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diff --git a/old/gntfr10.txt b/old/gntfr10.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ea646ff..0000000 --- a/old/gntfr10.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16609 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Gentleman of France, by Weyman -#2 in our series by Stanley Weyman. - -Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check -the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! - -Please take a look at the important information in this header. -We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an -electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* - -Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and -further information is included below. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* - - - - - -Note: - -In this Etext, text in italics has been written in capital -letters. - -Many French words in the text have accents, etc. which have been -omitted. - - - - - -A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE - -BEING THE MEMOIRS OF GASTON DE BONNE SIEUR DE MARSAC - -by STANLEY WEYMAN - - - - -CONTENTS. - -CHAPTER I. THE SPORT OF FOOLS -CHAPTER II. THE KING OF NAVARRE -CHAPTER III. BOOT AND SADDLE -CHAPTER IV. MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE -CHAPTER V. THE ROAD TO BLOIS -CHAPTER VI. MY MOTHER'S LODGING -CHAPTER VII. SIMON FLEIX -CHAPTER VIII. AN EMPTY ROOM -CHAPTER IX. THE HOUSE IN THE RUELLE D'ARCY -CHAPTER X. THE FIGHT ON THE STAIRS -CHAPTER XI. THE MAN AT THE DOOR -CHAPTER XII. MAXIMILIAN DE BETHUNE, BARON DE ROSNY -CHAPTER XIII. AT ROSNY -CHAPTER XIV. M. DE RAMBOUILLET -CHAPTER XV. VILAIN HERODES -CHAPTER XVI. IN THE KING'S CHAMBER -CHAPTER XVII. THE JACOBIN MONK -CHAPTER XVIII. THE OFFER OF THE LEAGUE -CHAPTER XIX. MEN CALL IT CHANCE -CHAPTER XX. THE KING'S FACE -CHAPTER XXI. TWO WOMEN -CHAPTER XXII. 'LA FEMME DISPOSE' -CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAST VALOIS -CHAPTER XXIV. A ROYAL PERIL -CHAPTER XXV. TERMS OF SURRENDER -CHAPTER XXVI. MEDITATIONS -CHAPTER XXVII. TO ME, MY FRIENDS! -CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CASTLE ON THE HILL -CHAPTER XXIX. PESTILENCE AND FAMINE -CHAPTER XXX. STRICKEN -CHAPTER XXXI. UNDER THE GREENWOOD -CHAPTER XXXII. A TAVERN BRAWL -CHAPTER XXXIII. AT MEUDON -CHAPTER XXXIV. ''TIS AN ILL WIND' -CHAPTER XXXV. 'LE ROI EST MORT' -CHAPTER XXXVI. 'VIVE LE ROI!' - - - - -A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE SPORT OF FOOLS. - -The death of the Prince of Conde, which occurred in the spring of -1588, by depriving me of my only patron, reduced me to such -straits that the winter of that year, which saw the King of -Navarre come to spend his Christmas at St. Jean d'Angely, saw -also the nadir of my fortunes. I did not know at this time--I -may confess it to-day without shame--wither to turn for a gold -crown or a new scabbard, and neither had nor discerned any hope -of employment. The peace lately patched up at Blois between the -King of France and the League persuaded many of the Huguenots -that their final ruin was at hand; but it could not fill their -exhausted treasury or enable them to put fresh troops into the -field. - -The death of the Prince had left the King of Navarre without a -rival in the affections of the Huguenots; the Vicomte de Turenne, -whose turbulent; ambition already began to make itself felt, and -M. de Chatillon, ranking next to him. It was my ill-fortune, -however, to be equally unknown to all three leaders, and as the -month of December which saw me thus miserably straitened saw me -reach the age of forty, which I regard, differing in that from -many, as the grand climacteric of a man's life, it will be -believed that I had need of all the courage which religion and a -campaigner's life could supply. - -I had been compelled some time before to sell all my horses -except the black Sardinian with the white spot on its forehead; -and I now found myself obliged to part also with my valet de -chambre and groom, whom I dismissed on the same day, paying them -their wages with the last links of gold chain left to me. It was -not without grief and dismay that I saw myself thus stripped of -the appurtenances of a man of birth, and driven to groom my own -horse under cover of night. But this was not the worst. My -dress, which suffered inevitably from this menial employment, -began in no long time to bear witness to the change in my -circumstances; so that on the day of the King of Navarre's -entrance into St. Jean I dared not face the crowd, always quick -to remark the poverty of those above them, but was fain to keep -within doors and wear out my patience in the garret of the -cutler's house in the Rue de la Coutellerie, which was all the -lodging I could now afford. - -Pardieu, 'tis a strange world! Strange that time seems to me; -more strange compared with this. My reflections on that day, I -remember, were of the most melancholy. Look at it how I would, I -could not but see that my life's spring was over. The crows' -feet were gathering about my eyes, and my moustachios, which -seemed with each day of ill-fortune to stand out more fiercely -in proportion as my face grew leaner, were already grey. I was -out at elbows, with empty pockets, and a sword which peered -through the sheath. The meanest ruffler who, with broken feather -and tarnished lace, swaggered at the heels of Turenne, was -scarcely to be distinguished from me. I had still, it is true, a -rock and a few barren acres in Brittany, the last remains of the -family property; but the small small sums which the peasants -could afford to pay were sent annually to Paris, to my mother, -who had no other dower. And this I would not touch, being minded -to die a gentleman, even if I could not live in that estate. - -Small as were my expectations of success, since I had no one at -the king's side to push my business, nor any friend at Court, I -nevertheless did all I could, in the only way that occurred to -me. I drew up a petition, and lying in wait one day for M. -Forget, the King of Navarre's secretary, placed it in his hand, -begging him to lay it before that prince. He took it, and -promised to do so, smoothly, and with as much lip-civility as I -had a right to expect. But the careless manner in which he -doubled up and thrust away the paper on which I had spent so much -labour, no less than the covert sneer of his valet, who ran after -me to get the customary present--and ran, as I still blush to -remember, in vain--warned me to refrain from hope. - -In this, however, having little save hope left, I failed so -signally as to spend the next day and the day after in a fever of -alternate confidence and despair, the cold fit following the hot -with perfect regularity. At length, on the morning of the third -day--I remember it lacked but three of Christmas--I heard a step -on the stairs. My landlord living in his shop, and the two -intervening floors being empty, I had no doubt the message was -for me, and went outside the door to receive it, my first glance -at the messenger confirming me in my highest hopes, as well as in -all I had ever heard of the generosity of the King of Navarre. -For by chance I knew the youth to be one of the royal pages; a -saucy fellow who had a day or two before cried 'Old Clothes' -after me in the street. I was very far from resenting this now, -however, nor did he appear to recall it; so that I drew the -happiest augury as to the contents of the note he bore from the -politeness with which he presented it to me. - -I would not, however, run the risk of a mistake, and before -holding out my hand, I asked him directly and with formality if -it was for me. - -He answered, with the utmost respect, that it was for the Sieur -de Marsac, and for me if I were he. - -'There is an answer, perhaps?' I said, seeing that he lingered. - -'The King of Navarre, sir,' he replied, with a low bow, 'will -receive your answer in person, I believe.' And with that, -replacing the hat which he had doffed out of respect to me, he -turned and went down the stairs. - -Returning to my room, and locking the door, I hastily opened the -missive, which was sealed with a large seal, and wore every -appearance of importance. I found its contents to exceed all my -expectations. The King of Navarre desired me to wait on him at -noon on the following day, and the letter concluded with such -expressions of kindness and goodwill as left me in no doubt of -the Prince's intentions. I read it, I confess, with emotions of -joy and gratitude which would better have become a younger man, -and then cheerfully sat down to spend the rest of the day in -making such improvements in my dress as seemed possible. With a -thankful heart I concluded that I had now escaped from poverty, -at any rate from such poverty as is disgraceful to a gentleman; -and consoled myself for the meanness of the appearance I must -make at Court with the reflection that a day or two would mend -both habit and fortune. - -Accordingly, it was with a stout heart that I left my lodgings a -few minutes before noon next morning, and walked towards the -castle. It was some time since I had made so public an -appearance in the streets, which the visit of the King of -Navarre's Court; had filled with an unusual crowd, and I could -not help fancying as I passed that some of the loiterers eyed me -with a covert smile; and, indeed, I was shabby enough. But -finding that a frown more than sufficed to restore the gravity of -these gentry, I set down the appearance to my own self- -consciousness, and, stroking my moustachios, strode along boldly -until I saw before me, and coming to meet me, the same page who -had delivered the note. - -He stopped in front of me with an air of consequence, and making -me a low bow--whereat I saw the bystanders stare, for he was as -gay a young spark as maid-of-honour could desire--he begged me to -hasten, as the king awaited me in his closet. - -'He has asked for you twice, sir,' he continued importantly, the -feather of his cap almost sweeping the ground. - -'I think,' I answered, quickening my steps, 'that the king's -letter says noon, young sir. If I am late on such an occasion, -he has indeed cause to complain of me.' - -'Tut, tut!' he rejoined waving his hand with a dandified 'It is -no matter. One man may steal a horse when another may not look -over the wall, you know.' - -A man may be gray-haired, he may be sad-complexioned, and yet he -may retain some of the freshness of youth. On receiving this -indication of a favour exceeding all expectation, I remember I -felt the blood rise to my face, and experienced the most lively -gratitude. I wondered who had spoken in my behalf, who had -befriended me; and concluding at last that my part in the affair -at Brouage had come to the king's ears, though I could not -conceive through whom, I passed through the castle gates with an -air of confidence and elation which was not unnatural, I think, -under the circumstances. Thence, following my guide, I mounted -the ramp and entered the courtyard. - -A number of grooms and valets were lounging here, some leading -horses to and fro, others exchanging jokes with the wenches who -leaned from the windows, while their fellows again stamped up and -down to keep their feet warm, or played ball against the wall in -imitation of their masters. Such knaves are ever more insolent -than their betters; but I remarked that they made way for me with -respect, and with rising spirits, yet a little irony, I reminded -myself as I mounted the stairs of the words, 'whom the king -delighteth to honour!' - -Reaching the head of the flight, where was a soldier on guard, -the page opened the door of the antechamber, and standing aside -bade me enter. I did so, and heard the door close behind me. - -For a moment I stood still, bashful and confused. It seemed to -me that there were a hundred people in the room, and that half -the eyes which met mine were women's, Though I was not altogether -a stranger to such state as the Prince of Conde had maintained, -this crowded anteroom filled me with surprise, and even with a -degree of awe, of which I was the next moment ashamed. True, the -flutter of silk and gleam of jewels surpassed anything I had then -seen, for my fortunes had never led me to the king's Court; but -an instant's reflection reminded me that my fathers had held -their own in such scenes, and with a bow regulated rather by this -thought than by the shabbiness of my dress, I advanced amid a -sudden silence. - -'M. de Marsac!' the page announced, in a tone which sounded a -little odd in my ears; so much so, that I turned quickly to look -at him. He was gone, however, and when I turned again the eyes -which met mine were full of smiles. A young girl who stood near -me tittered. Put out of countenance by this, I looked round in -embarrassment to find someone to whom I might apply. - -The room was long and narrow, panelled in chestnut, with a row of -windows on the one hand, and two fireplaces, now heaped with -glowing logs, on the other. Between the fireplaces stood a rack -of arms. Round the nearer hearth lounged a group of pages, the -exact counterparts of the young blade who had brought me hither; -and talking with these were as many young gentlewomen. Two great -hounds lay basking in the heat, and coiled between them, with her -head on the back of the larger, was a figure so strange that at -another time I should have doubted my eyes. It wore the fool's -motley and cap and bells, but a second glance showed me the -features were a woman's. A torrent of black hair flowed loose -about her neck, her eyes shone with wild merriment, and her face, -keen, thin, and hectic, glared at me from the dog's back. Beyond -her, round the farther fireplace, clustered more than a score of -gallants and ladies, of whom one presently advanced to me. - -'Sir,' he said politely--and I wished I could match his bow--'you -wished to see--?' - -'The King of Navarre,' I answered, doing my best. - -He turned to the group behind him, and said, in a peculiarly -even, placid tone, 'He wishes to see the King of Navarre.' Then -in solemn silence he bowed to me again and went back to his -fellows. - -Upon the instant, and before I could make up my mind how to take -this, a second tripped forward, and saluting me, said, 'M. de -Marsac, I think?' - -'At your service, sir,' I rejoined. In my eagerness to escape -the gaze of all those eyes, and the tittering which was audible -behind me, I took a step forward to be in readiness to follow -him. But he gave no sign. 'M. de Marsac to see the King of -Navarre' was all he said, speaking as the other had close to -those behind. And with that he too wheeled round and went back. -to the fire. - -I stared, a first faint suspicion of the truth aroused in my -mind. Before I could act upon it, however--in such a situation -it was no easy task to decide how to act--a third advanced with -the same measured steps. 'By appointment I think, sir?' he -said, bowing lower than the others. - -'Yes,' I replied sharply, beginning to grow warm, 'by appointment -at noon.' - -'M. de Marsac,' he announced in a sing-song tone to those behind -him, 'to see the King of Navarre by appointment at noon.' And -with a second bow--while I grew scarlet with mortification he too -wheeled gravely round and returned to the fireplace. - -I saw another preparing to advance, but he came too late. -Whether my face of anger and bewilderment was too much for them, -or some among them lacked patience to see the end, a sudden -uncontrollable shout of laughter, in which all the room joined, -cut short the farce. God knows it hurt me: I winced, I looked -this way and that, hoping here or there to find sympathy and -help. But it seemed to me that the place rang with gibes, that -every panel framed, however I turned myself, a cruel, sneering -face. One behind me cried 'Old Clothes,' and when I turned the -other hearth whispered the taunt. It added a thousandfold to my -embarrassment that there was in all a certain orderliness, so -that while no one moved, and none, while I looked at them, raised -their voices, I seemed the more singled out, and placed as a butt -in the midst. - -One face amid the pyramid of countenances which hid the farther -fireplace so burned itself into my recollection in that miserable -moment, that I never thereafter forgot it; a small, delicate -woman's face, belonging to a young girl who stood boldly in front -of her companions. It was a face full of pride, and, as I saw it -then, of scorn--scorn that scarcely deigned to laugh; while the -girl's graceful figure, slight and maidenly, yet perfectly -proportioned, seemed instinct with the same feeling of -contemptuous amusement. - -The play, which seemed long enough to me, might have lasted -longer, seeing that no one there had pity on me, had I not, in my -desperation, espied a door at the farther end of the room, and -concluded, seeing no other, that it was the door of the king's -bedchamber. The mortification I was suffering was so great that -I did not hesitate, but advanced with boldness towards it. On -the instant there was a lull in the laughter round me, and half a -dozen voices called on me to stop. - -'I have come to see the king,' I answered, turning on them -fiercely, for I was by this time in no mood for browbeating, 'and -I will see him!' - -'He is out hunting,' cried all with one accord; and they signed -imperiously to me to go back the way I had come. - -But having the king's appointment safe in my pouch, I thought I -had good reason to disbelieve them; and taking advantage of their -surprise--for they had not expected so bold a step on my part--I -was at the door before they could prevent me. I heard Mathurine, -the fool, who had sprung to her feet, cry 'Pardieu! he will take -the Kingdom of Heaven by force!' and those were the last words I -heard; for, as I lifted the latch--there was no one on guard -there--a sudden swift silence fell upon the room behind me. - -I pushed the door gently open and went in. There were two men -sitting in one of the windows, who turned and looked angrily -towards me. For the rest the room was empty. The king's -walking-shoes lay by his chair, and beside them the boot-hooks -and jack. A dog before the fire got up slowly and growled, and -one of the men, rising from the trunk on which he had been -sitting, came towards me and asked me, with every sign of -irritation, what I wanted there, and who had given me leave to -enter. - -I was beginning to explain, with some diffidence the stillness of -the room sobering me--that I wished to see the king, when he who -had advanced took me up sharply with, 'The king? the king? He -is not here, man. He is hunting at St. Valery. Did they not -tell you so outside?' - -I thought I recognised the speaker, than whom I have seldom seen -a man more grave and thoughtful for his years, which were -something less than mine, more striking in presence, or more -soberly dressed. And being desirous to evade his question, I -asked him if I had not the honour to address M. du Plessis -Mornay; for that wise and courtly statesman, now a pillar of -Henry's counsels, it was. - -'The same, sir,' he replied, abruptly, and without taking his -eyes from me. 'I am Mornay. What of that?' - -'I am M. de Marsac,' I explained. And there I stopped, supposing -that, as he was in the king's confidence, this would make my -errand clear to him. - -But I was disappointed. 'Well, sir?' he said, and waited -impatiently. - -So cold a reception, following such treatment as I had suffered -outside, would have sufficed to have dashed my spirits utterly -had I not felt the king's letter in my pocket. Being pretty -confident, however, that a single glance at this would alter M. -du Mornay's bearing for the better, I hastened, looking on it as -a kind of talisman, to draw it out and present it to him. - -He took it, and looked at it, and opened it, but with so cold and -immovable an aspect as made my heart sink more than all that had -gone before. 'What is amiss?' I cried, unable to keep silence. -''Tis from the king, sir.' - -'A king in motley!' he answered, his lip curling. - -The sense of his words did not at once strike home to me, and I -murmured, in great disorder, that the king had sent for me. - -'The king knows nothing of it,' was his blunt answer, bluntly -given. And he thrust the paper back into my hands. 'It is a -trick,' he continued, speaking with the same abruptness, 'for -which you have doubtless to thank some of those idle young -rascals without. You had sent an application to the king, I -suppose? Just so. No doubt they got hold of it, and this is the -result. They ought to be whipped.' - -It was not possible for me to doubt any longer that what he said -was true. I saw in a moment all my hopes vanish, all my plans -flung to the winds; and in the first shock of the discovery I -could neither find voice to answer him nor strength to withdraw. -In a kind of vision I seemed to see my own lean, haggard face -looking at me as in a glass, and, reading despair in my eyes, -could have pitied myself. - -My disorder was so great that M. du Mornay observed it. Looking -more closely at me, he two or three times muttered my name, and -at last said, 'M. de Marsac? Ha! I remember. You were in the -affair of Brouage, were you not?' - -I nodded my head in token of assent, being unable at the moment -to speak, and so shaken that perforce I leaned against the wall, -my head sunk on my breast. The memory of my age, my forty years, -and my poverty, pressed hard upon me, filling me with despair and -bitterness. I could have wept, but no tears came. - -M. du Mornay, averting his eyes from me, took two or three short, -impatient turns up and down the chamber. When he addressed me -again his tone was full of respect, mingled with such petulance -as one brave man might feel, seeing another so hard pressed. 'M. -de Marsac,' he said, 'you have my sympathy. It is a shame that -men who have served the cause should be reduced to such. -straits. Were it, possible for me, to increase my own train at -present, I should consider it an honour to have you with me. But -I am hard put to it myself, and so are we all, and the King of -Navarre not least among us. He has lived for a month upon a wood -which M. de Rosny has cut down. I will mention your name to him, -but I should be cruel rather than kind were I not to warn you -that nothing can come of it.' - -With that he offered me his hand, and, cheered as much by this -mark of consideration as by the kindness of his expressions, I -rallied my spirits. True, I wanted comfort more substantial, but -it was not to be had. I thanked him therefore as becomingly as I -could, and seeing there was no help for it, took my leave of him, -and slowly and sorrowfully withdrew from the room. - -Alas! to escape I had to face the outside world, for which his -kind words were an ill preparation. I had to run the gauntlet of -the antechamber. The moment I appeared, or rather the moment the -door closed behind me, I was hailed with a shout of derision. -While one cried, 'Way! way for the gentleman who has seen the -king!' another hailed me uproariously as Governor of Guyenne, -and a third requested a commission in my regiment. - -I heard these taunts with a heart full almost to bursting. It -seemed to me an unworthy thing that, merely by reason of my -poverty, I should be derided by youths who had still all their -battles before them; but to stop or reproach them would only, as -I well knew, make matters worse, and, moreover, I was so sore -stricken that I had little spirit left even to speak. -Accordingly, I made my way through them with what speed I might, -my head bent, and my countenance heavy with shame and depression. -In this way--I wonder there were not among them some generous -enough to pity me--I had nearly gained the door, and was -beginning to breathe, when I found my path stopped by that -particular young lady of the Court whom I have described above. -Something had for the moment diverted her attention from me, and -it required a word from her companions to apprise her of my near -neighbourhood. She turned then, as one taken by surprise, and -finding me so close to her that my feet all but touched her gown, -she stepped quickly aside, and with a glance as cruel as her act, -drew her skirts away from contact with me. - -The insult stung me, I know not why, more than all the gibes -which were being flung at me from every side, and moved by a -sudden impulse I stopped, and in the bitterness of my heart spoke -to her. 'Mademoiselle,' I said, bowing low--for, as I have -stated, she was small, and more like a fairy than a woman, though -her face expressed both pride and self-will--'Mademoiselle,' I -said sternly, 'such as I am, I have fought for France! Some day -you may learn that there are viler things in the world--and have -to bear them--than a poor gentleman!' - -The words were scarcely out of my mouth before I repented of -them, for Mathurine, the fool, who was at my elbow, was quick to -turn them into ridicule. Raising her hands above our heads, as -in act to bless us, she cried out that Monsieur, having gained so -rich an office, desired a bride to grace it; and this, bringing -down upon us a coarse shout of laughter and some coarser gibes, I -saw the young girl's face flush hotly. - -The next moment a voice in the crowd cried roughly 'Out upon his -wedding suit!' and with that a sweetmeat struck me in the face. -Another and another followed, covering me with flour and comfits. -This was the last straw. For a moment, forgetting where I was, I -turned upon them, red and furious, every hair in my moustachios -bristling. The next, the full sense of my impotence and of the -folly of resentment prevailed with me, and, dropping my head upon -my breast, I rushed from the room. - -I believe that the younger among them followed me, and that the -cry of 'Old Clothes!' pursued me even to the door of my lodgings -in the Rue de la Coutellerie. But in the misery of the moment, -and my strong desire to be within doors and alone, I barely -noticed this, and am not certain whether it was so or not. - - - -CHAPTER II. - -THE KING OF NAVARRE. - -I have already referred to the danger with which the alliance -between Henry the Third and the League menaced us, an alliance -whereof the news, it was said, had blanched the King of Navarre's -moustache in a single night. Notwithstanding this, the Court had -never shown itself more frolicsome or more free from care than at -the time of which I am speaking; even the lack of money seemed -for the moment forgotten. One amusement followed another, and -though, without doubt, something was doing under the surface for -the wiser of his foes held our prince in particular dread when he -seemed most deeply sunk in pleasure--to the outward eye St. Jean -d'Angely appeared to be given over to enjoyment from one end to -the other. - -The stir and bustle of the Court reached me even in my garret, -and contributed to make that Christmas, which fell on a Sunday, a -trial almost beyond sufferance. All day long the rattle of -hoofs on the pavement, and the laughter of riders bent on -diversion, came up to me, making the hard stool seem harder, the -bare walls more bare, and increasing a hundredfold the solitary -gloom in which I sat. For as sunshine deepens the shadows which -fall athwart it, and no silence is like that which follows the -explosion of a mine, so sadness and poverty are never more -intolerable than when hope and wealth rub elbows with them. - -True, the great sermon which M. d'Amours preached in the market- -house on the morning of Christmas-day cheered me, as it cheered -all the more sober spirits. I was present myself, sitting in an -obscure corner of the building, and heard the famous prediction, -which was so soon to be fulfilled. 'Sire,' said the preacher, -turning to the King of Navarre, and referring, with the boldness -that ever characterised that great man and noble Christian, to -the attempt, then being made to exclude the prince from the -succession--'Sire, what God at your birth gave you man cannot -take away. A little while, a little patience, and you shall -cause us to preach beyond the Loire! With you for our Joshua we -shall cross the Jordan, and in the Promised Land the Church shall -be set up.' - -Words so brave, and so well adapted to encourage the Huguenots in -the crisis through which their affairs were then passing, charmed -all hearers; save indeed, those--and they were few--who, being -devoted to the Vicomte de Turenne, disliked, though they could -not controvert, this public acknowledgment of the King of -Navarre, as the Huguenot leader. The pleasure of those present -was evinced in a hundred ways, and to such an extent that even I -returned to my chamber soothed and exalted, and found, in -dreaming of the speedy triumph of the cause, some compensation -for my own ill-fortune. - -As the day wore on, however, and the evening brought no change, -but presented to me the same dreary prospect with which morning -had made me familiar, I confess without shame that my heart sank -once more, particularly as I saw that I should be forced in a day -or two to sell either my remaining horse or some part of my -equipment as essential; a step which I could not contemplate -without feelings of the utmost despair. In this state of mind I -was adding up by the light of a solitary candle the few coins I -had left, when I heard footsteps ascending the stairs. I made -them out to be the steps of two persons, and was still lost in -conjectures who they might be, when a hand knocked gently at my -door. - -Fearing another trick, I did not at once open, the more so there -was something stealthy and insinuating in the knock. Thereupon -my visitors held a whispered consultation; then they knocked -again. I asked loudly who was there, but to this they did not -choose to give any answer, while I, on my part, determined not to -open until they did. The door was strong, and I smiled grimly at -the thought that this time they would have their trouble for -their pains. - -To my surprise, however, they did not desist, and go away, as I -expected, but continued to knock at intervals and whisper much -between times. More than once they called me softly by name and -bade me open, but as they steadily refrained from saying who they -were, I sat still. Occasionally I heard them laugh, but under -their breath as it were; and persuaded by this that they were -bent on a frolic, I might have persisted in my silence until -midnight, which was not more than two hours off, had not a slight -sound, as of a rat gnawing behind the wainscot, drawn my -attention to the door. Raising my candle and shading my eyes I -espied something small and bright protruding beneath it, and -sprang up, thinking they were about to prise it in. To my -surprise, however, I could discover, on taking the candle to the -threshold, nothing more threatening than a couple of gold livres, -which had been thrust through the crevice between the door and -the floor. - -My astonishment may be conceived. I stood for full a minute -staring at the coins, the candle in my hand. Then, reflecting -that the young sparks at the Court would be very unlikely to -spend such a sum on a jest, I hesitated no longer, but putting -down the candle, drew the bolt of the door, purposing to confer -with my visitors outside. In this, however, I was disappointed, -for the moment the door was open they pushed forcibly past me -and, entering the room pell-mell, bade me by signs to close the -door again. - -I did so suspiciously, and without averting my eyes from my -visitors. Great were my embarrassment and confusion, therefore, -when, the door being shut, they dropped their cloaks one after -the other, and I saw before me M. du Mornay and the well-known -figure of the King of Navarre. - -They seemed so much diverted, looking at one another and -laughing, that for a moment I thought some chance resemblance -deceived me, and that here were my jokers again. Hence while a -man might count ten I stood staring; and the king was the first -to speak. 'We have made no mistake, Du Mornay, have we?' he -said, casting a laughing glance at me. - -'No, sire,' Du Mornay answered. 'This is the Sieur de Marsac, -the gentleman whom I mentioned to you.' - -I hastened, confused, wondering, and with a hundred apologies, to -pay my respects to the king. He speedily cut me short, however, -saying, with an air of much kindness, 'Of Marsac, in Brittany, I -think, sir?' - -'The same, sire,' - -'Then you are of the family of Bonne?' - -'I am the last survivor of that family, sire,' I answered -respectfully. - -'It has played its part,' he rejoined. and therewith he took his -seat on my stool with an easy grace which charmed me. 'Your -motto is "BONNE FOI," is it not? And Marsac, if I remember -rightly, is not far from Rennes, on the Vilaine?' - -I answered that it was, adding, with a full heart, that it -grieved me to be compelled to receive so great a prince in so -poor a lodging. - -'Well, I confess,' Du Mornay struck in, looking carelessly round -him, 'you have a queer taste, M. de Marsac, in the arrangement of -your furniture. You--' - -'Mornay!' the king cried sharply. - -'Sire?' - -'Chut! your elbow is in the candle. Beware of it!' - -But I well understood him. If my heart had been full before, it -overflowed now. Poverty is not so shameful as the shifts to -which it drives men. I had been compelled some days before, in -order to make as good a show as possible--since it is the -undoubted duty of a gentleman to hide his nakedness from -impertinent eyes, and especially from the eyes of the canaille, -who are wont to judge from externals--to remove such of my -furniture and equipage as remained to that side of the room, -which was visible from without when the door was open. This left -the farther side of the room vacant and bare. To anyone within -doors the artifice was, of course, apparent, and I am bound to -say that M. de Mornay's words brought the blood to my brow. - -I rejoiced, however a moment later that he had uttered them; for -without them I might never have known, or known so early, the -kindness of heart and singular quickness of apprehension which -ever distinguished the king, my master. So, in my heart, I began -to call him from that hour. - -The King of Navarre was at this time thirty-five years old, his -hair brown, his complexion ruddy, his moustache, on one side at -least, beginning to turn grey. His features, which Nature had -cast in a harsh and imperious mould, were relieved by a constant -sparkle and animation such as I have never seen in any other man, -but in him became ever more conspicuous in gloomy and perilous -times. Inured to danger from his earliest youth, he had come to -enjoy it as others a festival, hailing its advent with a reckless -gaiety which astonished even brave men, and led others to think -him the least prudent of mankind. Yet such he was not: nay, he -was the opposite of this. Never did Marshal of France make more -careful dispositions for a battle--albeit once in it he bore -himself like any captain of horse--nor ever did Du Mornay himself -sit down to a conference with a more accurate knowledge of -affairs. His prodigious wit and the affability of his manners, -while they endeared him to his servants, again and again blinded -his adversaries; who, thinking that so much brilliance could -arise only from a shallow nature, found when it was too late that -they had been outwitted by him whom they contemptuously styled -the Prince of Bearn, a man a hundredfold more astute than -themselves, and master alike of pen and sword. - -Much of this, which all the world now knows, I learned -afterwards. At the moment I could think of little save the -king's kindness; to which he added by insisting that I should sit -on the bed while we talked. 'You wonder, M. de Marsac,' he said, -'what brings me here, and why I have come to you instead of -sending for you? Still more, perhaps, why I have come to you at -night and with such precautions? I will tell you. But first, -that my coming may not fill you with false hopes, let me say -frankly, that though I may relieve your present necessities, -whether you fall into the plan I am going to mention, or not, I -cannot take you into my service; wherein, indeed, every post is -doubly filled. Du Mornay mentioned your name to me, but in -fairness to others I had to answer that I could do nothing.' - -I am bound to confess that this strange exordium dashed hopes -which had already risen to a high pitch. Recovering myself as -quickly as possible, however, I murmured that the honour of a -visit from the King of Navarre was sufficient happiness for me. - -'Nay, but that honour I must take from you ' he replied, smiling; -'though I see that you would make an excellent courtier--far -better than Du Mornay here, who never in his life made so pretty -a speech. For I must lay my commands on you to keep this visit a -secret, M. de Marsac. Should but the slightest whisper of it get -abroad, your usefulness, as far as I am concerned, would be gone, -and gone for good!' - -So remarkable a statement filled me with wonder I could scarcely -disguise. It was with difficulty I found words to assure the -king that his commands should be faithfully obeyed. - -'Of that I am sure,' he answered with the utmost kindness. -'Where I not, and sure, too, from what I am told of your -gallantry when my cousin took Brouage, that you are a man of -deeds rather than words, I should not be here with the -proposition I am going to lay before you. It is this. I can -give you no hope of public employment, M. de Marsac, but I can -offer you an adventure if adventures be to your taste--as -dangerous and as thankless as any Amadis ever undertook.' - -'As thankless, sire?' I stammered, doubting if I had heard -aright, the expression was so strange. - -'As thankless,' he answered, his keen eyes seeming to read my -soul. 'I am frank with you, you see, sir,' he continued, -carelessly. 'I can suggest this adventure--it is for the good of -the State--I can do no more. The King of Navarre cannot appear -in it, nor can he protect you. Succeed or fail in it, you stead -alone. The only promise I make is, that if it ever be safe for -me to acknowledge the act, I will reward the doer.' - -He paused, and for a few moments I stared at him in sheer -amazement. What did he mean? Were he and the other real -figures, or was I dreaming? - -'Do you understand?' he asked at length, with a touch of -impatience. - -'Yes, sire, I think I do,' I murmured, very certain in truth and -reality that I did not. - -'What do you say, then--yes or no?' he rejoined. 'Will you -undertake the adventure, or would you hear more before you make -up your mind?' - -I hesitated. Had I been a younger man by ten years I should -doubtless have cried assent there and then, having been all my -life ready enough to embark on such enterprises as offered a -chance of distinction. But something in the strangeness of the -king's preface, although I had it in my heart to die for him, -gave me check, and I answered, with an air of great humility, -'You will think me but a poor courtier now, sire, yet he is a -fool who jumps into a ditch without measuring the depth. I would -fain, if I may say it without disrespect, hear all that you can -tell me.' - -'Then I fear,' he answered quickly, 'if you would have more light -on the matter, my friend, you must get another candle.' - -I started, he spoke so abruptly; but perceiving that the candle -had indeed burned down to the socket, I rose, with many -apologies, and fetched another from the cupboard. It did not -occur to me at the moment, though it did later, that the king had -purposely sought this opportunity of consulting with his -companion. I merely remarked, when I returned to my place on the -bed, that they were sitting a little nearer one another, and that -the king eyed me before he spoke--though he still swung one foot -carelessly in the air with close attention. - -'I speak to you, of course, sir,' he presently went on, 'in -confidence, believing you to be an honourable as well as a brave -man. That which I wish you to do is briefly, and in a word, to -carry off a lady. Nay,' he added quickly, with a laughing -grimace, 'have no fear! She is no sweetheart of mine, nor should -I go to my grave friend here did I need assistance of that kind. -Henry of Bourbon, I pray God, will always be able to free his own -lady-love. This is a State affair, and a matter of quite another -character, though we cannot at present entrust you with the -meaning of it.' - -I bowed in silence, feeling somewhat chilled and perplexed, as -who would not, having such an invitation before him? I had -anticipated an affair with men only--a secret assault or a petard -expedition. But seeing the bareness of my room, and the honour -the king was doing me, I felt I had no choice, and I answered, -'That being the case, sire, I am wholly at your service.' - -'That is well,' he, answered briskly, though methought he looked -at Du Mornay reproachfully, as doubting his commendation of me. -'But will you say the same,' he continued, removing his eyes to -me, and speaking slowly, as though he would try me, 'when I tell -you that the lady to be carried off is the ward of the Vicomte de -Turenne, whose arm is well-nigh as long as my own, and who would -fain make it longer; who never travels, as he told me yesterday, -with less than fifty gentlemen, and has a thousand arquebusiers -in his pay? Is the adventure still to your liking, M. de Marsac, -now that you know that?' - -'It is more to my liking, sire,' I answered stoutly. - -'Understand this too,' he rejoined. 'It is essential that this -lady, who is at present confined in the Vicomte's house at Chize, -should be released; but it is equally essential that there should -be no breach between the Vicomte and myself. Therefore the -affair must be the work of an independent man, who has never been -in my service, nor in any way connected with me. If captured, -you pay the penalty without recourse to me.' - -'I fully understand, sire,' I answered. - -'Ventre Saint Gris!' he cried, breaking into a low laugh. I -swear the man is more afraid of the lady than he is of the -Vicomte! That is not the way of most of our Court.' - -Du Mornay, who had been sitting nursing his knee in silence, -pursed up his lips, though it was easy to see that he was well -content with the king's approbation. He now intervened. 'With -your permission, sire,' he said, 'I will let this gentleman know -the details.' - -'Do, my friend,' the king answered. 'And be short, for if we are -here much longer I shall be missed, and in a twinkling the Court -will have found me a new mistress.' - -He spoke in jest and with a laugh, but I saw Du Mornay start at -the words, as though they were little to his liking; and I -learned afterwards that the Court was really much exercised at -this time with the question who would be the next favourite, the -king's passion for the Countess de la Guiche being evidently on -the wane, and that which he presently evinced for Madame de -Guercheville being as yet a matter of conjecture. - -Du Mornay took no overt notice of the king's words, however, but -proceeded to give me my directions. 'Chize, which you know by -name,' he said, 'is six leagues from here. Mademoiselle de la -Vire is confined in the north-west room, on the first-floor, -overlooking the park. More I cannot tell you, except that her -woman's name is Fanchette, and that she is to be trusted. The -house is well guarded, and you will need four or five men, There -are plenty of cut-throats to be hired, only see, M. de Marsac, -that they are such as you can manage, and that Mademoiselle takes -no hurt among them. Have horses in waiting, and the moment; you -have released the lady ride north with her as fast as her -strength will permit. Indeed, you must not spare her, if Turenne -be on your heels. You should be across the Loire in sixty hours -after leaving Chize.' - -'Across the Loire?' I exclaimed in astonishment. - -'Yes, sir, across the Loire,' he replied, with some sternness. -'Your task, be good enough to understand, is to convoy -Mademoiselle de la Vire with all speed to Blois. There, -attracting as little notice as may be, you will inquire for the -Baron de Rosny at the Bleeding Heart, in the Rue de St. Denys. -He will take charge of the lady, or direct you how to dispose of -her, and your task will then be accomplished. You follow me?' - -'Perfectly,' I answered, speaking in my turn with some dryness. -'But Mademoiselle I understand is young. What if she will not -accompany me, a stranger, entering her room at night, and by the -window?' - -'That has been thought of' was the answer. He turned to the King -of Navarre, who, after a moment's search, produced a small object -from his pouch. This he gave to his companion, and the latter -transferred it to me. I took it with curiosity. It was the half -of a gold carolus, the broken edge of the coin being rough and -jagged. 'Show that to Mademoiselle, my friend,' Du Mornay -continued, 'and she will accompany you. She has the other half.' - -'But be careful,' Henry added eagerly, 'to make no mention, even -to her, of the King of Navarre. You mark me, M. de Marsac! If -you have at any time occasion to speak of me, you may have the -honour of calling me YOUR FRIEND, and referring to me always in -the same manner.' - -This he said with so gracious an air that I was charmed, and -thought myself happy indeed to be addressed in this wise by a -prince whose name was already so glorious. Nor was my -satisfaction diminished when his companion drew out a bag -containing, as he told me, three hundred crowns in gold, and -placed it in my hands, bidding me defray therefrom the cost of -the journey. 'Be careful, however,' he added earnestly, 'to -avoid, in hiring your men, any appearance of wealth, lest the -adventure seem to be suggested by some outside person; instead of -being dictated by the desperate state of your own fortunes. -Promise rather than give, so far as that will avail. And for -what you must give, let each livre seem to be the last in your -pouch.' - -Henry nodded assent. 'Excellent advice!' he muttered, rising -and drawing on his cloak, 'such as you ever give me, Mornay, and -I as seldom take--more's the pity! But, after all, of little -avail without this.' He lifted my sword from the table as he -spoke, and weighed it in his hand. 'A pretty tool,' he -continued, turning suddenly and looking me very closely in the -face. 'A very pretty tool. Were I in your place, M. de Marsac, -I would see that it hung loose in the scabbard. Ay, and more, -man, use it!' he added, sinking his voice and sticking out his -chin, while his grey eyes, looking ever closer into mine, seemed -to grow cold and hard as steel. 'Use it to the last, for if you -fall into Turenne's hands, God help you! I cannot!' - -'If I am taken, sire,' I answered, trembling, but not with fear, -'my fate be on my own head.' - -I saw the king's eyes soften, at that, and his face change so -swiftly that I scarce knew him for the same man. He let the -weapon drop with a clash on the table. 'Ventre Saint Gris!' he -exclaimed with a strange thrill of yearning in his tone. 'I -swear by God, I would I were in your shoes, sir. To strike a -blow or two with no care what came of it. To take the road with -a good horse and a good sword, and see what fortune would send. -To be rid of all this statecraft and protocolling, and never to -issue another declaration in this world, but just to be for once -a Gentleman of France, with all to win and nothing to lose save -the love of my lady! Ah! Mornay, would it not be sweet to leave -all this fret and fume, and ride away to the green woods by -Coarraze?' - -'Certainly, if you prefer them to the Louvre, sire,' Du Mornay -answered drily; while I stood, silent and amazed, before this -strange man, who could so suddenly change from grave to gay, and -one moment spoke so sagely, and the next like any wild lad in his -teens. 'Certainly,' he answered, 'if that be your choice, sire; -and if you think that even there the Duke of Guise will leave you -in peace. Turenne, I am sure, will be glad to hear of your -decision. Doubtless he will be elected Protector of the -Churches. Nay, sire, for shame!' Du Mornay continued almost -with sternness. 'Would you leave France, which at odd times I -have heard you say you loved, to shift for herself? Would you -deprive her of the only man who does love her for her own sake?' - -'Well, well, but she is such a fickle sweetheart, my friend,' the -king answered, laughing, the side glance of his eye on me. -'Never was one so coy or so hard to clip! And, besides, has not -the Pope divorced us?' - -'The Pope! A fig for the Pope!' Du Mornay rejoined with -impatient heat. 'What has he to do with France? An impertinent -meddler, and an Italian to boot! I would he and all the brood of -them were sunk a hundred fathoms deep in the sea. But, meantime, -I would send him a text to digest.' - -'EXEMPLUM?' said the king. - -'Whom God has joined together let no man put asunder.' - -'Amen! quoth Henry softly. 'And France is a fair and comely -bride.' - -After that he kept such a silence, falling as it seemed to me -into a brown study, that he went away without so much as bidding -me farewell, or being conscious, as far as I could tell, of my -presence. Du Mornay exchanged a few words with me, to assure -himself that I understood what I had to do, and then, with many -kind expressions, which I did not fail to treasure up and con -over in the times that were coming, hastened downstairs after -his master. - -My joy when I found myself alone may be conceived. Yet was it no -ecstasy, but a sober exhilaration; such as stirred my pulses -indeed, and bade me once more face the world with a firm eye and -an assured brow, but was far from holding out before me a -troubadour's palace or any dazzling prospect. The longer I dwelt -on the interview, the more clearly I saw the truth. As the -glamour which Henry's presence and singular kindness had cast -over me began to lose some of its power, I recognised more and -more surely why he had come to me. It was not out of any special -favour for one whom he knew by report only, if at all by name; -but because he had need of a man poor, and therefore reckless, -middle-aged (of which comes discretion), obscure--therefore a -safe instrument; to crown all, a gentleman, seeing that both a -secret and a women were in question. - -Withal I wondered too. Looking from the bag of money on the -table to the broken coin in my hand, I scarcely knew which to -admire more: the confidence which entrusted the one to a man -broken and beggared, or the courage of the gentlewoman who should -accompany me on the faith of the other. - - - -CHAPTER III. - -BOOT AND SADDLE. - -As was natural, I meditated deeply and far into the night on the -difficulties of the task, entrusted to me. I saw that it fell -into two parts: the release of the lady, and her safe conduct to -Blois, a distance of sixty leagues. The release I thought it -probable I could effect single-handed, or with one companion -only; but in the troubled condition of the country at this time, -more particularly on both sides of the Loire, I scarcely saw how -I could ensure a lady's safety on the road northwards unless I -had with me at least five swords. - -To get these together at a few hours' notice promised to be no -easy task; although the presence of the Court of Navarre had -filled St. Jean with a crowd of adventurers. Yet the king's -command was urgent, and at some sacrifice, even at some risk, -must be obeyed. Pressed by these considerations, I could think -of no better man to begin with than Fresnoy. - -His character was bad, and he had long forfeited such claim as he -had ever possessed--I believe it was a misty one, on the distaff -side--to gentility. But the same cause which had rendered me -destitute I mean the death of the prince of Conde--had stripped -him to the last rag; and this, perhaps, inclining me to serve -him, I was the more quick to see his merits. I knew him already -for a hardy, reckless man, very capable of striking a shrewd -blow. I gave him credit for being trusty, as long as his duty -jumped with his interest. - -Accordingly, as soon as it was light, having fed and groomed the -Cid, which was always the first employment of my day, I set out -in search of Fresnoy, and was presently lucky enough to find him -taking his morning draught outside the 'Three Pigeons,' a little -inn not far from the north gate. It was more than a fortnight -since I had set eyes on him, and the lapse of time had worked so -great a change for the worse in him that, forgetting my own -shabbiness, I looked at him askance, as doubting the wisdom of -enlisting one who bore so plainly the marks of poverty and -dissipation. His great face--he was a large man--had suffered -recent ill-usage, and was swollen and discoloured, one eye being -as good as closed. He was unshaven, his hair was ill-kempt, his -doublet unfastened at the throat, and torn and stained besides. -Despite the cold--for the morning was sharp and frosty, though -free from wind--there were half a dozen packmen drinking and -squabbling before the inn, while the beasts they drove quenched -their thirst at the trough. But these men seemed with one accord -to leave him in possession of the bench at which he sat; nor did -I wonder much at this when I saw the morose and savage glance -which he shot at me as I approached. Whether he read my first -impressions in my face, or for some other reason felt distaste -for my company, I could not determine. But, undeterred by his -behaviour, I sat down beside him and called for wine. - -He nodded sulkily in answer to my greeting, and cast a half- -shamed, half-angry look at me out of the corners of his eyes. -'You need not look at me as though I were a dog,' he muttered -presently. 'You are not so very spruce yourself, my friend. But -I suppose you have grown proud since you got that fat appointment -at Court!' And he laughed out loud, so that I confess I was in -two minds whether I should not force the jest down his ugly -throat. - -However I restrained myself, though my cheeks burned. 'You have -heard about it, then,' I said, striving to speak indifferently. - -'Who has not?' he said, laughing with his lips, though his eyes -were far from merry. 'The Sieur de Marsac's appointment! Ha! -ha! Why, man--' - -'Enough of it now!' I exclaimed. And I dare say I writhed on my -seat. 'As far as I am concerned the jest is a stale one, sir, -and does not amuse me.' - -'But it amuses me,' he rejoined with a grin. - -'Let it be, nevertheless,' I said; and I think he read a warning -in my eyes. 'I have come to speak to you upon another matter.' - -He did not refuse to listen, but threw one leg over the other, -and looking up at the inn-sign began to whistle in a rude, -offensive manner. Still, having an object in view, I controlled -myself and continued. 'It is this, my friend: money is not very -plentiful at present with either of us.' - -Before I could say any more he turned on me savagely, and with a -loud oath thrust his bloated face, flushed with passion, close to -mine. 'Now look here, M. de Marsac!' he cried violently, 'once -for all, it is no good! I have not got the money, and I cannot -pay it. I said a fortnight ago, when you lent it, that you -should have it this week. Well,' slapping his hand on the bench, -I have not got it, and it is no good beginning upon me. You -cannot have it, and that is flat!' - -'Damn the money!' I cried. - -'What?' he exclaimed, scarcely believing his ears. - -'Let the money be!' I repeated fiercely. 'Do you hear? I have -not come about it, I am here to offer you work--good, well-paid -work--if you will enlist with me and play me fair, Fresnoy.' - -'Play fair!' he cried with an oath. - -'There, there,' I said, 'I am willing to let bygones be bygones -if you are. The point is, that I have an adventure on hand, and, -wanting help, can pay you for it.' - -He looked at me cunningly, His eye travelling over each rent and -darn in my doublet. 'I will help you fast enough,' he said at -last. 'But I should like to see the money first.' - -'You shall,' I answered. - -'Then I am with you, my friend. Count on me till death!' he -cried, rising and laying his hand in mine with a boisterous -frankness which did not deceive me into trusting him far. 'And -now, whose is the affair, and what is it?' - -'The affair is mine,' I said coldly. 'It is to carry off a -lady.' - -He whistled and looked me over again, an impudent leer in his -eyes. 'A lady?' he exclaimed. 'Umph! I could understand a -young spark going in for such--but that's your affair. Who is -it?' - -'That is my affair, too,' I answered coolly, disgusted by the -man's venality and meanness, and fully persuaded that I must -trust him no farther than the length of my sword. 'All I want -you to do, M. Fresnoy,' I continued stiffly, 'is to place -yourself at my disposal and under my orders for ten days. I will -find you a horse and pay you--the enterprise is a hazardous one, -and I take that into account--two gold crowns a day, and ten more -if we succeed in reaching a place of safety.' - -'Such a place as--' - -'Never mind that,' I replied. 'The question is, do you accept?' - -He looked down sullenly, and I could see he was greatly angered -by my determination to keep the matter to myself. 'Am I to know -no more than that?' he asked, digging the point of his scabbard -again and again into the ground. - -'No more,' I answered firmly. 'I am bent on a desperate attempt -to mend my fortunes before they fall as low as yours; and that is -as much as I mean to tell living man. If you are loth to risk -your life with your eyes shut, say so, and I will go to someone -else.' - -But he was not in a position, as I well knew, to refuse such an -offer, and presently he accepted it with a fresh semblance of -heartiness. I told him I should want four troopers to escort us, -and these he offered to procure, saying that he knew just the -knaves to suit me. I bade him hire two only, however, being too -wise, to put myself altogether in his hands; and then, having -given him money to buy himself a horse--I made it a term that the -men should bring their own--and named a rendezvous for the first -hour after noon, I parted from him and went rather sadly away. - -For I began to see that the king had not underrated the dangers -of an enterprise on which none but desperate men and such as were -down in the world could be expected to embark. Seeing this, and -also a thing which followed clearly from it--that I should have -as much to fear from my own company as from the enemy--I looked -forward with little hope to a journey during every day and every -hour of which I must bear a growing weight of fear and -responsibility. - -It was too late to turn back, however, and I went about my -preparations, if with little cheerfulness, at least with -steadfast purpose. I had my sword ground and my pistols put in -order by the cutler over whom I lodged, and who performed this -last office for me with the same goodwill which had -characterised, all his dealings with me. I sought out and hired -a couple of stout fellows whom I believed to be indifferently -honest, but who possessed the advantage of having horses; and -besides bought two led horses myself for mademoiselle and her -woman. Such other equipments as were absolutely necessary I -purchased, reducing my stock of money in this way to two hundred -and ten crowns. How to dispose of this sum so that it might be -safe and yet at my command was a question which greatly exercised -me. In the end I had recourse to my friend the cutler, who -suggested hiding a hundred crowns of it in my cap, and deftly -contrived a place for the purpose. This, the cap being lined -with steel, was a matter of no great difficulty. A second -hundred I sewed up in the stuffing of my saddle, placing the -remainder in my pouch for present necessities. - -A small rain was falling in the streets when, a little after -noon, I started with my two knaves behind me and made for the -north gate. So many were moving this way and the other that we -passed unnoticed, and might have done so had we numbered six -swords instead of three. When we reached the rendezvous, a mile -beyond the gate, we found Fresnoy already there, taking shelter -in the lee of a big holly-tree. He had four horsemen with him, -and on our appearance rode forward to meet us, crying heartily, -'Welcome, M. le Capitaine!' - -'Welcome, certainly,' I answered, pulling the Cid up sharply, and -holding off from him. 'But who are these, M. Fresnoy?' and I -pointed with my riding-cane to his four companions. - -He tried to pass the matter off with a laugh. 'Oh! these?' he -said. 'That is soon explained. The Evangelists would not be -divided, so I brought them all--Matthew Mark, Luke, and John-- -thinking it likely you might fail to secure your men. And I will -warrant them for four as gallant boys as you will ever find -behind you!' - -They were certainly four as arrant ruffians as I had ever seen -before me, and I saw I must not hesitate. 'Two or none, M. -Fresnoy,' I said firmly. 'I gave you a commission for two, and -two I will take--Matthew and Mark, or Luke and John, as you -please.' - -''Tis a pity to break the party,' said he, scowling. - -'If that be all,' I retorted, 'one of my men is called John. And -we will dub the other Luke, if that will mend the matter.' - -'The Prince of Conde,' he muttered sullenly, 'employed these -men.' - -'The Prince of Conde employed some queer people sometimes, M. -Fresnoy,' I answered, looking him straight between the eyes, 'as -we all must. A truce to this, if you please. We will take -Matthew and Mark. The other two be good enough to dismiss.' - -He seemed to waver for a moment, as if he had a mind to disobey, -but in the end, thinking better of it, he bade the men return; -and as I complimented each of them with a piece of silver, they -went off, after some swearing, in tolerably good humour. Thereon -Fresnoy was for taking the road at once, but having no mind to be -followed, I gave the word to wait until the two were out of -sight. - -I think, as we sat our horses in the rain, the holly-bush not -being large enough to shelter us all, we were as sorry a band as -ever set out to rescue a lady; nor was it without pain that I -looked round and saw myself reduced to command such people. -There was scarcely one whole unpatched garment among us, and -three of my squires had but a spur apiece. To make up for this -deficiency we mustered two black eyes, Fresnoy's included, and a -broken nose. Matthew's nag lacked a tail, and, more remarkable -still, its rider, as I presently discovered, was stone-deaf; -while Mark's sword was innocent of a scabbard, and his bridle was -plain rope. One thing, indeed, I observed with pleasure. The -two men who had come with me looked askance at the two who had -come with Fresnoy, and these returned the stare with interest. -On this division and on the length of my sword I based all my -hopes of safety and of something more. On it I was about to -stake, not my own life only--which was no great thing, seeing -what my prospects were--but the life and honour of a woman, -young, helpless, and as yet unknown to me. - -Weighed down as I was by these considerations, I had to bear the -additional burden of hiding my fears and suspicions under a -cheerful demeanour. I made a short speech to my following, who -one and all responded by swearing to stand by me to the death. I -then gave the word, and we started, Fresnoy and I leading the -way, Luke and John with the led horses following, and the other -two bringing up the rear. - -The rain continuing to fall and the country in this part being -dreary and monotonous, even in fair weather, I felt my spirits -sink still lower as the day advanced. The responsibility I was -going to incur assumed more serious proportions each time I -scanned my following; while Fresnoy, plying me with perpetual -questions respecting my plans, was as uneasy a companion as my -worst enemy could have wished me. - -'Come!' he grumbled presently, when we had covered four leagues -or so, 'you have not told me yet, sieur, where we stay to-night. -You are travelling so slowly that--' - -'I am saving the horses,' I answered shortly. 'We shall do a -long day to-morrow.' - -'Yours looks fit for a week of days,' he sneered, with an evil -look at my Sardinian, which was, indeed, in better case than its -master. 'It is sleek enough, any way!' - -'It is as good as it looks,' I answered, a little nettled by his -tone. - -'There is a better here,' he responded. - -'I don't see it,' I said. I had already eyed the nags all round, -and assured myself that, ugly and blemished as they were, they -were up to their work. But I had discerned no special merit -among them. I looked them over again now, and came to the same -conclusion--that, except the led horses, which I had chosen with -some care, there was nothing among them to vie with the Cid, -either in speed or looks. I told Fresnoy so. - -'Would you like to try?' he said tauntingly. - -I laughed, adding, 'If you think I am going to tire our horses by -racing them, with such work as we have before us, you are -mistaken, Fresnoy. I am not a boy, you know.' - -'There need be no question of racing,' he answered more quietly. -'You have only to get on that rat-tailed bay of Matthew's to feel -its paces and say I am right.' - -I looked at the bay, a bald-faced, fiddle-headed horse, and saw -that, with no signs of breeding, it was still a big-boned animal -with good shoulders and powerful hips. I thought it possible -Fresnoy might be right, and if so, and the bay's manners were -tolerable, it might do for mademoiselle better than the horse I -had chosen. At any rate, if we had a fast horse among us, it was -well to know the fact, so bidding Matthew change with me, and be -careful of the Cid, I mounted the bay, and soon discovered that -its paces were easy and promised speed, while its manners seemed -as good as even a timid rider could desire. - -Our road at the time lay across a flat desolate heath, dotted -here and there with, thorn-bushes; the track being broken and -stony, extended more than a score of yards in width, through -travellers straying to this side and that to escape the worst -places. Fresnoy and I, in making the change, had fallen slightly -behind the other three, and were riding abreast of Matthew on the -Cid. - -'Well,' he said, 'was I not right?' - -'In part,' I answered. 'The horse is better than its looks.' - -'Like many others,' he rejoined, a spark of resentment in his -tone--'men as well as horses, M. de Marsac. But What do you say? -Shall we canter on a little and overtake the others?' - -Thinking it well to do so, I assented readily, and we started -together. We had ridden, however, no more than a hundred yards, -and I was only beginning to extend the bay, when Fresnoy, -slightly drawing rein, turned in his saddle and looked back. The -next moment he cried, 'Hallo! what is this? Those fellows are -not following us, are they?' - -I turned sharply to look. At that moment, without falter or -warning, the bay horse went down under me as if shot dead, -throwing me half a dozen yards over its head; and that so -suddenly that I had no time to raise my arms, but, falling -heavily on my head and shoulder, lost consciousness. - -I have had many falls, but no other to vie with that in utter -unexpectedness. When I recovered my senses I found myself -leaning, giddy and sick, against the bole of an old thorn-tree. -Fresnoy and Matthew supported me on either side, and asked me how -I found myself; while the other three men, their forms black -against the stormy evening sky, sat their horses a few paces in -front of me. I was too much dazed at first to see more, and this -only in a mechanical fashion; but gradually, my brain grew -clearer, and I advanced from wondering who the strangers round me -were to recognising them, and finally to remembering what had -happened to me. - -'Is the horse hurt?' I muttered as soon as I could speak. - -'Not a whit,' Fresnoy answered, chuckling, or I was much -mistaken. 'I am afraid you came off the worse of the two, -captain.' - -He exchanged a look with the men on horseback as he spoke, and in -a dull fashion I fancied I saw them smile. One even laughed, and -another turned in his saddle as if to hide his face. I had a -vague general sense that there was some joke on foot in which I -had no part. But I was too much shaken at the moment to be -curious, and gratefully accepted the offer of one, of the men to -fetch me a little water. While he was away the rest stood round -me, the same look of ill-concealed drollery on their faces. -Fresnoy alone talked, speaking volubly of the accident, pouring -out expressions of sympathy and cursing the road, the horse, and -the wintry light until the water came; when, much refreshed by -the draught, I managed to climb to the Cid's saddle and plod -slowly onwards with them. - -'A bad beginning,' Fresnoy said presently, stealing a sly glance -at me as we jogged along side by side, Chize half a league before -us, and darkness not far off. - -By this time, however, I was myself again, save for a little -humming is the head, and, shrugging my shoulders, I told him so. -'All's well that ends well,' I added. 'Not that it was a -pleasant fall, or that I wish to have such another.' - -'No, I should think not,' he answered. His face was turned from -me, but I fancied I heard him snigger. - -Something, which may have been a vague suspicion, led me a moment -later to put my hand into my pouch. Then I understood. I -understood too well. The sharp surprise of the discovery was -such that involuntarily I drove my spurs into the Cid, and the -horse sprang forward. - -'What is the matter?' Fresnoy asked. - -'The matter?' I echoed, my hand still at my belt, feeling ---feeling hopelessly. - -'Yes, what is it?' he asked, a brazen smile on his rascally -face. - -I looked at him, my brow as red as fire. 'Oh! nothing ---nothing,' I said. 'Let us trot on.' - -In truth I had discovered that, taking advantage of my -helplessness, the scoundrels had robbed me, while I lay -insensible, of every gold crown in my purse! Nor was this all, -or the worst, for I saw at once that in doing so they had -effected something which was a thousandfold more ominous and -formidable--established against me that secret understanding -which it was my especial aim to prevent, and on the absence of -which I had been counting. Nay, I saw that for my very life I -had only my friend the cutler and my own prudence to thank, -seeing that these rogues would certainly have murdered me without -scruple had they succeeded in finding the bulk of my money. -Baffled in this, while still persuaded that I had other -resources, they had stopped short of that villany--or this memoir -had never been written. They had kindly permitted me to live -until a more favourable opportunity of enriching themselves at my -expense should put them in possession of my last crown! - -Though I was sufficiently master of myself to refrain from -complaints which I felt must be useless, and from menaces which -it has never been my habit to utter unless I had also the power -to put them into execution, it must not be imagined that I did -not, as I rode on by Fresnoy's side, feel my position acutely or -see how absurd a figure I cut in my dual character of leader and -dupe. Indeed, the reflection that, being in this perilous -position, I was about to stake another's safety as well as my -own, made me feel the need of a few minutes' thought so urgent -that I determined to gain them, even at the risk of leaving my -men at liberty to plot further mischief. Coming almost -immediately afterwards within sight, of the turrets of the -Chateau of Chize, I told Fresnoy that we should lie the night at -the village; and bade him take the men on and secure quarters at -the inn. Attacked instantly by suspicion and curiosity, he -demurred stoutly to leaving me, and might have persisted in his -refusal had I not pulled up, and clearly shown him that I would -have my own way in this case or come to an open breach. He -shrank, as I expected, from the latter alternative, and, bidding -me a sullen adieu, trotted on with his troop. I waited until -they were out of sight, and then, turning the Cid's head, crossed -a small brook which divided the road from the chase, and choosing -a ride which seemed to pierce the wood in the direction of the -Chateau, proceeded down it, keeping a sharp look-out on either -hand. - -It was then, my thoughts turning to the lady who was now so near, -and who, noble, rich, and a stranger, seemed, as I approached -her, not the least formidable of the embarrassments before me--it -was then that I made a discovery which sent a cold shiver through -my frame, and in a moment swept all memory of my paltry ten -crowns from my head. Ten crowns! Alas! I had lost that which -was worth all my crowns put together--the broken coin which the -King of Navarre had entrusted to me, and which formed my sole -credential, my only means of persuading Mademoiselle de la Vire -that I came from him. I had put it in my pouch, and of course, -though the loss of it only came home to my mind now, it had -disappeared with the rest. - -I drew rein and sat for some time motionless, the image of -despair. The wind which stirred the naked boughs overhead, and -whirled the dead leaves in volleys past my feet, and died away at -last among the whispering bracken, met nowhere with wretchedness -greater, I believe, than was mine at that moment. - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE. - -My first desperate impulse on discovering the magnitude of my -loss was to ride after the knaves and demand the token at the -sword's point. The certainty, however, of finding them united, -and the difficulty of saying which of the five possessed what I -wanted, led me to reject this plan as I grew cooler; and since I -did not dream, even in this dilemma, of abandoning the expedition -the only alternative seemed to be to act as if I still had the -broken coin, and essay what a frank explanation might effect when -the time came. - -After some wretched, very wretched, moments of debate, I resolved -to adopt this course; and, for the present, thinking I might gain -some knowledge of the surroundings while the light lasted, I -pushed cautiously forward through the trees and came in less than -five minutes within sight of a corner of the chateau, which I -found to be a modern building of the time of Henry II., raised, -like the houses of that time, for pleasure rather than defence, -and decorated with many handsome casements and tourelles. -Despite this, it wore, as I saw it, a grey and desolate air, due -in part to the loneliness of the situation and the lateness of -the hour; and in part, I think, to the smallness of the household -maintained, for no one was visible on the terrace or at the -windows. The rain dripped from the trees, which on two sides -pressed so closely on the house as almost to darken the rooms, -and everything I saw encouraged me to hope that mademoiselle's -wishes would second my entreaties, and incline her to lend a -ready ear to my story. - -The appearance of the house, indeed, was a strong inducement to -me to proceed, for it was impossible to believe that a young -lady, a kinswoman of the gay and vivacious Turenne, and already -introduced to the pleasures of the Court, would elect of her own -free will to spend the winter in so dreary a solitude. - -Taking advantage of the last moments of daylight, I rode -cautiously round the house, and, keeping in the shadow of the -trees, had no difficulty in discovering at the north-east corner -the balcony of which I had been told. It was semi-circular in -shape, with a stone balustrade, and hung some fifteen feet above -a terraced walk which ran below it, and was separated from the -chase by a low sunk fence. - -I was surprised to observe that, notwithstanding the rain and the -coldness of the evening, the window which gave upon this balcony -was open. Nor was this all. Luck was in store for me at last. -I had not gazed at the window more than a minute, calculating its -height and other particulars, when, to my great joy, a female -figure, closely hooded, stepped out and stood looking up at the -sky. I was too far off to be able to discern by that uncertain -light whether this was Mademoiselle de la Vire or her woman; but -the attitude was so clearly one of dejection and despondency, -that I felt sure it was either one or the other. Determined not -to let the opportunity slip, I dismounted hastily and, leaving -the Cid loose, advanced on foot until I stood within half-a-dozen -paces of the window. - -At that point the watcher became aware of me. She started back, -but did not withdraw. Still peering down at me, she called -softly to some one inside the chamber, and immediately a second -figure, taller and stouter, appeared. I had already doffed my -cap, and I now, in a low voice, begged to know if I had the -honour of speaking to Mademoiselle de la Vire. In the growing -darkness it was impossible to distinguish faces. - -'Hush!' the stouter figure muttered in a tone of warning. 'Speak -lower. Who are you, and what do you here?' - -'I am here,' I answered respectfully, 'commissioned by a friend -of the lady I have named, to convey her to a place of safety.' - -'Mon dieu!' was the sharp answer. 'Now? It is impossible.' - -'No,' I murmured, 'not now, but to-night. The moon rises at -half-past two. My horses need rest and food. At three I will be -below this window with the means of escape, if mademoiselle -choose to use them.' - -I felt that they were staring at me through the dusk, as though -they would read my breast. 'Your name, sir?' the shorter figure -murmured at last, after a pause which was full of suspense and -excitement. - -'I do not think my name of much import at present, Mademoiselle,' -I answered, reluctant to proclaim myself a stranger. 'When--' - -'Your name, your name, sir!' she repeated imperiously, and I -heard her little heel rap upon the stone floor of the balcony. - -'Gaston de Marsac,' I answered unwillingly. - -They both started, and cried out together. 'Impossible!' the -last speaker exclaimed, amazement and anger in her tone, 'This is -a jest, sir. This--' - -What more she would have said I was left to guess, for at that -moment her attendant I had no doubt now which was mademoiselle -and which Fanchette--suddenly laid her hand on her mistress's -mouth and pointed to the room behind them. A second's suspense, -and with a wanting gesture the two turned and disappeared through -the window. - -I lost no time in regaining the shelter of the trees; and -concluding, though I was far from satisfied with the interview, -that I could do nothing more now, but might rather, by loitering -in the neighbourhood, awaken suspicion, I remounted and made for -the highway and the village, where I found my men in noisy -occupation of the inn, a poor place, with unglazed windows, and a -fire in the middle of the earthen floor. My first care wets to -stable the Cid in a shed at the back, where I provided for its -wants as far as I could with the aid of a half-naked boy, who -seemed to be in hiding there. - -This done, I returned to the front of the house, having pretty -well made up my mind how I would set about the task before me. -As I passed one of the windows, which was partially closed by a -rude curtain made of old sacks, I stopped to look in. Fresnoy -and his four rascals were seated on blocks of wood round the -hearth, talking loudly and fiercely, and ruffling it as if the -fire and the room were their own. A pedlar, seated on his goods -in one corner, was eyeing them with evident fear and suspicion; -in another corner two children had taken refuge under a donkey, -which some fowls had chosen as a roosting-pole. The innkeeper, a -sturdy fellow, with a great club in his fist, sat moodily at the -foot of a ladder which led to the loft above, while a slatternly -woman, who was going to and fro getting supper, seemed in equal -terror of her guests and her good man. - -Confirmed by what I saw, and assured that the villains were ripe -for any mischief, and, if not checked, would speedily be beyond -my control, I noisily flung the door open and entered. Fresnoy -looked up with a sneer as I did so, and one of the men laughed. -The others became silent; but no one moved or greeted me. -Without a moment's hesitation I stepped to the nearest fellow -and, with a sturdy kick, sent his log from under him. 'Rise, you -rascal, when I enter!' I cried, giving vent to the anger I had -long felt. 'And you, too!' and with a second kick I sent his -neighbour's stool flying also, and administered a couple of cuts -with my riding-cane across the man's shoulders. 'Have you no -manners, sirrah? Across with you, and leave this side to your -betters.' - -The two rose, snarling and feeling for their weapons, and for a -moment stood facing me, looking now at me and now askance at -Fresnoy. But as he gave no sign, and their comrades only -laughed, the men's courage failed them at the pinch, and with a -very poor grace they sneaked over to the other side of the fire -and sat there, scowling. - -I seated myself beside their leader. 'This gentleman and I will -eat here,' I cried to the man at the foot of the ladder. 'Bid -your wife lay for us, and of the best you have; and do you give -those knaves their provender where the smell of their greasy -jackets will not come between us and our victuals.' - -The man came forward, glad enough, as I saw, to discover any one -in authority, and very civilly began to draw wine and place a -board for us, while his wife filled our platters from the black -pot which hung over the fire. Fresnoy's face meanwhile wore the -amused smile of one who comprehended my motives, but felt -sufficiently sure of his position and influence with his -followers to be indifferent to my proceedings. I presently -showed him, however, that I had not yet done with him. Our table -was laid in obedience to my orders at such a distance from the -men that they could not overhear our talk, and by-and-by I leant -over to him. - -'M. Fresnoy,' I said, 'you are in danger of forgetting one thing, -I fancy, which it behoves you to remember.' - -'What?' he muttered, scarcely deigning to look up at me. - -'That you have to do with Gaston de Marsac,' I answered quietly. -'I am making, as I told you this morning, a last attempt to -recruit my fortunes, and I will let no man--no man, do you -understand, M. Fresnoy?--thwart me and go harmless.' - -'Who wishes to thwart you?' he asked impudently. - -'You,' I answered unmoved, helping myself, as I spoke, from the -roll of black bread which lay beside me. 'You robbed me this -afternoon; I passed it over. You encouraged those men to be -insolent; I passed it over. But let me tell you this. If you -fail me to-night, on the honour of a gentleman, M. Fresnoy, I -will run you through as I would spit a lark.' - -'Will you? But two can play at that game,' he cried, rising -nimbly from his stool. 'Still better six! Don't you think, M. -de Marsac, you had better have waited--?' - -'I think you had better hear one word more,' I answered coolly, -keeping my seat, 'before you appeal to your fellows there.' - -'Well,' he said, still standing, 'what is it?' - -'Nay,' I replied, after once more pointing to his stool in vain, -'if you prefer to take my orders standing, well and good.' - -'Your orders?' he shrieked, growing suddenly excited. - -'Yes, my orders!' I retorted, rising as suddenly to my feet and -hitching forward my sword. 'My orders, sir,' I repeated -fiercely, 'or, if you dispute my right to command as well as to -pay this party, let us decide the question here and now--you and -I, foot to foot, M. Fresnoy.' - -The quarrel flashed up so suddenly, though I had been preparing -it all along, that no one moved. The woman indeed, fell back to -her children, but the rest looked on open-mouthed. Had they -stirred, or had a moment's hurly-burly heated his blood, I doubt -not Fresnoy would have taken up my challenge, for he did not lack -hardihood. But as it was, face to face with me in the silence, -his courage failed him. He paused, glowering at me uncertainly, -and did not speak. - -'Well,' I said, 'don't you think that if I pay I ought to give -orders, sir?' - -'Who wishes to oppose your orders?' he muttered, drinking off a -bumper, and sitting down with an air of impudent bravado, assumed -to hide his discomfiture. - -'If you don't, no one else does,' I answered. So that is -settled. Landlord, some more wine.' - -He was very sulky with me for a while, fingering his glass in -silence and scowling at the table. He had enough gentility to -feel the humiliation to which he had exposed himself, and a -sufficiency of wit to understand that that moment's hesitation -had cost him the allegiance of his fellow-ruffians. I hastened, -therefore, to set him at his ease by explaining my plans for the -night, and presently succeeded beyond my hopes; for when he heard -who the lady was whom I proposed to carry off, and that she was -lying that evening at the Chateau de Chize, his surprise swept -away the last trace of resentment. He stared at me, as at a -maniac. - -'Mon Dieu!' he exclaimed. 'Do you know what you are doing, -Sieur?' - -'I think so,' I answered. - -'Do you know to whom the chateau belongs?' - -'To the Vicomte de Turenne.' - -'And that Mademoiselle de la Vire is his relation?' - -'Yes,' I said. - -'Mon Dieu!' he exclaimed again. And he looked at me open- -mouthed. - -'What is the matter?' I asked, though I had an uneasy -consciousness that I knew--that I knew very well. - -'Man, he will crush you as I crush this hat!' he answered in -great excitement. 'As easily. Who do you think will protect you -from him in a private quarrel of this kind? Navarre? France? -our good man? Not one of them. You had better steal the king's -crown jewels--he is weak; or Guise's last plot--he is generous at -times, or Navarre's last sweetheart--he is as easy as an old -shoe. You had better have to do with all these together, I tell -you, than touch Turenne's ewe-lambs, unless your aim be to be -broken on the wheel! Mon Dieu, yes!' - -'I am much obliged to you for your advice,' I said stiffly, 'but -the die is cast. My mind is made up. On the other hand, if you -are afraid, M. Fresnoy--' - -'I am afraid; very much afraid,' he answered frankly. - -'Still your name need not be brought into the matter,' I replied, -'I will take the responsibility. I will let them know my name -here at the inn, where, doubtless, inquiries will be made.' - -'To be sure, that is something,' he answered. thoughtfully. -'Well, it is an ugly business, but I am in for it. You want me -to go with you a little after two, do you? and the others to be -in the saddle at three? Is that it?' - -I assented, pleased to find him so far acquiescent; and in this -way, talking the details over more than once, we settled our -course, arranging to fly by way of Poitiers and Tours. Of course -I did not tell him why I selected Blois as our refuge, nor what -was my purpose there; though he pressed me more than once on the -point, and grew thoughtful and somewhat gloomy when I continually -evaded it. A little after eight we retired to the loft to sleep; -our men remaining below round the fire and snoring so merrily as -almost to shake the crazy old building. The host was charged to -sit up and call us as soon as the moon rose, but, as it turned -out, I might as well have taken this office on myself, for -between excitement and distrust I slept little, and was wide -awake when I heard his step on the ladder and knew it was time to -rise. - -I was up in a moment, and Fresnoy was little behind me; so that, -losing no time in talk, we were mounted and on the road, each -with a spare horse at his knee, before the moon was well above -the trees. Once in the Chase we found it necessary to proceed on -foot, but, the distance being short, we presently emerged without -misadventure and stood opposite to the chateau, the upper part of -which shone cold and white in the moon's rays. - -There was something so solemn in the aspect of the place, the -night being fine and the sky without a cloud, that I stood for a -minute awed and impressed, the sense of the responsibility I was -here to accept strong upon me. In that short space of time all -the dangers before me, as well the common risks of the road as -the vengeance of Turenne and the turbulence of my own men, -presented themselves to my mind, and made a last appeal to me to -turn back from an enterprise so foolhardy. The blood in a man's -veins runs low and slow at that hour, and mine was chilled by -lack of sleep and the wintry air. It needed the remembrance of -my solitary condition, of my past spent in straits and failure, -of the grey hairs which swept my cheek, of the sword which I had -long used honourably, if with little profit to myself; it needed -the thought of all these things to restore me to courage and -myself. - -I judged at a later period that my companion was affected in -somewhat the same way; for, as I stooped to press home the pegs -which I had brought to tether the horses, he laid his hand on my -arm. Glancing up to see what he wanted, I was struck by the wild -look in his face (which the moonlight invested with a peculiar -mottled pallor), and particularly in his eyes, which glittered -like a madman's. He tried to speak, but seemed to find a -difficulty in doing so; and I had to question him roughly before -he found his tongue. When he did speak, it was only to implore -me in an odd, excited manner to give up the expedition and -return. - -'What, now?' I said, surprised. 