CHAPTER XLII

Three days later there was opened in one of the chambers of the Emperor's

palace at Vienna a Congress of four nations--Prussia, Russia, Austria,

and Sardinia. Detricand's labours had achieved this result at last.

Grandjon-Larisse, his old enemy in battle, now his personal friend and

colleague in this business, had influenced Napoleon, and the Directory

through him, to respect the neutrality of the duchy of Bercy, for which

the four nations of this Congress declared. Philip himself little knew

whose hand had secured the neutrality until summoned to appear at the

Congress, to defend his rights to the title and the duchy against those

of Detricand Prince of Vaufontaine. Had he known that Detricand was

behind it all he would have fought on to the last gasp of power and died

on the battle-field. He realised now that such a fate was not for him--

that he must fight, not on the field of battle like a prince, but in a

Court of Nations like a doubtful claimant of sovereign honours.

His whole story had become known in the duchy, and though it begot no

feeling against him in war-time, now that Bercy was in a neutral zone of

peace there was much talk of the wrongs of Guida and the Countess

Chantavoine. He became moody and saturnine, and saw few of his subjects

save the old Governor-General and his whilom enemy, now his friend, Count

Carignan Damour. That at last he should choose to accompany him to

Vienna the man who had been his foe during the lifetime of the old Duke,

seemed incomprehensible. Yet, to all appearance, Damour was now Philip's

zealous adherent. He came frankly repenting his old enmity, and though

Philip did not quite believe him, some perverse temper, some obliquity of

vision which overtakes the ablest minds at times, made him almost eagerly

accept his new partisan. One thing Philip knew: Damour had no love for

Detricand, who indeed had lately sent him word that for his work in

sending Fouche's men to attempt his capture in Bercy, he would have him

shot, if the Court of Nations upheld his rights to the duchy. Damour was

able, even if Damour was not honest. Damour, the able, the implacable

and malignant, should accompany him to Vienna.

The opening ceremony of the Congress was simple, but it was made notable

by the presence of the Emperor of Austria, who addressed a few words of

welcome to the envoys, to Philip, and, very pointedly, to the

representative of the French Nation, the aged Duc de Mauban, who, while

taking no active part in the Congress, was present by request of the

Directory. The Duke's long residence in Vienna and freedom from share in

the civil war in France had been factors in the choice of him when the

name was submitted to the Directory by General Grandjon-Larisse, upon

whom in turn it had been urged by Detricand.

The Duc de Mauban was the most marked figure of the Court, the Emperor

not excepted. Clean shaven, with snowy linen and lace, his own natural

hair, silver white, tied in a queue behind, he had large eloquent

wondering eyes that seemed always looking, looking beyond the thing he

saw. At first sight of him at his court, the Emperor had said: "The

stars have frightened him." No fanciful supposition, for the Duc de

Mauban was as well known an astronomer as student of history and

philanthropist.

When the Emperor mentioned de Mauban's name Philip wondered where he had

heard it before. Something in the sound of it was associated with his

past, he knew not how. He had a curious feeling too that those

deliberate, searching dark eyes saw the end of this fight, this battle of

the strong. The face fascinated him, though it awed him. He admired it,

even as he detested the ardent strength of Detricand's face, where the

wrinkles of dissipation had given way to the bronzed carven look of the

war-beaten soldier.

It was fair battle between these two, and there was enough hatred in the

heart of each to make the fight deadly. He knew--and he had known since

that day, years ago, in the Place du Vier Prison--that Detricand loved

the girl whom he himself had married and dishonoured. He felt also that

Detricand was making this claim to the duchy more out of vengeance than

from desire to secure the title for himself. He read the whole deep

scheme: how Detricand had laid his mine at every Court in Europe to bring

him to this pass.

For hours Philip's witnesses were examined, among them the officers of

his duchy and Count Carignan Damour. The physician of the old Duke of

Bercy was examined, and the evidence was with Philip. The testimony of

Dalbarade, the French ex-Minister of Marine, was read and considered.

Philip's story up to the point of the formal signature by the old Duke

was straightforward and clear. So far the Court was in his favour.

Detricand, as natural heir of the duchy, combated each step in the

proceedings from the stand-point of legality, of the Duke's fatuity

concerning Philip, and his personal hatred of the House of Vaufontaine.

