KING'5 PLEASURE DOWNING COOLIDGE AT THE KING'S PLEASURE UNIV. OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES 'Mademoiselle" AT THE KING'S PLEASURE By EMMA DOWNING COOLIDGE ILLUSTRATED BY ROLAND S. STEBBINS BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY EMMA DOWNING COOLIDGE All rights reserved To My Mother 2126203 Preface In the following romance I confess that I have exercised an author 's privilege in sacri- ficing some details of history to the demands of more interesting fiction. Perhaps it would be better to say that I have created certain persons of title that the glamour of their rank might serve to enhance the setting of the story. The majority of the characters are entirely the product of fancy and pleasure. The hero, to whom I have given the title of Francis, Comte of Angouleme, a man of about thirty years of age at the time of Louis XII 's accession, was not the heir to the throne. The Francis of Angouleme who became King as Francis I, at the death of Louis in 1515, was only four years old in 1498. E. D. C. Contents Page Chapter I After Many Years 1 Chapter II The Magic of a Song ... 20 Chapter III The Wandering Jester ... 48 Chapter IV The Summons 65 Chapter V The Searchers and What They Found 77 Chapter VI The Meeting 86 Chapter VII A Question of Honor .... 101 Chapter VIII The Journey's End 112 Chapter IX The Mystery of Le Capi- taine 127 Chapter X An Enchanted Garden.... 138 Chapter XI The Crisis 156 Chapter XII Surrender 171 Chapter XIII A Dream of Spain 186 Chapter XIV All Roads Lead To The King 202 Chapter XV At the King's Pleasure... 219 Chapter XVI Night and Song and Love 236 Illustrations Page 'Mademoiselle" Frontispiece "Have a care, fellow, else we relieve you of your disguise and show you to be a bigger fool than even the motley proves you" 64 "It is my heart, Mademoiselle, I have sung it to you " 143 "Thou art right," she whispered, "and I love theefor it". , 228 CHAPTER I After Many Years Darkness was closing in upon Paris and upon the palace of King Louis XII of France. Silence lay upon the city, but it was the brooding silence which signifies passions slum- bering and which prophesies a terrible awaken- ing. Murmurings and discontent had been in the speech of men for many days, and Louis knew only too well of the mutterings which came from his people. Couriers and officers in His Majesty's service had been traveling for weeks on errands of state. Through all the city and even into the provinces the reconnoitering extended. At the palace nobles discussed the situation in whispers, the while with watchful glances they observed their neighbors. On this day messengers had been hurrying to and fro for hours, yet none amongst the courtiers seemed aware of the true import of the King's activity. That as yet no crisis had been reached was evidenced by the fact that the grand assembly 1 2 At the King's Pleasure a nightly occurrence was to convene as usual. The only proof of uneasiness was shown by the unprecedented gathering of courtiers in the throne-room fully an hour before the King's entrance would open formally the evening's fete. At least a dozen nobles clothed in court attire had assembled, and although the usual merriment seemed absent from the company, still no strange or sudden silences had marked the conversation. It was truly a beautiful scene in the throne- room. The richness and grandeur of furnish- ings of gold and white, the sparkle of mirrors, the gleam of lights whose crystal coverings shone as jewels, all were in accord with the bright-colored garb of men and women in evening dress. Men were resplendent in attire and head-dress. Long silken capes and full breeches, satin slippers buckled with jewels, and hose of gorgeous hues displayed their pride; but more than all, the white pow- dered curls which graced their stately heads were worthy of attention. Women in long silken robes fastened high at the waist, with sleeves hanging full and loose, displaying the beauty of wrist and shoulder, rivalled the nobles in charm of raiment. Jewels gleamed in hair piled high, and sparkled on throat or fingers as well as upon the fancy slippers. Yet all this was a picture common to the court After Many Years 3 and so tonight no second glance was cast by any beholder. Weightier matters absorbed all attention, and the hum of low-pitched voices, with now and then a chiming laugh or a deeper manly note, filled all the room. Meanwhile, in her apartment, forgetful of all but her own unhappiness, the Prin- cess Helene cousin to His Most Gracious Majesty King Louis XII of France looked out of her window and over the deserted gardens to the great wall which surrounded the castle precincts. The darkness settling down upon Paris held yet a few glimmers of sunset light which played upon the battle- ments of the palace. The Princess smiled sadly, and wondered if darkness were clos- ing around about her also and destroying the last vague hopes which she had cherished. It was time for her to prepare for the evening 's assembly, but until long after the last vestige of light had left the grim stone towers she sat at her window and pondered. Only a few hours before a messenger had come to her from the King, requesting audience that night after the assembly, and while she could not know the meaning of the summons her heart was troubled with doubts and perplexity. She realized that her happiness was in the balance, and, realizing it, her woman's desire battled with her princess's pride. 