedict hastily--"a slight tickling inthe throat. You were saying, M. Joseph, that you hoped this newappointment would fall within your sphere of influence."

  "Nay! If you doubt me, my good Stainville----" And M. Joseph rose withslow and solemn majesty from the divan, where he had been reclining,and walking across the room with a measured step, he reached anescritoire whereon ink and pens, letters tied up in bundles, loosepapers, and all the usual paraphernalia commonly found on the desk ofa busy man. M. Joseph sat down at the table and rang a handbell.

  The next moment a young footman entered, silent and deferential.

  "Is any one in the ante-room, Paul?" asked Joseph.

  "Yes, M. Joseph."

  "How many?"

  "About thirty persons."

  "Go tell them, then, that M. Joseph is not receiving to-night. He isentertaining a circle of friends. Bring me all written petitions. Ishall be visible in my dressing room to those who have a personalintroduction at eleven o'clock to-morrow. You may go!"

  Silently as he had entered, the young man bowed and withdrew.

  M. Joseph wheeled round in his chair and turned to his friends with alook of becoming triumph.

  "Thirty persons!" he remarked simply.

  "All after this appointment?" queried Achille.

  "Their representatives, you see," explained M. Joseph airily. "Oh! myante-chamber is always full--You understand? I shave my Duke everymorning; and every one, it seems to me, is wanting to control thefinances of France."

  "Might one inquire who is your special _protege_?" asked the other.

  "Time will show," came with cryptic vagueness from the lips of M.Joseph.

  "Hem! hem!"

  In addition to a slight tickling of the throat, M. Benedict seemed tobe suffering from an affection of the left eye which caused him towink with somewhat persistent emphasis:

  "This is the third time you have made that remark, Stainville," saidJoseph severely.

  "I did not remark, my dear D'Aumont," rejoined Benedictpleasantly--"that is, I merely said 'Hem! hem!'"

  "Even so, I heard you," said Joseph, with some acerbity; "and I wouldwish to know precisely what you meant when you said 'Hem! hem!' likethat."

  "I was thinking of Mlle. Lucienne," said Benedict, with a sentimentalsigh.

  "Indeed!"

  "Yes! I am one of her sweethearts--the fourth in point of favour.Mlle. Lucienne has your young lady's ear, my good D'Aumont, and we allknow that your Duke governs the whole of France exactly as hisdaughter wishes him to do."

  "And you hope through Mlle. Lucienne's influence to obtain the newpost of Comptroller for your own Count?" asked M. Joseph, with assumedcarelessness, as he drummed a devil's tattoo on the table before him.

  A slight expression of fatuity crept into the countenance of M.Benedict. He did not wish to irritate the great man; at the same timehe felt confident in his own powers of blandishments where Mlle.Lucienne was concerned, even though he only stood fourth in point offavour in that influential lady's heart.

  "Mlle. Lucienne has promised us her support," he said, with acomplacent smile.

  "I fear me that will be of little avail," here interposed M. Achille."We have on our side, the influence of Mme. Auguste Baillon, who ishousekeeper to M. le Docteur Dubois, consulting physician to Mlle.d'Aumont. M. le Docteur is very fond of haricots cooked in lard--adish in the preparation of which Mme. Baillon excels--whilst, on theother hand, that lady's son is perruquier to my Eglinton. I thinkthere is no doubt that ours is the stronger influence, and that ifthis Ministry of Finance comes into being, we shall be the ChiefComptroller."

  "Oh, it will come into being, without any doubt," said Benedict. "Ihave it from my cousin Francois, who is one of the sweethearts ofMlle. Duprez, confidential maid to Mme. Aremberg, the jeweller's wife,that the merchants of Paris and Lyons are not at all pleased with theamount of money which the King and Mme. de Pompadour are spending."

  "Exactly! People of that sort are a veritable pestilence. They want usto pay some of the taxes--the _corvee_ or the _taille_. As if a Dukeor a Minister is going to pay taxes! Ridiculous!"

  "Ridiculous, I say," assented Achille, "though my Marquis says that inEngland even noblemen pay taxes."

  "Then we'll not go to England, friend Eglinton. Imagine shaving a Dukeor a Marquis who had paid taxes like a shopkeeper!"

  A chorus of indignation from the three gentleman rose at thesuggestion.

  "Preposterous indeed!"

  "We all know that England is a nation of shopkeepers. M. de Voltaire,who has been there, said so to us on his return."

  M. Achille, in view of the fact that he represented the Marquis ofEglinton, commonly styled "le petit Anglais," was not quite surewhether his dignity demanded that he should resent this remark of M.de Voltaire's or not.

  Fortunately he was saved from having to decide this delicate questionimmediately by the reentry of Paul into the room.

  The young footman was carrying a bundle of papers, which herespectfully presented to M. Joseph on a silver tray. The great manlooked at Paul somewhat puzzled, rubbed his chin, and contemplated thepapers with a thoughtful eye.