'Now we are here, Fresnoy?' - -'Ay, give it up!' he cried, shaking me almost fiercely by the -arm. 'Give it up, man! It will end badly, I tell you! In God's -name, give it up, and go home before worse comes of it.' - -'Whatever comes of it,' I answered coldly, shaking his grasp from -my arm, and wondering much at this sudden fit of cowardice, 'I go -on. You, M. Fresnoy, may do as you please!' - -He started and drew back from me; but he did not reply, nor did -he speak again. When I presently went off to fetch a ladder, of -the position of which I had made a note during the afternoon, he -accompanied me, and followed me back in the same dull silence to -the walk below the balcony. I had looked more than once and -eagerly at mademoiselle's window without any light or movement in -that quarter rewarding my vigilance; but, undeterred by this, -which might mean either that my plot was known, or that -Mademoiselle de la Vire distrusted me, I set the ladder softly -against the balcony, which was in deep shadow, and paused only to -give Fresnoy his last instructions. These were simply to stand -on guard at the foot of the ladder and defend it in case of -surprise; so that, whatever happened inside the chateau, my -retreat by the window might not be cut off. - -Then I went cautiously up the ladder, and, with my sheathed sword -in my left hand, stepped over the balustrade. Taking one pace -forward, with fingers outstretched, I felt the leaded panes of -the window and tapped softly. - -As softly the casement gave way, and I followed it. A hand which -I could see but not feel was laid on mine. All was darkness in -the room, and before me, but the hand guided me two paces -forward, then by a sudden pressure bade me stand. I heard the -sound of a, curtain being drawn behind me, and the next moment -the cover of a rushlight was removed, and a feeble but sufficient -light filled the chamber. - -I comprehended that the drawing of that curtain over the window -had cut off my retreat as effectually as if a door had been -closed behind me. But distrust and suspicion gave way the next -moment to the natural embarrassment of the man who finds himself -in a false position and knows he can escape from it only by an -awkward explanation. - -The room in which I found myself was long, narrow, and low in the -ceiling; and being hung with some dark stuff which swallowed up -the light, terminated funereally at the farther end in the still -deeper gloom of an alcove. Two or three huge chests, one bearing -the remnants of a meal, stood against the walls. The middle of -the floor was covered with a strip of coarse matting, on which a -small table, a chair and foot-rest, and a couple of stools had -place, with some smaller articles which lay scattered round a -pair of half-filled saddle-bags. The slighter and smaller of the -two figures I had seen stood beside the table, wearing a mask and -riding cloak; and by her silent manner of gazing at me, as well -as by a cold, disdainful bearing, which neither her mask nor -cloak could hide, did more to chill and discomfit me than even my -own knowledge that I had lost the pass-key which should have -admitted me to her confidence. - -The stouter figure of the afternoon turned out to be a red- -cheeked, sturdy woman of thirty, with bright black eyes and a -manner which lost nothing of its fierce impatience when she came -a little later to address me. All my ideas of Fanchette were -upset by the appearance of this woman, who, rustic in her speech -and ways, seemed more like a duenna, than the waiting-maid of a -court beauty, and better fitted to guard a wayward damsel than to -aid her in such an escapade as we had in hand. - -She stood slightly behind her mistress, her coarse red hand -resting on the back of the chair from which mademoiselle had -apparently risen on my entrance. For a few seconds, which seemed -minutes to me, we stood gazing at one another in silence, -mademoiselle acknowledging my bow by a slight movement of the -head. Then, seeing that they waited for me to speak, I did so. - -'Mademoiselle de la Vire?' I murmured doubtfully. - -She bent her head again; that was all. - -I strove to speak with confidence. 'You will pardon me, -mademoiselle,' I said, 'if I seem to be abrupt, but time is -everything. The horses are standing within a hundred yards of -the house, and all the preparations for your flight are made. If -we leave now, we can do so without opposition. The delay even of -an hour may lead to discovery.' - -For answer she laughed behind her mask-laughed coldly and -ironically. 'You go too fast, sir,' she said, her low clear -voice matching the laugh and rousing a feeling almost of anger in -my heart. 'I do not know you; or, rather, I know nothing of you -which should entitle you to interfere in my affairs. You are too -quick to presume, sir. You say you come from a friend. From -whom?' - -'From one whom I am proud to call by that title,' I answered with -what patience I might. - -'His name!' - -I answered firmly that I could not give it. And I eyed her -steadily as I did so. - -This for the moment seemed to baffle and confuse her, but after a -pause she continued: 'Where do you propose to take me, sir?' - -'To Blois; to the lodging of a friend of my friend.' - -'You speak bravely,' she replied with a faint sneer. 'You have -made some great friends lately it seems! But you bring me some -letter, no doubt; at least some sign, some token, some warranty, -that you are the person you pretend to be, M. de Marsac?' - -'The truth is, Mademoiselle,' I stammered, 'I must explain. I -should tell you--' - -'Nay, sir,' she cried impetuously, 'there is no need of telling. -If you have what I say, show it me! It is you who lose time. -Let us have no more words!' - -I had used very few words, and, God knows, was not in the mind to -use many; but, being in the wrong, I had no answer to make except -the truth, and that humbly. 'I had such a token as you mention, -mademoiselle,' I said, 'no farther back than this afternoon, in -the shape of half a gold coin, entrusted to me by my friend. -But, to my shame I say it, it was stolen from me a few hours -back.' - -'Stolen from you!' she exclaimed. - -'Yes, mademoiselle; and for that reason I cannot show it,' I -answered. - -'You cannot show it? And you dare to come to me without it!' -she cried, speaking with a vehemence which fairly startled me, -prepared as I was for reproaches. You come to me! You!' she -continued. And with that, scarcely stopping to take breath, she -loaded me with abuse; calling me impertinent, a meddler, and a -hundred other things, which I now blush to recall, and displaying -in all a passion which even in her attendant would have surprised -me, but in one so slight and seemingly delicate, overwhelmed and -confounded me. In fault as I was, I could not understand the -peculiar bitterness she displayed, or the contemptuous force of -her language, and I stared at her in silent wonder until, of her -own accord, she supplied the key to her feelings. In a fresh -outburst of rage she snatched off her mask, and to my -astonishment I saw before me the young maid of honour whom I had -encountered in the King of Navarre's antechamber, and whom I had -been so unfortunate as to expose to the raillery of Mathurine. - -'Who has paid you, sir,' she continued, clenching her small hands -and speaking with tears of anger in her eyes, 'to make me the -laughing-stock of the Court? It was bad enough when I thought -you the proper agent of those to whom I have a right to look for -aid! It was bad enough when I thought myself forced, through -their inconsiderate choice, to decide between an odious -imprisonment and the ridicule to which your intervention must -expose me! But that you should have dared, of your own notion, -to follow me, you, the butt of the Court--' - -'Mademoiselle!' I cried. - -'A needy, out-at-elbows adventurer!' she persisted, triumphing -in her cruelty. 'It exceeds all bearing! It is not to be -suffered! It--' - -'Nay, mademoiselle; you SHALL hear me!' I cried, with a -sternness which at last stopped her. 'Granted I am poor, I am -still a gentleman; yes, mademoiselle,' I continued, firmly, 'a -gentleman, and the last of a family which has spoken with yours -on equal terms. And I claim to be heard. I swear that when I -came here to-night I believed you to be a perfect stranger! I -was unaware that I had ever seen you, unaware that I had ever met -you before,' - -'Then why did you come?' she said viciously. - -'I was engaged to come by those whom you have mentioned, and -there, and there only am I in fault. They entrusted to me a -token which I have lost. For that I crave your pardon.' - -'You have need to,' she answered bitterly, yet with a changed -countenance, or I was mistaken, 'if your story be true, sir.' - -'Ay, that you have!' the woman beside her echoed. - -'Hoity toity, indeed! Here is a fuss about nothing. You call -yourself a gentleman, and wear such a doublet as--' - -'Peace, Fanchette" mademoiselle said imperiously. And then for a -moment she stood silent, eyeing me intently, her lips trembling -with excitement and two red spots burning in her cheeks. It was -clear from her dress and other things that she had made up her -mind to fly had the token been forthcoming; and seeing this, and -knowing how unwilling a young girl is to forgo her own way, I -still had some hopes that she might not persevere in her distrust -and refusal. And so it turned out. - -Her manner had changed to one of quiet scorn when she next spoke. -'You defend yourself skilfully, sir,' she said, drumming with her -fingers on the table and eyeing me steadfastly. 'But can you -give me any reason for the person you name making choice of such -a messenger?' - -'Yes,' I answered, boldly. 'That he may not be suspected of -conniving at your escape.' - -'Oh!' she cried, with a spark of her former passion. 'Then it -is to be put about that Mademoiselle de la Vire had fled from -Chize with M. de Marsac, is it? I thought that!' - -'Through the assistance of M. de Marsac,' I retorted, correcting -her coldly. 'It is for you, mademoiselle,' I continued, 'to -weigh that disadvantage against the unpleasantness of remaining -here. It only remains for me to ask you to decide quickly. Time -presses, and I have stayed here too long already.' - -The words had barely passed my lips when they received unwelcome -confirmation in the shape of a distant sound--the noisy closing -of a door, which, clanging through the house at such an hour--I -judged it to be after three o'clock--could scarcely mean -anything but mischief. This noise was followed immediately, even -while we stood listening with raised fingers, by other sounds--a -muffled cry, and the tramp of heavy footsteps in a distant -passage. Mademoiselle looked at me, and I at her woman. 'The -door!' I muttered. 'Is it locked?' - -'And bolted!' Fanchette answered; 'and a great chest set against -it. Let them ramp; they will do no harm for a bit.' - -'Then you have still time, mademoiselle,' I whispered, retreating -a step and laying my hand on the curtain before the window. -Perhaps I affected greater coolness than I felt. 'It is not too -late. If you choose to remain, well and good. I cannot help it. -If, on the other hand, you decide to trust yourself to me, I -swear, on the honour of a gentleman, to be worthy of the trust-- -to serve you truly and protect you to the last! I can say no -more.' - -She trembled, looking from me to the door, on which some one had -just begun to knock loudly. That seemed to decide her. Her lips -apart, her eyes full of excitement, she turned hastily to -Fanchette. - -'Ay, go if you like,' the woman answered doggedly, reading the -meaning of her look. 'There cannot be a greater villain than the -one we know of. But once started, heaven help us, for if he -overtakes us we'll pay dearly for it!' - -The girl did not speak herself, but it was enough. The noise at -the door increased each second, and began to be mingled with -angry appeals to Fanchette to open, and with threats in case she -delayed. I cut the matter short by snatching up one of the -saddle-bags--the other we left behind--and flung back the curtain -which covered the window. At the same time the woman dashed out -the light--a timely precaution--and throwing open the casement I -stepped on to the balcony, the others following me closely. - -The moon had risen high, and flooding with light the small open -space about the house enabled me to see clearly all round the -foot of the ladder, to my surprise Fresnoy was not at his post, -nor was he to be seen anywhere; but as, at the moment I observed -this, an outcry away to my left, at the rear of the chateau, came -to my ears, and announced that the danger was no longer confined -to the interior of the house, I concluded that he had gone that -way to intercept the attack. Without more, therefore, I began to -descend as quickly as I could, my sword under one arm and the bag -under the other. - -I was half-way down, and mademoiselle was already stepping on to -the ladder to follow, when I heard footsteps below, and saw him -run up, his sword in his hand. - -'Quick, Fresnoy!' I cried. 'To the horses and unfasten them! -quick!' - -I slid down the rest of the way, thinking he had gone to do my -bidding. But my feet were scarcely on the ground when a -tremendous blow in the side sent me staggering three paces from -the ladder. The attack was so sudden, so unexpected, that but -for the sight of Fresnoy's scowling face, wild with rage, at my -shoulder, and the sound of his fierce breathing as he strove to -release his sword, which had passed through my saddle-bag, I -might never have known who struck the blow, or how narrow had -been my escape. - -Fortunately the knowledge did come to me in time, and before he -freed his blade; and it nerved my hand. To draw my-blade at such -close quarters was impossible, but, dropping the bag which had -saved my life, I dashed my hilt twice in his face with such -violence that he fell backwards and lay on the turf, a dark stain -growing and spreading on his upturned face. - -It was scarcely done before the women reached the foot of the -ladder and stood beside me. 'Quick!' I cried to them, 'or they -will be upon us.' Seizing mademoiselle's hand, just as half-a- -dozen men came running round the corner of the house, I jumped -with her down the haha, and, urging her to her utmost speed, -dashed across the open ground which lay between us and the belt -of trees. Once in the shelter of the latter, where our movements -were hidden from view, I had still to free the horses and mount -mademoiselle and her woman, and this in haste. But my -companions' admirable coolness and presence of mind, and the -objection which our pursuers, who did not know our numbers, felt -to leaving the open ground, enabled us to do all with, -comparative ease. I sprang on the Cid (it has always been my -habit to teach my horse to stand for me, nor do I know any -accomplishment more serviceable at a pinch), and giving Fresnoy's -grey a cut over the flanks which despatched it ahead, led the way -down the ride by which I had gained the chateau in the afternoon. -I knew it to be level and clear of trees, and the fact that we -chose it might throw our pursuers off the track for a time, by -leading them to think we had taken the south road instead of that -through the village. - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE ROAD TO BLOIS. - -We gained the road without let or hindrance, whence a sharp burst -in the moonlight soon brought us to the village. Through this we -swept on to the inn, almost running over the four evangelists, -whom we found standing at the door ready for the saddle. I bade -them, in a quick peremptory tone, to get to horse, and was -overjoyed to see them obey without demur or word of Fresnoy. In -another minute, with a great clatter of hoofs, we sprang clear of -the hamlet, and were well on the road to Melle, with Poitiers -some thirteen leagues before us. I looked back, and thought I -discerned lights moving in the direction of the chateau; but the -dawn was still two hours off, and the moonlight left me in doubt -whether these were real or the creatures of my own fearful fancy. - -I remember, three years before this time, on the occasion of the -famous retreat from Angers--when the Prince of Conde had involved -his army beyond the Loire, and saw himself, in the impossibility -of recrossing the river, compelled to take ship for England, -leaving every one to shift for himself--I well remember on that -occasion riding, alone and pistol in hand, through more than -thirty miles of the enemy's country without drawing rein. But my -anxieties were then confined to the four shoes of my horse. The -dangers to which I was exposed at every ford and cross road were -such as are inseparable from a campaign, and breed in generous -hearts only a fierce pleasure, rarely to be otherwise enjoyed. -And though I then rode warily, and where I could not carry -terror, had all to fear myself, there was nothing secret or -underhand in my business. - -It was very different now. During the first few hours of our -flight from Chize I experienced a painful excitement, an alarm, a -feverish anxiety to get forward, which was new to me; which -oppressed my spirits to the very ground; which led me to take -every sound borne to us on the wind for the sound of pursuit, -transforming the clang of a hammer on the anvil into the ring of -swords, and the voices of my own men into those of the pursuers. -It was in vain mademoiselle rode with a free hand, and leaping -such obstacles as lay in our way, gave promise of courage and -endurance beyond my expectations. I could think of nothing but -the three long day's before us, with twenty-four hours to every -day, and each hour fraught with a hundred chances of disaster and -ruin. - -In fact, the longer I considered our position--and as we pounded -along, now splashing through a founderous hollow, now stumbling -as we wound over a stony shoulder, I had ample time to reflect -upon it--the greater seemed the difficulties before us. The loss -of Fresnoy, while it freed me from some embarrassment, meant also -the loss of a good sword, and we had mustered only too few -before. The country which lay between us and the Loire, being -the borderland between our party and the League, had been laid -desolate so often as to be abandoned to pillage and disorder of -every kind. The peasants had flocked into the towns. Their -places had been taken by bands of robbers and deserters from both -parties, who haunted the ruined villages about Poitiers, and -preyed upon all who dared to pass. To add to our perils, the -royal army under the Duke of Nevers was reported to be moving -slowly southward, not very far to the left of our road; while a -Huguenot expedition against Niort was also in progress within a -few leagues of us. - -With four staunch and trustworthy comrades at my back, I might -have faced even this situation with a smile and a light heart; -but the knowledge that my four knaves might mutiny at any moment, -or, worse still, rid themselves of me and all restraint by a -single treacherous blow such as Fresnoy had aimed at me, filled -me with an ever-present dread; which it taxed my utmost energies -to hide from them, and which I strove in vain to conceal from -mademoiselle's keener vision. - -Whether it was this had an effect upon her, giving her a meaner -opinion of me than that which I had for a while hoped she -entertained, or that she began, now it was too late, to regret -her flight and resent my part in it, I scarcely know; but from -daybreak onwards she assumed an attitude of cold suspicion -towards me, which was only less unpleasant than the scornful -distance of her manner when she deigned, which was seldom, to -address me. - -Not once did she allow me to forget that I was in her eyes a -needy adventurer, paid by her friends to escort her to a place of -safety, but without any claim to the smallest privilege of -intimacy or equality. When I would have adjusted her saddle, she -bade her woman come and hold up her skirt, that my hands might -not touch its hem even by accident. And when I would have -brought wine to her at Melle, where we stayed for twenty -minutes, she called Fanchette to hand it to her. She rode for -the most part in her mask; and with her woman. One good effect -only her pride and reserve had; they impressed our men with a -strong sense of her importance, and the danger to which any -interference with her might expose them. - -The two men whom Fresnoy had enlisted I directed to ride a score -of paces in advance. Luke and John I placed in the rear. In -this manner I thought to keep them somewhat apart. For myself, I -proposed to ride abreast of mademoiselle, but she made it so -clear that my neighbourhood displeased her that I fell back, -leaving her to ride with Fanchette; and contented myself with -plodding at their heels, and striving to attach the later -evangelists to my interests. - -We were so fortunate, despite my fears, as to find the road -nearly deserted--as, alas, was much of the country on either -side--and to meet none but small parties travelling along it; who -were glad enough, seeing the villainous looks of our outriders, -to give us a wide berth, and be quit of us for the fright. We -skirted Lusignan, shunning the streets, but passing near enough -for me to point out to mademoiselle the site of the famous tower -built, according to tradition, by the fairy Melusina, and rased -thirteen years back by the Leaguers. She received my information -so frigidly, however, that I offered no more, but fell back -shrugging my shoulders, and rode in silence, until, some two -hours after noon, the city of Poitiers came into sight, lying -within its circle of walls and towers on a low hill in the middle -of a country clothed in summer with rich vineyards, but now brown -and bare and cheerless to the eye. - -Fanchette turned and asked me abruptly if that were Poitiers. - -I answered that it was, but added that for certain reasons I -proposed not to halt, but to lie at a village a league beyond the -city, where there was a tolerable inn. - -'We shall do very well here,' the woman answered rudely. 'Any -way, my lady will go no farther. She is tired and cold, and wet -besides, and has gone far enough.' - -'Still,' I answered, nettled by the woman's familiarity, 'I think -mademoiselle will change her mind when she hears my reasons for -going farther.' - -'Mademoiselle does not wish to hear them, sir,' the lady replied -herself, and very sharply. - -'Nevertheless, I think you had better hear them,' I persisted, -turning to her respectfully. 'You see, mademoiselle--' - -'I see only one thing, sir,' she exclaimed, snatching off her -mask and displaying a countenance beautiful indeed, but flushed -for the moment with anger and impatience, 'that, whatever -betides, I stay at Poitiers to-night.' - -'If it would content you to rest an hour?' I suggested gently. - -'It will not content me!' she rejoined with spirit. 'And let me -tell you, sir,' she went on impetuously, 'once for all, that you -take too much upon yourself. You are here to escort me, and to -give orders to these ragamuffins, for they are nothing better, -with whom you have thought fit to disgrace our company; but not -to give orders to me or to control my movements. Confine -yourself for the future, sir, to your duties, if you please.' - -'I desire only to obey you,' I answered, suppressing the angry -feelings which rose in my breast, and speaking as coolly as lay -in my power. 'But, as the first of my duties is to provide for -your safety, I am determined to omit nothing which can conduce to -that end. You have not considered that, if a party in pursuit of -us reaches Poitiers to-night, search will be made for us in the -city, and we shall be taken. If, on the other hand, we are known -to have passed through, the hunt may go no farther; certainly -will go no farther to-night. Therefore we must not, -mademoiselle,' I added firmly, 'lie in Poitiers to-night.' - -'Sir,' she exclaimed, looking at me, her face crimson with wonder -and indignation, 'do you dare to--?' - -'I dare do my duty, mademoiselle,' I answered, plucking up a -spirit, though my heart was sore. 'I am a man old enough to be -your father, and with little to lose, or I had not been here. I -care nothing what you think or what you say of me, provided I can -do what I have undertaken to do and place you safely in the hands -of your friends. But enough, mademoiselle, we are at the gate. -If you will permit me, I will ride through the streets beside -you. We shall so attract less attention.' - -Without waiting for a permission which she was very unlikely to -give, I pushed my horse forward, and took my place beside her, -signing to Fanchette to fall back. The maid obeyed, speechless -with indignation; while mademoiselle flashed a scathing glance at -me and looked round in helpless anger, as though it was in her -mind to appeal against me even to the passers-by. But she -thought better of it, and contenting herself with muttering the -word 'Impertinent' put on her mask with fingers which trembled, I -fancy, not a little. - -A small rain was falling and the afternoon was well advanced when -we entered the town, but I noticed that, notwithstanding this, -the streets presented a busy and animated appearance, being full -of knots of people engaged in earnest talk. A bell was tolling -somewhere, and near the cathedral a crowd of no little size was -standing, listening to a man who seemed to be rending a placard -or manifesto attached to the wall. In another place a soldier, -wearing the crimson colours of the League, but splashed and -stained as with recent travel, was holding forth to a breathless -circle who seemed to hang upon his lips. A neighbouring corner -sheltered a handful of priests who whispered together with gloomy -faces. Many stared at us as we passed, and some would have -spoken; but I rode steadily on, inviting no converse. -Nevertheless at the north gate I got a rare fright; for, though -it wanted a full half-hour of sunset, the porter was in the act -of closing it. Seeing us, he waited grumbling until we came up, -and then muttered, in answer to my remonstrance, something about -queer times and wilful people having their way. I took little -notice of what he said, however, being anxious only to get -through the gate and leave as few traces of our passage as might -be. - -As soon as we were outside the town I fell back, permitting -Fanchette to take my place. For another league, a long and -dreary one, we plodded on in silence, horses and men alike jaded -and sullen, and the women scarcely able to keep their saddles for -fatigue. At last, much to my relief, seeing that I began to fear -I had taxed mademoiselle's strength too far, the long low -buildings of the inn at which I proposed to stay came in sight, -at the crossing of the road and river. The place looked blank -and cheerless, for the dusk was thickening; but as we trailed one -by one into the courtyard a stream of firelight burst on us from -doors and windows, and a dozen sounds of life and comfort greeted -our ears. - -Noticing that mademoiselle was benumbed and cramped with long -sitting, I would have helped her to dismount; but she fiercely -rejected my aid, and I had to content myself with requesting the -landlord to assign the best accommodation he had to the lady and -her attendant, and secure as much privacy for them as possible. -The man assented very civilly and said all should be done; but I -noticed that his eyes wandered while I talked, and that he seemed -to have something on his mind. When he returned, after disposing -of them, it came out. - -'Did you ever happen to see him, sir?' he asked with a sigh; yet -was there a smug air of pleasure mingled with his melancholy. - -'See whom?' I answered, staring at him, for neither of us had -mentioned any one. - -'The Duke, sir.' - -I stared again between wonder and suspicion. 'The Duke of Nevers -is not in this part, is he?' I said slowly. 'I heard he was on -the Brittany border, away to the westward.' - -'Mon Dieu!' my host exclaimed, raising his hands in -astonishment. 'You have not heard, sir?' - -'I have heard nothing,' I answered impatiently. - -'You have not heard, sir, that the most puissant and illustrious -lord the Duke of Guise is dead?' - -'M. de Guise dead? It is not true!' I cried astonished. - -He nodded, however, several times with an air of great -importance, and seemed as if he would have gone on to give me -some particulars. But, remembering, as I fancied, that he spoke -in the hearing of half-a-dozen guests who sat about the great -fire behind me, and had both eyes and ears open, he contented -himself with shifting his towel to his other arm and adding only, -'Yes, sir, dead as any nail. The news came through here -yesterday, and made a pretty stir. It happened at Blois the day -but one before Christmas, if all be true.' - -I was thunderstruck. This was news which might change the face -of France. 'How did it happen?' I asked. - -My host covered his mouth with his hand and coughed, and, privily -twitching my sleeve, gave me to understand with some -shamefacedness that he could not say more in public. I was about -to make some excuse to retire with him, when a harsh voice, -addressed apparently to me, caused me to turn sharply. I found -at my elbow a tall thin-faced monk in the habit of the Jacobin -order. He had risen from his seat beside the fire, and seemed to -be labouring under great excitement. - -'Who asked how it happened?' he cried, rolling his eyes in a -kind of frenzy, while still observant, or I was much mistaken, of -his listeners. Is there a man in France to whom the tale has not -been told? Is there?' - -'I will answer for one,' I replied, regarding him with little -favour. 'I have heard nothing.' - -'Then you shall! Listen!' he exclaimed, raising his right hand -and brandishing it as though he denounced a person then present. -'Hear my accusation, made in the name of Mother Church and the -saints against the arch hypocrite, the perjurer and assassin -sitting in high places! He shall be Anathema Maranatha, for he -has shed the blood of the holy and the pure, the chosen of -Heaven! He shall go down to the pit, and that soon. The blood -that he has shed shall be required of him, and that before he is -one year older.' - -'Tut-tut. All that sounds very fine, good father,' I said, -waxing impatient, and a little scornful; for I saw that he was -one of those wandering and often crazy monks in whom the League -found their most useful emissaries. 'But I should profit more by -your gentle words, if I knew whom you were cursing.' - -'The man of blood!' he cried; 'through whom the last but not the -least of God's saints and martyrs entered into glory on the -Friday before Christmas.' - -Moved by such profanity, and judging him, notwithstanding the -extravagance of his words and gestures, to be less mad than he -seemed, and at least as much knave as fool, I bade him sternly -have done with his cursing, and proceed to his story if he had -one. - -He glowered at me for a moment, as though he were minded to -launch his spiritual weapons at my head; but as I returned his -glare with an unmoved eye--and my four rascals, who were as -impatient as myself to learn the news, and had scarce more -reverence for a shaven crown, began to murmur--he thought better -of it, and cooling as suddenly as he had flamed up, lost no more -time in satisfying our curiosity. - -It would ill become me, however, to set down the extravagant and -often blasphemous harangue in which, styling M. de Guise the -martyr of God, he told the story now so familiar--the story of -that dark wintry morning at Blois, when the king's messenger, -knocking early at the duke's door, bade him hurry, for the king -wanted him. The story is trite enough now. When I heard it -first in the inn on the Clain, it was all new and all marvellous. - -The monk, too, telling the story as if he had seen the events -with his own eyes, omitted nothing which might impress his -hearers. He told us how the duke received warning after warning, -and answered in the very antechamber, 'He dare not!' How his -blood, mysteriously advised of coming dissolution, grew chill, -and his eye, wounded at Chateau Thierry, began to run, so that he -had to send for the handkerchief he had forgotten to bring. He -told us, even, how the duke drew his assassins up and down the -chamber, how he cried for mercy, and how he died at last at the -foot of the king's bed, and how the king, who had never dared to -face him living, came and spurned him dead! - -There were pale faces round the fire when he ceased, and bent -brows and lips hard pressed together. Then he stood and cursed -the King of France--cursing him openly by the name of Henry of -Valois, a thing I had never looked to hear in France--though no -one said 'Amen,' and all glanced over their shoulders, and our -host pattered from the room as if he had seen a ghost, it seemed -to be no man's duty to gainsay him. - -For myself, I was full of thoughts which it would have been -unsafe to utter in that company or so near the Loire. I looked -back sixteen years. Who but Henry of Guise had spurned the -corpse of Coligny? And who but Henry of Valois had backed him in -the act? Who but Henry of Guise had drenched Paris with blood, -and who but Henry of Valois had ridden by his side? One 23rd of -the month--a day never to be erased from France's annals--had -purchased for him a term of greatness. A second 23rd saw him, -pay the price--saw his ashes cast secretly and by night no man -knows where! - -Moved by such thoughts, and observing that the priest was going -the round of the company collecting money for masses for the -duke's soul, to which object I could neither give with a good -conscience nor refuse without exciting suspicion, I slipped out; -and finding a man of decent appearance talking with the landlord -in a small room beside the kitchen, I called for a flask of the -best wine, and by means of that introduction obtained my supper -in their company. - -The stranger was a Norman horsedealer, returning home, after -disposing of his string. He seemed to be in a large way of -business, and being of a bluff, independent spirit, as many of -those Norman townsmen are, was inclined at first to treat me with -more familiarity than respect; the fact of my nag, for which he -would have chaffered, excelling my coat in quality, leading him -to set me down as a steward or intendant. The pursuit of his -trade, however, had brought him into connection with all classes -of men and he quickly perceived his mistake; and as he knew the -provinces between the Seine and Loire to perfection, and made it -part of his business to foresee the chances of peace and war, I -obtained a great amount of information from him, and indeed -conceived no little liking for him. He believed that the -assassination of M. de Guise would alienate so much of France -from the king that his majesty would have little left save the -towns on the Loire, and some other places lying within easy reach -of his court at Blois. - -'But,' I said,'things seem quiet now. Here, for instance.' - -'It is the calm before the storm,' he answered. 'There is a monk -in there. Have you heard him?' - -I nodded. - -'He is only one among a hundred--a thousand,' the horsedealer -continued, looking at me and nodding with meaning. He was a -brown-haired man with shrewd grey eyes, such as many Normans -have. 'They will get their way too, you will see,' he went on. -'Well, horses will go up, so I have no cause to grumble; but, if -I were on my way to Blois with women or gear of that kind, I -should not choose this time for picking posies on the road. I -should see the inside of the gates as soon as possible.' - -I thought there was much in what he said; and when he went on to -maintain that the king would find himself between the hammer and -the anvil--between the League holding all the north and the -Huguenots holding all the south--and must needs in time come to -terms with the latter seeing that the former would rest content -with nothing short of his deposition, I began to agree with him -that we should shortly see great changes and very stirring times. - -'Still if they depose the king,' I said, 'the King of Navarre -must succeed him. He is the heir of France.' - -'Bah!' my companion replied somewhat contemptuously. 'The -League will see to that. He goes with the other.' - -'Then the kings are in one cry, and you are right,' I said with -conviction. 'They must unite.' - -'So they will. It is only a question of time,' he said. - -In the morning, having only one man with him, and, as I guessed, -a considerable sum of money, he volunteered to join our party as -far as Blois. I assented gladly, and he did so, this addition to -our numbers ridding me at once of the greater part of my fears. -I did not expect any opposition on the part of mademoiselle, who -would gain in consequence as well as in safety. Nor did she -offer any. She was content, I think, to welcome any addition to -our party which would save her from the necessity of riding in -the company of my old cloak. - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -MY MOTHER'S LODGING. - -Travelling by way of Chatelherault and Tours, we reached the -neighbourhood of Blois a little after noon on the third day -without misadventure or any intimation of pursuit. The Norman -proved himself a cheerful companion on the road, as I already -knew him to be a man of sense and shrewdness while his presence -rendered the task of keeping my men in order an easy one. I -began to consider the adventure as practically achieved; and -regarding Mademoiselle de la Vire as already in effect -transferred to the care of M. de Rosny, I ventured to turn my -thoughts to the development of my own plans and the choice of a -haven in which I might rest secure from the vengeance of M. de -Turenne. - -For the moment I had evaded his pursuit, and, assisted by the -confusion caused everywhere by the death of Guise had succeeded -in thwarting his plans and affronting his authority with seeming -ease. But I knew too much of his power and had heard too many -instances of his fierce temper and resolute will to presume on -short impunity or to expect the future with anything but -diffidence and dismay. - -The exclamations of my companions on coming within sight of Blois -aroused me from these reflections. I joined them, and fully -shared their emotion as I gazed on the stately towers which had -witnessed so many royal festivities, and, alas! one royal -tragedy; which had sheltered Louis the Well-beloved and Francis -the Great, and rung with the laughter of Diana of Poitiers and -the second Henry. The play of fancy wreathed the sombre building -with a hundred memories grave and gay. But, though the rich -plain of the Loire still swelled upward as of old in gentle -homage at the feet of the gallant town, the shadow of crime -seemed to darken all, and dim even the glories of the royal -standard which hung idly in the air. - -We had heard so many reports of the fear and suspicion which -reigned in the city and of the strict supervision which was -exercised over all who entered--the king dreading a repetition of -the day of the Barricades--that we halted at a little inn a mile -short of the gate and broke up our company. I parted from my -Norman friend with mutual expressions of esteem, and from my own -men, whom I had paid off in the morning, complimenting each of -them with a handsome present, with a feeling of relief equally -sincere. I hoped--but the hope was not fated to be gratified ---that I might never see the knaves again. - -It wanted less than an hour of sunset when I rode up to the gate, -a few paces in front of mademoiselle and her woman; as if I had -really been the intendant for whom the horse-dealer had mistaken -me. We found the guardhouse lined with soldiers, who scanned us -very narrowly as we approached, and whose stern features and -ordered weapons showed that they were not there for mere effect. -The fact, however, that we came from Tours, a city still in the -king's hands, served to allay suspicion, and we passed without -accident. - -Once in the streets, and riding in single file between the -houses, to the windows of which the townsfolk seemed to be -attracted by the slightest commotion, so full of terror was the -air, I experienced a moment of huge relief. This was Blois-- -Blois at last. We were within a few score yards of the Bleeding -Heart. In a few minutes I should receive a quittance, and be -free to think only of myself. - -Nor was my pleasure much lessened by the fact that I was so soon -to part from Mademoiselle de la Vire. Frankly, I was far from -liking her. Exposure to the air of a court had spoiled, it -seemed to me, whatever graces of disposition the young lady had -ever possessed. She still maintained, and had maintained -throughout the journey, the cold and suspicious attitude assumed -at starting; nor had she ever expressed the least solicitude on -my behalf, or the slightest sense that we were incurring danger -in her service. She had not scrupled constantly to prefer her -whims to the common advantage, and even safety; while her sense -of self-importance had come to be so great, that she seemed to -hold herself exempt from the duty of thanking any human creature. -I could not deny that she was beautiful--indeed, I often thought, -when watching her, of the day when I had seen her in the King of -Navarre's antechamber in all the glory of her charms. But I felt -none the less that I could turn my back on her--leaving her in -safety--without regret; and be thankful that her path would never -again cross mine. - -With such thoughts in my breast I turned the corner of the Rue de -St. Denys and came at once upon the Bleeding Heart, a small but -decent-looking hostelry situate near the end of the street and -opposite a church. A bluff grey-haired man, who was standing in -the doorway, came forward as we halted, and looking curiously at -mademoiselle asked what I lacked; adding civilly that the house -was full and they had no sleeping room, the late events having -drawn a great assemblage to Blois. - -'I want only an address,' I answered, leaning from the saddle and -speaking in a low voice that I might not be overheard by the -passers-by. 'The Baron de Rosny is in Blois, is he not?' - -The man started at the name of the Huguenot leader, and looked -round him nervously. But, seeing that no one was very near us, -he answered: 'He was, sir; but he left town a week ago and more. -'There have been strange doings here, and M. de Rosny thought -that the climate suited him ill.' - -He said this with so much meaning, as well as concern that he -should not be overheard, that, though I was taken aback and -bitterly disappointed, I succeeded in restraining all -exclamations and even show of feeling. After a pause of dismay, -I asked whither M. de Rosny had gone. - -'To Rosny,' was the answer. - -'And Rosny?' - -'Is beyond Chartres, pretty well all the way to Mantes,' the man -answered, stroking my horse's neck. 'Say thirty leagues.' - -I turned my horse, and hurriedly communicated what he said to -mademoiselle, who was waiting a few paces away. Unwelcome to me, -the news was still less welcome to her. Her chagrin and -indignation knew no bounds. For a moment words failed her, but -her flashing eyes said more than her tongue as she cried to me: -'Well, sir, and what now? Is this the end of your fine promises? -Where is your Rosny, if all be not a lying invention of your -own?' - -Feeling that she had some excuse I suppressed my choler, and -humbly repeating that Rosny was at his house, two days farther -on, and that I could see nothing for it but to go to him, I asked -the landlord where we could find a lodging for the night. - -'Indeed, sir, that is more than I can say,' he answered, looking -curiously at us, and thinking, I doubt not, that with my shabby -cloak and fine horse, and mademoiselle's mask and spattered -riding-coat, we were an odd couple. 'There is not an inn which -is not full to the garrets--nay, and the stables; and, what is -more, people are chary of taking strangers in. These are strange -times. They say,' be continued in a lower tone, 'that the old -queen is dying up there, and will not last the night.' - -I nodded. 'We must go somewhere' I said. - -'I would help you if I could,' he answered, shrugging his -shoulders. 'But there it is! Blois is full from the tiles to -the cellars.' - -My horse shivered under me, and mademoiselle, whose patience was -gone, cried harshly to me to do something. 'We cannot spend the -night in the streets,' she said fiercely. - -I saw that she was worn out and scarcely mistress of herself. -The light was falling, and with it some rain. The reek of the -kennels and the close air from the houses seemed to stifle us. -The bell at the church behind us was jangling out vespers. A few -people, attracted by the sight of our horses standing before the -inn, had gathered round and were watching us. - -Something I saw must be done, and done quickly. In despair, and -seeing no other resort, I broached a proposal of which I had not -hitherto even dreamed. 'Mademoiselle,' I said bluntly, 'I must -take you to my mother's.' - -'To your mother's, sir?' she cried, rousing herself. Her voice -rang with haughty surprise. - -'Yes,' I replied brusquely; 'since, as you say, we cannot spend -the night in the streets, and I do not know where else I can -dispose of you. From the last advices I had I believe her to -have followed the court hither. My friend,' I continued, turning -to the landlord, 'do you know by name a Madame de Bonne, who -should be in Blois?' - -'A Madame de Bonne!' he muttered, reflecting. 'I have heard the -name lately. Wait a moment.' Disappearing into the house, he -returned almost immediately, followed by a lanky pale-faced youth -wearing a tattered black soutane. 'Yes,' he said nodding, 'there -is a worthy lady of that name lodging in the next street, I am -told. As it happens, this young man lives in the same house, and -will guide you, if you like.' - -I assented, and, thanking him for his information, turned my -horse and requested the youth to lead the way. We had scarcely -passed the corner of the street, however, and entered one -somewhat more narrow and less frequented, when mademoiselle, who -was riding behind me, stopped and called to me. I drew rein, -and, turning, asked what it was. - -'I am not coming,' she said, her voice trembling slightly, but -whether with alarm or anger I could not determine. 'I know -nothing of you, and I--I demand to be taken to M. de Rosny.' - -'If you cry that name aloud in the streets of Blois, -mademoiselle,' I retorted, 'you are like enough to be taken -whither you will not care to go! As for M. de Rosny, I have told -you that he is not here. He has gone to his seat at Mantes.' - -'Then take me to him!' - -'At this hour of the night?' I said drily. 'It is two days' -journey from here.' - -'Then I will go to an inn,' she replied sullenly. - -'You have heard that there is no room in the inns ' I rejoined -with what patience I could. 'And to go from inn to inn at this -hour might lead us into trouble. I can assure you that I am as -much taken aback by M. de Rosny's absence as you are. For the -present, we are close to my mother's lodging, and--' - -'I know nothing of your mother!' she exclaimed passionately, her -voice raised. 'You have enticed me hither by false pretences, -sir, and I will endure it no longer. I will--' - -'What you will do, I do not know then, mademoiselle,' I replied, -quite at my wits' end; for what with the rain and the darkness, -the unknown streets--in which our tarrying might at any moment -collect a crowd--and this stubborn girl's opposition, I knew not -whither to turn. 'For my part I can suggest nothing else. It -does not become me to speak of my mother,' I continued, 'or I -might say that even Mademoiselle de la Vire need not be ashamed -to accept the hospitality of Madame de Bonne. Nor are my -mother's circumstances,' I added proudly, 'though narrow, so mean -as to deprive her of the privileges of her birth.' - -My last words appeared to make some impression upon my companion. -She turned and spoke to her woman, who replied in a low voice, -tossing her head the while and glaring at me in speechless -indignation. Had there been anything else for it, they would -doubtless have flouted my offer still; but apparently Fanchette -could suggest nothing, and presently mademoiselle, with a sullen -air, bade me lead on. - -Taking this for permission, the lanky youth in the black soutane, -who had remained at my bridle throughout the discussion, now -listening and now staring, nodded and resumed his way; and I -followed. After proceeding a little more than fifty yards he -stopped before a mean-looking doorway, flanked by grated windows, -and fronted by a lofty wall which I took to be the back of some -nobleman's garden. The street at this point was unlighted, and -little better than an alley; nor was the appearance of the house, -which was narrow and ill-looking, though lofty, calculated, as -far as I could make it out is the darkness, to allay -mademoiselle's suspicions. Knowing, however, that people of -position are often obliged in towns to lodge in poor houses, I -thought nothing of this, and only strove to get mademoiselle -dismounted as quickly as possible. The lad groped about and -found two rings beside the door, and to these I tied up the -horses. Then, bidding him lead the way, and begging mademoiselle -to follow, I plunged into the darkness of the passage and felt my -way to the foot of the staircase, which was entirely unlighted, -and smelled close and unpleasant. - -'Which floor?' I asked my guide. - -'The fourth,' he answered quietly. - -'Morbleu!' I muttered, as I began to ascend, my hand on the -wall. 'What is the meaning of this?' - -For I was perplexed. The revenues of Marsac, though small, -should have kept; my mother, whom I had last seen in Paris before -the Nemours edict, in tolerable comfort--such modest comfort, at -any rate, as could scarcely be looked for in such a house as -this--obscure, ill-tended, unlighted. To my perplexity was -added, before I reached the top of the stairs, disquietude-- -disquietude on her account as well as on mademoiselle's. I felt -that something was wrong, and would have given much to recall the -invitation I had pressed on the latter. - -What the young lady thought herself I could pretty well guess, as -I listened to her hurried breathing at my shoulder. With every -step I expected her to refuse to go farther. But, having once -made up her mind, she followed me stubbornly, though the darkness -was such that involuntarily I loosened my dagger, and prepared to -defend myself should this turn out to be a trap. - -We reached the top, however, without accident. Our guide knocked -softly at a door and immediately opened it without waiting for an -answer. A feeble light shone out on the stair-head, and bending -my head, for the lintel was low, I stepped into the room. - -I advanced two paces and stood looking about me in angry -bewilderment. The bareness of extreme poverty marked everything -on which my eyes rested. A cracked earthenware lamp smoked and -sputtered on a stool in the middle of the rotting floor. An old -black cloak nailed to the wall, and flapping to and fro in the -draught like some dead gallowsbird, hung in front of the unglazed -window. A jar in a corner caught the drippings from a hole in -the roof. An iron pot and a second stool--the latter casting a -long shadow across the floor--stood beside the handful of wood -ashes, which smouldered on the hearth. And that was all the -furniture I saw, except a bed which filled the farther end of the -long narrow room, and was curtained off so as to form a kind of -miserable alcove. - -A glance sufficed to show me all this, and that the room was -empty, or apparently empty. Yet I looked again and again, -stupefied. At last finding my voice, I turned to the young man -who had brought us hither, and with a fierce oath demanded of him -what he meant. - -He shrank back behind the open door, and yet; answered with a -kind of sullen surprise that I had asked for Madame de Bonne's, -and this was it. - -'Madame de Bonne's!' I muttered. 'This Madame de Bonne's!' - -He nodded. - -'Of course it is! And you know it!' mademoiselle hissed in my -ear, her voice, as she interposed, hoarse with passion. 'Don't -think that you can deceive us any longer. We know all! This,' -she continued, looking round, her cheeks scarlet, her eyes ablaze -with scorn, 'is your mother's, is it! Your mother who has -followed the court hither--whose means are narrow, but not so -small as to deprive her of the privileges of her rank! This is -your mother's hospitality, is it? You are a cheat, sir! and a -detected cheat! Let us begone! Let me go, sir, I say!' - -Twice I had tried to stop the current of her words; but in vain. -Now with anger which surpassed hers a hundredfold--for who, being -a man, would hear himself misnamed before his mother?--I -succeeded, 'Silence, mademoiselle!' I cried, my grasp on her -wrist. 'Silence, I say! This is my mother!' - -And running forward to the bed, I fell on my knees beside it. A -feeble hand had half withdrawn the curtain, and through the gap -my mother's stricken face looked out, a great fear stamped upon -it. - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -SIMON FLEIX. - -For some minutes I forgot mademoiselle in paying those assiduous -attentions to my mother which her state and my duty demanded; and -which I offered the more anxiously that I recognised, with a -sinking heart, the changes which age and illness had made in her -since my last visit. The shock of mademoiselle's words had -thrown her into a syncope, from which she did not recover for -some time; and then rather through the assistance of our strange -guide, who seemed well aware what to do, than through my efforts. -Anxious as I was to learn what had reduced her to such straits -and such a place, this was not the time to satisfy my curiosity, -and I prepared myself instead for the task of effacing the -painful impression which mademoiselle's words had made on her -mind. - -On first coming to herself she did not remember them, but, -content to find me by her side--for there is something so -alchemic in a mother's love that I doubt not my presence changed -her garret to a palace--she spent herself in feeble caresses and -broken words. Presently, however, her eye falling on -mademoiselle and her maid, who remained standing by the hearth, -looking darkly at us from time to time, she recalled, first the -shock which had prostrated her, and then its cause, and raising -herself on her elbow, looked about her wildly. 'Gaston!' she -cried, clutching my hand with her thin fingers, 'what was it I -heard? It was of you someone spoke--a woman! She called you--or -did I dream it?--a cheat! You!' - -'Madame, madame,' I said, striving to speak carelessly, though -the sight; of her grey hair, straggling and dishevelled, moved me -strangely, 'was it; likely? Would anyone dare to use such -expressions of me is your presence? You must indeed have dreamed -it!' - -The words, however, returning more and more vividly to her mind, -she looked at me very pitifully, and in great agitation laid her -arm on my neck, as though she would shelter me with the puny -strength which just enabled her to rise in bed. 'But someone,' -she muttered, her eyes on the strangers, 'said it, Gaston? I -heard it. What did it mean?' - -'What you heard, madame,' I answered, with an attempt at gaiety, -though the tears stood in my eyes, 'was, doubtless, mademoiselle -here scolding our guide from Tours, who demanded three times the -proper POURBOIRE. The impudent rascal deserved all that was said -to him, I assure you.' - -'Was that it?' she murmured doubtfully. - -'That must have been what you heard, madame,' I answered, as if I -felt no doubt. - -She fell back with a sigh of relief, and a little colour came -into her wan face. But her eyes still dwelt curiously, and with -apprehension, on mademoiselle, who stood looking sullenly into -the fire; and seeing this my heart misgave me sorely that I had -done a foolish thing in bringing the girl there. I foresaw a -hundred questions which would be asked, and a hundred -complications which must ensue, and felt already the blush of -shame mounting to my cheek. - -'Who is that?' my mother asked softly. 'I am ill. She must -excuse me.' She pointed with her fragile finger to my -companions. - -I rose, and still keeping her hand in mine, turned so as to face -the hearth. 'This, madame,' I answered formally, 'is -Mademoiselle--, but her name I will commit to you later, and in -private. Suffice it to say that she is a lady of rank, who has -been committed to my charge by a high personage.' - -'A high personage?' my mother repeated gently, glancing at me -with a smile of gratification. - -'One of the highest,' I said, 'Such a charge being a great honour -to me, I felt that I could not better execute it madame, since we -must lie in Blois one night, than by requesting your hospitality -on her behalf.' - -I dared mademoiselle as I spoke--I dared her with my eye to -contradict or interrupt me. For answer, she looked at me once, -inclining her head a little, and gazing at us from under her long -eyelashes. Then she turned back to the fire, and her foot -resumed its angry tapping on the floor. - -'I regret that I cannot receive her better,' my mother answered -feebly. 'I have had losses of late. I--but I will speak of that -at another time. Mademoiselle doubtless knows,' she continued -with dignity, 'you and your position in the south too well to -think ill of the momentary straits to which she finds me -reduced.' - -I saw mademoiselle start, and I writhed under the glance of -covert scorn, of amazed indignation, which she shot at me. But -my mother gently patting my hand, I answered patiently, -'Mademoiselle will think only what is kind, madame--of that I am -assured. And lodgings are scarce to-night in Blois.' - -'But tell me of yourself, Gaston,' my mother cried eagerly; and I -had not the heart, with her touch on my hand, her eyes on my -face, to tear myself away, much as I dreaded what was coming, and -longed to end the scene. 'Tell me of yourself. You are still in -favour with the king of -- I will not name him here?' - -'Still, madame,' I answered, looking steadily at mademoiselle, -though my face burned. - -'You are still--he consults you, Gaston?' - -'Still, madame.' - -My mother heaved a happy sigh, and sank lower in the bed. 'And -your employments?' she murmured, her voice trembling with -gratification. 'They have not been reduced? You still retain -them, Gaston?' - -'Still, madame,' I answered, the perspiration standing on my -brow, my shame almost more than I could bear. - -'Twelve thousand livres a year, I think?' - -'The same, madame.' - -'And your establishment? How many do you keep now? Your valet, -of course? And lackeys--how many at present?' She glanced, with -an eye of pride, while she waited for my answer, first at the two -silent figures by the fire, then at the poverty-stricken room; as -if the sight of its bareness heightened for her the joy of my -prosperity. - -She had no suspicion of my trouble, my misery, or that the last -question almost filled the cup too full. Hitherto all had been -easy, but this seemed to choke me. I stammered and lost my -voice. Mademoiselle, her head bowed, was gazing into the fire. -Fanchette was staring at me, her black eyes round as saucers, her -mouth half-open. 'Well, madame,' I muttered at length, 'to tell -you the truth, at present, you must understand, I have been -forced to--' - -'What, Gaston?' Madame de Bonne half rose in bed. Her voice was -sharp with disappointment and apprehension; the grasp of her -fingers on my hand grew closer. - -I could not resist that appeal. I flung away the last rag of -shame. 'To reduce my establishment somewhat,' I answered, -looking a miserable defiance at mademoiselle's averted figure. -She had called me a liar and a cheat--here in the room! I must -stand before her a liar and a cheat confessed. 'I keep but three -lackeys now, madame.' - -Still it is creditable,' my mother muttered thoughtfully, her -eyes shining. 'Your dress, however, Gaston--only my eyes are -weak--seems to me--' - -'Tut, tut! It is but a disguise,' I answered quickly. - -'I might have known that,' she rejoined, sinking back with a -smile and a sigh of content. 'But when I first saw you I was -almost afraid that something had happened to you. And I have -been uneasy lately,' she went on, releasing my hand, and -beginning to play with the coverlet, as though the remembrance -troubled her. 'There was a man here a while ago--a friend of -Simon Fleix there--who had been south to Pau and Nerac, and he -said there was no M. de Marsac about the Court.' - -'He probably knew less of the Court than the wine-tavern,' I -answered with a ghastly smile. - -'That was just what I told him,' my mother responded quickly and -eagerly. 'I warrant you I sent him away ill-satisfied.' - -'Of course,' I said; 'there will always be people of that kind. -But now, if you will permit me, madame, I will make such -arrangements for mademoiselle as are necessary.' - -Begging her accordingly to lie down and compose herself--for even -so short a conversation, following on the excitement of our -arrival, had exhausted her to a painful degree--I took the youth, -who had just returned from stabling our horses, a little aside, -and learning that he lodged in a smaller chamber on the farther -side of the landing, secured it for the use of mademoiselle and -her woman. In spite of a certain excitability which marked him -at times, he seemed to be a quick, ready fellow, and he willingly -undertook to go out, late as it was, and procure some provisions -and a few other things which were sadly needed, as well for my -mother's comfort as for our own. I directed Fanchette to aid him -in the preparation of the other chamber, and thus for a while I -was left alone with mademoiselle. She had taken one of the -stools, and sat cowering over the fire, the hood of her cloak -drawn about her head; in such a manner that even when she looked -at me, which she did from time to time, I saw little more than -her eyes, bright with contemptuous anger. - -'So, sir,' she presently began, speaking in a low voice, and -turning slightly towards me, 'you practise lying even here?' - -I felt so strongly the futility of denial or explanation that I -shrugged my shoulders and remained silent under the sneer. Two -more days--two more days would take us to Rosny, and my task -would be done, and Mademoiselle and I would part for good and -all. What would it matter then what she thought of me? What did -it matter now? - -For the first time in our intercourse my silence seemed to -disconcert and displease her. 'Have you nothing to say for -yourself?' she muttered sharply, crushing a fragment of charcoal -under her foot, and stooping to peer at the ashes. 'Have you not -another lie in your quiver, M. de Marsac?' De Marsac!' And she -repeated the title, with a scornful laugh, as if she put no faith -in my claim to it. - -But I would answer nothing--nothing; and we remained silent until -Fanchette, coming in to say that the chamber was ready, held the -light for her mistress to pass out. I told the woman to come -back and fetch mademoiselle's supper, and then, being left alone -with my mother, who had fallen asleep, with a smile on her thin, -worn face, I began to wonder what had happened to reduce her to -such dire poverty. - -I feared to agitate her by referring to it; but later in the -evening, when her curtains were drawn and Simon Fleix and I were -left together, eyeing one another across the embers like dogs of -different breeds--with a certain strangeness and suspicion--my -thoughts recurred to the question; and determining first to learn -something about my companion, whose pale, eager face and -tattered, black dress gave him a certain individuality, I asked -him whether he had come from Paris with Madame de Bonne. - -He nodded without speaking. - -I asked him if he had known her long. - -'Twelve months,' he answered. 'I lodged on the fifth, madame on -the second, floor of the same house in Paris.' - -I leaned forward and plucked the hem of his black robe. 'What is -this?' I said, with a little contempt. 'You are not a priest, -man.' - -'No,' he answered, fingering the stuff himself, and gazing at me -in a curious, vacant fashion. 'I am a student of the Sorbonne.' - -I drew off from him with a muttered oath, wondering--while I -looked at him with suspicious eyes--how he came to be here, and -particularly how he came to be in attendance on my mother, who -had been educated from childhood in the Religion, and had -professed it in private all her life. I could think of no one -who, in old days, would have been less welcome in her house than -a Sorbonnist, and began to fancy that here should lie the secret -of her miserable condition. - -'You don't like, the Sorbonne?' he said, reading my thoughts; -which were, indeed, plain enough. - -'No more than I love the devil!' I said bluntly. - -He leaned forward and, stretching out a thin, nervous hand, laid -it on my knee. 'What if they are right, though?' he muttered, -his voice hoarse. 'What if they are right, M. de Marsac?' - -'Who right?' I asked roughly, drawing back afresh. - -'The Sorbonne.' he repeated, his face red with excitement, his -eyes peering uncannily into mine. 'Don't you see,' he continued, -pinching my knee in his earnestness, and thrusting his face -nearer and nearer to mine, 'it all turns on that? It all turns -on that--salvation or damnation! Are they right? Are you right? -You say yes to this, no to that, you white-coats; and you say it -lightly, but are you right? Are you right? Mon Dieu!' he -continued, drawing back abruptly and clawing the air with -impatience, 'I have read, read, read! I have listened to -sermons, theses, disputations, and I know nothing. I know no -more than when I began.' - -He sprang up and began to pace the floor, while I gazed at him -with a feeling of pity. A very learned person once told me that -the troubles of these times bred four kinds of men, who were much -to be compassionated: fanatics on the one side or the other, who -lost sight of all else in the intensity of their faith; men who, -like Simon Fleix, sought desperately after something to believe, -and found it not; and lastly, scoffers, who, believing in -nothing, looked on all religion as a mockery. - -He presently stopped walking--in his utmost excitement I remarked -that he never forgot my mother, but trod more lightly when he -drew near the alcove--and spoke again. 'You are a Huguenot?' he -said. - -'Yes,' I replied. - -'So is she,' he rejoined, pointing towards the bed. 'But do you -feel no doubts?' - -'None,' I said quietly. - -'Nor does she.' he answered again, stopping opposite me. You -made up your mind--how?' - -'I was born in the Religion,' I said. - -'And you have never questioned it?' - -'Never.' - -'Nor thought much about it?' - -'Not a great deal,' I answered. - -'Saint Gris!' he exclaimed in a low tone. 'And do you never -think of hell-fire--of the worm which dieth not, and the fire -which shall not be quenched? Do you never think of that, M. de -Marsac?' - -'No, my friend, never!' I answered, rising impatiently; for at -that hour, and in that silent, gloomy room I found his -conversation dispiriting. 'I believe what I was taught to -believe, and I strive to hurt no one but the enemy. I think -little; and if I were you I would think less. I would do -something, man--fight, play, work, anything but think! I leave -that to clerks.' - -'I am a clerk,' he answered. - -'A poor one, it seems,' I retorted, with a little scorn in my -tone. 'Leave it, man. Work! Fight! Do something!' - -'Fight?' he said, as if the idea were a novel one. 'Fight? But -there, I might be killed; and then hell-fire, you see!' - -'Zounds, man!' I cried, out of patience with a folly which, to -tell the truth, the lamp burning low, and the rain pattering on -the roof, made the skin of my back feel cold and creepy. 'Enough -of this! Keep your doubts and your fire to yourself! And answer -me,' I continued, sternly. 'How came Madame de Bonne so poor? -How did she come down to this place?' - -He sat down on his stool, the excitement dying quickly out of his -face. 'She gave away all her money,' he said slowly and -reluctantly. It may be imagined that this answer surprised me. -'Gave it away?' I exclaimed. 'To whom? And when?' - -He moved uneasily on his seat and avoided my eye, his altered -manner filling me with suspicions which the insight I had just -obtained into his character did not altogether preclude. At last -he said, 'I had nothing to do with it, if you mean that; nothing. -On the contrary, I have done all I could to make it up to her. I -followed her here. I swear that is so, M. de Marsac.' - -'You have not told me yet to whom she gave it,' I said sternly. - -'She gave it,' he muttered, 'to a priest.' - -'To what priest?' - -'I do not know his name. He is a Jacobin.' - -'And why?' I asked, gazing incredulously at the student. 'Why -did she give it to him? Come, come! have a care. Let me have -none of your Sorbonne inventions!' - -He hesitated a moment, looking at me timidly, and then seemed to -make up his mind to tell me. 'He found out--it was when we lived -in Paris, you understand, last June--that she was a Huguenot. It -was about the time they burned the Foucards, and he frightened -her with that, and made her pay him money, a little at first, and -then more and more, to keep her secret. When the king came to -Blois she followed his Majesty, thinking to be safer here; but -the priest came too, and got more money, and more, until he left -her--this.' - -'This!' I said. And I set my teeth together. - -Simon Fleix nodded, - -I looked round the wretched garret to which my mother had been -reduced, and pictured the days and hours of fear and suspense -through which she had lived; through which she must have lived, -with that caitiff's threat hanging over her grey head! I -thought of her birth and her humiliation; of her frail form and -patient, undying love for me; and solemnly, and before heaven, I -swore that night to punish the man. My anger was too great for -words, and for tears I was too old. I asked Simon Fleix no more -questions, save when the priest might be looked for again--which -he could not tell me--and whether he would know him again--to -which he answered, 'Yes.' But, wrapping myself in my cloak, I -lay down by the fire and pondered long and sadly. - -So, while I had been pinching there, my mother had been starving -here. She had deceived me, and I her. The lamp flickered, -throwing uncertain shadows as the draught tossed the strange -window-curtain to and fro. The leakage from the roof fell drop -by drop, and now and again the wind shook the crazy building, as -though it would lift it up bodily and carry it away. - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -AN EMPTY ROOM. - -Desiring to start as early as possible, that we might reach Rosny -on the second evening, I roused Simon Fleix before it was light, -and learning from him where the horses were stabled, went out to -attend to them; preferring to do this myself, that I might have -an opportunity of seeking out a tailor, and providing myself with -clothes better suited to my rank than those to which I had been -reduced of late. I found that I still had ninety crowns left of -the sum which the King of Navarre had given me, and twelve of -these I laid out on a doublet of black cloth with russet points -and ribands, a dark cloak lined with the same sober colour, and a -new cap and feather. The tradesman would fain have provided me -with a new scabbard also, seeing my old one was worn-out at the -heel; but this I declined, having a fancy to go with my point -bare until I should have punished the scoundrel who had made my -mother's failing days a misery to her; a business which, the King -of Navarre's once done, I promised myself to pursue with energy -and at all costs. - -The choice of my clothes, and a few alterations which it was -necessary to make in them, detained me some time, so that it was -later than I could have wished when I turned my face towards the -house again, bent on getting my party to horse as speedily as -possible. The morning, I remember, was bright, frosty, and cold; -the kennels were dry, the streets comparatively clean. Here and -there a ray of early sunshine, darting between the overhanging -eaves, gave promise of glorious travelling-weather. But the -faces, I remarked in my walk, did not reflect the surrounding -cheerfulness. Moody looks met me everywhere and on every side; -and while courier after courier galloped by me bound for the -castle, the townsfolk stood aloof is doorways listless and -inactive, or, gathering in groups in corners, talked what I took -to be treason under the breath. The queen-mother still lived, -but Orleans had revolted, and Sens and Mans, Chartres and Melun. -Rouen was said to be wavering, Lyons in arms, while Paris had -deposed her king, and cursed him daily from a hundred altars. In -fine, the great rebellion which followed the death of Guise, and -lasted so many years, was already in progress; so that on this -first day of the new year the king's writ scarce ran farther than -he could see, peering anxiously out from the towers above my -head. - -Reaching the house, I climbed the long staircase hastily, abusing -its darkness and foulness, and planning as I went how my mother -might most easily and quickly be moved to a better lodging. -Gaining the top of the last flight, I saw that mademoiselle's -door on the left of the landing was open, and concluding from -this that she was up, and ready to start, I entered my mother's -room with a brisk step and spirits reinforced by the crisp -morning air. - -But on the threshold I stopped, and stood silent and amazed. At -first I thought the room was empty. Then, at a second glance, I -saw the student. He was on his knees beside the bed in the -alcove, from which the curtain had been partially dragged away. -The curtain before the window had been torn down also, and the -cold light of day, pouring in on the unsightly bareness of the -room, struck a chill to my heart. A stool lay overturned by the -fire, and above it a grey cat, which I had not hitherto noticed, -crouched on a beam and eyed me with stealthy fierceness. -Mademoiselle was not to be seen, nor was Fanchette, and Simon -Fleix did not hear me. He was doing something at the bed--for my -mother it seemed. - -'What is it, man?' I cried softly, advancing on tiptoe to the -bedside. 'Where are the others?' - -The student looked round and saw me. His face was pale and -gloomy. His eyes burned, and yet there were tears in them, and -on his cheeks. He did not speak, but the chilliness, the -bareness, the emptiness of the room spoke for him, and my heart -sank. - -I took him by the shoulders. 'Find your tongue, man!' I said -angrily. 'Where are they?' - -He rose from his knees and stood staring at me. 'They are gone!' -he said stupidly. - -'Gone?' I exclaimed. 'Impossible! When? Whither?' - -'Half an hour ago. Whither--I do not know.' - -Confounded and amazed, I glared at him between fear and rage. -'You do not know?' I cried. 'They are gone, and you do not -know?' - -He turned suddenly on me and gripped my arm. 'No, I do not know! -I do not know!' he cried, with a complete change of manner and -in a tone of fierce excitement. 'Only, may the fiend go with -them! But I do know this. I know this, M. de Marsac, with whom -they went, these friends of yours! A fop came, a dolt, a fine -spark, and gave them fine words and fine speeches and a gold -token, and, hey presto! they went, and forgot you!' - -'What!' I cried, beginning to understand, and snatching fiercely -at the one clue in his speech. 'A gold token? They have been -decoyed away then! There is no time to be lost. I must follow.' - -'No, for that is not all!' he replied, interrupting me sternly, -while his grasp on my arm grew tighter and his eyes flashed as -they looked into mine. 'You have not heard all. They have gone -with one who called you an impostor, and a thief, and a beggar, -and that to your mother's face--and killed her! Killed her as -surely as if he had taken a sword to her, M. de Marsac! Will -you, after that, leave her for them?' - -He spoke plainly. And yet, God forgive me, it was some time -before I understood him: before I took in the meaning of his -words, or could transfer my thoughts from the absent to my mother -lying on the bed before me. When I did do so, and turned to her, -and saw her still face and thin hair straggling over the coarse -pillow, then, indeed, the sight overcame me. I thought no more -of others--for I thought her dead; and with a great and bitter -cry I fell on my knees beside her and hid my face. What, after -all, was this headstrong girl to me? What were even kings and -king's commissions to me beside her--beside the one human being -who loved me still, the one being of my blood and name left, the -one ever-patient, ever-constant heart which for years had beaten -only for me? For a while, for a few moments, I was worthy of -her; for I forgot all others. - -Simon Fleix roused me at last from my stupor, making me -understand that she was not dead, but in a deep swoon, the result -of the shock she had undergone. A leech, for whom he had -despatched a neighbour, came in as I rose, and taking my place, -presently restored her to consciousness. But her extreme -feebleness warned me not to hope for more than a temporary -recovery; nor had I sat by her long before I discerned that this -last blow, following on so many fears and privations, had reached -a vital part, and that she was even now dying. - -She lay for a while with her hand in mine and her eyes closed, -but about noon, the student, contriving to give her some broth, -she revived, and, recognising me, lay for more than an hour -gazing at me with unspeakable content and satisfaction. At the -end of that time, and when I thought she was past speaking, she -signed to me to bend over her, and whispered something, which at -first I could not catch. Presently I made it out to be, 'She is -gone--The girl you brought?' - -Much troubled, I answered yes, begging her not to think about the -matter. I need not have feared, however, for when she spoke -again she did so without emotion, and rather as one seeing -clearly something before her. - -'When you find her, Gaston,' she murmured, 'do not be angry with -her. It was not her fault. She--he deceived her. See!' - -I followed the direction rather of her eyes than her hand, and -found beneath the pillow a length of gold chain. 'She left -that?' I murmured, a strange tumult of emotions in my breast. - -'She laid it there,' my mother whispered. 'And she would have -stopped him saying what he did'--a shudder ran through my -mother's frame at the remembrance of the man's words, though her -eyes still gazed into mine with faith and confidence--'she would -have stopped him, but she could not, Gaston. And then he hurried -her away.' - -'He showed her a token, madame, did he not?' I could not for my -life repress the question, so much seemed to turn on the point. - -'A bit of gold,' my mother whispered, smiling faintly. 'Now let -me sleep.' And, clinging always to my hand, she closed her eyes. - -The student came back soon afterwards with some comforts for -which I had despatched him, and we sat by her until the evening -fell, and far into the night. It was a relief to me to learn -from the leech that she had been ailing for some time, and that -in any case the end must have come soon. She suffered no pain -and felt no fears, but meeting my eyes whenever she opened her -own, or came out of the drowsiness which possessed her, thanked -God, I think, and was content. As for me, I remember that room -became, for the time, the world. Its stillness swallowed up all -the tumults which filled the cities of France, and its one -interest the coming and going of a feeble breath--eclipsed the -ambitions and hopes of a lifetime. - -Before it grew light Simon Fleix stole out to attend to the -horses. When he returned he came to me and whispered in my ear -that he had something to tell me; and my mother lying in a quiet -sleep at the time, I disengaged my hand, and, rising softly, went -with him to the hearth. - -Instead of speaking, he held his fist before me and suddenly -unclosed the fingers. 'Do you know it?' he said, glancing at me -abruptly. - -I took what he held, and looking at it, nodded. It was a knot of -velvet of a peculiar dark red colour, and had formed, as I knew -the moment I set eyes on it, part of the fastening of -mademoiselle's mask. 'Where did you find it?' I muttered, -supposing that he had picked it up on the stairs. - -'Look at it!' he answered impatiently. 'You have not looked.' - -I turned it over, and then saw something which had escaped me at -first--that the wider part of the velvet was disfigured by a -fantastic stitching, done very roughly and rudely with a thread -of white silk. The stitches formed letters, the letters words. -With a start I read, 'A MOI!' and saw in a corner, in smaller -stitches, the initials 'C. d. l. V.' - -I looked eagerly at the student. 'Where did you find this?' I -said. - -'I picked it up in the street,' he answered quietly, 'not three -hundred paces from here.' - -I thought a moment. 'In the gutter, or near the wall?' I asked. - -'Near the wall, to be sure.' - -'Under a window?' - -'Precisely,' he said. 'You may be easy; I am not a fool. I -marked the place, M. de Marsac, and shall not forget it.' - -Even the sorrow and solicitude I felt on my mother's behalf-- -feelings which had seemed a minute before to secure me against -all other cares or anxieties whatever--were not proof against -this discovery. For I found myself placed in a strait so cruel I -must suffer either way. On the one hand, I could not leave my -mother; I were a heartless ingrate to do that. On the other, I -could not, without grievous pain, stand still and inactive while -Mademoiselle de la Vire, whom I had sworn to protect, and who was -now suffering through my laches and mischance, appealed to me for -help. For I could not doubt that this was what the bow of velvet -meant; still less that it was intended for me, since few save -myself would be likely to recognise it, and she would naturally -expect me to make some attempt at pursuit. - -And I could not think little of the sign. Remembering -mademoiselle's proud and fearless spirit, and the light in which -she had always regarded me, I augured the worst from it. I felt -assured that no imaginary danger and no emergency save the last -would have induced her to stoop so low; and this consideration, -taken with the fear I felt that she had fallen into the hands of -Fresnoy, whom I believed to be the person who had robbed me of -the gold coin, filled me with a horrible doubt which way my duty -lay. I was pulled, as it were, both ways. I felt my honour -engaged both to go and to stay, and while my hand went to my -hilt, and my feet trembled to be gone, my eyes sought my mother, -and my ears listened for her gentle breathing. - -Perplexed and distracted, I looked at the student, and he at me. -'You saw the man who took her away,' I muttered. Hitherto, in my -absorption on my mother's account, I had put few questions, and -let the matter pass as though it moved me little and concerned me -less. 'What was he like? Was he a big, bloated man, Simon, with -his head bandaged, or perhaps a wound on his face?' - -'The gentleman who went away with mademoiselle, do you mean?' he -asked. - -'Yes, yes, gentleman if you like!' - -'Not at all,' the student answered. 'He was a tall young -gallant, very gaily dressed, dark-haired, and with a rich -complexion, I heard him tell her that he came from a friend of -hers too high to be named in public or in Blois. He added that -he brought a token from him; and when mademoiselle mentioned you ---she had just entered madame's room with her woman when he -appeared--' - -'He had watched me out, of course.' - -'Just so. Well, when she mentioned you, he swore you were an -adventurer, and a beggarly impostor, and what not, and bade her -say whether she thought it likely that her friend would have -entrusted such a mission to such a man.' - -'And then she went with him?' - -The student nodded. - -'Readily? Of her own free-will?' - -'Certainly,' he answered. 'It seemed so to me. She tried to -prevent him speaking before your mother, but that was all.' - -On the impulse of the moment I took a step towards the door; -recollecting my position, I turned back with a groan. Almost -beside myself, and longing for any vent for my feelings, I caught -the lad by the shoulder, where he stood on the hearth, and shook -him to and fro. - -'Tell me, man, what am I to do?' I said between my teeth. -'Speak! think! invent something!' - -But he shook his head. - -I let him go with a muttered oath, and sat down on a stool by the -bed and took my head between my hands. At that very moment, -however, relief came--came from an unexpected quarter. The door -opened and the leech entered. He was a skilful man, and, though -much employed about the Court, a Huguenot--a fact which had -emboldened Simon Fleix to apply to him through the landlord of -the 'Bleeding Heart,' the secret rendezvous of the Religion in -Blois. When he had made his examination he was for leaving, -being a grave and silent man, and full of business, but at the -door I stopped him. - -'Well, sir?' I said in a low tone, my hand on his cloak. - -'She has rallied, and may live three days,' he answered quietly. -'Four, it may be, and as many more as God wills.' - -Pressing two crowns into his hand, I begged him to call daily, -which he promised to do; and then he went. My mother was still -dozing peacefully, and I turned to Simon Fleix, my doubts -resolved and my mind made up. - -'Listen,' I said, 'and answer me shortly. We cannot both leave; -that is certain. Yet I must go, and at once, to the place where -you found the velvet knot. Do you describe the spot exactly, so -that I may find it, and make no mistake.' - -He nodded, and after a moment's reflection answered, - -'You know the Rue St. Denys, M. de Marsac? Well, go down it, -keeping the "Bleeding Heart" on your left. Take the second -turning on the same side after passing the inn. The third house -from the corner, on the left again, consists of a gateway leading -to the Hospital of the Holy Cross. Above the gateway are two -windows in the lower story, and above them two more. The knot -lay below the first window you come to. Do you understand?' - -'Perfectly,' I said. 