Devil’s Dance
~ or ~
Louise de La Vallière
By Alexandre Dumas
Edited and Translated by Lawrence Ellsworth
In Last Week’s Episode
By two in the morning at Fontainebleau, most of the Court was in their (or somebody’s) beds, but the Comte de Saint-Aignan, King Louis’s favorite and accomplice in romance, was prowling the gardens in search of gossip and secrets to share with his royal master. First, he found the Comte de Guiche, mooning over Madame, but de Guiche was cagey and refused to share much with Saint-Aignan, so the latter searched farther into thepark, and there, just as he was about to give up, he discovered a maid of honor at the top of a ladder leaned against the park wall, conversing in hushed tones with someone on the other side.
Chapter XXIX
The Labyrinth
Saint-Aignan had gone out seeking information, but instead had found an adventure. He was delighted. Curious to know why and especially what this man and this woman were talking about at such an hour and in such a strange situation, Saint-Aignan made himself very small and crept nearly to the bottom rungs of the ladder. Then, getting as comfortable as he could, he leaned against a tree and listened.
He was rewarded with the following dialogue. The woman spoke first: “Really, Monsieur de Manicamp, you are dangerously indiscreet,” she said in a tone that, even while reproaching, found a way to tease. “We can’t talk here for long without being discovered.”
“That’s likely enough,” interrupted the man in a tone of calm lethargy.
“But what would people say? Oh, if anyone saw me, I swear I’d die of shame.”
“That’s just the sort of childishness of which I think you’re quite incapable.”
“And it’s not like there’s anything between us, so I’m risking shame for no reason. Adieu, Monsieur de Manicamp!”
“Good! We’ve identified the man and now we’ll see the woman,” Saint-Aignan said to himself, as he watched the descent down the ladder of two legs elegantly shod in sky-blue satin shoes and clad in rose-pink stockings.
“Come, now, my dear Montalais, don’t run off!” cried Manicamp. “What the devil! I still have things of the utmost importance to say to you.”
Montalais! thought Saint-Aignan. Another of the Royal Oak Three! And each has her own adventure—though I’d expected Montalais’s to involve Malicorne rather than Manicamp.
At this appeal from above, Montalais paused in her descent. The unhappy Manicamp could be seen squirming about on the limb of the chestnut, either to get a better view or to find a more comfortable position. “Come back and listen to me,” he said. “You know, I hope, that I have no ill intentions toward you.”
“That’s true enough. So why did you send me that note asking to meet me? And why at such a time as now and in such a place as this?”
“I knew I could count on you because, as my note reminded you, it was I who got you into Madame’s household. So, I set up this interview, which you have been kind enough to grant me, when and where I thought it would be safest. This seemed to me the quietest hour and the loneliest place—and what I need to talk to you about requires discretion and solitude.”
“Really, Monsieur de Manicamp?”
“Upon my honor, my dear Demoiselle.”
“No, really, Monsieur de Manicamp, I think it would be more appropriate for me to retire.”
“Hear me before I become desperate and jump across to your ladder, because I’m snagged on this chestnut branch and it’s provoking me to excesses. Be less vexing than this branch and listen to me.”
“Very well, I’ll listen, but be brief, because though you may have a branch that’s provoking you, this ladder’s sharp rungs are cutting right through my soles, and these delicate shoes won’t last much longer.”
“Do me the favor of giving me your hand, Mademoiselle.”
“And why?”
“Because I ask.”
“Here’s my hand—but wait, what are you doing?”
“I’m pulling you toward me.”
“What for? You don’t want me to join you in your tree, I hope!”
“No, I just want you to sit atop the wall. Good! Now, I’d give quite a bit if you’d allow me to sit next to you. There’s plenty of room.”
“No, thank you! Stay right where you are. Someone might see you!”
“Do you think so?” said Manicamp archly.
“I’m sure of it.”
“So be it! I shall remain in my chestnut tree, though I couldn’t be worse situated.”
