CHAPTER XVII
REPORTS AND DENUNCIATIONS
Seven or eight months passed by, unmarked by any important occurrences either for the personages of this story, or for the actors upon the stage of history.
Nevertheless, during that time events of considerable importance were preparing.
To understand what they were, and learn all about them, we have only to pay a visit, on the 25th of February, 1560, to the place of all others where news is supposed to be most plentiful; that is to say, the cabinet of Monsieur le Lieutenant de Police, who was at that time one Monsieur de Braguelonne.
On the evening of the 25th of February, Monsieur de Braguelonne, lounging carelessly on his Cordova leather couch, was listening to the report of Master Arpion, one of his secretaries.
Master Arpion was reading aloud as follows,—
"To-day the notorious thief, Gilles Rose, was arrested in the great hall of the palace, in the act of cutting off the end of a golden girdle, on the person of a canon of Ste. Chapelle."
"A canon of Ste. Chapelle! Well, upon my word!" exclaimed Monsieur de Braguelonne.
"It was a very sacrilegious performance," observed Master Arpion.
"And very clever, too," replied the lieutenant of police, "very clever! for your canon is a suspicious mortal. I will tell you presently, Master Arpion, what must be done with this cunning thief. Go on."
"The demoiselles of the hovels in the Rue du Grand-Heuleu," continued Arpion, "are in a state of open revolt."
"For what cause, in God's name?"
"They claim to have addressed a petition directly to our lord the king, asking to be allowed to retain their establishments, and meanwhile they have had an encounter with the watch and put them to rout."
"That is very amusing!" laughed Monsieur de Braguelonne. "We can easily set that to rights. Poor girls! Is there anything else?"
Master Arpion continued,—
"Messieurs les Deputés de la Sorbonne having presented themselves at Madame la Princesse de Condé's house at Paris, to insist that she should not eat flesh during Lent, were received with jeers and derision by Monsieur de Sechelles, who said to them, among other insulting things, that he liked them less than a boil on his nose, and that such calves as they made strange ambassadors."
"Ah, that is a serious matter!" said the lieutenant, rising. "Refusing to abstain from meat, and poking fun at Messieurs de la Sorbonne! This tends to swell your account, Madame de Condé; and when we present you with the total—Arpion, is that all?"
"Mon Dieu, yes! for to-day. Monseigneur has not told me what to do with this Gilles Rose."
"In the first place," said Monsieur de Braguelonne, "you will take him, together with the most adroit pickpockets and burglars you can find in the prison, and send the whole lot of fine fellows to Blois, where they can have an opportunity to exhibit their tricks and cleverness for the king's entertainment during the fêtes which are being arranged for his Majesty."
"But, Monseigneur, suppose they retain the articles they have stolen in fun?"
"Then they shall be hung."
At this moment an usher entered and announced,—
"Monsieur le Inquisiteur de la Foi!"
Master Arpion did not need to be told to withdraw, He bowed respectfully and left the room.
The man who was ushered in was, in fact, a notable and formidable personage.
To his every-day titles of Doctor of the Sorbonne and Canon of Noyon, he added the extraordinary and high-sounding appellation of 'Grand Inquisitor of the Faith in France.' And in order that he might bear a name as sonorous as his title, he called himself Démocharès, although he was really plain Antoine de Mouchy. The people had christened his subordinates mouchards,—police spies.
"Good-evening, Monsieur le Lieutenant de Police," said the grand inquisitor.
"The same to you, Monsieur le Grand Inquisiteur," responded the lieutenant.
"Any news in Paris?"
"I was just about to ask you that very question."
"That means that there is none," observed Démocharès, with a profound sigh. "Ah, these are hard times! There is nothing going on,—no conspiracies, and no crime at all! What cowardly wretches these Huguenots are! Our profession has a decided grievance against them, Monsieur de Braguelonne!"
"No, no!" replied Monsieur de Braguelonne, emphatically. "No, governments change, but the police remains."
"Nevertheless," retorted Monsieur de Mouchy, bitterly, "see what the result has been of our descent upon the main army of the Reformers in the Rue des Marais. By surprising them at table in the midst of their dinner, we hoped to take them in the act of eating pork in the guise of the paschal lamb, as you had told us; but the only result of that magnificent expedition was one poor little larded chicken. Can such exploits as that reflect much credit upon your organization, Monsieur le Lieutenant de Police?"
"One can't always succeed," said Monsieur de Braguelonne. "Were you any more fortunate yourself, in the matter of the advocate of Place Maubert,—Trouillard, was it not? Yet you expected great things of it."
"I admit it," said Démocharès, piteously.
"You expected to prove as clearly as the day," continued Monsieur de Braguelonne, "that this Trouillard had abandoned his two daughters to the tender mercies of his fellow-enthusiasts after a frightful orgy; but, behold! the witnesses whom you had bought at such a high price suddenly retracted everything and gave you the lie."
"The traitors!" muttered De Mouchy.
"More than that," said the lieutenant, pitilessly pursuing his advantage, "I received reports from various sources, all of which went to show that the virtue of the two young girls was without a stain."
