Such in brief were the reasons which would have led me, had I followed the
promptings of my own sagacity, to oppose the return of the Jesuits. It remains for
me only to add that these arguments lost all their weight when set in the balance
against the safety of my beloved master. To this plea the king himself for once
condescended, and found those who were most strenuous to dissuade him the
least able to refute it; since the more a man abhorred the Jesuits, the more ready
he was to allow that the king's life could not be safe from their practices while the
edict against them remained in force. The support which I gave to the king on this
occasion exposed me to the utmost odium of my co-religionists, and was in later
times ill-requited by the order. But a remarkable incident that occurred while the
matter was still under debate, and which I now for the first time make public,
proved beyond question the wisdom of my conduct.
Fontainebleau being at this time in the hands of the builders, the king had gone
to spend his Easter at Chantilly, whither Mademoiselle d'Entragues had also
repaired. During his absence from Paris I was seated one morning in my library
at the Arsenal, when I was informed that Father Cotton, the same who at Metz
had presented a petition from the Jesuits, and who was now in Paris pursuing
that business under a safe-conduct, craved leave to pay his respects to me. I
was not surprised, for I had been a little before this of some service to him. The
pages of the court, while loitering outside the Louvre, had raised a tumult in the
streets, and grievously insulted the father by shouting after him, "Old Wool! Old
Cotton!" in imitation of the Paris street cry. For this the king, at my instigation,
had caused them to be soundly whipped, and I supposed that the Jesuit now
desired to thank me for advice—given, in truth, rather out of regard to discipline
than to him. So I bade them admit him.
His first words, uttered before my secretaries could retire, indicated that this was
indeed his errand; and for a few moments I listened to such statements from him
and made such answers myself as became our several positions. Then, as he
did not go, I began to conceive the notion that he had come with a further
purpose; and his manner, which seemed on this occasion to lack ease, though
he was well gifted with skill and address, confirmed the notion. I waited,
therefore, with patience, and presently he named his Majesty with many
expressions of devotion to his person. "I trust," said he, "that the air of
Fontainebleau agrees with him, M. de Rosny?"
"You mean, good father, of Chantilly?" I answered.
"Ah, to be sure!" he rejoined, hastily. "He is, of course, at Chantilly."