“That’s a mere distraction, Monsieur de Manicamp. Keep to the point, please.”
“You’re quite right.”
“Now, you wrote to me.”
“I did.”
“But why did you write to me?”
“Because at two yesterday afternoon, de Guiche left his country estate.”
“So?”
“So, seeing him leave, I followed, as is my habit.”
“I believe it, since here you are.”
“Now, you know, don’t you, that poor de Guiche was up to his neck in disgrace?”
“Alas, yes!”
“So, it was the height of imprudence for him to ride to Fontainebleau where he would meet those who’d sent him away, and especially the one they’d sent him away from.”
“You reason as clearly as Pythagoras, Monsieur de Manicamp.”
“However, de Guiche is the most stubborn of lovers, and wouldn’t listen to a word of my advice. I begged him to reconsider, but he refused, devil take it!”
“What could you do?”
“Damn it! …My apologies, Mademoiselle, but that wretched branch I had the honor to tell you of has torn my hosiery.”
“It’s dark, and no one will see,” replied Montalais, laughing. “Please continue, Monsieur de Manicamp.”
“De Guiche set off on horseback at a gallop, and I followed, but at a walk. I’m sure you understand that though a friend may ride over the edge of a cliff, to follow him would be the act of a fool or a madman. So, I let the reckless de Guiche ride on ahead, convinced that he would just be turned away, or if he was received, that he’d take offense at the first insult and return home. I rode on to Ris, and then Melun, fully eleven leagues, yet I didn’t see him coming back.”
Montalais just shrugged and smiled.
“Laugh if you like, Mademoiselle, but if you weren’t sitting comfortably on a wall, and instead were perched astride this miserable branch, you might be more sympathetic.”
“Patience, Monsieur de Manicamp! A little discomfort is soon forgotten. You’d ridden past Ris and then Melun?”
“Yes, exactly, and I kept prodding my mount forward, but to my surprise he didn’t appear. Finally, I arrived at Fontainebleau. I asked everybody about de Guiche, but nobody in the village or the outskirts knew where he was: he’d just ridden into the château and disappeared. Since eight o’clock in the evening I’ve been haunting the environs of Fontainebleau, asking everyone about de Guiche, but there’s no sign of him. I’m dying of anxiety! Of course, I didn’t enter the château myself because I didn’t want to throw myself into the wolf’s mouth, like my heedless friend, so I took refuge among the servants and sent you a note. Now, Mademoiselle, in the name of heaven, reassure me that all is well.”
“That isn’t hard, my dear Monsieur de Manicamp; your friend de Guiche received a warm welcome on his return.”
“Nonsense.”
“He joined right in with the king’s fête.”
“But it was the king who’d exiled him!”
“Madame smiled upon him, and Monsieur seemed to favor him more than ever.”
“Ah!” said Manicamp. “That explains why he’s still here. And did he mention me?”
“Not a word.”
“That was ill-natured of him. What’s he doing now?”
“He’s probably sleeping—or at least dreaming.”
“What did everyone do all evening?”
“We danced!”
“Ah, the famous ballet? How was de Guiche?”
“Superb.”
“Was he? My dear friend! I beg your pardon, Mademoiselle, but now I simply have to join you over there.”
“What do you mean?”
“You must understand, I hardly think they’d open the gates of the château to me at this hour, and while it would be refreshing to sleep out on this branch, I don’t believe it’s possible for anyone but a parrot.”
“But, Monsieur de Manicamp, how can I just invite a man to come in over the wall?”
“Two, actually, Mademoiselle,” said another voice, so timidly that the speaker was clearly aware of the impropriety of his request.
“Good God! Who’s that?” cried Montalais, peering into the chestnut’s lower branches.
“Me, Mademoiselle.”
“Me, who?”
“Malicorne, your most humble servant.” And, saying this, Malicorne hoisted himself into the upper branches.
“Monsieur Malicorne! Heavens! Are you both out of your minds?”
“I hope all is well with you, Mademoiselle,” said Malicorne politely.
