LOUIS THE JUST
"For me," said the King, "these depositions were not necessary.
Your word, my dear Marcel, would have sufficed. For the courts, however, perhaps it is well that you have had them taken;moreover, they form a valuable corroboration of the treason which you lay to the charge of Monsieur de Saint-Eustache."We were standing - at least, La Fosse and I were standing, Louis XIII sat - in a room, of the Palace of Toulouse, where I had had the honour of being brought before His Majesty. La Fosse was there, because it would seem that the King had grown fond of him, and could not be without him since his coming to Toulouse.
His Majesty was, as usual, so dull and weary - not even roused by the approaching trial of Montmorency, which was the main business that had brought him South that even the company of this vapid, shallow, but irrepressibly good-humoured La Fosse, with his everlasting mythology, proved a thing desirable.
"I will see," said Louis, "that your friend the Chevalier is placed under arrest at once, and as much for his attempt upon your life as for the unstable quality of his political opinions, the law shall deal with him - conclusively." He sighed. "It always pains me to proceed to extremes against a man of his stamp. To deprive a fool of his head seems a work of supererogation."I inclined my head, and smiled at his pleasantry. Louis the just rarely permitted himself to jest, and when he did his humour was as like unto humour as water is like unto wine. Still, when a monarch jests, if you are wise, if you have a favour to sue, or a position at Court to seek or to maintain, you smile, for all that the ineptitude of his witless wit be rather provocative of sorrow.
"Nature needs meddling with at times," hazarded La Fosse, from behind His Majesty's chair. "This Saint-Eustache is a sort of Pandora's box, which it is well to close ere - ""Go to the devil," said the King shortly. "We are not jesting.
We have to do justice."
"Ah! Justice," murmured La Fosse; "I have seen pictures of the lady. She covers her eyes with a bandage, but is less discreet where the other beauties of her figure are in question."His Majesty blushed. He was above all things a chaste-minded man, modest as a nun. To the immodesty rampant about him he was in the habit of closing his eyes and his ears, until the flagrancy or the noise of it grew to proportions to which he might remain neither blind nor deaf.
"Monsieur de la Fosse," said he in an austere voice, "you weary me, and when people weary me I send them away - which is one of the reasons why I am usually so much alone. I beg that you will glance at that hunting-book, so that when I have done with Monsieur de Bardelys you may give me your impressions of it."La Fosse fell back, obedient but unabashed, and, moving to a table by the window, he opened the book Louis had pointed out.
"Now, Marcel, while that buffoon prepares to inform me that the book has been inspired by Diana herself, tell me what else you have to tell.""Naught else, Sire."
"How naught? What of this Vicomte de Lavedan.""Surely Your Majesty is satisfied that there is no charge - no heedful charge against him?""Aye, but there is a charge - a very heedful one. And so far you have afforded me no proofs of his innocence to warrant my sanctioning his enlargement.""I had thought, Sire, that it would be unnecessary to advance proofs of his innocence until there were proofs of his guilt to be refuted.
It is unusual, Your Majesty, to apprehend a gentleman so that he may show cause why he did not deserve such apprehension. The more usual course is to arrest him because there are proofs of his guilt to be preferred against him."Louis combed his beard pensively, and his melancholy eyes grew thoughtful.
"A nice point, Marcel," said he, and he yawned. "A nice point.
You should have been a lawyer." Then, with an abrupt change of manner, "Do you give me your word of honour that he is innocent?" he asked sharply.
"If Your Majesty's judges offer proof of his guilt, I give you my word that I will tear that proof to pieces.""That is not an answer. Do you swear his innocence?""Do I know what he carries in his conscience?" quoth I still fencing with the question. "How can I give my word in such a matter? Ah, Sire, it is not for nothing that they call you Louis the Just," Ipursued, adopting cajolery and presenting him with his own favourite phrase. "You will never allow a man against whom there is no shred of evidence to be confined in prison.""Is there not?" he questioned. Yet his tone grew gentler. History, he had promised himself, should know him as Louis the just, and he would do naught that might jeopardize his claim to that proud title.
"There is the evidence of this Saint-Eustache!""Would Your Majesty hang a dog upon the word of that double traitor?""Hum! You are a great advocate, Marcel. You avoid answering questions; you turn questions aside by counter-questions." He seemed to be talking more to himself than tome. "You are a much better advocate than the Vicomte's wife, for instance. She answers questions and has a temper - Ceil! what a temper!""You have seen the Vicomtesse?" I exclaimed, and I grew cold with apprehension, knowing as I did the licence of that woman's tongue.
