France -- History -- Regency, 1715-1723 -- Fiction; Orléans, Philippe, duc d', 1674-1723 -- Fiction
"Monsieur," said Gaston, clasping his hands, "I renounce my ideas of
assassination, I detest them, and I ask your pardon for having
entertained them; but if you will not save my friends, I beg of you at
least to let me perish with them. If I live when they die, my honor dies
with them; think of it, monseigneur, the honor of the name your daughter
is to bear."
The regent bent his head as he replied:
"It is impossible, monsieur; they have betrayed France; and they must
die."
"Then I die with them!" said Gaston, "for I also have betrayed France,
and, moreover, would have murdered your highness."
The regent looked at Dubois; the glance they exchanged did not escape
Gaston. He understood that he had dealt with a false La Jonquiere as
well as a false Duc d'Olivares.
"No," said Dubois, addressing Gaston, "you shall not die for that,
monsieur; but you must understand that there are crimes which the regent
has neither the power nor the right to pardon."
"But he pardoned me!" exclaimed Gaston.----"You are Helene's husband,"
said the duke.
"You mistake, monseigneur; I am not; and I shall never be; and as such a
sacrifice involves the death of him who makes it, I shall die,
monseigneur."
"Bah!" said Dubois, "no one dies of love nowadays; it was very well in
the time of M. d'Urfe and Mademoiselle de Scuderi."
"Perhaps you are right, monsieur; but in all times men die by the
dagger;" and Gaston stopped and picked up the knife with an expression
which was not to be mistaken. Dubois did not move.
The regent made a step.
"Throw down that weapon, monsieur," said he, with hauteur.
Gaston placed the point against his breast.
"Throw it down, I say," repeated the regent.
"The life of my friends, monseigneur," said Gaston.
The regent turned again to Dubois, who smiled a sardonic smile.
"'Tis well," said the regent, "they shall live."
"Ah! monsieur," said Gaston, seizing the duke's hand, and trying to
raise it to his lips, "you are the image of God on earth."
"Monseigneur, you commit an irreparable fault," said Dubois.
"What!" cried Gaston, astonished, "you are then--"
"The Abbe Dubois, at your service," said the false La Jonquiere, bowing.
"Oh! monseigneur, listen only to your own heart--I implore."
"Monseigneur, sign nothing," said Dubois.
"Sign! monseigneur, sign!" repeated Gaston, "you promised they should
live; and I know your promise is sacred."
"Dubois, I shall sign," said the duke.
"Has your highness decided?"
"I have given my word."
"Very well; as you please."
"At once, monseigneur, at once; I know not why, but I am alarmed in
spite of myself; monseigneur, their pardon, I implore you."
"Eh! monsieur," said Dubois, "since his highness has promised, what
signify five minutes more or less?"
The regent looked uneasily at Dubois.
"Yes, you are right," said he, "this very moment; your portfolio, abbe,
and quick, the young man is impatient."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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