Scaramouche by Rafael Sabatini Page B

cushion, was that which his highness occupied at his plain writing-table. For the rest, a chestnut press against one wall, some plain chairs of oak or elm set about a table of polished pine, made up the room's equipment. There was no carpet on the floor. The window by which his highness's table was set looked out upon a desolate and untidy garden.
In attendance upon him now were the young and delicate d'Avaray, who was virtually his first minister of State; the tall, dry, capable Baron de Flachslanden, his minister for Foreign Affairs; the dark, restless d'Entragues, most active and zealous of secret agents and most accomplished libertine; the Comte de Jaucourt, who still performed the daily miracle of an irreproachable elegance of apparel and who preserved the nimbus of romance which his gallantries had earned him; the short, stocky self-sufficient Comte de Plougastel; and, lastly, Monsieur de Kercadiou.
It was to Monsieur de Kercadiou that his highness was now particularly addressing himself, whilst really speaking to them all.
Monsieur de Kercadiou, not without some hesitation, had suggested the possibility of his early retirement from the inconsiderable duties which his highness graciously permitted him to discharge.
His niece was about to marry Monsieur Moreau, who, to support her, would open an academy of arms in Dresden. Monsieur de Kercadiou was offered a home with them, and as his resources were dwindling and the prospects of a return to France were now remote, he did not think that he could in prudence or in justice oppose the plan of the young people.
Dark grew the Prince's fleshly countenance as he listened. The handsome liquid eyes considered the Bréton gentleman in surprise and displeasure.
"Prudence and justice, eh?" He smiled between wistfulness and scorn. "Frankly, monsieur, I perceive neither the one nor the other." He paused there a moment, and then abruptly asked: "What is this man Moreau?"
"He is my godson, monseigneur."
Monsieur clucked impatiently. "Yes, yes. That we know, as also that he was a revolutionary, one of the gentlemen responsible for the present ruin. But what else is he?"
"What else? Why, by profession, originally a lawyer. He was educated at Louis-le-Grand."
Monsieur nodded. "I understand. You evade my question. The answer being really that he is nobody's son. Yet you do not hesitate to permit your niece, a person of birth and distinction, to enter into this mésalliance."
"I do, not," said Monsieur de Kercadiou dryly. In reality, although he concealed it, since it was a sentiment impossible to display to royalty, he was moved to indignation.
"You do not?" The thick black brows were raised. The fine eyes opened a little wider in astonishment. Monsieur looked at his gentlemen: at Monsieur d'Avaray leaning on the window-sill beside him, at the other four who made a group by the table in mid-chamber. His expression clearly invited them to share his amazement.
Monsieur de Plougastel was heard to utter a short soft laugh.
"Your highness forgets the debt under which I lie to Monsieur Moreau," said the Lord of Gavrillac in an attempt to defend at once himself and his godson. He stood immediately before the Regent's writing-table, with a deepened colour in his pink, pockmarked face, a troubled look in his pale eyes.
Monsieur was sententious. "No debt in the world between yourself and Monsieur Moreau can demand payment in such coin."
"But the young people love each other," Monsieur de Kercadiou protested.
Monsieur displayed his irritation in a frown. Again he replied sententiously.
"A young maid's fancy is easily captivated. It is the duty of her natural guardians to shield her from the consequences of a passing exaltation."
"I cannot so regard her sentiments, monseigneur."
His highness considered, then set himself to reason. As a raisonneur he held himself in high esteem.
"I can understand that you should be deceived by our unhappy circumstances, circumstances which, unless we are vigilant, may