The Regent's Daughter & The Conspirators (Historical Novels). Alexandre DumasЧитать онлайн книгу.
door had an echo.
"Ah! what is that?" said Simiane, who had arrived first on the terrace.
"Do you see double, drunkard?" said the regent, seizing the railing of the terrace, "it is the watch, and you will get us taken to the guard-house; but I promise you I will leave you there."
At these words those who were in the street were silent, hoping that the duke and his companions would push the joke no further, but would come down and go out by the ordinary road.
"Oh! here I am," said the regent, landing on the terrace; "have you had enough, Simiane?"
"No, monseigneur," replied Simiane; and bending down to Ravanne, "that is not the watch," continued he, "not a musket—not a jerkin."
"What is the matter?" asked the regent.
"Nothing," replied Simiane, making a sign to Ravanne, "except that I continue my ascent, and invite you to follow me."
And at these words, holding out his hand to the regent, he began to scale the roof, drawing him after him. Ravanne brought up the rear.
At this sight, as there was no longer any doubt of their intention, the coalheaver uttered a malediction, and the man in the cloak a cry of rage.
"Ah! ah!" said the regent, striding on the roof, and looking down the street, where, by the light from the open window, they saw eight or ten men moving, "what the devil is that? a plot! Ah! one would suppose they wanted to scale the house—they are furious. I have a mind to ask them what we can do to help them."
"No joking, monseigneur," said Simiane; "let us go on."
"Turn by the Rue St. Honore," said the man in the cloak. "Forward, forward."
"They are pursuing us," said Simiane; "quick to the other side; back."
"I do not know what prevents me," said the man in the cloak, drawing a pistol from his belt and aiming at the regent, "from bringing him down like a partridge."
"Thousand furies!" cried the coalheaver, stopping him, "you will get us all hanged and quartered."
"But what are we to do?"
"Wait till they come down alone and break their necks, for if Providence is just, that little surprise awaits us."
"What an idea, Roquefinette!"
"Eh! colonel; no names, if you please."
"You are right. Pardieu!"
"There is no need; let us have the idea."
"Follow me," cried the man in the cloak, springing into the passage. "Let us break open the door and we will take them on the other side when they jump down."
And all that remained of his companions followed him. The others, to the number of five or six, were already making for the Rue St. Honore.
"Let us go, monseigneur," said Simiane; "we have not a minute to lose; slide on your back. It is not glorious, but it is safe."
"I think I hear them in the passage," said the regent; "what do you think, Ravanne?"
"I do not think at all," said Ravanne, "I let myself slip."
And all three descended rapidly, and arrived on the terrace.
"Here, here!" said a woman's voice, at the moment when Simiane strode over the parapet to descend his iron ladder.
"Ah! is it you, marchioness?" said the regent; "you are indeed a friend in need."
"Jump in here, and quickly."
The three fugitives sprang into the room.
"Do you like to stop here?" asked Madame de Sabran.
"Yes," said Ravanne; "I will go and look for Canillac and his night-watch."
"No, no," said the regent; "they will be scaling your house and treating it as a town taken by assault. Let us gain the Palais Royal."
And they descended the staircase rapidly and opened the garden door. There they heard the despairing blows of their pursuers against the iron gates.
"Strike, strike, my friends," said the regent, running with the carelessness and activity of a young man, "the gate is solid, and will give you plenty of work."
"Quick, quick, monseigneur," cried Simiane, who, thanks to his great height, had jumped to the ground hanging by his arms, "there they are at the end of the Rue de Valois. Put your foot on my shoulder—now the other—and let yourself slip into my arms. You are saved, thank God."
"Draw your sword, Ravanne, and let us charge these fellows," said the regent.
"In the name of Heaven, monseigneur," cried Simiane, "follow us. I am not a coward, I believe, but what you would do is mere folly. Here, Ravanne."
And the young men, each taking one of the duke's arms, led him down a passage of the Palais Royal at the moment when those who were running by the Rue de Valois were at twenty paces from them, and when the door of the passage fell under the efforts of the second troop. The whole reunited band rushed against the gate at the moment that the three gentlemen closed it behind them.
"Gentlemen," said the regent, saluting with his hand, for as to his hat, Heaven knows where that was; "I hope, for the sake of your heads, that all this was only a joke, for you are attacking those who are stronger than yourselves. Beware, to-morrow, of the lieutenant of police. Meanwhile, good-night."
And a triple shout of laughter petrified the two conspirators leaning against the gate at the head of their breathless companions.
"This man must have a compact with Satan," cried D'Harmental.
"We have lost the bet, my friends," said Roquefinette, addressing his men, who stood waiting for orders, "but we do not dismiss you yet; it is only postponed. As to the promised sum, you have already had half: to-morrow—you know where, for the rest. Good-evening. I shall be at the rendezvous to-morrow."
All the people dispersed, and the two chiefs remained alone.
"Well, colonel," said Roquefinette, looking D'Harmental full in the face.
"Well, captain," replied the chevalier; "I have a great mind to ask one thing of you."
"What?" asked Roquefinette.
"To follow me into some cross-road and blow my brains out with your pistol, that this miserable head may be punished and not recognized."
"Why so?"
"Why? Because in such matters, when one fails one is but a fool: What am I to say to Madame de Maine now?"
"What!" cried Roquefinette, "is it about that little hop-o'-my-thumb that you are bothering yourself? Pardieu! you are frantically susceptible, colonel. Why the devil does not her lame husband attend to his own affairs. I should like to have seen your prude with her two cardinals and her three or four marquises, who are bursting with fear at this moment in a corner of the arsenal, while we remain masters of the field of battle. I should like to have seen if they would have climbed walls like lizards. Stay, colonel, listen to an old fox. To be a good conspirator, you must have, first, what you have, courage; but you must also have what you have not, patience. Morbleu! if I had such an affair in my hands, I would answer for it that I would bring it to a good end, and if you like to make it over to me we will talk of that."
"But in my place," asked the colonel, "what would you say to Madame de Maine?"
"Oh! I should say, 'My princess, the regent must have been warned by his police, for he did not leave as we expected, and we saw none but his roué companions.' Then the Prince de Cellamare will say to you, 'My dear D'Harmental, we have no resources but in you.' Madame de Maine will say that all is not lost since the brave D'Harmental remains to us. The Count de Laval will grasp your hand trying to pay you a compliment, which he will not finish, because since his jaw is broken his tongue is not active, particularly for compliments. The Cardinal de Polignac will make the sign of the cross. Alberoni will swear enough to shake the heavens—in this manner you will have conciliated