The Strangled Queen (16 page)

He had no
t even noticed that Guccio had
taken with him the moneychests which less the expenses of the expedition
and the
cardinal's bonus, contained the remainder of the Bardi gold; thus, whatever happened, the Tolomei bank would make sure of
its
commission.

Not that this prevented Guccio also
from having
a certain feeling of emotion upon leaving fat Bouville, since in people who are well endowed, t
o conduct business the sense of
personal interest never obliterates sentiment.

Upon entering the Palace, Bouville became aware of a number, of things, that displeased
him. The servants upon his path
appeared to have lost the precision of discipline he had imposed upon them in King Philip's, time, that air of deference and ceremony, present in their least gesture, which manifested the honour they felt in belonging; to the royal household. There had,
been
a lowering of standards.

But when
the late Great Chamberlain found himself in the
presence of Louis he lost his critical
faculty; he was in the presence of the King and thou
ght of nothing but bowing suffi
ciently low.

"Well, Bouville," said The Hutin, giving him the curtest of welcomes, somewhat to the fat man's distress, "how is Madame of Hungary' "

"Most formidable, Sire; she frightened me. But she has astonishing intelligence for her age."

"What's her appearance like, her looks?"

"Most majestic, Sire, though her teeth have all gone."

,

The Hutin's face expressed horror. Charles of Valois, who
was
standing beside his nephew, burst out laughing.

"My dear Bouville," he cried, "the King is not asking you about Queen Marie, but about Madame Clemence."

"Oh, I beg your pardon, Sire!" said Bouville, blushing. "Madame Clemence? But I will show her to you."

"What?
You don't mean to tell me you've brought her back with you?"

"No, Sire, merely her portrait."

And he had Oderisi's portrait brought in and placed upon a
table.
The two shutters which protected the portrait were opened; candles were brought near.

Louis went slowly, cautiously, towards it as if towards something dangerous which might explode in his face. Then he smiled and looked at his uncle, his expression happy.

"It's a beautiful country, Sire, if you only knew it," said Bouville, seeing Naples depicted once more upon the two shutters.

"Well, Nephew, have I deceived you?" cried Valois. "Look at that complexion, that honey-coloured hair, that noble pose! Look at her throat, Nephew, what an exquisitely feminine throat!

He praised, his niece as a horse-coper his wares at a fair.

"And I must tell the King," added Bouville, "that Madame Clemence is still more beautiful in the flesh than she is upon canvas."

Louis fell silent; he seemed to have forgotten the presence of the other two. Head thrust forward, shoulders stooping, he was absorbed in a curious tete-a-tete wi
th the portrait. In Clemence's
eyes he recognised a certain affinity with Eudeline's expression, a sort of patient dreaming, a serene kindliness; even their colouring was not without a certain resemblance. There was an Eudeline,, but ho
rn of kings, about to become a
queen. , For a moment Louis tried, in his imagination, to superimpose upon the portrait the face of Marguerite, her wide full forehe
ad, her dark hair curling about
it, her olive skin, her eyes that so easily turned hostile. And then that other face disappeared and Clemence's remained triumphant in its calm beauty, and Louis felt certain that beside this fair princess he need fear no bodily impotence,

"Oh, she is beautiful, really beautiful!" he said at last. "I am very grateful to you, Uncle. Bouville, I give you two hundred pounds per annum from the Treasury as a token of gratitude for your embassy."

"Oh, sire," murmured Bouville gratefully, "I have been sufficiently rewarded by the mere honour of serving you well."

"And so now we are affianced," went on The Hutin. "It only remains for me to
get unmarried; we are affianced
..."

He walked up and down in agitation.

"Yes, Sire," said Bouville, "provided you are free of your present wife before summer."

"I have every intention of being so! But who has made that condition? "

"Queen Marie, Sire. She has other offers for Madame Clemence, and though yours is undoubtedly the most important and the most desirable, she does not wish to commit herself further than that."

The Hutin's expression, grew sombre and Bouville thought that his pension of two hundred pounds was on the point of disappearing. But the King' had turned questioningly to Valois, who looked astonished.

Valois,
during Bouville's absence and
unknown to him, had been in postal contact with, Naples by courier
, and he had assured his nephew
that his engagement was in process of, being definitely concluded without any time-limit.

"Is this a condition that Madame of Hungary made at the last moment? " he asked Bouville.

"Yes, Monseigneur."

"She only said it to make us hurry and give herself importance. If by any chance, though I think it unlikely, the annulment took longer, Madame of Hungary would most certainly prove patient."

"I cannot tell, Monseigneur; she made the condition in a firm, decided manner."

Valois felt a certain uneasiness, and tapped the arm of his chair with his fingers.

"Before summer," murmured Louis, "before summer ... and what point has the conclave reached?"

Bouville then gave an account of his peregrinations ab
out the district of Avignon, try
ing not to cut too ridiculous a figure. He did not mention how he had succeeded in meeting Cardinal Dueze. He equally forbore to mention Marigny's activities; he felt a certain repugnance about accusing his oldest friend, and accusing him wrongly moreover. For Bouville admired Marigny, feared him too, and knew that he p
ossessed political perceptions
, that he himself was utterly incapable of grasping. "If he is acting thus, it is because he has good reason to do so," he thought. "I must not risk judging him wrongly." He contented himself with underlining the fact that the Pope's election depended above all upon the wishes of the Rector of the kingdom.

Louis X listened with the greatest attention, his eyes fixed upon Clemence's portrait..

"Dueze, yes," he said. "Why not Dueze? He is prepared to give me my annulment at once. He lacks four
French votes. So you assure me,
Bouville, that only Marigny can arrange matters and provide me with a Pope?"