'It is something to be a clerk, Simon.' - -He looked at me thoughtfully, but added nothing; and I was busy -tightening my sword-hilt, and disposing my cloak about the lower -part of my face. When I had arranged this to my satisfaction, I -took out and counted over the sum of thirty-five crowns, which I -gave to him, impressing on him the necessity of staying beside my -mother should I not return; for though I proposed to reconnoitre -only, and learn if possible whether mademoiselle was still in -Blois, the future was uncertain, and whereas I was known to my -enemies, they were strangers to me. - -Having enjoined this duty upon him, I bade my mother a silent -farewell, and, leaving the room, went slowly down the stairs, the -picture of her worn and patient face going with me, and seeming, -I remember, to hallow the purpose I had in my mind. - -The clocks were striking the hour before noon as I stepped from -the doorway, and, standing a moment in the lane, looked this way -and that for any sign of espionage. I could detect none, -however. The lane was deserted; and feeling assured that any -attempt to mislead my opponents, who probably knew Blois better -than I did, must fail, I made none, but deliberately took my way -towards the 'Bleeding Heart,' in the Rue St. Denys. The streets -presented the same appearance of gloomy suspense which I had -noticed on the previous day. The same groups stood about in the -same corners, the same suspicious glances met me in common with -all other strangers who showed themselves; the same listless -inaction characterised the townsfolk, the same anxious hurry -those who came and went with news. I saw that even here, under -the walls of the palace, the bonds of law and order were strained -almost to bursting, and judged that if there ever was a time in -France when right counted for little, and the strong hand for -much, it was this. Such a state of things was not unfavourable -to my present design, and caring little for suspicious looks, I -went resolutely on my way. - -I had no difficulty in finding the gateway of which Simon had -spoken, or in identifying the window beneath which he had picked -up the velvet knot. An alley opening almost opposite, I took -advantage of this to examine the house at my leisure, and -remarked at once, that whereas the lower window was guarded only -by strong shutters, now open, that in the story above was heavily -barred. Naturally I concentrated my attention on the latter. -The house, an old building of stone, seemed sufficiently -reputable, nor could I discern anything about it which would have -aroused my distrust had the knot been found elsewhere. It bore -the arms of a religious brotherhood, and had probably at one time -formed the principal entrance to the hospital, which still stood -behind it, but it had now come, as I judged, to be used as a -dwelling of the better class. Whether the two floors were -separately inhabited or not I failed to decide. - -After watching it for some time without seeing anyone pass in or -out, or anything occurring to enlighten me one way or the other, -I resolved to venture in, the street being quiet and the house -giving no sign of being strongly garrisoned. The entrance lay -under the archway, through a door on the right side. I judged -from what I saw that the porter was probably absent, busying -himself with his gossips in matters of State. - -And this proved to be the case, for when I had made the passage -of the street with success, and slipped quietly in through the -half-open door, I found only his staff and charcoal-pan there to -represent him. A single look satisfied me on that point; -forthwith, without hesitation, I turned to the stairs and began -to mount, assured that if I would effect anything single-handed I -must trust to audacity and surprise rather than to caution or -forethought. - -The staircase was poorly lighted by loopholes looking towards the -rear, but it was clean and well-kept. Silence, broken only by -the sound of my footsteps, prevailed throughout the house, and -all seemed so regular and decent and orderly that the higher I -rose the lower fell my hopes of success. Still, I held -resolutely on until I reached the second floor and stood before a -closed door. The moment had come to put all to the touch. I -listened for a few seconds but hearing nothing, cautiously lifted -the latch. Somewhat to my surprise the door yielded to my hand, -and I entered. - -A high settle stood inside, interrupting my view of the room, -which seemed to be spacious and full of rich stuffs and -furniture, but low in the roof, and somewhat dimly lighted by two -windows rather wide than high. The warm glow of a fire shone on -the woodwork of the ceiling, and as I softly closed the door a -log on the hearth gave way, with a crackling of sparks, which -pleasantly broke the luxurious silence. The next moment a low, -sweet voice asked, 'Alphonse, is that you?' - -I walked round the settle and came face to face with a beautiful -woman reclining on a couch. On hearing the door open she had -raised herself on her elbow. Now, seeing a stranger before her, -she sprang up with a low cry, and stood gazing at me, her face -expressing both astonishment and anger. She was of middling -height, her features regular though somewhat childlike, her -complexion singularly fair. A profusion of golden hair hung in -disorder about her neck, and matched the deep blue of her eyes, -wherein it seemed to me, there lurked more spirit and fire than -the general cast of her features led one to expect. - -After a moment's silence, during which she scanned me from head -to foot with great haughtiness--and I her with curiosity and -wonder--she spoke. 'Sir!' she said slowly, 'to what am I to -attribute this--visit?' - -For the moment I was so taken aback by her appearance and -extraordinary beauty, as well as by the absence of any sign of -those I sought, that I could not gather my thoughts to reply, but -stood looking vaguely at her. I had expected, when I entered the -room, something so different from this! - -'Well, sir?' she said again, speaking sharply, and tapping her -foot on the floor. - -'This visit, madame?' I stammered. - -'Call it intrusion, sir, if you please!' she cried imperiously. -'Only explain it, or begone.' - -'I crave leave to do both, madame,' I answered, collecting myself -by an effort. 'I ascended these stairs and opened your door in -error--that is the simple fact--hoping to find a friend of mine -here. I was mistaken, it seems, and it only remains for me to -withdraw, offering at the same time the humblest apologies,' And -as I spoke I bowed low and prepared to retire. - -'One moment, sir!' she said quickly, and in an altered tone. -'You are, perhaps, a friend of M. de Bruhl--of my husband. In -that case, if you desire to leave any message I will--I shall be -glad to deliver it.' - -She looked so charming that, despite the tumult of my feelings, I -could not but regard her with admiration. 'Alas! madame, I -cannot plead that excuse,' I answered. 'I regret that I have not -the honour of his acquaintance.' - -She eyed me with some surprise. 'Yet still, sir,' she answered, -smiling a little, and toying with a gold brooch which clasped her -habit, 'you must have had some ground, some reason, for supposing -you would find a friend here?' - -'True, madame,' I answered, 'but I was mistaken.' - -I saw her colour suddenly. With a smile and a faint twinkle of -the eye she said, 'It is not possible, sir, I suppose--you have -not come here, I mean, out of any reason connected with a--a knot -of velvet, for instance?' - -I started, and involuntarily advanced a step towards her. 'A -knot of velvet!' I exclaimed, with emotion. 'Mon Dieu! Then I -was not mistaken! I have come to the right house, and you--you -know something of this! Madame,' I continued impulsively, 'that -knot of velvet? Tell me what it means, I implore you!' - -She seemed alarmed by my violence, retreating a step or two, and -looking at me haughtily, yet with a kind of shame-facedness. -'Believe me, it means nothing,' she said hurriedly. 'I beg you -to understand that, sir. It was a foolish jest.' - -'A jest?' I said. 'It fell from this window.' - -'It was a jest, sir,' she answered stubbornly. But I could see -that, with all her pride, she was alarmed; her face was troubled, -and there were tears in her eyes. And this rendered me under the -circumstances only the more persistent. - -'I have the velvet here, madame,' I said. 'You must tell me more -about it.' - -She looked at me with a weightier impulse of anger than she had -yet exhibited. 'I do not think you know to whom you are -speaking,' she said, breathing fast. 'Leave the room, sir, and -at once! I have told you it was a jest. If you are a gentleman -you will believe me, and go.' And she pointed to the door. - -But I held my ground, with an obstinate determination to pierce -the mystery. 'I am a gentleman, madame,' I said, 'and yet I must -know more. Until I know more I cannot go.' - -'Oh, this is insufferable!' she cried, looking round as if for a -way of escape; but I was between her and the only door. 'This is -unbearable! The knot was never intended for you, sir. And what -is more, if M. de Bruhl comes and finds you here, you will repent -it bitterly.' - -I saw that she was at least as much concerned on her own account -as on mine, and thought myself justified under the circumstances -in taking advantage of her fears. I deliberately laid my cap on -the table which stood beside me. 'I will go madame,' I said, -looking at her fixedly, 'when I know all that you know about this -knot I hold, and not before. If you are unwilling to tell me, I -must wait for M. de Bruhl, and ask him.' - -She cried out 'Insolent!' and looked at me as if in her rage and -dismay she would gladly have killed me; being, I could see, a -passionate woman. But I held my ground, and after a moment she -spoke. 'What do you want to know?' she said, frowning darkly. - -'This knot--how did it come to lie in the street below your -window? I want to know that first.' - -'I dropped it,' she answered sullenly. - -'Why?' I said. - -'Because--' And then she stopped and looked at me, and then again -looked down, her face crimson. 'Because, if you must know,' she -continued hurriedly, tracing a pattern on the table with her -finger, 'I saw it bore the words "A MOI." I have been married -only two months, and I thought my husband might find it--and -bring it to me. It was a silly fancy.' - -'But where did you get it?' I asked, and I stared at her in -growing wonder and perplexity. For the more questions I put, the -further, it seemed to me, I strayed from my object. - -'I picked it up in the Ruelle d'Arcy,' she answered, tapping her -foot on the floor resentfully. 'It was the silly thing put it -into my head to--to do what I did. And now, have you any more -questions, sir?' - -'One only,' I said, seeing it all clearly enough. 'Will you tell -me, please, exactly where you found it?' - -'I have told you. In the Ruelle d'Arcy, ten paces from the Rue -de Valois. Now, sir, will you go?' - -'One word, madame. Did--' - -But she cried, 'Go, sir, go! go!' so violently, that after -making one more attempt to express my thanks, I thought it better -to obey her. I had learned all she knew; I had solved the -puzzle. But, solving it, I found myself no nearer to the end I -had in view, no nearer to mademoiselle. I closed the door with a -silent bow, and began to descend the stairs, my mind full of -anxious doubts and calculations. The velvet knot was the only -clue I possessed, but was I right; in placing any dependence on -it? I knew now that, wherever it had originally lain, it had -been removed once. If once, why not twice? why not three times? - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -THE HOUSE IN THE RUELLE D'ARCY. - -I had not gone down half a dozen steps before I heard a man enter -the staircase from the street, and begin to ascend. It struck me -at once that this might be M. de Bruhl; and I realised that I had -not left madame's apartment a moment too soon. The last thing I -desired, having so much on my hands, was to embroil myself with a -stranger, and accordingly I quickened my pace, hoping to meet him -so near the foot of the stairs as to leave him in doubt whether I -had been visiting the upper or lower part of the house. The -staircase was dark, however, and being familiar with it, he had -the advantage over me. He came leaping up two steps at a time, -and turning the angle abruptly, surprised me before I was clear -of the upper flight. - -On seeing me, he stopped short and stared; thinking at first, I -fancy, that he ought to recognise me. When he did not, he stood -back a pace. 'Umph!' he said. 'Have you been--have you any -message for me, sir?' - -'No,' I said, 'I have not.' - -He frowned. 'I am M. de Bruhl,' he said. - -'Indeed?' I muttered, not knowing what else to say. - -'You have been--' - -'Up your stairs, sir? Yes. In error,' I answered bluntly. - -He gave a kind of grunt at that, and stood aside, incredulous and -dissatisfied, yet uncertain how to proceed. I met his black -looks with a steady countenance, and passed by him, becoming -aware, however, as I went on down the stairs that he had turned -and was looking after me. He was a tall, handsome man, dark, and -somewhat ruddy of complexion, and was dressed in the extreme of -Court fashion, in a suit of myrtle-green trimmed with sable. He -carried also a cloak lined with the same on his arm. Beyond -looking back when I reached the street, to see that he did not -follow me, I thought no more of him. But we were to meet again, -and often. Nay, had I then known all that was to be known I -would have gone back and--But of that in another place. - -The Rue de Valois, to which a tradesman, who was peering -cautiously out of his shop, directed me, proved to be one of the -main streets of the city, narrow and dirty, and darkened by -overhanging eaves and signboards, but full of noise and bustle. -One end of it opened on the PARVIS of the Cathedral; the other -and quieter end appeared to abut on the west gate of the town. -Feeling the importance of avoiding notice in the neighbourhood of -the house I sought, I strolled into the open space in front of -the Cathedral, and accosting two men who stood talking there, -learned that the Ruelle d'Arcy was the third lane on the right of -the Rue de Valois, and some little distance along it. Armed with -this information I left them, and with my head bent down, and my -cloak drawn about the lower part of my face, as if I felt the -east wind, I proceeded down the street until I reached the -opening of the lane. Without looking up I turned briskly into -it. - -When I had gone ten paces past the turning, however, I stopped -and, gazing about me, began to take in my surroundings as fast as -I could. The lane, which seemed little frequented, was eight or -nine feet wide, unpaved, and full of ruts. The high blank wall -of a garden rose on one side of it, on the other the still higher -wall of a house; and both were completely devoid of windows, a -feature which I recognised with the utmost dismay. For it -completely upset all my calculations. In vain I measured with my -eye the ten paces I had come; in vain I looked up, looked this -way and that. I was nonplussed. No window opened on the lane at -that point, nor, indeed, throughout its length. For it was -bounded to the end, as far as I could see, by dead-walls as of -gardens. - -Recognising, with a sinking heart, what this meant, I saw in a -moment that all the hopes I had raised on Simon Fleix's discovery -were baseless. Mademoiselle had dropped the velvet bow, no -doubt, but not from a window. It was still a clue, but one so -slight and vague as to be virtually useless, proving only that -she was in trouble and in need of help; perhaps that she had -passed through this lane on her way from one place of confinement -to another. - -Thoroughly baffled and dispirited, I leant for awhile against the -wall, brooding over the ill-luck which seemed to attend me in -this, as in so many previous adventures. Nor was the low voice -of conscience, suggesting that such failures arose from -mismanagement rather than from ill-luck, slow to make itself -heard. I reflected that if I had not allowed myself to be robbed -of the gold token, mademoiselle would have trusted me; that if I -had not brought her to so poor an abode as my mother's, she would -not have been cajoled into following a stranger; finally, that if -I had remained with her, and sent Simon to attend to the horses -in my place, no stranger would have gained access to her. - -But it has never been my way to accept defeat at the first offer, -and though I felt these self-reproaches to be well deserved, a -moment's reflection persuaded me that in the singular and -especial providence which had brought the velvet knot safe to my -hands I ought to find encouragement. Had Madame de Bruhl not -picked it up it would have continued to lie in this by-path, -through which neither I nor Simon Fleix would have been likely to -pass. Again, had madame not dropped it in her turn, we should -have sought in vain for any, even the slightest, clue to -Mademoiselle de la Vire's fate or position. - -Cheered afresh by this thought, I determined to walk to the end -of the lane; and forthwith did so, looking sharply about me as I -went, but meeting no one. The bare upper branches of a tree rose -here and there above the walls, which were pierced at intervals -by low, strong doors. These doors I carefully examined, but -without making any discovery; all were securely fastened, and -many seemed to have been rarely opened. Emerging at last and -without result on the inner side of the city ramparts, I turned, -and moodily retraced my steps through the lane, proceeding more -slowly as I drew near to the Rue de Valois. This time, being a -little farther from the street, I made a discovery. - -The corner house, which had its front on the Rue Valois, -presented, as I have said, a dead, windowless wall to the lane; -but from my present standpoint I could see the upper part of the -back of this house--that part of the back, I mean, which rose -above the lower garden-wall that abutted on it--and in this there -were several windows. The whole of two and a part of a third -were within the range of my eyes; and suddenly in one of these I -discovered something which made my heart beat high with hope and -expectation. The window in question was heavily grated; that -which I saw was tied to one of the bars. It was a small knot of -some white stuff--linen apparently--and it seemed a trifle to the -eye; but it was looped, as far as I could see from a distance, -after the same fashion as the scrap of velvet I had in my pouch. - -The conclusion was obvious, at the same time that it inspired me -with the liveliest admiration of mademoiselle's wit and -resources. She was confined in that room; the odds were that she -was behind those bars. A bow dropped thence would fall, the wind -being favourable, into the lane, not ten, but twenty paces from -the street. I ought to have been prepared for a slight -inaccuracy in a woman's estimate of distance. - -It may be imagined with what eagerness I now scanned the house, -with what minuteness I sought for a weak place. The longer I -looked, however, the less comfort I derived from my inspection. -I saw before me a gloomy stronghold of brick, four-square, and -built in the old Italian manner, with battlements at the top, and -a small machicolation, little more than a string-course, above -each story; this serving at once to lessen the monotony of the -dead-walls, and to add to the frowning weight of the upper part. -The windows were few and small, and the house looked damp and -mouldy; lichens clotted the bricks, and moss filled the string- -courses. A low door opening from the lane into the garden -naturally attracted my attention; but it proved to be of abnormal -strength, and bolted both at the top and bottom. - -Assured that nothing could be done on that side, and being -unwilling to remain longer in the neighbourhood, lest I should -attract attention, I returned to the street, and twice walked -past the front of the house, seeing all I could with as little -appearance of seeing anything as I could compass. The front -retreated somewhat from the line of the street, and was flanked -on the farther side by stables. Only one chimney smoked, and -that sparely. Three steps led up to imposing double doors, which -stood half open, and afforded a glimpse of a spacious hall and a -state staircase. Two men, apparently servants, lounged on the -steps, eating chestnuts, and jesting with one another; and above -the door were three shields blazoned in colours. I saw with -satisfaction, as I passed the second time, that the middle coat -was that of Turenne impaling one which I could not read--which -thoroughly satisfied me that the bow of velvet had not lied; so -that, without more ado, I turned homewards, formulating my plans -as I went. - -I found all as I had left it; and my mother still lying in a -half-conscious state, I was spared the pain of making excuses for -past absence, or explaining that which I designed. I -communicated the plan I had formed to Simon Fleix, who saw no -difficulty in procuring a respectable person to stay with Madame -de Bonne. But for some time he would come no farther into the -business. He listened, his mouth open and his eyes glittering, -to my plan until I came to his share in it; and then he fell into -a violent fit of trembling. - -'You want me to fight, monsieur,' he cried reproachfully, shaking -all over like one in the palsy. 'You said so the other night. -You want to get me killed! That's it.' - -'Nonsense!' I answered sharply. 'I want you to hold the -horses!' - -He looked at me wildly, with a kind of resentment in his face, -and yet as if he were fascinated. - -'You will drag me into it!' he persisted. 'You will!' - -'I won't,' I said. - -'You will! You will! And the end I know. I shall have no -chance. I am a clerk, and not bred to fighting. You want to be -the death of me!' he cried excitedly. - -'I don't want you to fight,' I answered with some contempt. 'I -would rather that you kept out of it for my mother's sake. I -only want you to stay in the lane and hold the horses. You will -run little more risk than you do sitting by the hearth here.' - -And in the end I persuaded him to do what I wished; though still, -whenever he thought of what was in front of him, he fell a- -trembling again, and many times during the afternoon got up and -walked to and fro between the window and the hearth, his face -working and his hands clenched like those of a man in a fever. I -put this down at first to sheer chicken-heartedness, and thought -it augured ill for my enterprise; but presently remarking that he -made no attempt to draw back, and that though the sweat stood on -his brow he set about such preparations as were necessary ---remembering also how long and kindly, and without pay or -guerdon, he had served my mother, I began to see that here was -something phenomenal; a man strange and beyond the ordinary, of -whom it was impossible to predicate what he would do when he came -to be tried. - -For myself, I passed the afternoon in a state almost of apathy. -I thought it my duty to make this attempt to free mademoiselle, -and to make it at once, since it was impossible to say what harm -might come of delay, were she in such hands as Fresnoy's; but I -had so little hope of success that I regarded the enterprise as -desperate. The certain loss of my mother, however, and the low -ebb of my fortunes, with the ever-present sense of failure, -contributed to render me indifferent to risks; and even when we -were on our way, through by-streets known to Simon, to the -farther end of the Ruelle d'Arcy, and the red and frosty sunset -shone in our faces, and gilded for a moment the dull eaves and -grey towers above us, I felt no softening. Whatever the end, -there was but one in the world whom I should regret, or who would -regret me; and she hung, herself, on the verge of eternity. - -So that I was able to give Simon Fleix his last directions with -as much coolness as I ever felt in my life. I stationed him with -the three horses in the lane--which seemed as quiet and little -frequented as in the morning--near the end of it, and about a -hundred paces or more from the house. - -'Turn their heads towards the ramparts,' I said, wheeling them -round myself, 'and then they will be ready to start. They are -all quiet enough. You can let the Cid loose. And now listen to -me, Simon,' I continued. 'Wait here until you see me return, or -until you see you are going to be attacked. In the first case, -stay for me, of course; in the second, save yourself as you -please. Lastly, if neither event occurs before half-past five-- -you will hear the convent-bell yonder ring at the half-hour-- -begone, and take the horses; they are yours, And one word more,' -I added hurriedly. 'If you can only get away with one horse, -Simon, take the Cid. It is worth more than most men, and will -not fail you at a pinch.' - -As I turned away, I gave him one look to see if he understood. -It was not without hesitation that after that look I left him. -The lad's face was flushed, he was breathing hard, his eyes -seemed to be almost starting from his head. He sat his horse -shaking in every limb, and had all the air of a man in a fit. I -expected him to call me back; but he did not, and reflecting that -I must trust him, or give up the attempt, I went up the lane with -my sword under my arm, and my cloak loose on my shoulders. I met -a man driving a donkey laden with faggots. I saw no one else. -It was already dusk between the walls, though light enough in the -open country; but that was in my favour, my only regret; being -that as the town gates closed shortly after half-past five, I -could not defer my attempt until a still later hour. - -Pausing in the shadow of the house while a man might count ten, I -impressed on my memory the position of the particular window -which bore the knot; then I passed quickly into the street, which -was still full of movement, and for a second, feeling myself safe -from observation in the crowd, I stood looking at the front of -the house. The door was shut. My heart sank when I saw this, -for I had looked to find it still open. - -The feeling, however, that I could not wait, though time might -present more than one opportunity, spurred me on. What I could -do I must do now, at once. The sense that this was so being -heavy upon me, I saw nothing for it but to use the knocker and -gain admission, by fraud if I could, and if not, by force. -Accordingly I stepped briskly across the kennel, and made for the -entrance. - -When I was within two paces of the steps, however, someone -abruptly threw the door open and stepped out. The man did not -notice me, and I stood quickly aside, hoping that at the last -minute my chance had come. Two men, who had apparently attended -this first person downstairs, stood respectfully behind him, -holding lights. He paused a moment on the steps to adjust his -cloak, and with more than a little surprise I recognised my -acquaintance of the morning, M. de Bruhl. - -I had scarcely time to identify him before he walked down the -steps swinging his cane, brushed carelessly past me, and was -gone. The two men looked after him awhile, shading their lights -from the wind, and one saying something, the other laughed -coarsely. The next moment they threw the door to and went, as I -saw by the passage of their light, into the room on the left of -the hall. - -Now was my time. I could have hoped for, prayed for, expected no -better fortune than this. The door had rebounded slightly from -the jamb, and stood open an inch or more. In a second I pushed -it from me gently, slid into the hall, and closed it behind me. - -The door of the room on the left was wide open, and the light -which shone through the doorway--otherwise the hall was dark--as -well as the voices of the two men I had seen, warned me to be -careful. I stood, scarcely daring to breathe, and looked about -me. There was no matting on the floor, no fire on the hearth. -The hall felt cold, damp, and uninhabited. The state staircase -rose in front of me, and presently bifurcating, formed a gallery -round the place. I looked up, and up, and far above me, in the -dim heights of the second floor, I espied a faint light--perhaps, -the reflection of a light. - -A movement in the room on my left warned me that I had no time to -lose, if I meant to act. At any minute one of the men might come -out and discover me. With the utmost care I started on my -journey. I stole across the stone floor of the hall easily and -quietly enough, but I found the real difficulty begin when I came -to the stairs. They were of wood, and creaked and groaned under -me to such an extent that, with each step I trod, I expected the -men to take the alarm. Fortunately all went well until I passed -the first corner--I chose, of course, the left-hand flight--then -a board jumped under my foot with a crack which sounded in the -empty hall, and to my excited ears, as loud as a pistol-shot. I -was in two minds whether I should not on the instant make a rush -for it, but happily I stood still. One of the men came out and -listened, and I heard the other ask, with an oath, what it was. -I leant against the wall, holding my breath. - -'Only that wench in one of her tantrums!' the man who had come -out answered, applying an epithet to her which I will not set -down, but which I carried to his account in the event of our -coming face to face presently. 'She is quiet now. She may -hammer and hammer, but--' - -The rest I lost, as he passed through the doorway and went back -to his place by the fire. But in one way his words were of -advantage to me. I concluded that I need not be so very cautious -now, seeing that they would set down anything they heard to the -same cause; and I sped on more quickly, I had just gained the -second floor landing when a loud noise below--the opening of the -street door and the heavy tread of feet in the hall--brought me -to a temporary standstill. I looked cautiously over the -balustrade, and saw two men go across to the room on the left. -One of them spoke as he entered, chiding the other knaves, I -fancied, for leaving the door unbarred; and the tone, though not -the words, echoing sullenly up the staircase, struck a familiar -chord in my memory. The voice was Fresnoy's! - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE FIGHT ON THE STAIRS. - -The certainty, which this sound gave me, that I was in the right -house, and that it held also the villain to whom I owed all my -misfortunes--for who but Fresnoy could have furnished the broken -coin which had deceived mademoiselle?--had a singularly -inspiriting effect upon me. I felt every muscle in my body grow -on the instant; hard as steel, my eyes more keen, my ears -sharper--all my senses more apt and vigorous. I stole off like a -cat from the balustrade, over which I had been looking, and -without a second's delay began the search for mademoiselle's -room; reflecting that though the garrison now amounted to four, I -had no need to despair. If I could release the prisoners without -noise--which would be easy were the key in the lock--we might -hope to pass through the hall by a tour de force of one kind or -another. And a church-clock at this moment striking Five, and -reminding me that we had only half an hour in which to do all and -reach the horses, I was the more inclined to risk something. - -The light which I had seen from below hung in a flat-bottomed -lantern just beyond the head of the stairs, and outside the -entrance to one of two passages which appeared to lead to the -back part of the house. Suspecting that M. de Bruhl's business -had lain with mademoiselle, I guessed that the light had been -placed for his convenience. With this clue and the position of -the window to guide me, I fixed on a door on the right of this -passage, and scarcely four paces from the head of the stairs. -Before I made any sign, however, I knelt down and ascertained -that there was a light in the room, and also that the key was not -in the lock. - -So far satisfied, I scratched on the door with my finger-nails, -at first softly, then with greater force, and presently I heard -someone in the room rise. I felt sure that the person whoever it -was had taken the alarm and was listening, and putting my lips to -the keyhole I whispered mademoiselle's name. - -A footstep crossed the room sharply, and I heard muttering just -within the door. I thought I detected two voices. But I was -impatient, and, getting no answer, whispered in the same manner -as before, 'Mademoiselle de la Vire, are you there?' - -Still no answer. The muttering, too, had stopped, and all was -still--in the room, and in the silent house. I tried again. 'It -is I, Gaston de Marsac,' I said. 'Do you hear? I am come to -release you.' I spoke as loudly as I dared, but most of the -sound seemed to come back on me and wander in suspicious -murmurings down the staircase. - -This time, however, an exclamation of surprise rewarded me, and a -voice, which I recognised at once as mademoiselle's, answered -softly: - -'What is it? Who is there?' - -'Gaston de Marsac,' I answered. 'Do you need my help?' - -The very brevity of her reply; the joyful sob which accompanied -it, and which I detected even through the door; the wild cry of -thankfulness--almost an oath--of her companion--all. these -assured me at once that I was welcome--welcome as I had never -been before--and, so assuring me, braced me to the height of any -occasion which might befall. - -'Can you open the door? I muttered. All the time I was on my -knees, my attention divided between the inside of the room and -the stray sounds which now and then came up to me from the hall -below. 'Have you the key?' - -'No; we are locked in,' mademoiselle answered. - -I expected this. 'If the door is bolted inside,' I whispered, -'unfasten it, if you please!' - -They answered that it was not, so bidding them stand back a -little from it, I rose and set my shoulder against it. I hoped -to be able to burst it in with only one crash, which by itself, a -single sound, might not alarm the men downstairs. But my weight -made no impression upon the lock, and the opposite wall being too -far distant to allow me to get any purchase for my feet, I -presently desisted. The closeness of the door to the jambs -warned me that an attempt to prise it open would be equally -futile; and for a moment I stood gazing in perplexity at the -solid planks, which bid fair to baffle me to the end. - -The position was, indeed, one of great difficulty, nor can I now -think of any way out of it better or other than that which I -adopted. Against the wall near the head of the stairs I had -noticed, as I came up, a stout wooden stool. I stole out and -fetched this, and setting it against the opposite wall, -endeavoured in this way to get sufficient purchase for my feet. -The lock still held; but, as I threw my whole weight on the door, -the panel against which I leaned gave way and broke inwards with -a loud, crashing sound, which echoed through the empty house, and -might almost have been beard in the street outside. - -It reached the ears, at any rate, of the men sitting below, and I -heard them troop noisily out and stand in the hall, now talking -loudly, and now listening. A minute of breathless suspense -followed--it seemed a long minute; and then, to my relief, they -tramped back again, and I was free to return to my task. Another -thrust, directed a little lower, would, I hoped, do the business; -but to make this the more certain I knelt down and secured the -stool firmly against the wall. As I rose after settling it, -something else, without sound or warning, rose also, taking me -completely by surprise--a man's head above the top stair, which, -as it happened, faced me. His eyes met mine, and I knew I was -discovered. - -He turned and bundled downstairs again with a scared face, going -so quickly that I could not have caught him if I would, or had -had the wit to try. Of silence there was so longer need. In a -few seconds the alarm would be raised. I had small time for -thought. Laying myself bodily against the door, I heaved and -pressed with all my strength; but whether I was careless in my -haste, or the cause was other, the lock did not give. Instead -the stool slipped, and I fell with a crash on the floor at the -very moment the alarm reached the men below. - -I remember that the crash of my unlucky fall seemed to release -all the prisoned noises of the house. A faint scream within the -room was but a prelude, lost the next moment in the roar of -dismay, the clatter of weapons, and volley of oaths and cries and -curses which, rolling up from below, echoed hollowly about me, as -the startled knaves rushed to their weapons, and charged across -the flags and up the staircase. I had space for one desperate -effort. Picking myself up, I seized the stool by two of its legs -and dashed it twice against the door, driving in the panel I had -before splintered. But that was all. The lock held, and I had -no time for a third blow. The men were already halfway up the -stairs. In a breath almost they would be upon me. I flung down -the useless stool and snatched up my sword, which lay unsheathed -beside me. So far the matter had gone against us, but it was -time for a change of weapons now, and the end was not yet. I -sprang to the head of the stairs and stood there, my arm by my -side and my point resting on the floor, in such an attitude of -preparedness as I could compass at the moment. - -For I had not been in the house all this time, as may well be -supposed, without deciding what I would do in case of surprise, -and exactly where I could best stand on the defensive. The flat -bottom of the lamp which hung outside the passage threw a deep -shadow on the spot immediately below it, while the light fell -brightly on the steps beyond. Standing in the shadow I could -reach the edge of the stairs with my point, and swing the blade -freely, without fear of the balustrade; and here I posted myself -with a certain grim satisfaction as Fresnoy, with his three -comrades behind him, came bounding up the last flight. - -They were four to one, but I laughed to see how, not abruptly, -but shamefacedly and by degrees, they came to a stand halfway up -the flight, and looked at me, measuring the steps and the -advantage which the light shining in their eyes gave me. -Fresnoy's ugly face was rendered uglier by a great strip of -plaister which marked the place where the hilt of my sword had -struck him in our last encounter at Chize; and this and the -hatred he bore to me gave a peculiar malevolence to his look. -The deaf man Matthew, whose savage stolidity had more than once -excited my anger on our journey, came next to him, the two -strangers whom I had seen in the hall bringing up the rear. Of -the four, these last seemed the most anxious to come to blows, -and had Fresnoy not barred the way with his hand we should have -crossed swords without parley. - -'Halt, will you!' he cried, with an oath, thrusting one of them -back. And then to me he said, 'So, so, my friend! It is you, is -it?' - -I looked at him in silence, with a scorn which knew no bounds, -and did not so much as honour him by raising my sword, though I -watched him heedfully. - -'What are you doing here? he continued, with an attempt at -bluster. - -Still I would not answer him, or move, but stood looking down at -him. After a moment of this, he grew restive, his temper being -churlish and impatient at the best. Besides, I think he retained -just so much of a gentleman's feelings as enabled him to -understand my contempt and smart under it. He moved a step -upward, his brow dark with passion. - -'You beggarly son of a scarecrow!' he broke out on a sudden, -adding a string of foul imprecations, 'will you speak, or are you -going to wait to be spitted where you stand? If we once begin, -my bantam, we shall not stop until we have done your business! -If you have anything to say, say it, and--' But I omit the rest -of his speech, which was foul beyond the ordinary. - -Still I did not move or speak, but looked at him unwavering, -though it pained me to think the women heard. He made a last -attempt.' Come, old friend,' he said, swallowing his anger -again, or pretending to do so, and speaking with a vile bonhomie -which I knew to be treacherous, 'if we come to blows we shall -give you no quarter. But one chance you shall have, for the sake -of old days when we followed Conde. Go! Take the chance, and -go. We will let you pass, and that broken door shall be the -worst of it. That is more,' he added with a curse, 'than I would -do for any other man in your place, M. de Marsac.' - -A sudden movement and a low exclamation in the room behind me -showed that his words were heard there; and these sounds being -followed immediately by a noise as of riving wood, mingled with -the quick breathing of someone hard at work, I judged that the -women were striving with the door--enlarging the opening it might -be. I dared not look round, however, to see what progress they -made, nor did I answer Fresnoy, save by the same silent contempt, -but stood watching the men before me with the eye of a fencer -about to engage. And I know nothing more keen, more vigilant, -more steadfast than that. - -It was well I did, for without signal or warning the group -wavered a moment, as though retreating, and the next instant -precipitated itself upon me. Fortunately, only two could engage -me at once, and Fresnoy, I noticed, was not of the two who dashed -forward up the steps. One of the strangers forced himself to the -front, and, taking the lead, pressed me briskly, Matthew -seconding him in appearance, while really watching for an -opportunity of running in and stabbing me at close quarters, a -manoeuvre I was not slow to detect. - -That first bout lasted half a minute only. A fierce exultant joy -ran through me as the steel rang and grated, and I found that I -had not mistaken the strength of wrist or position. The men were -mine. They hampered one another on the stairs, and fought in -fetters, being unable to advance or retreat, to lunge with -freedom, or give back without fear. I apprehended greater danger -from Matthew than from my actual opponent, and presently, -watching my opportunity, disarmed the latter by a strong parade, -and sweeping Matthew's sword aside by the same movement, slashed -him across the forehead; then, drawing back a step, gave my first -opponent the point. He fell in a heap on the floor, as good as -dead, and Matthew, dropping his sword, staggered backwards and -downwards into Fresnoy's arms. - -'Bonne Foi! France et Bonne Foi!' It seemed to me that I bad -not spoken, that I had plied steel in grimmest silence; and yet -the cry still rang and echoed in the roof as I lowered my point, -and stood looking grimly down at them. Fresnoy's face was -disfigured with rage and chagrin. They were now but two to one, -for Matthew, though his wound was slight, was disabled by the -blood which ran down into his eyes and blinded him. 'France et -Bonne Foi!' - -'Bonne Foi and good sword!' cried a voice behind me. And -looking swiftly round, I saw mademoiselle's face thrust through -the hole in the door. Her eyes sparkled with a fierce light, her -lips were red beyond the ordinary, and her hair, loosened and -thrown into disorder by her exertions, fell in thick masses about -her white cheeks, and gave her the aspect of a war-witch, such as -they tell of in my country of Brittany. 'Good sword!' she cried -again, and clapped her hands. - -'But better board, mademoiselle!' I answered gaily. Like most -of the men of my province, I am commonly melancholic, but I have -the habit of growing witty at such times as these. 'Now, M. -Fresnoy,' I continued, 'I am waiting your convenience. Must I -put on my cloak to keep myself warm?' - -He answered by a curse, and stood looking at me irresolutely. -'If you will come down,' he said. - -'Send your man away and I will come,' I answered briskly. 'There -is space on the landing, and a moderate light. But I must be -quick. Mademoiselle and I are due elsewhere, and we are late -already.' - -Still he hesitated. Still he looked at the man lying at his feet ---who had stretched himself out and passed, quietly enough, a -minute before--and stood dubious, the most pitiable picture of -cowardice and malice--he being ordinarily a stout man--I ever -saw. I called him poltroon and white-feather, and was -considering whether I had not better go down to him, seeing that -our time must be up, and Simon would be quitting his post, when a -cry behind me caused me to turn, and I saw that mademoiselle was -no longer looking through the opening in the door. - -Alarmed on her behalf, as I reflected that there might be other -doors to the room, and the men have other accomplices in the -house, I sprang to the door to see, but had basely time to send a -single glance round-the interior--which showed me only that the -room was still occupied--before Fresnoy, taking advantage of my -movement and of my back being turned, dashed up the stairs, with -his comrade at his heels, and succeeded in pinning me into the -narrow passage where I stood. - -I had scarcely time, indeed, to turn and put myself on guard -before he thrust at me. Nor was that all. The superiority in -position no longer lay with me. I found myself fighting between -walls close to the opening in the door, through which the light -fell athwart my eyes, baffling and perplexing me. Fresnoy was -not slow to see the aid this gave him, and pressed me hard and -desperately; so that we played for a full minute at close -quarters, thrusting and parrying, neither of us having room to -use the edge, or time to utter word or prayer. - -At this game we were so evenly matched that for a time the end -was hard to tell. Presently, however, there came a change. My -opponent's habit of wild living suited ill with a prolonged bout, -and as his strength and breath failed and he began to give ground -I discerned I had only to wear him out to have him at my mercy. -He felt this himself, and even by that light I saw the sweat -spring in great drops to his forehead, saw the terror grow in his -eyes. Already I was counting him a dead man and the victory -mine, when something hashed behind his blade, and his comrade's -poniard, whizzing past his shoulder, struck me fairly on the -chin, staggering me and hurling me back dizzy and half-stunned, -uncertain what had happened to me. - -Sped an inch lower it, would have done its work and finished -mine. Even as it was, my hand going up as I reeled back gave -Fresnoy an opening, of which he was not slow to avail himself. -He sprang forward, lunging at me furiously, and would have run me -through there and then, and ended the matter, bad not his foot, -as he advanced, caught in the stool, which still lay against the -wall. He stumbled, his point missed my hip by a hair's breadth, -and he himself fell all his length on the floor, his rapier -breaking off short at the hilt. - -His one remaining backer stayed to cast a look at him, and that -was all. The man fled, and I chased him as far as the head of -the stairs; where I left him, assured by the speed and agility he -displayed in clearing flight after flight that I had nothing to -fear from him. Fresnoy lay, apparently stunned, and completely -at my mercy. I stood an instant looking down at him, in two -minds whether I should not run him through. But the memory of -old days, when he had played his part in more honourable fashion -and shown a coarse good-fellowship in the field, held my hand; -and flinging a curse at him, I turned in anxious haste to the -door, the centre of all this bloodshed and commotion. The light -still shone through the breach in the panel, but for some -minutes--since Fresnoy's rush up the stairs, indeed--I had heard -no sound from this quarter. Now, looking in with apprehensions -which grew with the continuing silence, I learned the reason. -The room was empty! - -Such a disappointment in the moment of triumph was hard to bear. -I saw myself, after all done and won, on the point of being again -outwitted, distanced, it might be fooled. In frantic haste and -excitement I snatched up the stool beside me, and, dashing it -twice against the lock, forced it at last to yield. The door -swung open, and I rushed into the room, which, abandoned by those -who had so lately occupied it, presented nothing to detain me. I -cast a single glance round, saw that it was squalid, low-roofed, -unfurnished, a mere prison; then swiftly crossing the floor, I -made for a door at the farther end, which my eye had marked from -the first. A candle stood flaring and guttering on a stool, and -as I passed I took it up. - -Somewhat to my surprise the door yielded to my touch. In -trembling haste--for what might not befall the women while I -fumbled with doors or wandered in passages?--I flung it wide, and -passing through it, found myself at the head of a narrow, mean -staircase, leading, doubtless, to the servants' offices. At -this, and seeing no hindrance before me, I took heart of grace, -reflecting that mademoiselle might have escaped from the house -this way. Though it would now be too late to quit the city, I -might still overtake her, and all end well. Accordingly I -hurried down the stairs, shading my candle as I went from a cold -draught of air which met me, and grew stronger as I descended; -until reaching the bottom at last, I came abruptly upon an open -door, and an old, wrinkled, shrivelled woman. - -The hag screamed at sight of me, and crouched down on the floor; -and doubtless, with my drawn sword, and the blood dripping from -my chin and staining all the front of my doublet, I looked fierce -and uncanny enough. But I felt it was no time for sensibility--I -was panting to be away--and I demanded of her sternly where they -were. She seemed to have lost her voice--through fear, perhaps ---and for answer only stared at me stupidly; but on my handling -my weapon with some readiness she so far recovered her senses as -to utter two loud screams, one after the other, and point to the -door beside her. I doubted her; and yet I thought in her terror -she must be telling the truth, the more as I saw no other door. -In any case I must risk it, so, setting the candle down on the -step beside her, I passed out. - -For a moment the darkness was so intense that I felt my way with -my sword before me, in absolute ignorance where I was or on what -my foot might next rest. I was at the mercy of anyone who -chanced to be lying in wait for me; and I shivered as the cold -damp wind struck my cheek and stirred my hair. But by-and-by, -when I had taken two or three steps, my eyes grew accustomed to -the gloom, and I made, out the naked boughs of trees between -myself and the sky, and guessed that I was in a garden. My left -hand, touching a shrub, confirmed me in this belief, and in -another moment I distinguished something like the outline of a -path stretching away before me. Following it rapidly--as rapidly -as I dared--I came to a corner, as it seemed to me, turned it -blindly, and stopped short, peeping into a curtain of solid -blackness which barred my path, and overhead mingled confusedly -with the dark shapes of trees. But this, too, after a brief -hesitation, I made out to be a wall. Advancing to it with -outstretched hands, I felt the woodwork of a door, and, groping -about, lit presently on a loop of cord. I pulled at this, the -door yielded, and I went out. - -I found myself in a narrow, dark lane, and looking up and down -discovered, what I might have guessed before, that it, was the -Ruelle d'Arcy. But mademoiselle? Fanchette? Simon? Where were -they? No one was to be seen, Tormented by doubts, I lifted up my -voice and called on them in turn; first on mademoiselle, then on -Simon Fleix. In vain; I got no answer. High up above me I saw, -as I stood back a little, lights moving in the house I had left; -and the suspicion that, after all, the enemy had foiled me grew -upon me. Somehow they had decoyed mademoiselle to another part -of the house, and then the old woman had misled me! - -I turned fiercely to the door, which I had left ajar, resolved to -re-enter by the way I had come, and have an explanation whether -or no. To my surprise--for I had not moved six paces from the -door nor heard the slightest sound--I found it not; only closed -but bolted--bolted both at top and bottom, as I discovered on -trying it. - -I fell on that to kicking it furiously, desperately; partly in a -tempest of rage and chagrin, partly in the hope that I might -frighten the old woman, if it was she who had closed it, into -opening it again. In vain, of course; and presently I saw this -and desisted, and, still in a whirl of haste and excitement, set -off running towards the place where I had left Simon Fleix and -the horses. It was fully six o'clock as I judged; but some faint -hope that I might find him there with mademoiselle and her woman -still lingered in my mind. I reached the end of the lane, I ran -to the very foot; of the ramparts, I looked right and left. In -vain. The place was dark, silent, deserted. - -I called 'Simon! Simon! Simon Fleix!' but my only answer was -the soughing of the wind in the eaves, and the slow tones of the -convent-bell striking Six. - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE MAN AT THE DOOR. - -There are some things, not shameful in themselves, which it -shames one to remember, and among these I count the succeeding -hurry and perturbation of that night: the vain search, without -hope or clue, to which passion impelled me, and the stubborn -persistence with which I rushed frantically from place to place -long after the soberness of reason would have had me desist. -There was not, it seems to me, looking back now, one street or -alley, lane or court, in Blois which I did not visit again and -again in my frantic wanderings; not a beggar skulking on foot -that night whom I did not hunt down and question; not a wretched -woman sleeping in arch or doorway whom I did not see and -scrutinise. I returned to my mother's lodging again and again, -always fruitlessly. I rushed to the stables and rushed away -again, or stood and listened in the dark, empty stalls, wondering -what had happened, and torturing myself with suggestions of this -or that. And everywhere, not only at the North-gate, where I -interrogated the porters and found that no party resembling that -which I sought had passed out, but on the PARVIS of the -Cathedral, where a guard was drawn up, and in the common streets, -where I burst in on one group and another with my queries, I ran -the risk of suspicion and arrest, and all that might follow -thereon. - -It was strange indeed that I escaped arrest. The wound in my -chin still bled at intervals, staining my doublet; and as I was -without my cloak, which I had left in the house in the Rue -Valois, I had nothing to cover my disordered dress. I was -keenly, fiercely anxious. Stray passers meeting me in the glare -of a torch, or seeing me hurry by the great braziers which burned -where four streets met, looked askance at me and gave me the -wall; while men in authority cried to me to stay and answer their -questions. I ran from the one and the other with the same savage -impatience, disregarding everything in the feverish anxiety which -spurred me on and impelled me to a hundred imprudences, such as -at my age I should have blushed to commit. Much of this feeling -was due, no doubt, to the glimpse I had had of mademoiselle, and -the fiery words she had spoken; more, I fancy, to chagrin and -anger at the manner in which the cup of success had been dashed -at the last moment from my lips. - -For four hours I wandered through the streets, now hot with -purpose, now seeking aimlessly. It was ten o'clock when at -length I gave up the search, and, worn out both in body and mind, -climbed the stairs at my mother's lodgings and entered her room. -An old woman sat by the fire, crooning softly to herself, while -she stirred something in a black pot. My mother lay in the same -heavy, deep sleep in which I had left her. I sat down opposite -the nurse (who cried out at my appearance) and asked her dully -for some food. When I had eaten it, sitting in a kind of stupor -the while, the result partly of my late exertions, and partly of -the silence which prevailed round me, I bade the woman call me if -any change took place; and then going heavily across to the -garret Simon had occupied, I lay down on his pallet, and fell -into a sound, dreamless sleep. - -The next day and the next night I spent beside my mother, -watching the life ebb fast away, and thinking with grave sorrow -of her past and my future. It pained me beyond measure to see -her die thus, in a garret, without proper attendance or any but -bare comforts; the existence which had once been bright and -prosperous ending in penury and gloom, such as my mother's love -and hope and self-sacrifice little deserved. Her state grieved -me sharply on my own account too, seeing that I had formed none -of those familiar relations which men of my age have commonly -formed, and which console them for the loss of parents and -forbears; Nature so ordering it, as I have taken note, that men -look forward rather than backward, and find in the ties they form -with the future full compensation for the parting strands behind -them. I was alone, poverty-stricken, and in middle life, seeing -nothing before me except danger and hardship, and these -unrelieved by hope or affection. This last adventure, too, -despite all my efforts, had sunk me deeper in the mire; by -increasing my enemies and alienating from me some to whom I might -have turned at the worst. In one other respect also it had added -to my troubles not a little; for the image of mademoiselle -wandering alone and unguarded through the streets, or vainly -calling on me for help, persisted in thrusting itself on my -imagination when I least wanted it, and came even between my -mother's patient face and me. - -I was sitting beside Madame de Bonne a little after sunset on the -second day, the woman who attended her being absent on an errand, -when I remarked that the lamp, which had been recently lit, and -stood on a stool in the middle of the room, was burning low and -needed snuffing. I went to it softly, and while stooping over -it, trying to improve the light, heard a slow, heavy step -ascending the stairs. The house was quiet, and the sound -attracted my full attention. I raised myself and stood -listening, hoping that this might be the doctor, who had not been -that day. - -The footsteps passed the landing below, but at the first stair of -the next flight the person, whoever it was, stumbled, and made a -considerable noise. At that, or it might be a moment later, the -step still ascending, I heard a sudden rustling behind me, and, -turning quickly with a start, saw my mother sitting up in bed. -Her eyes were open, and she seemed fully conscious; which she had -not been for days, nor indeed since the last conversation I have -recorded. But her face, though it was now sensible, was pinched -and white, and so drawn with mortal fear that I believed her -dying, and sprang to her, unable to construe otherwise the -pitiful look in her straining eyes. - -'Madame,' I said, hastily passing my arm round her, and speaking -with as much encouragement as I could infuse into my voice, 'take -comfort. I am here. Your son.' - -'Hush!' she muttered in answer, laying her feeble hand on my -wrist and continuing to look, not at me, but at the door. -'Listen, Gaston! Don't you hear? There it is again. Again!' - -For a moment I thought her mind still wandered, and I shivered, -having no fondness for hearing such things. Then I saw she was -listening intently to the sound which had attracted my notice. -The step had reached the landing by this time. The visitor, -whoever it was, paused there a moment, being in darkness, and -uncertain, perhaps, of the position of the door; but in a little -while I heard him move forward again, my mother's fragile form, -clasped as it was in my embrace, quivering with each step he -took, as though his weight stirred the house. He tapped at the -door. - -I had thought, while I listened and wondered, of more than one -whom this might be: the leech, Simon Fleix, Madame Bruhl, -Fresnoy even. But as the tap came, and I felt my mother tremble -in my arms, enlightenment came with it, and I pondered no more, I -knew as well as if she hail spoken and told me. There could be -only one man whose presence had such power to terrify her, only -one whose mere step, sounding through the veil, could drag her -back to consciousness and fear! And that was the man who had -beggared her, who had traded so long on her terrors. - -I moved a little, intending to cross the floor softly, that when -he opened the door he might find me face to face with him; but -she detected the movement, and, love giving her strength, she -clung to my wrist so fiercely that I had not the heart, knowing -how slender was her hold on life and how near the brink she -stood, to break from her. I constrained myself to stand still, -though every muscle grew tense as a drawn bowstring, and I felt -the strong rage rising in my throat and choking me as I waited -for him to enter. - -A log on the hearth gave way with a dull sound startling in the -silence. The man tapped again, and getting no answer, for -neither of us spoke, pushed the door slowly open, uttering before -he showed himself the words, 'Dieu vous benisse!' in a voice so -low and smooth I shuddered at the sound. The next moment he came -in and saw me, and, starting, stood at gaze, his head thrust -slightly forward, his shoulders bent, his hand still on the -latch, amazement and frowning spite in turn distorting his lean -face. He had looked to find a weak, defenceless woman, whom he -could torture and rob at his will; he saw instead a strong man -armed, whose righteous anger he must have been blind indeed had -he failed to read. - -Strangest thing of all, we had met before! I knew him at once-- -he me. He was the same Jacobin monk whom I had seen at the inn -on the Claine, and who had told me the news of Guise's death! - -I uttered an exclamation of surprise on making this discovery, -and my mother, freed suddenly, as it seemed, from the spell of -fear, which had given her unnatural strength, sank back on the -bed. Her grasp relaxed, and her breath came and went with so -loud a rattle that I removed my gaze from him, and bent over her, -full of concern and solicitude. Our eyes met. She tried to -speak, and at last gasped, 'Not now, Gaston! Let him--let him--' - -Her lips framed the word 'go,' but she could not give it sound. -I understood, however, and in impotent wrath I waved my hand to -him to begone. When I looked up he had already obeyed me. He -had seized the first opportunity to escape. The door was closed, -the lamp burned steadily, and we were alone. - -I gave her a little Armagnac, which stood beside the bed for such -an occasion, and she revived, and presently opened her eyes. But -I saw at once a great change in her. The look of fear had passed -altogether from her face, and one of sorrow, yet content, had -taken its place. She laid her hand in mine, and looked up at me, -being too weak, as I thought, to speak. But by-and-by, when the -strong spirit had done its work, she signed to me to lower my -head to her mouth. - -'The King of Navarre,' she murmured-you are sure, Gaston--he will -retain you is your--employments?' - -Her pleading eyes were so close to mine, I felt no scruples such -as some might have felt, seeing her so near death; but I -answered firmly and cheerfully, 'Madame, I am assured of it. -There is no prince in Europe so trustworthy or so good to his -servants.' - -She sighed with infinite content, and blessed him in a feeble -whisper. 'And if you live,' she went on, 'you will rebuild the -old house, Gaston. The walls are sound yet. And the oak in the -hall was not burned. There is a chest of linen at Gil's, and a -chest with your father's gold lace--but that is pledged,' she -added dreamily. 'I forgot.' - -'Madame,' I answered solemnly, 'it shall be done--it shall be -done as you wish, if the power lie with me.' - -She lay for some time after that murmuring prayers, her head -supported on my shoulder. I longed impatiently for the nurse to -return, that I might despatch her for the leech; not that I -thought anything could be done, but for my own comfort and -greater satisfaction afterwards, and that my mother might not die -without some fitting attendance. The house remained quiet, -however, with that impressive quietness which sobers the heart at -such times, and I could not do this. And about six o'clock my -mother opened her eyes again. - -'This is not Marsac,' she murmured abruptly, her eyes roving from -the ceiling to the wall at the foot of the bed. - -No, Madame,' I answered, leaning over her, 'you are in Blois. -But I am here--Gaston, your son.' - -She looked at me, a faint smile of pleasure stealing over her -pinched face. 'Twelve thousand livres a year,' she whispered, -rather to herself than to me, 'and an establishment, reduced a -little, yet creditable, very creditable.' For a moment she -seemed to be dying in my arms, but again opened her eyes quickly -and looked me in the face. 'Gaston?' she said, suddenly and -strangely. 'Who said Gaston? He is with the King--I have -blessed him; and his days shall be long in the land!' Then, -raising herself in my arms with a last effort of strength, she -cried loudly, 'Way there! Way for my son, the Sieur de Marsac!' - -They were her last words. When I laid her down on the bed a -moment later, she was dead, and I was alone. - -Madame de Bonne, my mother, was seventy at the time of her death, -having survived my father eighteen years. She was Marie de Loche -de Loheac, third daughter of Raoul, Sieur de Loheac, on the -Vilaine, and by her great-grandmother, a daughter of Jean de -Laval, was descended from the ducal family of Rohan, a -relationship which in after-times, and under greatly altered -circumstances, Henry Duke of Rohan condescended to acknowledge, -honouring me with his friendship on more occasions than one. Her -death, which I have here recorded, took place on the fourth of -January, the Queen-Mother of France, Catherine de Medicis, dying -a little after noon on the following day. - -In Blois, as in every other town, even Paris itself, the -Huguenots possessed at this time a powerful organisation; and -with the aid of the surgeon, who showed me much respect in my -bereavement, and exercised in my behalf all the influence which -skilful and honest; men of his craft invariably possess, I was -able to arrange for my mother's burial in a private ground about -a league beyond the walls and near the village of Chaverny. At -the time of her death I had only thirty crowns in gold remaining, -Simon Fleix, to whose fate I could obtain no clue, having carried -off thirty-five with the horses. The whole of this residue, -however, with the exception of a handsome gratuity to the nurse -and a trifle spent on my clothes, I expended on the funeral, -desiring that no stain should rest on my mother's birth or my -affection. Accordingly, though the ceremony was of necessity -private, and indeed secret, and the mourners were few, it lacked -nothing, I think, of the decency and propriety which my mother -loved; and which she preferred, I have often heard her say, to -the vulgar show that is equally at the command of the noble and -the farmer of taxes. - -Until she was laid in her quiet resting-place I stood in constant -fear of some interruption on the part either of Bruhl, whose -connection with Fresnoy and the abduction I did not doubt, or of -the Jacobin monk. But none came; and nothing happening to -enlighten me as to the fate of Mademoiselle de la Vire, I saw my -duty clear before me. I disposed of the furniture of my mother's -room, and indeed of everything which was saleable, and raised in -this way enough money to buy myself a new cloak--without which I -could not travel in the wintry weather--and to hire a horse. -Sorry as the animal was, the dealer required security, and I had -none to offer. It was only at the last moment, I bethought me of -the fragment of gold chain which mademoiselle had left behind -her, and which, as well as my mother's rings and vinaigrette, I -had kept back from the sale. This I was forced to lodge with -him. Having thus, with some pain and more humiliation, provided -means for the journey, I lost not an hour in beginning it. On -the eighth of January I set oat for Rosny, to carry the news of -my ill-success and of mademoiselle's position whither I had -looked a week before to carry herself. - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -MAXIMILIAN DE BETHUNE, BARON DE ROSNY. - -I looked to make the journey to Rosny in two days. But the -heaviness of the roads and the sorry condition of my hackney -hindered me so greatly that I lay the second night at Dreux, and, -hearing the way was still worse between that place and my -destination, began to think that I should be fortunate if I -reached Rosny by the following noon. The country in this part -seemed devoted to the League, the feeling increasing in violence -as I approached the Seine. I heard nothing save abuse of the -King of France and praise of the Guise princes, and had much ado, -keeping a still tongue and riding modestly, to pass without -molestation or inquiry. - -Drawing near to Rosny, on the third morning, through a low marshy -country covered with woods and alive with game of all kinds, I -began to occupy myself with thoughts of the reception I was -likely to encounter; which, I conjectured, would be none of the -most pleasant. The daring and vigour of the Baron de Rosny, who -had at this time the reputation of being in all parts of France -at once, and the familiar terms on which he was known to live -with the King of Navarre, gave me small reason to hope that he -would listen with indulgence to such a tale as I had to tell. -The nearer I came to the hour of telling it, indeed, the more -improbable seemed some of its parts, and the more glaring my own -carelessness in losing the token, and in letting mademoiselle out -of my sight in such a place as Blois. I saw this so clearly now, -and more clearly as the morning advanced, that I do not know that -I ever anticipated anything with more fear than this explanation; -which it yet seemed my duty to offer with all reasonable speed. -The morning was warm, I remember; cloudy, yet not dark; the air -near at hand full of moisture and very clear, with a circle of -mist rising some way off, and filling the woods with blue -distances. The road was deep and foundrous, and as I was obliged -to leave it from time to time in order to pass the worst places, -I presently began to fear that I had strayed into a by-road. -After advancing some distance, in doubt whether I should -persevere or turn back, I was glad to see before me a small house -placed at the junction of several woodland paths. From the bush -which hung over the door, and a water-trough which stood beside -it, I judged the place to be an inn; and determining to get my -horse fed before I went farther, I rode up to the door and rapped -on it with my riding-switch. - -The position of the house was so remote that I was surprised to -see three or four heads thrust immediately out of a window. For -a moment I thought I should have done better to have passed by; -but the landlord coming out very civilly, and leading the way to -a shed beside the house, I reflected that I had little to lose, -and followed him. I found, as I expected, four horses tied up in -the shed, the bits hanging round their necks and their girths -loosed; while my surprise was not lessened by the arrival, before -I had fastened up my own horse, of a sixth rider, who, seeing us -by the shed, rode up to us, and saluted me as he dismounted. - -He was a tall, strong man in the prime of youth, wearing a plain, -almost mean suit of dust-coloured leather, and carrying no -weapons except a hunting-knife, which hung in a sheath at his -girdle. He rode a powerful silver-roan horse, and was splashed -to the top of his high untanned boots, as if he had come by the -worst of paths, if by any. - -He cast a shrewd glance at the landlord as he led his horse into -the shed; and I judged from his brown complexion and quick eyes -that he had seen much weather and lived an out-of-door life. - -He watched me somewhat curiously while I mixed the fodder for my -horse; and when I went into the house and sat down in the first -room I came to, to eat a little bread-and-cheese which I had in -my pouch, he joined me almost immediately. Apparently he could -not stomach my poor fare, however, for after watching me for a -time in silence, switching his boot with his whip the while, he -called the landlord, and asked him, in a masterful way, what -fresh meat he had, and particularly if he had any lean collops, -or a fowl. - -The fellow answered that there was nothing. His honour could -have some Lisieux cheese, he added, or some stewed lentils. - -'His honour does not want cheese,' the stranger answered -peevishly, 'nor lentil porridge. And what is this I smell, my -friend?' he continued, beginning suddenly to sniff with vigour. -'I swear I smell cooking.' - -'It is the hind-quarter of a buck, which is cooking for the four -gentlemen of the Robe; with a collop or two to follow,' the -landlord explained; and humbly excused himself on the ground that -the gentlemen had strictly engaged it for their own eating. - -'What? A whole quarter! AND a collop or two to follow!' the -stranger retorted, smacking his lips. 'Who are they?' - -'Two advocates and their clerks from the Parliament of Paris. -They have been viewing a boundary near here, and are returning -this afternoon,' the landlord answered. - -'No reason why they should cause a famine!' ejaculated the -stranger with energy. 'Go to them and say a gentleman, who has -ridden far, and fasted since seven this morning, requests -permission to sit at their table. A quarter of venison and a -collop or two among four!' he continued, in a tone of extreme -disgust, 'It is intolerable! And advocates! Why, at that rate, -the King of France should eat a whole buck, and rise hungry! -Don't you agree with me, sir?' he continued, turning on me and -putting the question abruptly. - -He was so comically and yet so seriously angry, and looked so -closely at me as he spoke, that I hastened to say I agreed with -him perfectly. - -'Yet you eat cheese, sir!' he retorted irritably. - -I saw that, not withstanding the simplicity of his dress, he was -a gentleman, and so, forbearing to take offence, I told him -plainly that my purse being light I travelled rather as I could -than as I would. - -'Is it so?' he answered hastily. 'Had I known that, I would -have joined you in the cheese! After all, I would rather fast -with a gentleman, than feast with a churl. But it is too late -now. Seeing you mix the fodder, I thought your pockets were -full.' - -'The nag is tired, and has done its best,' I answered. - -He looked at me curiously, and as though he would say more. -But the landlord returning at that moment, he turned to him -instead. - -'Well!' he said briskly. 'Is it all right?' - -'I am sorry, your honour,' the man answered, reluctantly, and -with a very downcast air, 'but the gentlemen beg to be excused.' - -'Zounds!' cried my companion roundly. 'They do, do they?' - -'They say they have no more, sir,' the landlord continued, -faltering, 'than enough for themselves and a little dog they have -with them.' - -A shout of laughter which issued at that moment from the other -room seemed to show that the quartette were making merry over my -companion's request. I saw his cheek redden, and looked for an -explosion of anger on his part; but instead he stood a moment in -thought in the middle of the floor, and then, much to the -innkeeper's relief, pushed a stool towards me, and called for a -bottle of the best wine. He pleasantly begged leave to eat a -little of my cheese, which he said looked better than the -Lisieux, and, filling my glass with wine, fell to as merrily as -if he had never heard of the party in the other room. - -I was more than a little surprised, I remember; for I had taken -him to be a passionate man, and not one to sit down under an -affront. Still I said nothing, and we conversed very well -together. I noticed, however, that he stopped speaking more than -once, as though to listen; but conceiving that he was merely -reverting to the party in the other room, who grew each moment -more uproarious, I said nothing, and was completely taken by -surprise when he rose on a sudden, and, going to the open window, -leaned out, shading his eyes with his hand. - -'What is it?' I said, preparing to follow him. - -He answered by a quiet chuckle. 'You shall see,' he added the -next instant. - -I rose, and going to the window looked out over his shoulder. -Three men were approaching the inn on horseback. The first, a -great burly, dark-complexioned man with fierce black eyes and a -feathered cap, had pistols in his holsters and a short sword by -his side. The other two, with the air of servants, were stout -fellows, wearing green doublets and leather breeches. All three -rode good horses, while a footman led two hounds after them in a -leash. On seeing us they cantered forward, the leader waving his -bonnet. - -'Halt, there!' cried my companion, lifting up his voice when -they were within a stone's throw of us. 'Maignan!' - -'My lord?' answered he of the feather, pulling up on the -instant. - -'You will find six horses in the shed there,' the stranger cried -in a voice of command. 'Turn out the four to the left as you go -in. Give each a cut, and send it about its business!' - -The man wheeled his horse before the words were well uttered, and -crying obsequiously 'that it was done,' flung his reins to one of -the other riders and disappeared in the shed, as if the order -given him were the most commonplace one in the world. - -The party in the other room, however, by whom all could be heard, -were not slow to take the alarm. They broke into a shout of -remonstrance, and one of their number, leaping from the window, -asked with a very fierce air what the devil we meant. The others -thrust out their faces, swollen and flushed with the wine they -had drunk, and with many oaths backed up his question. Not -feeling myself called upon to interfere, I prepared to see -something diverting. - -My companion, whose coolness surprised me, had all the air of -being as little concerned as myself. He even persisted for a -time in ignoring the angry lawyer, and, turning a deaf ear to all -the threats and abuse with which the others assailed him, -continued to look calmly at the prospect. Seeing this, and that -nothing could move him, the man who had jumped through the -window, and who seemed the most enterprising of the party, left -us at last and ran towards the stalls. The aspect of the two -serving-men, however, who rode up grinning, and made as if they -would ride him down, determined him to return; which he did, pale -with fury, as the last of the four horses clattered out, and -after a puzzled look round trotted off at its leisure into the -forest. - -On this, the man grew more violent, as I have remarked frightened -men do; so that at last the stranger condescended to notice him. - -'My good sir,' he said coolly, looking at him through the window -as if he had not seen him before, 'you annoy me. What is the -matter?' - -The fellow retorted with a vast amount of bluster, asking what -the devil we meant by turning out his horses. - -'Only to give you and the gentlemen with you a little exercise,' -my companion answered, with grim humour, and in a severe tone -strange in one so young--'than which nothing is more wholesome -after a full meal. That, and a lesson in good manners. -Maignan,' he continued, raising his voice, 'if this person has -anything more to say, answer him. He is nearer your degree than -mine.' - -And leaving the man to slink away like a whipped dog--for the -mean are ever the first to cringe--my friend turned from the -window. Meeting my eyes as he went back to his seat, he laughed. -'Well,' he said, 'what do you think?' - -'That the ass in the lion's skin is very well till it meets the -lion,' I answered. - -He laughed again, and seemed pleased, as I doubt not he was. -'Pooh, pooh!' he said. 'It passed the time, and I think I am -quits with my gentlemen now. But I must be riding. Possibly our -roads may lie for a while in the same direction, sir?' And he -looked at me irresolutely. - -I answered cautiously that I was going to the town of Rosny. - -'You are not from Paris?' he continued, still looking at me. - -'No,' I answered. 'I am from the south.' - -'From Blois, perhaps?' - -I nodded. - -'Ah!' he said, making no comment, which somewhat surprised me, -all men at this time desiring news, and looking to Blois for it. -'I am riding towards Rosny also. Let us be going.' - -But I noticed that as we got to horse, the man he called Maignan -holding his stirrup with much formality, he turned and looked at -me more than once with an expression in his eye which I could not -interpret; so that, being in an enemy's country, where curiosity -was a thing to be deprecated, I began to feel somewhat uneasy. -However, as he presently gave way to a fit of laughter, and -seemed to be digesting his late diversion at the inn, I thought -no more of it, finding him excellent company and a man of -surprising information. - -Notwithstanding this my spirits began to flag as I approached -Rosny; and as on such occasions nothing is more trying than the -well-meant rallying of a companion ignorant of our trouble, I -felt rather relief than regret when he drew rein at four cross- -roads a mile or so short of the town, and, announcing that here -our paths separated, took a civil leave of me, and went his way -with his servants. - -I dismounted at an inn at the extremity of the town, and, -stopping only to arrange my dress and drink a cup of wine, asked -the way to the Chateau, which was situate, I learned, no more -than a third of a mile away. I went thither on foot by way of an -avenue of trees leading up to a drawbridge and gateway. The -former was down, but the gates were closed, and all the -formalities of a fortress in time of war were observed on my -admission, though the garrison appeared to consist only of two or -three serving-men and as many foresters. I had leisure after -sending in my name to observe that the house was old and partly -ruinous, but of great strength, covered in places with ivy, and -closely surrounded by woods. A staid-looking page came presently -to me, and led me up a narrow staircase to a parlour lighted by -two windows, looking, one into the courtyard, the other towards -the town. There a tall man was waiting to receive me, who rose -on my entrance and came forward. Judge of my surprise when I -recognised my acquaintance of the afternoon! 'M. de Rosny?' I -exclaimed, standing still and looking at him in confusion. - -'The same, sir,' he answered, with a quiet smile. 'You come from -the King of Navarre, I believe? and on an errand to me. You may -speak openly. The king has no secrets from me.' - -There was something in the gravity of his demeanour as he waited -for me to speak: which strongly impressed me; notwithstanding -that he was ten years younger than myself, and I had seen him so -lately in a lighter mood. I felt that his reputation had not -belied him--that here was a great man; and reflecting with -despair on the inadequacy of the tale I had to tell him, I paused -to consider in what terms I should begin. He soon put an end to -this, however. 'Come, sir,' he said with impatience. 'I have -told you that you may speak out. You should have been here four -days ago, as I take it. Now you are here, where is the lady?' - -'Mademoiselle de la Vire?' I stammered, rather to gain time than -with any other object. - -'Tut, tut!' he rejoined, frowning. 'Is there any other lady in -the question? Come, sir, speak out. Where have you left her? -This is no affair of gallantry,' he continued, the harshness of -his demeanour disagreeably surprising me, 'that you need beat -about the bush. The king entrusted to you a lady, who, I have no -hesitation in telling you now, was in possession of certain State -secrets. It is known that she escaped safely from Chize and -arrived safely at Blois. Where is she?' - -'I would to Heaven I knew, sir!' I exclaimed in despair, feeling -the painfulness of my position increased a hundred fold by his -manner. 'I wish to God I did.' - -'What is this?' he cried in a raised voice. 'You do not know -where she is? You jest, M. de Marsac.' - -'It were a sorry jest,' I answered, summoning up a rueful smile. -And on that, plunging desperately into the story which I have -here set down, I narrated the difficulties under which I had -raised my escort, the manner in which I came to be robbed of the -gold token, how mademoiselle was trepanned, the lucky chance by -which I found her again, and the final disappointment. He -listened, but listened throughout with no word of sympathy-- -rather with impatience, which grew at last into derisive -incredulity. When I had done he asked me bluntly what I called -myself. - -Scarcely understanding what he meant, I repeated my name. - -He answered, rudely and flatly, that it was impossible. I do not -believe it, sir!' he repeated, his brow dark. 'You are not the -man. You bring neither the lady nor the token, nor anything else -by which I can test your story. Nay, sir, do not scowl at me,' -he continued sharply. 'I am the mouthpiece of the King of -Navarre, to whom this matter is of the highest importance. I -cannot believe that the man whom he would choose would act so. -This house you prate of in Blois, for instance, and the room with -the two doors? What were you doing while mademoiselle was being -removed?' - -'I was engaged with the men of the house,' I answered, striving -to swallow the anger which all but choked me. 'I did what I -could. Had the door given way, all would have been well.' - -He looked at me darkly. 'That is fine talking!' he said with a -sneer. Then he dropped his eyes and seemed for a time to fall -into a brown study, while I stood before him, confounded by this -new view of the case, furious, yet not knowing how to vent my -fury, cut to the heart by his insults, yet without hope or -prospect of redress. - -'Come' he said harshly, after two or three minutes of gloomy -reflection on his part and burning humiliation on mine, 'is there -anyone here who can identify you, or in any other way confirm -your story, sir? Until I know how the matter stands I can do -nothing.' - -I shook my head in sullen shame. I might protest against his -brutality and this judgment of me, but to what purpose while he -sheltered himself behind his master? - -'Stay!' he said presently, with an abrupt gesture of -remembrance. 'I had nearly forgotten. I have some here who have -been lately at the King of Navarre's Court at St. Jean d'Angely. -If you still maintain that you are the M. de Marsac to whom this -commission was entrusted, you will doubtless have no objection to -seeing them?' - -On this I felt myself placed in a most cruel dilemma. if I -refused to submit my case to the proposed ordeal, I stood an -impostor confessed. If I consented to see these strangers, it -was probable they would not recognise me, and possible that they -might deny me in terms calculated to make my position even worse, -if that might be. I hesitated but, Rosny standing inexorable -before me awaiting an answer, I finally consented. - -'Good!' he said curtly. 