"It was infamous," grumbled Démocharès.
"A bad failure, Monsieur le Grand Inquisiteur de la Foi, a bad failure!" repeated Monsieur de Braguelonne, with much complacency.
"Well," cried Démocharès, impatiently, "if the affair did miscarry, it was all your fault!"
"What, my fault!" ejaculated the amazed lieutenant.
"To be sure. You content yourself with reports and retractations, and such nonsense. Of what consequence are these repulses and contradictions? We must go ahead all the same, and boldly accuse the villains as if we had met no rebuff at all."
"What! without proofs?"
"Yes, and convict them."
"When they have committed no crime?"
"Yes, and hang them."
"Without judges?"
"Yes, a hundred times yes! Without judge or crime or proof! There's no great merit in hanging only those who are really guilty."
"But what an outcry of rage there will be against us then!" said Monsieur de Braguelonne.
"Ah! that is what I expected you would say," rejoined Démocharès, triumphantly. "That is the very corner-stone of my whole system, Monsieur. For what does this rage of which you speak lead to? Conspiracy. What is the outcome of conspiracy? Revolution. And what is the principal result of revolution? Why, to make your office and mine of very great importance and utility."
"To be sure, from that point of view!" said Monsieur de Braguelonne, laughing.
"Ah, Monsieur," observed Démocharès, with the air of a master, "remember this principle, 'In order to reap crimes we must first sow them.' Persecution is a very great force."
"Well, I must say," rejoined the lieutenant, "that it seems to me we have not been behindhand in that direction since the beginning of this reign. It would be difficult to stir up and provoke the discontented of all sorts more than we have done."
"Pshaw! what have we done?" asked the grand inquisitor, scornfully.
"Well, in the first place, do you consider the daily domiciliary visits and despoiling of all the Huguenots, innocent or guilty, of no account?"
"My faith! yes, I consider them of absolutely no account," was Démocharès's reply; "for you see with what tranquil patience they bear these annoyances, which are altogether too trifling."
"And the punishment of Anne Dubourg, nephew of a chancellor of France, who was burned two months since in the Place de Grève,—was that nothing?"
"It was a very small thing," said the fastidious De Mouchy. "What was the result of it? The murder of President Minard, one of his judges, and an apocryphal conspiracy of which we never, succeeded in finding any traces. So that was nothing to make a very great amount of talk about."
"Well, what do you say to the last edict?" asked Monsieur de Braguelonne,—"the last edict, which strikes, not at the Huguenots alone, but at the whole nobility of the kingdom. For my own part, I said frankly to Monsieur le Cardinal de Lorraine that I thought it went a little too far."
"Are you speaking of the ordinance suppressing pensions?" said Démocharès.
"No, indeed, but of the one which requires all suitors, whether of high or low birth, to quit the court within twenty-four hours, under pain of being hanged. You must agree that to decree the halter for gentlemen and clowns alike is rather severe, and likely to lead to trouble."
"Yes, the order does not lack audacity," said Démocharès, with a smile of satisfaction. "Fifty years ago such an edict would, I confess, have excited the whole nobility to revolt. But now you see they only complain, and do nothing overt. Not one of them has raised a hand."
"That's where you are mistaken, Monsieur le Grand Inquisiteur," said Braguelonne, lowering his voice; "and though they may not be stirring at Paris, there is trouble brewing in the Provinces."
"Aha!" cried De Mouchy, eagerly, "you have some intelligence of that sort?"
"Not yet, but I expect it every moment."
"From what quarter?"
"From the Loire."
"Have you agents there?"
"Only one, but he is a good one."
"Only one? that's very risky," remarked Démocharès, with a very knowing air.
"I much prefer, myself," replied Monsieur de Braguelonne, "to pay a single trustworthy man, who is at once intelligent and reliable, the price of twenty stupid rascals. That is my way; what do you think?"
"Oh, that's all very well; but who is responsible to you for this man?"
"Well, his head in the first place; and then his past services, too, for he has been put to the proof."
"Never mind; it's very risky," persisted Démocharès. Master Arpion came softly in while Monsieur de Mouchy was speaking, and whispered in his master's ear.
"Aha!" cried the lieutenant, triumphantly. "Very well! Arpion, introduce Lignières at once. Yes, while Monsieur le Grand Inquisiteur is here; for is he not one of us?"
Arpion saluted and withdrew.
"This Lignières is the very man of whom I was speaking to you," continued Monsieur de Braguelonne, rubbing his hands. "You shall hear what he says. He has just arrived from Nantes. We have no secrets from each other, have we?—and I am very glad to have an opportunity to prove to you that my way is as good as another."
At this point Master Arpion opened the door to Lignières.
It was the selfsame little fellow, lean and hungry-looking, whose acquaintance we have already made at the Protestant meeting in the Place Maubert,—the same who had so boldly exhibited the republican medal, and prated about decapitated lilies and crowns trodden under foot.
Thus we may see that even if the name of instigating agent (agent provocateur) had not come into use at that time, the article itself was in a flourishing condition.