The Refugees

her audacity, her lack of all restraint when thwarted or opposed. She was capable of making a hideous scandal, of turning against him that bitter tongue which had so often made him laugh at the

sition which was so dear to her. She spoke of her wrongs. What were her wrongs? In his intense selfishness, nurtured by the eternal flattery which was the very air he breathed, he could not see that the fifteen years of her life which he had absorbed, or the loss of the husband whom he had supplanted, gave her any cla

ht to demand it of him. On the whole, his conscience acquitted him. But in this one matter he had been lax. From the first coming of his gentle and forgiving young wife from Spain, he had never once permitted her to be without a rival. Now that she was dead, the matter was no better. One favourite had succeeded another, and if De Montespan had held her own so long, it was rather from her audacity tha

and had found himself consulting her upon points of conduct, and acting upon her advice with a docility which he had never shown before to minister or mistress. For a time he had thought that her piety and her talk of principle might be a mere mask, for he was accustomed to hypocrisy all round him. It was surely unlikely that a woman who was still beautiful, with as bright an eye and as graceful a figure as any in his court, could, after a life spent in the gayest circles, preserve the spirit of a nun. But on this point he was soon undeceived, for when his own language had become warmer than that of friendship, he had been met by an iciness of manner and a brevity of speech which had shown him that there

wayed strongly over to that side, and when he was tempted to fall back into his old life. But Bossuet and Pere la Chaise were ever at his elbows to whisper encouragement, and, above all, there was Madame de Maintenon to remind him of what was due to his position and to his six-and-forty years. Now at last he had braced himself for a supreme effort. There was no safety fo

the king had taken to religion. Yet they looked very bored, these soldiers and seigneurs, yawning and blinking over the missals, while some who seemed more intent upon their devotions were really dipping into the latest romance of Scudery or Calpernedi, cunningly bound up in a sombre cover. The ladies, indeed, were more devout, and were determined that all should see it, for each had lit a tiny taper, which she held in front of her on the plea of l

t two or three—a Parisian, who conceived himself injured by the provost of his guild, a peasant whose cow had been torn by a huntsman’s dog, and a farmer who had had hard usage from his feudal lord. A few questions and then a hurried order to his secretary disposed of each case, for if Louis was a tyrant himself, he had at le

ire, justic

d Louis. “Who are you, and

Paris, and I have b

have indeed been wronged you shall have

Captain Dalbert at their head. They have devoured my food, stolen my prope

tered in a strange fashion in our city o

shameful case,

ise. “I would suggest that your Majesty should ask this man his name, h

reverend fathe

merchant in cloth, and I am treated in this

much!” cried

matters,” s

arkened. “You have only yourself to th

how,

ng the only

y a member o

olent heretic,” said he. “There is but one Church in France, and that

my father, sire, an

why you should. My own grandfather er

d for his error,” m

ill not hel

first help

the king continued on his way, the two ecclesiastics, on

done nob

the first son

orthy successo

a man who was not absolutely

that these people have to

ur Majesty errs on

re leaving my kingd

blessing can come upon a country which has s

arked Bossuet. “Your Majesty’s power would be greater if there were

n. They are shielded, as you well know,

ajesty to undo the misch

d h

lling th

, father, I have, I trust, every zeal for Mother–Church, but there is some truth in what De Frontenac said this m

best workers and traders in your Majesty’s kingdom. I know not how the state coffers are to be filled if such tax-payers go from among u

ed that even the worst of his subjects bear him such love that they would hasten to come within the pale of Holy Chu

“They have always been

the bishops of France to make an offering to the state of the trea

is at the king’s service,

red the Grand Salon, in which the court assembled after chapel, “yet I tr

ire,” echoed th

new wing at Marly.” He crossed to a side table, and was buried in an instant in his favourite pursuit, i

Bossuet aside, “that your Grace has ma

werful assist

t I shall lose no opportunity

it in hand,

other who has mo

rite, De M

is gone. It is Ma

t she is ve

s a Sulpitian. Yet we may all work to one end.

all my

would be could she bring about t

all d

will promote—” he bent forward an

would no

The quee

of the po

Her grandfather and h

impos

heart, and I say

ather, if any can. But such a th

will serve the Church, the Church will ser

courtiers, and the great Bishop of Meaux remained stan

men had vied with the women in the costliness and brilliancy of their wardrobes. And if dresses had changed, manners had done so even more. The old levity and the old passions lay doubtless very near the surface, but grave faces and serious talk were the fashion of the hour. It was no longer the lucky coup at the lansquenet table, the last comedy of Moliere, or the new opera of Lully about which they gossiped, but it was on the evils of Jansenism, on the expulsion of Arnauld from the Sorbonne, on the insolence of Pascal, or on th