'This way, if you please. They are -here. The latch is tricky. Nay, sir, it is my house.' - -Obeying the stern motion of his hand, I passed before him into -the next room, feeling myself more humiliated than I can tell by -this reference to strangers. For a moment I could see no one. -The day was waning, the room I entered was long and narrow, and -illuminated only by a glowing fire. Besides I was myself, -perhaps, in some embarrassment. I believed that my conductor had -made a mistake, or that his guests had departed, and I turned -towards him to ask for an explanation. He merely pointed -onwards, however, and I advanced; whereupon a young and handsome -lady, who had been seated in the shadow of the great fireplace, -rose suddenly, as if startled, and stood looking at me, the glow -of the burning wood falling on one side of her face and turning -her hair to gold. - -'Well!' M. de Rosny said, in a voice which sounded a little odd -in my ears. 'You do not know madame, I think?' - -I saw that she was a complete stranger to me, and bowed to her -without speaking. The lady saluted me in turn ceremoniously and -in silence. - -'Is there no one else here who should know you?' M. de Rosny -continued, in a tone almost of persiflage, and with the same -change in his voice which had struck me before; but now it was -more marked. 'If not, M. de Marsac, I am afraid--But first look -round, look round, sir; I would not judge any man hastily.' - -He laid his hand on my shoulder as he finished in a manner so -familiar and so utterly at variance with his former bearing that -I doubted if I heard or felt aright. Yet I looked mechanically -at the lady, and seeing that her eyes glistened in the firelight, -and that she gazed at me very kindly, I wondered still more; -falling, indeed, into a very confusion of amazement. This was -not lessened but augmented a hundredfold when, turning in -obedience to the pressure of de Rosny's hand, I saw beside me, as -if she had risen from the floor, another lady--no other than -Mademoiselle de la Vire herself! She had that moment stepped out -of the shadow of the great fireplace, which had hitherto hidden -her, and stood before me curtseying prettily, with the same look -on her face and in her eyes which madame's wore. - -'Mademoiselle!' I muttered, unable to take my eyes from her. - -'Mais oui, monsieur, mademoiselle,' she answered, curtseying -lower, with the air of a child rather than a woman. - -'Here?' I stammered, my mouth open, my eyes staring. - -'Here, sir--thanks to the valour of a brave man,' she answered, -speaking in a voice so low I scarcely heard her. And then, -dropping her eyes, she stepped back into the shadow, as if either -she had said too much already, or doubted her composure were she -to say more. She was so radiantly dressed, she looked in the -firelight more like a fairy than a woman, being of small and -delicate proportions; and she seemed in my eyes so different a -person, particularly in respect of the softened expression of -her features, from the Mademoiselle de la Vire whom I had known -and seen plunged in sloughs and bent to the saddle with fatigue, -that I doubted still if I had seen aright, and was as far from -enlightenment as before. - -It was M. de Rosny himself who relieved me from the embarrassment -I was suffering. He embraced me in the most kind and obliging -manner, and this more than once; begging me to pardon the -deception he had practised upon me, and to which he had been -impelled partly by the odd nature of our introduction at the inn, -and partly by his desire to enhance the joyful surprise he had in -store for me. 'Come,' he said presently, drawing me to the -window, 'let me show you some more of your old friends.' - -I looked out, and saw below me in the courtyard my three horses -drawn up in a row, the Cid being bestridden by Simon Fleix, who, -seeing me, waved a triumphant greeting. A groom stood at the -head of each horse, and on either side was a man with a torch. -My companion laughed gleefully. 'It was Maignan's arrangement,' -he said. 'He has a quaint taste in such things.' - -After greeting Simon Fleix a hundred times, I turned back into -the room, and, my heart overflowing with gratitude and wonder, I -begged M. de Rosny to acquaint me with the details of -mademoiselle's escape. - -'It was the most simple thing in the world,' he said, taking me -by the hand and leading me back to the hearth. 'While you were -engaged with the rascals, the old woman who daily brought -mademoiselle's food grew alarmed at the uproar, and came into the -room to learn what it was. Mademoiselle, unable to help you, and -uncertain of your success, thought the opportunity too good to be -lost. She forced the old woman to show her and her maid the way -out through the garden. This done, they ran down a lane, as I -understand, and came immediately upon the lad with the horses, -who recognised them and helped them to mount. They waited some -minutes for you, and then rode off.' - -'But I inquired at the gate,' I said. - -'At which gate?' inquired M. de Rosny, smiling. - -'The North-gate, of course,' I answered. - -'Just so,' he rejoined with a nod. 'But they went out through -the West-gate and made a circuit. He is a strange lad, that of -yours below there. He has a head on his shoulder, M. de Marsac. -Well, two leagues outside the town they halted, scarcely knowing -how to proceed. By good fortune, however, a horse-dealer of my -acquaintance was at the inn. He knew Mademoiselle de la Vire, -and, hearing whither she was bound, brought her hither without -let or hindrance.' - -'Was he a Norman?' I asked, - -M. de Rosny nodded, smiling at me shrewdly. 'Yes,' he said, 'he -told me much about you. And now let me introduce you to my wife, -Madame de Rosny.' - -He led me up to the lady who had risen at my entrance, and who -now welcomed me as kindly as she had before looked on me, paying -me many pleasant compliments. I gazed at her with interest, -having heard much of her beauty and of the strange manner in -which M. de Rosny, being enamoured of two young ladies, and -chancing upon both while lodging in different apartments at an -inn, had decided which he should visit and make his wife. He -appeared to read what was in my mind, for as I bowed before her, -thanking her for the obliging things which she had uttered, and -which for ever bound me to her service, he gaily pinched her ear, -and said, 'When you want a good wife, M. de Marsac, be sure you -turn to the right.' - -He spoke in jest, and having his own case only in his mind. But -I, looking mechanically in the direction he indicated, saw -mademoiselle standing a pace or two to my right in the shadow of -the great chimney-piece. I know not whether she frowned more or -blushed more; but this for certain, that she answered my look -with one of sharp displeasure, and, turning her back on me, swept -quickly from the room, with no trace in her bearing of that late -tenderness and gratitude which I had remarked. - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -AT ROSNY. - -The morning brought only fresh proofs of the kindness which M. de -Rosny had conceived for me. Awaking early I found on a stool -beside my clothes, a purse of gold containing a hundred crowns; -and a youth presently entering to ask me if I lacked anything, I -had at first some difficulty in recognising Simon Fleix, so -sprucely was the lad dressed, in a mode resembling Maignan's. I -looked at the student more than once before I addressed him by -his name; and was as much surprised by the strange change I -observed in him for it was not confined to his clothes--as by -anything which had happened since I entered the house. I rubbed -my eyes, and asked him what he had done with his soutane. -'Burned it, M. de Marsac,' he answered briefly. - -I saw that he had burned much, metaphorically speaking, besides -his soutane. He was less pale, less lank, less wobegone than -formerly, and went more briskly. He had lost the air of crack- -brained disorder which had distinguished him, and was smart, -sedate, and stooped less. Only the odd sparkle remained in his -eyes, and bore witness to the same nervous, eager spirit within. - -'What are you going to do, then, Simon?' I asked, noting these -changes curiously. - -'I am a soldier,' he answered, 'and follow M. de Marsac.' - -I laughed. 'You have chosen a poor service, I am afraid,' I -said, beginning to rise; 'and one, too, Simon, in which it is -possible you may be killed. I thought that would not suit you,' -I continued, to see what he would say. But he answered nothing, -and I looked at him in great surprise. 'You have made up your -mind, then, at last?' I said. - -'Perfectly,' he answered. - -'And solved all your doubts?' - -'I have no doubts.' - -'You are a Huguenot?' - -'That is the only true and pure religion,' he replied gravely. -And with apparent sincerity and devotion he repeated Beza's -Confession of Faith. - -This filled me with profound astonishment, but I said no more at -the time, though I had my doubts. I waited until I was alone -with M. de Rosny, and then I unbosomed myself on the matter; -expressing my surprise at the suddenness of the conversion, and -at such a man, as I had found the student to be, stating his -views so firmly and steadfastly, and with so little excitement. -Observing that M. de Rosny smiled but answered nothing, I -explained myself farther. - -'I am surprised,' I said, 'because I have always heard it -maintained that clerkly men, becoming lost in the mazes of -theology, seldom find any sure footing; that not one in a hundred -returns to his old faith, or finds grace to accept a new one. I -am speaking only of such, of course, as I believe this lad to be ---eager, excitable brains, learning much, and without judgment to -digest what they learn.' - -'Of such I also believe it to be true,' M. de Rosny answered, -still smiling. 'But even on them a little influence, applied at -the right moment, has much effect, M. de Marsac.' - -'I allow that,' I said. 'But my mother, of whom I have spoken to -you, saw much of this youth. His fidelity to her was beyond -praise. Yet her faith, though grounded on a rock, had no weight -with him.' - -M. de Rosny shook his head, still smiling. - -'It is not our mothers who convert us,' he said. - -'What!' I cried, my eyes opened. 'Do you mean--do you mean that -Mademoiselle has done this?' - -'I fancy so,' he answered, nodding. 'I think my lady cast her -spell over him by the way. The lad left Blois with her, if what -you say be true, without faith in the world. He came to my hands -two days later the stoutest of Huguenots. It is not hard to read -this riddle.' - -'Such, conversions are seldom lasting,' I said. - -He looked at me queerly; and, the smile still hovering about his -lips, answered "Tush, man! Why so serious? Theodore Beza -himself could not look dryer. The lad is in earnest, and there -is no harm done.' - -And, Heaven knows, I was in no mood to suspect harm; nor inclined -just then to look at the dark side of things. It may be -conceived how delightful it was to me to be received as an equal -and honoured guest by a man, even then famous, and now so grown -in reputation as to overshadow all Frenchmen save his master; how -pleasant to enjoy the comforts and amiabilities of home, from -which I had been long estranged; to pour my mother's story into -Madame's ears and find comfort in her sympathy; to feel myself, -in fine, once more a gentleman with an acknowledged place in the -world. Our days we spent in hunting, or excursions of some kind, -our evenings in long conversations, which impressed me with an -ever-growing respect for my lord's powers. - -For there seemed to be no end either to his knowledge of France, -or to the plans for its development, which even then filled his -brain, and have since turned wildernesses into fruitful lands, -and squalid towns into great cities. Grave and formal, he could -yet unbend; the most sagacious of counsellors, he was a soldier -also, and loved the seclusion in which we lived the more that it -was not devoid of danger; the neighbouring towns being devoted to -the League, and the general disorder alone making it possible for -him to lie unsuspected in his own house. - -One thing only rendered my ease and comfort imperfect, and that -was the attitude which Mademoiselle de la Vire assumed towards -me. Of her gratitude in the first blush of the thing I felt no -doubt, for not only had she thanked me very prettily, though with -reserve, on the evening of my arrival, but the warmth of M. de -Rosny's kindness left me no choice, save to believe that she had -given him an exaggerated idea of my merits and services. I asked -no more than this. Such good offices left me nothing to expect -or desire; my age and ill-fortune placing me at so great a -disadvantage that, far from dreaming of friendship or intimacy -with her, I did not even assume the equality in our daily -intercourse to which my birth, taken by itself, entitled me. -Knowing that I must appear in her eyes old, poor, and ill- -dressed, and satisfied, with having asserted my conduct and -honour, I was careful not to trespass on her gratitude; and while -forward in such courtesies as could not weary her, I avoided with -equal care every appearance of pursuing her, or inflicting my -company upon her. I addressed her formally and upon formal -topics only, such, I mean, as we shared with the rest of our -company; and I reminded myself often that though we now met in -the same house and at the same table, she was still the -Mademoiselle de la Vire who had borne herself so loftily in the -King of Navarre's ante-chamber. This I did, not out of pique or -wounded pride, which I no more, God knows, harboured against her -than against a bird; but that I might not in my new prosperity -forget the light in which such a woman, young, spoiled, and -beautiful, must still regard me. - -Keeping to this inoffensive posture, I was the more hurt when I -found her gratitude fade with the hour. After the first two -days, during which I remarked that she was very silent, seldom -speaking to me or looking at me, she resumed much of her old air -of disdain. For that I cared little; but she presently went -farther, and began to rake up the incidents which had happened at -St. Jean d'Angely, and in which I had taken part. She -continually adverted to my poverty while there, to the odd figure -I had cut, and the many jests her friends had made at my expense. -She seemed to take a pleasure positively savage in these, gibing -at me sometimes so bitterly as to shame and pain me, and bring -the colour to Madame de Rosny's cheeks. - -To the time we had spent together, on the other hand, she never -or rarely referred. One afternoon, however, a week after my -arrival at Rosny, I found her sitting alone in the parlour. I -had not known she was there, and I was for withdrawing at once -with a bow and a muttered apology. But she stopped me with an -angry gesture. 'I do not bite,' she said, rising from her stool -and meeting my eyes, a red spot in each cheek. 'Why do you look -at me like that? Do you know, M. de Marsac, that I have no -patience with you.' And she stamped her foot on the floor. - -'But, mademoiselle,' I stammered humbly, wondering what in the -world she meant, 'what have I done?' - -'Done?' she repeated angrily. 'Done? It is not what you have -done, it is what you are. I have no patience with you. Why are -you so dull, sir? Why are you so dowdy? Why do you go about -with your doublet awry, and your hair lank? Why do you speak to -Maignan as if he were a gentleman? Why do you look always solemn -and polite, and as if all the world were a preche? Why? Why? -Why, I say?' - -She stopped from sheer lack of breath, leaving me as much -astonished as ever in my life. She looked so beautiful in her -fury and fierceness too, that I could only stare at her and -wonder dumbly what it all meant. - -'Well!' she cried impatiently, after bearing this as long as she -could, 'have you not a word to say for yourself? Have you no -tongue? Have you no will of your own at all, M. de Marsac?' - -'But, mademoiselle,' I began, trying to explain. - -'Chut!' she exclaimed, cutting me short before I could get -farther, as the way of women is. And then she added, in a -changed tone, and very abruptly, 'You have a velvet knot of mine, -sir. Give it me.' - -'It is in my room,' I answered, astonished beyond measure at this -sudden change of subject, and equally sudden demand. - -'Then fetch it, sir, if you please,' she replied, her eyes -flashing afresh. 'Fetch it. Fetch it, I say! It has served its -turn, and I prefer to have it. Who knows but that some day you -may be showing it for a love-knot?' - -'Mademoiselle!' I cried, hotly. And I think that for the moment -I was as angry as she was. - -'Still, I prefer to have it,' she answered sullenly, casting down -her eyes. - -I was so much enraged, I went without a word and fetched it, and, -bringing it to her where she stood, in the same place, put it -into her hands. When she saw it some recollection, I fancy, of -the day when she had traced the cry for help on it, came to her -in her anger; for she took it from me with all her bearing -altered. She trembled, and held it for a moment in her hands, as -if she did not know what to do with it. She was thinking, -doubtless, of the house in Blois and the peril she had run there; -and, being for my part quite willing that she should think and -feel how badly she had acted, I stood looking at her, sparing her -no whit of my glance. - -'The gold chain you left on my mother's pillow,' I said coldly, -seeing she continued silent, 'I cannot return to you at once, for -I have pledged it. But I will do so as soon as I can.' - -'You have pledged it?' she muttered, with her eyes averted. - -'Yes, mademoiselle, to procure a horse to bring me here,' I -replied drily. 'However, it, shall be redeemed. In return, -there is something I too would ask.' - -'What?' she murmured, recovering herself with all effort, and -looking at me with something of her old pride and defiance. - -'The broken coin you have,' I said. 'The token, I mean. It is -of no use to you, for your enemies hold the other half. It might -be of service to me.' - -'How?' she asked curtly. - -'Because some day I may find its fellow, mademoiselle,' - -'And then?" she cried. She looked at me, her lips parted, her -eyes flashing. 'What then, when you have found its fellow, M. de -Marsac?' - -I shrugged my shoulders. - -'Bah!' she exclaimed, clenching her little hand, and stamping -her foot on the floor in a passion I could not understand. 'That -is you! That is M. de Marsac all over. You say nothing, and men -think nothing of you. You go with your hat in your hand, and -they tread on you. They speak, and you are silent! Why, if I -could use a sword as you can, I would keep silence before no man, -nor let any man save the King of France cock his hat in my -presence! But you! There! go, leave me. Here is your coin. -Take it and go. Send me that lad of yours to keep me awake. At -any rate he has brains, he is young, he is a man, he has a soul, -he can feel--if he were anything but a clerk.' - -She waved me off in such a wind of passion as might have amused -me in another, but in her smacked so strongly of ingratitude as -to pain me not a little. I went, however, and sent Simon to her; -though I liked the errand very ill, and no better when I saw the -lad's face light up at the mention of her name. But apparently -she had not recovered her temper when he reached her, for he -fared no better than I had done; coming away presently with the -air of a whipped dog, as I saw from the yew-tree walk where I was -strolling. - -Still, after that she made it a habit to talk to him more and -more; and, Monsieur and Madame de Rosny being much taken up with -one another, there was no one to check her fancy or speak a word -of advice. Knowing her pride, I had no fears for her; but it -grieved me to think that the lad's head should be turned. A -dozen times I made up my mind to speak to her on his behalf; but -for one thing it was not my business, and for another I soon -discovered that she was aware of my displeasure, and valued it -not a jot. For venturing one morning, when she was in a pleasant -humour, to hint that she treated those beneath her too inhumanly, -and with an unkindness as little becoming noble blood as -familiarity, she asked me scornfully if I did not think she -treated Simon Fleix well enough. To which I had nothing to -answer. - -I might here remark on the system of secret intelligence by means -of which M. de Rosny, even in this remote place, received news of -all that was passing in France. But it is common fame. There -was no coming or going of messengers, which would quickly have -aroused suspicion in the neighbouring town, nor was it possible -even for me to say exactly by what channels news came. But come -it did, and at all hours of the day. In this way we heard of the -danger of La Ganache and of the effort contemplated by the King -of Navarre for its relief. M. de Rosny not only communicated -these matters to me without reserve, but engaged my affections by -farther proofs of confidence such as might well have flattered a -man of greater importance. - -I have said that, as a rule, there was no coming or going of -messengers. But one evening, returning from the chase with one -of the keepers, who had prayed my assistance in hunting down a -crippled doe, I was surprised to find a strange horse, which had -evidently been ridden hard and far, standing smoking in the yard. -Inquiring whose it was, I learned that a man believed by the -grooms to be from Blois had just arrived and was closeted with -the baron. An event so far out of the ordinary course of things -naturally aroused my wonder; but desiring to avoid any appearance -of curiosity, which, if indulged, is apt to become the most -vulgar of vices, I refrained from entering the house, and -repaired instead to the yew-walk. I had scarcely, however, -heated my blood, a little chilled with riding, before the page -came to me to fetch me to his master. - -I found M. de Rosny striding up and down his room, his manner so -disordered and his face disfigured by so much grief and horror -that I started on seeing him. My heart sinking in a moment, I -did not need to look at Madame, who sat weeping silently in a -chair, to assure myself that something dreadful had happened. -The light was failing, and a lamp had been brought into the room. -M. de Rosny pointed abruptly to a small piece of paper which lay -on the table beside it, and, obeying his gesture, I took this up -and read its contents, which consisted of less than a score of -words. - -'He is ill and like to die,' the message ran, 'twenty leagues -south of La Ganache. Come at all costs. P. M. - -'Who?' I said stupidly--stupidly, for already I began to -understand. Who is ill and like to die?' - -M. de Rosny turned to me, and I saw that the tears were trickling -unbidden down his cheeks. 'There is but one HE for me,' he -cried. 'May God spare that one! May He spare him to France, -which needs him, to the Church, which hangs on him, and to me, -who love him! Let him not fall in the hour of fruition. O Lord, -let him not fall!' And he sank on to a stool, and remained in -that posture with his face in his hands, his broad shoulders -shaken with grief. - -'Come, sir,' I said, after a pause sacred to sorrow and dismay; -'let me remind you that while there is life there is hope.' - -'Hope?' - -'Yes, M. de Rosny, hope,' I replied more cheerfully. 'He has -work to do. He is elected, called, and chosen; the Joshua of his -people, as M. d'Amours rightly called him. God will not take him -yet. You shall see him and be embraced by him, as has happened a -hundred times. Remember, sir, the King of Navarre is strong, -hardy, and young, and no doubt in good hands.' - -'Mornay's,' M. de Rosny cried, looking up with contempt in his -eye. - -Yet from that moment he rallied, spurred, I think, by the thought -that the King of Navarre's recovery depended under God on M. de -Mornay; whom he was ever inclined to regard as his rival. He -began to make instant preparations for departure from Rosny, and -bade me do so also, telling me, somewhat curtly and without -explanation, that he had need of me. The danger of so speedy a -return to the South, where the full weight of the Vicomte de -Turenne's vengeance awaited me, occurred to me strongly; and I -ventured, though with a little shame, to mention it. But M. de -Rosny, after gazing at me a moment in apparent doubt, put the -objection aside with a degree of peevishness unusual in him, and -continued to press on his arrangements as earnestly as though -they did not include separation from a wife equally loving and -beloved. - -Having few things to look to myself, I was at leisure, when the -hour of departure came, to observe both the courage with which -Madame de Rosny supported her sorrow, 'for the sake of France,' -and the unwonted tenderness which Mademoiselle de la Vire, lifted -for once above herself, lavished on her. I seemed to stand-- -happily in one light, and yet the feeling was fraught with pain-- -outside their familiar relations; yet, having made my adieux as -short and formal as possible, that I might not encroach on other -and more sacred ones, I found at the last moment something in -waiting for me. I was surprised as I rode under the gateway a -little ahead of the others, by something small and light falling -on the saddle-bow before me. Catching it before it could slide -to the ground, I saw, with infinite astonishment, that I held in -my hand a tiny velvet bow. - -To look up at the window of the parlour, which I have said was -over the archway, was my first impulse. I did so, and met -mademoiselle's eyes for a second, and a second only. The next -moment she was gone. M. de Rosny clattered through the gate at -my heels, the servants behind him. And we were on the road. - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -M. DE RAMBOUILLET. - -For a while we were but a melancholy party. The incident I have -last related which seemed to admit of more explanations than one ---left me in a state of the greatest perplexity; and this -prevailed with me for a time, and was only dissipated at length -by my seeing my own face, as it were, in a glass. For, chancing -presently to look behind me, I observed that Simon Fleix was -riding, notwithstanding his fine hat and feather and his new -sword, in a posture and with an air of dejection difficult to -exaggerate; whereon the reflection that master and man had the -same object in their minds--nay, the thought that possibly he -bore in his bosom a like token to that which lay warm in mine-- -occurring to me, I roused myself as from some degrading dream, -and, shaking up the Cid, cantered forward to join Rosny, who, in -no cheerful mood himself, was riding steadily forward, wrapped to -his eyes in his cloak. - -The news of the King of Navarre's illness had fallen on him, -indeed, in the midst of his sanguine scheming with the force of a -thunderbolt. He saw himself in danger of losing at once the -master he loved and the brilliant future to which he looked -forward; and amid the imminent crash of his hopes and the -destruction of the system in which he lived, he had scarcely time -to regret the wife he was leaving at Rosny or the quiet from -which he was so suddenly called. His heart was in the South, at -La Ganache, by Henry's couch. His main idea was to get there -quickly at all risks. The name of the King of Navarre's -physician was constantly on his lips. 'Dortoman is a good man. -If anyone call save him, Dortoman will,' was his perpetual cry. -And whenever he met anyone who had the least appearance of -bearing news, he would have me stop and interrogate him, and by -no means let the traveller go until he had given us the last -rumour from Blois--the channel through which all the news from -the South reached us. - -An incident which occurred at the inn that evening cheered him -somewhat; the most powerful minds being prone, I have observed, -to snatch at omens in times of uncertainty. An elderly man, of -strange appearance, and dressed in an affected and bizarre -fashion, was seated at table when we arrived. Though I entered -first in my assumed capacity of leader of the party, he let me -pass before him without comment, but rose and solemnly saluted M. -de Rosny, albeit the latter walked behind me and was much more -plainly dressed. Rosny returned his greeting and would have -passed on; but the stranger, interposing with a still lower bow, -invited him to take his seat, which was near the fire and -sheltered from the draught, at the same time making as if he -would himself remove to another place. - -'Nay,' said my companion, surprised by such an excess of -courtesy, 'I do not see why I should take your place, sir.' - -'Not mine only,' the old man rejoined, looking at him with a -particularity and speaking with an emphasis which attracted our -attention, 'but those of many others, who I can assure you will -very shortly yield them up to you, whether they will or not.' - -M. de Rosny shrugged his shoulders and passed on, affecting to -suppose the old man wandered. But privately he thought much of -his words, and more when he learned that he was an astrologer -from Paris, who had the name, at any rate in this country, of -having studied under Nostradamus. And whether he drew fresh -hopes from this, or turned his attention more particularly as we -approached Blois to present matters, certainly he grew more -cheerful, and began again to discuss the future, as though -assured of his master's recovery. - -'You have never been to the King's Court?' he said presently, -following up, as I judged, a train of thought in his own mind. -'At Blois, I mean.' - -'No; nor do I feel anxious to visit it,' I answered. 'To tell -you the truth, M. le Baron,' I continued with some warmth, 'the -sooner me are beyond Blois, the better I shall be pleased. I -think we run some risk there, and, besides, I do not fancy a -shambles. I do not think I could see the king without thinking -of the Bartholomew, nor his chamber without thinking of Guise.' - -'Tut, tut!' he said, 'you have killed a man before now.' - -'Many,' I answered. - -'Do they trouble you?' - -'No, but they were killed in fair fight,' I replied, 'That makes -a difference.' - -'To you,' he said drily. 'But you are not the King of France, -you see. Should you ever come across him,' he continued, -flicking his horse's ears, a faint smile on his lips, 'I will -give you a hint. Talk to him of the battles at Jarnac and -Moncontour, and praise your Conde's father! As Conde lost the -fight and, he won it, the compliment comes home to him. The more -hopelessly a man has lost his powers, my friend, the more fondly -he regards them, and the more highly he prizes the victories he -call no longer gain.' - -'Ugh!' I muttered. - -'Of the two parties at Court,' Rosny continued, calmly -overlooking my ill-humour, 'trust D'Aumont and Biron and the -French clique. They are true to France at any rate. But -whomsoever you see consort with the two Retzs--the King of -Spain's jackals as men name them--avoid him for a Spaniard and a -traitor.' - -'But the Retzs are Italians,' I objected peevishly. - -'The same thing,' he answered curtly. 'They cry, "Vive le Roi!" -but privately they are for the League, or for Spain, or for -whatever may most hurt us; who are better Frenchmen than -themselves, and whose leader will some day, if God spare his -life, be King of France.' - -'Well, the less I have to do with the one or the other of them, -save at the sword's point, the better I shall be pleased,' I -rejoined. - -On that he looked at me with a queer smile; as was his way when -he had more in his mind than appeared. And this, and something -special in the tone of his conversation, as well, perhaps, as my -own doubts about my future and his intentions regarding me, gave -me an uneasy feeling; which lasted through the day, and left me -only when more immediate peril presently rose to threaten us. - -It happened in this way. We had reached the outskirts of Blois, -and were just approaching the gate, hoping to pass through it -without attracting attention, when two travellers rode slowly out -of a lane, the mouth of which we were passing. They eyed us -closely as they reined in to let us go by; and M. de Rosny, who -was riding with his horse's head at my stirrup, whispered me to -press on. Before I could comply, however, the strangers cantered -by us, and turning in the saddle when abreast of us looked us in -the face. A moment later one of them cried loudly, 'It is he!' -and both pulled their horses across the road, and waited for us -to come up. - -Aware that if M. de Rosny were discovered he would be happy if he -escaped with imprisonment, the king being too jealous of his -Catholic reputation to venture to protect a Huguenot, however -illustrious, I saw that the situation was desperate; for, though -we were five to two, the neighbourhood of the city--the gate -being scarcely a bow-shot off--rendered flight or resistance -equally hopeless. I could think of nothing for it save to put a -bold face on the matter, and, M. de Rosny doing the same, we -advanced in the most innocent way possible. - -'Halt, there!' cried one of the strangers sharply. 'And let me -tell you, sir, you are known.' - -'What if I am?' I answered impatiently, still pressing on. 'Are -you highwaymen, that you stop the way?' - -The speaker on the other side looked at me keenly, but in a -moment retorted, 'Enough trifling, sir! Who YOU are I do not -know. But the person riding at your rein is M. de Rosny. Him I -do know, and I warn him to stop.' - -I thought the game was lost, but to my surprise my companion -answered at once and almost in the same words I had used. 'Well, -sir, and what of that?' he said. - -'What of that?' the stranger exclaimed, spurring his horse so as -still to bar the way. 'Why, only this, that you must be a madman -to show yourself on this side of the Loire.' - -'It is long since I have seen the other,' was my companion's -unmoved answer. - -'You are M. de Rosny? You do not deny it?' the man cried in -astonishment. - -'Certainly I do not deny it,' M. de Rosny answered bluntly. 'And -more, the day has been, sir,' he continued with sudden fire, -'when few at his Majesty's Court would have dared to chop words -with Solomon de Bethune, much less to stop him on the highway -within a mile of the palace. But times are changed with me, sir, -and it would seem with others also, if true men rallying to his -Majesty in his need are to be challenged by every passer on the -road.' - -'What! Are you Solomon de Bethune?' the man cried -incredulously. Incredulously, but his countenance fell, and his -voice was full of chagrin and disappointment, - -'Who else, sir?' M. de Rosny replied haughtily. 'I am, and, as -far as I know, I have as much right on this side of the Loire as -any other man.' - -'A thousand pardons.' - -'If you are not satisfied--' - -'Nay, M. de Rosny, I am perfectly satisfied.' - -The stranger repented this with a very crestfallen air, adding, -'A thousand pardons'; and fell to making other apologies, doffing -his hat with great respect. 'I took you, if you will pardon me -saying so, for your Huguenot brother, M. Maximilian,' he -explained. 'The saying goes that he is at Rosny.' - -'I can answer for that being false,' M. de Rosny answered -peremptorily, 'for I have just come from there, and I will answer -for it he is not within ten leagues of the place. And now, sir, -as we desire to enter before the gates shut, perhaps you will -excuse us.' With which he bowed, and I bowed, and they bowed, -and we separated. They gave us the road, which M. de Rosny took -with a great air, and we trotted to the gate, and passed through -it without misadventure. - -The first street we entered was a wide one, and my companion took -advantage of this to ride up abreast of me. 'That is the kind of -adventure our little prince is fond of,' he muttered. 'But for -my part, M. de Marsac, the sweat is running down my forehead. I -have played the trick more than once before, for my brother and I -are as like as two peas. And yet it would have gone ill with us -if the fool had been one of his friends.' - -'All's well that ends well,' I answered in a low voice, thinking -it an ill time for compliments. As it was, the remark was -unfortunate, for M. de Rosny was still in the act of reining back -when Maignan called out to us to say we were being followed. - -I looked behind, but could see nothing except gloom and rain and -overhanging eaves and a few figures cowering in doorways. The -servants, however, continued to maintain that it was so, and we -held, without actually stopping, a council of war. If detected, -we were caught in a trap, without hope of escape; and for the -moment I am sure M. do Rosny regretted that he had chosen this -route by Blois--that he had thrust himself, in his haste and his -desire to take with him the latest news, into a snare so patent. -The castle--huge, dark, and grim--loomed before us at the end of -the street in which we were, and, chilled as I was myself by the -sight, I could imagine how much more appalling it must appear to -him, the chosen counsellor of his master, and the steadfast -opponent of all which it represented. - -Our consultation came to nothing, for no better course suggested -itself than to go as we had intended to the lodging commonly used -by my companion. We did so, looking behind us often, and saying -more than once that Maignan must be mistaken. As soon as we had -dismounted, however, and gone in, he showed us from the window a -man loitering near; and this confirmation of our alarm sending us -to our expedients again, while Maignan remained watching in a -room without a light, I suggested that I might pass myself off, -though ten years older, for my companion. - -'Alas!' he said, drumming with his fingers on the table 'there -are too many here who know me to make that possible. I thank you -all the same.' - -'Could you escape on foot? Or pass the wall anywhere, or slip -through the gates early?' I suggested. - -'They might tell us at the Bleeding Heart,' he answered. But I -doubt it. I was a fool, sir, to put my neck into Mendoza's -halter, and that is a fact. But here is Maignan. What is it, -man?' he continued eagerly. - -'The watcher is gone, my lord,' the equerry answered. - -'And has left no one?' - -'No one that I can see.' - -We both went into the next room and looked from the windows. The -man was certainly not where we had seen him before. But the rain -was falling heavily, the eaves were dripping, the street was a -dark cavern with only here and there a spark of light, and the -fellow might be lurking elsewhere. Maignan, being questioned, -however, believed he had gone off of set purpose. - -'Which may be read half a dozen ways,' I remarked. - -'At any rate, we are fasting,' M. de Rosny answered. Give me a -full man in a fight. Let us sit down and eat. It is no good -jumping in the dark, or meeting troubles half way.' - -We were not through our meal, however, Simon Fleix waiting on us -with a pale face, when Maignan came in again from the dark room. -'My lord,' he said quietly, 'three men have appeared. Two of -them remain twenty paces away. The third has come to the door.' -As he spoke we heard a cautious summons below, Maignan was for -going down, but his master bade him stand. Let the woman of the -house go,' he said. - -I remarked and long remembered M. de Rosny's SANG-FROID on this -occasion. His pistols he had already laid on a chair beside him -throwing his cloak over them; and now, while we waited, listening -in breathless silence, I saw him hand a large slice of bread-and- -meat to his equerry, who, standing behind his chair, began eating -it with the same coolness. Simon Fleix, on the other hand, stood -gazing at the door, trembling in every limb, and with so much of -excitement and surprise in his attitude that I took the -precaution of bidding him, in a low voice, do nothing without -orders. At the same moment it occurred to me to extinguish two -of the four candles which had been lighted; and I did so, M. de -Rosny nodding assent, just as the muttered conversation which was -being carried on below ceased, and a man's tread sounded on the -stairs. - -It was followed immediately by a knock on the outside of our -door. Obeying my companion's look, I cried, 'Enter!' - -A slender man of middle height, booted and wrapped up, with his -face almost entirely hidden by a fold of his cloak, came in -quickly, and closing the door behind him, advanced towards the -table. 'Which is M. de Rosny?' he said. - -Rosny had carefully turned his face from the light, but at the -sound of the other's voice he sprang up with a cry of relief. He -was about to speak, when the newcomer, raising his hand -peremptorily, continued, 'No names, I beg. Yours, I suppose, is -known here. Mine is not, nor do I desire it should be. I want -speech of you, that is all.' - -'I am greatly honoured,' M. de Rosny replied, gazing at him -eagerly. 'Yet, who told you I was here?' - -'I saw you pass under a lamp in the street,' the stranger -answered. 'I knew your horse first, and you afterwards, and bade -a groom follow you. Believe me,' he added, with a gesture of the -hand, 'you have nothing to fear from me.' - -'I accept the assurance in the spirit in which it is offered,' my -companion answered with a graceful bow, 'and think myself -fortunate in being recognised'--he paused a moment and then -continued--'by a Frenchman and a man of honour.' - -The stranger shrugged his shoulders. 'Your pardon, then,' he -said, 'if I seem abrupt. My time is short. I want to do the -best with it I can. Will you favour me?' - -I was for withdrawing, but M. de Rosny ordered Maignan to place -lights in the next room, and, apologising to me very graciously, -retired thither with the stranger, leaving me relieved indeed by -these peaceful appearances, but full of wonder and conjectures -who this might be, and what the visit portended. At one moment I -was inclined to identify the stranger with M. de Rosny's brother; -at another with the English ambassador; and then, again, a wild -idea that he might be M. de Bruhl occurred to me. The two -remained together about a quarter of an hour and then came out, -the stranger leading the way, and saluting me politely as he -passed through the room. At the door he turned to say, 'At nine -o'clock, then?' - -'At nine o'clock,' M. de Rosny replied, holding the door open. -'You will excuse me if I do not descend, Marquis?' - -'Yes, go back, my friend,' the stranger answered. And, lighted -by Maignan, whose face on such occasions could assume the most -stolid air in the world, he disappeared down the stairs, and I -heard him go out. - -M. de Rosny turned to me, his eyes sparkling with joy, his face -and mien full of animation. 'The King of Navarre is better,' he -said. 'He is said to be out of danger. What do you think of -that, my friend?' - -'That is the best news I have heard for many a day,' I answered. -And I hastened to add, that France and the Religion had reason to -thank God for His mercy. - -'Amen to that,' my patron replied reverently. 'But that is not -all--that is not all.' And he began to walk up and down the room -humming the 118th Psalm a little above his breath-- - - La voici l'heureuse journee - Que Dieu a faite a plein desir; - Par nous soit joie demenee, - Et prenons en elle plaisir. - -He continued, indeed, to walk up and down the floor so long, and -with so joyful a countenance and demeanour, that I ventured, at -last to remind him of my presence, which he had clearly -forgotten. 'Ha! to be sure,' he said, stopping short and -looking at me with the utmost good-humour. 'What time is it? -Seven. Then until nine o'clock, my friend, I crave your -indulgence. In fine, until that time I must keep counsel. Come, -I am hungry still. Let us sit down, and this time I hope we may -not be interrupted. Simon, set us on a fresh bottle. Ha! ha! -VIVENT LE ROI ET LE ROI DE NAVARRE!' And again he fell to -humming the same psalm-- - - O Dieu eternel, je te prie, - Je te prie, ton roi maintiens: - O Dieu, je te prie et reprie, - Sauve ton roi et l'entretiens! - -doing so with a light in his eyes and a joyous emphasis, which -impressed me the more in a man ordinarily so calm and self- -contained. I saw that something had occurred to gratify him -beyond measure, and, believing his statement that this was not -the good news from La Ganache only, I waited with the utmost -interest and anxiety for the hour of nine, which had no sooner -struck than our former visitor appeared with the same air of -mystery and disguise which had attended him before. - -M. de Rosny, who had risen on hearing his step and had taken up -his cloak, paused with it half on and half off, to cry anxiously, -'All is well, is it not?' - -'Perfectly,' the stranger replied, with a nod. - -'And my friend?' - -Yes, on condition that you answer for his discretion and -fidelity.' And the stranger glanced involuntarily at me who -stood uncertain whether to hold my ground or retire. - -'Good,' M. de Rosny cried. Then he turned to me with a mingled -air of dignity and kindness, and continued: 'This is the -gentleman. M. de Marsac, I am honoured with permission to -present you to the Marquis de Rambouillet, whose interest and -protection I beg you to deserve, for he is a true Frenchman and a -patriot whom I respect.' - -M. de Rambouillet saluted me politely. 'Of a Brittany family, I -think?' he said. - -I assented; and he replied with something complimentary. But -afterwards he continued to look at me in silence with a keenness -and curiosity I did not understand. At last, when M. de Rosny's -impatience had reached a high pitch, the marquis seemed impelled -to add something. 'You quite understand M. de Rosny?' he said. -'Without saying anything disparaging of M. de Marsac, who is, no -doubt, a man of honour'--and he bowed to me very low--'this is a -delicate matter, and you will introduce no one into it, I am -sure, whom you cannot trust as yourself.' - -'Precisely,' M. de Rosny replied, speaking drily, yet with a -grand air which fully matched his companion's. 'I am prepared to -trust this gentleman not only with my life but with my honour.' - -'Nothing more remains to be said then,' the marquis rejoined, -bowing to me again. 'I am glad to have been the occasion of a -declaration so flattering to you, sir.' - -I returned his salute in silence, and obeying M. de Rosny's -muttered direction put on, my cloak and sword. M. de Rosny took -up his pistols. - -'You will have no need of those,' the Marquis said with a high -glance. - -'Where we are going, no,' my companion answered, calmly -continuing to dispose them about him. 'But the streets are dark -and not too safe.' - -M. de Rambouillet laughed. 'That is the worst of you Huguenots,' -he said. 'You never know when to lay suspicion aside.' - -A hundred retorts sprang to my lips. I thought of the -Bartholomew, of the French fury of Antwerp, of half a dozen -things which make my blood boil to this day. But M. de Rosny's -answer was the finest of all. 'That is true, I am afraid,' he -said quietly. 'On the other hand, you Catholics--take the late -M. de Guise for instance--have the habit of erring on the other -side, I think, and sometimes trust too far.' - -The marquis, without making any answer to this home-thrust, led -the way out, and we followed, being joined at the door of the -house by a couple of armed lackeys, who fell in behind us. We -went on foot. The night was dark, and the prospect out of doors -was not cheering. The streets were wet and dirty, and -notwithstanding all our care we fell continually into pitfalls or -over unseen obstacles. Crossing the PARVIS of the cathedral, -which I remembered, we plunged in silence into an obscure street -near the river, and so narrow that the decrepit houses shut out -almost all view of the sky. The gloom of our surroundings, no -less than my ignorance of the errand on which we were bound, -filled me with anxiety and foreboding. My companions keeping -strict silence, however, and taking every precaution to avoid -being recognised, I had no choice but to do likewise. - -I could think, and no more. I felt myself borne along by an -irresistible current, whither and for what purpose I could not -tell; an experience to an extent strange at my age the influence -of the night and the weather. Twice we stood aside to let a -party of roisterers go by, and the excessive care M. de -Rambouillet evinced on these occasions to avoid recognition did -not tend to reassure me or make me think more lightly of the -unknown business on which I was bound. - -Reaching at last an open space, our leader bade us in a low voice -be careful and follow him closely. We did so and crossed in this -way and in single file a narrow plank or wooden bridge; but -whether water ran below or a dry ditch only, I could not -determine. My mind was taken up at the moment with the discovery -which I had just made, that the dark building, looming huge and -black before us with a single light twinkling here and there at -great heights, was the Castle of Blois. - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -VILAIN HERODES. - -All the distaste and misliking I had expressed earlier in the day -for the Court of Blois recurred with fresh force in the darkness -and gloom; and though, booted and travel-stained as we were, I -did not conceive it likely that we should be obtruded on the -circle about the king, I felt none the less an oppressive desire -to be through with our adventure, and away from the ill-omened -precincts in which I found myself. The darkness prevented me -seeing the faces of my companions; but on M. de Rosny, who was -not quite free himself, I think, from the influences of the time -and place, twitching my sleeve to enforce vigilance, I noted that -the lackeys had ceased to follow us, and that we three were -beginning to ascend a rough staircase cut in the rock. I -gathered, though the darkness limited my view behind as well as -in front to a few twinkling lights, that we were mounting the -scarp from the moat; to the side wall of the castle; and I was -not surprised when the marquis muttered to us to stop, and -knocked softly on the wood of a door. - -M. de Rosny might have spared the touch he had laid on my sleeve, -for by this time I was fully and painfully sensible of the -critical position in which we stood, and was very little likely -to commit an indiscretion. I trusted he had not done so already! -No doubt--it flashed across me while we waited--he had taken care -to safeguard himself. But how often, I reflected, had all -safeguards been set aside and all precautions eluded by those to -whom he was committing himself! Guise had thought himself secure -in this very building, which we were about to enter. Coligny had -received the most absolute of safe-conducts from those to whom we -were apparently bound. The end in either case had been the same ---the confidence of the one proving of no more avail than the -wisdom of the other. What if the King of France thought to make -his peace with his Catholic subjects--offended by the murder of -Guise--by a second murder of one as obnoxious to them as he was -precious to their arch-enemy in the South? Rosny was sagacious -indeed; but then I reflected with sudden misgiving that he was -young, ambitious, and bold. - -The opening of the door interrupted without putting an end to -this train of apprehension. A faint light shone out; so feebly -as to illumine little more than the stairs at our feet. The -marquis entered at once, M. de Rosny followed, I brought up the -rear; and the door was closed by a man who stood behind it. We -found ourselves crowded together at the foot of a very narrow -staircase, which the doorkeeper--a stolid pikeman in a grey -uniform, with a small lanthorn swinging from the crosspiece of -his halberd--signed to us to ascend. I said a word to him, but -he only stared in answer, and M. de Rambouillet, looking back and -seeing what I was about, called to me that it was useless, as the -man was a Swiss and spoke no French. - -This did not tend to reassure me; any more than did the chill -roughness of the wall which my hand touched as I groped upwards, -or the smell of bats which invaded my nostrils and suggested that -the staircase was little used and belonged to a part of the -castle fitted for dark and secret doings. - -We stumbled in the blackness up the steps, passing one door and -then a second before M. de Rambouillet whispered to us to stand, -and knocked gently at a third. - -The secrecy, the darkness, and above all the strange arrangements -made to receive us, filled me with the wildest conjectures. But -when the door opened and we passed one by one into a bare, -unfurnished, draughty gallery, immediately, as I judged, under -the tiles, the reality agreed with no one of my anticipations. -The place was a mere garret, without a hearth, without a single -stool. Three windows, of which one was roughly glazed, while the -others were filled with oiled paper, were set in one wall; the -others displaying the stones and mortar without disguise or -ornament. Beside the door through which we had entered stood a -silent figure in the grey uniform I had seen below, his lanthorn -on the floor at his feet. A second door at the farther end of -the gallery, which was full twenty paces long, was guarded in -like manner. A couple of lanthorns stood in the middle of the -floor, and that was all. - -Inside the door, M. de Rambouillet with his finger on his lip -stopped us, and we stood a little group of three a pace in front -of the sentry, and with the empty room before us. I looked at M. -de Rosny, but he was looking at Rambouillet. The marquis had his -back towards me, the sentry was gazing into vacancy; so that -baffled in my attempt to learn anything from the looks of the -other actors in the scene, I fell back on my ears. The rain -dripped outside and the moaning wind rattled the casements; but -mingled with these melancholy sounds--which gained force, as such -things always do, from the circumstances in which we were placed -and our own silence--I fancied I caught the distant hum of voices -and music and laughter. And that, I know not why, brought M. de -Guise again to my mind. - -The story of his death, as I had heard it from that accursed monk -in the inn on the Claine, rose up in all its freshness, with all -its details. I started when M. de Rambouillet coughed. I -shivered when Rosny shifted his feet. The silence grew -oppressive. Only the stolid men in grey seemed unmoved, -unexpectant; so that I remember wondering whether it was their -nightly duty to keep guard over an empty garret, the floor strewn -with scraps of mortar and ends of tiles. - -The interruption, when it came at last, came suddenly. The -sentry at the farther end of the gallery started and fell back a -pace. Instantly the door beside him opened and a man came in, -and closing it quickly behind him, advanced up the room with an -air of dignity, which even his strange appearance and attire -could not wholly destroy. - -He was of good stature and bearing, about forty years old as I -judged, his wear a dress of violet velvet with black points cut -in the extreme of the fashion. He carried a sword but no ruff, -and had a cup and ball of ivory--a strange toy much in vogue -among the idle--suspended from his wrist by a ribbon. He was -lean and somewhat narrow, but so far I found little fault with -him. It was only when my eye reached his face, and saw it rouged -like a woman's and surmounted by a little turban, that a feeling -of scarcely understood disgust seized me, and I said to myself, -'This is the stuff of which kings' minions are made!' - -To my surprise, however, M. de Rambouillet went to meet him with -the utmost respect, sweeping the dirty floor with his bonnet, and -bowing to the very ground. The newcomer acknowledged his salute -with negligent kindness. Remarking pleasantly 'You have brought -a friend, I think?' he looked towards us with a smile. - -'Yes, sire, he is here,' the marquis answered, stepping aside a -little. And with the word I understood that this was no minion, -but the king himself: Henry, the Third of the name, and the last -of the great House of Valois, which had ruled France by the grace -of God for two centuries and a half! I stared at him, and stared -at him, scarcely believing what I saw. For the first time in my -life I was in the presence of the king! - -Meanwhile M. de Rosny, to whom he was, of course, no marvel, had -gone forward and knelt on one knee. The king raised him -graciously, and with an action which, viewed apart from his -woman's face and silly turban, seemed royal and fitting. 'This -is good of you, Rosny,' he said. 'But it is only what I expected -of you.' - -'Sire,' my companion answered, 'your Majesty has no more devoted -servant than myself, unless it be the king my master.' - -'By my faith,' Henry answered with energy--'and if I am not a -good churchman, whatever those rascally Parisians say, I am -nothing--by my faith, I think I believe you!' - -'If your Majesty would believe me in that and in some other -things also,' M. de Rosny answered, 'it would be very well for -France.' Though he spoke courteously, he threw so much weight -and independence into his words that I thought of the old -proverb, 'A good master, a bold servant.' - -'Well, that is what we are here to see,' the king replied. 'But -one tells me one thing,' he went on fretfully, 'and one another, -and which am I to believe?' - -'I know nothing of others, sire,' Rosny answered with the same -spirit. 'But my master has every claim to be believed. His -interest in the royalty of France is second only to your -Majesty's. He is also a king and a kinsman, and it erks him to -see rebels beard you, as has happened of late.' - -'Ay, but the chief of them?' Henry exclaimed, giving way to -sudden excitement and stamping furiously on the floor. 'He will -trouble me no more. Has my brother heard of THAT? Tell me, sir, -has that news reached him?' - -'He has heard it, sire.' - -'And he approved? He approved, of course?' - -'Beyond doubt the man was a traitor,' M. de Rosny answered -delicately. 'His life was forfeit, sire. Who can question it?' - -'And he has paid the forfeit,' the king rejoined, looking down at -the floor and immediately falling into a moodiness as sudden as -his excitement. His lips moved. He muttered something -inaudible, and began to play absently with his cup and ball, his -mind occupied apparently with a gloomy retrospect. 'M. de Guise, -M. de Guise,' he murmured at last, with a sneer and an accent of -hate which told of old humiliations long remembered. 'Well, damn -him, he is dead now. He is dead. But being dead he yet troubles -us. Is not that the verse, father? Ha!' with a start, 'I was -forgetting. But that is the worst wrong he has done me,' he -continued, looking up and growing excited again. 'He has cut me -off from Mother Church. There is hardly a priest comes near me -now, and presently they will excommunicate me. And, as I hope -for salvation, the Church has no more faithful son than me.' - -I believe he was on the point, forgetting M. de Rosny's presence -there and his errand, of giving way to unmanly tears, when M. de -Rambouillet, as if by accident, let the heel of his scabbard fall -heavily on the floor. The king started, and passing his hand -once or twice across his brow, seemed to recover himself. -'Well,' he said, 'no doubt we shall find a way out of our -difficulties.' - -'If your Majesty,' Rosny answered respectfully, 'would accept the -aid my master proffers, I venture to think that they would vanish -the quicker.' - -'You think so,' Henry rejoined. 'Well, give me your shoulder. -Let us walk a little.' And, signing to Rambouillet to leave him, -he began to walk up and down with M. de Rosny, talking familiarly -with him in an undertone. - -Only such scraps of the conversation as fell from them when they -turned at my end of the gallery now reached me. Patching these -together, however, I managed to understand somewhat. At one turn -I heard the king say, 'But then Turenne offers--' At the next, -'Trust him? Well, I do not know why I should not. He promises ---' Then 'A Republic, Rosny? That his plan? Pooh! he dare not. -He could not. France is a kingdom by the ordinance of God in my -family.' - -I gathered from these and other chance words, which I have since -forgotten, that M. de Rosny was pressing the king to accept the -help of the King of Navarre, and warning him against the -insidious offers of the Vicomte de Turenne. The mention of a -Republic, however, seemed to excite his Majesty's wrath rather -against Rosny for presuming to refer to such a thing than against -Turenne, to whom he refused to credit it. He paused near my end -of the promenade. - -'Prove it!' he said angrily. 'But can you prove it? Can you -prove it? Mind you, I will take no hearsay evidence, sir. Now, -there is Turenne's agent here--you did not know, I dare say, that -he had an agent here?' - -'You refer, sire, to M. de Bruhl,' Rosny answered, without -hesitation. 'I know him, sire.' - -'I think you are the devil,' Henry answered, looking curiously at -him. 'You seem to know most things. But mind you, my friend, he -speaks me fairly, and I will not take this on hearsay even from -your master. Though,' he added after pausing a moment, 'I love -him.' - -'And he, your Majesty. He desires only to prove it.' - -'Yes, I know, I know,' the king answered fretfully. 'I believes -he does. I believe he does wish me well. But there will be a -devil of an outcry among my people. And Turenne gives fair words -too. And I do not know,' he continued, fidgeting with his cup -and ball, 'that it might not suit me better to agree with him, -you see.' - -I saw M. de Rosny draw himself up. 'Dare I speak openly to you, -sire,' he said, with less respect and more energy than he had -hitherto used. 'As I should to my master?' - -'Ay, say what you like,' Henry answered. But he spoke sullenly, -and it seemed to me that he looked less pleasantly at his -companion. - -'Then I will venture to utter what is in your Majesty's mind,' my -patron answered steadfastly. 'You fear, sire, lest, having -accepted my master's offer and conquered your enemies, you should -not be easily rid of him.' - -Henry looked relieved. 'Do you call that diplomacy?' he said -with a smile. 'However, what if it be so? What do you say to -it? Methinks I have heard an idle tale about a horse which would -hunt a stag; and for the purpose set a man upon its back.' - -'This I say, sire, first,' Rosny answered very earnestly. 'That -the King of Navarre is popular only with one-third of the -kingdom, and is only powerful when united with you. Secondly, -sire, it is his interest to support the royal power, to which he -is heir. And, thirdly, it must be more to your Majesty's honour -to accept help from a near kinsman than from an ordinary subject, -and one who, I still maintain, sire, has no good designs in his -mind.' - -'The proof' Henry said sharply. 'Give me that!' - -'I can give it in a week from this day.' - -'It must be no idle tale, mind you,' the king continued -suspiciously. - -'You shall have Turenne's designs, sire, from one who had them -from his own mouth.' - -The king looked startled, but after a pause turned and resumed -his walk. 'Well,' he said, 'if you do that, I on my part--' - -The rest I lost, for the two passing to the farther end of the -gallery, came to a standstill there, balking my curiosity and -Rambouillet's also. The marquis, indeed, began to betray his -impatience, and the great clock immediately over our heads -presently striking the half-hour after ten, he started and made -as if he would have approached the king. He checked the impulse, -however, but still continued to fidget uneasily, losing his -reserve by-and-by so far as to whisper to me that his Majesty -would be missed. - -I had been, up to this point, a silent and inactive spectator of -a scene which appealed to my keenest interests and aroused my -most ardent curiosity. Surprise following surprise, I had begun -to doubt my own identity; so little had I expected to find myself -first in the presence of the Most Christian King--and that under -circumstances as strange and bizarre as could well be imagined-- -and then an authorised witness at a negotiation upon which the -future of all the great land of France stretching for so many -hundred leagues on every side of us, depended. I say I could -scarcely believe in my own identity; or that I was the same -Gaston de Marsac who had slunk, shabby and out-at-elbows, about -St. Jean d'Angely. I tasted the first sweetness of secret -power, which men say is the sweetest of all and the last -relinquished; and, the hum of distant voices and laughter still -reaching me at intervals, I began to understand why we had been -admitted with, so much precaution, and to comprehend the -gratification of M. de Rosny when the promise of this interview -first presented to him the hope of effecting so much for his -master and for France. - -Now I was to be drawn into the whirlpool itself. I was still -travelling back over the different stages of the adventure which -had brought me to this point, when I was rudely awakened by M. de -Rosny calling my name in a raised voice. Seeing, somewhat late, -that he was beckoning to me to approach, I went forward in a -confused and hasty fashion; kneeling before the king as I had -seen him kneel, and then rising to give ear to his Majesty's -commands. Albeit, having expected nothing less than to be called -upon, I was not in the clearest mood to receive them. Nor was my -bearing such as I could have wished it to be. - -M. de Rosny tells me that you desire a commission at Court, sir,' -the king said quickly. - -'I, sire?' I stammered, scarcely able to believe my ears. I was -so completely taken aback that I could say no more, and I stopped -there with my mouth open. - -'There are few things I can deny M. de Rosny,' Henry continued, -speaking very rapidly, 'and I am told that you are a gentleman of -birth and ability. Out of kindness to him, therefore, I grant -you a commission to raise twenty men for my service. -Rambouillet,' he continued, raising his voice slightly, 'you will -introduce this gentleman to me publicly to-morrow, that; I may -carry into effect my intention on his behalf. You may go now, -sir. No thanks. And M. de Rosny,' he added, turning to my -companion and speaking with energy, 'have a care for my sake that -you are not recognised as you go. Rambouillet must contrive -something to enable you to leave without peril. I should be -desolated if anything happened to you, my friend, for I could not -protect you. I give you my word if Mendoza or Retz found you in -Blois I could not save you from them unless you recanted.' - -'I will not trouble either your Majesty or my conscience,' M. de -Rosny replied, bowing low, 'if my wits can help me.' - -'Well, the saints keep you,' the king answered piously, going -towards the door by which he had entered; 'for your master and I -have both need of you. Rambouillet, take care of him as you love -me. And come early in the morning to my closet and tell me how -it has fared with him.' - -We all stood bowing while he withdrew, and only turned to retire -when the door closed behind him. Burning with indignation and -chagrin as I was at finding myself disposed of in the way I have -described, and pitchforked, whether I would or no, into a service -I neither fancied nor desired, I still managed for the present to -restrain myself; and, permitting my companions to precede me, -followed in silence, listening sullenly to their jubilations. -The marquis seemed scarcely less pleased than M. de Rosny; and as -the latter evinced a strong desire to lessen any jealousy the -former might feel, and a generous inclination to attribute to him -a full share of the credit gained, I remained the only person -dissatisfied with the evening's events. We retired from the -chateau with the same precautions which had marked our entrance, -and parting with M. de Rambouillet at the door of our lodging-- -not without many protestations of esteem on his part and of -gratitude on that of M. de Rosny--mounted to the first-floor in -single file and in silence, which I was determined not to be the -first to break. - -Doubtless M. de Rosny knew my thoughts, for, speedily dismissing -Maignan and Simon, who were in waiting, he turned to me without -preface. 'Come, my friend,' he said, laying his hand on my -shoulder and looking me in the face in a way which all but -disarmed me at once, 'do not let us misunderstand one another. -You think you have cause to be angry with me. I cannot suffer -that, for the King of Navarre had never greater need of your -services than now.' - -'You have played me an unworthy trick, sir,'I answered, thinking -he would cozen me with fair speeches. - -'Tut, tut!' he replied. 'You do not understand.' - -'I understand well enough,' I answered, with bitterness, 'that, -having done the King of Navarre's work, he would now be rid of -me.' - -'Have I not told you,' M. de Rosny replied, betraying for the -first time some irritation, 'that he has greater need of your -services than ever? Come, man, be reasonable, or, better still, -listen to me.' And turning from me, he began to walk up and down -the room, his hands behind him. "the King of France--I want to -make it as clear to you as possible--' he said, 'cannot make head -against the League without help, and, willy-nilly, must look for -it to the Huguenots whom he has so long persecuted. The King of -Navarre, their acknowledged leader, has offered that help; and -so, to spite my master, and prevent a combination so happy for -France, has M. de Turenne, who would fain raise the faction he -commands to eminence, and knows well how to make his profit out -of the dissensions of his country. Are you clear so far, sir?' - -I assented. I was becoming absorbed in spite of myself. - -'Very well,' he resumed. 'This evening--never did anything fall -out more happily than Rambouillet's meeting with me--he is a good -man!--I have brought the king to this: that if proof of the -selfish nature of Turenne's designs be laid before him he will -hesitate no longer. That proof exists. A fortnight ago it was -here; but it is not here now.' - -'That is unlucky!' I exclaimed. I was so much interested in his -story, as well as flattered by the confidence he was placing in -me, that my ill-humour vanished. I went and stood with my -shoulder against the mantelpiece, and he, passing to and fro -between me and the light, continued his tale. - -'A word about this proof,' he said. 'It came into the King of -Navarre's hands before its full value was known to us, for that -only accrued to it on M. de Guise's death. A month ago it--this -piece of evidence I mean--was at Chize. A fortnight or so ago it -was here in Blois. It is now, 'M. de Marsac,' he continued, -facing me suddenly as he came opposite me, 'in my house at -Rosny.' - -I started. 'You mean Mademoiselle de la Vire?' I cried. - -'I mean Mademoiselle de la Vire!' he answered, 'who, some month -or two ago, overheard M. de Turenne's plans, and contrived to -communicate with the King of Navarre. Before the latter could -arrange a private interview, however, M. de Turenne got wind of -her dangerous knowledge, and swept her off to Chize. The rest -you know, M. de Marsac, if any man knows it.' - -'But what will you do?' I asked. 'She is at Rosny.' - -'Maignan, whom I trust implicitly, as far as his lights go, will -start to fetch her to-morrow. At the same hour I start -southwards. You, M. de Marsac, will remain here as my agent, to -watch over my interests, to receive Mademoiselle on her arrival, -to secure for her a secret interview with the king, to guard her -while she remains here. Do you understand?' - -Did I understand? I could not find words in which to thank him. -My remorse and gratitude, my sense of the wrong I had done him, -and of the honour he was doing me, were such that I stood mute -before him as I had stood before the king. 'You accept, then?' -he said, smiling. 'You do not deem the adventure beneath you, my -friend?' - -'I deserve your confidence so little, sir,' I answered, stricken -to the ground, 'that I beg you to speak, while I listen. By -attending exactly to your instructions I may prove worthy of the -trust reposed in me. And only so.' - -He embraced me again and again, with a, kindness which moved me -almost to tears. 'You are a man after my own heart,' he said, -'and if God wills I will make your fortune. Now listen, my -friend. To-morrow at Court, as a stranger and a man introduced -by Rambouillet, you will be the cynosure of all eyes. Bear -yourself bravely. Pay court to the women, but attach yourself to -no one in particular. Keep aloof from Retz and the Spanish -faction, but beware especially of Bruhl. He alone will have your -secret, and may suspect your design. Mademoiselle should be here -in a week; while she is with you, and until she has seen the -king, trust no one, suspect everyone, fear all things. Consider -the battle won only when the king says, "I am satisfied."' - -Much more he told me, which served its purpose and has been -forgotten. Finally he honoured me by bidding me share his pallet -with him, that we might talk without restraint, and that if -anything occurred to him in the night he might communicate it to -me. - -'But will not Bruhl denounce me as a Huguenot?' I asked him. - -'He will not dare to do so,' M. de Rosny answered, 'both as a -Huguenot himself, and as his master's representative; and, -further, because it would displease the king. No, but whatever -secret harm one man can do another, that you have to fear. -Maignan, when he returns with mademoiselle, will leave two men -with you; until they come I should borrow a couple of stout -fellows from Rambouillet. Do not go out alone after dark, and -beware of doorways, especially your own.' - -A little later, when I thought him asleep, I heard him chuckle; -and rising on my elbow I asked him what it was. 'Oh, it is your -affair,' he answered, still laughing silently, so that I felt the -mattress shake under him. 'I don't envy you one part of your -task, my friend.' - -'What is that?' I said suspiciously. - -'Mademoiselle,' he answered, stifling with difficulty a burst of -laughter. And after that he would not say another word, bad, -good, or indifferent, though I felt the bed shake more than once, -and knew that he was digesting his pleasantry. - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -IN THE KING'S CHAMBER. - -M. de Rosny had risen from my side and started on his journey -when I opened my eyes in the morning, and awoke to the memory of -the task which had been so strangely imposed upon me; and which -might, according as the events of the next fortnight shaped -themselves, raise me to high position or put an end to my career. -He had not forgotten to leave a souvenir behind him, for I found -beside my pillow a handsome silver-mounted pistol, bearing the -letter 'R.' and a coronet; nor had I more than discovered this -instance of his kindness before Simon Fleix came in to tell me -that M. de Rosny had left two hundred crowns in his hands for me. - -'Any message with it?' I asked the lad. - -'Only that; he had taken a keepsake in exchange,' Simon answered, -opening the window as he spoke. - -In some wonder I began to search, but I could not discover that -anything was missing until I came to put on my doublet, when I -found that the knot of ribbon which mademoiselle had flung to me -at my departure from Rosny was gone from the inside of the -breast, where I had pinned it for safety with a long thorn. The -discovery that M. de Rosny had taken this was displeasing to me -on more than one account. In the first place, whether -mademoiselle had merely wished to plague me (as was most -probable) or not, I was loth to lose it, my day for ladies' -favours being past and gone; in the second, I misdoubted the -motive which had led him to purloin it, and tormented myself with -thinking of the different constructions he might put upon it, and -the disparaging view of my trust worthiness which it might lead -him to take. I blamed myself much for my carelessness in leaving -it where a chance eye might rest upon it; and more when, -questioning Simon further, I learned that M. de Rosny had added, -while mounting at the door, 'Tell your master, safe bind, safe -find; and a careless lover makes a loose mistress.' - -I felt my cheek burn in a manner unbecoming my years while Simon -with some touch of malice repeated this; and I made a vow on the -spot, which I kept until I was tempted to break it, to have no -more to do with such trifles. Meanwhile, I had to make the best -of it; and brisking up, and bidding Simon, who seemed depressed -by the baron's departure, brisk up also, I set about my -preparations for making such a figure at Court as became me: -procuring a black velvet suit, and a cap and feather to match; -item, a jewelled clasp to secure the feather; with a yard or two -of lace and two changes of fine linen. - -Simon had grown sleek at Rosny, and losing something of the -wildness which had marked him, presented in the dress M. de Rosny -had given him a very creditable appearance; being also, I fancy, -the only equerry in Blois who could write. A groom I engaged on -the recommendation of M. de Rambouillet's master of the horse; -and I gave out also that I required a couple of valets. It -needed only an hour under the barber's hands and a set of new -trappings for the Cid to enable me to make a fair show, such as -might be taken to indicate a man of ten or twelve thousand livres -a year. - -In this way I expended a hundred and fifteen crowns. reflecting -that this was a large sum, and that I must keep some money for -play, I was glad to learn that in the crowded state of the city -even men with high rank were putting up with poor lodging; I -determined, therefore, to combine economy with a scheme which I -had in my head by taking the rooms in which my mother died, with -one room below them. This I did, hiring such furniture as I -needed, which was not a great deal. To Simon Fleix, whose -assistance in these matters was invaluable, I passed on much of -M. de Rosny's advice, bidding him ruffle it with the best in his -station, and inciting him to labour for my advancement by -promising to make his fortune whenever my own should be assured. -I hoped, indeed, to derive no little advantage from the quickness -of wit; which had attracted M. de Rosny's attention; although I -did not fail to take into account at the same time that the lad -was wayward and fitful, prone at one time to depression, and at -another to giddiness, and equally uncertain in either mood. - -M. de Rambouillet being unable to attend the LEVEE, had appointed -me to wait upon him at six in the evening; at which hour I -presented myself at his lodgings, attended by Simon Fleix. I -found him in the midst of half a dozen gentlemen whose habit it -was to attend him upon all public occasions; and these gallants, -greeting me with the same curious and suspicious glances which I -have seen hounds bestow on a strange dog introduced into their -kennel, I was speedily made to feel that it is one thing to have -business at Court, and another to be well received there. - -M. de Rambouillet, somewhat to my surprise, did nothing to remove -this impression. On all ordinary occasions a man of stiff and -haughty bearing, and thoroughly disliking, though he could not -prevent, the intrusion of a third party into a transaction which -promised an infinity of credit, he received me so coldly and with -so much reserve as for the moment to dash my spirits and throw me -back on myself. - -During the journey to the castle, however, which we performed on -foot, attended by half a dozen armed servants bearing torches, I -had time to recall M. de Rosny's advice, and to bethink me of the -intimacy which that great man had permitted me; with so much -effect in the way of heartening me, that as we crossed the -courtyard of the castle I advanced myself, not without some -murmuring on the part of others, to Rambouillet's elbow, -considering that as I was attached to him by the king's command, -this was my proper place. I had no desire to quarrel, however, -and persisted for some time in disregarding the nudges and -muttered words which were exchanged round me, and even the -efforts which were made as we mounted the stairs to oust me from -my position. But a young gentleman, who showed himself very -forward in these attempts, presently stumbling against me, I -found it necessary to look at him. - -'Sir,' he said, in a small and lisping voice, 'you trod on my -toe.' - -Though I had not done so, I begged his pardon very politely. But -as his only acknowledgment of this courtesy consisted in an -attempt to get his knee in front of mine--we were mounting very -slowly, the stairs being cumbered with a multitude of servants, -who stood on either hand--I did tread on his toe, with a force -and directness which made him cry out. - -'What is the matter?' Rambouillet asked, looking back hastily. - -'Nothing, M. le Marquis,' I answered, pressing on steadfastly. - -'Sir,' my young friend said again, in the same lisping voice, -'you trod on my toe.' - -'I believe I did, sir,' I answered. - -'You have not yet apologised,' he murmured gently in my ear. - -'Nay, there you are wrong,' I rejoined bluntly, 'for it is always -my habit to apologise first and tread afterwards.' - -He smiled as at a pleasant joke; and I am bound to say that his -bearing was so admirable that if he had been my son I could have -hugged him. 'Good!' he answered. 'No doubt your sword is as -sharp as your wits, sir. I see,' he continued, glancing naively -at my old scabbard--he was himself the very gem of a courtier, a -slender youth with a pink-and-white complexion, a dark line for a -moustache, and a pearl-drop in his ear--'it is longing to be out. -Perhaps you will take a turn in the tennis-court to-morrow?' - -'With pleasure, sir,' I answered, 'if you have a father, or your -elder brother is grown up.' - -What answer he would have made to this gibe I do not know, for at -that moment we reached the door of the ante-chamber; and this -being narrow, and a sentry in the grey uniform of the Swiss Guard -compelling all to enter in single file, my young friend was -forced to fall back, leaving me free to enter alone, and admire -at my leisure a scene at once brilliant and sombre. - -The Court being in mourning for the Queen-mother, black -predominated in the dresses of those present, and set off very -finely the gleaming jewels and gemmed sword-hilts which were worn -by the more important personages. The room was spacious and -lofty, hung with arras, and lit by candles burning in silver -sconces; it rang as we entered with the shrill screaming of a -parrot, which was being teased by a group occupying the farther -of the two hearths. Near them play was going on at one table, -and primero at a second. In a corner were three or four ladies, -in a circle about a red-faced, plebeian-looking man, who was -playing at forfeits with one of their number; while the middle of -the room seemed dominated by a middle-sized man with a peculiarly -inflamed and passionate countenance, who, seated on a table, was -inveighing against someone or something in the most violent -terms, his language being interlarded with all kinds of strange -and forcible oaths. Two or three gentlemen, who had the air of -being his followers, stood about him, listening between -submission and embarrassment; while beside the nearer fireplace, -but at some distance from him, lounged a nobleman, very richly -dressed, and wearing on his breast the Cross of the Holy Ghost; -who seemed to be the object of his invective, but affecting to -ignore it was engaged in conversation with a companion. A -bystander muttering that Crillon had been drinking, I discovered -with immense surprise that the declaimer on the table was that -famous soldier; and I was still looking at him in wonder--for I -had been accustomed all my life to associate courage with -modesty--when, the door of the chamber suddenly opening, a -general movement in that direction took place. Crillon, -disregarding all precedency, sprang from his table and hurried -first to the threshold. The Baron de Biron, on the other hand-- -for the gentleman by the fire was no other--waited, in apparent -ignorance of the slight which was being put upon him, until M. de -Rambouillet came up; then he went forward with him. Keeping -close to my patron's elbow, I entered the chamber immediately -behind him. - -Crillon had already seized upon the king, and, when we entered, -was stating his grievance is a voice not much lower than that -which he had used outside. M. de Biron, seeing this, parted from -the marquis, and, going aside with his former companion, sat -down on a trunk against the wall; while Rambouillet, followed by -myself and three or four gentlemen of his train, advanced to the -king, who was standing near the alcove. His Majesty seeing him, -and thankful, I think, for the excuse, waved Crillon off. 'Tut, -tut! You told me all that this morning,' he said good-naturedly. -'And here is Rambouillet, who has, I hope, something fresh to -tell. Let him speak to me. Sanctus! Don't look at me as if you -would run me through, man. Go and quarrel with someone of your -own size.' - -Crillon at this retired grumbling, and Henry, who had just risen -from primero with the Duke of Nevers, nodded to Rambouillet. -'Well, my friend, anything fresh?' he cried. He was more at his -ease and looked more cheerful than at our former interview; yet -still care and suspicion lurked about his peevish mouth, and in -the hollows under his gloomy eyes. 'A new guest, a new face, or -a new game--which have you brought?' - -'In a sense, sire, a new face,' the marquis answered, bowing, and -standing somewhat aside that I might have place. - -'Well, I cannot say much for the pretty baggage,' quoth the king -quickly. And amid a general titter he extended his hand to me. -'I'll be sworn, though,' he continued, as I rose from my knee, -'that you want something, my friend?' - -'Nay, sire,' I answered, holding up my head boldly--for Crillon's -behaviour had been a further lesson to me--'I have, by your -leave, the advantage. For your Majesty has supplied me with a -new jest. I see many new faces round me, and I have need only of -a new game. If your Majesty would be pleased to grant me--' - -'There! Said I not so?' cried the king, raising his hand with a -laugh. 'He does want something. But he seems not undeserving. -What does he pray, Rambouillet?' - -'A small command,' M. de Rambouillet answered, readily playing -his part. 'And your Majesty would oblige me if you could grant -the Sieur de Marsac's petition. I will answer for it he is a man -of experience.' - -'Chut! A small command?' Henry ejaculated, sitting down -suddenly in apparent ill-humour. 'It is what everyone wants-- -when they do not want big ones. Still, I suppose,' he continued, -taking up a comfit-box, which lay beside him, and opening it, 'if -you do not get what you want for him you will sulk like the rest, -my friend.' - -'Your Majesty has never had cause to complain of me,' quoth the -Marquis, forgetting his role, or too proud to play it. - -'Tut, tut, tut, tut! Take it, and trouble me no more,' the king -rejoined. 