Copyright Story. The Affair of Altamont?

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXX, Issue VII, 14 February 1903, Page 421

Copyright Story. The Affair of Altamont?

(A ROMANCE).

By

JOSEPH HATTON.

I. In the stormv life of Cardinal Mazarin there was many a strange adventure that escaped the note-books of the current chroniclers, notably the affair at Altamont. If Mazarin had not been so much of a miser, he might have rivalled the power of his predecessor, Richelieu, who was generous where policy dictated generosity. Mazarin was continually thinking of his strong box. Richelieu paid his spies liberally, and was well served. Mazarin paid his spies badly, and was ill served. Had not this been so, he could have made no mistake as to the relative loyalty and devotion of the Count de Mauray and the Duke of Valois; but if the wisest were always wise, there would be few stories to tell worth the telling. Mazarin was a man of exceptional talent, of attractive parts and appearance, and possessed a charm of manner that captivated the Queen and made him many friends; but, as I have said, he was mean. He loved money, and was unscrupulous as to how he got it. He is believed to have been ungenerous enough to make a bargain to divide half the Altamont estates with the Duke of Valois in the event of his marriage with Henriette de la Fere, and to bring this about he strained his influence even so far as to arrest her lover, the Count Louis de Mauray at the very altar. It is a strange story, and dramatic.

The Cardinal lived in considerable state at his palace in the gay capital of France, though he saw' little company and maintained a certain mystery of habit that lent itself to successful intrigue on his part and at the same time was not without its spice of peril. One quiet summer’s day his confidential attendant, the Ablie Benoni. who, like his master, had not always been a priest, was considerably surprised at a piece of news which his niece, who was in attendance on the Queen, had brought him. In the midst of the solemn ceremony of marriage, and before the vows had been taken, the Count Louis de Mauray had that morning been arrested, by order of the Cardinal. The lady was Henriette de la Fere, the orphan heiress to the castle and estates of Altamont. When her father was dying he expressed a hope that Henriette would many the Duke of Valois, though he at the same time declined to force her inclination. He knew that she preferred the young Count de Mauray, a penniless soldier, but of good family and capable of guiding his daughter in the management and control, and defence if need bo. of the territories and the stronghold of Altamont. The Cardinal had induced Henriette’s father to go so far as to name the Duke as his favourite suitor for Henriette; and, furthermore, until her marriage. to- make her a ward of the Church. “How came the information to thine ears?” asked Benoni. “I had it from the Queen herself. She bade me seek thee, and . . .” “Seek me! Surely thou art mistaken?” “I tell thee she bade me seek thee, and and find out where the Cardinal had hidden the lady of Altamont; for. between thee and me, Her Majesty is jealous.” “Jealous!” Nay, my child; thou speakest treason.” “Thou wast always discreet, my uncle Abbe; but it is no scandal between us that the Cardinal and my royal Mist ress ___ ” are • • • “Begone, begone!” exclaimed Benoni, catching her in his arms and putting bis big hand over her mouth. “I may not listen to such talk. Get thee gone! I am expecting the Cardinal every moment; it would not be well that he should find thee here.” He kissed her on both cheeks, and hurried her away, saying, “You will find a cloak and hood in my chamber by the oratory, and Jean will call you a Coach.”