On the third day, when the Congress would give its decision, Detricand

brought the Chevalier to the palace. At the opening of the sitting he

requested that Damour be examined again. The Count was asked what

question had been put to Philip immediately before the deeds of

inheritance were signed. It was useless for Damour to evade the point,

for there were other officers of the duchy present who could have told

the truth. Yet this truth, of itself, need not ruin Philip. It was no

phenomenon for a prince to have one wife unknown, and, coming to the

throne, to take to himself another more exalted.

Detricand was hoping that the nice legal sense of mine and thine should

be suddenly weighted in his favour by a prepared tour de force. The

sympathies of the Congress were largely with himself, for he was of the

order of the nobility, and Philip's descent must be traced through

centuries of yeoman blood; yet there was the deliberate adoption by the

Duke to face, with the formal assent of the States of Bercy, but little

lessened in value by the fact that the French Government had sent its

emissaries to Bercy to protest against it. The Court had come to a point

where decision upon the exact legal merits of the case was difficult.

After Damour had testified to the question the Duke asked Philip when

signing the deeds at Bercy, Detricand begged leave to introduce another

witness, and brought in the Chevalier. Now he made his great appeal.

Simply, powerfully, he told the story of Philip's secret marriage with

Guida, and of all that came after, up to the scene in the Cohue Royale

when the marriage was proved and the child given back to Guida; when the

Countess Chantavoine, turning from Philip, acknowledged to Guida the

justice of her claim. He drove home the truth with bare unvarnished

power--the wrong to Guida, the wrong to the Countess, the wrong to the

Dukedom of Bercy, to that honour which should belong to those in high

estate. Then at the last he told them who Guida was: no peasant girl,

but the granddaughter of the Sieur Larchant de Mauprat of de Mauprats of

Chambery: the granddaughter of an exile indeed, but of the noblest blood

of France.

The old Duc de Mauban fixed his look on him intently, and as the story

proceeded his hand grasped the table before him in strong emotion. When

at last Detricand turned to the Chevalier and asked him to bear witness

to the truth of what he had said, the Duke, in agitation, whispered to

the President.

All that Detricand had said moved the Court powerfully, but when the

withered little flower of a man, the Chevalier, told in quaint brief

sentences the story of the Sieur de Mauprat, his sufferings, his exile,

and the nobility of his family, which had indeed, far back, come of royal

stock, and then at last of Guida and the child, more than one member of

the Court turned his head away with misty eyes.

It remained for the Duc de Mauban to speak the word which hastened and

compelled the end. Rising in his place, he addressed to the Court a few

words of apology, inasmuch as he was without real power there, and then

he turned to the Chevalier.

"Monsieur le chevalier," said he, "I had the honour to know you in

somewhat better days for both of us. You will allow me to greet you here

with my profound respect. The Sieur Larchant de Mauprat"--he turned to

the President, his voice became louder--"the Sieur de Mauprat was my

friend. He was with me upon the day I married the Duchess Guidabaldine.

Trouble, exile came to him. Years passed, and at last in Jersey I saw

him again. It was the very day his grandchild was born. The name given

to her was Guidabaldine--the name of the Duchese de Mauban. She was

Guidabaldine Landresse de Landresse, she is my godchild. There is no

better blood in France than that of the de Mauprats of Chambery, and the

grandchild of my friend, her father being also of good Norman blood, was

worthy to be the wife of any prince in Europe. I speak in the name of

our order, I speak for Frenchmen, I speak for France. If Detricand,

Prince of Vaufontaine, be not secured in his right of succession to the

dukedom of Bercy, France will not cease to protest till protest hath done

its work. From France the duchy of Bercy came. It was the gift of a

French king to a Frenchman, and she hath some claims upon the courtesy of

the nations."

For a moment after he took his seat there was absolute silence. Then the

President wrote upon a paper before him, and it was passed to each member

of the Court sitting with him. For a moment longer there was nothing

heard save the scratching of a quill. Philip recalled that day at Bercy

when the Duke stooped and signed his name upon the deed of adoption and

succession three times-three fateful times.

At last the President, rising in his place, read the pronouncement of the

Court: that Detricand, Prince of Vaufontaine, be declared true inheritor

of the duchy of Bercy, the nations represented here confirming him in his

title.

The President having spoken, Philip rose, and, bowing to the Congress

with dignity and composure, left the chamber with Count Carignan Damour.

As he passed from the portico into the grounds of the palace, a figure

came suddenly from behind a pillar and touched him on the arm. He turned

quickly, and received upon the face a blow from a glove.

The owner of the glove was General Grandjon-Larisse.