'Will pay for twenty men do for him? Very well then. -There, M. de Marsac,' he continued, nodding at me and yawning, -'your request is granted. You will find some other pretty -baggages over there. Go to them. And now, Rambouillet,' he went -on, resuming his spirits as he turned to matters of more -importance, 'here is a new sweetmeat Zamet has sent me. I have -made Zizi sick with it. Will you try it? It is flavoured with -white mulberries.' - -Thus dismissed, I fell back; and stood for a moment, at a loss -whither to turn, in the absence of either friends or -acquaintances. His Majesty, it is true, had bidden me go to -certain pretty baggages, meaning, apparently, five ladies who -were seated at the farther end of the room, diverting themselves -with as many cavaliers; but the compactness of this party, the -beauty of the ladies, and the merry peals of laughter which -proceeded from them, telling of a wit and vivacity beyond the -ordinary, sapped the resolution which had borne me well hitherto. -I felt that to attack such a phalanx, even with a king's good -will, was beyond the daring of a Crillon, and I looked round to -see whether I could not amuse myself in some more modest fashion. - -The material was not lacking. Crillon, still mouthing out his -anger, strode up and down in front of the trunk on which M. de -Biron was seated; but the latter was, or affected to be, asleep. -'Crillon is for ever going into rages now,' a courtier beside me -whispered. - -'Yes,' his fellow answered, with a shrug of the shoulder; 'it is -a pity there is no one to tame him. But he has such a long -reach, morbleu!' - -'It is not that so much as the fellow's fury,' the first speaker -rejoined under his breath. 'He fights like a mad thing; fencing -is no use against him.' - -The other nodded. For a moment the wild idea of winning renown -by taming M. de Crillon occurred to me as I stood alone in the -middle of the floor; but it had not more than passed through my -brain when I felt my elbow touched, and turned to find the young -gentleman whom I had encountered on the stairs standing by my -side. - -'Sir,' he lisped, in the same small voice, 'I think you trod on -my toe a while ago?' - -I stared at him, wondering what he meant by this absurd -repetition. 'Well, sir,' I answered drily, 'and if I did?' - -'Perhaps,' he said, stroking his chin with his jewelled fingers, -'pending our meeting to-morrow, you would allow me to consider it -as a kind of introduction?' - -'If it please you,' I answered, bowing stiffly, and wondering -what he would be at. - -'Thank you,' he answered. 'It does please me, under the -circumstances; for there is a lady here who desires a word with -you. I took up her challenge. Will you follow me?' - -He bowed, and turned in his languid fashion. I, turning too, -saw, with secret dismay, that the five ladies, referred to above, -were all now gazing at me, as expecting my approach; and this -with such sportive glances as told only too certainly of some -plot already in progress or some trick to be presently played me. -Yet I could not see that I had any choice save to obey, and, -following my leader with as much dignity as I could compass, I -presently found myself bowing before the lady who sat nearest, -and who seemed to be the leader of these nymphs. - -'Nay, sir,' she said, eyeing me curiously, yet with a merry face, -'I do not need you; I do not look so high!' - -Turning in confusion to the next, I was surprised to see before -me the lady whose lodging I had invaded in my search for -Mademoiselle de la Vire--she, I mean, who, having picked up the -velvet; knot, had dropped it so providentially where Simon Fleix -found it. She looked at me blushing and laughing, and the young -gentleman, who had done her errand, presenting me by name, she -asked me, while the others listened, whether I had found my -mistress. - -Before I could answer, the lady to whom I had first addressed -myself interposed. 'Stop, sir!' she cried. What is this--a -tale, a jest, a game, or a forfeit?' - -'An adventure, madam,' I answered, bowing low. - -'Of gallantry, I'll be bound,' she exclaimed. 'Fie, Madame de -Bruhl, and you but six months married!' - -Madame de Bruhl protested, laughing, that she had no more to do -with it than Mercury. 'At the worst,' she said, 'I carried the -POULETS! But I can assure you, duchess, this gentleman should be -able to tell us a very fine story, if he would.' - -The duchess and all the other ladies clapping their hands at -this, and crying out that the story must and should be told, I -found myself in a prodigious quandary; and one wherein my wits -derived as little assistance as possible from the bright eyes and -saucy looks which environed me. Moreover, the commotion -attracting other listeners, I found my position, while I tried to -extricate myself, growing each moment worse, so that I began to -fear that as I had little imagination I should perforce have to -tell the truth. The mere thought of this threw me into a cold -perspiration, lest I should let slip something of consequence, -and prove myself unworthy of the trust which M. de Rosny had -reposed in me. - -At the moment when, despairing of extricating myself, I was -stooping over Madame de Bruhl begging her to assist me, I heard, -amid the babel of laughter and raillery which surrounded me-- -certain of the courtiers having already formed hands in a circle -and sworn I should not depart without satisfying the ladies--a -voice which struck a chord in my memory. I turned to see who the -speaker was, and encountered no other than M. de Bruhl himself; -who, with a flushed and angry face, was listening to the -explanation which a friend was pouring into his ear. Standing at -the moment with my knee on Madame de Bruhl's stool, and -remembering very well the meeting on the stairs, I conceived in a -flash that the man was jealous; but whether he had yet heard my -name, or had any clew to link me with the person who had rescued -Mademoiselle de la Vire from his clutches, I could not tell. -Nevertheless his presence led my thoughts into a new channel. -The determination to punish him began to take form in my mind, -and very quickly I regained my composure. Still I was for giving -him one chance. Accordingly I stooped once more to Madame de -Bruhl's ear, and begged her to spare me the embarrassment of -telling my tale. But then, finding her pitiless, as I expected, -and the rest of the company growing more and more insistent, I -hardened my heart to go through with the fantastic notion which -had occurred to me. - -Indicating by a gesture that I was prepared to obey, and the -duchess crying for a hearing, this was presently obtained, the -sudden silence adding the king himself to my audience. 'What is -it?' he asked, coming up effusively, with a lap-dog in his arms. -'A new scandal, eh?' - -'No, sire, a new tale-teller,' the duchess answered pertly. 'If -your Majesty will sit, we shall hear him the sooner.' - -He pinched her ear and sat down in the chair which a page -presented. 'What! is it Rambouillet's GRISON again?' he said -with some surprise. 'Well, fire away, man. But who brought you -forward as a Rabelais?' - -There was a general cry of 'Madame de Bruhl!' whereat that lady -shook her fair hair, about her face, and cried out for someone to -bring her a mask. - -'Ha, I see!' said the king drily, looking pointedly at M. de -Bruhl, who was as black as thunder. 'But go on, man.' - -The king's advent, by affording me a brief respite, had enabled -me to collect my thoughts, and, disregarding the ribald -interruptions, which at first were frequent, I began as follows: -'I am no Rabelais, sire,' I said, 'but droll things happen to the -most unlikely. Once upon a time it was the fortune of a certain -swain, whom I will call Dromio, to arrive in a town not a hundred -miles from Blois, having in his company a nymph of great beauty, -who had been entrusted to his care by her parents. He had not -more than lodged her in his apartments, however, before she was -decoyed away by a trick, and borne off against her will by a -young gallant, who had seen her and been smitten by her charms. -Dromio, returning, and finding his mistress gone, gave way to the -most poignant grief. He ran up and down the city, seeking her in -every place, and filling all places with his lamentations; but -for a time in vain, until chance led him to a certain street, -where, in an almost incredible manner, he found a clew to her by -discovering underfoot a knot of velvet, bearing Phyllida's name -wrought on it in delicate needlework, with the words, "A moi!"' - -'Sanctus!' cried the king, amid a general murmur of surprise, -'that is well devised! Proceed, sir. Go on like that, and we -will make your twenty men twenty-five.' - -'Dromio,' I continued, 'at sight of this trifle experienced the -most diverse emotions, for while he possessed in it a clew to his -mistress's fate, he had still to use it so as to discover the -place whither she had been hurried. It occurred to him at last -to begin his search with the house before which the knot had -lain. Ascending accordingly to the second-floor, he found there -a fair lady reclining on a couch, who started up in affright at -his appearance. He hastened to reassure her, and to explain the -purpose of his coming, and learned after a conversation with -which I will not trouble your Majesty, though it was sufficiently -diverting, that the lady had found the velvet knot in another -part of the town, and had herself dropped it again in front of -her own house.' - -'Pourquoi?' the king asked, interrupting me. - -'The swain, sire,' I answered, 'was too much taken up with his -own troubles to bear that in mind, even if he learned it. But -this delicacy did not save him from misconception, for as he -descended from the lady's apartment he met her husband on the -stairs.' - -'Good!' the king exclaimed, rubbing his hands in glee. 'The -husband!' And under cover of the gibe and the courtly laugh -which followed it M. de Bruhl's start of surprise passed -unnoticed save by me. - -'The husband,' I resumed, 'seeing a stranger descending his -staircase, was for stopping him and learning the reason of his -presence; But Dromio, whose mind was with Phyllida, refused to -stop, and, evading his questions, hurried to the part of the town -where the lady had told him she found the velvet knot. Here, -sire, at the corner of a lane running between garden-walls, he -found a great house, barred and gloomy, and well adapted to the -abductor's purpose. Moreover, scanning it on every side, he -presently discovered, tied about the bars of an upper window, a -knot of white linen, the very counterpart of that velvet one -which he bore in his breast. Thus he knew that the nymph was -imprisoned in that room!' - -'I will make it twenty-five, as I am a good Churchman!' his -Majesty exclaimed, dropping the little dog he was nursing into -the duchess's lap, and taking out his comfit-box. 'Rambouillet,' -he added languidly, 'your friend is a treasure!' - -I bowed my acknowledgments, and took occasion as I did so to step -a pace aside, so as to command a view of Madame de Bruhl, as well -as her husband. Hitherto madame, willing to be accounted a part -in so pretty a romance, and ready enough also, unless I was -mistaken, to cause her husband a little mild jealousy, had -listened to the story with a certain sly demureness. But this I -foresaw would not last long; and I felt something like -compunction as the moment for striking the blow approached. But -I had now no choice. 'The best is yet to come, sire,' I went on, -'as I think you will acknowledge in a moment. Dromio, though he -had discovered his mistress, was still in the depths of despair. -He wandered round and round the house, seeking ingress and -finding none, until at length, sunset approaching, and darkness -redoubling his fears for the nymph, fortune took pity on him. As -he stood in front of the house he saw the abductor come out, -lighted by two servants. Judge of his surprise, sire,' I -continued, looking round and speaking slowly, to give full effect -to my words, 'when he recognised in him no other than the husband -of the lady who, by picking up and again dropping the velvet -knot, had contributed so much to the success of his search!' - -'Ha! these husbands!' cried the king. And slapping his knee in -an ecstasy at his own acuteness, he laughed in his seat till he -rolled again. 'These husbands! Did I not say so?' - -The whole Court gave way to like applause, and clapped. their -hands as well, so that few save those who stood nearest took -notice of Madame de Bruhl's faint cry, and still fewer understood -why she rose up suddenly from her stool and stood gazing at her -husband with burning cheeks and clenched hands. She took no heed -of me, much less of the laughing crowd round her, but looked only -at him with her soul in her eyes. He, after uttering one hoarse -curse, seemed to have no thought for any but me. To have the -knowledge that his own wife had baulked him brought home to him -in this mocking fashion, to find how little a thing had tripped -him that day, to learn how blindly he had played into the hands -of fate, above all to be exposed at once to his wife's resentment -and the ridicule of the Court--for he could not be sure that I -should not the next moment disclose his name--all so wrought on -him that for a moment I thought he would strike me in the -presence. - -His rage, indeed, did what I had not meant to do. For the king, -catching sight of his face, and remembering that Madame de Bruhl -had elicited the story, screamed suddenly, 'Haro!' and pointed -ruthlessly at him with his finger. After that I had no need to -speak, the story leaping from eye to eye, and every eye settling -on Bruhl, who sought in vain to compose his features. Madame, -who surpassed him, as women commonly do surpass men, in self- -control, was the, first to recover herself, and sitting down as -quickly as she had risen, confronted alike her husband and her -rivals with a pale smile. - -For a moment curiosity and excitement kept all breathless, the -eye alone busy. Then the king laughed mischievously. 'Come, M. -de Bruhl,' he cried, 'perhaps you will finish the tale for us?' -And he threw himself back in his chair, a sneer on his lips. - -'Or why not Madame de Bruhl?' said the duchess, with her head on -one side and her eyes glittering over her fan. 'Madame would, I -am sure, tell it so well.' - -But madame only shook her head, smiling always that forced smile. -For Bruhl himself, glaring from face to face like a bull about to -charge, I have never seen a man more out of countenance, or more -completely brought to bay. His discomposure, exposed as he was -to the ridicule of all present, was such that the presence in -which he stood scarcely hindered him from some violent attack; -and his eyes, which had wandered from me at the king's word, -presently returning to me again, he so far forgot himself as to -raise his hand furiously, uttering at the same time a savage -oath. - -The king cried out angrily, 'Have a care, sir!' But Bruhl only -heeded this so far as to thrust aside those who stood round him -and push his way hurriedly through the circle. - -'Arnidieu!' cried the king, when he was gone. 'This is fine -conduct! I have half a mind to send after him and have him put -where his hot blood would cool a little. Or--' - -He stopped abruptly, his eyes resting on me. The relative -positions of Bruhl and myself as the agents of Rosny and Turenne -occurred to him for the first time, I think, and suggested the -idea, perhaps, that I had laid a trap for him, and that he had -fallen into it. At any rate his face grew darker and darker, and -at last, 'A nice kettle of fish this is you have prepared for us, -sir!' he muttered, gazing at me gloomily. - -The sudden change in his humour took even courtiers by surprise. -Faces a moment before broad with smiles grew long again. The -less important personages looked uncomfortably at one another, -and with one accord frowned on me. 'If your Majesty would please -to hear the end of the story at another time?' I suggested -humbly, beginning to wish with all my heart that I had never said -a word. - -'Chut!' he answered, rising, his face still betraying his -perturbation, 'Well, be it so. For the present you may go, sir. -Duchess, give me Zizi, and come to my closet. I want you to see -my puppies. Retz, my good friend, do you come too. I have -something to say to you. Gentlemen, you need not wait. It is -likely I shall be late.' - -And, with the utmost abruptness, he broke up the circle. - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -THE JACOBIN MONK. - -Had I needed any reminder of the uncertainty of Court favour, or -an instance whence I might learn the lesson of modesty, and so -stand in less danger of presuming on my new and precarious -prosperity, I had it in this episode, and in the demeanour of the -company round me. On the circle breaking up in confusion, I -found myself the centre of general regard, but regard of so -dubious a character, the persons who would have been the first to -compliment me had the king retired earlier, standing farthest -aloof now, that I felt myself rather insulted than honoured by -it. One or two, indeed, of the more cautious spirits did -approach me; but it was with the air of men providing against a -danger particularly remote, their half-hearted speeches serving -only to fix them in my memory as belonging to a class, especially -abhorrent to me--the class, I mean, of those who would run at -once with the hare and the hounds. - -I was rejoiced to find that on one person, and that the one whose -disposition towards me was, next to the king's, of first -importance, this episode had produced a different impression, -Feeling, as I made for the door, a touch on my arm, I turned to -find M. de Rambouillet at my elbow, regarding me with a glance of -mingled esteem and amusement; in fine, with a very different look -from that which had been my welcome earlier in the evening. I -was driven to suppose that he was too great a man, or too sure of -his favour with the king, to be swayed by the petty motives which -actuated the Court generally, for he laid his hand familiarly on -my shoulder, and walked on beside me. - -'Well my friend,' he said,' you have distinguished yourself -finely! I do not know that I ever remember a pretty woman making -more stir in one evening. But if you are wise you will not go -home alone to-night.' - -'I have my sword, M. le Marquis,' I answered, somewhat proudly. -'Which will avail you little against a knife in the back!' he -retorted drily. 'What attendance have you?' - -'My equerry, Simon Fleix, is on the stairs.' - -'Good, so far, but not enough,' he replied, as we reached the -head of the staircase. 'You had better come home with me now, -and two or three of my fellows shall go on to your lodging with -you. Do you know, my friend,' he continued, looking at me -keenly, 'you are either a very clever or a very foolish man?' - -I made answer modestly. 'Neither the one, I fear, nor the other, -I hope sir,' I said. - -'Well, you have done a very pertinent thing,' he replied, 'for -good or evil. You have let the enemy know what he has to expect, -and he is not one, I warn you, to be despised. But whether you -have been very wise or very foolish in declaring open war remains -to be seen.' - -'A week will show,' I answered. - -He turned and looked at me. 'You take it coolly,' he said. - -'I have been knocking about the world for forty years, marquis,' -I rejoined. - -He muttered something about Rosny having a good eye, and then -stopped to adjust his cloak. We were by this time in the street. -Making me go hand in hand with him, he requested the other -gentlemen to draw their swords; and the servants being likewise -armed and numbering half a score or more, with pikes and torches, -we made up a very formidable party, and caused, I think, more -alarm as we passed through the streets to Rambouillet's lodging -than we had any reason to feel. Not that we had it all to -ourselves, for the attendance at Court that evening being large, -and the circle breaking up as I have described more abruptly than -usual, the vicinity of the castle was in a ferment, and the -streets leading from it were alive with the lights and laughter -of parties similar to our own. - -At the door of the marquis's lodging I prepared to take leave of -him with many expressions of gratitude, but he would have me -enter and sit down with him to a light refection, which it was -his habit to take before retiring. Two of his gentlemen sat down -with us, and a valet, who was in his confidence, waiting on us, -we made very merry over the scene in the presence. I learned -that M. de Bruhl was far from popular at Court; but being known -to possess some kind of hold over the king, and enjoying besides -a great reputation for recklessness and skill with the sword, he -had played a high part for a length of time, and attached to -himself, especially since the death of Guise, a considerable -number of followers. - -'The truth is,' one of the marquis's gentlemen, who was a little -heated with wine, observed, 'there is nothing at this moment -which a bold and unscrupulous man may not win in France!' - -'Nor a bold and Christian gentleman for France!' replied M. de -Rambouillet with, some asperity. 'By the way,' he continued, -turning abruptly to the servant, 'where is M. Francois?' - -The valet answered that he had not returned with us from the -castle. The Marquis expressed himself annoyed at this, and I -gathered, firstly, that the missing man was his near kinsman, -and, secondly, that he was also the young spark who had been so -forward to quarrel with me earlier in the evening. Determining -to refer the matter, should it become pressing, to Rambouillet -for adjustment, I took leave of him, and attended by two of his -servants, whom he kindly transferred to my service for the -present, I started towards my lodging a little before midnight. - -The moon had risen while we were at supper, and its light, which -whitened the gables on one side of the street, diffused a glimmer -below sufficient to enable us to avoid the kennel. Seeing this, -I bade the men put out our torch. Frost had set in, and a keen -wind was blowing, so that we were glad to hurry on at a good -pace; and the streets being quite deserted at this late hour, or -haunted only by those who had come to dread the town marshal, we -met no one and saw no lights. I fell to thinking, for my part, -of the evening I had spent searching Blois for Mademoiselle, and -of the difference between then and now. Nor did I fail while on -this track to retrace it still farther to the evening of our -arrival at my mother's; whence, as a source, such kindly and -gentle thoughts welled up in my mind as were natural, and the -unfailing affection of that gracious woman required. These, -taking the place for the moment of the anxious calculations and -stern purposes which had of late engrossed me, were only ousted -by something which, happening under my eyes, brought me violently -and abruptly to myself. - -This was the sudden appearance of three men, who issued one by -one from an alley a score of yards in front of us, and after -pausing a second to look back the way they had come, flitted on -in single file along the street, disappearing, as far as the -darkness permitted me to judge, round a second corner. I by no -means liked their appearance, and, as a scream and the clash of -arms rang out next moment from the direction in which they had -gone, I cried lustily to Simon Fleix to follow, and ran on, -believing from the rascals' movements that they were after no -good, but that rather some honest man was like to be sore beset. - -On reaching the lane down which they had plunged, however, I -paused a moment, considering not so much its black-ness, which -was intense, the eaves nearly meeting overhead, as the small -chance I had of distinguishing between attackers and attacked. -But Simon and the men overtaking me, and the sounds of a sharp -tussle still continuing, I decided to venture, and plunged into -the alley, my left arm well advanced, with the skirt of my cloak -thrown over it, and my sword drawn back. I shouted as I ran, -thinking that the knaves might desist on hearing me; and this was -what happened, for as I arrived on the scene of action--the -farther end of the alley--two men took to their heels, while of -two who remained, one lay at length in the kennel, and another -rose slowly from his knees. - -'You are just in time, sir,' the latter said, breathing hard, but -speaking with a preciseness which sounded familiar. 'I am -obliged to you, sir, whoever you are. The villains had got me -down, and in a few minutes more would have made my mother -childless. By the way, you have no light, have you?' he -continued, lisping like a woman. - -One of M. de Rambouillet's men, who had by this time come up, -cried out that it was Monsieur Francois. - -'Yes, blockhead!' the young gentleman answered with the utmost -coolness. 'But I asked for a light, not for my name. - -'I trust you are not hurt, sir?' I said, putting up my sword. - -'Scratched only,' he answered, betraying no surprise on learning -who it was had come up so opportunely; as he no doubt did learn -from my voice, for he continued with a bow, a slight price to pay -for the knowledge that M. de Marsac is as forward on the field as -on the stairs.' - -I bowed my acknowledgments. - -'This fellow,' I said, 'is he much hurt?' - -'Tut, tut! I thought I had saved the marshal all trouble, M. -Francois replied. 'Is he not dead, Gil?' - -The poor wretch made answer for himself, crying out piteously, -and in a choking voice, for a priest to shrive him. At that -moment Simon Fleix returned with our torch, which he had lighted -at the nearest cross-streets, where there was a brazier, and we -saw by this light that the man was coughing up blood, and might -live perhaps half an hour. - -'Mordieu! That comes of thrusting too high!' M. Francois -muttered, regretfully. An inch lower, and there would have been -none of this trouble! I suppose somebody must fetch one. Gil,' -he continued, 'run, man, to the sacristy in the Rue St. Denys, -and get a Father. Or--stay! Help to lift him under the lee of -the wall there. The wind cuts like a knife here.' - -The street being on the slope of the hill, the lower part of the -house nearest us stood a few feet from the ground, on wooden -piles, and the space underneath it, being enclosed at the back -and sides, was used as a cart-house. The servants moved the -dying man into this rude shelter, and I accompanied them, being -unwilling to leave the young gentleman alone. Not wishing, -however, to seem to interfere, I walked to the farther end, and -sat down on the shaft of a cart, whence I idly admired the -strange aspect of the group I had left, as the glare of the torch -brought now one and now another into prominence, and sometimes -shone on M. Francois' jewelled fingers toying with his tiny -moustache, and sometimes on the writhing features of the man at -his feet. - -On a sudden, and before Gil had started on his errand, I saw -there was a priest among them. I had not seen him enter, nor had -I any idea whence he came. My first impression was only that -here was a priest, and that he was looking at me--not at the man -craving his assistance on the floor, or at those who stood round -him, but at me, who sat away in the shadow beyond the ring of -light! - -This was surprising; but a second glance explained it, for then I -saw that he was the Jacobin monk who had haunted my mother's -dying hours. And, amazed as much at this strange RENCONTRE as at -the man's boldness, I sprang up and strode forwards, forgetting, -in an impulse of righteous anger, the office he came to do. And -this the more as his face, still turned to me, seemed instinct to -my eyes with triumphant malice. As I moved towards him, however, -with a fierce exclamation on my lips, he suddenly dropped his -eyes and knelt. Immediately M. Francois cried 'Hush!' and the -men turned to me with scandalised faces. I fell back. Yet even -then, whispering on his knees by the dying man, the knave was -thinking, I felt sure, of me, glorying at once in his immunity -and the power it gave him to tantalise me without fear. - -I determined, whatever the result, to intercept him when all was -over; and on the man dying a few minutes later, I walked -resolutely to the open side of the shed, thinking it likely he -might try to slip away as mysteriously as he had come. He stood -a moment speaking to M. Francois, however, and then, accompanied -by him, advanced boldly to meet me, a lean smile on his face. - -'Father Antoine,' M. d'Agen said politely,' tells me that he -knows you, M. de Marsac, and desires to speak to you, MAL-A- -PROPOS as is the occasion.' - -'And I to him,' I answered, trembling with rage, and only -restraining by an effort the impulse which would have had me dash -my hand in the priest's pale, smirking face. 'I have waited long -for this moment,' I continued, eyeing him steadily, as M. -Francois withdrew out of hearing, 'and had you tried to avoid me, -I would have dragged you back, though all your tribe were here to -protect you.' - -His presence so maddened me that I scarcely knew what I said. I -felt my breath come quickly, I felt the blood surge to my head, -and it was with difficulty I restrained myself when he answered -with well-affected sanctity, 'Like mother, like son, I fear, sir. -Huguenots both.' - -I choked with rage. What!' I said, 'you dare to threaten me as -you threatened my mother? Fool! know that only to-day for the -purpose of discovering and punishing you I took the rooms in -which my mother died.' - -'I know it,' he answered quietly. And then in a second, as by -magic, he altered his demeanour completely, raising his head and -looking me in the face. 'That, and so much besides, I know,' he -continued, giving me, to my astonishment, frown for frown, 'that -if you will listen to me for a moment, M. de Marsac, and listen -quietly, I will convince you that the folly is not on my side.' - -Amazed at his new manner, in which there was none of the madness -that had marked him at our first meeting, but a strange air of -authority, unlike anything I had associated with him before, I -signed to him to proceed. - -'You think that I am in your power?' he said, smiling. - -'I think,' I retorted swiftly, 'that, escaping me now, you will -have at your heels henceforth a worse enemy than even your own -sins.' - -'Just so,' he answered, nodding. 'Well, I am going to show you -that the reverse is the case; and that you are as completely in -my hands, to spare or to break, as this straw. In the first -place, you are here in Blois, a Huguenot!' - -'Chut!' I exclaimed contemptuously, affecting a confidence I was -far from feeling. 'A little while back that might have availed -you. But we are in Blois, not Paris. It is not far to the -Loire, and you have to deal with a man now, not with a woman. It -is you who have cause to tremble, not I.' - -'You think to be protected,' he answered with a sour smile, 'even -on this side of the Loire, I see. But one word to the Pope's -Legate, or to the Duke of Nevers, and you would see the inside of -a dungeon, if not worse. For the king--' - -'King or no king!' I answered, interrupting him with more -assurance than I felt, seeing that I remembered only too well -Henry's remark that Rosny must not look to him for protection, 'I -fear you not a whit! And that reminds me. I have heard you talk -treason--rank, black treason, priest, as ever sent man to rope, -and I will give you up. By heaven I will!' I cried, my rage -increasing, as I discerned, more and more clearly, the dangerous -hold he had over me. 'You have threatened me! One word, and I -will send you to the gallows!' - -'Sh!' he answered, indicating M. Francois by, a gesture of the -hand. 'For your own sake, not mine. This is fine talking, but -you have not yet heard all I know. Would you like to hear how -you have spent the last month? Two days after Christmas, M. de -Marsac, you left Chize with a young lady--I can give you her -name, if you please. Four days afterwards you reached Blois, and -took her to your mother's lodging. Next morning she left you for -M. de Bruhl. Two days later you tracked her to a house in the -Ruelle d'Arcy, and freed her, but lost her in the moment of -victory. Then you stayed in Blois until your mother's death, -going a day or two later to M. de Rosny's house by Mantes, where -mademoiselle still is. Yesterday you arrived in Blois with M. de -Rosny ; you went to his lodging; you--' - -'Proceed, I muttered, leaning forward. Under cover of my cloak I -drew my dagger half-way from its sheath. 'Proceed, sir, I pray,' -I repeated with dry lips. - -'You slept there,' he continued, holding his ground, but -shuddering slightly, either from cold or because he perceived my -movement and read my design in my eyes. - -'This morning you remained here in attendance on M. de -Rambouillet.' - -For the moment I breathed freely again, perceiving that though he -knew much, the one thing on which M. de Rosny's design turned had -escaped him. The secret interview with the king, which -compromised alike Henry himself and M. de Rambouillet, had -apparently passed unnoticed and unsuspected. With a sigh of -intense relief I slid back the dagger, which I had fully made up -my mind to use had he known all, and drew my cloak round me with -a shrug of feigned indifference. I sweated to think what he did -know, but our interview with the king having escaped him, I -breathed again. - -'Well, sir,' I said curtly, 'I have listened. And now, what is -the purpose of all this?' - -'My purpose?' he answered, his eyes glittering. 'To show you -that you are in my power. You are the agent of M. de Rosny. I, -the agent, however humble, of the Holy Catholic League. Of your -movements I know all. What do you know of mine?' - -'Knowledge,' I made grim answer, 'is not everything, sir priest.' - -'It is more than it was,' he said, smiling his thin-lipped smile. -'It is going to be more than it is. And I know much--about you, -M. de Marsac.' - -'You know too much!' I retorted, feeling his covert threats -close round me like the folds of some great serpent. 'But you -are imprudent, I think. Will you tell me what is to prevent me -striking you through where you stand, and ridding myself at a -blow of so much knowledge?' - -'The presence of three men, M. de Marsac,' he answered lightly, -waving his hand towards M. Francois and the others, 'every one of -whom would give you up to justice. You forget that you are north -of the Loire, and that priests are not to be massacred here with -impunity, as in your lawless south-country. However, enough. -The night is cold, and M. d'Agen grows suspicious as well as -impatient. We have, perhaps, spoken too long already. Permit me ---he bowed and drew back a step--'to resume this discussion to- -morrow.' - -Despite his politeness and the hollow civility with which he thus -sought; to close the interview, the light of triumph which shone -in his eyes, as the glare of the torch fell athwart them, no less -than the assured tone of his voice, told me clearly that he knew -his power. He seemed, indeed, transformed: no longer a -slinking, peaceful clerk, preying on a woman's fears, but a bold -and crafty schemer, skilled and unscrupulous, possessed of hidden -knowledge and hidden resources; the personification of evil -intellect. For a moment, knowing all I knew, and particularly -the responsibilities which lay before me, and the interests -committed to my hands, I quailed, confessing myself unequal to -him. I forgot the righteous vengeance I owed him; I cried out -helplessly against the ill-fortune which had brought him across -my path. I saw myself enmeshed and fettered beyond hope of -escape, and by an effort only controlled the despair I felt. - -'To-morrow?' I muttered hoarsely. 'At what time?' - -He shook his head with a cunning smile. 'A thousand thanks, but -I will settle that myself!' he answered. 'Au revoir!' and -uttering a word of leave-taking to M. Francois d'Agen, he blessed -the two servants, and went out into the night. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE OFFER OF THE LEAGUE. - -When the last sound of his footsteps died away, I awoke as from -an evil dream, and becoming conscious of the presence of M. -Francois and the servants, recollected mechanically that I owed -the former an apology for my discourtesy in keeping him standing -in the cold. I began to offer it; but my distress and confusion -of mind were such that in the middle of a set phrase I broke off, -and stood looking fixedly at him, my trouble so plain that he -asked me civilly if anything ailed me. - -'No,' I answered, turning from him impatiently; 'nothing, -nothing, sir. Or tell me,' I continued, with an abrupt change of -mind, 'who is that; who has just left us?' - -'Father Antoine, do you mean?' - -'Ay, Father Antoine, Father Judas, call him what you like,' I -rejoined bitterly. - -'Then if you leave the choice to me,' M. Francois answered with -grave politeness, 'I would rather call him something more -pleasant, M. de Marsac--James or John, let us say. For there is -little said here which does not come back to him. If walls have -ears, the walls of Blois are in his pay. But I thought you knew -him,' he continued. 'He is secretary, confidant, chaplain, what -you will, to Cardinal Retz, and one of those whom--in your ear-- -greater men court and more powerful men lean on. If I had to -choose between them, I would rather cross M. de Crillon.' - -'I am obliged to you,' I muttered, checked as much by his manner -as his words. - -'Not at all,' he answered more lightly. 'Any information I have -is at your disposal.' - -However, I saw the imprudence of venturing farther, and hastened -to take leave of him, persuading him to allow one of M. de -Rambouillet's servants to accompany him home. He said that he -should call on me in the morning; and forcing myself to answer -him in a suitable manner, I saw him depart one way, and myself, -accompanied by Simon Fleix, went off another. My feet were -frozen with long standing--I think the corpse we left was scarce -colder--but my head was hot with feverish doubts and fears. The -moon had sunk and the streets were dark. Our torch had burned -out, and we had no light. But where my followers saw only -blackness and vacancy, I saw an evil smile and a lean visage -fraught with menace and exultation. - -For the more closely I directed my mind to the position in which -I stood, the graver it seemed. Pitted against Bruhl alone, amid -strange surroundings and in an atmosphere of Court intrigue, I -had thought my task sufficiently difficult and the disadvantages -under which I laboured sufficiently serious before this -interview. Conscious of a certain rustiness and a distaste for -finesse, with resources so inferior to Bruhl's that even M. de -Rosny's liberality had not done much to make up the difference, I -had accepted the post offered me rather readily than sanguinely; -with joy, seeing that it held out the hope of high reward, but -with no certain expectation of success. Still, matched with a -man of violent and headstrong character, I had seen no reason to -despair; nor any why I might not arrange the secret meeting -between the king and mademoiselle with safety, and conduct to its -end an intrigue simple and unsuspected, and requiring for its -execution rather courage and caution than address or experience. - -Now, however, I found that Bruhl was not my only or my most -dangerous antagonist. Another was in the field--or, to speak -more correctly, was waiting outside the arena, ready to snatch -the prize when we should have disabled one another, From a dream -of Bruhl and myself as engaged in a competition for the king's -favour, wherein neither could expose the other nor appeal even in -the last resort to the joint-enemies of his Majesty and -ourselves, I awoke to a very different state of things; I awoke -to find those enemies the masters of the situation, possessed of -the clue to our plans, and permitting them only as long as they -seemed to threaten no serious peril to themselves. - -No discovery could be more mortifying or more fraught with -terror. The perspiration stood on my brow as I recalled the -warning which M. de Rosny had uttered against Cardinal Retz, or -noted down the various points of knowledge which were in Father -Antoine's possession. He knew every event of the last month, -with one exception, and could tell, I verily believed, how many -crowns I had in my pouch. Conceding this, and the secret sources -of information he must possess, what hope had I of keeping my -future movements from him? Mademoiselle's arrival would be known -to him before she had well passed the gates; nor was it likely, -or even possible, that I should again succeed in reaching the -king's presence untraced and unsuspected. In fine, I saw myself, -equally with Bruhl, a puppet in this man's hands, my goings out -and my comings in watched and reported to him, his mercy the only -bar between myself and destruction. At any moment I might be -arrested as a Huguenot, the enterprise in which I was engaged -ruined, and Mademoiselle de la Vire exposed to the violence of -Bruhl or the equally dangerous intrigues of the League. - -Under these circumstances I fancied sleep impossible; but habit -and weariness are strong persuaders, and when I reached my -lodging I slept long and soundly, as became a man who had looked -danger in the face more than once. The morning light too brought -an accession both of courage and hope. I reflected on the misery -of my condition at St. Jean d'Angely, without friends or -resources, and driven to herd with such a man as Fresnoy. And -telling myself that the gold crowns which M. de Rosny had -lavished upon me were not for nothing, nor the more precious -friendship with which he had honoured me a gift that called for -no return, I rose with new spirit and a countenance which threw -Simon Fleix who had seen me lie down the picture of despair-- -into the utmost astonishment. - -'You have had good dreams,' he said, eyeing me jealously and with -a disturbed air. - -'I had a very evil one last night,' I answered lightly, wondering -a little why he looked at me so, and why he seemed to resent my -return to hopefulness and courage. I might have followed this -train of thought further with advantage, since I possessed a clue -to his state of mind; but at that moment a summons at the door -called him away to it, and he presently ushered in M. d'Agen, -who, saluting me with punctilious politeness, had not said fifty -words before he introduced the subject of his toe--no longer, -however, in a hostile spirit, but as the happy medium which had -led him to recognise the worth and sterling qualities--so he was -pleased to say--of his preserver. - -I was delighted to find him in this frame of mind, and told him -frankly that the friendship with which his kinsman, M. de -Rambouillet, honoured me would prevent me giving him satisfaction -save in the last resort. He replied that the service I had done -him was such as to render this immaterial, unless I had myself -cause of offence; which I was forward to deny. - -We were paying one another compliments after this fashion, while -I regarded him with the interest which the middle-aged bestow on -the young and gallant in whom they see their own youth and hopes -mirrored, when the door was again opened, and after a moment's -pause admitted, equally, I think, to the disgust of M. Francois, -and myself, the form of Father Antoine. - -Seldom have two men more diverse stood, I believe, in a room -together; seldom has any greater contrast been presented to a -man's eyes than that opened to mine on this occasion. On the one -side the gay young spark, with his short cloak, his fine suit; of -black-and-silver, his trim limbs and jewelled hilt and chased -comfit-box; on the other, the tall, stooping monk, lean-jawed and -bright-eyed, whose gown hung about him in coarse, ungainly folds. -And M. Francois' sentiment on first seeing the other was -certainly dislike. Is spite of this, however, he bestowed a -greeting on the new-comer which evidenced a secret awe, and in -other ways showed so plain a desire to please, that I felt my -fears of the priest return in force. I reflected that the -talents which in such a garb could win the respect of M. Francois -d'Agen--a brilliant star among the younger courtiers, and one of -a class much given to thinking scorn of their fathers' roughness ---must be both great and formidable; and, so considering, I -received the monk with a distant courtesy which I had once little -thought to extend to him. I put aside for the moment the private -grudge I bore him with so much justice, and remembered only the -burden which lay on me in my contest with him. - -I conjectured without difficulty that he chose to come at this -time, when M. Francois was with me, out of a cunning regard to -his own safety; and I was not surprised when M. Francois, -beginning to make his adieux, Father Antoine begged him to wait -below, adding that he had something of importance to communicate. -He advanced his request in terms of politeness bordering on -humility; but I could clearly see that, in assenting to it, M. -d'Agen bowed to a will stronger than his own, and would, had he -dared to follow his own bent, have given a very different answer. -As it was he retired--nominally to give an order to his lackey-- -with a species of impatient self-restraint which it was not -difficult to construe. - -Left alone with me, and assured that we had no listeners, the -monk was not slow in coming to the point. - -'You have thought over what I told you last night?' he said -brusquely, dropping in a moment the suave manner which he had -maintained in M. Francois's presence. - -I replied coldly that I had. - -'And you understand the position?' he continued quickly, looking -at me from under his brows as he stood before me, with one -clenched fist on the table. 'Or shall I tell you more? Shall I -tell you how poor and despised you were some weeks ago, M. de -Marsac--you who now go in velvet, and have three men at your -back? Or whose gold it is has brought you here, and made you, -this? Chut! Do not let us trifle. You are here as the secret -agent of the King of Navarre. It is my business to learn your -plans and his intentions, and I propose to do so.' - -'Well?' I said. - -'I am prepared to buy them,' he answered; and his eyes sparkled -as he spoke, with a greed which set me yet more on my guard. - -'For whom?' I asked. Having made up my mind that I must use the -same weapons as my adversary, I reflected that to express -indignation, such as might become a young man new to the world, -could, help me not a whit. 'For whom?' I repeated, seeing that -he hesitated. - -'That is my business,' he replied slowly. - -'You want to know too much and tell too little,' I retorted, -yawning. - -'And you are playing with me,' he cried, looking at me suddenly, -with so piercing a gaze and so dark a countenance that I checked -a shudder with difficulty. 'So much the worse for you, so much -the worse for you!' he continued fiercely. 'I am here to buy -the information you hold, but if you will not sell, there is -another way. At an hour's notice I can ruin your plans, and send -you to a dungeon! You are like a fish caught in a net not yet -drawn. It thrusts its nose this way and that, and touches the -mesh, but is slow to take the alarm until the net is drawn--and -then it is too late. So it is with you, and so it is,' he added, -falling into the ecstatic mood which marked him at times, and -left me in doubt whether he were all knave or in part enthusiast, -'with all those who set themselves against St. Peter and his -Church!' - -'I have heard you say much the same of the King of France,' I -said derisively. - -'You trust in him?' he retorted, his eyes gleaming. 'You have -been up there, and seen his crowded chamber, and counted his -forty-five gentlemen and his grey-coated Swiss? I tell you the -splendour you saw was a dream, and will vanish as a dream. The -man's strength and his glory shall go from him, and that soon. -Have you no eyes to see that he is beside the question? There -are but two powers in France--the Holy Union, which still -prevails, and the accursed Huguenot; and between them is the -battle.' - -'Now you are telling me more,' I said. - -He grew sober in a moment, looking at me with a vicious anger -hard to describe. - -'Tut tut,' he said, showing his yellow teeth, 'the dead tell no -tales. And for Henry of Valois, he so loves a monk that you -might better accuse his mistress. But for you, I have only to -cry "Ho! a Huguenot and a spy!" and though he loved you more -than he loved Quelus or Maugiron, he dare not stretch out a -finger to save you!' - -I knew that he spoke the truth, and with difficulty maintained -the air of indifference with which I had entered on the -interview. - -'But what if I leave Blois?' I ventured, merely to see what he -would say. - -He laughed. 'You cannot,' he answered. 'The net is round you, -M. de Marsac, and there are those at every gate who know you and -have their instructions. I can destroy you, but I would fain -have your information, and for that I will pay you five hundred -crowns and let you go.' - -'To fall into the hands of the King of Navarre?' - -'He will disown you, in any case,' he answered eagerly. 'He had -that in his mind, my friend, when he selected an agent so -obscure. He will disown you. Ah, mon Dieu! had I been an hour -quicker I had caught Rosny--Rosny himself!' - -'There is one thing lacking still,' I replied. 'How am I to be -sure that, when I have told you what I know, you will pay me the -money or let me go?' - -'I will swear to it!' he answered earnestly, deceived into -thinking I was about to surrender. 'I will give you my oath, M. -de Marsac!' - -'I would as soon have your shoe-lace!' I exclaimed, the -indignation I could not entirely repress finding vent in that -phrase. 'A Churchman's vow is worth a candle--or a candle and a -half, is it?' I continued ironically. 'I must have some -security a great deal more substantial than that, father.' - -'What?' he asked, looking at me gloomily. - -Seeing an opening, I cudgelled my brains to think of any -condition which, being fulfilled, might turn the table on him and -place him in my power. But his position was so strong, or my -wits so weak, that nothing occurred to me at the time, and I sat -looking at, him, my mind gradually passing from the possibility -of escape to the actual danger in which I stood, and which -encompassed also Simon Fleix, and, in a degree, doubtless, M. de -Rambouillet. In four or five days, too, Mademoiselle de la Vire -would arrive. I wondered if I could send any warning to her; and -then, again, I doubted the wisdom of interfering with M. de -Rosny's plans, the more as Maignan, who had gone to fetch -mademoiselle, was of a kind to disregard any orders save his -master's. - -'Well!' said the monk, impatiently recalling me to myself, 'what -security do you want?' - -'I am not quite sure at this moment,' I made answer slowly. 'I -am in a difficult position. I must have some time to consider.' - -'And to rid yourself of me, if it be possible,' he said with -irony. 'I quite understand. But I warn you that you are -watched; and that wherever you go and whatever you do, eyes which -are mine are upon you.' - -'I, too, understand,' I said coolly. - -He stood awhile uncertain, regarding me with mingled doubt and -malevolence, tortured on the one hand by fear of losing the prize -if he granted delay, on the other of failing as utterly if he -exerted his power and did not succeed in subduing my resolution. -I watched him, too, and gauging his eagerness and the value of -the stake for which he was striving by the strength of his -emotions, drew small comfort from the sight. More than once it -had occurred to me, and now it occurred to me again, to extricate -myself by a blow. But a natural reluctance to strike an unarmed -man, however vile and knavish, and the belief that he had not -trusted himself in my power without taking the fullest -precautions, withheld me. When he grudgingly, and with many dark -threats, proposed to wait three days--and not an hour more--for -my answer, I accepted; for I saw no other alternative open. And -on these terms, but not without some short discussion, we parted, -and I heard his stealthy footstep go sneaking down the stairs. - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -MEN CALL IT CHANCE. - -If I were telling more than the truth, or had it in my mind to -embellish my adventures, I could, doubtless, by the exercise of a -little ingenuity make it appear that I owed my escape from Father -Antoine's meshes to my own craft; and tell, in fine, as pretty a -story of plots and counterplots as M. de Brantome has ever woven. -Having no desire, however, to magnify myself and, at this time of -day, scarcely any reason, I am fain to confess that the reverse -was the case; and that while no man ever did less to free himself -than I did, my adversary retained his grasp to the end, and had -surely, but for a strange interposition, effected my ruin. How -relief came, and from what quarter, I might defy the most -ingenious person, after reading my memoirs to this point, to say; -and this not so much by reason of any subtle device, as because -the hand of Providence was for once directly manifest. - -The three days of grace which the priest had granted I passed in -anxious but futile search for some means of escape, every plan I -conceived dying stillborn, and not the least of my miseries lying -in the fact that I could discern no better course than still to -sit and think, and seemed doomed to perpetual inaction. M. de -Rambouillet being a strict Catholic, though in all other respects -a patriotic man, I knew better than to have recourse to him; and -the priest's influence over M. d'Agen I had myself witnessed. -For similar reasons I rejected the idea of applying to the king; -and this exhausting the list of those on whom I had any claim, I -found myself thrown on my own resources, which seemed limited--my -wits failing me at this pinch--to my sword and Simon Fleix. - -Assured that I must break out of Blois if I would save not myself -only, but others more precious because entrusted to my charge, I -thought it no disgrace to appeal to Simon; describing in a lively -fashion the danger which threatened us, and inciting the lad by -every argument which I thought likely to have weight with him to -devise some way of escape. - -Now is the time, my friend,' I said, 'to show your wits, and -prove that M. de Rosny, who said you had a cunning above the -ordinary, was right. If your brain can ever save your head, now -is the time! For I tell you plainly, if you cannot find some way -to outmanoeuvre this villain before to-morrow, I am spent. You -can judge for yourself what chance you will have of going free.' - -I paused at that, waiting for him to make some suggestion. To my -chagrin he remained silent, leaning his head on his hand, and -studying the table with his eyes in a sullen fashion; so that I -began to regret the condescension I had evinced in letting him be -seated, and found it necessary to remind him that he had taken -service with me, and must do my bidding. - -'Well,' he said morosely, and without looking up, 'I am ready to -do it. But I do not like priests, and this one least of all. I -know him, and I will not meddle with him.' - -'You will not meddle with him?' I cried, almost beside myself -with dismay. - -'No, I won't,' he replied, retaining his listless attitude. 'I -know him, and I am afraid of him. I am no match for him.' - -'Then M. de Rosny was wrong, was he?' I said, giving way to my -anger. - -'If it please you,' he answered pertly. - -This was too much for me. My riding-switch lay handy, and I -snatched it up. Before he knew what I would be at, I fell upon -him, and gave him such a sound wholesome drubbing as speedily -brought him to his senses. When he cried for mercy--which he did -not for a good space, being still possessed by the peevish devil -which had ridden him ever since his departure from Rosny--I put -it to him again whether M. de Rosny was not right. When he at -last admitted this, but not till then, I threw the whip away and -let him go, but did not cease to reproach him as he deserved. - -'Did you think,' I said, 'that I was going to be ruined because -you would not use your lazy brains? That I was going to sit -still, and let you sulk, while mademoiselle walked blindfold into -the toils? Not at all, my friend!' - -'Mademoiselle!' he exclaimed, looking at me with a, sudden -change of countenance, end ceasing to rub himself and scowl, as -he had been doing. 'She is not here, and is in no danger.' - -'She will be here to-morrow, or the next day,' I said. - -You did not tell me that!' he replied, his eyes glittering. -'Does Father Antoine know it?' - -'He will know it the moment she enters the town,' I answered. - -Noting the change which the introduction of mademoiselle's name -into the affair had wrought in him, I felt something like -humiliation. But at the moment I had no choice; it was my -business to use such instruments as came to my hand, and not, -mademoiselle's safety being at stake, to pick and choose too -nicely. In a few minutes our positions were reversed. The lad -had grown as hot as I cold, as keenly excited as I critical. -When he presently came to a stand in front of me, I saw a strange -likeness between his face and the priest's; nor was I astonished -when he presently made just such a proposal as I should have -expected from Father Antoine himself. - -'There is only one thing for it,' he muttered, trembling all -over. 'He must be got rid of!' - -'Fine talking!' I said, contemptuously. 'If he were a soldier -he might be brought to it. But he is a priest, my friend, and -does not fight.' - -'Fight? Who wants him to fight?' the lad answered, his face -dark, his hands moving restlessly. 'It is the easier done. A -blow in the back, and he will trouble us no more.' - -'Who is to strike it?' I asked drily. - -Simon trembled and hesitated; but presently, heaving a deep sigh, -he said, 'I will.' - -'It might not be difficult,' I muttered, thinking it over. - -'It would be easy,' he answered under his breath. His eyes -shone, his lips were white, and his long dark hair hung wet over -his forehead. - -I reflected, and the longer I did so the more feasible seemed the -suggestion. A single word, and I might sweep from my path the -man whose existence threatened mine; who would not meet me -fairly, but, working against me darkly and treacherously, -deserved no better treatment at my hands than that which a -detected spy receives. He had wronged my mother; he would fain -destroy my friends! - -And, doubtless, I shall be blamed by some and ridiculed by more -for indulging in scruples at such a time. But I have all my life -long been prejudiced against that form of underhand violence -which I have heard old men contend came into fashion in our -country in modern times, and which certainly seems to be alien -from the French character. Without judging others too harshly, -or saying that the poniard is never excusable--for then might -some wrongs done to women and the helpless go without remedy--I -have set my face against its use as unworthy of a soldier. At -the time, moreover, of which I am now writing the extent to which -our enemies had lately resorted to it tended to fix this feeling -with peculiar firmness in my mind; and, but for the very -desperate dilemma in which I stood at the moment--and not I -alone--I do not think that I should have entertained Simon's -proposal for a minute. - -As it was, I presently answered him in a way which left him in no -doubt of my sentiments. 'Simon, my friend,' I said--and I -remember I was a little moved--'you have something still to -learn, both as a soldier and a Huguenot. Neither the one nor the -other strikes at the back.' - -'But if he will not fight?' the lad retorted rebelliously. -'What then?' - -It was so clear that our adversary gained an unfair advantage in -this way that I could not answer the question. I let it pass, -therefore, and merely repeating my former injunction, bade Simon -think out another way. - -He promised reluctantly to do so, and, after spending some -moments in thought, went out to learn whether the house was being -watched. - -When he returned, his countenance wore so new an expression that -I saw at once that something had happened. He did not meet my -eye, however, and did not explain, but made as if he would go out -again, with something of confusion in his manner. Before finally -disappearing, however, he seemed to change his mind once more; -for, marching up to me where I stood eyeing him with the utmost -astonishment, he stopped before me, and suddenly drawing out his -hand, thrust something into mine. - -'What is it, man?' I said mechanically. - -'Look!' he answered rudely, breaking silence for the first time. -'You should know. Why ask me? What have I to do with it?' - -I looked then, and saw that he had given me a knot of velvet -precisely similar is shape, size, and material to that well- -remembered one which had aided me so opportunely in my search for -mademoiselle. This differed from that a little in colour, but in -nothing else, the fashion of the bow being the same, and one -lappet hearing the initials 'C. d. l. V.,' while the other had -the words, 'A moi.' I gazed at it in wonder. 'But, Simon,' I -said, 'what does it mean? Where did you get it?' - -'Where should I get it?' he answered jealously. Then, seeming -to recollect himself, he changed his tone. 'A woman gave it to -me in the street,' he said. - -I asked him what woman. - -'How should I know?' he answered, his eyes gleaming with anger. -'It was a woman in a mask.' - -'Was it Fanchette?' I said sternly. - -'It might have been. I do not know,' he responded. - -I concluded at first that mademoiselle and her escort had arrived -in the outskirts of the city, and that Maignan had justified his -reputation for discretion by sending in to learn from me whether -the way was clear before he entered. In this notion I was partly -confirmed and partly shaken by the accompanying message; which -Simon, from whom every scrap of information had to be dragged as -blood from a stone, presently delivered. - -'You are to meet the sender half an hour after sunset to-morrow -evening,' he said, 'on the Parvis at the north-east corner of the -cathedral.' - -'To-morrow evening?' - -'Yes, when else?' the lad answered ungraciously. 'I said to- -morrow evening.' - -I thought this strange. I could understand why Maignan should -prefer to keep his charge outside the walls until he heard from -me, but not why he should postpone a meeting so long. The -message, too, seemed unnecessarily meagre, and I began to think -Simon was still withholding something. - -'Was that all?' I asked him. - -'Yes, all,' he answered, 'except--' - -'Except what?' I said sternly. - -'Except that the woman showed me the gold token Mademoiselle de -la Vire used to carry,' he answered reluctantly, 'and said, if -you wanted further assurance that would satisfy you.' - -'Did you see the coin?' I cried eagerly. - -'To be sure,' he answered. - -'Then, mon dieu!' I retorted, 'either you are deceiving me, or -the woman you saw deceived you. For mademoiselle has not got the -token! I have it here, in my possession! Now, do you still say -yon saw it, man?' - -'I saw one like it,' he answered, trembling, his face damp. -'That I will swear. And the woman told me what I have told you. -And no more.' - -'Then it is clear,' I answered, 'that mademoiselle has nothing to -do with this, and is doubtless many a league away. This is one -of M. de Bruhl's tricks. Fresnoy gave him the token he stole -from me. And I told him the story of the velvet knot myself. -This is a trap; and had I fallen into it, and gone to the Parvis -to-morrow evening, I had never kept another assignation, my lad.' - -Simon looked thoughtful. Presently he said, with a crestfallen -air, 'You were to go alone. The woman said that.' - -Though I knew well why he had suppressed this item, I forbore to -blame him. 'What was the woman like?' I said. - -'She had very much of Franchette's figure,' he answered. He -could not go beyond that. Blinded by the idea that the woman was -mademoiselle's attendant, and no one else, he had taken little -heed of her, and could not even say for certain that she was not -a man in woman's clothes. - -I thought the matter over and discussed it with him; and was -heartily minded to punish M. de Bruhl, if I could discover a way -of turning his treacherous plot against himself. But the lack of -any precise knowledge of his plans prevented me stirring in the -matter; the more as I felt no certainty that I should be master -of my actions when the time came. - -Strange to say the discovery of this movement on the part of -Bruhl, who had sedulously kept himself in the background since -the scene in the king's presence, far from increasing my -anxieties, had the effect of administering a fillip to my -spirits; which the cold and unyielding pressure of the Jacobin -had reduced to a low point. Here was something I could -understand, resist, and guard against. The feeling that I had -once more to do with a man of like aims and passions with myself -quickly restored me to the use of my faculties; as I have heard -that a swordsman opposed to the powers of evil regains his vigour -on finding himself engaged with a mortal foe. Though I knew that -the hours of grace were fast running to a close, and that on the -morrow the priest would call for an answer, I experienced that -evening an, unreasonable lightness and cheerfulness. I retired -to rest with confidence, and slept is comfort, supported in part, -perhaps, by the assurance that in that room where my mother died -her persecutor could have no power to harm me. - -Upon Simon Fleix, on the other hand, the discovery that Bruhl was -moving, and that consequently peril threatened us from a new -quarter, had a different effect. He fell into a state of extreme -excitement, and spent the evening and a great part of the night -in walking restlessly up and down the room, wrestling with the -fears and anxieties which beset us, and now talking fast to -himself, now biting his nails in an agony of impatience. In vain -I adjured him not to meet troubles halfway; or, pointing to the -pallet which he occupied at the foot of my couch, bade him, if he -could not devise a way of escape, at least to let the matter rest -until morning. He had no power to obey, but, tortured by the -vivid anticipations which it was his nature to entertain, he -continued to ramble to and fro in a fever of the nerves, and had -no sooner lain down than be was up again. Remembering, however, -how well he had borne himself on the night of mademoiselle's -escape from Blois, I refrained from calling him a coward; and -contented myself instead with the reflection that nothing sits -worse on a fighting-man than too much knowledge--except, perhaps, -a lively imagination. - -I thought it possible that mademoiselle might arrive next day -before Father Antoine called to receive his answer. In this -event I hoped to have the support of Maignan's experience. But -the party did not arrive. I had to rely on myself and my own -resources, and, this being so, determined to refuse the priest's -offer, but in all other things to be guided by circumstances. - -About noon he came, attended, as was his practice, by two -friends, whom he left outside. He looked paler and more shadowy -than before, I thought, his hands thinner, and his cheeks more -transparent. I could draw no good augury, however, from these, -signs of frailty, for the brightness of his eyes and the unusual -elation of his manner told plainly of a spirit assured of the -mastery. He entered the room with an air of confidence, and -addressed me in a tone of patronage which left me in no doubt of -his intentions; the frankness with which he now laid bare his -plans going far to prove that already he considered me no better -than his tool. - -I did not at once undeceive him, but allowed him to proceed, and -even to bring out the five hundred crowns which he had promised -me, and the sight of which he doubtless supposed would clench the -matter. - -Seeing this he became still less reticent, and spoke so largely -that I presently felt myself impelled to ask him if he would -answer a question. - -'That is as may be, M. de Marsac,' he answered lightly. 'You may -ask it.' - -'You hint at great schemes which you have in hand, father,' I -said. 'You speak of France and Spain and Navarre, and kings and -Leagues and cardinals! You talk of secret strings, and would -have me believe that if I comply with your wishes I shall find -you as powerful a patron as M. de Rosny. But--one moment, if you -please,' I continued hastily, seeing that he was about to -interrupt me with such eager assurances as I had already heard; -'tell me this. With so many irons in the fire, why did you -interfere with one old gentlewoman--for the sake of a few -crowns?" - -'I will tell you even that,' he answered, his face flushing at my -tone. 'Have you ever heard of an elephant? Yes. Well, it has a -trunk, you know, with which it can either drag an oak from the -earth or lift a groat from the ground. It is so with me. But -again you ask,' he continued with an airy grimace, 'why I wanted -a few crowns. Enough that I did. There are going to be two -things in the world, and two only, M. de Marsac: brains and -money. The former I have, and had: the latter I needed--and -took.' - -'Money and brains?' I said, looking at him thoughtfully. - -'Yes,' he answered, his eyes sparkling, his thin nostrils -beginning to dilate. 'Give me these two, and I will rule -France!' - -'You will rule France?' I exclaimed, amazed beyond measure by -his audacity. 'You, man?' - -'Yes, I,' he answered, with abominable coolness. 'I, priest, -monk, Churchman, clerk. You look surprised, but mark you, sir, -there is a change going on. Our time is coming, and yours is -going. What hampers our lord the king and shuts him up in Blois, -while rebellions stalk through France? Lack of men? No; but -lack of money. Who can get the money for him--you the soldier, -or I the clerk? A thousand times, I! Therefore, my time is -coming, and before you die you will see a priest rule France.' - -'God forbid it should be you,' I answered scornfully. - -'As you please,' he answered, shrugging his shoulders, and -assuming in a breath a mask of humility which sat as ill on his -monstrous conceit as ever nun's veil on a trooper. 'Yet it may -even be I; by the favour of the Holy Catholic Church, whose -humble minister I am.' - -I sprang up with a great oath at that, having no stomach for more -of the strange transformations, in which this man delighted, and -whereof the last had ever the air of being the most hateful. -'You villain!' I cried, twisting my moustaches, a habit I have -when enraged. 'And so you would make me a stepping-stone to your -greatness. You would bribe me--a soldier and a gentleman. Go, -before I do you a mischief. That is all I have to say to you. -Go! You have your answer. I will tell you nothing--not a jot or -a tittle. Begone from my room!' - -He fell back a step in his surprise, and stood against the table -biting his nails and scowling at me, fear and chagrin contending -with half a dozen devils for the possession of his face. 'So you -have been deceiving me,' he said slowly, and at last. - -'I have let you deceive yourself' I answered, looking at him with -scorn, but with little of the fear with which he had for a while -inspired me. 'Begone, and do your worst.' - -'You know what you are doing,' he said. 'I have that will hang -you, M. de Marsac--or worse.' - -'Go!' I cried. - -'You have thought of your friends,' he continued mockingly. - -'Go!' I said. - -'Of Mademoiselle de la Vire, if by any chance she fall into my -hands? It will not be hanging for her. You remember the two -Foucauds?'--and he laughed. - -The vile threat, which I knew he had used to my mother, so worked -upon me that I strode forward unable to control myself longer. -In another moment I had certainly taken him by the throat and -squeezed the life out of his miserable carcase, had not -Providence in its goodness intervened to save me. The door, on -which he had already laid his hand in terror, opened suddenly. -It admitted Simon, who, closing it; behind him, stood looking -from one to the other of us in nervous doubt; divided between -that respect for the priest which a training at the Sorbonne had -instilled into him, and the rage which despair arouses in the -weakest. - -His presence, while it checked me in my purpose, seemed to give -Father Antoine courage, for the priest stood his ground, and even -turned to me a second time, his face dark with spite and -disappointment. 'Good,' he said hoarsely. 'Destroy yourself if -you will! I advise you to bar your door, for in an hour the -guards will be here to fetch you to the question.' - -Simon cried out at the threat, so that I turned and looked at the -lad. His knees were shaking, his hair stood on end. - -The priest saw his terror and his own opportunity. 'Ay, in an -hour,' he continued slowly, looking at him with cruel eyes. 'In -an hour, lad! You must be fond of pain to court it, and out of -humour with life to throw it away. Or stay,' he continued -abruptly, after considering Simon's narrowly for a moment, and -doubtless deducing from it a last hope, 'I will be merciful. I -will give you one more chance.' - -'And yourself?' I said with a sneer. - -'As you please,' he answered, declining to be diverted from the -trembling lad, whom his gaze seemed to fascinate. 'I will give -you until half an hour after sunset this evening to reconsider -the matter. If you make up your minds to accept my terms, meet -me then. I leave to-night for Paris, and I will give you until -the last moment. But,' he continued grimly, 'if you do not meet -me, or, meeting me, remain obstinate--God do so to me, and more -also, if you see the sun rise thrice.' - -Some impulse, I know not what, seeing that I had no thought of -accepting his terms or meeting him, led me to ask briefly, -'Where?' - -'On the Parvis of the Cathedral,' he answered after a moment's -calculation. 'At the north-east corner, half an hour after -sunset. It is a quiet spot.' - -Simon uttered a stifled exclamation. And then for a moment there -was silence in the room, while the lad breathed hard and -irregularly, and I stood rooted to the spot, looking so long and -so strangely at the priest that Father Antoine laid his hand -again on the door and glanced uneasily behind him. Nor was he -content until he had hit on, as he fancied, the cause of my -strange regard. - -'Ha!' he said, his thin lip curling in conceit at his -astuteness, 'I understand you think to kill me to-night? Let me -tell you, this house is watched. If you leave here to meet me -with any companion--unless it be M. d'Agen, whom I can trust, I -shall be warned, and be gone before you reach the rendezvous. -And gone, mind you,' he added, with a grim smile, 'to sign your -death-warrant.' - -He went out with that, closing the door behind him; and we heard -his step go softly down the staircase. I gazed at Simon, and he -at me, with all the astonishment and awe which it was natural we -should feel in presence of so remarkable a coincidence. - -For by a marvel the priest had named the same spot and the same -time as the sender of the velvet knot! - -'He will go,' Simon said, his face flushed and his voice -trembling, 'and they will go.' - -'And in the dark they will not know him,' I muttered. 'He is -about my height. They will take him for me!' - -'And kill him!' Simon cried hysterically. 'They will kill him! -He goes to his death, monsieur. It is the finger of God.' - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE KING'S FACE. - -It seemed so necessary to bring home the crime to Bruhl should -the priest really perish in the trap laid for me, that I came -near to falling into one of those mistakes to which men of action -are prone. For my first impulse was to follow the priest to the -Parvis, closely enough, if possible, to detect the assassins in -the act, and with sufficient force, if I could muster it, to -arrest them. The credit of dissuading me from this course lies -with Simon, who pointed out its dangers in so convincing a manner -that I was brought with little difficulty to relinquish it. - -Instead, acting on his advice, I sent him to M. d'Agen's lodging, -to beg that young gentleman to call upon me before evening. -After searching the lodging and other places in vain, Simon found -M. d'Agen in the tennis-court at the Castle, and, inventing a -crafty excuse, brought him to my lodging a full hour before the -time. - -My visitor was naturally surprised to find that I had nothing -particular to say to him. I dared not tell him what occupied my -thoughts, and for the rest invention failed me. But his gaiety -and those pretty affectations on which he spent an infinity of -pains, for the purpose, apparently, of hiding the sterling worth -of a character deficient neither in courage nor backbone, were -united to much good nature. Believing at last that I had sent -for him in a fit of the vapours, he devoted himself to amusing me -and abusing Bruhl--a very favourite pastime with him. And in -this way he made out a call of two hours. - -I had not long to wait for proof of Simon's wisdom in taking this -precaution. We thought it prudent to keep within doors after our -guest's departure, and so passed the night in ignorance whether -anything had happened or not. But about seven next morning one -of the Marquis's servants, despatched by M. d'Agen, burst in upon -us with the news--which was no news from the moment his hurried -footstep sounded on the stairs that Father Antoine had been set -upon and killed the previous evening! - -I heard this confirmation of my hopes with grave thankfulness; -Simon with so much emotion that when the messenger was gone he -sat down on a stool and began to sob and tremble as if he had -lost his mother, instead of a mortal foe. I took advantage of -the occasion to read him a sermon on the end of crooked courses; -nor could I myself recall without a shudder the man's last words -to me; or the lawless and evil designs in which he had rejoiced, -while standing on the very brink of the pit which was to swallow -up both him and them in everlasting darkness. - -Naturally, the uppermost feeling in my mind was relief. I was -free once more. In all probability the priest had kept his -knowledge to himself, and without him his agents would be -powerless. Simon, it is true, heard that the town was much -excited by the event; and that many attributed it to the -Huguenots. But we did not suffer ourselves to be depressed by -this, nor had I any foreboding until the sound of a second -hurried footstep mounting the stairs reached our ears. - -I knew the step in a moment for M. d'Agen's, and something -ominous in its ring brought me to my feet before he opened the -door. Significant as was his first hasty look round the room, he -recovered at sight of me all his habitual SANG-FROID. He saluted -me, and spoke coolly, though rapidly. But he panted, and I -noticed in a moment that he had lost his lisp. - -'I am happy in finding you,' he said, closing the door carefully -behind him, 'for I am the bearer of ill news, and there is not a -moment to be lost. The king has signed an order for your instant -consignment to prison, M. de Marsac, and, once there, it is -difficult to say what may not happen.' - -'My consignment?' I exclaimed. I may be pardoned if the news -for a moment found me unprepared. - -'Yes,' he replied quickly. 'The king has signed it at the -instance of Marshal Retz.' - -'But for what?' I cried in amazement. - -'The murder of Father Antoine. You will pardon me,' he continued -urgently, 'but this is no time for words. The Provost-Marshal is -even now on his way to arrest you. Your only hope is to evade -him, and gain an audience of the king. I have persuaded my uncle -to go with you, and he is waiting at his lodgings. There is not -a moment to be lost, however, if you would reach the king's -presence before you are arrested.' - -'But I am innocent!' I cried. - -'I know it,' M. d'Agen answered, 'and can prove it. But if you -cannot get speech of the king innocence will avail you nothing. -You have powerful enemies. Come without more ado, M. de Marsac, -I pray,' he added. - -His manner, even more than his words, impressed me with a sense -of urgency; and postponing for a time my own judgment, I -hurriedly thanked him for his friendly offices. Snatching up my -sword, which lay on a chair, I buckled it on; for Simon's fingers -trembled so violently he could give me no help. This done I -nodded to M. d'Agen to go first, and followed him from the room, -Simon attending us of his own motion. It would be then about -eleven o'clock in the forenoon. - -My companion ran down the stairs without ceremony, and so quickly -it was all I could do to keep up with him. At the outer door he -signed me to stand, and darting himself into the street, he -looked anxiously in the direction of the Rue St. Denys. -Fortunately the coast was still clear, and he beckoned to me to -follow him. I did so and starting to walk in the opposite -direction as fast as we could, in less than a minute we had put a -corner between us and the house. - -Our hopes of escaping unseen, however, were promptly dashed. The -house, I have said, stood in a quiet by-street, which was bounded -on the farther side by a garden-wall buttressed at intervals. We -had scarcely gone a dozen paces from my door when a man slipped -from the shelter of one of these buttresses, and after a single -glance at us, set off to run towards the Rue St. Denys. - -M. d'Agen looked back and nodded. 'There goes the news,' he -said. 'They will try to cut us off, but I think we have the -start of them.' - -I made no reply, feeling that I had resigned myself entirely into -his hands. But as we passed through the Rue de Valois, in part -of which a market was held at this hour, attracting a -considerable concourse of peasants and others, I fancied I -detected signs of unusual bustle and excitement. It seemed -unlikely that news of the priest's murder should affect so many -people and to such a degree, and I asked M. d'Agen what it meant. - -'There is a rumour abroad,' he answered, without slackening -speed, 'that the king intends to move south to Tours at once.' - -I muttered my surprise and satisfaction. 'He will come to terms -with the Huguenots then?' I said. - -'It looks like it,' M. d'Agen rejoined. 'Retz's party are in an -ill-humour on that account, and will wreak it on you if they get -a chance. On guard!' he added abruptly. 'Here are two of -them!' - -As he spoke we emerged from the crowd, and I saw, half a dozen -paces in front; of us, and coming to meet us, a couple of Court -gallants, attended by as many servants. They espied us at the -same moment, and came across the street, which was tolerably wide -at that part, with the evident intention of stopping us. -Simultaneously, however, we crossed to take their side, and so -met them face to face in the middle of the way. - -'M. d'Agen,' the foremost exclaimed, speaking in a haughty tone, -and with a dark side glance at me, 'I am sorry to see you in such -company! Doubtless you are not aware that this gentleman is the -subject of an order which has even now been issued to the -Provost-Marshal.' - -'And if so, sir? What of that?' my companion lisped in his -silkiest tone. - -'What of that?' the other cried, frowning, and pushing slightly -forward. - -'Precisely,' M. d'Agen repeated, laying his hand on his hilt and -declining to give back. 'I am not aware that his Majesty has -appointed you Provost-Marshal, or that you have any warrant, M. -Villequier, empowering you to stop gentlemen in the public -streets.' - -M. Villequier reddened with anger. 'You are young, M. d'Agen,' -he said, his voice quivering, 'or I would make you pay dearly for -that!' - -'My friend is not young,' M. d'Agen retorted, bowing. 'He is a -gentleman of birth, M. Villequier; by repute, as I learned -yesterday, one of the best swordsmen in France, and no Gascon. -If you feel inclined to arrest him, do so, I pray. And I will -have the honour of engaging your son.' - -As we had all by this time our hands on our swords, there needed -but a blow to bring about one of those street brawls which were -more common then than now. A number of market-people, drawn to -the spot by our raised voices, had gathered round, and were -waiting eagerly to see what would happen. But Villeqier, as my -companion perhaps knew, was a Gascon in heart as well as by -birth, and seeing our determined aspects, thought better of it. -Shrugging his shoulders with an affectation of disdain which -imposed on no one, he signalled to his servants to go on, and -himself stood aside. - -'I thank you for your polite offer,' he said with an evil smile, -'and will remember it. But as you say, sir, I am not the -Provost-Marshal.' - -Paying little heed to his words, we bowed, passed him, and -hurried on. But the peril was not over. Not only had the -RENCONTRE cost us some precious minutes, but the Gascon, after -letting us proceed a little way, followed us. And word being -passed by his servants, as we supposed, that one of us was the -murderer of Father Antoine, the rumour spread through the crowd -like wildfire, and in a few moments we found ourselves attended -by a troop of CANAILLE who, hanging on our skirts, caused Simon -Fleix no little apprehension. Notwithstanding the contempt which -M. d'Agen, whose bearing throughout was admirable, expressed for -them, we might have found it necessary to turn and teach them a -lesson had we not reached M. de Rambouillet's in the nick of -time; where we found the door surrounded by half a dozen armed -servants, at sight of whom our persecutors fell back with the -cowardice which is usually found in that class. - -If I had been tempted of late to think M. de Rambouillet fickle, -I had no reason to complain now; whether his attitude was due to -M. d'Agen's representations, or to the reflection that without me -the plans he had at heart must miscarry. I found him waiting -within, attended by three gentlemen, all cloaked and ready for -the road; while the air of purpose, which sat on his brow -indicated that he thought the crisis no common one. Not a moment -was lost, even in explanations. Waving me to the door again, and -exchanging a few sentences with his nephew, he gave the word to -start, and we issued from the house in a body. Doubtless the -fact that those who sought to ruin me were his political enemies -had some weight with him; for I saw his face harden as his eyes -met those of M. de Villequier, who passed slowly before the door -as we came out. The Gascon, however, was not the man to -interfere with so large a party, and dropped back; while M. de -Rambouillet, after exchanging a cold salute with him, led the way -towards the Castle at a round pace. His nephew and I walked one -on either side of him, and the others, to the number of ten or -eleven, pressed on behind in a compact body, our cortege -presenting so determined a front that the crowd, which had -remained hanging about the door, fled every way. Even some -peaceable folk who found themselves in our road took the -precaution of slipping into doorways, or stood aside to give us -the full width of the street. - -I remarked--and I think it increased my anxiety--that our leader -was dressed with more than usual care and richness, but, unlike -his attendants, wore no arms. He took occasion, as we hurried -along, to give me a word of advice. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, -looking at me suddenly, 'my nephew has given me to understand -that you place yourself entirely in my hands.' - -I replied that I asked for no better fortune, and, whatever the -event, thanked him from the bottom of my heart. - -'Be pleased then to keep silence until I bid you speak,' he -replied sharply, for he was one of those whom a sudden stress -sours and exacerbates. 