Benoni, cloaked and hooded, was not only the Cardinal’s private and confidential attendant, but his close friend; one might almost say his watch dog. He stood behind the Cardinal’s chair during the most private conferences. When he retired, it was only into a small room, more like a watch box than a chamber, at the back of it, in which there was always a matchlock ready loaded and primed. His pretty niece had only just driven away, when the Cardinal entered, attended by an escort of two musketeers, who'retired as Marazin took his seat. Benoni drew his hood partly over his face, and took his stand behind the Cardinal’s chair as usual. “That dog, de Mauray, has dared to attempt marriage with a ward of the Church without asking our consent,” said the Cardinal. Benoni was not expected to do more than listen, except when his opinion was asked. “I was only just in time to prevent the scandal, not to say the sacrilege.” “And the lady?” asked Benoni. the Cardinal having paused, as if to invite remark. "In the custody of the Widow Margaretta, my housekeeper.” “Here, in the palace?” “Why not?” said the Cardinal, sharply. “Your Reverence knows what is best,” "You knew this young man, this de Mauray ?” “I knew him in his early youth. I was in his father’s service.” “A young traitor!” said the Cardinal, who was turning over papers while he talked to his attendant. Benoni was silent. “I said he is a young traitor,” “I heard your Reverence.” “You are his friend?” “I am your trusted servant —and more than that, your devoted friend, Monseigneur.” “I know it, Benoni; forgive me, my friend and ally to the death.” “To the death!” said Benoni. “It is meet that the Duke of Valois marry Henriette; her father wished it.” “The lady prefers the Count; or so I gather from the incident of this morning.” “What should a child know of preference? She is a ward of the Church; her duty is plain.” “The heart does not always go with duty.” Benoni answered, with a quiet emphasis that went home to the Queen’s priest-lover. “So much the nobler the sacrifice which is the privilege of Henriette do la Fere. And now, friend Benoni, thou shaft be a witness of our interview. I would not be alone with her.”

IL At a signal an outer guard entered, and presently Henriette de la Fere was ushered into the room, accompanied by' two of her own ladies a->l the Widow Margaretta, who withdrew as the Cardinal, with much courteous action, bowed the lady to a seat.

Then there ensued a strikingly dramatic scene between the Cardinal and the beautiful heiress of Altamont. Benoni stood grimly in his place behind the Cardinal’s chair, a figure not calculated to inspire hope in the breast of the maiden, who appealed nevertheless for mercy, and begged humbly for the release of her lover, until the Cardinal began to dictate terms to her and force upon her the suit of the Duke of Valois; and then, all timid and depressed as she had been at the outset of the interview, she rose to her feet, her eyes flashing defiance, and her manner as haughty' as if the Cardinal had been her slave rather than her gaoler. '• ’

“The Count is a traitor. I have evidence of hi» intrigues with the Frondes.” “Your evidence is false. The Queen has no more faithful subject.” “What of the Church? He would carry off her ward, and———” “He would we<l the woman who loves him.” “He would marry the Castle of Altamont.” said the Cardinal. “Acquainted with poverty, he seeks a rich wife—anil with Altamont the power to render important aid to Turenne.” “Then take the castle, take the estates. take every possession my father left to me. and give me the man I love!” “Spoken like a romantic, thoughtless •..ill.” said the Cardinal. Benoni stood firm as a rock, but liis old heart was beating with sympathy for the lovers. “-’vud are you not romantic?" said tile maiden, with, a meaning and defiant smile. “Is not her gracious Majesty, th? Queen, romantic?” The Cardinal raised his hand, with an impatient protest. “Nay. you shall hoar me,” said the daring young woman. “What is the Queen giving up for you?” “Cease, I say. Your words are treason.” “I will not cease. Is love treason? Only when it is any other love than yo-ors, monsieur le Cardinal!” “You have been set on to say this! Who has set you on—the Count ?” “You took care he should not. if he wished. You kept him fighting for France far beyond her borders; and on his return, have thwarted him with persecution and the Bastile. And me — you have robbed me of my lover—my husband!” “A’our husband—never!" exclaimed the Cardinal. “The Duke of Valois is “A Traitor to Love, to the Queen, and to France.” “Such a denunciation fits rather the Count de Mauray.” “It i« false,” exclaimed the lady, “and time will prove it.” “It is true: and you know it!” “May God open your eyes to the truth, Sil Cardinal! But listen one moment, ao.d with patience. A’ou may take my estates, and you may put me under arrest, you may take my life, but you shall never marry me to the Duke of Valois!” “1 have listened to you, and I am patient. Now listen to me. You are a ward of the Church: I am to you as your father, and the Church is your mother and all in all to you. You will al least give audience to the Duke, and listen to his respectful suit ” “I will not.” “Oh, but you will.” “Who will compel me?" • “T will.” “Whereupon, at a signal, there entered ar armed attendant, with the Widow Margaretta and two of Henriette’s lad“Conduet Mademoiselle Henriette de la Fere of Altamont to her room, and await my orders.”