“Malicorne too! That’s all I needed,” said Montalais peevishly.
“Now, Mademoiselle,” said Malicorne gently, “please don’t be distraught.”
“After all, Mademoiselle, we’re your friends,” said Manicamp, “and you surely don’t desire the death of your friends. Because leaving us out here in the night is as good as condemning us to death.”
“Oh, Monsieur Malicorne is hardy enough not to die from a night spent out under the stars,” said Montalais.
“Mademoiselle!”
“It would be a just punishment for this escapade.”
“So be it! Let Malicorne arrange things with you as he can,” said Manicamp. “As for me, I’m going in.”
And, clambering down from the branch against which he’d made so many complaints, he landed on the wall next to Montalais, gripping it with both hands and feet. Montalais tried to push him back to the chestnut, but Manicamp held on tight. This brief struggle was comical, and Saint-Aignan was glad he was there to appreciate it.
But Manicamp successfully fought his way to the ladder. Once his feet were firmly on its rungs and he was established as its possessor, he gallantly offered his hand to his defeated enemy.
Meanwhile, Malicorne moved into the spot in the chestnut tree formerly occupied by Manicamp, intending to follow him as quickly as he could.
Manicamp and Montalais went down a few rungs, Manicamp pleading, Montalais laughing and still refusing. Then came the voice of Malicorne, beseeching, “Mademoiselle, don’t abandon me, I beg of you! My position is awkward, and I can’t reach the top of the wall alone. If Manicamp tears his clothes, he can recover by borrowing those of Monsieur de Guiche, but if mine are ruined, I can scarcely replace them if Manicamp’s are also torn.”
“I think,” said Manicamp, paying no mind to Malicorne’s pleas, “the best course would be to seek out Monsieur de Guiche right now. The longer I wait, the more likely his rooms will be locked up for the night.”
“I think so, too,” replied Montalais. “Run along, Monsieur de Manicamp.”
“A thousand thanks! Au revoir, Mademoiselle!” said Manicamp. “No one could be more congenial than you are.”
“Your servant, Monsieur de Manicamp. Now I just need to be rid of Monsieur Malicorne.”
Malicorne sighed.
“Come, now, enough of that,” called Montalais.
Manicamp took a few steps, then returned to the foot of the ladder and said, “Ah, by the way, Mademoiselle, which way is Monsieur de Guiche’s?”
“But of course! Nothing could be simpler. You follow the hedge….”
“Fine, fine.”
“Till you get to the crossroads on the lawn.”
“All right.”
“There you’ll find four paths.”
“All … right.”
“You take one….”
“But which?”
“The one on the right. I think.”
“On the right.”
“Or is it the one on the left?”
“Ah, diable!”
“No, it’s … wait.”
“You don’t seem very sure of yourself, Mademoiselle.”
“It’s the one in the middle.”
“But you said there are four. There is no middle.”
“That’s true. All I know is that one of them leads to Madame’s quarters and I’ll know it if I see it.”
“But surely Monsieur de Guiche isn’t at Madame’s?”
“My God, no!”
“Then the path that leads to Madame’s is no use to me, and I would prefer to take the path that leads to de Guiche’s quarters.”
“Well, of course you would, and I’m sure I’d know which one that is, but I can’t tell it from here.”
“Very well, Mademoiselle. Let’s just suppose I chose the right path. What then?”
“Then, of course, you’d get there.”
“Fine!”
“You just have to find your way through the hedge labyrinth.”
“The devil! There’s a hedge labyrinth?”
“Yes, and a rather complex one—we got lost in it just the other day! So many twists and turns! First you have to take three turns to the right, then two to the left, then one … or is it two? Anyway, when you get through the labyrinth, you’ll find a path lined with sycamores, and that path will take you straight to Monsieur de Guiche’s quarters.”
“Mademoiselle,” said Manicamp, “your directions are admirable, and I have no doubt that, following them, I shall immediately lose my way. Therefore, I have a small service to ask of you.”