'And, above all, no violence without my -orders. We are about to fight a battle, and a critical one, but -it must be won with our heads. If we can we will keep you out of -the Provost-Marshal's hands.' - -And if not? I remembered the threats Father Antoine had used, -and in a moment I lost sight of the street with all its light and -life and movement. I felt no longer the wholesome stinging of -the wind. I tasted instead a fetid air, and saw round me a -narrow cell and masked figures, and in particular a swarthy man -is a leather apron leaning over a brazier, from which came lurid -flames. And I was bound. I experienced that utter helplessness -which is the last test of courage. The man came forward, and -then--then, thank God! the vision passed away. An exclamation -to which M. d'Agen gave vent, brought me back to the present, and -to the blessed knowledge that the fight was not yet over. - -We were within a score of paces, I found, of the Castle gates; -but so were also a second party, who had just debouched from a -side-street, and now hurried on, pace for pace, with us, with the -evident intention of forestalling us, The race ended in both -companies reaching the entrance at the same time, with the -consequence of some jostling taking place amongst the servants. -This must have led to blows but for the strenuous commands which -M. de Rambouillet had laid upon his followers. I found myself in -a moment confronted by a row of scowling faces, while a dozen -threatening hands were stretched out towards me, and as many -voices, among which I recognised Fresnoy's, cried out -tumultuously, 'That is he! That is the one!' - -An elderly man in a quaint dress stepped forward, a paper in his -hand, and, backed as he was by half a dozen halberdiers, would in -a moment have laid hands on me if M. de Rambouillet had not -intervened with a negligent air of authority, which sat on him -the more gracefully as he held nothing but a riding-switch in his -hands. 'Tut, tut! What is this?' he said lightly. 'I am not -wont to have my people interfered with, M. Provost, without my -leave. You know me, I suppose?' - -'Perfectly, M. le Marquis,' the man answered with dogged respect; -'but this is by the king's special command.' - -'Very good,' my patron answered, quietly eyeing the faces behind -the Provost-Marshal, as if he were making a note of them; which -caused some of the gentlemen manifest uneasiness. 'That is soon -seen, for we are even now about to seek speech with his Majesty.' - -'Not this gentleman,' the Provost-Marshal answered firmly, -raising his hand again. 'I cannot let him pass.' - -'Yes, this gentleman too, by your leave,' the Marquis retorted, -lightly putting the hand aside with his cane. - -'Sir,' said the other, retreating a step, and speaking with some -heat, 'this is no jest with all respect. I hold the king's own -order, and it may not be resisted.' - -The nobleman tapped his silver comfit-box and smiled. 'I shall -be the last to resist it--if you have it,' he said languidly. - -'You may read it for yourself,' the Provost-Marshal answered, his -patience exhausted. - -M. de Rambouillet took the parchment with the ends of his -fingers, glanced at it, and gave it back. 'As I thought,' he -said, 'a manifest forgery.' - -'A forgery!' cried the other, crimson with indignation. 'And I -had it from the hands of the king's own secretary!' At this -those behind murmured, some 'shame,' and some one thing and some -another--all with an air so threatening that the Marquis's -gentlemen closed up behind him, and M. d'Agen laughed rudely. - -But M. de Rambouillet remained unmoved. 'You may have had it -from whom you please, sir,' he said. 'It is a forgery, and I -shall resist its execution. If you choose to await me here, I -will give you my word to render this gentleman to you within an -hour, should the order hold good. If you will not wait, I shall -command my servants to clear the way, and if ill happen, then the -responsibility will lie with you.' - -He spoke in so resolute a manner it was not difficult to see that -something more was at stake than the arrest of a single man. -This was so; the real issue was whether the king, with whose -instability it was difficult to cope, should fall back into the -hands of his old advisers or not. My arrest was a move in the -game intended as a counterblast to the victory which M. de -Rambouillet had gained when he persuaded the king to move to -Tours; a city in the neighbourhood of the Huguenots, and a place -of arms whence union with them would be easy. - -The Provost-Marshal could, no doubt, make a shrewd guess at these -things. He knew that the order he had would be held valid or not -according as one party or the other gained the mastery; and, -seeing M. de Rambouillet's resolute demeanour, he gave way. -Rudely interrupted more than once by his attendants, among whom -were some of Bruhl's men, he muttered an ungracious assent to our -proposal; on which, and without a moment's delay, the Marquis -took me by the arm and hurried me across the courtyard. - -And so far, well. My heart began to rise. But, for the Marquis, -as we mounted the staircase the anxiety he had dissembled while -we faced the Provost-Marshal, broke out in angry mutterings; from -which I gathered that the crisis was yet to come. I was not -surprised, therefore, when an usher rose on our appearance in the -antechamber, and, quickly crossing the floor, interposed between -us and the door of the chamber, informing the Marquis with a low -obeisance that his Majesty was engaged. - -'He will see me,' M. de Rambouillet cried, looking haughtily -round on the sneering pages and lounging courtiers, who grew -civil under his eye. - -'I have particular orders, sir, to admit so one,' the man -answered. - -'Tut, tut, they do not apply to me,' my companion retorted, -nothing daunted. 'I know the business on which the king is -engaged, and I am here to assist him.' And raising his hand he -thrust the startled official aside, and hardily pushed the doors -of the chamber open. - -The king, surrounded by half a dozen persons, was in the act of -putting on his riding-boots. On hearing us, he turned his head -with a startled air, and dropped in his confusion one of the -ivory cylinders he was using; while his aspect, and that of the -persons who stood round him, reminded me irresistibly of a party -of schoolboys detected in a fault. - -He recovered himself, it is true, almost immediately; and turning -his back to us? continued to talk to the persons round him on -such trifling subjects as commonly engaged him. He carried on -this conversation in a very free way, studiously ignoring our -presence; but it was plain he remained aware of it, and even that -he was uneasy under the cold and severe gaze which the Marquis, -who seemed in nowise affrighted by his reception, bent upon him. - -I, for my part, had no longer any confidence. Nay, I came near -to regretting that I had persevered in an attempt so useless. -The warrant which awaited me at the gates seemed less formidable -than his Majesty's growing displeasure; which I saw I was -incurring by remaining where I was. It needed not the insolent -glance of Marshal Retz, who lounged smiling by the king's hand, -or the laughter of a couple of pages who stood at the head of the -chamber, to deprive me of my last hope; while some things which -might have cheered me--the uneasiness of some about the king, and -the disquietude which underlay Marshal Retz's manner--escaped my -notice altogether. - -What I did see clearly was that the king's embarrassment was fast -changing to anger. The paint which reddened his cheeks prevented -tiny alteration in his colour being visible, but his frown and -the nervous manner in which he kept taking off and putting on his -jewelled cap betrayed him. At length, signing to one of his -companions to follow, he moved a little aside to a window, -whence, after a few moments, the gentleman came to us. - -'M. de Rambouillet,' he said, speaking coldly and formally, 'his -Majesty is displeased by this gentleman's presence, and requires -him to withdraw forthwith.' - -'His Majesty's word is law,' my patron answered, bowing low, and -speaking in a clear voice audible throughout; the chamber, 'but -the matter which brings this gentleman here is of the utmost -importance, and touches his Majesty's person.' - -M. de Retz laughed jeeringly. The other courtiers looked grave. -The king shrugged his shoulders with a peevish gesture, but after -a moment's hesitation, during which he looked first at Retz and -then at M. de Rambouillet, he signed to the Marquis to approach. - -'Why have you brought him here?' he muttered sharply, looking -askance at me. 'He should have been bestowed according to my -orders.' - -'He has information for your Majesty's private ear,' Rambouillet -answered. And he looked so meaningly at the king that Henry, I -think, remembered on a sudden his compact with Rosny, and my part -in it; for he started with the air of a man suddenly awakened. -'To prevent that information reaching you, sire,' my patron -continued, 'his enemies have practised on your Majesty's well- -known sense of justice.' - -'Oh, but stay, stay!' the king cried, hitching forward the -scanty cloak he wore, which barely came down to his waist. 'The -man has killed a priest! He has killed a priest, man!' - -He repeated with confidence, as if he had now got hold of the -right argument. - -That is not so, sire, craving your Majesty's pardon, M. de -Rambouillet; replied with the utmost coolness. - -'Tut! Tut! The evidence is clear,' the king said peevishly. - -'As to that, sire,' my companion rejoined, 'if it is of the -murder of Father Antoine he is accused, I say boldly that there -is none.' - -'Then there you are mistaken!' the king answered. 'I heard it -with my own ears this morning.' - -'Will you deign, sire, to tell me its nature?' M. de Rambouillet -persisted. - -But on that Marshal Retz thought it necessary to intervene. -'Need we turn his Majesty's chamber into a court of justice?' he -said smoothly. Hitherto he had not spoken; trusting, perhaps, to -the impression he had already made upon the king. - -M. de Rambouillet took no notice of him. - -'But Bruhl,' said the king, 'you see, Bruhl says--' - -'Bruhl!' my companion replied, with so much contempt that Henry -started. 'Surely your Majesty has not taken his word against -this gentleman, of all people?' - -Thus reminded, a second time, of the interests entrusted to me, -and of the advantage which Bruhl would gain by my disappearance, -the king looked first confused, and then angry. He vented his -passion in one or two profane oaths, with the childish addition -that we were all a set of traitors, and that he had no one whom -he could trust. But my companion had touched the right chord at -last; for when the king grew more composed, he waved aside -Marshal Retz's protestations, and sullenly bade Rambouillet say -what he had to say. - -'The monk was killed, sire, about sunset,' he answered. 'Now my -nephew, M. d'Agen, is without, and will tell your Majesty that he -was with this gentleman at his lodgings from about an hour before -sunset last evening until a full hour after. Consequently, M. de -Marsac can hardly be the assassin, and M. le Marechal must look -elsewhere if he wants vengeance.' - -'Justice, sir, not vengeance.' Marshal Retz said with a dark -glance. His keen Italian face hid his trouble well, but a little -pulse of passion beating in his olive cheek betrayed the secret -to those who knew him. He had a harder part to play than his -opponent; for while Rambouillet's hands were clean, Retz knew -himself a traitor, and liable at any moment to discovery and -punishment. - -'Let M. d'Agen be called,' Henry said curtly. - -'And if your Majesty pleases,' Retz added, 'M. de Bruhl also, If -you really intend, sire, that is, to reopen a matter which I -thought had been settled.' - -The king nodded obstinately, his face furrowed with ill-temper. -He kept his shifty eyes, which seldom met those of the person he -addressed, on the floor; and this accentuated the awkward -stooping carriage which was natural to him. There were seven or -eight dogs of exceeding smallness in the room, and while we -waited for the persons who had been summoned, he kicked, now one -and now another of the baskets which held them, as if he found in -this some vent for his ill-humour. - -The witnesses presently appeared, followed by several persons, -among whom were the Dukes of Nevers and Mercoeur, who came to -ride out with the king, and M. de Crillon; so that the chamber -grew passably full. The two dukes nodded formally to the -Marquis, as they passed him, but entered into a muttered -conversation with Retz, who appeared to be urging them to press -his cause. They seemed to decline, however, shrugging their -short cloaks as if the matter were too insignificant. Crillon on -his part cried audibly, and with an oath, to know what the matter -was; and being informed, asked whether all this fuss was being -made about a damned shaveling monk. - -Henry, whose tenderness for the cowl was well known, darted an -angry glance at him, but contented himself with saying sharply to -M. d'Agen, 'Now, sir, what do you know about the matter?' - -'One moment, sire,' M. Rambouillet cried, interposing before -Francois could answer. 'Craving your Majesty's pardon, you have -heard M. de Bruhl's account. May I, as a favour to myself, beg -you, sire, to permit us also to hear it?' - -'What?' Marshal Retz exclaimed angrily, 'are we to be the -judges, then, or his Majesty? Arnidieu!' he continued hotly, -'what, in the fiend's name, have we to do with it? I protest -'fore Heaven--' - -'Ay, sir, and what do you protest?' my champion retorted, -turning to him with stern disdain. - -'Silence!' cried the king who had listened almost bewildered. -'Silence! By God, gentlemen,' he continued, his eye travelling -round the circle with a sparkle of royal anger in it not unworthy -of his crown, 'you forget yourselves. I will have none of this -quarrelling in my presence or out of it. I lost Quelus and -Maugiron that way, and loss enough, and I will have none of it, I -say! M. de Bruhl,' he added, standing erect, and looking for the -moment, with all his paint and frippery, a king, 'M. de Bruhl, -repeat your story.' - -The feelings with which I listened to this controversy may be -imagined. Devoured in turn by hope and fear as now one side and -now the other seemed likely to prevail, I confronted at one -moment the gloom of the dungeon, and at another tasted the air of -freedom, which had never seemed so sweet before. Strong as these -feelings were, however, they gave way to curiosity at this point; -when I heard Bruhl called, and saw him come forward at the king's -command. Knowing this man to be himself guilty, I marvelled with -what face he would present himself before all those eyes, and -from what depths of impudence he could draw supplies in such an -emergency. - -I need not have troubled myself, however, for he was fully equal -to the occasion. His high colour and piercing black eyes met the -gaze of friend and foe alike without flinching. Dressed well and -elegantly, he wore his raven hair curled in the mode, and looked -alike gay, handsome, and imperturbable. If there was a suspicion -of coarseness about his bulkier figure, as he stood beside M. -d'Agen, who was the courtier perfect and point devise, it went to -the scale of sincerity, seeing that men naturally associate truth -with strength. - -'I know no more than this, sire,' he said easily; 'that, -happening to cross the Parvis at the moment of the murder, I -heard Father Antoine scream. He uttered four words only, in the -tone of a man in mortal peril. They were'--and here the speaker -looked for an instant at me--'Ha! Marsac! A moi!' - -'Indeed!' M. de Rambouillet said, after looking to the king for -permission. 'And that was all? You saw nothing?' - -Bruhl shook his head. 'It was too dark,' he said. - -'And heard no more?' - -'No.' - -'Do I understand, then,' the Marquis continued slowly, 'that M. -de Marsac is arrested because the priest--God rest his soul!-- -cried to him for help?' - -'For help?' M. de Retz exclaimed fiercely. - -'For help?' said the king, surprised. And at that the most; -ludicrous change fell upon the faces of all. The king looked -puzzled, the Duke of Nevers smiled, the Duke of Mercoeur laughed -aloud. Crillon cried boisterously, 'Good hit!' and the -majority, who wished no better than to divine the winning party, -grinned broadly, whether they would or no. - -To Marshal Retz, however, and Bruhl, that which to everyone else -seemed an amusing retort had a totally different aspect; while -the former turned yellow with chagrin and came near to choking, -the latter looked as chapfallen and startled as if his guilt; had -been that moment brought home to him. Assured by the tone of the -monk's voice--which must, indeed, have thundered in his ears-- -that my name was uttered in denunciation by one who thought me -his assailant, he had chosen to tell the truth without reflecting -that words, so plain to him, might; bear a different construction -when repeated. - -'Certainly the words seem ambiguous,' Henry muttered. - -'But it was Marsac killed him,' Retz cried in a rage. - -'It is for some evidence of that we are waiting,' my champion -answered suavely. - -The Marshal looked helplessly at Nevers and Mercoeur, who -commonly took part with him; but apparently those noblemen had -not been primed for this occasion. They merely shook their heads -and smiled. In the momentary silence which followed, while all -looked curiously at Bruhl, who could not conceal his -mortification, M. d'Agen stepped forward. - -'If your Majesty will permit me,' he said, a malicious simper -crossing his handsome face--I had often remarked his extreme -dislike for Bruhl without understanding it--'I think I can -furnish some evidence more to the point than that; to which M. de -Bruhl has with so much fairness restricted himself.' He then -went on to state that he had had the honour of being in my -company at the time of the murder; and he added, besides, so many -details as to exculpate me to the satisfaction of any candid -person. - -The king nodded. 'That settles the matter,' he said, with a sigh -of relief. 'You think so, Mercoeur, do you not? Precisely. -Villequier, see that the order respecting M. de Marsac is -cancelled.' - -M. de Retz could not control his wrath on hearing this direction -given. 'At this rate,' he cried recklessly, 'we shall have few -priests left here! We have got a bad name at Blois, as it is!' - -For a moment all in the circle held their breath, while the -king's eyes flashed fire at this daring allusion to the murder of -the Duke de Guise, and his brother the Cardinal. But it was -Henry's misfortune to be ever indulgent in the wrong place, and -severe when severity was either unjust or impolitic. He -recovered himself with an effort, and revenged himself only by -omitting to invite the Marshal, who was now trembling in his -shoes, to join his riding-party. - -The circle broke up amid some excitement. I stood on one side -with M. d'Agen, while the king and his immediate following passed -out, and, greatly embarrassed as I was by the civil -congratulating of many who would have seen me hang with equal -goodwill, I was sharp enough to see that something was brewing -between Bruhl and Marshal Retz, who stood back conversing in low -tones. I was not surprised, therefore, when the former made his -way towards me through the press which filled the antechamber, -and with a lowering brow requested a word with me. - -'Certainly,' I said, watching him narrowly, for I knew him to be -both treacherous and a bully. 'Speak on, sir.' - -'You have balked me once and again,' he rejoined, in a voice -which shook a little, as did the fingers with which he stroked -his waxed moustache. 'There is no need of words between us. I, -with one sword besides, will to-morrow at noon keep the bridge at -Chaverny, a league from here. It is an open country. Possibly -your pleasure may lead you to ride that way with a friend?' - -'You may depend upon me, sir,' I answered, bowing low, and -feeling thankful that the matter was at length to be brought to a -fair and open arbitration. 'I will be there--and in person. For -my deputy last night,' I added, searching his face with a -steadfast eye, 'seems to have been somewhat unlucky.' - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -TWO WOMEN. - -Out of compliment, and to show my gratitude, I attended M. de -Rambouillet home to his lodging, and found him as much pleased -with himself, and consequently with me, as I was with him. For -the time, indeed, I came near to loving him; and, certainly, he -was a man of high and patriotic feeling, and of skill and conduct -to match. But he lacked that touch of nature and that power of -sympathising with others which gave to such men as M. de Rosny -and the king, my master, their peculiar charm; though after what -I have related of him in the last chapter it does not lie in my -mouth to speak ill of him. And, indeed, he was a good man. - -When I at last reached my lodging, I found a surprise awaiting me -in the shape of a note which had just arrived no one knew how. -If the manner of its delivery was mysterious, however, its -contents were brief and sufficiently explicit; for it; ran thus: -'SIR, BY MEETING ME THREE HOURS AFTER NOON IN THE SQUARE BEFORE -THE HOUSE OF THE LITTLE SISTERS YOU WILL DO A SERVICE AT ONCE TO -YOURSELF AND TO THE UNDERSIGNED, MARIE DE BRUHL.' - -That was all, written in a feminine character, yet it was enough -to perplex me. Simon, who had manifested the liveliest joy at my -escape, would have had me treat it as I had treated the -invitation to the Parvis of the Cathedral; ignore it altogether I -mean. But I was of a different mind, and this for three reasons, -among others: that the request was straightforward, the time -early, and the place sufficiently public to be an unlikely -theatre for violence, though well fitted for an interview to -which the world at large was not invited. Then, too, the square -lay little more than a bowshot from my lodging, though on the -farther side of the Rue St. Denys. - -Besides, I could conceive many grounds which Madame de Bruhl -might have for seeing me; of which some touched me nearly. I -disregarded Simon's warnings, therefore, and repaired at the time -appointed to the place--a clean, paved square a little off the -Rue St. Denys, and entered from the latter by a narrow passage. -It was a spot pleasantly convenient for meditation, but -overlooked on one side by the House of the Little Sisters; in -which, as I guessed afterwards, madame must have awaited me, for -the square when I entered it was empty, yet in a moment, though -no one came in from the street, she stood beside me. She wore a -mask and long cloak. The beautiful hair and perfect complexion, -which had filled me with so much admiration at our first meeting -in her house, were hidden, but I saw enough of her figure and -carriage to be sure that it was Madame de Bruhl and no other. - -She began by addressing me in a tone of bitterness, for which I -was not altogether unprepared. - -'Well, sir,' she exclaimed, her voice trembling with anger, 'you -are satisfied, I hope, with your work?' - -I expected this and had my answer ready. 'I am not aware, -Madame,' I said, 'that I have cause to reproach myself. But, -however that may be, I trust you have summoned me for some better -purpose than to chide me for another's fault; though it was my -voice which brought it to light.' - -'Why did you shame me publicly?' she retorted, thrusting her -handkerchief to her lips and withdrawing it again with a -passionate gesture. - -'Madame,' I answered patiently--I was full of pity for her, -'consider for a moment the wrong your husband did me and how -small and inadequate was the thing I did to him in return.' - -'To him!' she ejaculated so fiercely that I started. 'It was to -me--to me you did it! What had I done that you should expose me -to the ridicule of those who know no pity, and the anger of one -as merciless? What had I done, sir?' - -I shook my head sorrowfully. 'So far, madame,' I answered, 'I -allow I owe you reparation, and I will make it should it ever be -in my power. Nay, I will say more,' I continued, for the tone in -which she spoke had wrung my heart. 'In one point I strained the -case against your husband. To the best of my belief he abducted -the lady who was in my charge, not for the love of her, but for -political reasons, and as the agent of another.' - -She gasped. 'What?' she cried. 'Say that again!' - -As I complied she tore off her mask and gazed into my face with -straining eyes and parted lips. I saw then how much she was -changed, even in these few days--how pale and worn were her -cheeks, how dark the circles round her eyes. 'Will you swear to -it?' she said at last, speaking with uncontrollable eagerness, -while she laid a hand which shook with excitement on my arm. -Will you swear to it, sir?' - -'It is true,' I answered steadfastly. I might have added that -after the event her husband had so treated mademoiselle as to -lead her to fear the worst. But I refrained, feeling that it was -no part of my duty to come between husband and wife. - -She clasped her hands, and for a moment looked passionately -upwards, as though she were giving thanks to Heaven; while the -flesh of health and loveliness which I had so much admired -returned, and illumined her face in a wonderful manner. She -seemed, in truth and for the moment, transformed. Her blue eyes -filled with tears, her lips moved; nor have I ever seen anything -bear so near a resemblance to those pictures of the Virgin Mary -which Romans worship as madame did then. - -The change, however, was as evanescent as it was admirable. In -an instant she seemed to collapse. She struck her hands to her -face and moaned, and I saw tears, which she vainly strove to -restrain, dropping through her fingers. 'Too late!' she -murmured, in a tone of anguish which wrung my heart. 'Alas, you -robbed me of one man, you give me back another. I know him now -for what he is. If he did not love her then, he does now. It is -too late!' - -She seemed so much overcome that I assisted her to reach a bench -which stood against the wall a few paces away; nor, I confess, -was it without difficulty and much self-reproach that I limited -myself to those prudent offices only which her state and my duty -required. To console her on the subject of her husband was -impossible; to ignore him, and so to console her, a task which -neither my discretion nor my sense of honour, though sorely -tried, permitted me to undertake. - -She presently recovered and, putting on her mask again, said -hurriedly that she had still a word to say to me. 'You have -treated me honestly,' she continued, 'and, though I have no cause -to do anything but hate you, I say in return, look to yourself! -You escaped last night--I know all, for it was my velvet knot-- -which I had made thinking to send it to you to procure this -meeting--that he used as a lure. But he is not yet at the end of -his resources. Look to yourself, therefore.' - -I thought of the appointment I had made with him for the morrow, -but I confined myself to thanking her, merely saying, as I bowed -over the hand she resigned to me in token of farewell, 'Madame, I -am grateful. I am obliged to you both for your warning and your -forgiveness.' - -'Bending her head coldly she drew away her hand. At that moment, -as I lifted my eyes, I saw something which for an instant rooted -me to the spot with astonishment. In the entrance of the passage -which led to the Rue St. Denys two people were standing, watching -us. The one was Simon Fleix, and the other, a masked woman, a -trifle below the middle height, and clad in a riding-coat, was -Mademoiselle de la Vire! - -I knew her in a moment. But the relief I experienced on seeing -her safe and in Blois was not unmixed with annoyance that Simon -Fleix should have been so imprudent as to parade her -unnecessarily in the street. I felt something of confusion also -on my own account; for I could not tell how long she and her -escort had been watching me. And these two feelings were -augmented when, after turning to pay a final salute to Madame de -Bruhl, I looked again towards the passage and discovered that -mademoiselle and her squire were gone. - -Impatient as I was, I would not seem to leave madame rudely or -without feeling, after the consideration she had shown me in her -own sorrow; and accordingly I waited uncovered until she -disappeared within the 'Little Sisters.' Then I started eagerly -towards my lodging, thinking I might yet overtake mademoiselle -before she entered. I was destined to meet, however, with -another though very pertinent hindrance. As I passed from the -Rue St. Denys into the quiet of my street I heard a voice calling -my name, and, looking back, saw M. de Rambouillet's equerry, a -man deep in his confidence, running after me. He brought a -message from his master, which he begged me to consider of the -first importance. - -'The Marquis would not trust it to writing, sir,' he continued, -drawing me aside into a corner where we were conveniently -retired, 'but he made me learn it by heart. "Tell M. de Marsac," -said he, "that that which he was left in Blois to do must be done -quickly, or not at all. There is something afoot in the other -camp, I am not sure what. But now is the time to knock in the -nail. I know his zeal, and I depend upon him."' - -An hour before I should have listened to this message with -serious doubts and misgivings. Now, acquainted with -mademoiselle's arrival, I returned M. de Rambouillet an answer in -the same strain, and parting civilly from Bertram, who was a man -I much esteemed, I hastened on to my lodgings, exulting in the -thought that the hour and the woman were come at last, and that -before the dawn of another day I might hope, all being well, to -accomplish with honour to myself and advantage to others the -commission which M. de Rosny had entrusted to me. - -I must not deny that, mingled with this, was some excitement at -the prospect of seeing mademoiselle again. I strove to conjure -up before me as I mounted the stairs the exact expression of her -face as I had last seen it bending from the window at Rosny; to -the end that I might have some guide for my future conduct, and -might be less likely to fall into the snare of a young girl's -coquetry. But I could come now, as then, to no satisfactory or -safe conclusion, and only felt anew the vexation I had -experienced on losing the velvet knot, which she had given me on -that occasion. - -I knocked at the door of the rooms which I had reserved for her, -and which were on the floor below my own; but I got no answer. -Supposing that Simon had taken her upstairs, I mounted quickly, -not doubting I should find her there. Judge of my surprise and -dismay when I found that room also empty, save for the lackey -whom M. de Rambouillet had lent me! - -'Where are they?' I asked the man, speaking sharply, and -standing with my hand on the door. - -'The lady and her woman, sir?' he answered, coming forward. - -'Yes, yes!' I cried impatiently, a sudden fear at my heart. - -She went out immediately after her arrival with Simon Fleix, sir, -and has not yet returned,' he answered. - -The words were scarcely out of his mouth before I heard several -persons enter the passage below and begin to ascend the stairs. -I did not; doubt that mademoiselle and the lad had come home -another way and, been somehow detained; and I turned with a sigh -of relief to receive them. But when the persons whose steps I -had heard appeared, they proved to be only M. de Rosny's equerry, -stout, burly, and bright-eyed as ever, and two armed servants. - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -'LA FEMME DISPOSE.' - -The moment the equerry's foot touched the uppermost stair I -advanced upon him. 'Where is your mistress, man?' I said. -'Where is Mademoiselle de la Vire? Be quick, tell me what you -have done with her.' - -His face fell amazingly. 'Where is she?' he answered, faltering -between surprise and alarm at my sudden onslaught. 'Here, she -should be. I left her here not an hour ago. Mon Dieu! Is she -not here now?' - -His alarm increased mine tenfold. 'No!' I retorted, 'she is -not! She is gone! And you--what business had you, in the fiend's -name, to leave her here, alone and unprotected? Tell me that!' - -He leaned against the balustrade, making no attempt to defend -himself, and seemed, in his sudden terror, anything but the bold, -alert fellow who had ascended the stairs two minutes before. 'I -was a fool,' he groaned. 'I saw your man Simon here; and -Fanchette, who is as good as a man, was with her mistress. And I -went to stable the horses. I thought no evil. And now--My God!' -he added, suddenly straightening himself, while his face. grew -hard and grim, 'I am undone! My master will never forgive me!' - -'Did you come straight here?' I said, considering that, after -all, he was no more in fault than I had been on a former -occasion. - -'We went first to M. de Rosny's lodging,' he answered, 'where we -found your message telling us to come here. We came on without -dismounting.' - -'Mademoiselle may have gone back, and be there,' I said. 'It is -possible. Do you stay here and keep a good look-out, and I will -go and see. Let one of your men come with me.' - -He uttered a brief assent; being a man as ready to take as to -give orders, and thankful now for any suggestion which held out a -hope of mademoiselle's safety. Followed by the servant he -selected, I ran down the stairs, and in a moment was hurrying -along the Rue St. Denys. The day was waning. The narrow streets -and alleys were already dark, but the air of excitement which I -had noticed in the morning still marked the townsfolk, of whom a -great number were strolling abroad, or standing in doorways -talking to their gossips. Feverishly anxious as I was, I -remarked the gloom which dwelt on all faces; but as I set it -down. to the king's approaching departure, and besides was -intent on seeing that those we sought did not by any chance pass -us in the crowd, I thought little of it. Five minutes' walking -brought us to M. de Rosny's lodging. There I knocked at the -door; impatiently, I confess, and with little hope of success. -But, to my surprise, barely an instant elapsed before the door -opened, and I saw before me Simon Fleix! - -Discovering who it was, he cowered back, with a terrified face, -and retreated to the wall with his arm raised. - -'You scoundrel!' I exclaimed, restraining myself with -difficulty. 'Tell me this moment where Mademoiselle de la Vire -is! Or, by Heaven, I shall forget what my mother owed to you, -and do you a mischief!' - -For an instant he glared at me viciously, with all his teeth -exposed, as though he meant to refuse--and more. Then he thought -better of it, and, raising his hand, pointed sulkily upwards. - -'Go before me and knock at the door,' I said, tapping the hilt of -my dagger with meaning. - -Cowed by my manner, he obeyed, and led the way to the room in -which M. de Rambouillet had surprised us on a former occasion. -Here he stopped at the door and knocked gently; on which a sharp -voice inside bade us enter. I raised the latch and did so, -closing the door behind me. - -Mademoiselle, still wearing her riding-coat, sat in a chair -before the hearth, on which a newly kindled fire sputtered and -smoked. She had her back to me, and did not turn on my entrance, -but continued to toy in an absent manner with the strings of the -mask which lay in her lap. Fanchette stood bolt upright behind -her, with her elbows squared and her hands clasped; in such an -attitude that I guessed the maid had been expressing her strong -dissatisfaction with this latest whim of her mistress, and -particularly with mademoiselle's imprudence in wantonly exposing -herself, with so inadequate a guard as Simon, in a place where -she had already suffered so much. I was confirmed in this notion -on seeing the woman's harsh countenance clear at sight of me; -though the churlish nod, which was all the greeting she bestowed -on me, seemed to betoken anything but favour or good-will. She -touched her mistress on the shoulder, however, and said, 'M. de -Marsac is here.' - -Mademoiselle turned her head and looked at me languidly, without -stirring in her chair or removing the foot she, was warming. -'Good evening,' she said. - -The greeting seemed so brief and so commonplace, ignoring, as it -did, both the pains and anxiety to which she had just put me and -the great purpose for which we were here--to say nothing of that -ambiguous parting which she must surely remember as well as I-- -that the words I had prepared died on my lips, and I looked at -her in honest confusion. All her small face was pale except her -lips. Her brow was dark, her eyes were hard as well as weary. -And not words only failed me as I looked at her, but anger; -having mounted the stairs hot foot to chide, I felt on a sudden ---despite my new cloak and scabbard, my appointment, and the -same I had made at Court--the same consciousness of age; and -shabbiness and poverty which had possessed me in her presence -from the beginning. I muttered, 'Good evening, mademoiselle,' -and that was all I could say--I who had frightened the burly -Maignan a few minutes before! - -Seeing, I have no doubt, the effect she produced on me, she -maintained for some time an embarrassing silence. At length she -said, frigidly, 'Perhaps M. de Marsac will sit, Fanchette. Place -a chair for him. I am afraid, however, that after his successes -at Court he may find our reception somewhat cold. But we are -only from the country,' she added, looking at me askance, with a -gleam of anger in her eyes. - -I thanked her huskily, saying that I would not sit, as I could -not stay. 'Simon Fleix,' I continued, finding my voice with -difficulty, 'has, I am afraid, caused you some trouble by -bringing you to this house instead of telling you that I had made -preparation for you at my lodgings.' - -'It was not Simon Fleix's fault,' she replied curtly. 'I prefer -these rooms. They are more convenient.' - -'They are, perhaps, more convenient,' I rejoined humbly, 'But I -have to think of safety, mademoiselle, as you know. At my house -I have a competent guard, and can answer for your being -unmolested.' - -'You can send your guard here,' she said with a royal air. - -'But, mademoiselle--' - -'Is it not enough that I have said that I prefer these rooms?' -she replied sharply, dropping her mask on her lap and looking -round at me in undisguised displeasure. 'Are you deaf, sir? Let -me tell you, I am in no mood for argument. I am tired with -riding. I prefer these rooms, and that is enough!' - -Nothing could exceed the determination with which she said these -words, unless it were the malicious pleasure in thwarting my -wishes which made itself seen through the veil of assumed -indifference. I felt myself brought up with a vengeance, and in -a manner the most provoking that could be conceived. But -opposition so childish, so utterly wanton, by exciting my -indignation, had presently the effect of banishing the peculiar -bashfulness I felt in her presence, and recalling me to my duty. - -'Mademoiselle,' I said firmly, looking at her with a fixed -countenance, 'pardon me if I speak plainly. This is no time for -playing with straws. The men from whom you escaped once are as -determined and more desperate now. By this time they probably -know of your arrival. Do, then, as I ask, I pray and beseech -you. Or this time I may lack the power, though never the will, -to save you.' - -Wholly ignoring my appeal, she looked into my face--for by this -time I had advanced to her side--with a whimsical smile. 'You -are really much improved in manner since I last saw you,' she -said. - -'Mademoiselle!' I replied, baffled and repelled. 'What do you -mean?' - -'What I say,' she answered, flippantly. 'But it was to be -expected.' - -'For shame!' I cried, provoked almost beyond bearing by her ill- -timed raillery, 'will you never be serious until you have ruined -us and yourself? I tell you this house is not safe for you! It -is not safe for me! I cannot bring my men to it, for there is -not room for them. If you have any spark of consideration, of -gratitude, therefore--' - -'Gratitude!' she exclaimed, swinging her mask slowly to and fro -by a ribbon, while she looked up at me as though my excitement -amused her. 'Gratitude--'tis a very pretty phrase, and means -much; but it is for those who serve us faithfully, M. de Marsac, -and not for others. You receive so many favours, I am told, and -are so successful at Court, that I should not be justified in -monopolising your services.' - -'But, mademoiselle--' I said in a low tone. And there I stopped. -I dared not proceed. - -'Well, sir,' she answered, looking up at she after a moment's -silence, and ceasing on a sudden to play with her toy, 'what is -it?' - -'You spoke of favours,' I continued, with an effort. 'I never -received but one from a lady. That was at Rosny, and from your -hand.' - -'From my hand?' she answered, with an air of cold surprise. - -'It was so, mademoiselle.' - -'You have fallen into some strange mistake, sir,' she replied, -rousing herself, and looking at me indifferently 'I never gave -you a favour.' - -I bowed low. 'If you say you did not, mademoiselle, that is -enough,' I answered. - -'Nay, but do not let me do you an injustice, M. de Marsac,' she -rejoined, speaking more quickly and in an altered tone. 'If you -can show me the favour I gave you, I shall, of course, be -convinced. Seeing is believing, you know,' she added, with a -light nervous laugh, and a gesture of something like shyness. - -If I had not sufficiently regretted my carelessness, and loss of -the bow at the time, I did so now. I looked at her in silence, -and saw her face, that had for a moment shown signs of feeling, -almost of shame, grow slowly hard again. - -'Well, sir?' she said impatiently. 'The proof is easy.' - -'It was taken from me; I believe, by M. de Rosny,' I answered -lamely, wondering what ill-luck had led her to put the question -and press it to this point. - -'It was taken from you!' she exclaimed, rising and confronting -me with the utmost suddenness, while her eyes flashed, and her -little hand crumpled the mask beyond future usefulness. 'It was -taken from you, sir!' she repeated, her voice and her whole -frame trembling with anger and disdain. 'Then I thank you, I -prefer my version. Yours is impossible. For let me tell you, -when Mademoiselle de la Vire does confer a favour, it will be on -a man with the power and the wit--and the constancy, to keep it, -even from M. de Rosny!' - -Her scorn hurt, though it did not anger me. I felt it to be in a -measure deserved, and raged against myself rather than against -her. But aware through all of the supreme importance of placing -her in safety, I subjected my immediate feelings to the -exigencies of the moment and stooped to an argument which would, -I thought, have weight though private pleading failed. - -'Putting myself aside, mademoiselle,' I said, with more formality -than I had yet used, 'there is one consideration which must weigh -with you. The king--' - -'The king!' she cried, interrupting me violently, her face hot -with passion and her whole person instinct with stubborn self- -will. 'I shall not see the king!' - -'You will not see the king?' I repeated in amazement. - -'No, I will not!' she answered, in a whirl of anger, scorn, and -impetuosity. 'There! I will not! I have been made a toy and a -tool long enough, M. de Marsac,' she continued, 'and I will serve -others' ends no more. I have made up my mind. Do not talk to -me; you will do no good, sir. I would to Heaven,' she added -bitterly, 'I had stayed at Chize and never seen this place!' - -'But, mademoiselle,' I said, 'you have not thought--' - -'Thought!' she exclaimed, shutting her small white teeth so -viciously I all but recoiled. 'I have thought enough. I am sick -of thought. I am going to act now. I will be a puppet no -longer. You may take me to the castle by force if you will; but -you cannot make me speak.' - -I looked at her in the utmost dismay, and astonishment; being -unable at first to believe that a woman who had gone through so -much, had run so many risks, and ridden so many miles for a -purpose, would, when all was done and the hour come, decline to -carry out her plan. I could not believe it, I say, at first; and -I tried arguments, and entreaties without stint, thinking that -she only asked to be entreated or coaxed. - -But I found prayers and even threats breath wasted upon her; and -beyond these I would not go. I know I have been blamed by some -and ridiculed by others for not pushing the matter farther; but -those who have stood face to face with a woman of spirit--a woman -whose very frailty and weakness fought for her--will better -understand the difficulties with which I had to contend and the -manner in which conviction was at last borne in on my mind. I -had never before confronted stubbornness of this kind. As -mademoiselle said again and again, I might force her to Court, -but I could not make her speak. - -When I had tried every means of persuasion, and still found no -way of overcoming her resolution the while Fanchette looked on -with a face of wood, neither aiding me nor taking part against -me--I lost, I confess, in the chagrin of the moment that sense of -duty which had hitherto animated me; and though my relation to -mademoiselle should have made me as careful as ever of her -safety, even in her own despite, I left her at last in anger and -went out without saying another word about removing her--a thing -which was still in my power. I believe a very brief reflection -would have recalled me to myself and my duty; but the opportunity -was not given me, for I had scarcely reached the head of the -stairs before Fanchette came after me, and called to me in a -whisper to stop. - -She held a taper in her hand, and this she raised to my face, -smiling at the disorder which she doubtless read there. 'Do you -say that this house is not safe?' she asked abruptly, lowering -the light as she spoke. - -'You have tried a house in Blois before?' I replied with the -same bluntness. 'You should know as well as I, woman.' - -'She must be taken from here, then,' she answered, nodding her -head, cunningly. 'I can persuade her. Do you send for your -people, and be here in half an hour. It may take me that time to -wheedle her. But I shall do it.' - -'Then listen,' I said eagerly, seizing the opportunity and her -sleeve and drawing her farther from the door. 'If you can -persuade her to that, you can persuade to all I wish. Listen, my -friend,' I continued, sinking my voice still lower. 'If she will -see the king for only ten minutes, and tell him what she knows, I -will give you--' - -'What?' the woman asked suddenly and harshly, drawing at the -same time her sleeve from my hand. - -'Fifty crowns,' I replied, naming in my desperation a sum which -would seem a fortune to a person in her position. 'Fifty crowns -down, the moment the interview is over.' - -'And for that you would have me sell her!' the woman cried with -a rude intensity of passion which struck me like a blow. 'For -shame! For shame, man! You persuaded her to leave her home and -her friends, and the country where she was known; and now you -would have me sell her! Shame on you! Go!' she added -scornfully. 'Go this instant and get your men. The king, say -you? The king! I tell you I would not have her finger ache to -save all your kings!' - -She flounced away with that, and I retired crestfallen; wondering -much at the fidelity which Providence, doubtless for the well- -being of the gentle, possibly for the good of all, has implanted -in the humble. Finding Simon, to whom I had scarce patience to -speak, waiting on the stairs below, I despatched him to Maignan, -to bid him come to me with his men. Meanwhile I watched the -house myself until their arrival, and then, going up, found that -Fanchette had been as good as her word. Mademoiselle, with a -sullen mien, and a red spot on either cheek, consented to -descend, and, preceded by a couple of links, which Maignan had -thoughtfully provided, was escorted safely to my lodgings; where -I bestowed her in the rooms below my own, which I had designed -for her. - -At the door she turned and bowed to me, her face on fire. - -'So far, sir, you have got your way,' she said, breathing -quickly. 'Do not flatter yourself, however, that you will get it -farther--even by bribing my woman!' - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE LAST VALOIS. - -I stood for a few moments on the stairs, wondering what I should -do in an emergency to which the Marquis's message of the -afternoon attached so pressing a character. Had it not been for -that I might have waited until morning, and felt tolerably -certain of finding mademoiselle in a more reasonable mood then. -But as it was I dared not wait. I dared not risk the delay, and -I came quickly to the conclusion that the only course open to me -was to go at once to M. de Rambouillet and tell him frankly how -the matter stood. - -Maignan had posted one of his men at the open doorway leading -into the street, and fixed his own quarters on the landing at the -top, whence he could overlook an intruder without being seen -himself. Satisfied with the arrangement, I left Rambouillet's -man to reinforce him, and took with me Simon Fleix, of whose -conduct in regard to mademoiselle I entertained the gravest -doubts. - -The night, I found on reaching the street, was cold, the sky -where it was visible between the eaves being bright with stars. -A sharp wind was blowing, too, compelling us to wrap our cloaks -round us and hurry on at a pace which agreed well with the -excitement of my thoughts. Assured that had mademoiselle been -complaisant I might have seen my mission accomplished within the -hour, it was impossible I should not feel impatient with one who, -to gratify a whim, played with the secrets of a kingdom as if -they were counters, and risked in passing ill-humour the results -of weeks of preparation. And I was impatient, and with her. But -my resentment fell so far short of the occasion that I wondered -uneasily at my own easiness, and felt more annoyed with myself -for failing to be properly annoyed with her, than inclined to lay -the blame where it was due. It was in vain I told myself -contemptuously that she was a woman and that women were not -accountable. I felt that the real secret and motive of my -indulgence lay, not in this, but in the suspicion, which her -reference to the favour given me on my departure from Rosny had -converted almost into a certainty, that I was myself the cause of -her sudden ill-humour. - -I might have followed this train of thought farther, and to very -pertinent conclusions. But on reaching M. de Rambouillet's -lodging I was diverted from it by the abnormally quiet aspect of -the house, on the steps of which half a dozen servants might -commonly be seen lounging. Now the doors were closed, no lights -shone through the windows, and the hall sounded empty and -desolate when I knocked. Not a lackey hurried to receive me even -then; but the slipshod tread of the old porter, as he came with a -lantern to open, alone broke the silence. I waited eagerly -wondering what all this could mean; and when the man at last -opened, and, recognising my face, begged my pardon if he had kept -me waiting I asked him impatiently what was the matter. - -'And where is the Marquis?' I added, stepping inside to be out -of the wind, and loosening my cloak. - -'Have you not heard, sir?' the man asked, holding up his lantern -to my face. He was an old, wizened, lean fellow. 'It is a -break-up, sir, I am afraid, this time.' - -'A break-up?' I rejoined, peevishly. 'Speak out, man! What is -the matter? I hate mysteries.' - -You have not heard the news, sir? That the Duke of Mercoeur and -Marshal Retz, with all their people, left Blois this afternoon?' - -'No?' I answered, somewhat startled. 'Whither are they gone?' - -'To Paris, it is said, sir,--to join the League.' - -'But do you mean that they have deserted the king?' I asked. - -'For certain, sir!' he answered. - -'Not the Duke of Mercoeur?' I exclaimed. 'Why, man, he is the -king's brother-in-law. He owes everything to him.' - -'Well, he is gone, sir,' the old man answered positively. 'The -news was brought to M. le Marquis about four o'clock, or a little -after. He got his people together, and started after them to try -and persuade them to return. Or, so it is said.' - -As quickly as I could, I reviewed the situation in my mind. If -this strange news were true, and men like Mercoeur, who had every -reason to stand by the king, as well as men like Retz, who had -long been suspected of disaffection, were abandoning the Court, -the danger must be coming close indeed. The king must feel his -throne already tottering, and be eager to grasp at any means of -supporting it. Under such circumstances it seemed to be my -paramount duty to reach him; to gain his ear if possible, and at -all risks; that I and not Bruhl, Navarre not Turenne, might -profit by the first impulse of self-preservation. - -Bidding the porter shut his door and keep close, I hurried to the -Castle, and was presently more than confirmed in my resolution. -For to my surprise I found the Court in much the same state as M. -de Rambouillet's house. There were double guards indeed at the -gates, who let me pass after scrutinising me narrowly; but the -courtyard, which should have been at this hour ablaze with -torches and crowded with lackeys and grooms, was a dark -wilderness, in which half a dozen links trembled mournfully. -Passing through the doors I found things within in the same -state: the hall ill lit and desolate; the staircase manned only -by a few whispering groups, who scanned me as I passed; the ante- -chambers almost empty, or occupied by the grey uniforms of the -Switzer guards. Where I had looked, to see courtiers assembling -to meet their sovereign and assure him of their fidelity, I found -only gloomy faces, watchful eyes, and mouths ominously closed. -An air of constraint and foreboding rested on all. A single -footstep sounded hollowly. The long corridors, which had so -lately rung with laughter and the rattle of dice, seemed already -devoted to the silence, and desolation which awaited them when -the Court should depart. Where any spoke I caught the name of -Guise; and I could have fancied that his mighty shadow lay upon -the place and cursed it. - -Entering the chamber, I found matters little better there. His -Majesty was not present, nor were any of the Court ladies; but -half a dozen gentlemen, among whom I recognised Revol, one of the -King's secretaries, stood near the alcove. They looked up on my -entrance, as though expecting news, and then, seeing who it was, -looked away again impatiently. The Duke of Nevers was walking -moodily to and fro before one of the windows, his hands clasped -behind his back: while Biron and Crillon, reconciled by the -common peril, talked loudly on the hearth. I hesitated a moment, -uncertain how to proceed, for I was not yet; so old at Court as -to feel at home there. But, at last making up my mind, I walked -boldly up to Crillon and requested his good offices to procure me -an immediate audience of the king. - -'An audience? Do you mean you want to see him alone?' he said, -raising his eyebrows and looking whimsically at Biron. - -'That is my petition, M. de Crillon,' I answered firmly, though -my heart sank. 'I am here on M. de Rambouillet's business, and I -need to see his Majesty forthwith,' - -'Well, that is straightforward,' he replied, clapping me on the -shoulder. 'And you shall see him. In coming to Crillon you have -come to the right man. Revol,' he continued, turning to the -secretary, 'this gentleman bears a message from M. de Rambouillet -to the king. Take him to the closet without delay, my friend, -and announce him. I will be answerable for him.' - -But the secretary shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. 'It is -quite impossible, M. de Crillon,' he said gravely. 'Quite -impossible at present.' - -'Impossible! Chut! I do not know the word,' Crillon retorted -rudely. 'Come, take him at once, and blame me if ill comes of -it. Do you hear?' - -'But his Majesty--' - -'Well?' - -'Is at his devotions,' the secretary said stiffly. - -'His Majesty's devotions be hanged!' Crillon rejoined--so loudly -that there was a general titter, and M. de Nevers laughed grimly. -'Do you hear?' the Avennais continued, his face growing redder -and his voice higher, 'or must I pull your ears, my friend? Take -this gentleman to the closet, I say, and if his Majesty be angry, -tell him it was by my order. I tell you he comes from -Rambouillet.' - -I do not know whether it was the threat, or the mention of M. de -Rambouillet's name, which convinced the secretary. But at any -rate, after a moment's hesitation, he acquiesced. - -He nodded sullenly to me to follow him, and led the way to a -curtain which masked the door of the closet. I followed him -across the chamber, after muttering a hasty word of -acknowledgment to Crillon; and I had as nearly as possible -reached the door when the bustle of some one entering the chamber -caught my ear. I had just time to turn and see that this was -Bruhl, just time to intercept the dark look of chagrin and -surprise which he fixed on me, and then Revol, holding up the -curtain, signed to me to enter. - -I expected to pass at once into the presence of the king, and had -my reverence ready. Instead, I found myself to my surprise in a -small chamber, or rather passage, curtained at both ends, and -occupied by a couple of guardsmen--members, doubtless, of the -Band of the Forty-Five who rose at my entrance and looked at me -dubiously. Their guard-room, dimly illumined by a lamp of red -glass, seemed to me, in spite of its curtains and velvet bench, -and the thick tapestry which kept out every breath of wholesome -air, the most sombre I could imagine. And the most ill-omened. -But I had no time to make any long observation; for Revol, -passing me brusquely, raised the curtain at the other end, and, -with his finger on his lip, bade me by signs to enter. - -I did so as silently, the heavy scent of perfumes striking me in -the face as I raised a second curtain, and stopped short a pace -beyond it; partly in reverence--because kings love their subjects -best at a distance--and partly in surprise. For the room, or -rather that portion of it in which I stood, was in darkness; only -the farther end being illumined by a cold pale flood of -moonlight, which, passing through a high, straight window, lay in -a silvery sheet on the floor. For an instant I thought I was -alone; then I saw, resting against this window, with a hand on -either mullion, a tall figure, having something strange about the -head. This peculiarity presently resolved itself into the turban -in which I had once before seen his Majesty. The king--for he it -was--was talking to himself. He had not heard me enter, and -having his back to me remained unconscious of my presence. - -I paused in doubt, afraid to advance, anxious to withdraw; yet -uncertain whether I could move again unheard. At this moment -while I stood hesitating, he raised his voice, and his words, -reaching my ears, riveted my attention, so strange and eerie were -both they and his tone. 'They say there is ill-luck in -thirteen,' he muttered. 'Thirteen Valois and last!' He paused -to laugh a wicked, mirthless laugh. 'Ay,--Thirteenth! And it is -thirteen years since I entered Paris, a crowned King! There were -Quelus and Maugiron and St. Megrin and I--and he, I remember. -Ah, those days, those nights! I would sell my soul to live them -again; had I not sold it long ago in the living them once! We -were young then, and rich, and I was king; and Quelus was an -Apollo! He died calling on me to save him. And Maugiron died, -blaspheming God and the saints. And St. Megrin, he had thirty- -four wounds. And he--he is dead too, curse him! They are all -dead, all dead, and it is all over! My God! it is all over, it -is all over, it is all over!' - -He repeated the last four words more than a dozen times, rocking -himself to and fro by his hold on the mullions. I trembled as I -listened, partly through fear on my own account should I be -discovered, and partly by reason of the horror of despair and -remorse--no, not remorse, regret--which spoke in his monotonous -voice. I guessed that some impulse had led him to draw the -curtain from the window and shade the lamp; and that then, as he -looked down on the moonlit country, the contrast between it and -the vicious, heated atmosphere, heavy with intrigue and worse, in -which he had spent his strength, had forced itself upon his mind. -For he presently went on. - -'France! There it lies! And what will they do with it? Will -they cut it up into pieces, as it was before old Louis XI? Will -Mercoeur--curse him! be the most Christian Duke of Brittany? -And Mayenne, by the grace of God, Prince of Paris and the Upper -Seine? Or will the little Prince of Bearn beat them, and be -Henry IV., King of France and Navarre, Protector of the Churches? -Curse him too! He is thirty-six. He is my age. But he is young -and strong, and has all before him. While I--I--oh, my God, have -mercy on me! Have mercy on me, O God in Heaven!' - -With the last word he fell on his knees on the step before the -window, and burst into such an agony of unmanly tears and -sobbings as I had never dreamed of or imagined, and least of all -in the King of France. Hardly knowing whether to be more ashamed -or terrified, I turned at all risks, and stealthily lifting the -curtain, crept out with infinite care; and happily with so much -good fortune as to escape detection. There was space enough -between the two curtains to admit my body and no more; and here I -stood a short while to collect my thoughts. Then, striking my -scabbard against the wall, as though by accident, and coughing -loudly at the same moment, I twitched the curtain aside with some -violence and re-entered, thinking that by these means I had given -him warning enough. - -But I had not reckoned on the darkness in which the room lay, or -the excitable state in which I had left him. He heard me, -indeed, but being able to see only a tall, indistinct figure -approaching him, he took fright, and falling back against the -moonlit window, as though he saw a ghost, thrust out his hand, -gasping at the same time two words, which sounded to me like 'Ha! -Guise!' - -The next instant, discerning that I fell on my knee where I -stood, and came no nearer, he recovered himself. with an effort, -which his breathing made very apparent, he asked in an unsteady -voice who it was. - -'One of your Majesty's most faithful servants,' I answered, -remaining on my knee, and affecting to see nothing. - -Keeping his face towards me, he sidled to the lamp and strove to -withdraw the shade. But his fingers trembled so violently that -it was some time before he succeeded, and set free the cheerful -beams, which, suddenly filling the room with radiance, disclosed -to my wondering eyes, instead of darkness and the cold gleam of -the moon, a profusion of riches, of red stuffs and gemmed trifles -and gilded arms crowded together in reckless disorder. A monkey -chained in one corner began to gibber and mow at me. A cloak of -strange cut, stretched on a wooden stand, deceived me for an -instant into thinking that there was a third person present; -while the table, heaped with dolls and powder-puff's, dog-collars -and sweet-meats, a mask, a woman's slipper, a pair of pistols, -some potions, a scourge, and an immense quantity of like litter, -had as melancholy an appearance in my eyes as the king himself, -whose disorder the light disclosed without mercy. His turban was -awry, and betrayed the premature baldness of his scalp. The -paint on his cheeks was cracked and stained, and had soiled the -gloves he wore. He looked fifty years old; and in his excitement -he had tugged his sword to the front, whence it refused to be -thrust back. - -'Who sent you here?' he asked, when he had so far recovered his -senses as to recognise me, which he did with great surprise. - -'I am here, sire,' I answered evasively, 'to place myself at your -Majesty's service.' - -'Such loyalty is rare,' he answered, with a bitter sneer. 'But -stand up, sir. I suppose I must be thankful for small mercies, -and, losing a Mercoeur, be glad to receive a Marsac.' - -'By your leave, sire,' I rejoined hardily, 'the exchange is not -so adverse. Your Majesty may make another duke when you will. -But honest men are not so easily come by.' - -'So! so!' he answered, looking at me with a fierce light in his -eyes. 'You remind me in season, I may still make and unmake! I -am still King of France? That is so sirrah, is it not?' - -'God forbid that it should be otherwise!' I answered earnestly. -'It is to lay before your Majesty certain means by which you may -give fuller effect to your wishes that I am here. The King of -Navarre desires only, sire--' - -'Tut, tut!' he exclaimed impatiently, and with some displeasure, -'I know his will better than you, man. But you see,' he -continued cunningly, forgetting my inferior position as quickly -as he had remembered it, 'Turenne promises well, too. And -Turenne--it is true he may play the Lorrainer. But if I trust -Henry of Navarre, and he prove false to me--' - -He did not complete the sentence, but strode to and fro a time or -two, his mind, which had a natural inclination towards crooked -courses, bent on some scheme by which he might play off the one -party against the other. Apparently he was not very successful -in finding one, however; or else the ill-luck with which he had -supported the League against the Huguenots recurred to his mind. -For he presently stopped, with a sigh, and came back to the -point. - -'If I knew that Turenne were lying,' be muttered, 'then indeed--. -But Rosny promised evidence, and he has sent me none.' - -'It is at hand, sire,' I answered, my heart beginning to beat, -'Your Majesty will remember that M. de Rosny honoured me with the -task of introducing it to you.' - -'To be sure,' he replied, awaking as from a dream, and looking -and speaking eagerly. Matters to-day have driven everything out -of my head. Where is your witness, man? Convince me, and we -will act promptly. We will give them Jarnac and Moncontour over -again. Is he outside?' - -'It is a woman, sire,' I made answer, dashed somewhat by his -sudden and feverish alacrity. - -'A woman, eh? You have her here?' - -'No, sire,' I replied, wondering what he would say to my next -piece of information. 'She is in Blois, she has arrived, but the -truth is--I humbly crave your Majesty's indulgence--she refuses -to come or speak. I cannot well bring her here by force, and I -have sought you, sire, for the purpose of taking your commands in -the matter.' - -He stared at me in the utmost astonishment. - -'Is she young?' he asked after a long pause. - -'Yes, sire,' I answered. 'She is maid of honour to the Princess -of Navarre, and a ward also of the Vicomte de Turenne.' - -'Gad! then she is worth hearing, the little rebel!' he replied. -'A ward Of Turenne's is she? Ho! ho! And now she will not -speak? My cousin of Navarre now would know how to bring her to -her senses, but I have eschewed these vanities. I might send and -have her brought, it is true; but a very little thing would cause -a barricade to-night.' - -'And besides, sire,' I ventured to add, 'she is known to -Turenne's people here, who have once stolen her away. Were she -brought to your Majesty with any degree of openness, they would -learn it, and know that the game was lost.' - -'Which would not suit me,' he answered, nodding and looking at me -gloomily. 'They might anticipate our Jarnac; and until we have -settled matters with one or the other our person is not too -secure. You must go and fetch her. She is at your lodging. She -must be brought, man.' - -'I will do what you command, sire,' I answered. 'But I am -greatly afraid that she will not come.' - -He lost his temper at that. 'Then why, in the devil's name, have -you troubled me with the matter?' he cried savagely. 'God -knows--I don't--why Rosny employed such a man and such a woman. -He might have seen from the cut of your cloak, sir, which is full -six months behind the fashion, that you could not manage a woman! -Was ever such damnable folly heard of in this world? But it is -Navarre's loss, not mine. It is his loss. And I hope to Heaven -it may be yours too!' he added fiercely. - -There was so much in what he said that I bent before the storm, -and accepted with humility blame which was as natural on his part -as it was undeserved on mine. Indeed I could not wonder at his -Majesty's anger; nor should I have wondered at it in a greater -man. I knew that but for reasons, on which I did not wish to -dwell, I should have shared it to the full, and spoken quite as -strongly of the caprice which ruined hopes and lives for a whim. - -The king continued for some time to say to me all the hard things -he could think of. Wearied at last by my patience, he paused, -and cried angrily. 'Well, have you nothing; to say for yourself? -Can you suggest nothing?' - -'I dare not mention to your Majesty,' I said humbly, 'what seems -to me to be the only alternative.' - -'You mean that I should go to the wench!' he answered--for he -did not lack quickness. '"SE NON VA EL OTERO A MAHOMA, VAYA -MAHOMA AL OTERO," as Mendoza says. But the saucy quean, to force -me to go to her! Did my wife guess--but there, I will go. By -God I will go!' he added abruptly and fiercely. 'I will live to -ruin Retz yet! Where is your lodging?' - -I told him, wondering much at this flash of the old spirit, which -twenty years before had won him a reputation his later life did -nothing to sustain. - -'Do you know,' he asked, speaking with sustained energy and -clearness, 'the door by which M. de Rosny entered to talk with -me? Can you find it in the dark?' - -'Yes, sire,' I answered, my heart beating high. - -'Then be in waiting there two hours before midnight,' he replied. -'Be well armed, but alone. I shall know how to make the girl -speak. I can trust you, I suppose?' he added suddenly, stepping -nearer to me and looking fixedly into my eyes. - -'I will answer for your Majesty's life with my own,' I replied, -sinking on one knee. - -'I believe you, sir,' he answered gravely, giving me his hand to -kiss, and then turning away. 'So be it. Now leave me. You have -been here too long already. Not a word to any one as you value -your life.' - -I made fitting answer and was leaving him; but when I had my head -already on the curtain, he called me back. 'In Heaven's name get -a new cloak!' he said peevishly, eyeing me all over with his -face puckered up. 'Get a new cloak, man, the first thing in the -morning. It is worse seen from the side than the front. It -would ruin the cleverest courtier of them all!' - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -A ROYAL PERIL. - -The elation with which I had heard the king announce his -resolution quickly diminished on cooler reflection. It stood in -particular at a very low ebb as I waited, an hour later, at the -little north postern of the Castle, and, cowering within the -shelter of the arch to escape the wind, debated whether his -Majesty's energy would sustain him to the point of action, or -whether he might not, in one of those fits of treacherous -vacillation which had again and again marred his plans, send -those to keep the appointment who would give a final account of -me. The longer I considered his character the more dubious I -grew. The loneliness of the situation, the darkness, the black -front, unbroken by any glimmer of light, which the Castle -presented on this side, and the unusual and gloomy stillness -which lay upon the town, all contributed to increase my -uneasiness. It was with apprehension as well as relief that I -caught at last the sound of footsteps on the stone staircase, -and, standing a little to one side, saw a streak of light appear -at the foot of the door. - -On the latter being partially opened a voice cried my name. I -advanced with caution and showed myself. A brief conversation -ensued between two or three persons who stood within; but in the -end, a masked figure, which I had no difficulty in identifying as -the king, stepped briskly out. - -'You are armed?' he said, pausing a second opposite me. - -I put back my cloak and showed him, by the light which streamed -from the doorway, that I carried pistols as well as a sword. - -'Good!' he answered briefly; 'then let us go. Do you walk on my -left hand, my friend. It is a dark night, is it not?' - -'Very dark, sire,' I said. - -He made no answer to this, and we started, proceeding with -caution until we had crossed the narrow bridge, and then with -greater freedom and at a better pace. The slenderness of the -attendance at Court that evening, and the cold wind, which swept -even the narrowest streets and drove roisterers indoors, rendered -it unlikely that we should be stopped or molested by any except -professed thieves; and for these I was prepared. The king showed -no inclination to talk; and keeping silence myself out of -respect, I had time to calculate the chances and to consider -whether his Majesty would succeed where I had failed. - -This calculation, which was not inconsistent with the keenest -watchfulness on my part whenever we turned a corner or passed the -mouth of an alley, was brought to an end by our safe arrival at -the house. Briefly apologising to the king for the meanness and -darkness of the staircase, I begged leave to precede him, and -rapidly mounted until I met Maignan. Whispering to him that all -was well, I did not wait to hear his answer, but, bidding him be -on the watch, I led the king on with as much deference as was -possible until we stood. at the door of mademoiselle's -apartment, which I have elsewhere stated to consist of an outer -and inner room. The door was opened by Simon Fleix, and him I -promptly sent out. Then, standing aside and uncovering, I begged -the king to enter. - -He did so, still wearing his hat and mask, and I followed and -secured the door. A lamp hanging from the ceiling diffused an -imperfect light through the room, which was smaller but more -comfortable in appearance than that which I rented overhead. I -observed that Fanchette, whose harsh countenance looked more -forbidding than usual, occupied a stool which she had set in a -strange fashion against the Inner door; but I thought no more of -this at the moment, my attention passing quickly to mademoiselle, -who sat crouching before the fire, enveloped in a large outdoor -cloak, as if she felt the cold. Her back was towards us, and she -was, or pretended to be, still ignorant of our presence. With a -muttered word I pointed her out to the king, and went towards her -with him. - -'Mademoiselle, I said in a low voice, 'Mademoiselle de la Vire! -I have the honour--' - -She would not turn, and I stopped. Clearly she heard, but she -betrayed that she did so only by drawing her cloak more closely -round her. Primed by my respect for the king, I touched her -lightly on tile shoulder. 'Mademoiselle!' I said impatiently, -'you are not aware of it, but--' - -She shook herself free from my hand with so rude a gesture that I -broke off, and stood gazing foolishly at her. The king smiled, -and nodding to me to step back a pace, took the task on himself. -'Mademoiselle,' he said with dignity, 'I am not accustomed--' - -His voice had a magical effect. Before he could add another word -she sprang up as if she had been struck, and faced us, a cry of -alarm on her lips. Simultaneously we both cried out too, for it -was not mademoiselle at all. The woman who confronted us, her -hand on her mask, her eyes glittering through the slits, was of a -taller and fuller figure. We stared at her. Then a lock of -bright golden hair which had escaped from the hood of her cloak -gave us the clue. 'Madame!' the king cried. - -'Madame de Bruhl!' I echoed, my astonishment greater than his. - -Seeing herself known, she began with trembling fingers to undo -the fastenings of her mask; but the king, who had hitherto -displayed a trustfulness I had not expected in him, had taken -alarm at sight of her, as at a thing unlooked for, and of which I -had not warned him. 'How is this?' he said harshly, drawing -back a pace from her and regarding me with anger and distrust. -'Is this some pretty arrangement of yours, sir? Am I an intruder -at an assignation, or is this a trap with M. de Bruhl in the -background? Answer, sirrah!' he continued, working himself -rapidly into a passion. 'Which am I to understand is the case?' - -'Neither, sire,' I answered with as much dignity as I could -assume, utterly surprised and mystified as I was by Madame's -presence. 'Your Majesty wrongs Madame de Bruhl as much by the -one suspicion as you injure me by the other. I am equally in the -dark with you, sire, and as little expected to see madame here.' - -'I came, sire,' she said proudly, addressing herself to the king, -and ignoring me, 'out of no love to M. de Marsac, but as any -person bearing a message to him might come. Nor can you, sire,' -she added with spirit, 'feel half as much surprise at seeing me -here, as I at seeing your Majesty.' - -'I can believe that,' the king answered drily. 'I would you had -not seen me.' - -'The King of France is seen only when he chooses,' she replied, -curtseying to the ground. - -'Good,' he answered. 'Let it be so, and you will oblige the King -of France, madame. But enough,' he continued, turning from her -to me; 'since this is not the lady I came to see, M. de Marsac, -where is she?' - -'In the inner room, sire, I opine,' I said, advancing to -Fanchette with more misgiving at heart than my manner evinced. -'Your mistress is here, is she not?' I continued, addressing the -woman sharply. - -'Ay, and will not come out,' she rejoined, sturdily keeping her -place. - -'Nonsense!' I said. 'Tell her--' - -'You may tell her what you please,' she replied, refusing to -budge an inch. 'She can hear.' - -'But, woman!' I cried impatiently, 'you do not understand. I -MUST speak with her. I must speak with her at once! On business -of the highest importance.' - -'As you please,' she said rudely, still keeping her seat. 'I -have told you you can speak.' - -Perhaps I felt as foolish on this occasion as ever in my life; -and surely never was man placed in a more ridiculous position. -After overcoming numberless obstacles, and escaping as many -perils, I had brought the king here, a feat beyond my highest -hopes--only to be baffled and defeated by a waiting-woman! I -stood irresolute; witless and confused; while the king waited -half angry and half amused, and madame kept her place by the -entrance, to which she had retreated. - -I was delivered from my dilemma by the curiosity which is, -providentially perhaps, a part of woman's character, and which -led mademoiselle to interfere herself. Keenly on the watch -inside, she had heard part of what passed between us, and been -rendered inquisitive by the sound of a strange man's voice, and -by the deference which she could discern I paid to the visitor. -At this moment, she cried out, accordingly, to know who was -there; and Fanchette, seeming to take this as a command, rose and -dragged her stool aside, saying peevishly and without any -increase of respect, 'There, I told you she could hear.' - -'Who is it?' mademoiselle asked again, in a raised voice. - -I was about to answer when the king signed to me to stand back, -and, advancing himself, knocked gently on the door. 'Open, I -pray you, mademoiselle,' he said courteously. - -'Who is there?' she cried again, her voice trembling. - -'It is I, the king,' he answered softly; but in that tone of -majesty which belongs not to the man, but to the descendant, and -seems to be the outcome of centuries of command. - -She uttered an exclamation and slowly, and with seeming -reluctance, turned the key in the lock. It grated, and the door -opened. I caught a glimpse for an instant of her pale face and -bright eyes, and then his Majesty, removing his hat, passed in -and closed the door; and I withdrew to the farther end of the -room, where madame continued to stand by the entrance. - -I entertained a suspicion, I remember, and not unnaturally, that -she had come to my lodging as her husband's spy; but her first -words when I joined her dispelled this. 'Quick!' she said with -an imperious gesture. 'Hear me and let me go! I have waited -long enough for you, and suffered enough through you. As for -that, woman in there, she is mad, and her servant too! Now, -listen to me. You spoke to me honestly to-day, and I have come -to repay you. You have an appointment with my husband to-morrow -at Chaverny. Is it not so?' she added impatiently. - -I replied that it was so. - -'You are to go with one friend,' she went on, tearing the glove -she had taken off, to strips in her excitement, 'He is to meet -you with one also?' - -'Yes,' I assented reluctantly, 'at the bridge, madame.' - -'Then do not go,' she rejoined emphatically. 'Shame on me that I -should betray my husband; but it were worse to send an innocent -man to his death. He will meet you with one sword only, -according to his challenge, but there will be those under the -bridge who will make certain work. There, I have betrayed him -now!' she continued bitterly. 'It is done. Let me go!' - -'Nay, but, madame,' I said, feeling more concerned for her, on -whom from the first moment of meeting her I had brought nothing -but misfortune, than surprised by this new treachery on his part, -'will you not run some risk in returning to him? Is there -nothing I can do for you--no step I can take for your -protection?' - -'None!' she said repellently and almost rudely, 'except to speed -my going.' - -'But you will not pass through the streets alone?' - -She laughed so bitterly my heart ached for her. 'The unhappy are -always safe,' she said. - -Remembering how short a time it was since I had surprised her in -the first happiness of wedded love, I felt for her all the pity -it was natural I should feel. But the responsibility under which -his Majesty's presence and the charge of mademoiselle laid me -forbade me to indulge in the luxury of evincing my gratitude. -Gladly would I have escorted her back to her home--even if I -could not make that home again what it had been, or restore her -husband to the pinnacle from which I had dashed him--but I dared -not do this. I was forced to content myself with less, and was -about to offer to send one of my men with her, when a hurried -knocking at the outer door arrested the words on my lips. - -Signing to her to stand still, I listened. The knocking was -repeated, and grew each moment more urgent. There was a little -grille, strongly wired, in the upper part of the door, and this I -was about to open in order to learn what was amiss, when Simon's -voice reached me from the farther side imploring me to open the -door quickly. Doubting the lad's prudence, yet afraid to refuse -lest I should lose some warning he had to give, I paused a -second, and then undid the fastenings. The moment the door gave -way he fell in bodily, crying out to me to bar it behind him. I -caught a glimpse through the gap of a glare as of torches, and -saw by this light half a dozen flushed faces in the act of rising -above the edge of the landing. The men who owned them raised a -shout of triumph at sight of me, and, clearing the upper steps at -a bound, made a rush for the door. But in vain. We had just -time to close it and drop the two stout bars. In a moment, in a -second, the fierce outcry fell to a dull roar; and safe for the -time, we had leisure to look in one another's faces and learn the -different aspects of alarm. Madame was white to the lips, while -Simon's eyes seemed starting from his head, and he shook in every -limb with terror. - -At first, on my asking him what it meant, he could not speak. -But that would not do, and I was in the act of seizing him by the -collar to force an answer from him when the inner door opened, -and the king came out, his face wearing an air of so much -cheerfulness as proved both his satisfaction with mademoiselle's -story and his ignorance of all we were about. In a word he had -not yet taken the least alarm; but seeing Simon in my hands, and -madame leaning against the wall by the door like one deprived of -life, he stood and cried out in surprise to know what it was. - -'I fear we are besieged, sire,' I answered desperately, feeling -my anxieties increased a hundredfold by his appearance--'but by -whom I cannot say. This lad knows, however,' I continued, giving -Simon, a vicious shake, 'and he shall speak. Now, trembler,' I -said to him, 'tell your tale?' - -'The Provost-Marshal!' he stammered, terrified afresh by the -king's presence: for Henry had removed his mask. 'I was on -guard below. I had come up a few steps to be out of the cold, -when I heard them enter. There are a round score of them.' - -I cried out a great oath, asking him why he had not gone up and -warned Maignan, who with his men was now cut off from us in the -rooms above. 'You fool!' I continued, almost beside myself with -rage, 'if you had not come to this door they would have mounted -to my rooms and beset them! What is this folly about the -Provost-Marshal?' - -'He is there,' Simon answered, cowering away from me, his face -working. - -I thought he was lying, and had merely fancied this in his -fright. But the assailants at this moment began to hail blows on -the door, calling on us to open, and using such volleys of -threats as penetrated even the thickness of the oak; driving the -blood from the women's cheeks, and arresting the king's step in a -manner which did not escape me. Among their cries I could -plainly distinguish the words, 'In the king's name!' which bore -out Simon's statement. - -At the moment I drew comfort from this; for if we had merely to -deal with the law we had that on our side which was above it. -And I speedily made up my mind what to do. 'I think the lad -speaks the truth, sire,' I said coolly. 'This is only your -Majesty's Provost-Marshal. The worst to be feared, therefore, is -that he may learn your presence here before you would have it -known. It should not be a matter of great difficulty, however, -to bind him to silence, and if you will please to mask, I will -open the grille and speak with him.' - -The king, who had taken his stand in the middle of the room, and -seemed dazed and confused by the suddenness of the alarm and the -uproar, assented with a brief word. Accordingly I was preparing -to open the grille when Madame de Bruhl seized my arm, and -forcibly pushed me back from it. - -'What would you do?' she cried, her face full of terror. 'Do -you not hear? He is there.' - -'Who is there?' I said, startled more by her manner than her -words. - -'Who?' she answered; 'who should be there? My husband! I hear -his voice, I tell you! He has tracked me here! He has found me, -and will kill me!' - -'God forbid!' I said, doubting if she had really heard his -voice. To make sure, I asked Simon if he had seen him; and my -heart sank when I heard from him too that Bruhl was of the party. -For the first time I became fully sensible of the danger which -threatened us. For the first time, looking round the ill-lit -room on the women's terrified faces, and the king's masked figure -instinct with ill-repressed nervousness, I recognised how -hopelessly we were enmeshed. Fortune had served Bruhl so well -that, whether he knew it or not, he had us all trapped--alike the -king whom he desired to compromise, and his wife whom he hated, -mademoiselle who had once escaped him, and me who had twice -thwarted him. It was little to be wondered at if my courage sank -as I looked from one to another, and listened to the ominous -creaking of the door, as the stout panels complained under the -blows rained upon them. For my first duty, and that which took -the PAS of all others, was to the king--to save him harmless. -How, then, was I to be answerable for mademoiselle, how protect -Madame de Bruhl?