111. Henriette, without deigning to acknowledge the Cardinal’s low bow, followed her maids and left the intriguing priest: who, turning to Benoni. as if nothing unusual had happened, said, “I have an appointment with Her Majesty; I shall return presently.” Benoni left his post behind the great chair, and. anticipating the Cardinal’s desire for secrecy, preceded him to a private exit, drew aside a portiere, and opened a narrow door. The Cardinal. his hands behind his back, as was the custom with him when in deep thought, disappeared. Benoni closed the door, carefully covered it with the heavy tapestry, and paced the room slowly, talking to himself. “A'rrested at the very altar. A secret marriage, then? A strange and cruel interruption of a sacred sacrament. The exigencies of State, the Cardinal will say. the policy of the Church, have to be cruel to be kind. So fine a Frenchman tis the Count, so beautiful and devoted a demoiselle—and of such distinction—and wealth! Aye. there’s the rub. Better had she been a peasant than heiress of Altamont: better the Count had been a mere citizen; for such love as theirs needs only its own jewels for adornment, nor riches to make life an idyll! A sad, unhappy world; and do

wo Churchmen seem to make it betterl** A noise outside the palace interrupted his solilloquy. He went to the deeply recessed window, that gave upon a side street leading to the courtyard. “An emeute!” he exclaimed, more byway of interrogation than alarm. “No! Troops are passing hurriedly. I see no fugitive; and yet, ot a surety, it is a hue and cry. The Cardinal fears a rising of the citizens and the Frondcurs. We live in troublous times.” For a few seconds he stood in eager watchfulness. “Mon dieu! It is a fugitive. Surely an escaped prisoner is making his way along the parapet. By Our Holy Mother. it is the Count himself.” He opened the lower casement of the great window, and beckoned. “This way.” he said, in a whisper; adding to himself, ‘Mon dieu, what am 1 doing!’ The next moment the Count de Afauray, who had escaped from the Bastile, leaped into the room. He was dressed in his wedding costume, though it was besmirched with mud and dust. He looked around the room anxiously. “Where am 1?” exclaimed the Count. “in the private reception room of His Eminence the Cardinal Mazarin.” “Escaped from the cubs to be devoured by the tiger, eh?” said the Count. Benoni, pushing aside his hood and showing his full face, replied, “Not if I can help you. Count.” “What! Benoni? Guiseppe Benoni? My old friend! Are you my good angel in disguise?” “In no disguise, Count. lam the Cardinal’s attendant and devoted servant, the Abbe Benoni.” “The devil!” exclaimed the Count. “No; neither angel nor devil.” “Anyhow, for old friendship’s sake, let me embrace thee. Guiseppe.” Benoni folded the young fellow in his arms, and then went straightway to the secret doorway of the Cardinal and listened.

“You will help me. Guiseppe?" “Aye. even if I were less beholden to you, for the sake of Mademoiselle Henriette of Altamont.” “To-day my wife; snatched from my arms by' tliy devilish master.” “Hush! Come this way,” said Benoni, leading him behind the Cardinal’s chair. “This is my private cell; it is little more, but the Cardinal never enters it.” “And dost thou stand behind his ehair, as thy predecessor, they say, stood behind the great Richelieu’s throne?” “Aye,” said Benoni. “And with thy cowl about thy face?” “Aye,” said Benoni “Not that way, then.” said the Count; “not to thy cell; but this way. Give me thy cloak and hood, thy beads and cross, and thy office. I will stand behind his chair and learn his plans, the secret of his damned conspiracy against me. Let me be thyself. Benoni, for one short hour, the Abbe Benoni!" “That would be treason of the blackest,” said the Abbe. “What was it when the Count, my father, saved thine from a cruel death?” “Hie love of the master for his servant. which survives in me." said Benoni, removing his priestly attire and clothing the fugitive. “Let me instruct you,” said Benoni. “Stand here." The Count stood behind the Cardinal's chair. Observe this panel.” He showed him a door in the wainscot. “Touch this button, the door opens. I shall be there. It communicates with ray cell, a sudden escape being necessary, which Our Blessed Mother forbid! Every secret of the place is known to me. When the Cardinal desires to be alone he will raise his right hand.” Benoni imitated the Cardinal's signal. “Upon that you will retire. . Hush! He comes. ... If you are discovered ?” “Then fear not,” said the count, drawing a dagger. “I will explain how I assailed you and forced you to relinquish your cloak and hood, and—” “Hush! Be cautious, and God be with you!”

