_ CHAPTER XXXIII. THE HEAD OF THE TAVERNEY FAMILY
While this was passing in the Rue St. Gilles, the elder M. Taverney was walking in his garden, followed by two footmen, who carried a chair, with which they approached him every five minutes, that he might rest. While doing so, a servant came to announce the chevalier.
"My son," said the old man, "come, Philippe, you arrive apropos--my heart is full of happy thoughts; but how solemn you look!"
"Do I, sir?"
"You know already the results of that affair?"
"What affair?"
The old man looked to see that no one was listening, then said, "I speak of the ball."
"I do not understand."
"Oh, the ball at the Opera."
Philippe colored.
"Sit down," continued his father; "I want to talk to you. It seems that you, so timid and delicate at first, now compromise her too much."
"Whom do you mean, sir?"
"Pardieu! do you think I am ignorant of your escapade, both together at the Opera ball? It was pretty."
"Sir, I protest----"
"Oh, do not be angry; I only mean to warn you for your good. You are not careful enough; you were seen there with her."
"I was seen?"
"Pardieu! had you, or not, a blue domino?"
Philippe was about to explain that he had not, and did not know what his father meant, but he thought to himself, "It is of no use to explain to him; he never believes me. Besides, I wish to learn more."
"You see," continued the old man, triumphantly, "you were recognized. Indeed, M. de Richelieu, who was at the ball in spite of his eighty-four years, wondered who the blue domino could be with whom the queen was walking, and he could only suspect you, for he knew all the others."
"And pray how does he say he recognized the queen?"
"Not very difficult, when she took her mask off. Such audacity as that surpasses all imagination; she must really be mad about you. But take care, chevalier; you have jealous rivals to fear; it is an envied post to be favorite of the queen, when the queen is the real king. Pardon my moralizing, but I do not wish that the breath of chance should blow down what you have reared so skilfully."
Philippe rose; the conversation was hateful to him, but a kind of savage curiosity impelled him to hear everything.
"We are already envied," continued the old man; "that is natural, but we have not yet attained the height to which we shall rise. To you will belong the glory of raising our name; and now you are progressing so well, only be prudent, or you will fail after all. Soon, however, you must ask for some high post, and obtain for me a lord-lieutenancy not too far from Paris. Then you can have a peerage, and become a duke and lieutenant-general. In two years, if I am still alive----"
"Enough, enough!" groaned Philippe.
"Oh, if you are satisfied with that, I am not. You have a whole life before you; I, perhaps, only a few months. However, I do not complain; God gave me two children, and if my daughter has been useless in repairing our fortunes, you will make up for it. I see in you the great Taverney, and you inspire me with respect, for your conduct has been admirable; you show no jealousy, but leave the field apparently open to every one, while you really hold it alone."
"I do not understand you," replied Philippe.
"Oh, no modesty; it was exactly the conduct of M. Potemkin, who astonished the world with his fortunes. He saw that Catherine loved variety in her amours; that, if left free, she would fly from flower to flower, returning always to the sweetest and most beautiful; but that, if pursued, she would fly right away. He took his part, therefore; he even introduced new favorites to his sovereign, to weary her out with their number; but through and after the quickly succeeding reigns of the twelve Caesars, as they were ironically called, Potemkin in reality was supreme."
"What incomprehensible infamies!" murmured poor Philippe. But the old man went on:
"According to his system, however, you have been still a little wrong. He never abandoned his surveillance, and you are too lax in this."
Philippe replied only by shrugging his shoulders. He really began to think his father was crazy.
"Ah! you thought I did not see your game. You are already providing a successor, for you have divined that there is no stability in the queen's amours, and in the event of her changing, you wish not to be quite thrown aside; therefore you make friends with M. de Charny, who might otherwise, when his turn comes, exile you, as you now might MM. de Coigny, Vaudreuil, and others."
Philippe, with an angry flush, said:
"Once more, enough; I am ashamed to have listened so long. Those who say that the Queen of France is a Messalina are criminal calumniators."
"I tell you," said the old man, "no one can hear, and I approve your plan. M. de Charny will repay your kindness some day."
"Your logic is admirable, sir; and M. de Charny is so much my favorite that I have just passed my sword through his ribs."
"What!" cried the old man, somewhat frightened at his son's flashing eyes, "you have not been fighting?"
"Yes, sir; that is my method of conciliating my successors. And he turned to go away.
"Philippe, you jest."
"I do not, sir."
The old man rose, and tottered off to the house.
"Quick," said he to the servant; "let a man on horseback go at once and ask after M. de Charny, who has been wounded, and let him be sure to say he comes from me." Then he murmured to himself, "Mine is still the only head in the family." _