--how, in a word, redeem all those pledges in -which my honour was concerned? - -It was the thought of the Provost-Marshal which at this moment -rallied my failing spirits. I remembered that until the mystery -of his presence here in alliance with Bruhl was explained there -was no need to despair; and turning briskly to the king I begged -him to favour me by standing with the women in a corner which was -not visible from the door. He complied mechanically, and in a -manner which I did not like; but lacking time to weigh trifles, I -turned to the grille and opened it without more ado. - -The appearance of my face at the trap was greeted with a savage -cry of recognition, which subsided as quickly into silence. It -was followed by a momentary pushing to and fro among the crowd -outside, which in its turn ended in the Provost-Marshal coming to -the front. 'In the king's name!' he said fussily. - -'What is it?' I replied, eyeing rather the flushed, eager faces -which scowled over his shoulders than himself. The light of two -links, borne by some of the party, shone ruddily on the heads of -the halberds, and, flaring up from time to time, filled all the -place with wavering, smoky light. 'What do you want?' I -continued, 'rousing my lodging at this time of night?' - -'I hold a warrant for your arrest,' he replied bluntly. -'Resistance will be vain. If you do not surrender I shall send -for a ram to break in the door.' - -'Where is your order?' I said sharply. 'The one you held this -morning was cancelled by the king himself.' - -'Suspended only,' he answered. 'Suspended only. It was given -out to me again this evening for instant execution. And I am -here in pursuance of it, and call on you to surrender.' - -'Who delivered it to you?' I retorted. - -'M. de Villequier,' he answered readily. 'And here it is. Now, -come, sir,' he continued, 'you are only making matters worse. -Open to us.' - -'Before I do so,' I said drily, 'I should like to know what part -in the pageant my friend M. de Bruhl, whom I see on the stairs -yonder, proposes to play. And there is my old friend Fresnoy,' I -added. 'And I see one or two others whom I know, M. Provost. -Before I surrender I must know among other things what M. de -Bruhl's business is here.' - -'It is the business of every loyal man to execute the king's -warrant,' the Provost answered evasively. 'It is yours to -surrender, and mine to lodge you in the Castle. 'But I am loth -to have a disturbance. I will give you until that torch goes -out, if you like, to make up your mind. At the end of that time, -if you do not surrender, I shall batter down the door.' - -'You will give the torch fair play?' I said, noting its -condition. - -He assented; and thanking him sternly for this indulgence, I -closed the grille. - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -TERMS OF SURRENDER. - -I still had my hand on the trap when a touch on the shoulder -caused me to turn, and in a moment apprised me of the imminence -of a new peril; a peril of such a kind that, summoning all my -resolution, I could scarcely hope to cope with it. Henry was at -my elbow. He had taken of his mask, and a single glance at his -countenance warned me that that had happened of which I had -already felt some fear. The glitter of intense excitement shone -in his eyes. His face, darkly-flushed and wet with sweat, -betrayed overmastering emotion, while his teeth, tight clenched -in the effort to restrain the fit of trembling which possessed -him, showed between his lips like those of a corpse. The novelty -of the danger which menaced him, the absence of his gentlemen, -and of all the familiar faces and surroundings without which he -never moved, the hour, the mean house, and his isolation among -strangers, had proved too much for nerves long weakened by his -course of living, and for a courage, proved indeed in the field, -but unequal to a sudden stress. Though he still strove to -preserve his dignity, it was alarmingly plain to my eyes that he -was on the point of losing, if he had not already lost, all self- -command. - -'Open!' he muttered between his teeth, pointing impatiently to -the trap with the hand with which he had already touched me. -'Open, I say, sir!' - -I stared at him, startled and confounded. 'But your Majesty,' I -ventured to stammer, 'forgets that I have not yet--' - -'Open, I say!' he repeated passionately. 'Do you hear me, sir? -I desire that this door be opened.' His lean hand shook as with -the palsy, so that the gems on it twinkled in the light and -rattled as he spoke. - -I looked helplessly from him to the women and back again, seeing -in a flash all. the dangers which might follow from the -discovery of his presence there--dangers which I had not before -formulated to myself, but which seemed in a moment to range -themselves with the utmost clearness before my eyes. At the same -time I saw what seemed to me to be a way of escape; and -emboldened by the one and the other, I kept my hand on the trap -and strove to parley with him. - -'Nay, but, sire,' I said hurriedly, yet still with as much -deference as I could command, 'I beg you to permit me first to -repeat what I have seen. M. de Bruhl is without, and I counted -six men whom I believe to be his following. They are ruffians -ripe for any crime; and I implore your Majesty rather to submit -to a short imprisonment--' - -I paused struck dumb on that word, confounded by the passion -which lightened in the king's face. My ill-chosen expression had -indeed applied the spark to his wrath. Predisposed to suspicion -by a hundred treacheries, he forgot the perils outside in the one -idea which on the instant possessed his mind; that I would -confine his person, and had brought him hither for no other -purpose. He glared round him with eyes full of rage and fear, -and his trembling lips breathed rather than spoke the word -'Imprison?' - -Unluckily, a trifling occurrence added at this moment to his -disorder, and converted it into frenzy. Someone outside fell -heavily against the door; this, causing madame to utter a low -shriek, seemed to shatter the last remnant of the king's self- -control. Stamping his foot on the floor, he cried to me with the -utmost wildness to open the door--by which I had hitherto kept my -place. - -But, wrongly or rightly, I was still determined to put off -opening it; and I raised my hands with the intention of making a -last appeal to him. He misread the gesture, and retreating a -step, with the greatest suddenness whipped out his sword, and in -a moment had the point at my breast, and his wrist drawn back to -thrust. - -It has always been my belief that he would not have dealt the -blow, but that the mere touch of the hilt, awaking the courage -which he undoubtedly possessed, and which did not desert him in -his last moments, would have recalled him to himself. But the -opportunity was not given him, for while the blade yet quivered, -and I stood motionless, controlling myself by an effort, my knee -half bent and my eyes on his, Mademoiselle de la Vire sprang -forward at his back, and with a loud scream clutched his elbow. -The king, surprised, and ignorant who held him, flung up his -point wildly, and striking the lamp above his head with his -blade, shattered it in an instant, bringing down the pottery with -a crash and reducing the room to darkness; while the screams of -the women, and the knowledge that we had a madman among us, -peopled, the blackness with a hundred horrors. - -Fearing above all for mademoiselle, I made my way as soon as I -could recover my wits to the embers of the fire, and regardless -of the king's sword, which I had a vague idea was darting about -in the darkness, I searched for and found a half-burnt stick, -which I blew into a blaze. With this, still keeping my back to -the room, I contrived to light a taper that I had noticed -standing by the hearth; and then, and then only, I turned to see -what I had to confront. - -Mademoiselle de la Vire stood in a corner, half-fierce, half- -terrified, and wholly flushed. She had her hand wrapped up in a -'kerchief already stained with blood; and from this I gathered -that the king in his frenzy had wounded her slightly. Standing -before her mistress, with her hair bristling, like a wild-cat's -fur, and her arms akimbo, was Fanchette, her harsh face and -square form instinct with fury and defiance. Madame de Bruhl and -Simon cowered against the wall not far from them; and in a chair, -into which he had apparently just thrown himself, sat the king, -huddled up and collapsed, the point of his sword trailing on the -ground beside him, and his nerveless hand scarce retaining force -to grip the pommel. - -In a moment I made up my mind what to do, and going to him in -silence, I laid my pistols, sword, and dagger on a stool by his -side. Then I knelt. - -'The door, sire,' I said, 'is there. It is for your Majesty to -open it when you please. Here, too, sire, are my weapons. I am -your prisoner, the Provost-Marshal is outside, and you can at a -word deliver me to him. Only one thing I beg, sire,' I continued -earnestly, 'that your Majesty will treat; as a delusion the idea -that I meditated for a moment disrespect or violence to your -person.' - -He looked at me dully, his face pale, his eyes fish-like. -'Sanctus, man!' he muttered, 'why did you raise your hand?' - -'Only to implore your Majesty to pause a moment,' I answered, -watching the intelligence return slowly to his face. 'If you -will deign to listen I can explain in half a dozen words, sire. -M. de Bruhl's men are six or seven, the Provost has eight or -nine; but the former are the wilder blades, and if M. de Bruhl -find your Majesty in my lodging, and infer his own defeat, he -will be capable of any desperate stroke. Your person would -hardly be safe in his company through the streets. And there is -another consideration,' I went on, observing with joy that the -king listened, and was gradually regaining his composure. 'That -is, the secrecy you desired to preserve, sire, until this matter -should be well advanced. M. de Rosny laid the strictest -injunctions on me in that respect, fearing an EMEUTE in Blois -should your Majesty's plans become known.' - -'You speak fairly,' the king answered with returning energy, -though he avoided looking at the women. 'Bruhl is likely enough -to raise one. But how am I to get out, sir?' he continued, -querulously. 'I cannot remain here. I shall be missed, man! I -am not a hedge-captain, neither sought nor wanted!' - -'If your Majesty would trust me?' I said slowly and with -hesitation. - -'Trust you!' he retorted peevishly, holding up his hands and -gazing intently at his nails, of the shape and whiteness of which -he was prouder than any woman. 'Have I not trusted you? If I had -not trusted you, should I have been here? But that you were a -Huguenot--God forgive me for saying it!--I would have seen you in -hell before I would have come here with you!' - -I confess to having heard this testimony to the Religion with a -pride which made me forget for a moment the immediate -circumstances--the peril in which we stood, the gloomy room -darkly lighted by a single candle, the scared faces in the -background, even the king's huddled figure, in which dejection -and pride struggled for expression. For a moment only; then I -hastened to reply, saying that I doubted not I could still -extricate his Majesty without discovery. - -'In Heaven's name do it, then!' he answered sharply. 'Do what -you like, man! Only get me back into the castle, and it shall -not be a Huguenot will entice me out again. I am over old for -these adventures!' - -A fresh attack on the door taking place as he said this induced -me to lose no time in explaining my plan, which he was good -enough to approve, after again upbraiding me for bringing him -into such a dilemma. Fearing lest the door should give way -prematurely, notwithstanding the bars I had provided for it, and -goaded on by Madame de Bruhl's face, which evinced the utmost -terror, I took the candle and attended his Majesty into the inner -room; where I placed my pistols beside him, but silently resumed -my sword and dagger. I then returned for the women, and -indicating by signs that they were to enter, held the door open -for them. - -Mademoiselle, whose bandaged hand I could not regard without -emotion, though the king's presence and the respect I owed him -forbade me to utter so much as a word, advanced readily until she -reached the doorway abreast of me. There, however, looking back, -and seeing Madame de Bruhl following her, she stopped short, and -darting a haughty glance at me, muttered, 'And--that lady? Are -we to be shut up together, sir?' - -'Mademoiselle,' I answered quickly in the low tone she had used -herself, 'have I ever asked anything dishonourable of you?' - -She seemed by a slight movement of the head to answer in the -negative. - -'Nor do I now,' I replied with earnestness. 'I entrust to your -care a lady who has risked great peril for US; and the rest I -leave to you.' - -She looked me very keenly in the face for a second, and then, -without answering, she passed on, Madame and Fanchette following -her in that order. I closed the door and turned to Simon; who by -my direction had blown the embers of the fire into a blaze so as -to partially illumine the room, in which only he and I now -remained. The lad seemed afraid to meet my eye, and owing to the -scene at which he had just assisted, or to the onslaught on the -door, which grew each moment more furious, betrayed greater -restlessness than I had lately observed in him. I did not doubt -his fidelity, however, or his devotion to mademoiselle; and the -orders I had to give him were simple enough. - -'This is what you have got to do,' I said, my hand already on the -bars. 'The moment I am outside secure this door. After that, -open to no one except Maignan. When he applies, let him in with -caution, and bid him, as he loves M. de Rosny, take his men as -soon as the coast is clear, and guard the King of France to the -castle. Charge him to be brave and wary, for his life will -answer for the king's.' - -Twice I repeated this; then fearing lest the Provost-Marshal -should make good his word and apply a ram to the door, I opened -the trap. A dozen angry voices hailed my appearance, and this -with so much violence and impatience that it was some time before -I could get a hearing; the knaves threatening me if I would not -instantly open, and persisting that I should do so without more -words. Their leader at length quieted them, but it was plain -that his patience too was worn out. 'Do you surrender or do you -not?' he said. 'I am not going to stay out of my bed all night -for you!' - -'I warn you,' I answered, 'that the order you have there has been -cancelled by the king!' - -'That is not my business,' he rejoined hardily. - -'No, but it will be when the king sends for you to-morrow -morning,' I retorted; at which he looked somewhat moved. -'However, I will surrender to you on two conditions,' I -continued, keenly observing the coarse faces of his following. -'First, that you let me keep my arms until we reach the gate- -house, I giving you my parole to come with you quietly. That is -number one.' - -'Well,' the Provost-Marshal said more civilly, 'I have no -objection to that.' - -'Secondly, that you do not allow your men to break into my -lodgings. I will come out quietly, and so an end. Your order -does not direct you to sack my goods.' - -'Tut, tut!' he replied; 'I want, you to come out. I do not want -to go in.' - -'Then draw your men back to the stairs,' I said. 'And if you -keep terms with me, I will uphold you to-morrow, For your orders -will certainly bring you into trouble. M. de Retz, who procured -it this morning, is away, you know. M. de Villequier may be gone -to-morrow. But depend upon it, M. de Rambouillet will be here!' - -The remark was well timed and to the point. It startled the man -as much as I had hoped it would. Without raising any objection -he ordered his men to fall back and guard the stairs; and I on my -side began to undo the fastenings of the door. - -The matter was not to be so easily concluded, however; for -Bruhl's rascals, in obedience, no doubt, to a sign given by their -leader, who stood with Fresnoy on the upper flight of stairs, -refused to withdraw; and even hustled the Provost-Marshal's men -when the latter would have obeyed the order. The officer, -already heated by delay, replied by laying about him with his -staff, and in a twinkling there seemed to be every prospect of a -very pretty MELEE, the end of which it was impossible to foresee. - -Reflecting, however, that if Bruhl's men routed their opponents -our position might be made worse rather than better, I did not -act on my first impulse, which was to see the matter out where I -was. Instead, I seized the opportunity to let myself out, while -Simon fastened the door behind me. The Provost-Marshal was -engaged at the moment in a wordy dispute with Fresnoy; whose -villainous countenance, scarred by the wound which I had given -him at Chize, and flushed with passion, looked its worst by the -light of the single torch which remained. In one respect the -villain had profited by his present patronage, for he was decked -out in a style of tawdry magnificence. But I have always -remarked this about dress, that while a shabby exterior does not -entirely obscure a gentleman, the extreme of fashion is powerless -to gild a knave. - -Seeing me on a sudden at the Provost's elbow, he recoiled with a -change of countenance so ludicrous that that officer was himself -startled, and only held his ground on my saluting him civilly and -declaring myself his prisoner I added a warning that he should -look to the torch which remained; seeing that if it failed we -were both like to have our throats cut in the confusion. - -He took the hint promptly, and calling the link-man to his side -prepared to descend, bidding Fresnoy and his men, who remained -clumped at the head of the stairs, make way for us without ado. -They seemed much inclined, however, to dispute our passage, and -replying to his invectives with rough taunts, displayed so -hostile a demeanour that the Provost, between regard for his own -importance and respect for Bruhl, appeared for a moment at a loss -what to do; and seemed rather relieved than annoyed when I begged -leave to say a word to M. de Bruhl. - -'If you can bring his men to reason,' he replied testily, 'speak -your fill to him!' - -Stepping to the foot of the upper flight, on which Bruhl retained -his position, I saluted him formally. He returned my greeting -with a surly, watchful look only, and drawing his cloak more -tightly round him affected to gaze down at me with disdain; which -ill concealed, however, both the triumph he felt and the hopes of -vengeance he entertained. I was especially anxious to learn -whether he had tracked his wife hither, or was merely here in -pursuance of his general schemes against me, and to this end. I -asked him with as much irony as I could compass to what I was to -attribute his presence. 'I am afraid I cannot stay to offer you -hospitality,' I continued; 'but for that you have only your -friend M. Villequier to thank!' - -'I am greatly obliged to you,' he answered with a devilish smile, -'but do not let that affect you. When you are gone I propose to -help myself, my friend, to whatever takes my taste.' - -'Do you?' I retorted coolly--not that I was unaffected by the -threat and the villainous hint which underlay the words, but -that, fully expecting them, I was ready with my answer. 'We will -see about that.' And therewith I raised my fingers to my lips, -and, whistling shrilly, cried 'Maignan! Maignan!' in a clear -voice. - -I had no need to cry the name a third time, for before the -Provost-Marshal could do more than start at this unexpected -action, the landing above us rang under a heavy tread, and the -man I called, descending the stairs swiftly, appeared on a sudden -within arm's length of M. de Bruhl; who, turning with an oath, -saw him, and involuntarily recoiled. At all times Maignan's -hardy and confident bearing was of a kind to impress the strong; -but on this occasion there was an added dash of recklessness in -his manner which was not without its effect on the spectators. -As he stood there smiling darkly over Bruhl's head, while his -hand toyed carelessly with his dagger, and the torch shone -ruddily on his burly figure, he was so clearly an antagonist in a -thousand that, had I sought through Blois, I might not have found -his fellow for strength and SANG-FROID. He let his black eyes -rove from one to the other, but took heed of me only, saluting me -with effusion and a touch of the Gascon which was in place here, -if ever. - -I knew how M. de Rosny dealt with him, and followed the pattern -as far as I could. 'Maignan!' I said curtly, 'I have taken a -lodging for to-night elsewhere. Then I am gone you will call out -your men and watch this door. If anyone tries to force an -entrance you will do your duty.' - -'You may consider it done,' he replied. - -'Even if the person be M. de Bruhl here,' I continued. - -'Precisely.' - -'You will remain on guard,' I went on, 'until to-morrow morning -if M. de Bruhl remains here; but whenever he leaves you will take -your orders from the persons inside, and follow them implicitly.' - -'Your Excellency's mind may be easy,' he answered, handling his -dagger. - -Dismissing him with a nod, I turned with a smile to M. de Bruhl, -and saw that between rage at this unexpected check and chagrin at -the insult put upon him, his discomfiture was as complete as I -could wish. As for Fresnoy, if he had seriously intended to -dispute our passage, he was no longer in the mood for the -attempt. Yet I did not let his master off without one more -prick. 'That being settled, M. de Bruhl,' I said pleasantly, 'I -may bid you good evening. You will doubtless honour me at -Chaverny tomorrow. But we will first let Maignan look under the -bridge!' - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -MEDITATIONS. - -Either the small respect I had paid M. de Bruhl, or the words I -had let fall respecting the possible disappearance of M. -Villequier, had had so admirable an effect on the Provost- -Marshal's mind that from the moment of leaving my lodgings he -treated me with the utmost civility; permitting me even to retain -my sword, and assigning me a sleeping-place for the night in his -own apartments at the gate-house. - -Late as it was, I could not allow so much politeness to pass -unacknowledged. I begged leave, therefore, to distribute a small -gratuity among his attendants, and requested him to do me the -honour of drinking a bottle of wine with me. This being speedily -procured, at such an expense as is usual in these places, where -prisoners pay, according as they are rich or poor, in purse or -person, kept; us sitting for an hour, and finally sent us to our -pallets perfectly satisfied with one another. - -The events of the day, however, and particularly one matter, on -which I have not dwelt at length, proved as effectual to prevent -my sleeping as if I had been placed in the dampest cell below the -castle. So much had been crowded into a time so short that it -seemed as if I had had until now no opportunity of considering -whither I was being hurried, or what fortune awaited me at the -end of this turmoil. From the first appearance of M. d'Agen in -the morning, with the startling news that the Provost-Marshal was -seeking me, to my final surrender and encounter with Bruhl on the -stairs, the chain of events had run out so swiftly that I had -scarcely had time at any particular period to consider how I -stood, or the full import of the latest check or victory. Now -that I had leisure I lived the day over again, and, recalling its -dangers and disappointments, felt thankful that all had ended so -fairly. - -I had the most perfect confidence in Maignan, and did not doubt -that Bruhl would soon weary, if he had not already wearied, of a -profitless siege. In an hour at most--and it was not yet -midnight--the king would be free to go home; and with that would -end, as far as he was concerned, the mission with which M. de -Rosny had honoured me. The task of communicating his Majesty's -decision to the King of Navarre would doubtless be entrusted to -M. de Rambouillet, or some person of similar position and -influence; and in the same hands would rest the honour and -responsibility of the treaty which, as we all know now, gave -after a brief interval and some bloodshed, and one great -providence, a lasting peace to France. But it must ever be--and -I recognised this that night with a bounding heart, which told of -some store of youth yet unexhausted--a matter of lasting pride to -me that I, whose career but now seemed closed in failure, had -proved the means of conferring so especial a benefit on my -country and religion. - -Remembering, however, the King of Navarre's warning that I must -not look to him for reward, I felt greatly doubtful in what -direction the scene would next open to me; my main dependence -being upon M. de Rosny's promise that he would make my fortune -his own care. Tired of the Court at Blois, and the atmosphere of -intrigue and treachery which pervaded it, and with which I hoped -I had now done, I was still at a loss to see how I could recross -the Loire in face of the Vicomte de Turenne's enmity. I might -have troubled myself much more with speculating upon this point -had I not found--in close connection with it--other and more -engrossing food for thought in the capricious behaviour of -Mademoiselle de la Vire. - -To that behaviour it seemed to me that I now held the clue. I -suspected with as much surprise as pleasure that only one -construction could be placed upon it--a construction which had -strongly occurred to me on catching sight of her face when she -intervened between me and the king. - -Tracing the matter back to the moment of our meeting in the -antechamber at St. Jean d'Angely, I remembered the jest which -Mathurine had uttered at our joint expense. Doubtless it had -dwelt in mademoiselle's mind, and exciting her animosity against -me had prepared her to treat me with contumely when, contrary to -all probability, we met again, and she found herself placed in a -manner in my hands. It had inspired her harsh words and harsher -looks on our journey northwards, and contributed with her -native pride to the low opinion I had formed of her when I -contrasted her with my honoured mother. - -But I began to think it possible that the jest had worked in -another way as well, by keeping me before her mind and impressing -upon her the idea--after my re-appearance at Chize more -particularly--that our fates were in some way linked. Assuming -this, it was not hard to understand her manner at Rosny when, -apprised that I was no impostor, and regretting her former -treatment of me, she still recoiled from the feelings which she -began to recognise in her own breast. From that time, and with -this clue, I had no difficulty in tracing her motives, always -supposing that this suspicion, upon which I dwelt with feelings -of wonder and delight, were well founded. - -Middle-aged and grizzled, with the best of my life behind me I -had never dared to think of her in this way before. Poor and -comparatively obscure, I had never raised my eyes to the wide -possessions said to be hers. Even now I felt myself dazzled and -bewildered by the prospect so suddenly unveiled. I could -scarcely, without vertigo, recall her as I had last seen her, -with her hand wounded in my defence; nor, without emotions -painful in their intensity, fancy myself restored to the youth of -which I had taken leave, and to the rosy hopes and plannings -which visit most men once only, and then in early years. -Hitherto I had deemed such things the lot of others. - -Daylight found me--and no wonder--still diverting myself with -these charming speculations; which had for me, be it remembered, -all the force of novelty. The sun chanced to rise that morning -in a clear sky, and brilliantly for the time of year; and words -fail me when I look back, and try to describe how delicately this -single fact enhanced my pleasure! I sunned myself in the beams, -which penetrated my barred window; and tasting the early -freshness with a keen and insatiable appetite, I experienced to -the full that peculiar aspiration after goodness which Providence -allows such moments to awaken in us in youth; but rarely when -time and the camp have blunted the sensibilities. - -I had not yet arrived at the stage at which difficulties have to -be reckoned up, and the chief drawback to the tumult of joy I -felt took the shape of regret that my mother no longer lived to -feel the emotions proper to the time, and to share in the -prosperity which she had so often and so fondly imagined. -Nevertheless, I felt myself drawn closer to her. I recalled with -the most tender feelings, and at greater leisure than had before -been the case, her last days and words, and particularly the -appeal she had uttered on mademoiselle's behalf. And I vowed, if -it were possible, to pay a visit to her grave before leaving the -neighbourhood, that I might there devote a few moments to the -thought of the affection which had consecrated all women in my -eyes. - -I was presently interrupted in these reflections by a -circumstance which proved in the end diverting enough, though far -from reassuring at the first blush. It began in a dismal -rattling of chains in the passage below and on the stairs outside -my room; which were paved, like the rest of the building, with -stone. I waited with impatience and some uneasiness to see what -would come of this; and my surprise may be imagined when, the -door being unlocked, gave entrance to a man in whom I recognised -on the instant deaf Mathew--the villain whom I had last seen with -Fresnoy in the house in the Rue Valois. Amazed at seeing him -here, I sprang to my feet in fear of some treachery, and for a -moment apprehended that the Provost-Marshal had basely given me -over to Bruhl's custody. But a second glance informing me that -the man was in irons--hence the noise I had heard--I sat down -again to see what would happen. - -It then appeared, that he merely brought me my breakfast, and was -a prisoner in less fortunate circumstances than myself; but as he -pretended not to recognise me, and placed the things before me in -obdurate silence, and I had no power to make him hear, I failed -to learn how he came to be in durance. The Provost-Marshal, -however, came presently to visit me, and brought me in token that -the good-fellowship of the evening still existed a pouch of the -Queen's herb; which I accepted for politeness' sake rather than -from any virtue I found in it. And from him I learned how the -rascal came to be in his charge. - -It appeared that Fresnoy, having no mind to be hampered with a -wounded man, had deposited him on the night of our MELEE at the -door of a hospital attached to a religious house in that part of -the town. The fathers had opened to him, but before taking him -in put, according to their custom, certain questions. Matthew -had been primed with the right answers to these questions, which -were commonly a form; but, unhappily for him, the Superior by -chance or mistake began with the wrong one. - -'You are not a Huguenot, my son?' he said. - -'In God's name, I am!' Matthew replied with simplicity, -believing he was asked if he was a Catholic. - -'What?' the scandalised Prior ejaculated, crossing himself in -doubt, 'are you not a true son of the Church?' - -'Never!' quoth our deaf friend--thinking all went well. - -'A heretic!' cried the monk. - -'Amen to that!' replied Matthew innocently; never doubting but -that he was asked the third question, which was, commonly, -whether he needed aid. - -Naturally after this there was a very pretty commotion, and -Matthew, vainly protesting that he was deaf, was hurried off to -the Provost-Marshal's custody. Asked how he communicated with -him, the Provost answered that he could not, but that his little -godchild, a girl only eight years old, had taken a strange fancy -to the rogue, and was never so happy as when talking to him by -means of signs, of which she had invented a great number. I -thought this strange at the time, but I had proof before the -morning was out that it was true enough, and that the two were -seldom apart, the little child governing this grim cut-throat -with unquestioned authority. - -After the Provost was gone I heard the man's fetters clanking -again. This time he entered to remove my cup and plate, and -surprised me by speaking to me. Maintaining his former -sullenness, and scarcely looking at me, he said abruptly: 'You -are going out again?' - -I nodded assent. - -'Do you remember a bald-faced bay horse that fell with you?' he -muttered, keeping his dogged glance on the floor. - -I nodded again. - -'I want to sell the horse,' he said. 'There is not such another -in Blois, no, nor in Paris! Touch it on the near hip with the -whip and it will go down as if shot. At other times a child -might ride it. It is in a stable, the third from the Three -Pigeons, in the Ruelle Amancy. Fresnoy does not know where it -is. He sent to ask yesterday, but I would not tell him.' - -Some spark of human feeling which appeared in his lowering, -brutal visage as he spoke of the horse led me to desire further -information. Fortunately the little girl appeared at that moment -at the door in search of her play-fellow; and through her I -learned that the man's motive for seeking to sell the horse was -fear lest the dealer in whose charge it stood should dispose of -it to repay himself for its keep, and he, Matthew, lose it -without return. - -Still I did not understand why he applied to me, but I was well -pleased when I learned the truth. Base as the knave was, he had -an affection for the bay, which had been his only property for -six years. Having this in his mind, he had conceived the idea -that I should treat it well, and should not, because he was in -prison and powerless, cheat him of the price. - -In the end I agreed to buy the horse for ten crowns, paying as -well what was due at the stable. I had it in my head to do -something also for the man, being moved to this partly by an idea -that there was good in him, and partly by the confidence he had -seen fit to place in me, which seemed to deserve some return. -But a noise below stairs diverted my attention. I heard myself -named, and for the moment forgot the matter. - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -TO ME, MY FRIENDS! - -I was impatient to learn who had come, and what was their errand -with me; and being still in that state of exaltation in which we -seem to hear and see more than at other times, I remarked a -peculiar lagging in the ascending footsteps, and a lack of -buoyancy, which was quick to communicate itself to my mind. A -vague dread fell upon me as I stood listening. Before the door -opened I had already conceived a score of disasters. I wondered -that I had not inquired earlier concerning the king's safety, and -in fine I experienced in a moment that complete reaction of the -spirits which is too frequently consequent upon an excessive flow -of gaiety. - -I was prepared, therefore, for heavy looks, but not for the -persons who wore them nor the strange bearing the latter -displayed on entering. My visitors proved to be M. d'Agen and -Simon Fleix. And so far well. But the former, instead of coming -forward to greet me with the punctilious politeness which always -characterised him, and which I had thought to be proof against -every kind of surprise and peril, met me with downcast eyes and a -countenance so gloomy as to augment my fears a hundredfold; since -it suggested all those vague and formidable pains which M. de -Rambouillet had hinted might await me in a prison. I thought -nothing more probable than the entrance after them of a gaoler -laden with gyves and handcuffs; and saluting M. Francois with a -face which, do what I would, fashioned itself upon his, I had -scarce composure sufficient to place the poor accommodation of my -room at his disposal. - -He thanked me; but he did it with so much gloom and so little -naturalness that I grew more impatient with each laboured -syllable. Simon Fleix had slunk to the window and turned his -back on us. Neither seemed to have anything to say. But a state -of suspense was one which I could least endure to suffer; and -impatient of the constraint which my friend's manner was fast -imparting to mine, I asked him at once and abruptly if his uncle -had returned. - -'He rode in about midnight,' he answered, tracing a pattern on -the floor with the point of his riding-switch. - -I felt some surprise on hearing this, since d'Agen was still -dressed and armed for the road, and was without all those -prettinesses which commonly marked his attire. But as he -volunteered no further information, and did not even refer to the -place in which he found me, or question me as to the adventures -which had lodged me there, I let it pass, and asked him if his -party had overtaken the deserters. - -'Yes,' he answered, 'with no result.' - -'And the king?' - -'M. de Rambouillet is with him now,' he rejoined, still bending -over his tracing. - -This answer relieved the worst of my anxieties, but the manner of -the speaker was so distrait and so much at variance with the -studied INSOUCIANCE which he usually, affected, that I only grew -more alarmed. I glanced at Simon Fleix, but he kept his face -averted, and I could gather nothing from it; though I observed -that he, too, was dressed for the road, and wore his arms. I -listened, but I could hear no sounds which indicated that the -Provost-Marshal was approaching. Then on a sudden I thought of -Mademoiselle de la Vire. Could it be that Maignan had proved -unequal to his task? - -I started impetuously from my stool under the influence of the -emotion which this thought naturally aroused, and seized M. -d'Agen by the arm. 'What has happened?' I exclaimed. 'Is it -Bruhl? Did he break into my lodgings last night? What!' I -continued, staggering back as I read the confirmation of my fears -in his face. 'He did?' - -M. d'Agen, who had risen also, pressed my hand with convulsive -energy. Gazing into my face, he held me a moment thus embraced, -His manner a strange mixture of fierceness and emotion. 'Alas, -yes,' he answered, 'he did, and took away those whom he found -there! Those whom he found there, you understand! But M. de -Rambouillet is on his way here, and in a few minutes you will be -free. We will follow together. If we overtake them--well. If -not, it will be time to talk.' - -He broke off, and I stood looking at him, stunned by the blow, -yet in the midst of my own horror and surprise retaining sense -enough to wonder at the gloom on his brow and the passion which -trembled in his words. What had this to do with him? 'But -Bruhl?' I said at last, recovering myself with an effort--'how -did he gain access to the room? I left it guarded.' - -'By a ruse, while Maignan and his men were away,' was the answer. -'Only this lad of yours was there. Bruhl's men overpowered him.' - -'Which way has Bruhl gone?' I muttered, my throat dry, my heart -beating wildly. - -He shook his head. 'All we know is that he passed through the -south gate with eleven horsemen, two women, and six led horses, -at daybreak this morning,' he answered. 'Maignan came to my -uncle with the news, and M. de Rambouillet went at once, early as -it was, to the king to procure your release. He should be here -now.' - -I looked at the barred window, the most horrible fears at my -heart; from it to Simon Fleix, who stood beside it, his attitude -expressing the utmost dejection. I went towards him. 'You -hound!' I said in a low voice, 'how did it happen?' - -To my surprise he fell in a moment on his knees, and raised his -arm as though to ward off a blow. 'They imitated Maignan's -voice,' he muttered hoarsely. 'We opened.' - -'And you dare to come here and tell me!' I cried, scarcely -restraining my passion. 'You, to whom I entrusted her. You, -whom I thought devoted to her. You have destroyed her, man!' - -He rose as suddenly as he had cowered down. His thin, nervous -face underwent a startling change; growing on a sudden hard and -rigid, while his eyes began to glitter with excitement. 'I--I -have destroyed her? Ay, mon dieu! I HAVE,' he cried, speaking -to my face, and no longer flinching or avoiding my eye. 'You may -kill me, if you like. You do not know all. It was I who stole -the favour she gave you from your doublet, and then said M. de -Rosny had taken it! It was I who told her you had given it away! -It was I who brought her to the Little Sisters', that she might -see you with Madame de Bruhl! It was I who did all, and -destroyed her! Now you know! Do with me what you like!' - -He opened his arms as though to receive a blow, while I stood -before him astounded beyond measure by a disclosure so -unexpected; full of righteous wrath and indignation, and yet -uncertain what I ought to do. 'Did you also let Bruhl into the -room on purpose?' I cried at last. - -'I?' he exclaimed, with a sudden flash of rage in his eyes. 'I -would have died first!' - -I do not know how I might have taken this confession; but at the -moment there was a trampling of horses outside, and before I -could answer him I heard M. de Rambouillet speaking in haughty -tones, at the door below. The Provost-Marshal was with him, but -his lower notes were lost in the ring of bridles and the stamping -of impatient hoofs. I looked towards the door of my room, which -stood ajar, and presently the two entered, the Marquis listening -with an air of contemptuous indifference to the apologies which -the other, who attended at his elbow, was pouring forth. M. de -Rambouillet's face reflected none of the gloom and despondency -which M. d'Agen's exhibited in so marked a degree. He seemed, on -the contrary, full of gaiety and good-humour, and, coming forward -and seeing me, embraced me with the utmost kindness and -condescension. - -'Ha! my friend,' he said cheerfully, 'so I find you here after -all! But never fear. I am this moment from the king with an -order for your release. His Majesty has told me all, making me -thereby your lasting friend and debtor. As for this gentleman,' -he continued, turning with a cold smile to the Provost-Marshal, -who seemed to be trembling in his boots, 'he may expect an -immediate order also. M. de Villequier has wisely gone a- -hunting, and will not be back for a day or two.' - -Racked as I was by suspense and anxiety, I could not assail him -with immediate petitions. It behoved me first to thank him for -his prompt intervention, and this in terms as warm as I could -invent. Nor could I in justice fail to commend the Provost; to -him, representing the officer's conduct to me, and lauding his -ability. All this, though my heart was sick with thought and -fear and disappointment, and every minute seemed an age. - -'Well, well,' the Marquis said with stately good-nature, 'We will -lay the blame on Villequier then. He is an old fox, however, and -ten to one he will go scot-free. It is not the first time he has -played this trick. But I have not yet come to the end of my -commission,' he continued pleasantly. 'His Majesty sends you -this, M. de Marsac, and bade me say that he had loaded it for -you.' - -He drew from under his cloak as he spoke the pistol which I had -left with the king, and which happened to be the same M. de Rosny -had given me. I took it, marvelling impatiently at the careful -manner in which he handled it; but in a moment I understood for I -found it loaded to the muzzle with gold-pieces, of which two or -three fell and rolled upon the floor. Much moved by this -substantial mark of the king's gratitude, I was nevertheless for -pocketing them in haste; but the Marquis, to satisfy a little -curiosity on his part, would have me count them, and brought the -tale to a little over two thousand livres, without counting a -ring set with precious stones which I found among them. This -handsome present diverted my thoughts from Simon Fleix, but could -not relieve the anxiety I felt on mademoiselle's account. The -thought of her position so tortured me that M. de Rambouillet -began to perceive my state of mind, and hastened to assure me -that before going to the Court he had already issued orders -calculated to assist me. - -'You desire to follow this lady, I understand?' he said. 'What -with the king who is enraged beyond the ordinary by this outrage, -and Francois there, who seemed beside himself when be heard the -news, I have not got any very clear idea of the position.' - -'She was entrusted to me by--by one, sir, well known to you,' I -answered hoarsely. 'My honour is engaged to him and to her. If -I follow on my feet and alone, I must follow. If I cannot save -her, I can at least punish the villains who have wronged her.' - -'But the man's wife is with them,' he said in some wonder. - -'That goes for nothing,' I answered. - -He saw the strong emotion under which I laboured, and which -scarcely suffered me to answer him with patience; and he looked -at me curiously, but not unkindly. 'The sooner you are off, the -better then,' he said, nodding. 'I gathered as much. The man -Maignan will have his fellows at the south gate an hour before -noon, I understand. Francois has two lackeys, and he is wild to -go. With yourself and the lad there you will muster nine swords. -I will lend you two. I can spare no more, for we may have an -EMEUTE at any moment. You will take the road, therefore, eleven -in all, and should overtake them some time to-night if your -horses are in condition.' - -I thanked him warmly, without regarding his kindly statement that -my conduct on the previous day had laid him under lasting -obligations to me. We went down together, and he transferred two -of his fellows to me there and then, bidding them change their -horses for fresh ones and meet me at the south gate. He sent -also a man to my stable--Simon Fleix having disappeared in the -confusion--for the Cid, and was in the act of inquiring whether I -needed anything else, when a woman slipped through the knot of -horsemen who surrounded us as we stood in the doorway of the -house, and, throwing herself upon me, grasped me by the arm. It -was Fanchette. Her harsh features were distorted with grief, her -cheeks were mottled with the violent weeping in which such -persons vent their sorrow. Her hair hung in long wisps on her -neck. Her dress was torn and draggled, and there was a great -bruise over her eye. She had the air of one frantic with despair -and misery. - -She caught me by the cloak, and shook me so that I staggered. 'I -have found you at last!' she cried joyfully. 'You will take me -with you! You will take me to her!' - -Though her words tried my composure, and my heart went out to -her, I strove to answer her according to the sense of the matter. -'It is impossible, I said sternly. 'This is a man s errand. We -shall have to ride day and night, my good woman.' - -'But I will ride day and night too!' she replied passionately, -flinging the hair from her eyes, and looking wildly from me to M. -Rambouillet. 'What would I not do for her? I am as strong as a -man, and stronger. Take me, take me, I say, and when I meet that -villain I will tear him limb for limb!' - -I shuddered, listening to her; but remembering that, being -country bred, she was really as strong as she said, and that -likely enough some advantage might accrue to us from her perfect -fidelity and devotion to her mistress, I gave a reluctant -consent. I sent one of M. de Rambouillet's men to the stable -where the deaf man's bay was standing, bidding him pay whatever -was due to the dealer, and bring the horse to the south gate; my -intention being to mount one of my men on it, and furnish the -woman with a less tricky steed. - -The briskness of these and the like preparations, which even for -one of my age and in my state of anxiety were not devoid, of -pleasure, prevented my thoughts dwelling on the future. Content -to have M. Francois' assistance without following up too keenly -the train of ideas which his readiness suggested, I was satisfied -also to make use of Simon without calling him to instant account -for his treachery. The bustle of the streets, which the -confirmation of the king's speedy departure had filled with -surly, murmuring crowds, tended still further to keep my fears at -bay; while the contrast between my present circumstances, as I -rode through them well-appointed and well-attended, with the -Marquis by my side, and the poor appearance I had exhibited on my -first arrival in Blois, could not fail to inspire me with hope -that I might surmount this danger, also, and in the event find -Mademoiselle safe and uninjured. I took leave of M. de -Rambouillet with many expressions of esteem on both sides, and a -few minutes before eleven reached the rendezvous outside the -south gate. - -M. d'Agen and Maignan advanced to meet me, the former still -presenting an exterior so stern and grave that I wondered to see -him, and could scarcely believe he was the same gay spark whose -elegant affectations had more than once caused me to smile. He -saluted me in silence; Maignan with a sheepish air, which ill- -concealed the savage temper defeat had roused in him. Counting -my men, I found we mustered ten only, but the equerry explained -that he had despatched a rider ahead to make inquiries and leave -word for us at convenient points; to the end that we might follow -the trail with as few delays as possible. Highly commending -Maignan for his forethought in this, I gave the word to start, -and crossing the river by the St. Gervais Bridge, we took the -road for Selles at a smart trot. - -The weather had changed much in the last twenty-four hours. The -sun shone brightly, with a warm west wind, and the country -already showed signs of the early spring which marked that year. -If, the first hurry of departure over, I had now leisure to feel -the gnawing of anxiety and the tortures inflicted by an -imagination which, far outstripping us, rode with those whom we -pursued and shared their perils, I found two sources of comfort -still open to me. No man who has seen service can look on a -little band of well-appointed horsemen without pleasure. I -reviewed the stalwart forms and stern faces which moved beside me -and comparing their decent order and sound equipments with the -scurvy foulness of the men who had ridden north with me, thanked -God, and, ceased to wonder at the indignation which Matthew and -his fellows had aroused in mademoiselle's mind. My other source -of satisfaction, the regular beat of hoofs and ring of bridles -continually augmented. Every step took us farther from Blois-- -farther from the close town and reeking streets and the Court; -which, if it no longer seemed to me a shambles, befouled by one -great deed of blood--experience had removed that impression-- -retained an appearance infinitely mean and miserable in my eyes. -I hated and loathed its intrigues and its jealousies, the folly -which trifled in a closet while rebellion mastered France, and -the pettiness which recognised no wisdom save that of balancing -party and party. I thanked God that my work there was done, and -could have welcomed any other occasion that forced me to turn my -back on it, and sent me at large over the pure heaths, through -the woods, and under the wide heaven, speckled with moving -clouds. - -But such springs of comfort soon ran dry. M. d'Agen's gloomy -rage and the fiery gleam in Maignan's eye would have reminded me, -had I been in any danger of forgetting the errand on which we -were bound, and the need, exceeding all other needs, which -compelled us to lose no moment that might be used. Those whom we -followed had five hours' start. The thought of what might; -happen in those five hours to the two helpless women whom I had -sworn to protect burned itself into my mind; so that to refrain -from putting spurs to my horse and riding recklessly forward -taxed at times all my self-control. The horses seemed to crawl. -The men rising and falling listlessly in their saddles maddened -me. Though I could not hope to come upon any trace of our quarry -for many hours, perhaps for days, I scanned the long, flat heaths -unceasingly, searched every marshy bottom before we descended -into it, and panted for the moment when the next low ridge should -expose to our view a fresh track of wood and waste. The rosy -visions of the past night, and those fancies in particular which -had made the dawn memorable, recurred to me, as his deeds in the -body (so men say) to a hopeless drowning wretch. I grew to think -of nothing but Bruhl and revenge. Even the absurd care with -which Simon avoided the neighbourhood of Fanchette, riding -anywhere so long as he might ride at a distance from the angry -woman's tongue and hand--which provoked many a laugh from the -men, and came to be the joke of the company--failed to draw a -smile from me. - -We passed through Contres, four leagues from Blois, an hour after -noon, and three hours later crossed the Cher at Selles, where we -stayed awhile to bait our horses. Here we had news of the party -before us, and henceforth had little doubt that Bruhl was making -for the Limousin; a district in which he might rest secure under -the protection of Turenne, and safely defy alike the King of -France and the King of Navarre. The greater the necessity, it -was plain, for speed; but the roads in that neighbourhood, and -forward as far as Valancy, proved heavy and, foundrous, and it -was all we could do to reach Levroux with jaded horses three -hours after sunset. The probability that Bruhl would lie at -Chateauroux, five leagues farther on--for I could not conceive -that under the circumstances he would spare the women--would have -led me to push forward had it been possible; but the darkness and -the difficulty of finding a guide who would venture deterred me -from the hopeless attempt, and we stayed the night where we were. - -Here we first heard of the plague; which was said to be ravaging -Chateauroux and all the country farther south. The landlord of -the inn would have regaled us with many stories of it, and -particularly of the swiftness with which men and even cattle -succumbed to its attacks. But we had other things to think of, -and between anxiety and weariness had clean forgotten the matter -when we rose next morning. - -We started shortly after daybreak, and for three leagues pressed -on at tolerable speed. Then, for no reason stated, our guide -gave us the slip as we passed through a wood, and was seen no -more. We lost the road, and had to retrace our steps. We -strayed into a slough, and extracted ourselves with difficulty. -The man who was riding the bay I had purchased forgot the secret -which I had imparted to him, and got an ugly fall. In fine, -after all these mishaps it wanted little of noon, and less to -exhaust our patience, when at length we came in sight of -Chateauroux. - -Before entering the town we had still an adventure; for we came -at a turn in the road on a scene as surprising as it was at first -inexplicable. A little north of the town, in a coppice of box -facing the south and west, we happed suddenly on a rude -encampment, consisting of a dozen huts and booths, set back from -the road and formed, some of branches of evergreen trees laid. -clumsily together, and some of sacking stretched over poles. A -number of men and women of decent appearance lay on the short -grass before the booths, idly sunning themselves; or moved about, -cooking and tending fires, while a score of children raced to and -fro with noisy shouts and laughter. The appearance of our party -on the scene caused an instant panic. The women and children -fled screaming into the wood, spreading the sound of breaking -branches farther and farther as they retreated; while the men, a -miserable pale-faced set, drew together, and seeming half- -inclined to fly also, regarded us with glances of fear and -suspicion. - -Remarking that their appearance and dress were not those of -vagrants, while the booths seemed to indicate little skill or -experience in the builders, I bade my companions halt, and -advanced alone. - -'What is the meaning of this, my men?' I said, addressing the -first group I reached. 'You seem to have come a-Maying before -the time. Whence are you?' - -'From Chateauroux,' the foremost answered sullenly. His dress, -now I saw him nearer, seemed to be that of a respectable -townsman. - -'Why?' I replied. 'Have you no homes?' - -'Ay, we have homes,' he answered with the same brevity. - -'Then why, in God's name, are you here?' I retorted, marking the -gloomy air and downcast faces of the group. 'Have you been -harried?' - -'Ay, harried by the Plague!' he answered bitterly. 'Do you mean -to say you have not heard? In Chateauroux there is one man dead -in three. Take my advice, sir--you are a brave company--turn, -and go home again.' - -'Is it as bad as that?' I exclaimed. I had forgotten the -landlord's gossip, and the explanation struck me with the force -of surprise. - -'Ay, is it! Do you see the blue haze?' he continued, pointing -with a sudden gesture to the lower ground before us, over which a -light pall of summery vapour hung still and motionless. 'Do you -see it? Well, under that there is death! You may find food in -Chateauroux, and stalls for your horses, and a man to take money; -for there are still men there. But cross the Indre, and you will -see sights worse than a battle-field a week old! You will find -no living soul in house or stable or church, but corpses plenty. -The land is cursed! cursed for heresy, some say! Half are dead, -and half are fled to the woods! And if you do not die of the -plague, you will starve.' - -'God forbid!' I muttered, thinking with a shudder of those -before us. This led me to ask him if a party resembling ours in -number, and including two women, had passed that way. He -answered, Yes, after sunset the evening before; that their horses -were stumbling with fatigue and the men swearing in pure -weariness. He believed that they had not entered the town, but -had made a rude encampment half a mile beyond it; and had again -broken this up, and ridden southwards two or three hours before -our arrival. - -'Then we may overtake them to-day?' I said. - -'By your leave, sir,' he answered, with grave meaning. 'I think -you are more likely to meet them.' - -Shrugging my shoulders, I thanked him shortly and left him; the -full importance of preventing my men hearing what I had heard-- -lest the panic which possessed these townspeople should seize on -them also--being already in my mind. Nevertheless the thought -came too late, for on turning my horse I found one of the -foremost, a long, solemn-faced man, had already found his way to -Maignan's stirrup; where he was dilating so eloquently upon the -enemy which awaited us southwards that the countenances of half -the troopers were as long as his own, and I saw nothing for it -but to interrupt his oration by a smart application of my switch -to his shoulders. Having thus stopped him, and rated him back to -his fellows, I gave the word to march. The men obeyed -mechanically, we swung into a canter, and for a moment the danger -was over. - -But I knew that it would recur again and again. Stealthily -marking the faces round me, and listening to the whispered talk -which went on, I saw the terror spread from one to another. -Voices which earlier in the day had been raised in song and -jest grew silent. Great reckless fellows of Maignan's following, -who had an oath and a blow for all comers, and to whom the -deepest ford seemed to be child's play, rode with drooping heads -and knitted brows; or scanned with ill-concealed anxiety the -strange haze before us, through which the roofs of the town, and -here and there a low hill or line of poplars, rose to plainer -view. Maignan himself, the stoutest of the stout, looked grave, -and had lost his swaggering air. Only three persons preserved -their SANG-FROID entire. Of these, M. d'Agen rode as if he had -heard nothing, and Simon Fleix as if he feared nothing; while -Fanchette, gazing eagerly forward, saw, it was plain, only one -object in the mist, and that was her Mistress's face. - -'We found the gates of the town open, and this, which proved to -be the herald of stranger sights, daunted the hearts of my men -more than the most hostile reception. As we entered, our horses' -hoofs, clattering loudly on the pavement, awoke a hundred echoes -in the empty houses to right and left. The main street, flooded -with sunshine, which made its desolation seem a hundred times -more formidable, stretched away before us, bare and empty; or -haunted only by a few slinking dogs, and prowling wretches, who -fled, affrighted at the unaccustomed sounds, or stood and eyed us -listlessly as me passed. A bell tolled; in the distance we heard -the wailing of women. The silent ways, the black cross which -marked every second door, the frightful faces which once or twice -looked out from upper windows and blasted our sight, infected my -men with terror so profound and so ungovernable that at last -discipline was forgotten; and one shoving his horse before -another in narrow places, there was a scuffle to be first. One, -and then a second, began to trot. The trot grew into a shuffling -canter. The gates of the inn lay open, nay seemed to invite us -to enter; but no one turned or halted. Moved by a single impulse -we pushed breathlessly on and on, until the open country was -reached, and we who had entered the streets in silent awe, swept -out and over the bridge as if the fiend were at our heels. - -That I shared in this flight causes me no shame even now, for my -men were at the time ungovernable, as the best-trained troops are -when seized by such panics; and, moreover, I could have done no -good by remaining in the town, where the strength of the -contagion was probably greater and the inn larder like to be as -bare, as the hillside. Few towns are without a hostelry outside -the gates for the convenience of knights of the road or those who -would avoid the dues, and Chateauroux proved no exception to this -rule. A short half-mile from the walls we drew rein before a -second encampment raised about a wayside house. It scarcely -needed the sound of music mingled with brawling voices to inform -us that the wilder spirits of the town had taken refuge here, and -were seeking to drown in riot and debauchery, as I have seen -happen in a besieged place, the remembrance of the enemy which -stalked abroad in the sunshine. Our sudden appearance, while it -put a stop to the mimicry of mirth, brought out a score of men -and women in every stage of drunkenness and dishevelment, of whom -some, with hiccoughs and loose gestures, cried to us to join -them, while others swore horridly at being recalled to the -present, which, with the future, they were endeavouring to -forget. - -I cursed them in return for a pack of craven wretches, and -threatening to ride down those who obstructed us, ordered my men -forward; halting eventually a quarter of a mile farther on, where -a wood of groundling oaks which still wore last year's leaves -afforded fair shelter. Afraid to leave my men myself, lest some -should stray to the inn and others desert altogether, I requested -M. d'Agen to return thither with Maignan and Simon, and bring us -what forage and food we required. This he did with perfect -success, though not until after a scuffle, in which Maignan -showed himself a match for a hundred. We watered the horses at a -neighbouring brook, and assigning two hours to rest and -refreshment--a great part of which M. d'Agen and I spent walking -up and down in moody silence, each immersed in his own thoughts-- -we presently took the road again with renewed spirits. - -But a panic is not easily shaken off, nor is any fear so -difficult to combat and defeat as the fear of the invisible. The -terrors which food and drink had for a time thrust out presently -returned with sevenfold force. Men looked uneasily in one -another's faces, and from them to the haze which veiled all -distant objects. They muttered of the heat, which was sudden, -strange, and abnormal at that time of the year. And by-and-by -they had other things to speak of. We met a man, who ran beside -us and begged of us, crying out in a dreadful voice that his wife -and four children lay unburied in the house. A little farther -on, beside a well, the corpse of a woman with a child at her -breast lay poisoning the water; she had crawled to it to appease -her thirst, and died of the draught. Last of all, in, a beech- -wood near Lotier we came upon a lady living in her coach, with -one or two panic-stricken women for her only attendants. Her -husband was in Paris, she told me; half her servants were dead, -the rest had fled. Still she retained in a remarkable degree -both courage and courtesy, and accepting with fortitude my -reasons and excuses for perforce leaving her in such a plight, -gave me a clear account of Bruhl and his party, who had passed -her some, hours before. The picture of this lady gazing after us -with perfect good-breeding, as we rode away at speed, followed by -the lamentations of her women, remains with me to this day; -filling my mind at once with admiration and melancholy. For, as -I learned later, she fell ill of the plague where we left her in -the beech-wood, and died in a night with both her servants. - -The intelligence we had from her inspired us to push forward, -sparing neither spur nor horseflesh, in the hope that we might -overtake Bruhl before night should expose his captives to fresh -hardships and dangers. But the pitch to which the dismal sights -and sounds I have mentioned, and a hundred like them, had raised -the fears of my following did much to balk my endeavours. For a -while, indeed, under the influence of momentary excitement, they -spurred their horses to the gallop, as if their minds were made -up to face the worst; but presently they checked them despite all -my efforts, and, lagging slowly and more slowly, seemed to lose -all spirit and energy. The desolation which met our eyes on -every side, no less than the death-like stillness which -prevailed, even the birds, as it seemed to us, being silent, -chilled the most reckless to the heart. Maignan's face lost its -colour, his voice its ring. As for the rest, starting at a sound -and wincing if a leather galled them, they glanced backwards -twice for once they looked forwards, and held themselves ready to -take to their heels and be gone at the least alarm. - -Noting these signs, and doubting if I could trust even Maignan, I -thought it prudent to change my place, and falling to the rear, -rode there with a grim face and a pistol ready to my hand. It -was not the least of my annoyances that M. d'Agen appeared to be -ignorant of any cause for apprehension save such as lay before -us, and riding on in the same gloomy fit which had possessed him -from the moment of starting, neither sought my opinion nor gave -his own, but seemed to have undergone so complete and mysterious -a change that I could think of one thing only that could have -power to effect so marvellous a transformation. I felt his -presence a trial rather than a help, and reviewing the course of -our short friendship, which a day or two before had been so great -a delight to me--as the friendship of a young man commonly is to -one growing old--I puzzled myself with much wondering whether -there could be rivalry between us. - -Sunset, which was welcome to my company, since it removed the -haze, which they regarded with superstitious dread, found us -still plodding through a country of low ridges and shallow -valleys, both clothed in oak-woods. Its short brightness died -away, and with it my last hope of surprising Bruhl before I -slept. Darkness fell upon us as we wended our way slowly down a -steep hillside where the path was so narrow and difficult as to -permit only one to descend at a time. A stream of some size, if -we might judge from the noise it made, poured through the ravine -below us, and presently, at the point where we believed the -crossing to be, we espied a solitary light shining in the -blackness. To proceed farther was impossible, for the ground -grew more and more precipitous; and, seeing this, I bade Maignan -dismount, and leaving us where we were, go for a guide to the -house from which the light issued. - -He obeyed, and plunging into the night, which in that pit; -between the hills was of an inky darkness, presently returned -with a peasant and a lanthorn. I was about to bid the man guide -us to the ford, or to some level ground where we could picket the -horses, when Maignan gleefully cried out that he had news. I -asked what news. - -'Speak up, MANANT!' he said, holding up his lanthorn so that the -light fell on the man's haggard face and unkempt hair. 'Tell his -Excellency what you have told me, or I will skin you alive, -little man!' - -'Your other party came to the ford an hour before sunset,' the -peasant answered, staring dully at us. 'I saw them coming, and -hid myself. They quarrelled by the ford. Some were for -crossing, and some not.' - -'They had ladies with them?' M. d'Agen said suddenly. - -'Ay, two, your Excellency,' the clown answered, 'riding like men. -In the end they did not cross for fear of the plague, but turned -up the river, and rode westwards towards St. Gaultier.' - -'St. Gaultier!' I said, 'Where is that? Where does the road to -it go to besides?' - -But the peasant's knowledge was confined to his own -neighbourhood. He knew no world beyond St. Gaultier, and could -not answer my question. I was about to bid him show us the way -down, when Maignan cried out that he knew more. - -'What?' I asked. - -'Arnidieu! he heard them say where they were going to spend the -night!' - -'Ha!' I cried. 'Where?' - -'In an old ruined castle two leagues from this, and between here -and St. Gaultier,' the equerry answered, forgetting in his -triumph both plague and panic. 'What do you say to that, your -Excellency? It is so, sirrah, is it not?' he continued, turning -to the peasant. 'Speak, Master Jacques, or I will roast you -before a slow fire!' - -But I did not wait to hear the answer. Leaping to the ground, I -took the Cid's rein on my arm, and cried impatiently to the man -to lead us down. - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - -THE CASTLE ON THE HILL. - -The certainty that Bruhl and his captives were not far off, and -the likelihood that we might be engaged within the hour, expelled -from the minds of even the most timorous among us the vapourish -fears which had before haunted them. In the hurried scramble -which presently landed us on the bank of the stream, men who had -ridden for hours in sulky silence found their voices, and from -cursing their horses' blunders soon advanced to swearing and -singing after the fashion of their kind. This change, by -relieving me of a great fear, left me at leisure to consider our -position, and estimate more clearly than I might have done the -advantages of hastening, or postponing, an attack. We numbered -eleven; the enemy, to the best of my belief, twelve. Of this -slight superiority I should have reeked little in the daytime; -nor, perhaps, counting Maignan as two, have allowed that it -existed. But the result of a night attack is more difficult to -forecast; and I had also to take into account the perils to which -the two ladies would be exposed, between the darkness and tumult, -in the event of the issue remaining for a time in doubt. - -These considerations, and particularly the last, weighed so -powerfully with me, that before I reached the bottom of the gorge -I had decided to postpone the attack until morning. The answers -to some questions which I put to the inhabitant of the house by -the ford as soon as I reached level ground only confirmed me in -this resolution. The road Bruhl had taken ran for a distance by -the riverside, and along the bottom of the gorge; and, difficult -by day, was reported to be impracticable for horses by night. -The castle he had mentioned lay full two leagues away, and on the -farther edge of a tract of rough woodland. Finally, I doubted -whether, in the absence of any other reason for delay, I could -have marched my men, weary as they were, to the place before -daybreak. - -When I came to announce this decision, however, and to inquire -what accommodation the peasant could afford us, I found myself in -trouble. Fanchette, mademoiselle's woman, suddenly confronted -me, her face scarlet with rage. Thrusting herself forward into -the circle of light cast by the lanthorn, she assailed me with a -virulence and fierceness which said more for her devotion to her -mistress than her respect for me. Her wild gesticulations, her -threats, and the appeals which she made now to me, and now to the -men who stood in a circle round us, their faces in shadow, -discomfited as much as they surprised me. - -'What!' she cried violently, 'you call yourself a gentleman, and -lie here and let my mistress be murdered, or worse, within a -league of you! Two leagues? A groat for your two leagues! I -would walk them barefoot, if that would shame you. And you, you -call yourselves men, and suffer it! It is God's truth you are a -set of cravens and sluggards. Give me as many women, and I -would--' - -'Peace, woman!' Maignan said in his deep voice. 'You had your -way and came with us, and you will obey orders as well as -another! Be off, and see to the victuals before worse happen to -you!' - -'Ay, see to the victuals!' she retorted. 'See to the victuals, -forsooth! That is all you think of--to lie warm and eat your -fill! A set of dastardly, drinking, droning guzzlers you are! -You are!' she retorted, her voice rising to a shriek. 'May the -plague take you!' - -'Silence!' Maignan growled fiercely, 'or have a care to -yourself! For a copper-piece I would send you to cool your heels -in the water below--for that last word! Begone, do you hear,' he -continued, seizing her by the shoulder and thrusting her towards -the house, 'or worse may happen to you. We are rough customers, -as you will find if you do not lock up your tongue!' - -I heard her go wailing into the darkness; and Heaven knows it was -not without compunction I forced myself to remain inactive in the -face of a devotion which seemed so much greater than mine. The -men fell away one by one to look to their horses and choose -sleeping-quarters for the night; and presently M. d'Agen and I -were left alone standing beside the lanthorn, which the man had -hung on a bush before his door. The brawling of the water as it -poured between the banks, a score of paces from us, and the black -darkness which hid everything beyond the little ring of light in -which we stood--so that for all we could see we were in a pit-- -had the air of isolating us from all the world. - -I looked at the young man, who had not once lisped that day; and -I plainly read in his attitude his disapproval of my caution. -Though he declined to meet my eye, he stood with his arms folded -and his head thrown back, making no attempt to disguise the scorn -and ill-temper which his face expressed. Hurt by the woman's -taunts, and possibly shaken in my opinion, I grew restive under -his silence, and unwisely gave way to my feelings. - -'You do not appear to approve of my decision, M. d'Agen?' I -said. - -'It is yours to command, sir,' he answered proudly. - -There are truisms which have more power to annoy than the veriest -reproaches. I should have borne in mind the suspense and anxiety -he was suffering, and which had so changed him that I scarcely -knew him for the gay young spark on whose toe I had trodden. I -should have remembered that he was young and I old, and that it -behoved me to be patient. But on my side also there was anxiety, -and responsibility as well; and, above all, a rankling soreness, -to which I refrain from giving the name of jealousy, though it -came as near to that feeling as the difference in our ages and -personal advantages (whereof the balance was all on his side) -would permit. This, no doubt, it was which impelled me to -continue the argument. - -'You would go on?' I said persistently. - -'It is idle to say what I would do,' he answered with a flash of -anger. - -'I asked for your opinion, sir,' I rejoined stiffly. - -'To what purpose?' he retorted, stroking his small moustache -haughtily, 'We look at the thing from opposite points. You, are -going about your business, which appears to be the rescuing of -ladies who are--may I venture to say it? so unfortunate as to -entrust themselves to your charge. I, M. de Marsac, am more -deeply interested. More deeply interested,' he repeated lamely. -'I--in a word, I am prepared, sir, to do what others only talk -of--and if I cannot follow otherwise, would follow on my feet!' - -'Whom?' I asked curtly, stung by this repetition of my own -words. - -He laughed harshly and bitterly. 'Why explain? or why quarrel?' - -he replied cynically. 'God knows, if I could afford to quarrel -with you, I should have done so fifty hours ago. But I need your -help; and, needing it, I am prepared to do that which must seem -to a person of your calm passions and perfect judgment alike -futile and incredible--pay the full price for it.' - -'The full price for it!' I muttered, understanding nothing, -except that I did not understand. - -'Ay, the full price for it!' he repeated. And as he spoke he -looked at me with an expression of rage so fierce that I recoiled -a step. That seemed to restore him in some degree to himself, -for without giving me an opportunity of answering he turned -hastily from me, and, striding away, was in a moment lost in the -darkness. - -He left me amazed beyond measure. I stood repeating his phrase -about 'the full price' a hundred times over, but still found it -and his passion inexplicable. To cut the matter short, I could -come to no other conclusion than that he desired to insult me, -and aware of my poverty and the equivocal position in which I -stood towards mademoiselle, chose his words accordingly. This -seemed a thing unworthy of one of whom I had before thought -highly; but calmer reflection enabling me to see something of -youthful bombast in the tirade he had delivered, I smiled a -little sadly, and determined to think no more of the matter for -the present, but to persist firmly in that which seemed to me to -be the right course. - -Having settled this, I was about to enter the house, when Maignan -stopped me, telling me that the plague had killed five people in -it, letting only the man we had seen; who had, indeed, been -seized, but recovered. This ghastly news had scared my company -to such a degree that they had gone as far from the house as the -level ground permitted, and there lighted a fire, round which -they were going to pass the night. Fanchette had taken up her -quarters in the stable, and the equerry announced that he had -kept a shed full of sweet, hay for M. d'Agen and myself. I -assented to this arrangement, and after supping off soup and -black bread, which was all we could procure, bade the peasant -rouse us two hours before sunrise; and so, being too weary and -old in service to remain awake thinking, I fell asleep, and -slept; soundly till a little after four. - -My first business on rising was to see that the men before -mounting made a meal, for it is ill work fighting empty. I went -round also and saw that all had their arms, and that such as -carried pistols had them loaded and primed. Francois did not put -in an appearance until this work was done, and then showed a very -pale and gloomy countenance. I took no heed of him, however, and -with the first streak of daylight we started in single file and -at a snail's pace up the valley, the peasant, whom I placed in -Maignan's charge, going before to guide us, and M. d'Agen and I -riding in the rear. By the time the sun rose and warmed our -chilled and shivering frames we were over the worst of the -ground, and were able to advance at some speed along a track cut -through a dense forest of oak-trees. - -Though we had now risen out of the valley, the close-set trunks -and the undergrowth round them prevented our seeing in any -direction. For a mile or more we rode on blindly, and presently -started on finding ourselves on the brow of a hill, looking down -into a valley, the nearer end of which was clothed in woods, -while the farther widened into green sloping pastures. From the -midst of these a hill or mount rose sharply up, until it ended in -walls of grey stone scarce to be distinguished at that distance -from the native rock on which they stood. - -'See!' cried our guide. 'There is the castle!' - -Bidding the men dismount in haste, that the chance of our being -seen by the enemy--which was not great--might be farther -lessened, I began to inspect the position at leisure; my first -feeling while doing so being one of thankfulness that I had not -attempted a night attack, which must inevitably have miscarried, -possibly with loss to ourselves, and certainly with the result of -informing the enemy of our presence. The castle, of which we had -a tolerable view, was long and narrow in shape, consisting of two -towers connected by walls, The nearer tower, through which lay -the entrance, was roofless, and in every way seemed to be more -ruinous than the inner one, which appeared to be perfect in both -its stories. This defect notwithstanding, the place was so -strong that my heart sank lower the longer I looked; and a glance -at Maignan's face assured me that his experience was also at -fault. For M. d'Agen, I clearly saw, when I turned to him, that -he had never until this moment realised what we had to expect, -but, regarding our pursuit in the light of a hunting-party, had -looked to see it end in like easy fashion. His blank, surprised -face, as he stood eyeing the stout grey walls, said as much as -this. - -'Arnidieu!' Maignan muttered, 'give me ten men, and I would hold -it against a hundred!' - -'Tut, man, There is more than one way to Rome!' I answered -oracularly, though I was far from feeling as confident as I -seemed. 'Come, let us descend and view this nut a little -nearer.' - -We began to trail downwards in silence, and as the path let us -for a while, out of sight of the castle, we were able to proceed -with less caution. We had nearly reached without adventure the -father skirts of the wood, between which and the ruin lay an -interval of open ground, when we came suddenly, at the edge of a -little clearing, on an old hag; who was so intent; upon tying up -faggots that she did not see us until Maignan's hand was on her -shoulder. When she did, she screamed out, and escaping from him -with an activity wonderful in a woman of her age, ran with great -swiftness to the side of an old man who lay at the foot of a tree -half a bowshot off; and whom we had not before seen. Snatching -up an axe, she put herself in a posture of defence before him -with gestures and in a manner as touching in the eyes of some -among us as they were ludicrous in those of others; who cried to -Maignan that he had met his match at last, with other gibes of -the kind that pass current in camps. - -I called to him to let her be, and went forward myself to the old -man, who lay on a rude bed of leaves, and seemed unable to rise. -Appealing to me with a face of agony not to hurt his wife, he -bade her again and again lay down her axe; but she would not do -this until I had assured her that we meant him no harm, and that -my men should molest neither the one nor the other. - -'We only want to know this,' I said, speaking slowly, in fear -lest my language should be little more intelligible to them than -their PATOIS to me. 'There are a dozen horsemen in the old -castle there, are there not?' - -The man stilled his wife, who continued to chatter and mow at us, -and answered eagerly that there were; adding, with a trembling -oath, that the robbers had beaten him, robbed him of his small -store of meal, and when he would have protested, thrown him out, -breaking his leg. - -'Then how came you here?' I said. - -'She brought me on her back,' he answered feebly. - -Doubtless there were men in my train who would have done all that -these others had done; but hearing the simple story told, they -stamped and swore great oaths of indignation; and one, the -roughest of the party, took out some black bread and gave it to -the woman, whom under other circumstances he would not have -hesitated to rob. Maignan, who knew all arts appertaining to -war, examined the man's leg and made a kind of cradle for it, -while I questioned the woman. - -'They are there still?' I said. 'I saw their horses tethered -under the walls.' - -'Yes, God requite them!' she answered, trembling violently. - -'Tell me about the castle, my good woman,' I said. 