IV. The Cardinal entered as he had quitted the chamber, without escort, but accompanied by one of his favourite henchmen, Gaspard the Hunchback, a trusted spy and a man of great cap-

adty as an administrator, and to whom, it was said, the Cardinal was indebted for valuable adviee on affairs of State. “You will take an escort of musketeers, and start for Altamont at once. You will enter into possession as mademoiselle’s steward and almoner, appointed by the Church.” The Hunchback bowed. “You saw the arrest T” “I did.” ‘'What were the Count’s parting words ?” “Fear not, Henriette, my wife; God is with us, and He is stronger than the devil.” “Meaning me, Gaspard. Well, we shall see. At Altamont, if the information of the Duke of Valois is correct, you will find the papers you wot of—the despatches to Turenne, and the plans for the defence of the castle. To-morrow Mademoiselle Henriette will take her leave of Paris for her estates and home; she will appear to have every freedom, but she will be your prisoner. You will receive the Duke of Valois, and gtrr him the hospitality of the castle—” “Damn you!” said the Count under his breath and grasping his dagger. “You spoke, Benoni?” remarked the Cardinal.

"No, your Eminence,” replied the Count, cleverly mimicking the voice and manner of Benoni; who, standing almost at his elbow, the door of his cell ajar, smiled grimly. "And now, farewell,” said the Cardinal. Gaspard kneeled and received the priest’s blessing; and the Cardinal paced the room thoughtfully. Suddenly he encountered Benoni, as he thought, meeting him in an odd and unusual way. “What would you, Benoni?” “Perhaps I would have your life,” said the Count, seizing him by the throat and raising his dagger against him. “A word, a cry, and you are a dejd man!” The Cardinal stared at his assailant, who had flung aside his hood. “I release you for a conference and a negotiation,” said the Count, withdrawing his fingers from the priest's throat. “But your life is in my hands, and I am desperate.” “Yours is the advantage. What would you?” "The revocation of your every action, official and otherwise, against Henriette of Altamont and myself.” “And if I refuse?” “1 will stab you to death where you stand.” “And if I consent, under unlawful and traitorous threats, I may recall my enforced orders.” “You will not. You are a man of honour. Your word is your bond. You have been misled, your confidence abused. The Duke of Valois is the traitor you are looking for. If you wish to live, take your oath to at once restore me to liberty and give me the authority of the Church to marry Henriette. A Cardinal cannot swear on the Crucifix under protest. Swear, or, by God. I—” Tile Count raised his dagger with one hand, and presented Benoni's crucifix with the other.

“I swear!” said Mazarin; and kissed the sacred symbol. “And now, sir, be seated, and read these papers; a glance at them should bo sufficient.” The Count drew from a secret pocket within his doublet a packet of papers. The Cardinal untied the packet, and first glanced at the papers, and then read one of them with care, his face pale, his lips trembling. Presently, as if he were alone, he began to speak. "And I trusted him, and would have done so with my honour, with my life! Oh, man. man, surely the fiend had a hand in thy creation! Of noble blood, the friend of the Queen herself, our most trusted ally—as we believed! Intriguing with Turenne, the associate of eon-pirat-ors who seek my life; his marriage with Henriette of Altamont only part of a sordid plot; anu th® Count de Mauray all his sweet mistress clata?fl —loyal, true, innocent, the one strong check to Valois’ treachery! God forgive me!” The Count stood contemplating the famous priest’s agitation. “I have not had mueh reason to be a man,” he said presently, “but it

seems to me that God has intervened today for the innocent.” “I am sure of it, my friend. And while thanking God and Our Holy Mother, I ask thy forgiveness too. Lay aside thy weapon and thy disguise and take my blessing.” The Count knelt at the Cardinal's feet, and Mazarin blessed him, not only with his priestly sign, but with words of comfort and happy promise. Then rising, the Cardinal said, “Are we friends? May I summon my attendants?” “Command me,” said the Count. “Restore Benoni to my service while I give some orders. I shall return.” As the Cardinal passed from the room two musketeers entered from the doorway and took their stand within. Benoni called the Count to his cell, and after a warm embrace took his old place behind the Cardinal’s ehair.