4 At the King's Pleasure She was still far from solving her problem when the door was opened almost noiselessly, and the rustling of a woman's draperies caused her to turn. "Marguerite!" cried the Princess, softly and gladly. In her tone was the love of one who knew and trusted. "Your Highness does not send me away?" queried the other, gently. "I dared to intrude despite the orders given your ladies-in-wait- ing." "And I am glad, Marguerite, that thou hast come to me." The girl came to her side and looked down into the great saddened eyes. Instantly her jesting manner changed to one of concern. : 'Your Highness is troubled," she said anxiously, and her voice thrilled with tender sympathy. "Helene, tell me, what has hap- pened to oppress thee?" The Princess put her hand upon the girl's shoulder and drew her down. Gently the maid-of-honor sank to her knees beside her. It was plain that here no thought of rank had forbidden friendship, for between these two existed the love and faith which made con- fidences possible. "Look, my friend," cried Helene in sorrow, as she thrust a parchment into Marguerite's hands, "a summons from His Majesty!" After Many Years 5 As Marguerite read her kindly eyes became grave. "Dost think, then, that it is ill?" she questioned. "Mayhap 'tis of myself she faltered, but her tone belied the hope she offered. "Nay, Marguerite, 'tis not of thee that he would question me. I fear Lord D'Antaur- ier ' she also faltered, then cried passion- ately, "ah, has it not been plain, my friend? Could any doubt his love for me? Could any question that I have been exceeding kind to him? The King saw and sent him on a mission. Not yet has he returned, and I fear she choked with her half-spoken terror "Ah, Marguerite, for days this fear has haunted me, and when the summons came I could no longer drive the horror from me. He will not return. Death awaits him on the highway. Assassins of the King will take him from me. Ah, it is simple when rank forbids!" "Nay, nay, Princess!" cried Marguerite, aghast. "Surely not that, Helene. He will return in all safety to thee . " "But this," interrupted Helene, tapping the parchment. "Ah, no! The King knows our secret. He will drag it from me tonight, and then, given excuse for him a death sentence or imprisonment if he returns at all." 6 At the King's Pleasure "Thou lovest him!" exclaimed Marguerite, with conviction. The Princess shrugged her shoulders half mockingly. "What wouldst thou?" she de- manded, but her eyes were brimming with tears. "Does he know?" asked the other gently. "Lord D'Antaurier? Nay. Nay." "Thou art wrong, Helene, if thou lovest him, not to admit thy love," rebuked her friend. "I am a princess," Helene returned with hauteur, "he a noble." "And a man," added the lady-in-waiting softly, then she laughed derisively, "which is indeed a rarity at court." "What meanest thou?" "That now is thy moment of power, Prin- cess. Demand the right to love as love thou dost. Demand of thy King his consent to thy marriage to Lord D'Antaurier. Do not risk delay. Answer my lord as fearlessly and bravely as though thou wert a peasant woman instead of a princess. Thou hast yet a few hours. Use them for thy great happiness. I do not doubt me that at ten tonight the King will command thee to wed the Prince, and then 'twill be too late. See, it is six by the clock now. Three glorious hours are thine, when thou enterest the assembly. Ah, After Many Years 7 Helene, listen to me. Yield thy pride to thy love. Thou wouldst indeed be sorry to wed Francis, Comte of Angouleme. Yet that is what thou must do unless thou shalt yield tonight to thy woman's heart. Hear me, dear, before it is too late. I have suffered from false pride, not only in my girlhood days, but much more since exile sent me into Spain, and I can well advise thee for thy happiness. " "What knowest thou of love and of a woman 's pride?" asked the Princess almost coldly as she arose and left her window-seat. Her eyes, however, watched in fascination her companion. Marguerite also arose and went to the window from which she seemed to be looking. Her face was sad with a strange pathos, and her voice when she spoke vibrated