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Chicot the Jester

Год написания книги
2017
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Bussy watched narrowly everyone that passed, looking for the original of the portrait, but in vain; there were pretty, even beautiful and charming women, but not the charming creature whom he sought for. He was reduced to conversation, and the company of his ordinary friends. Antragues, always laughing and talking, was a great amusement.

“We have a frightful chief huntsman,” said he to Bussy, “do you not think so?”

“I find him horrible; what a family it must be if his children are like him. Do you know his wife?”

“He is not married.”

“How do you know?”

“From Madame de Vendron, who finds him very handsome, and would willingly make him her fourth husband. See how she keeps near him.”

“What property has he?”

“Oh! a great deal in Anjou.”

“Then he is rich?”

“They say so, but that is all; he is not of very good birth. But see, there is M. le Duc d’Anjou calling to you.”

“Ah! ma foi, he must wait. I am curious about this man. I find him singular, I hardly know why. And such an odd name.”

“Oh! it comes from Mons Soricis; Livarot knows all about that. – Here, Livarot; this Monsoreau – ”

“Well.”

“Tell us what you know about him – ”

“Willingly. Firstly, I am afraid of him.”

“Good, that is what you think; now tell us what you know.”

“Listen. I was going home one night – ”

“It begins in a terrible manner.”

“Pray let me finish. It was about six months ago, I was returning from my uncle D’Entragues, through the wood of Méridor, when all at once I heard a frightful cry, and I saw pass, with an empty saddle, a white horse, rushing through the wood. I rode on, and at the end of a long avenue, darkened by the approaching shades of night, I saw a man on a black horse; he seemed to fly. Then I heard again the same cry, and I distinguished before him on the saddle a woman, on whose mouth he had his hand. I had a gun in my hand – you know I aim well, and I should have killed him, but my gun missed fire.”

“Well?”

“I asked a woodcutter who this gentleman on the black horse was, and he said, ‘M. de Monsoreau.’”

“Well,” said Antragues, “it is not so uncommon to carry away a woman, is it, Bussy?”

“No; but, at least, one might let them cry out.”

“And who was the woman?”

“That I do not know; but he has a bad reputation,”

“Do you know anything else about him?”

“No; but he is much feared by his tenantry. However, he is a good hunter, and will fill his post better than St. Luc would have done, for whom it was first destined.”

“Do you know where St. Luc is?”

“No; is he still the king’s prisoner?”

“Not at all; he set off at one o’clock this morning to visit his country house with his wife.”

“Banished?”

“It looks like it.”

“Impossible!”

“True as the gospel; Marshal de Brissac told me so this morning.”

“Well! it has served M. de Monsoreau – ”

“Ah! I know now.”

“Know what?”

“The service that he rendered to the duke.”

“Who? St. Luc?”

“No; Monsoreau.”

“Really.”

“Yes, you shall see; come with me,” and Bussy, followed by Livarot and Antragues, galloped after the Duc d’Anjou.

“Ah, monseigneur,” said he, “what a precious man M. de Monsoreau is.”

“Ah! really; then you spoke to him?”

“Certainly.”

“And asked him what he had done for me?”

“Certainly; that was all I spoke to him for.”

“And what did he say?”

“He courteously confessed that he was your purveyor.”

“Of game?”
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