  "What are these?" he asked.

  "The petitions, M. Joseph," replied the young man.

  "Oh! Ah, yes!" quoth the other airily. "Quite so; but--I have no timeto read them now. You may glance through them, Paul, and let me knowif any are worthy of my consideration."

  M. Joseph was born in an epoch when reading was not considered anindispensable factor in a gentleman's education. Whether the petitionsof the thirty aspirants to the new post of Comptroller of Financewould subsequently be read by M. Paul or not it were impossible tosay; for the present he merely took up the papers again, saying quiterespectfully:

  "Yes, M. Joseph."

  "Stay! you may take cards, dice, and two flagons of Bordeaux into myboudoir."

  "Yes, M. Joseph."

  "Have you dismissed every one from the ante-chamber?"

  "All except an old man, who refuses to go."

  "Who is he?"

  "I do not know; he----"

  Further explanation was interrupted by a timid voice issuing from theopen door.

  "I only desire five minutes' conversation with M. le Duc d'Aumont."

  And a wizened little figure dressed in seedy black, with lean shanksencased in coarse woollen stockings, shuffled into the room. He seemedto be carrying a great number of papers and books under both arms, andas he stepped timidly forward some of these tumbled in a heap at hisfeet.

  "Only five minutes' conversation with M. le Duc."

  His eyes were very pale, and very watery, and his hair was of a palestraw colour. He stooped to pick up his papers, and dropped others inthe process.

  "M. le Duc is not visible," said M. Joseph majestically.

  "Perhaps a little later----" suggested the lean individual.

  "The Duke will not be visible later either."

  "Then to-morrow perhaps; I can wait--I have plenty of time on myhands."

  "You may have, but the Duke hasn't."

  In the meanwhile the wizened little man had succeeded in once morecollecting his papers together. With trembling eager hands he nowselected a folded note, which evidently had suffered somewhat throughfrequent falls on dusty floors; this he held out toward M. Joseph.

  "I have a letter to Monsieur le valet de chambre of the Duke," he saidhumbly.

  "A letter of introduction?--to me?" queried Joseph, with a distinctchange in his manner and tone. "From whom?"

  "My daughter Agathe, who brings Monsieur's chocolate in to him everymorning."
/>
  "Ah, you are Mlle. Agathe's father!" exclaimed Joseph with pleasantcondescension, as he took the letter of introduction, and, withoutglancing at it, slipped it into the pocket of his magnificent coat.Perhaps a thought subsequently crossed his mind that the timorousperson before him was not quite so simple-minded as his watery blueeyes suggested, and that the dusty and crumpled little note might be adaring fraud practised on his own influential personality, for headded with stern emphasis: "I will see Mlle. Agathe to-morrow, andwill discuss your affair with her."

  Then, as the little man did not wince under the suggestion, M. Josephsaid more urbanely:

  "By the way, what is your affair? These gentlemen"--and with agraceful gesture he indicated his two friends--"these gentlemen willpardon the liberty you are taking in discussing it before them."

  "Thank you, Monsieur; thank you, gentlemen," said the wizenedindividual humbly; "it is a matter of--er--figures."

  "Figures!"

  "Yes! This new Ministry of Finance--there will be an auditor ofaccounts wanted--several auditors, I presume--and--and I thought----"

  "Yes?" nodded M. Joseph graciously.

  "My daughter does bring you in your chocolate nice and hot, M. Joseph,does she not?--and--and I do know a lot about figures. I studiedmathematics with the late M. Descartes; I audited the books of theSociete des Comptables of Lyons for several years; and--and I havediplomas and testimonials----"

  And, carried away by another wave of anxiety, he began to fumble amonghis papers and books, which with irritating perversity immediatelytumbled pell-mell on to the floor.

  "What in the devil's name is the good of testimonials and diplomas tous, my good man?" said M. Joseph haughtily. "If, on giving the mattermy serious consideration, I come to the conclusion that you will be asuitable accountant in the new Ministerial Department, _ma foi_! mygood man, your affair is settled. No thanks, I pray!" he added, with agracious flourish of the arm; "I have been pleased with Mlle. Agathe,and I may mention your name whilst I shave M. le Duc to-morrow. Er--bythe way, what is your name?"

  "Durand, if you please, M. Joseph."

  The meagre little person with the watery blue eyes tried to expresshis gratitude by word and gesture, but his books and papers encumberedhis movements, and he was rendered doubly nervous by the presence ofthese gorgeous and stately gentlemen, and by the wave of voices andlaughter which suddenly rose from the distance, suggesting thatperhaps a brilliant company might be coming this way.

  The very thought seemed to completely terrify him; with both arms hehugged his various written treasures, and with many sideway bows andmurmurs of thanks he finally succeeded in shuffling his lean figureout of the room, closely followed by M. Paul.