"It is my firm belief, Sire."

The Hutin went
slowly towards the table where lay the parchment his brother had given him containing the Commission's findings. He took up a goose-quill and dipped it in the ink.

Charles of Valois's face turned pale.

"Nephew,"' he cried, leaping
forward, "you are not going to
exonerate the rogue' "

"In spite of you, Uncle, there; are those who affirm his accounts to be honest. Six of the lords appointed to make the examination are of that opinion; only your chancellor shares yours."

"Nephew, I implore you to wait. The man is deceiving us as he deceived your father," cried Valois.

Bouville wished that he were not present.

Louis gazed at his uncle with stubborn, malicious eyes.

"I have told you that I need a Pope," he said. "And since my
lords assure me that Marigny is honest ..."

As the other was about to make further objections, Louis rose
to his feet and with great authority in his voice, but a certain
failure of memory, said, "The King belongs to justice
, in order to ... in order to...
in order to see that it triumphs."

And he signed the exoneration. Thus it was due to his disloyalty towards the King, if not to France, over the matter of the conclave, that Marigny owed the fact that his fidelity in financial
administration was recognized.

Valois lef
t the room, wild with, anger he
could no longer have kept under control. "I would have done better," he thought, "to find hi
m some girl twisted of body and
hideous of face. He would be in no such hurry then. I've been tricked."

Louis X turned to Bouville.

"Messire
Hugues," he said, "let Messire
de Marigny; be summoned at once."

8. A
Letter's Fate

A GUST of wind smote
the
narrow window, and Marguerite of Burgundy drew hastily back, as if the far heavens wished to strike

Day was breaking uncertainly over the forest of Andelys. It was the hour when the first guard was mounted upon the battlements of Chateau-Gaillard. Nothing in the world can he more melancholy than some mornings of high wind in Normandy, when huge black clouds drive in from the west, bearing with them the promise of heavy rain. The tops of the trees a
re bowed like the curved spines
of, frightened, fleeing horses.

Sergeant Lalaine came to unlock the door half-way up the stair
case, which isolated the cells
of the two Princesses; and Private Gros-Guillaume deposited two wooden bowls of steaming gruel upon the sto
ols He went out again, dragging his feet
and without a word.

"Blanche!
" called Marguerite, going to the spiral staircase.

There was no answer.

"Blanche!
" she cried again more loudly.

The silence that followed filled her with despair. At last there was a rustling of a skirt in the staircase, and the sound of wooden clogs upon the steps. Blanche came in, staggering, worn out; in the room's grey light her clear eyes seemed fixed in that expression of absent concentration which is common to the eyes of the mad.

"Have you been able to sleep a lit
tle?" Marguerite asked.

Blanche did not reply but, going to the jug of water that stood near the bowls, she knelt and tipping the, jug to her mouth, drank
a long draught. For some time now she had performed the ordinary
acts of living eccentrically.
None of Bersumees furniture remained in the room. The Captain of the Fortress; had taken it all back as soon, as, two months before, he had received, by means of a somewhat bullying visit from Alain de Pareilles, Marigny's order to keep to his original, instructions. Gone was the worn tapestry that had been hung upon the walls for the pleasure and in honour of Monseigneur of Artois; gone was the table from which the imprisoned Queen had eaten in her cousin's presence. A pal
let, its mattress stuffed with
husks
of dried peas
had replaced the bed.

But, since Marigny had let it be known that he was concerned for the survival of Madame Marguerite, Bersurnee took care that the fire was kept alight, the blankets sufficiently warm and the food adequate at least in quantity.

The two women sat down side by side upon the pallet, their bowls upon their knees.

Blanche, making no use of her spoon, lapped up the buckwheat gruel straight from the bowl like a dog. Marguerite did not eat at all. She was warming her hands round the wooden bowl; this was the only good moment of her day, the last sensual pleasure that remained to her in her prison. She,, closed her eyes, utterly concentrated upon the miserable satisfaction of getting a little warmth into the .palms of her hands.

Suddenly Blanche rose to her fe
et and threw her bowl of gruel
across the room. The gruel spilt upon the floor where it remained, turning sour, for a week.

"What is the matter with you?" asked Marguerite.

"I shall throw myself downstairs, kill myself, and you will be
here alone, alone!"
screamed Blanche. "Why did you refuse? I can't go on, do you understand, I can't go on. We shall never get out of here, never, because you didn't consent. It's your fault, it's all your fault, from the very start. But you'll stay here alone, all alone."

She was going mad, or making herself mad, which is in itself a form of lunacy.

To prisoners hope disappointed is worse than waiting. Blanche had thought that sh
e was to go f
ree through h Robert of Artois's visit. But nothing had happened, except that the amenities their cousin's visit had obtained for them had been discontinued. From then on the change in Blanche had been terrifying. She had ceased to wash herself; she had grown thin; she alternated between moods of sudden fury and
crises
left
her
weeping which left
lone
furrows down her cheeks
-Unceasingly, she hurled
her dirty
reproac
hes at Marguerite, even accused
her of having pushed, her into the arms of
Gautier, d d'Aunay
, out of sheer viciousness, and then angrily demanded that she-should write to Paris accepting the proposal that had been made her. They had grown to hate each other.

"
All right, die then, since you have not the courage to fight
"
exclaimed Marguerite.

"Fight for whom, for what? Fight against walls ... Fight that you may be Queen? Because you still think you will be Queen,
don't you?"

"But
if I do accept, yo
u
fool, it is, I who will go free, not
y
ou!'''

"Alone alone you'll be alone!" repeated
Blanche, hearing
nothing that was said to her.