with intense feeling. Seeing this, the Princess learned for the first time those hidden secrets which held a sorrow deeper than she had ever known could exist, and she knew that here was a sadness whose depth she could never fathom. "What knowest thou of love?" Marguerite repeated softly, and she faced her friend. "Only such as all women learn who love and forfeit happiness, Your Highness. Once, not many years ago, I learned the meaning of that wondrous word and then because the 8 At the King's Pleasure man who loved me changed his views on certain subjects, I allowed my pride of noble birth to send him from me. I silenced his protests, disdained his reverence, sacrificed my own love. Not long afterward my father and I were exiled to Spain, and Victor de Belleamie did not even know that I had left the Province of Montarson. He was in Paris, I in Spain. Since the day I scorned him I have never seen him." She came slowly toward the Princess. "I ask Your Highness if this sacrifice has paid. Do I love him less? Nay more. Do I despise him because he no longer serves the King? Nay, he is Victor, and I love him." "He serves Le Capitaine?" the Princess questioned fearfully. " I know not. He serves the King 's denoun- cers. I know no more." "Thou hast not forgotten him? Do none here at court make thee forget his face?" "Princess, thou sayest thou knowest love. None can take his place. And soon thou wilt learn that none can take the place of him thou lovest. I pray thy knowledge may not come too late, as did mine. " " What wouldst thou have me do? Remem- ber I am a princess. " "And a woman! with a woman's contrari- ness and her helplessness. Yet thou hast After Many Years 9 managed to keep trace of Lord D'Antaurier, and await his return with eager anxiety. Mes- sengers are on the lookout daily for his arrival, and they are of the Princess's choosing, not of the King's." "How knowest thou this?" exclaimed the Princess with chagrin. Marguerite only smiled wistfully. "I be- lieve, Helene, that he will come tonight, and thou must be ready to receive him. Come, put thyself in my hands, and let me wield thy future in this hour. Wear thy gown of white, and around thy throat thy collarette of pearls. In thy hair a rose but one a full blown, red, red rose, the token of thy love. Then wilt thou be beautiful in thy simplicity. Smile upon him when he comes, not merrily nor mockingly, but wistfully as now. Let thine heart speak, Helene, and bring joy to thee as well as to him." Eagerly the Princess had listened to her words. Pride had fled from her face, leaving it tenderly sweet and wistful. "I yield me, Marguerite," she said tear- fully. "Do with me as thou wilt. I love him." In the throne-room affairs of state were still being discussed. Suddenly above the murmuring of many voices there came the 10 At the King 's Pleasure announcement of a page as he held aside the drapery for a noble to enter, and at the men- tion of his name many turned to observe the newcomer. One of the nobles who had been a silent listener in a group of officers, a man between fifty and sixty years of age, made his way quickly to meet this courtier and fellow- soldier just entering, and extended his hand in cordial welcome. "Ah, my Lord DeChatton, I give you greeting! It is some time since I have had that honor here at court. " "True, Monsieur Beaumon, " responded the other in a full, deep voice which was pleasing to the ear. 'Tonight for the first time in many months I have come to the assembly. To be sure, I have not all that time been absent from Paris, but only yester- day I returned from Montarson. " "Montarson." M. Beaumon repeated the name dreamily and sadly. "That name, Monsieur, holds many memories for us both. Is there, then, news from the Province?" "Very little, Monsieur," was DeChatton 's sorrowful reply. "Gloom and despair seem to have settled down upon our once happy valley. Those whom we knew and loved best no longer dwell there, but are wandering none knows where. Those remaining have After Many Years 11 sunken into the calm which proclaims unhap- piness and the death of hope. Since the tur- moil which ended in exile to Spain for so many of our people, little of moment has befallen the Province. You have no doubt heard much of that history and of the desola- tion which filled all our valley at that time." "Ah, yes, my lord, of that and of many other events, which, because they preceded this, have become insignificant in comparison to all but a few people. Though it is now many years since I have been to Montarson, as you know, still I live much in its past. I know that Victor is no longer in the province " he broke off abruptly, and then continued as if remembering the presence of others "surely there has come some word from the Marquis de Belleamie since he left Montar- son?" "Nay, Monsieur, there