From the Memoirs of a Minister of FranceWeyman, Stanley John
General
From the Memoirs of a Minister of France
Weyman, Stanley John
Biographical fiction; France -- Kings and rulers -- Fiction; Henry IV, King of France, 1553-1610 -- Fiction
Consequently, I was not with him when the strange discovery which
followed was made. In the ordinary course of dressing, one of the
servants going to the fire-place to throw away a piece of waste linen,
thought that he heard a rat stir among the boughs. He moved them, and
in a moment a small snake crawled out, hissing and darting out its
tongue. It was killed, and then it at once occurred to the King that
he had the secret of the cat's death. He came to me hot-foot with the
news, and found me with Du Laurens who was in the act of ordering me to
bed.
I confess that I heard the story almost with apathy, so ill was I. Not
so the physician. After examining the snake, which by the King's
orders had been brought for my inspection, he pronounced that it was
not of French origin. "It has escaped from some snake-charmer," he
said.
The King seemed to be incredulous.
"I assure you that I speak the truth, sire," Du Laurens persisted.
"But how then did it come in my room?"
"That is what I should like to know, sire," the physician answered
severely; "and yet I think that I can guess. It was put there, I
fancy, by the person who sent up the milk to your chamber."
"Why do you say so?" Henry asked
"Because, sire, all snakes are inordinately fond of milk."
"Ah!" the King said slowly, with a change of countenance and a shudder
which he could not repress; "and there was milk on the floor in the
morning."
"Yes, sire; on the floor, and beside the head of your bed."
But at this stage I was attacked by a fit of illness so severe that I
had to break in on the discussion, and beg the King to withdraw. The
sickness increased on me during the day, and by noon I was prostrate,
neither taking interest in anything, nor allowing others, who began to
fear for my life, to divert their attention. After twenty-four hours I
began to mend, but still several days elapsed before I was able to
devote myself to business; and then I found that, the master-mind being
absent, and the King, as always, lukewarm in the pursuit, nothing had
been done to detect and punish the criminal.
I could not rest easy, however, with so abominable a suspicion
attaching to my house; and as soon as I could bend my mind to the
matter I began an inquiry. At the first stage, however, I came to an
IMPASSE; the butler, who had been long in my service, cleared himself
without difficulty, but a few questions discovered the fact that a
person who had been in his department on the evening in question was
now to seek, having indeed disappeared from that time. This was the
gipsy-girl, whom La Trape had mentioned, and whose presence in my
household seemed to need the more elucidation the farther I pushed the
inquiry. In the end I had the butler punished, but though my agents
sought the girl through Paris, and even traced her to Meaux, she was
never discovered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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