A Gentleman of France | Page 9

and with such precautions? I will tell you.
But first, that my coming may not fill you with false hopes, let me say
frankly, that though I may relieve your present necessities, whether you
fall into the plan I am going to mention, or not, I cannot take you into
my service; wherein, indeed, every post is doubly filled. Du Mornay
mentioned your name to me, but in fairness to others I had to answer
that I could do nothing.'
I am bound to confess that this strange exordium dashed hopes which
had already risen to a high pitch. Recovering myself as quickly as
possible, however, I murmured that the honour of a visit from the King
of Navarre was sufficient happiness for me.
'Nay, but that honour I must take from you ' he replied, smiling; 'though
I see that you would make an excellent courtier--far better than Du
Mornay here, who never in his life made so pretty a speech. For I must
lay my commands on you to keep this visit a secret, M. de Marsac.
Should but the slightest whisper of it get abroad, your usefulness, as far
as I am concerned, would be gone, and gone for good!'
So remarkable a statement filled me with wonder I could scarcely
disguise. It was with difficulty I found words to assure the king that his
commands should be faithfully obeyed.
'Of that I am sure,' he answered with the utmost kindness. 'Where I not,
and sure, too, from what I am told of your gallantry when my cousin
took Brouage, that you are a man of deeds rather than words, I should
not be here with the proposition I am going to lay before you. It is this.
I can give you no hope of public employment, M. de Marsac, but I can

offer you an adventure if adventures be to your taste--as dangerous and
as thankless as any Amadis ever undertook.'
'As thankless, sire?' I stammered, doubting if I had heard aright, the
expression was so strange.
'As thankless,' he answered, his keen eyes seeming to read my soul. 'I
am frank with you, you see, sir,' he continued, carelessly. 'I can suggest
this adventure--it is for the good of the State--I can do no more. The
King of Navarre cannot appear in it, nor can he protect you. Succeed or
fail in it, you stead alone. The only promise I make is, that if it ever be
safe for me to acknowledge the act, I will reward the doer.'
He paused, and for a few moments I stared at him in sheer amazement.
What did he mean? Were he and the other real figures, or was I
dreaming?
'Do you understand?' he asked at length, with a touch of impatience.
'Yes, sire, I think I do,' I murmured, very certain in truth and reality that
I did not.
'What do you say, then--yes or no?' he rejoined. 'Will you undertake the
adventure, or would you hear more before you make up your mind?'
I hesitated. Had I been a younger man by ten years I should doubtless
have cried assent there and then, having been all my life ready enough
to embark on such enterprises as offered a chance of distinction. But
something in the strangeness of the king's preface, although I had it in
my heart to die for him, gave me check, and I answered, with an air of
great humility, 'You will think me but a poor courtier now, sire, yet he
is a fool who jumps into a ditch without measuring the depth. I would
fain, if I may say it without disrespect, hear all that you can tell me.'
'Then I fear,' he answered quickly, 'if you would have more light on the
matter, my friend, you must get another candle.'
I started, he spoke so abruptly; but perceiving that the candle had

indeed burned down to the socket, I rose, with many apologies, and
fetched another from the cupboard. It did not occur to me at the
moment, though it did later, that the king had purposely sought this
opportunity of consulting with his companion. I merely remarked,
when I returned to my place on the bed, that they were sitting a little
nearer one another, and that the king eyed me before he spoke--though
he still swung one foot carelessly in the air with close attention.
'I speak to you, of course, sir,' he presently went on, 'in confidence,
believing you to be an honourable as well as a brave man. That which I
wish you to do is briefly, and in a word, to carry off a lady. Nay,' he
added quickly, with a laughing grimace, 'have no fear! She is no
sweetheart of mine, nor should I go