has come no mes- sage, " returned DeChatton, sadly. "It seems unreal to me the events of the past few years. It seems but yesterday that we daily were guests at the chateau of his father, and that we were instructing Victor in the arts of riding and of sword-play." Monsieur Beaumon nodded but did not speak. "Yet I was never as were you to the lad," continued DeChatton, "and thus I have often 12 At the King's Pleasure marveled at his sudden departure from the Province, and even more at his change of views. Never had the King more loyal subject than the elder Marquis, and so it is the stranger that his son, instilled through youth with admiration for royalty, should have forsaken his father's party to join with the rabble of Paris headed by Le Capitaine. " "Yet, my lord," interposed M. Beaumon, "this same party which you term 'rabble' is composed of many of those whose houses trace back to royal blood, and who in bygone centuries served at their sovereign's throne." At this remark significant glances and nods of acquiescence were exchanged by several courtiers. During the pause which ensued, an officer of the guard, accompanying a woman gowned in evening dress of black velvet, entered the assembly, and they made their way to one of the groups near the speakers. Neither of the latter gentlemen appeared to notice their arrival, yet they were greeted by gravely polite bows from all nobles, as befitted one who held the honored position of maid-of-honor to the Princess Helene. Presently DeChatton aroused from the deep reverie in which he had been sunk, and adcLressed his friend in a meditative manner. "This calls to my mind vague rumors which have come to us from Spain. They concern the Marquis de Bonnavite. " After Many Years 13 M. Beaumon nodded as he made answer. "He it was who served so well in wars of France when King Louis was only Due of Orleans, and who returned to Montarson to wed the maid-of -honor to the queen." DeChatton cast a keen glance upon the other. "A maiden renowned for wit and beauty through all the realm even as was her daughter after her before exile became her lot," added he, softly. M. Beaumon paled and his hand clenched nervously upon his scabbard. ''You have news of them, the Marquis and his daughter?" His voice sounded harsh and dry as from great emotion. "Rumors only, but rumors which may prove too true. It is said that the Marquis succumbed to his long journey and died short- ly after reaching Spain. The girl, thus left alone, took refuge with friends among exiles; but her lot must be a sad and dreary one. Courted, feted, wooed, and worshipped as she was in their chateau at Montarson, her present plight is doubly hard to think upon. It would seem, M. Beaumon, that cruel fortune has turned a cheerless back upon the two whom we most greatly loved. The maid, a wanderer in a strange land, the youth no less so, and lost to us so far as word can bring us hope. Methinks, too, that the friendship 14 At the King's Pleasure which once did exist between them has been rudely shattered. Formerly I did dream that love for the other would spring up in each heart; but even though it may have, he left in coldness for the duties of Paris, and I doubt if he even knows that she is an exile in Spain. Sometimes, my friend, I feel that we shall never again look upon either of these children. But there is something of which I would speak to you. I would not press your confidence, M. Beaumon, but, as you know, I love the young Marquis, and I would like to learn the cause of his sudden departure to Paris and of his change in opinions. I realize that you who are acquainted with his every mood must have guessed this riddle. I would that you could trust me enough to explain his demean- or. He was ever grave and thoughtful, wise beyond his years, not given to wine and merrymaking, neither was he easily influenced. No passing fancy, therefore, led him to desert the royal cause, but some more worthy motive which was not the quick growth of idle words spoken by some enthusiast. " M. Beaumon, who had been eyeing his companion steadily, made grave reply. ' You are right, Lord DeChatton, Victor de Belle- amie grew from a studious, thoughtful youth to a more serious, thoughtful manhood. His mind dwelt upon things which are not often After Many Years 15 in the minds of lads just entering the merry heyday of gallants. But in all his life there was a deeper note, a desire for good, a yearn- ing for truth, and a seeking for wisdom. Around him were companions whose desires turned upon wine and carousal, and these accompanied by vice in all its evil forms. He saw the shallowness of such a life as portrayed by those young nobles of the court who had respect for no one, either man or woman far less for the latter, God knows! nor even for the King himself. Chivalry was to him a virtue inherent, not acquired. Woman meant for him the shrine where all true men should worship. Courage sustained conviction. Truth defended honor, and honor was the one firm principle of his great man- hood." The noble delivered his words, a torrent of eloquence, to all his hearers. Then he turned to his audience, and with hand extended in partial appeal and in partial censure, ad- dressed them: "You know whereof I speak you who have dwelt in courts of kings for many days. Does peace lie within its realm? Truth, say you? Bah! Courage?" he shrugged his shoulders " the courage which is worse than cowardice. Sincerity? You trust few of your fellow-courtiers and rightly so. Fidelity? 