The Count stood as silently as Benoni. Neither spoke. The two musketeers were just as statuesque. They might have been figures in a dream. They did not seem to breathe. The Count kept his eyes fixed upon the door whence the Cardinal had disappeared. A thousand hopes and fears sped through his brain. Was the Cardinal sincere? Had he indeed seen him? Was he not still in the Bastile and dreaming all that seemed to have happened? "The minutes went by. He could hear them being ticked out on some hoarse clock. The bells of Notre Dame began to chime. “Oh, my God!” he exclaimed at last. “Patience!” whispered Benoni. Suddenly, without any apparent cause, the two musketeers turned their faces to the doorway, as if they had been automata, and then disappeared, and the door closed—with a clang, the Count thought, but every noise was exaggerated in his fancy. “Was he trapped? After all, if this was not the Bastile, was it not the tiger’s den? And Henriette —was she being hurried away to Altamont, to receive the traitorous Duke of Valois?” The Count felt that if something did not happen in another moment ha should go mad. Something did happen. The door that, to the Count’s imagination, had clanged to its fastenings like the door of a prison cell opened, and, with a cry of “Louis!” Henriette rushed into his arms.

A Girl Who Got Busy Before They Could Ring the Bell on Her. A MODERN FABLE BY GEORGE ADE. Once upon a Time there was a Lonely and Deserving Girl named Clara, who was getting so near Thirty that she didn’t want to Talk about it. Everybody had a Good word for her. She travelled with the Thoroughbreds and was Always Among Those Present; so it was hard to understand why she hadn’t Married. Other Girls not as Good Looking or Accomplished had been grabbed off while they were Buds. Already some of them were beginning to act as Chaperones for Clara. They were keeping Tab on Clara’s Age, too, and began to think that she would land on the Bargain Counter and have to be satisfied with a Widower who wore a Toupee and dyed his Eyebrows.

Clara was somewhat of a Mind Reader. She knew that the friends of her Youth were predicting a Hard Finish for her, so she decided to Fool them. And she knew that it Behooved her to Catch On before the children started in to call her Auntie.

Now, it is not to be inferred that Clara was what the Underwriters call a Bad Risk. She never had been a Drug on the Market. When she went to a Hop she didn’t have to wait for Ladies’ Choice in order to swing into the Mazey. In fact, she had been Engaged now and then, just for Practice, and she had received Offers from some of the hold-over Bachelors who went around Proposing from Force of Habit. But Clara was not out for any man who had been Turned Down elsewhere. She wanted the Right Kind and she was going to do the Picking herself.

Having made an Inventory of the Possibilities, she selected the Treasurer of the Shoe Factory, and decided that she could Love him without Straining herself. He was about her Age and was almost as good looking as a Gibson Man, and had Al Prospects. It would be no Easy Job to Land him, however, because the Competition was very Keen, and he was Wary, trying to be a Kind Friend to every Girl he knew, but playing no Favourites. He kept the parents Guessing. The Treasurer of the Shoe Factory was what any Society Paper would eail a Great Cateh.

Clara got Busy with herself and hatched a Scheme. When all the Smart Set got ready to pike away for the Heated Term Clara surprised her Friends by guessing that she would remain at Home. It was a Nervy Thing to do, because all the Social Head-Liners who could command the Price were supposed to flit off to a Summer Hotel and loiter on the Pine Veranda and try to think they were Recuperating. Clara told her Mother to go as usual, but she would stay at Home and be a Companion to poor, lonesome Papa. So all the Women went »way to the Resorts with their Cameras and Talcum Powder and Witch Hazel, and Clara was left alone in Town with the Men. It is a Traditional Fact that there is no Social Life in Town during Dog Days. But there is nothing to prevent a Bright Girl from Starting Something. That is what Clara did.