“What?”
“It is to offer me your arm and to guide me like another … like another … I thought I knew my classical mythology, Mademoiselle, but these grave events have made me forget it. Lead on, I beg you.”
“What, and abandon me?” cried Malicorne.
“It can’t be done, Monsieur,” said Montalais to Manicamp. “I might be seen with you at this advanced hour of the night, and then what would people say?”
“My death by exposure will weigh heavily on your conscience, Mademoiselle,” said Manicamp sententiously.
“It simply can’t be done, Monsieur!”
“Then let Malicorne come down to help me. He’s an intelligent lad with a keen sense for the main chance—he can guide me, and if we get lost, at least we’ll be lost together and can aid each other. Plus, if we meet anyone, we’ll look like a pair of friends out for a stroll, whereas I by myself would be taken for a thief, or even a lover. Come, Malicorne, here’s the ladder.”
“Monsieur Malicorne,” snapped Montalais, “I forbid you to leave your tree or you risk incurring my wrath!”
Malicorne had already stretched a leg toward the top of the wall, and now he sadly withdrew it.
“Hush!” said Manicamp in a low voice.
“What is it?” asked Montalais.
“I hear someone coming.”
“Ah, mon Dieu!”
In fact, there was a rustling in the bushes, the foliage parted, and out stepped Saint-Aignan, with a laughing eye and an outstretched hand, surprising everyone in their various positions, that is, Malicorne in the tree with his leg extended, Montalais on the rungs and glued to the ladder, and Manicamp at its foot with his own foot forward, ready to run off.
“Good evening, Manicamp, and welcome, dear friend,” said Saint-Aignan. “We missed you tonight and wondered where you were. As to you, Mademoiselle de Montalais, I am your very humble servant.”
Montalais blushed. “Oh, my God!” she stammered, and hid her face in her hands.
“Mademoiselle,” said Saint-Aignan, “fear not, for I recognize your innocence and will testify it to all. Manicamp, follow me, for crossroads, quincunx, and labyrinth are no mystery to me, and I’ll be your Ariadne. See? I even remember my classics.”
“Faith, but it’s true! Thank you, Count.”
“While you’re at it, Count,” said Montalais, “take Malicorne with you as well.”
“No, no,” said Malicorne. “Monsieur de Manicamp chatted with you for quite a while, and now, if you please, it’s my turn, Mademoiselle. For I have any number of things to tell you about our future.”
“You hear?” said Saint-Aignan, laughing. “Stay with him, Mademoiselle. Don’t you know this is a night for secrets?”
And, taking Manicamp’s arm, Saint-Aignan led him off up the path that he knew so well and that Montalais had described so badly.
Montalais, meanwhile, followed them with her eyes until she was sure they were gone.
ALEXANDRE DUMAS’ MUSKETEERS CYCLE
Devil’s Dance is part of a series. Everyone has heard of The Three Musketeers and its heroes d’Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, but what’s less well known nowadays is that Dumas followed up his greatest novel with a series of sequels that are just as great. Your Cheerful Editor Lawrence Ellsworth has been compiling all-new contemporary translations of these novels, and the entire series, when complete, will fill nine volumes:
- The Three Musketeers, Book One
- The Red Sphinx, Book Two
- Twenty Years After, Book Three
- Blood Royal, Book Four
- Between Two Kings, Book Five
- Court of Daggers, Book Six
- Devil’s Dance, Book Seven
- Shadow of the Bastille, Book Eight
- The Man in the Iron Mask, Book Nine
Volumes one through six are already in print, the first five from Pegasus Books, while Book Six, Court of Daggers, is available as an independent publication. Each week now brings a new episode in the serialization of Book Seven, Devil’s Dance. If you’re interested in more of my work, you can find out about it at swashbucklingadventure.net. So welcome, fellow cavaliers, and enjoy the ride!
—Lawrence Ellsworth
Copyright © 2023 Lawrence Schick. All rights reserved.