16 At the King's Pleasure Ah, you smile ! And lastly honor, then? You blush with shame, and your eyes speak knowl- edge of the court. Few among us know the meaning of the word. " jMany of the women, whose faces had crimsoned beneath his scornful charge, turned haughtily away; and men could not meet one another's gaze. "And that, Friend DeChatton, is the answer to your question. Not here in service of his King could Victor find the sum of his ideals. There was the other course, and the only one. He took it, and therein do I honor him." There was a silence of shamed acknowledge- ment of the speaker's home truths, then she who wore the black velvet robe stepped out of the group surrounding and impulsively ap- proached the noblemen. "My Lord Beaumon, you speak harshly of your court and of your noblemen and women, yet we must admit the truth of your stern words, though to our great shame and unhappi- ness, be it said. This man of whom you speak -Victor de Belleamie is not unknown to us at court even though he scorned to join the throng of nobles as was his right by birth. Yet there are some who do not judge him ill on that account. Nay, mayhap, we also honor him, for even here, my lord, corrupt and poor as After Many Years 17 you may esteem us, there are some who love those virtues which you believe are foreign to our court." DeChatton had turned aside when the noblewoman had approached M. Beaumon, but at the first sound of her melodious voice he faced about in eager questioning. At sight of her his lips parted, and he made a step toward her as if to address her. Then, realizing the situation, he again turned away and went to the balcony window behind all courtiers, whence, unobserved, he could watch this woman whom he had recognized. M. Beaumon stared in confusion at the beautiful woman before him whose plea had touched a tender chord. He took a quick step toward her, fascinated by the expression in her countenance. "My lady, I crave your pardon for my harsh words, and for the lack of faith I have displayed. One needs only to look upon such women of our realm to know that all nobility has not succumbed to the corruption of a pleasure-seeking court. " Her face softened and she held out her hand to him. He made as though to kiss it, but she restrained him. "Nay, my Lord Beau- mon, I wish to shake your hand in friendship, and I would question you concerning the Province of Montarson if you will permit." 18 At the King's Pleasure " Gladly ! " The nobleman proffered his arm which the woman graciously accepted, and they went slowly toward the balcony window where they could converse unheard. "It is evident, Monsieur Beaumon, " the clear contralto voice continued before he could speak, "that you have forgotten me. And yet, not many years ago, you did declare that you would know me anywhere and under any circumstance. Look upon me well. Come, have I so changed that Victor's playmate is unknown to you?" "Marguerite!" cried the courtier bewilder- edly, and tears of joyful recognition sprang to his kindly eyes. The maid-of -honor laughed delightedly, and clasped her hands tightly over his. Then once more she heard her name and she turned in surprise. A moment she looked fixedly at the man beside her, then her face lighted, and with a cry of gladness she held out her hands to him. 'My Lord DeChatton!" "Marguerite!" was all he could reply. "Marguerite, yes," she said in a low tone, "but not Bonnavite. Only the Princess Hel- ene knows my true name. I rest in her protection. After the death of my father, the rumor of which has reached you as I heard you say but now, I returned from Spain After Many Years 19 and gained admission to the palace and to Princess Helene in the garb of a nun. As I had hoped when I had told her my history, she took me under her protection, made me her maid-of-honor, and introduced me as Marguerite Montarson. The King last of all must learn the truth. I trust in your discre- tion. But tonight when I saw you, Monsieur Beaumon, and heard you mention Victor's name, I could not conquer my desire to make myself known to you. Tell me, then, of Victor and of my home. I am hungry for the news. "