She stocked up the Refrigerator and hung a Hammock on the Lawn, with a few Easy Chairs around it. The Young Men marooned in Town heard of the Good Thing, and no one had to tear their Garments to induce them to come. They arrived at the rate of from Seven to Twelve a Night, and dipped into Papa’s Cigars and Liquid Nourishment regardless. Although Clara had remained in Town to act as Companion to Papa, it was noticed that when she had all the Company in the Evening Papa either had been Chloroformed and put to Bed, or else he had his Orders to stay Under Cover. Clara did not send for the Treasurer of the Shoe Factory. She knew better than to go out after her Prey. She allowed him to find his Way to the House

with the Others. When he came she did not chide him for failing to make his Party Call, neither did she rush toward Him with a Low Cry of Joy, thereby tipping her Hand. She knew that the Treasurer of the Shoe Factory was next to all these Boarding School Tactics, and could not be Handled by the Methods that go with the College Students. Clara had enjoyed about ten years’ Experience in handling the Creatures, and she had learned to Labour and to Wait. She simply led him into the Circle and took his Order, and allowed him to sit there in the Gloaming and observe how Popular 'he was. All the men were Scrapping to see who would be Next to sit in the Hammock with her. It looked for a while as if Clara would have to give out Checks, the same as at the Barber Shop. Late that night, when the Men walked homeward together, they remarked that Clara was a Warm Hostess. Next Evening the Treasurer of the Shoe Factory was back on the Lawn. So were all the Others. They said there was no beating a Place where you could play Shirt-Waist Man under the trees and have a Fairy Queen in White come and push Cold Drinks at you and not have to sign any Ticket. They composed Battering Songs about Clara, and every time she moved there was a Man right there with a Sofa Cushion to help her to be Comfortable. In the meantime the other Girls out at the Summer Resorts were doing the best they could with these High School Cadets, wearing Tidies around their Hats, who would rather go out in a CatBoat and get their arms tanned than remain on Shore and win the Honest Love of an American Girl, with a String to it.

Clara’s Work about this time was ever so Glossy. She began by asking the Treasurer of the Shoe Factory to come with her to the Refrigerator to get out some more imported Ginger Ale. All the men Volunteered to help, and two or three wanted to Tag along, but Clara drove them back.

They were gone a Long Time, because the Treasurer had to draw all the Corks, and they Fussed around together in the Pantry fixing up a Lunch for the Boys. Clara told him how Strong and Handy he was until he felt an increase in his Chest Measurement.

On successive evenings she had the Treasurer supervise all the Arrangements. The hired Girl had every Evening out, because it was so much more Jolly to go out and run the Place yourself. In less than a Week the Treasurer was giving Orders around the House. Every Evening she would get him back to the Kitchen and tie an Apron around him and ask what she should do .next. She made him out to be the Only One who could be Trusted. The others were Company, but he was like one of the Family. And although he was being Worked like Creamery Butter, Ise never Suspected. Her Game was to Domesticate him in Advance and let him have a Foretaste of what it is to be Boss of vour own House, except as to the Bills. The Pantry was full of Home Delicacies, such as he couldn’t get at the Hotel, and the Service was the best ever. Clara was right at his Elbow with a Willing Smile. It didn’t take him long to realize that be was missing a lot by remaining Single. He wondered why he had been so slow in getting on to Clara’s Good Points. Also he wondered if it was an Open and Shut Certainty when a dozen other Men, some of them Younger and more Gallus, were after her in Full Cry. Clara had him Pulled in, Strung and Hung over the side of the Boat. Of course, if all the other Girls had been in town they would have Tumbled long before it ran into a Certainty, and probably they would have formed a V and rushed in to break up the Play. But the other Girls were Far Away ’ with the Old Men and the Seminary Striplings. Clara had an Open Field, with no need of any Interfering or Blocking, and if she Fell Down it was her own Fault. Besides, she had all these other Admirers set out as Decoys, to prove that if he didn’t somebody else might. The Treasurer of the Shoe Factory got a large Rally on himself, and she had to Give in and make a Promise.

He loves to tell Callers how he proposed to his Wife in the Kitchen, and he doesn’t know to this day that she wag Expecting it.