'How many -roads into it are there?' - -'Only one.' - -'Through the nearer tower?' - -She said yes, and finding that she understood me, and was less -dull of intellect than her wretched appearance led me to expect, -I put a series of questions to her which it would be tedious to -detail. Suffice it that I learned that it was impossible to -enter or leave the ruin except through the nearer tower; that a -rickety temporary gate barred the entrance, and that from this -tower, which was a mere shell of four walls, a narrow square- -headed doorway without a door led into the court, beyond which -rose the habitable tower of two stories. - -'Do you know if they intend to stay there?' I asked - -'Oh, ay, they bade me bring them faggots for their fire this -morning, and I should have a handful of my own meal back,' she -answered bitterly; and fell thereon into a passion of impotent -rage, shaking both her clenched hands in the direction of the -castle, and screaming frenzied maledictions in her cracked and -quavering voice. - -I pondered awhile over what she had said; liking very little the -thought of that narrow square-headed doorway through which we -must pass before we could effect anything. And the gate, too, -troubled me. It might not be a strong one, but we had neither -powder, nor guns, nor any siege implements, and could not pull -down stone walls with our naked hands. By seizing the horses we -could indeed cut off Bruhl's retreat; but he might still escape -in the night; and in any case our pains would only increase the -women's hardships while adding fuel to his rage. We must have -some other plan. - -The sun was high by this time; the edge of the wood scarcely a -hundred paces from us. By advancing a few yards through the -trees I could see the horses feeding peacefully at the foot of -the sunny slope, and even follow with my eyes the faint track -which zigzagged up the hill to the closed gate. No one appeared ---doubtless they were sleeping off the fatigue of the journey-- -and I drew no inspiration thence; but as I turned to consult -Maignan my eye lit on the faggots, and I saw in a flash that here -was a chance of putting into practice a stratagem as old as the -hills, yet ever fresh, and not seldom successful. - -It was no time for over-refinement. My knaves were beginning to -stray forward out of curiosity, and at any moment one of our -horses, scenting those of the enemy, might neigh and give the -alarm. Hastily calling M. d'Agen and Maignan to me, I laid my -plan before them, and satisfied myself that it had their -approval; the fact that I had reserved a special part for the -former serving to thaw the reserve which had succeeded to his -outbreak of the night before. After some debate Maignan -persuaded me that the old woman had not sufficient nerve to play -the part I proposed for her, and named Fanchette; who being -called into council, did not belie the opinion we had formed of -her courage. In a few moments our preparations were complete: I -had donned the old charcoal-burner's outer rags, Fanchette had -assumed those of the woman, while M. d'Agen, who was for a time -at a loss, and betrayed less taste for this part of the plan than -for any other, ended by putting on the jerkin and hose of the man -who had served us as guide. - -When all was ready I commended the troop to Maignan's discretion, -charging him in the event of anything happening to us to continue -the most persistent efforts for mademoiselle's release, and on no -account to abandon her. Having received his promise to this -effect, and being satisfied that he would keep it, we took up -each of us a great faggot, which being borne on the head and -shoulders served to hide the features very effectually; and thus -disguised we boldly left the shelter of the trees. Fanchette and -I went first, tottering in a most natural fashion under the -weight of our burdens, while M. d'Agen followed a hundred yards -behind. I had given Maignan orders to make a dash for the gate -the moment he saw the last named start to run. - -The perfect stillness of the valley, the clearness of the air, -and the absence of any sign of life in the castle before us-- -which might have been that of the Sleeping Princess, so fairy- -like it looked against the sky--with the suspense and excitement -in our own breasts, which these peculiarities seemed to increase -a hundred-fold, made the time that followed one of the strangest -in my experience. It was nearly ten o'clock, and the warm -sunshine flooding everything about us rendered the ascent, laden -as we were, laborious in the extreme. The crisp, short turf, -which had scarcely got its spring growth, was slippery and -treacherous. We dared not hasten, for we knew not what eyes were -upon us, and we dared as little after we had gone half-way--lay -our faggots down, lest the action should disclose too much of our -features. - -When we had reached a point within a hundred paces of the gate, -which still remained obstinately closed, we stood to breathe -ourselves, and balancing my bundle on my head, I turned to make -sure that all was right behind us. I found that M. d'Agen, -intent on keeping his distance, had chosen the same moment for -rest, and was sitting in a very natural manner on his faggot, -mopping his face with the sleeve of his jerkin. I scanned the -brown leafless wood, in which we had left Maignan and our men; -but I could detect no glitter among the trees nor any appearance -likely to betray us. Satisfied on these points, I muttered a few -words of encouragement to Fanchette, whose face was streaming -with perspiration; and together we turned and addressed ourselves -to our task, fatigue--for we had had no practice in carrying -burdens on the head--enabling us to counterfeit the decrepitude -of age almost to the life. - -The same silence prevailing as we drew nearer inspired me with -not a few doubts and misgivings. Even the bleat of a sheep would -have been welcome in the midst of a stillness which seemed -ominous. But no sheep bleated, no voice hailed us. The gate, -ill-hung and full of fissures, remained closed. Step by step we -staggered up to it, and at length reached it. Afraid to speak -lest my accent should betray me, I struck the forepart of my -faggot against it and waited: doubting whether our whole -stratagem had not been perceived from the beginning, and a -pistol-shot might not be the retort. - -Nothing of the kind happened, however. The sound of the blow, -which echoed dully through the building, died away, and the old -silence resumed its sway. We knocked again, but fully two -minutes elapsed before a grumbling voice, as of a man aroused -from sleep, was heard drawing near, and footsteps came slowly and -heavily to the gate. Probably the fellow inspected us through a -loophole, for he paused a moment, and my heart sank; but the -next, seeing nothing suspicious, he unbarred the gate with a -querulous oath, and, pushing it open, bade us enter and be quick -about it. - -I stumbled forward into the cool, dark shadow, and the woman -followed me, while the man, stepping out with a yawn, stood in -the entrance, stretching himself in the sunshine. The roofless -tower, which smelled dank and unwholesome, was empty, or cumbered -only with rubbish and heaps of stones; but looking through the -inner door I saw in the courtyard a smouldering fire and half a -dozen men in the act of rousing themselves from sleep. I stood a -second balancing my faggot, as if in doubt where to lay it down; -and then assuring myself by a swift glance that the man who had -let us in still had his back towards us, I dropped it across the -inner doorway, Fanchette, as she had been instructed, plumped -hers upon it, and at the same moment I sprang to the door, and -taking the man there by surprise, dealt him a violent blow -between the shoulders, which sent him headlong down the slope. - -A cry behind me, followed by an oath of alarm, told me that the -action was observed and that now was the pinch. In a second I -was back at the faggots, and drawing a pistol from under my -blouse was in time to meet the rush of the nearest man, who, -comprehending all, sprang up, and made for me, with his sheathed -sword. I shot him in the chest as he cleared the faggots--which, -standing nearly as high as a man's waist, formed a tolerable -obstacle--and he pitched forward at my feet. - -This balked his companions, who drew back; but unfortunately it -was necessary for me to stoop to get my sword, which was hidden -in the faggot I had carried. The foremost of the rascals took -advantage of this. Rushing at me with a long knife, he failed to -stab me--for I caught his wrist--but he succeeded in bringing me -to the ground. I thought I was undone. I looked to have the -others swarm over upon us; and so it would doubtless have -happened had not Fanchette, with rare courage, dealt the first -who followed a lusty blow on the body with a great stick she -snatched up. The man collapsed on the faggots, and this hampered -the rest. The check was enough. It enabled M. d'Agen to come -up, who, dashing in through the gate, shot down the first he saw -before him, and running at the doorway with his sword with -incredible fury and the courage which I had always known him to -possess, cleared it in a twinkling. The man with whom I was -engaged on the ground, seeing what had happened, wrested himself -free with the strength of despair, and dashing through the outer -door, narrowly escaped being ridden down by my followers as they -swept up to the gate at a gallop, and dismounted amid a whirlwind -of cries. - -In a moment they thronged in on us pell-mell, and as soon as I -could lay my hand on my sword I led them through the doorway with -a cheer, hoping to be able to enter the farther tower with the -enemy. But the latter had taken the alarm too early and too -thoroughly. The court was empty. We were barely in time to see -the last man dart up a flight of outside stairs, which led to the -first story, and disappear, closing a heavy door behind him. I -rushed to the foot of the steps and would have ascended also, -hoping against hope to find the door unsecured; but a shot which -was fired through a loop hole and narrowly missed my head, and -another which brought down one of my men, made me pause. -Discerning all the advantage to be on Bruhl's side, since he -could shoot us down from his cover, I cried a retreat; the issue -of the matter leaving us masters of the entrance-tower, while -they retained the inner and stronger tower, the narrow court -between the two being neutral ground unsafe for either party. - -Two of their men had fled outwards and were gone, and two lay -dead; while the loss on our side was confined to the man who was -shot, and Fanchette, who had received a blow on the head in the -MELEE, and was found, when we retreated, lying sick and dazed -against the wall. - -It surprised me much, when I came to think upon it, that I had -seen nothing of Bruhl, though the skirmish had lasted two or -three minutes from the first outcry, and been attended by an -abundance of noise. Of Fresnoy, too, I now remembered that I had -caught a glimpse only. These two facts seemed so strange that I -was beginning to augur the worst, though I scarcely know why, -when my spirits were marvellously raised and my fears relieved by -a thing which Maignan, who was the first to notice it, pointed -out to me. This was the appearance at an upper window of a white -'kerchief, which was waved several times towards us. The window -was little more than an arrow-slit, and so narrow and high -besides that it was impossible to see who gave the signal; but my -experience of mademoiselle's coolness and resource left me in no -doubt on the point. With high hopes and a lighter heart than I -had worn for some time I bestirred myself to take every -precaution, and began by bidding Maignan select two men and ride -round the hill, to make sure that the enemy had no way of retreat -open to him. - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - -PESTILENCE AND FAMINE. - -While Maignan was away about this business I despatched two men -to catch our horses, which were running loose in the valley, and -to remove those of Bruhl's party to a safe distance from the -castle. I also blocked up the lower part of the door leading -into the courtyard, and named four men to remain under arms -beside it, that we might not be taken by surprise; an event of -which I had the less fear, however, since the enemy were now -reduced to eight swords, and could only escape, as we could only -enter, through this doorway. I was still busied with these -arrangements when M. d'Agen joined me, and I broke off to -compliment him on his courage, acknowledging in particular the -service he had done me personally. The heat of the conflict had -melted the young man's reserve, and flushed his face with pride; -but as he listened to me he gradually froze again, and when I -ended he regarded me with the same cold hostility. - -'I am obliged to you,' he said, bowing. 'But may I ask what -next, M. de Marsac?' - -'We have no choice,' I answered. 'We can only starve them out.' - -'But the ladies?' he said, starting slightly. 'What of them?' - -'They will suffer less than the men,' I replied. 'Trust me, the -latter will not bear starving long.' - -He seemed surprised, but I explained that with our small numbers -we could not hope to storm the tower, and might think ourselves -fortunate that we now had the enemy cooped up where he could not -escape, and must eventually surrender. - -'Ay, but in the meantime how will you ensure the women against -violence?' he asked, with an air which showed he was far from -satisfied. - -'I will see to that when Maignan comes back,' I answered pretty -confidently. - -The equerry appeared in a moment with the assurance that egress -from the farther side of the tower was impossible. I bade him -nevertheless keep a horseman moving round the hill, that we might -have intelligence of any attempt. The order was scarcely given -when a man--one of those I had left on guard at the door of the -courtyard--came to tell me that Fresnoy desired to speak with me -on behalf of M. de Bruhl. - -'Where is he?' I asked. - -'At the inner door with a flag of truce,' was the answer. - -'Tell him, then,' I said, without offering to move, 'that I will -communicate with no one except his leader, M. de Bruhl. And add -this, my friend,' I continued. 'Say it aloud that if the ladies -whom he has in charge are injured by so much as a hair, I will -hang every man within these walls, from M. de Bruhl to the -youngest lackey.' And I added a solemn oath to that effect. - -The man nodded, and went on his errand, while I and M. d'Agen, -with Maignan, remained standing outside the gate, looking idly -over the valley and the brown woods through which we had ridden -in the early morning. My eyes rested chiefly on the latter, -Maignan's as it proved on the former. Doubtless we all had our -own thoughts. Certainly I had, and for a while, in my -satisfaction at the result of the attack and the manner in which -we had Bruhl confined, I did not remark the gravity which was -gradually overspreading the equerry's countenance. When I did I -took the alarm, and asked him sharply what was the matter. 'I -don't like that, your Excellency,' he answered, pointing into the -valley. - -I looked anxiously, and looked, and saw nothing. - -'What?' I said in astonishment. - -'The blue mist,' he muttered, with a shiver. 'I have been -watching it this half-hour, your Excellency. It is rising fast.' - -I cried out on him for a maudlin fool, and M. d'Agen swore -impatiently; but for all that, and despite the contempt I strove -to exhibit, I felt a sudden chill at my heart as I recognised in -the valley below the same blue haze which had attended us through -yesterday's ride, and left us only at nightfall. Involuntarily -we both fell to watching it as it rose slowly and more slowly, -first enveloping the lower woods, and then spreading itself -abroad in the sunshine. It is hard to witness a bold man's -terror and remain unaffected by it; and I confess I trembled. -Here, in the moment of our seeming success, was something which I -had not taken into account, something against which I could not -guard either myself or others! - -'See!' Maignan whispered hoarsely, pointing again with his -linger. 'It is the Angel of Death, your Excellency! Where he -kills by ones and twos, he is invisible. But when he slays by -hundreds and by thousands, men see the shadow of his wings!' - -'Chut, fool!' I retorted with, anger, which was secretly -proportioned to the impression his weird saying made on me. 'You -have been in battles! Did you ever see him there? or at a sack? -A truce to this folly,' I continued. 'And do you go and inquire -what food we have with us. It may be necessary to send for -some.' - -I watched him go doggedly off, and knowing the stout nature of -the man and his devotion to his master, I had no fear that he -would fail us; but there were others, almost as necessary to us, -in whom I could not place the same confidence. And these had -also taken the alarm. When I turned I found groups of pale-faced -men, standing by twos and threes at my back; who, pointing and -muttering and telling one another what Maignan had told us, -looked where we had looked. As one spoke and another listened, I -saw the old panic revive in their eyes. Men who an hour or two -before had crossed the court under fire with the utmost -resolution, and dared instant death without a thought, grew pale, -and looking from this side of the valley to that; with faltering -eyes, seemed to be seeking, like hunted animals, a place of -refuge. Fear, once aroused, hung is the air. Men talked in -whispers of the abnormal heat, and, gazing at the cloudless sky, -fled from the sunshine to the shadow; or, looking over the -expanse of woods, longed to be under cover and away from this -lofty eyrie, which to their morbid eyes seemed a target for all -the shafts of death. - -'I was not slow to perceive the peril with which these fears and -apprehensions, which rapidly became general, threatened my plans. -I strove to keep the men employed, and to occupy their thoughts -as far as possible with the enemy and his proceedings; but I soon -found that even here a danger lurked; for Maignan, coming to me -by-and-by with a grave face, told me that one of Bruhl's men had -ventured out, and was parleying with the guard on our side of the -court. I went at once and broke the matter off, threatening to -shoot the fellow if he was not under cover before I counted ten. -But the scared, sultry faces he left behind him told me that the -mischief was done, and I could think of no better remedy for it -than to give M. d'Agen a hint, and station him at the outer gate -with his pistols ready. - -The question of provisions, too, threatened to become a serious -one; I dared not leave to procure them myself, nor could I trust -any of my men with the mission. In fact the besiegers were -rapidly becoming the besieged. Intent on the rising haze and -their own terrors, they forgot all else. Vigilance and caution -were thrown to the winds. The stillness of the valley, its -isolation, the distant woods that encircled us and hung quivering -in the heated air, all added to the panic. Despite all my -efforts and threats, the men gradually left their posts, and -getting together in little parties at the gate, worked themselves -up to such a pitch of dread that by two hours after noon they -were fit for any folly; and at the mere cry of 'plague!' would -have rushed to their horses and ridden in every direction. - -It was plain that I could depend for useful service on myself and -three others only--of whom, to his credit be it said, Simon Fleix -was one. Seeing this, I was immensely relieved when I presently -heard that Fresnoy was again seeking to speak with me. I was no -longer, it will be believed, for standing on formalities; but -glad to waive in silence the punctilio on which I had before -insisted, and anxious to afford him no opportunity of marking the -slackness which prevailed among my men, I hastened to meet him at -the door of the courtyard where Maignan had detained him. - -I might have spared my pains, however. I had no more than -saluted him and exchanged the merest preliminaries before I saw -that he was in a state of panic far exceeding that of my -following. His coarse face, which had never been prepossessing, -was mottled and bedabbled with sweat; his bloodshot eyes, when -they met mine, wore the fierce yet terrified expression of an -animal caught in a trap. Though his first word was an oath, -sworn for the purpose of raising his courage, the bully's bluster -was gone. He spoke in a low voice, and his hands shook; and for -a penny-piece I saw he would have bolted past me and taken his -chance in open flight. - -I judged from his first words, uttered, as I have said, with an -oath, that he was aware of his state. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, -whining like a cur, 'you know me, to be a man of courage.' - -I needed nothing after this to assure me that he meditated -something of the basest; and I took care how I answered him. 'I -have known you stiff enough upon occasions,' I replied drily. -'And then, again, I have known you not so stiff, M. Fresnoy.' - -'Only when you were in question,' he muttered with another oath. -'But flesh and blood cannot stand this. You could not yourself. -Between him and them I am fairly worn out. Give me good terms-- -good terms, you understand, M. de Marsac?' he whispered eagerly, -sinking his voice still lower, 'and you shall have all you want.' - -'Your lives, and liberty to go where you please,' I answered -coldly. 'The two ladies to be first given up to me uninjured. -Those are the terms.' - -'But for me?' he said anxiously. - -'For you? The same as the others,' I retorted. 'Or I will make -a distinction for old acquaintance sake, M. Fresnoy; and if the -ladies have aught to complain of, I will hang you first.' - -He tried to bluster and hold out for a sum of money, or at least -for his horse to be given up to him. But I had made up my mind -to reward my followers with a present of a horse apiece; and I -was besides well aware that this was only an afterthought on his -part, and that he had fully decided to yield. I stood fast, -therefore. The result justified my firmness, for he presently -agreed to surrender on those terms. - -'Ay, but M. de Bruhl?' I said, desiring to learn clearly whether -he had authority to treat for all. 'What of him?' - -He looked at me impatiently. 'Come and see!' he said, with an -ugly sneer. - -'No, no, my friend,' I answered, shaking my head warily. 'That -is not according to rule. You are the surrendering party, and it -is for you to trust us. Bring out the ladies, that I may have -speech with them, and then I will draw off my men.' - -'Nom de Dieu!' he cried hoarsely, with so much fear and rage in -his face that I recoiled from him. 'That is just what I cannot -do.' - -'You cannot?' I rejoined with a sudden thrill of horror. 'Why -not? why not, man?' And in the excitement of the moment, -conceiving the idea that the worst had happened to the women, I -pushed him back with so much fury that he laid his hand on his -sword. - -'Confound you!' he stuttered, 'stand back! It is not that, I -tell you! Mademoiselle is safe and sound, and madame, if she had -her senses, would be sound too. It is not our fault if she is -not. But I have not got the key of the rooms. It is in Bruhl's -pocket, I tell you!' - -'Oh!' I made answer drily. 'And Bruhl?' - -'Hush, man,' Fresnoy replied, wiping the perspiration from his -brow, and bringing his pallid, ugly face, near to mine, 'he has -got the plague!' - -I stared at him for a moment in silence; which he was the first -to break. 'Hush!' he muttered again, laying a trembling hand on -my arm, 'if the men knew it--and not seeing him they are beginning -to suspect it--they would rise on us. The devil himself could -not keep them here. Between him and them I am on a razor's edge. -Madame is with him, and the door is locked. Mademoiselle is in a -room upstairs, and the door is locked. And he has the keys. -What can I do? What can I do, man?' he cried, his voice hoarse -with terror and dismay. - -'Get the keys,' I said instinctively. - -'What?' From him?' he muttered, with an irrepressible shudder, -which shook his bloated cheeks. 'God forbid I should see him! -It takes stout men infallibly. I should be dead by night! By -God, I should!' he continued, whining. 'Now you are not stout, -M. de Marsac. If you will come with me I will draw off the men -from that part; and you may go in and get the key from him.' - -His terror, which surpassed all feeling, and satisfied me without -doubt that he was in earnest, was so intense that it could not -fail to infect me. I felt my face, as I looked into his, grow to -the same hue. I trembled as he did and grew sick. For if there -is a word which blanches the soldier's cheek and tries his heart -more than another, it is the name of the disease which travels in -the hot noonday, and, tainting the strongest as he rides in his -pride, leaves him in a few hours a poor mass of corruption. The -stoutest and the most reckless fear it; nor could I, more than -another, boast myself indifferent to it, or think of its presence -without shrinking. But the respect in which a man of birth holds -himself saves him from the unreasoning fear which masters the -vulgar; and in a moment I recovered myself, and made up my mind -what it behoved me to do. - -'Wait awhile,' I said sternly, 'and I will come with you.' - -He waited accordingly, though with manifest impatience, while I -sent for M. d'Agen, and communicated to him what I was about to -do. I did not think it necessary to enter into details, or to -mention Bruhl's state, for some of the men were well in hearing. -I observed that the young gentleman received my directions with a -gloomy and dissatisfied air. But I had become by this time so -used to his moods, and found myself so much mistaken in his -character, that I scarcely gave the matter a second thought. I -crossed the court with Fresnoy, and in a moment had mounted the -outside staircase and passed through the heavy doorway. - -The moment I entered, I was forced to do Fresnoy the justice of -admitting that he had not come to me before he was obliged. The -three men who were on guard inside tossed down their weapons at -sight of me, while a fourth, who was posted at a neighbouring -window, hailed me with a cry of relief. From the moment I -crossed the threshold the defence was practically at an end. I -might, had I chosen or found it consistent with honour, have -called in my following and secured the entrance. Without -pausing, however, I passed on to the foot of a gloomy stone -staircase winding up between walls of rough masonry; and here -Fresnoy stood on one side and stopped. He pointed upwards with a -pale face and muttered,'The door on the left.' - -Leaving him there watching me as I went upwards, I mounted slowly -to the landing, and by the light of an arrow-slit which dimly lit -the ruinous place found the door he had described, and tried it -with my hand. It was locked, but I heard someone moan in the -room, and a step crossed the floor, as if he or another came to -the door and listened. I knocked, hearing my heart beat in the -silence. At last a voice quite strange to me cried, 'Who is it?' - -'A friend,' I muttered, striving to dull my voice that they might -not hear me below. - -'A friend!' the bitter answer came. 'Go! You have made a -mistake! We have no friends.' - -'It is I, M. de Marsac,' I rejoined, knocking more imperatively. -'I would see M. de Bruhl. I must see him.' - -The person inside, at whose identity I could now make a guess, -uttered a low exclamation, and still seemed to hesitate. But on -my repeating my demand I heard a rusty bolt withdrawn, and Madame -de Bruhl, opening the door a few inches, showed her face in the -gap. 'What do you want?' she murmured jealously. - -Prepared as I was to see her, I was shocked by the change in her -appearance, a change which even that imperfect light failed to -hide. Her blue eyes had grown larger and harder, and there were -dark marks under them. Her face, once so brilliant, was grey and -pinched; her hair had lost its golden lustre. 'What do you -want?' she repeated, eyeing me fiercely. - -'To see him,' I answered. - -'You know?' she muttered. 'You know that he--' - -I nodded. - -And you still want to come in? My God! Swear you will not hurt -him?' - -'Heaven forbid!' I said; and on that she held the door open that -I might enter. But I was not half-way across the room before she -had passed me, and was again between me and the wretched -makeshift pallet. Nay, when I stood and looked down at him, as -he moaned and rolled in senseless agony, with livid face and -distorted features (which the cold grey light of that miserable -room rendered doubly appalling), she hung over him and fenced him -from me: so that looking on him and her, and remembering how he -had treated her, and why he came to be in this place, I felt -unmanly tears rise to my eyes. The room was still a prison, a -prison with broken mortar covering the floor and loopholes for -windows; but the captive was held by other chains than those of -force. When she might have gone free, her woman's love surviving -all that he had done to kill it, chained her to his side with -fetters which old wrongs and present danger were powerless to -break. - -It was impossible that I could view a scene so strange without -feelings of admiration as well as pity; or without forgetting for -a while, in my respect for Madame de Bruhl's devotion, the risk -which had seemed so great to me on the stairs. I had come simply -for a purpose of my own, and with no thought of aiding him who -lay here. But so great, as I have noticed on other occasions, is -the power of a noble example, that, before I knew it, I found -myself wondering what I could do to help this man, and how I -could relieve madame, in the discharge of offices which her -husband had as little right to expect at her hands as at mine. -At the mere sound of the word Plague I knew she would be deserted -in this wilderness by all, or nearly all; a reflection which -suggested to me that I should first remove mademoiselle to a -distance, and then consider what help I could afford here. - -I was about to tell her the purpose with which I had come when a -paroxysm more than ordinarily violent, and induced perhaps by the -excitement of my presence--though he seemed beside himself-- -seized him, and threatened to tax her powers to the utmost. I -could not look on and see her spend herself in vain; and almost -before I knew what I was doing I had laid my hands on him and -after a brief struggle thrust him back exhausted on the couch. - -She looked at me so strangely after that that in the half-light -which the loopholes afforded I tried in vain to read her meaning. -'Why did you come?' she cried at length, breathing quickly. -'You, of all men? Why did you come? He was no friend of yours, -Heaven knows!' - -'No, madame, nor I of his,' I answered bitterly, -with a sudden revulsion of feeling. - -'Then why are you here?' she retorted. - -'I could not send one of my men,' I answered. 'And I want the -key of the room above.' - -At the mention of that the room above--she flinched as if I had -struck her, and looked as strangely at Bruhl as she had before -looked at me. No doubt the reference to Mademoiselle de la Vire -recalled to her mind her husband's wild passion for the girl, -which for the moment she had forgotten. Nevertheless she did not -speak, though her face turned very pale. She stooped over the -couch, such as it was, and searching his clothes, presently stood -up, and held out the key to me. 'Take it, and let her out,' she -said with a forced smile. 'Take it up yourself, and do it. You -have done so much for her it is right that you should do this.' - -I took the key, thanking her with more haste than thought, and -turned towards the door, intending to go straight up to the floor -above and release mademoiselle. My hand was already on the door, -which madame, I found, had left ajar in the excitement of my -entrance, when I heard her step behind me. The next instant she -touched me on the shoulder. 'You fool!' she exclaimed, her eyes -flashing, 'would you kill her?' Would you go from him to her, -and take the plague to her? God forgive me, it was in my mind to -send you. And men are such puppets you would have gone!' - -I trembled with horror, as much at my stupidity as at her craft. -For she was right: in another moment I should have gone, and -comprehension and remorse would have come too late. As it was, -in my longing at once to reproach her for her wickedness and to -thank her for her timely repentance, I found no words; but I -turned away in silence and went out with a full heart. - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - -STRICKEN. - -Outside the door, standing in the dimness of the landing, I found -M. d'Agen. At any other time I should have been the first to ask -him why he had left the post which I had assigned to him. But at -the moment I was off my balance, and his presence suggested -nothing more than that here was the very person who could best -execute my wishes. I held out the key to him at arms length, and -bade him release Mademoiselle de la Vire, who was in the room -above, and escort her out of the castle. 'Do not let her linger -here,' I continued urgently. 'Take her to the place where we -found the wood-cutters. You need fear no resistance.' - -'But Bruhl?' he said, as he took the key mechanically from me. - -'He is out of the question,' I answered in a low voice. 'We have -done with him. He has the plague.' - -He uttered a sharp exclamation. 'What of madame, then?' he -muttered. - -'She is with him,' I said. - -He cried out suddenly at that, sucking in his breath, as I have -known men do in pain. And but that I drew back he would have -laid his hand on my sleeve. 'With him?' he stammered. 'How is -that?' - -'Why, man, where else should she be?' I answered, forgetting -that the sight of those two together had at first surprised me -also, as well as moved me. 'Or who else should be with him? He -is her husband.' - -He stared at me for a moment at that, and then he turned slowly -away and began to go up; while I looked after him, gradually -thinking out the clue to his conduct. Could it be that it was -not mademoiselle attracted him, but Madame de Bruhl? - -And with that hint I understood it all. I saw in a moment; the -conclusion to which he had come on hearing of the presence of -madame in my room. In my room at night! The change had dated -from that time; instead of a careless, light-spirited youth he -had become in a moment a morose and restive churl, as difficult -to manage as an unbroken colt. Quite clearly I saw now the -meaning of the change; why he had shrunk from me, and why all -intercourse between us had been so difficult; and so constrained. - -I laughed to think how he had deceived himself, and how nearly I -had come to deceiving myself also. And what more I might have -thought I do not know, for my meditations were cut short at this -point by a loud outcry below, which, beginning in one or two -sharp cries of alarm and warning, culminated quickly in a roar of -anger and dismay. - -Fancying I recognised Maignan's voice, I ran down the stairs, -seeking a loophole whence I could command the scene; but finding -none, and becoming more and more alarmed, I descended to the -court, which I found, to my great surprise, as empty and silent -as an old battle-field. Neither on the enemy's side nor on ours -was a single man to be seen. With growing dismay I sprang across -the court and darted through the outer tower, only to find that -and the gateway equally unguarded. Nor was it until I had passed -through the latter, and stood on the brow of the slope, which we -had had to clamber with so much toil, that I learned what was -amiss. - -Far below me a string of men, bounding and running at speed, -streamed down the hill towards the horses. Some were shouting, -some running silently, with their elbows at their sides and their -scabbards leaping against their calves. The horses stood -tethered in a ring near the edge of the wood, and by some -oversight had been left unguarded. The foremost runner I made -out to be Fresnoy; but a number of his men were close upon him, -and then after an interval came Maignan, waving his blade and -emitting frantic threats with every stride. Comprehending at -once that Fresnoy and his following, rendered desperate by panic -and the prospective loss of their horses, had taken advantage of -my absence and given Maignan the slip, I saw I could do nothing -save watch the result of the struggle. - -This was not long delayed. Maignan's threats, which seemed to me -mere waste of breath, were not without effect on those he -followed. There is nothing which demoralises men like flight. -Troopers who have stood charge after charge while victory was -possible will fly like sheep, and like sheep allow themselves to -he butchered, when they have once turned the back. So it was -here. Many of Fresnoy's men were stout fellows, but having -started to run they had no stomach for fighting. Their fears -caused Maignan to appear near, while the horses seemed distant; -and one after another they turned aside and made like rabbits for -the wood. Only Fresnoy, who had taken care to have the start of -all, kept on, and, reaching the horses, cut the rope which -tethered the nearest, and vaulted nimbly on its back. Safely -seated there, he tried to frighten the others into breaking -loose; but not succeeding at the first attempt, and seeing -Maignan, breathing vengeance, coming up with him, he started his -horse, a bright bay, and rode off laughing along the edge of the -wood. - -Fully content with the result--for our carelessness might have -cost us very dearly--I was about to turn away when I saw that -Maignan had mounted and was preparing to follow. I stayed -accordingly to see the end, and from my elevated position enjoyed -a first-rate view of the race which ensued. Both were heavy -weights, and at first Maignan gained no ground. But when a -couple of hundred yards had been covered Fresnoy had the ill-luck -to blunder into some heavy ground, and this enabling his pursuer, -who had time to avoid it, to get within two-score paces of him, -the race became as exciting as I could wish. Slowly and surely -Maignan, who had chosen the Cid, reduced the distance between -them to a score of paces--to fifteen--to ten. Then Fresnoy, -becoming alarmed, began to look over his shoulder and ride in -earnest. He had no whip, and I saw him raise his sheathed sword, -and strike his beast on the flank. It sprang forward, and -appeared for a few strides to be holding its own. Again he -repeated the blow but this time with a different result. While -his hand was still in the air, his horse stumbled, as it seemed -to me, made a desperate effort to recover itself, fell headlong -and rolled over and over. - -Something in the fashion of the fall, which reminded me of the -mishap I had suffered on the way to Chize led me to look more -particularly at the horse as it rose trembling to its feet, and -stood with drooping head. Sure enough, a careful glance enabled -me, even at that distance, to identify it as Matthew's bay--the -trick-horse. Shading my eyes, and gazing on the scene with -increased interest, I saw Maignan, who had dismounted, stoop over -something on the ground, and again after an interval stand -upright. - -But Fresnoy did not rise. Nor was it without awe that, guessing -what had happened to him, I remembered how he had used this very -horse to befool me; how heartlessly he had abandoned Matthew, its -owner; and by what marvellous haps--which men call chances-- -Providence had brought it to this place, and put it in his heart -to choose it out of a score which stood ready to his hand! - -I was right. The man's neck was broken. He was quite dead. -Maignan passed the word to one, and he to another, and so it -reached me on the hill. It did not fail to awaken memories both -grave and wholesome. I thought of St. Jean d'Angely, of Chize, -of the house in the Ruelle d'Arcy; then in the midst of these -reflections I heard voices, and turned to find mademoiselle, with -M. d'Agen behind me. - -Her hand was still bandaged, and her dress, which she had not -changed since leaving Blois, was torn and stained with mud. Her -hair was in disorder; she walked with a limp. Fatigue and -apprehension had stolen the colour from her cheeks, and in a word -she looked, when I turned, so wan and miserable that for a moment -I feared the plague had seized her. - -The instant, however, that she caught sight of me a wave of -colour invaded, not her cheeks only, but her brow and neck. From -her hair to the collar of her gown she was all crimson. For a -second she stood gazing at me, and then, as I saluted her, she -sprang forward. Had I not stepped back she would have taken my -hands. - -My heart so overflowed with joy at this sight, that in the -certainty her blush gave me I was fain to toy with my happiness. -All jealousy of M. d'Agen was forgotten; only I thought it well -not to alarm her by telling her what I knew of the Bruhls. -'Mademoiselle,' I said earnestly, bowing, but retreating from -her, 'I thank God for your escape. One of your enemies lies -helpless here, and another is dead yonder.' - -'It is not of my enemies I am thinking,' she answered quickly, -'but of God, of whom you rightly remind me; and then of my -friends.' - -'Nevertheless,' I answered as quickly, 'I beg you will not stay -to thank them now, but go down to the wood with M. d'Agen, who -will do all that may be possible to make you comfortable.' - -'And you, sir?' she said, with a charming air of confusion. - -'I must stay here,' I answered, 'for a while.' - -'Why?' she asked with a slight frown. - -I did not know how to tell her, and I began lamely. 'Someone -must stop with madame,' I said without thought. - -'Madame?' she exclaimed. 'Does she require assistance? I will -stop.' - -'God forbid!' I cried. - -I do not know how she understood the words, but her face, which -had been full of softness, grew hard. She moved quickly towards -me; but, mindful of the danger I carried about me, I drew farther -back. 'No nearer, mademoiselle,' I murmured, 'if you please.' - -She looked puzzled, and finally angry, turning away with a -sarcastic bow. 'So be it, then, sir,' she said proudly, 'if you -desire it. M. d'Agen, if you are not afraid of me, will you lead -me down?' - -I stood and watched them go down the hill, comforting myself with -the reflection that to-morrow, or the next day, or within a few -days at most, all would be well. Scanning her figure as she -moved, I fancied that she went with less spirit as the space -increased between us. And I pleased myself with the notion. A -few days, a few hours, I thought, and all would be well. The -sunset which blazed in the west was no more than a faint -reflection of the glow which for a few minutes pervaded my mind, -long accustomed to cold prospects and the chill of neglect. - -A term was put to these pleasant imaginings by the arrival of -Maignan; who, panting from the ascent of the hill, informed me -with a shamefaced air that the tale of horses was complete, but -that four of our men were missing, and had doubtless gone off -with the fugitives. These proved to be M. d'Agen's two lackeys -and the two varlets M. de Rambouillet had lent us. There -remained besides Simon Fleix only Maignan's three men from Rosny; -but the state in which our affairs now stood enabled us to make -light of this. I informed the equerry--who visibly paled at the -news--that M. de Bruhl lay ill of the plague, and like to die; -and I bade him form a camp in the wood below, and, sending for -food to the house where we had slept the night before, make -mademoiselle as comfortable as circumstances permitted. - -He listened with surprise, and when I had done asked with concern -what I intended to do myself. - -'Someone must remain with Madam de Bruhl,' I answered. 'I have -already been to the bedside to procure the key of mademoiselle's -room, and I run no farther risk. All I ask is that you will -remain in the neighbourhood, and furnish us with supplies should -it be necessary.' - -He looked at me with emotion, which, strongly in conflict with -his fears as it was, touched me not a little. 'But morbleu! M. -de Marsac,' he said, 'you will take the plague and die.' - -'If God wills,' I answered, very lugubriously I confess, for pale -looks in one commonly so fearless could not but depress me. 'But -if not, I shall escape. Any way, my friend,' I continued, 'I owe -you a quittance. Simon Fleix has an inkhorn and paper. Bid him -bring them to this stone and leave them, and I will write that -Maignan, the equerry of the Baron de Rosny, served me to the end -as a brave soldier and an honest friend. 'What, MON AMI?' I -continued, for I saw that he was overcome by this, which was, -indeed, a happy thought of mine. 'Why not? It is true, and will -acquit you with the Baron. Do it, and go. Advise M. d'Agen, and -be to him what you have been to me.' - -He swore two or three great oaths, such as men of his kind use to -hide an excess of feeling, and after some further remonstrance -went away to carry out my orders; leaving me to stand on the brow -in a strange kind of solitude, and watch horses and men withdraw -to the wood, until the whole valley seemed left to me and -stillness and the grey evening. For a time I stood in thought. -Then reminding myself, for a fillip to my spirits, that I had -been far more alone when I walked the streets of St. Jean -friendless and threadbare (than I was now), I turned, and -swinging my scabbard against my boots for company, stumbled -through the dark, silent courtyard, and mounted as cheerfully as -I could to madame's room. - -To detail all that passed during the next five days would be -tedious and in indifferent taste, seeing that I am writing this -memoir for the perusal of men of honour; for though I consider -the offices which the whole can perform for the sick to be worthy -of the attention of every man, however well born, who proposes to -see service, they seem to be more honourable in the doing than -the telling. One episode, however, which marked those days -filled me then, as it does now, with the most lively pleasure; -and that was the unexpected devotion displayed by Simon Fleix, -who, coming to me, refused to leave, and showed himself at this -pinch to be possessed of such sterling qualities that I freely -forgave him the deceit he had formerly practised on me. The fits -of moody silence into which he still fell at times and an -occasional irascibility seemed to show that he had not altogether -conquered his insane fancy; but the mere fact that; he had come -to me in a situation of hazard, and voluntarily removed himself -from mademoiselle's neighbourhood, gave me good hope for the -future. - -M. de Bruhl died early on the morning of the second day, and -Simon and I buried him at noon. He was a man of courage and -address, lacking only principles. In spite of madame's grief and -prostration, which were as great as though she had lost the best -husband in the world, we removed before night to a separate camp -in the woods; and left with the utmost relief the grey ruin on -the hill, in which, it seemed to me, we had lived an age. In our -new bivouac, where, game being abundant, and the weather warm, we -lacked no comfort, except the society of our friends, we remained -four days longer. On the fifth morning we met the others of our -company by appointment on the north road, and commenced the -return journey. - -Thankful that we had escaped contagion, we nevertheless still -proposed to observe for a time such precautions in regard to the -others as seemed necessary; riding in the rear and having no -communication with them, though they showed by signs the pleasure -they felt at seeing us. From the frequency with which -mademoiselle turned and looked behind her, I judged she had -overcome her pique at my strange conduct; which the others should -by this time have explained to her. Content, therefore, with the -present, and full of confidence in the future, I rode along in a -rare state of satisfaction; at one moment planning what I would -do, and at another reviewing what I had done. - -The brightness and softness of the day, and the beauty of the -woods, which in some places, I remember, were bursting into leaf, -contributed much to establish me in this frame of mind. The -hateful mist, which had so greatly depressed us, had disappeared; -leaving the face of the country visible in all the brilliance of -early spring. The men who rode before us, cheered by the happy -omen, laughed and talked as they rode, or tried the paces of -their horses, where the trees grew sparsely; and their jests and -laughter coming pleasantly to our ears as we followed, warmed -even madame's sad face to a semblance of happiness. - -I was riding along in this state of contentment when a feeling of -fatigue, which the distance we had come did not seem to justify, -led me to spur the Cid into a brisker pace. The sensation of -lassitude still continued, however, and indeed grew worse; so -that I wondered idly whether I had over-eaten myself at my last -meal. Then the thing passed for awhile from my mind, which the -descent of a steep hill sufficiently occupied. - -But a few minutes later, happening to turn in the saddle, I -experienced a strange and sudden dizziness; so excessive as to -force me to grasp the cantle, and cling to it, while trees and -hills appeared to dance round me. A quick, hot pain in the side -followed, almost before I recovered the power of thought; and -this increased so rapidly, and was from the first so definite, -that, with a dreadful apprehension already formed in my mind, I -thrust my hand inside my clothes, and found that swelling which -is the most sure and deadly symptom of the plague. - -The horror of that moment--in which I saw all those things on the -possession of which I had just been congratulating myself, pass -hopelessly from me, leaving me in dreadful gloom--I will not -attempt to describe in this place. Let it suffice that the world -lost in a moment its joyousness, the sunshine its warmth. The -greenness and beauty round me, which an instant before had filled -me with pleasure, seemed on a sudden no more than a grim and -cruel jest at my expense, and I an atom perishing unmarked and -unnoticed. Yes, an atom, a mote; the bitterness of that feeling -I well remember. Then, in no long time--being a soldier--I -recovered my coolness, and, retaining the power to think, decided -what it behoved me to do. - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - -UNDER THE GREENWOOD. - -To escape from my companions on some pretext, which should enable -me to ensure their safety without arousing their fears, was the -one thought which possessed me on the subsidence of my first -alarm. Probably it answered to that instinct in animals which -bids them get away alone when wounded or attacked by disease; and -with me it had the fuller play as the pain prevailed rather by -paroxysms, than in permanence, and, coming and going, allowed -intervals of ease, in which I was able to think clearly and -consecutively, and even to sit firmly in the saddle. - -The moment one of these intervals enabled me to control myself, I -used it to think where I might go without danger to others; and -at once and naturally my thoughts turned to the last place we had -passed; which happened to be the house in the gorge where we had -received news of Bruhl's divergence from the road. The man who -lived there alone had had the plague; therefore he did not fear -it. The place itself was solitary, and I could reach it, riding -slowly, in half an hour. On the instant and without more delay I -determined on this course. I would return, and, committing -myself to the fellow's good offices, bid him deny me to others, -and especially to my friends--should they seek me. - -Aware that I bad no time to lose if I would put this plan into -execution before the pains returned to sap my courage, I drew -bridle at once, and muttered some excuse to madame; if I remember -rightly, that I had dropped my gauntlet. Whatever the pretext-- -and my dread was great lest she should observe any strangeness in -my manner--it passed with her; by reason, chiefly, I think, of -the grief which monopolised her. She let me go, and before -anyone else could mark or miss me I was a hundred yards away on -the back-track, and already sheltered from observation by a turn -in the road. - -The excitement of my evasion supported me for a while after -leaving her; and then for another while, a paroxysm of pain -deprived me of the power of thought. But when this last was -over, leaving me weak and shaken, yet clear in my mind, the most -miserable sadness and depression that can be conceived came upon -me; and, accompanying me through the wood, filled its avenues -(which doubtless were fair enough to others' eyes) with the -blackness of despair. I saw but the charnel-house, and that -everywhere. It was not only that the horrors of the first -discovery returned upon me and almost unmanned me; nor only that -regrets and memories, pictures of the past and plans for the -future, crowded thick upon my mind, so that I could have wept at -the thought of all ending here. But in my weakness -mademoiselle's face shone where the wood was darkest, and, -tempting and provoking me to return--were it only to tell her -that, grim and dull as I seemed, I loved her--tried me with a -subtle temptation almost beyond my strength to resist. All that -was mean in me rose in arms, all that was selfish clamoured to -know why I must die in the ditch while others rode in the -sunshine; why I must go to the pit, while others loved and lived! - -And so hard was I pressed that I think I should have given way -had the ride been longer or my horse less smooth and nimble. But -in the midst of my misery, which bodily pain was beginning to -augment to such a degree that I could scarcely see, and had to -ride gripping the saddle with both hands, I reached the mill. My -horse stopped of its own accord. The man we had seen before came -out. I had I just strength left to tell him what was the matter, -and what I wanted and then a fresh attack came on, with sickness, -and overcome by vertigo I fell to the ground. - -I have but an indistinct idea what happened after that; until I -found myself inside the house, clinging to the man's arm. He -pointed to a box-bed in one corner of the room (which was, or -seemed to my sick eyes, gloomy and darksome in the extreme), and -would have had me lie down in it. But something inside me -revolted against the bed, and despite the force he used, I broke -away, and threw myself on a heap of straw which I saw in another -corner. - -'Is not the, bed good enough for you?' he grumbled. - -I strove to tell him it was not that. - -'It should be good enough to die on,' he continued brutally. -'There's five have died on that bed, I'd have you know! My wife -one, and my son another, and my daughter another; and then my son -again, and a daughter again. Five! Ay, five in that bed!' - -Brooding in the gloom of the chimney-corner, where he was busied -about a black pot, he continued to mutter and glance at me -askance; but after a while I swooned away with pain. - -When I opened my eyes again the room was darker. The man still -sat where I had last seen him, but a noise, the same, perhaps, -which had roused me, drew him as I looked to the unglazed window. -A voice outside, the tones of which I seemed to know, inquired if -he had seen me; and so carried away was I by the excitement of -the moment that I rose on my elbow to hear the answer. But the -man was staunch. I heard him deny all knowledge of me, and -presently the sound of retreating hoofs and the echo of voices -dying in the distance assured me I was left. - -Then, at that instant, a doubt of the man on whose compassion I -had thrown myself entered my mind. Plague-stricken, hopeless as -I was, it chilled me to the very heart; staying in a moment the -feeble tears I was about to shed, and curing even the vertigo, -which forced me to clutch at the straw on which I lay. Whether -the thought arose from a sickly sense of my own impotence, or was -based on the fellow's morose air and the stealthy glances he -continued to cast at me, I am as unable to say as I am to decide -whether it was well-founded, or the fruit of my own fancy. -Possibly the gloom of the room and the man's surly words inclined -me to suspicion; possibly his secret thoughts portrayed -themselves in his hang-dog visage. Afterwards it appeared that -he had stripped me, while I lay, of everything of value; but he -may have done this in the belief that I should die. - -All I know is that I knew nothing certain, because the fear died -almost as soon as it was born. The man had scarcely seated -himself again, or I conceived the thought, when a second alarm -outside caused him to spring to his feet. Scowling and muttering -as he went, he hurried to the window. But before he reached it -the door was dashed violently open, and Simon Fleix stood in the -entrance. - -There came in with him so blessed a rush of light and life as in -a moment dispelled the horror of the room, and stripped me at one -and the same time of fear and manhood. For whether I would or -no, at sight of the familiar face, which I had fled so lately, I -burst into tears; and, stretching out my hands to him, as a -frightened child might have done, called on him by name. I -suppose the plague was by this time so plainly written on my face -that all who looked might read; for he stood at gaze, staring at -me, and was still so standing when a hand put him aside and a -slighter, smaller figure, pale-faced and hooded, stood for a -moment between me and the sunshine. It was mademoiselle! - -That, I thank God, restored me to myself, or I had been for ever -shamed. I cried to them with all the voice I had left to take -her away; and calling out frantically again and again that I had -the plague and she would die, I bade the man close the door. -Nay, regaining something of strength in my fear for her, I rose -up, half-dressed as I was, and would have fled into some corner -to avoid her, still calling out to them to take her away, to take -her away--if a fresh paroxysm had not seized me, so that I fell -blind and helpless where I was. - -For a time after that I knew nothing; until someone held water to -my lips, and I drank greedily, and presently awoke to the fact -that the entrance was dark with faces and figures all gazing at -me as I lay. But I could not see her; and I had sense enough to -know and be thankful that she was no longer among them. I would -fain have bidden Maignan to begone too, for I read the -consternation in his face. But I could not muster strength or -voice for the purpose, and when I turned my head to see who held -me--ah me! it comes back to me still in dreams--it was -mademoiselle's hair that swept my forehead and her hand that -ministered to me; while tears she did not try to hide or wipe -away fell on my hot cheek. I could have pushed her away even -then, for she was slight and small; but the pains came upon me, -and with a sob choking my voice I lost all knowledge. - -I am told that I lay for more than a month between life and -death, now burning with fever and now in the cold fit; and that -but for the tendance which never failed nor faltered, nor could -have been outdone had my malady been the least infectious in the -world. I must have died a hundred times, as hundreds round me -did die week by week in that year. From the first they took me -out of the house (where I think I should have perished quickly, -so impregnated was it with the plague poison) and laid me under a -screen of boughs in the forest, with a vast quantity of cloaks -and horse-cloths cunningly disposed to windward. Here I ran some -risk from cold and exposure and the fall of heavy dews; but, on -the other hand, had all the airs of heaven to clear away the -humours and expel the fever from my brain. - -Hence it was that when the first feeble beginnings of -consciousness awoke in me again, they and the light stole in on -me through green leaves, and overhanging boughs, and the -freshness and verdure of the spring woods. The sunshine which -reached my watery eyes was softened by its passage through great -trees, which grew and expanded as I gazed up into them, until -each became a verdant world, with all a world's diversity of -life. Grown tired of this, I had still long avenues of shade, -carpeted with flowers, to peer into; or a little wooded bottom ---where the ground fell away on one side--that blazed and burned -with redthorn. Ay, and hence it was that the first sounds I -heard, when the fever left me at last, and I knew morning from -evening, and man from woman, were the songs of birds calling to -their mates. - -Mademoiselle and Madame de Bruhl, with Fanchette and Simon Fleix, -lay all this time in such shelter as could be raised for them -where I lay; M. Francois and three stout fellows, whom Maignan -left to guard us living in a hut within hail. Maignan himself, -after seeing out a week of my illness, had perforce returned to -his master, and no news had since been received from him. Thanks -to the timely move into the woods, no other of the party fell -ill, and by the time I was able to stand and speak the ravages of -the disease had so greatly decreased that fear was at an end. - -I should waste words were I to try to describe how the peace and -quietude of the life we led in the forest during the time of my -recovery sank into my heart; which had known, save by my mother's -bedside, little of such joys. To awake in the morning to sweet -sounds and scents, to eat with reviving appetite and feel the -slow growth of strength, to lie all day in shade or sunshine as -it pleased me, and hear women's voices and tinkling laughter, to -have no thought of the world and no knowledge of it, so that we -might have been, for anything we saw, in another sphere--these -things might have sufficed for happiness without that which added -to each and every one of them a sweeter and deeper and more -lasting joy. Of which next. - -I had not begun to take notice long before I saw that M. Francois -and madame had come to an understanding; such an one, at least, -as permitted him to do all for her comfort and entertainment -without committing her to more than was becoming at such, a -season. Naturally this left mademoiselle much in my company; a -circumstance which would have ripened into passion the affection -I before entertained for her, had not gratitude and a nearer -observance of her merits already elevated my regard into the most -ardent worship that even the youngest lover ever felt for his -mistress. - -In proportion, however, as I and my love grew stronger, and -mademoiselle's presence grew more necessary to my happiness--so -that were she away but an hour I fell a-moping--she began to draw -off from me, and absenting herself more and more on long walks in -the woods, by-and-by reduced me to such a pitch, of misery as bid -fair to complete what the fever had left undone, - -If this had happened in the world I think it likely that I should -have suffered in silence. But here, under the greenwood, in -common enjoyment of God's air and earth, we seemed more nearly -equal. She was scarce better dressed, than a sutler's wife; -while recollections of her wealth and station, though they -assailed me nightly, lost much of their point in presence of her -youth and of that fair and patient gentleness which forest life -and the duties of a nurse had fostered. - -So it happened that one day, when she had been absent longer than -usual, I took my courage in my hand and went to meet her as far -as the stream which ran through the bottom by the redthorn. -Here, at a place where there were three stepping-stones, I waited -for her; first taking away the stepping-stones, that she might -have to pause, and, being at a loss, might be glad to see me. - -She came presently, tripping through an alley in the low wood, -with her eyes on the ground, and her whole carriage full of a -sweet pensiveness which it did me good to see. I turned my back -on the stream before she saw me, and made a pretence of being -taken up with something in another direction. Doubtless she -espied me soon, and before she came very near; but she made no -sign until she reached the brink, and found the stepping-stones -were gone. - -Then, whether she suspected me or not, she called out to me, not -once, but several times. For, partly to tantalise her, as lovers -will, and partly because it charmed me to hear her use my name, I -would not turn at once. - -When I did, and discovered her standing with one small foot -dallying with the water, I cried out with well-affected concern; -and in a great hurry ran towards her, paying no attention to her -chiding or the pettish haughtiness with which she spoke to me. - -'The stepping-stones are all on your side,' she said imperiously. - -'Who has moved them?' - -I looked about without answering, and at last pretended to find -them; while she stood watching me, tapping the ground with one -foot the while. Despite her impatience, the stone which was -nearest to her I took care to bring last--that she might not -cross without my assistance. But after all she stepped over so -lightly and quickly that the hand she placed in mine seemed -scarcely to rest there a second. Yet when she was over I managed -to retain it; nor did she resist, though her cheek, which had -been red before, turned crimson and her eyes fell, and bound to -me by the link of her little hand, she stood beside me with her -whole figure drooping. - -'Mademoiselle,' I said gravely, summoning all my resolution to my -aid, 'do you know of what that stream with its stepping-stones -reminds me?' - -She shook her head but did not answer. - -'Of the stream which has flowed between us from the day when I -first saw you at St. Jean,' said in a low voice. 'It has flowed -between us, and it still does--separating us.' - -'What stream?' she murmured, with her eyes cast down, and her -foot playing with the moss. 'You speak in riddles, sir.' - -'You understand this one only too well, mademoiselle, 'I -answered. 'Are you not young and gay and beautiful, while I am -old, or almost old, and dull and grave? You are rich and well- -thought-of at Court, and I a soldier of fortune, not too -successful. What did you think of me when you first saw me at -St. Jean? What when I came to Rosny? That, mademoiselle,' I -continued with fervour, 'is the stream which flows between us and -separates us; and I know of but one stepping-stone that can -bridge it.' - -She looked aside, toying with a piece of thorn-blossom she had -picked. It was not redder than her cheeks. - -'That one stepping-stone,' I said, after waiting vainly for any -word or sign from her, 'is Love. Many weeks ago, mademoiselle, -when I had little cause to like you, I loved you; I loved you -whether I would or not, and without thought or hope of return. I -should have been mad had I spoken to you then. Mad, and worse -than mad. But now, now that I owe you my life, now that I have -drunk from your hand in fever, and, awaking early and late, have -found you by my pillow--now that, seeing you come in and out in -the midst of fear and hardship, I have learned to regard you as a -woman kind and gentle as my mother--now that I love you, so that -to be with you is joy, and away from you grief, is it presumption -in me now, mademoiselle, to think that that stream may be -bridged?' - -I stopped, out of breath, and saw that she was trembling. But -she spoke presently. 'You said one stepping-stone?' she -murmured. - -'Yes,' I answered hoarsely, trying in vain to look at her face, -which she kept averted from me. - -'There should be two,' she said, almost in a whisper. 'Your -love, sir, and--and mine. You have said much of the one, and -nothing of the other. In that you are wrong, for I am proud -still. And I would not cross the stream you speak of for any -love of yours!' - -'Ah!' I cried in sharpest pain. - -'But,' she continued, looking up at me on a sudden with eyes that -told me all, 'because I love you I am willing to cross it--to -cross it once for ever, and to live beyond it all my life--if I -may live my life with you.' - -I fell on my knee and kissed her hand again and again in a -rapture of joy and gratitude. By-and-by she pulled it from me. -'If you will, sir,' she said, 'you may kiss my lips. If you do -not, no man ever will.' - -After that, as may be guessed, we walked every day in the forest, -making longer and longer excursions as my strength came back to -me, and the nearer parts grew familiar. From early dawn, when I -brought my love a posy of flowers, to late evening, when -Fanchette hurried her from me, our days were passed in a long -round of delight; being filled full of all beautiful things-- -love, and sunshine, and rippling streams, and green banks, on -which we sat together under scented limes, telling one another -all we had ever thought, and especially all we had ever thought -of one another. Sometimes--when the light was low in the -evening--we spoke of my mother; and once--but that was in the -sunshine, when the bees were humming and my blood had begun to -run strongly in my veins--I spoke of my great and distant -kinsman, Rohan. But mademoiselle would hear nothing of him, -murmuring again and again in my ear, 'I have crossed, my love, I -have crossed.' - -Truly the sands of that hour-glass were of gold. But in time -they ran out. First M. Francois, spurred by the restlessness of -youth, and convinced that madame would for a while yield no -further, left us, and went back to the world. Then news came of -great events that could not fail to move us. The King of France -and the King of Navarre had met at Tours, and embracing in the -sight of an immense multitude, had repulsed the League with -slaughter in the suburb of St. Symphorien. Fast on this followed -the tidings of their march northwards with an overwhelming army -of fifty-thousand men of both religions, bent, rumour had it, on -the signal punishment of Paris. - -I grew--shame that I should say it--to think more and more of -these things; until mademoiselle, reading the signs, told me one -day that we must go. 'Though never again,' she added with a -sigh, 'shall we be so happy.' - -'Then why go?' I asked foolishly. - -'Because you are a man,' she answered with a wise smile, 'as I -would have you be, and you need something besides love. To- -morrow we will go.' - -'Whither?' I said in amazement. - -'To the camp before Paris,' she answered. 'We will go back in -the light of day--seeing that we have done nothing of which to -be ashamed--and throw ourselves on the justice of the King of -Navarre. You shall place me with Madame Catherine, who will not -refuse to protect me; and so, sweet, you will have only yourself -to think of. Come, sir,' she continued, laying her little hand -in mine, and looking into my eyes, 'you are not afraid?' - -'I am more afraid than ever I used to be,' I said trembling. - -'So I would have it,' she whispered, hiding her face on my -shoulder. 'Nevertheless we will go.' - -And go we did. The audacity of such a return in the face of -Turenne, who was doubtless in the King of Navarre's suite, almost -took my breath away; nevertheless, I saw that it possessed one -advantage which no other course promised--that, I mean, of -setting us right in the eyes of the world, and enabling me to -meet in a straightforward manner such as maligned us. After some -consideration I gave my assent, merely conditioning that until we -reached the Court we should ride masked, and shun as far as -possible encounters by the road. - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - -A TAVERN BRAWL. - -On the following day, accordingly, we started. But the news of -the two kings' successes, and particularly the certainty which -these had bred in many minds that nothing short of a miracle -could save Paris, had moved so many gentlemen to take the road -that we found the inns crowded beyond example, and were -frequently forced into meetings which made the task of concealing -our identity more difficult and hazardous than I had expected. -Sometimes shelter was not to be obtained on any terms, and then -we had to lie in the fields or in any convenient shed. Moreover, -the passage of the army had swept the country so bare both of -food and forage, that these commanded astonishing prices; and a -long day's ride more than once brought us to our destination -without securing for us the ample meal we had earned, and -required. - -Under these circumstances, it was with joy little short of -transport that I recognised the marvellous change which had come -over my mistress. Bearing all without a murmur, or a frown, or -so much as one complaining word, she acted on numberless -occasions so as to convince me that she spoke truly--albeit I -scarcely dared to believe it--when she said that she had but one -trouble in the world, and that was the prospect of our coming -separation. - -For my part, and despite some gloomy moments, when fear of the -future overcame me, I rode in Paradise riding by my mistress. It -was her presence which glorified alike the first freshness of the -morning, when we started with all the day before us, and the -coolness of the late evening, when we rode hand-in-hand. Nor -could I believe without an effort that I was the same Gaston de -Marsac who she had once spurned and disdained. God knows I was -thankful for her love. A thousand times, thinking of my grey -hairs, I asked her if she did not repent; and a thousand times -she answered No, with so much happiness in her eyes that I was -fain to thank God again and believe her. - -Notwithstanding the inconvenience of the practice, we made it a -rule to wear our masks whenever we appeared in public; and this -rule me kept more strictly as we approached Paris. It exposed us -to some comment and more curiosity, but led to no serious trouble -until we reached Etampes, twelve leagues from the capital; where -we found the principal inn so noisy and crowded, and so much -disturbed by the constant coming and going of couriers, that it -required no experience to predicate the neighbourhood of the -army. The great courtyard seemed to be choked with a confused -mass of men and horses, through which we made our way with -difficulty. The windows of the house were all open, and offered -us a view of tables surrounded by men eating and drinking -hastily, as the manner of travellers is. The gateway and the -steps of the house were lined with troopers and servants and -sturdy rogues; who scanned all who passed in or out, and not -unfrequently followed them with ribald jests and nicknames. -Songs and oaths, brawling and laughter, with the neighing of -horses and the huzzas of the beggars, who shouted whenever a -fresh party arrived, rose above all, and increased the reluctance -with which I assisted madame and mademoiselle to dismount. - -Simon was no match for such an occasion as this; but the stalwart -aspect of the three men whom Maignan had left with me commanded -respect, and attended by two of these I made a way for the -ladies--not without some opposition and a few oaths--to enter the -house. The landlord, whom we found crushed into a corner inside, -and entirely overborne by the crowd which had invaded his -dwelling, assured me that he had not the smallest garret he could -place at my disposal; but I presently succeeded in finding a -small room at the top, which I purchased from the four men who -had taken possession of it. As it was impossible to get anything -to eat there, I left a man on guard, and myself descended with -madame and mademoiselle to the eating-room, a large chamber set -with long boards, and filled with a rough and noisy crew. Under -a running fire of observations we entered, and found with -difficulty three seats in an inner corner of the room. - -I ran my eye over the company, and noticed among them, besides a -dozen travelling parties like our own, specimens of all those -classes which are to be found in the rear of an army. There were -some officers and more horse-dealers; half a dozen forage-agents -and a few priests; with a large sprinkling of adventurers, -braves, and led-captains, and here and there two or three whose -dress and the deference paid to them by their neighbours seemed -to indicate a higher rank. Conspicuous among these last were a -party of four who occupied a small table by the door. An attempt -had been made to secure some degree of privacy for them by -interposing a settle between them and the room; and their -attendants, who seemed to be numerous, did what they could to add -to this by filling the gap with their persons. One of the four, -a man of handsome dress and bearing, who sat in the place of -honour, was masked, as we were. The gentleman at his right hand -I could not see. The others, whom I could see, were strangers to -me. - -Some time elapsed before our people succeeded in procuring us any -food, and during the interval we were exposed to an amount of -comment on the part of those round us which I found very little -to my liking. There were not half a dozen women present, and -this and our masks rendered my companions unpleasantly -conspicuous. Aware, however, of the importance of avoiding an -altercation which might possibly detain us, and would be certain -to add to our notoriety, I remained quiet; and presently the -entrance of a tall, dark-complexioned man, who carried himself -with a peculiar swagger, and seemed to be famous for something or -other, diverted the attention of the company from us. - -The new-comer was somewhat of Maignan's figure. He wore a back -and breast over a green doublet, and had an orange feather in his -cap and an orange-lined cloak on his shoulder. On entering he -stood a moment in the doorway, letting his bold black eyes rove -round the room, the while he talked in a loud braggart fashion to -his companions. There was a lack of breeding in the man's air, -and something offensive in his look; which I noticed produced -wherever it rested a momentary silence and constraint. When he -moved farther into the room I saw that he wore a very long sword, -the point of which trailed a foot behind him. - -He chose out for his first attentions the party of four whom I -have mentioned; going up to them and accosting them with a -ruffling air, directed especially to the gentleman in the mask. -The latter lifted his head haughtily on finding himself addressed -by a stranger, but did not offer to answer. Someone else did, -however, for a sudden bellow like that of an enraged bull -proceeded from behind the settle. The words were lost in noise, -the unseen speaker's anger seeming so overpowering that he could -not articulate; but the tone and voice, which were in some way -familiar to me, proved enough for the bully, who, covering his -retreat with a profound bow, backed out rapidly, muttering what -was doubtless an apology. Cocking his hat more fiercely to make -up for this repulse, he next proceeded to patrol the room, -scowling from side to side as he went, with the evident intention -of picking a quarrel with someone less formidable. - -By ill-chance his eye lit, as he turned, on our masks. He said -something to his companions; and encouraged, no doubt, by the -position of our seats at the board, which led him to think us -people of small consequence, he came to a stop opposite us. - -'What! more dukes here?' he cried scoffingly. 'Hallo, you -sir!' he continued to me, 'will you not unmask and drink a glass -with me?' - -I thanked him civilly, but declined. - -His insolent eyes were busy, while I spoke, with madame's fair -hair and handsome figure, which her mask failed to hide. -'Perhaps the ladies will have better taste, sir,' he said rudely. -'Will they not honour us with a sight of their pretty faces?' - -Knowing the importance of keeping my temper I put constraint on -myself, and answered, still with civility, that they were greatly -fatigued and were about to retire. - -'Zounds!' he cried, 'that is not to be borne. If we are to lose -them so soon, the more reason we should enjoy their BEAUX YEUX -while we can. A short life and a merry one, sir. This is not a -nunnery, nor, I dare swear, are your fair friends nuns.' - -Though I longed to chastise him for this insult, I feigned -deafness, and went on with my meal as if I had not heard him; and -the table being between us prevented him going beyond words. -After he had uttered one or two coarse jests of a similar -character, which cost us less as we were masked, and our emotions -could only be guessed, the crowd about us, seeing I took the -thing quietly, began to applaud him; but more as it seemed to me -out of fear than love. In this opinion I was presently confirmed -on hearing from Simon who whispered the information in my ear as -he handed a dish--that the fellow was an Italian captain in the -king's pay, famous for his skill with the sword and the many -duels in which he had displayed it. - -Mademoiselle, though she did not know this, bore with his -insolence with a patience which astonished me; while madame -appeared unconscious of it. Nevertheless, I was glad when he -retired and left us in peace. I seized the moment of his absence -to escort the ladies through the room and upstairs to their -apartment, the door of which I saw locked and secured. That done -I breathed more freely; and feeling thankful that I had been able -to keep my temper, took the episode to be at an end. - -But in this I was mistaken, as I found when I returned to the -room in which we had supped, my intention being to go through it -to the stables. I had not taken two paces across the floor -before I found my road blocked by the Italian, and read alike in -his eyes and in the faces of the company--of whom many hastened -to climb the tables to see what passed--that the meeting was -premeditated. The man's face was flushed with wine; proud of his -many victories, he eyed me with a boastful contempt my patience -had perhaps given him the right to feel. - -'Ha! well met, sir,' he said, sweeping the floor with his cap in -an exaggeration of respect, 'now, perhaps, your high-mightiness -will condescend to unmask? The table is no longer between us, -nor are your fair friends here to protect their CHER AMI!' - -'If I still refuse, sir,' I said civilly, wavering between anger -and prudence, and hoping still to avoid a quarrel which might -endanger us all, 'be good enough to attribute it to private -motives, and to no desire to disoblige you.' - -'No, I do not think you wish to disoblige me,' he answered, -laughing scornfully--and a dozen voices echoed the gibe. 'But -for your private motives, the devil take them! Is that plain -enough, sir?' - -'It is plain enough to show me that you are an ill-bred man!' I -answered, choler getting the better of me. 'Let me pass, sir.' - -'Unmask!' he retorted, moving so as still to detain me, 'or -shall I call in the grooms to perform the office for you?' - -Seeing at last that all my attempts to evade the man only fed his -vanity, and encouraged him to further excesses, and that the -motley crowd, who filled the room and already formed a circle -round us, had made up their minds to see sport, I would no longer -balk them; I could no longer do it, indeed, with honour. I -looked round, therefore, for someone whom I might enlist as my -second, but I saw no one with whom I had the least acquaintance. -The room was lined from table to ceiling with mocking faces and -scornful eyes all turned to me. - -My opponent saw the look, and misread it; being much accustomed, -I imagine, to a one-sided battle. He laughed contemptuously. -'No, my friend, there is no way out of it,' he said. 'Let me see -your pretty face, or fight.' - -'So be it,' I said quietly. 'If I have no other choice, I will -fight.' - -'In your mask?' he cried incredulously. - -'Yes,' I said sternly, feeling every nerve tingle with long- -suppressed rage. 'I will fight as I am. Off with your back and -breast, if you are a man. And I will so deal with you that if -you see to-morrow's sun you shall need a mask for the rest of -your days!' - -'Ho! ho!' he answered, scowling at me in surprise, 'you sing in -a different key now. But I will put a term to it. There is -space enough between these tables, if you can use your weapon; -and much more than you will need to-morrow.' - -'To-morrow will show,' I retorted. - -Without more ado he unfastened the buckles of his breast-piece, -and relieving himself of it, stepped back a pace. Those of the -bystanders who occupied the part of the room he indicated--a -space bounded by four tables, and not unfit for the purpose, -though somewhat confined--hastened to get out of it, and seize -instead upon neighbouring posts of 'vantage. The man's -reputation was such, and his fame so great, that on all sides I -heard naught but wagers offered against me at odds; but this -circumstance, which might have flurried a younger man and numbed -his arm, served only to set me on making the most of such -openings as the fellow's presumption and certainty of success -would be sure to afford. - -The news of the challenge running through the house had brought -together by this time so many people as to fill the room from end -to end, and even to obscure the light, which was beginning to -wane. At the last moment, when we were on the point of engaging, -a slight commotion marked the admission to the front of three or -four persons, whose consequence or attendants gained them this -advantage. I believed them to be the party of four I have -mentioned, but at the time I could not be certain. - -In the few seconds of waiting while this went forward I examined -our relative positions with the fullest intention of killing the -man--whose glittering eyes and fierce smile filled me with a -loathing which was very nearly hatred--if I could. The line of -windows lay to my right and his left. The evening light fell -across us, whitening the row of faces on my left, but leaving -those on my right in shadow. It occurred to me on the instant -that my mask was actually an advantage, seeing that it protected -my sight from the side-light, and enabled me to watch his eyes -and point with more concentration. - -'You will be the twenty-third man I have killed!' he said -boastfully, as we crossed swords and stood an instant on guard. - -'Take care!' I answered. 'You have twenty-three against you!' - -A swift lunge was his only answer. I parried it, and thrust, and -we fell to work. We had not exchanged half a dozen blows, -however, before I saw that I should need all the advantage which -my mask and greater caution gave me. I had met my match, and it -might be something more; but that for a time it was impossible to -tell. He had the longer weapon, and I the longer reach. He -preferred the point, after the new Italian fashion, and I the -blade. He was somewhat flushed with wine, while my arm had -scarcely recovered the strength of which illness had deprived me. - -On the other hand, excited at the first by the cries of his -backers, he played rather wildly; while I held myself prepared, -and keeping up a strong guard, waited cautiously for any opening -or mistake on his part. - -The crowd round us, which had hailed our first passes with noisy -cries of derision and triumph, fell silent after a while, -surprised and taken aback by their champion's failure to spit me -at the first onslaught. My reluctance to engage had led them to -predict a short fight and an easy victory. - -Convinced of the contrary, they began to watch each stroke with -bated breath; or now and again, muttering the name of Jarnac, -broke into brief exclamations as a blow more savage than usual -drew sparks from our blades, and made the rafters ring with the -harsh grinding of steel on steel. - -The surprise of the crowd, however, was a small thing compared -with that of my adversary. Impatience, disgust, rage and doubt -chased one another in turn across his flushed features. -Apprised that he had to do with a swordsman, he put forth all -his power. With spite in his eyes he laboured blow on blow, he -tried one form of attack after another, he found me equal, if -barely equal, to all. And then at last there came a change. The -perspiration gathered on his brow, the silence disconcerted him; -he felt his strength failing under the strain, and suddenly, I -think, the possibility of defeat and death, unthought of before, -burst upon him. I heard him groan, and for a moment he fenced -wildly. Then he again recovered himself. But now I read terror -in his eyes, and knew that the moment of retribution was at hand. -With his back to the table, and my point threatening his breast, -he knew at last what those others had felt! - -He would fain have stopped to breathe, but I would not let him -though my blows also were growing feeble, and my guard weaker; -for I knew that if I gave him time to recover himself he would -have recourse to other tricks, and might out-manoeuvre me in the -end. As it was, my black unchanging mask, which always -confronted him, which hid all emotions and veiled even fatigue, -had grown to be full of terror to him--full of blank, passionless -menace. He could not tell how I fared, or what I thought, or how -my strength stood. Superstitious dread was on him, and -threatened, to overpower him. Ignorant who I was or whence I -came, he feared and doubted, grappling with monstrous suspicions, -which the fading light encouraged. His face broke out in -blotches, his breath came and went in gasps, his eyes began to -protrude. Once or twice they quitted mine for a part of a second -to steal a despairing glance at the rows of onlookers that ran to -right and left of us. But he read no pity there. - -At last the end came--more suddenly than I had looked for it, but -I think he was unnerved. His hand lost its grip of the hilt, and -a parry which I dealt a little more briskly than usual sent the -weapon flying among the crowd, as much to my astonishment as to -that of the spectators. A volley of oaths and exclamations -hailed the event; and for a moment I stood at gaze, eyeing him -watchfully. He shrank back; then he made for a moment as if he -would fling himself upon me dagger in hand. But seeing my point -steady, he recoiled a second time, his face distorted with rage -and fear. - -'Go!' I said sternly. 'Begone! Follow your sword! But spare -the next man you conquer.' - -He stared at me, fingering his dagger as if he did not -understand, or as if in the bitterness of his shame at being so -defeated even life were unwelcome. I was about to repeat my -words when a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. - -'Fool!' a harsh growling voice muttered in my ear. 'Do you want -him to serve you as Achon served Matas? This is the way to deal -with him.' - -And before I knew who spoke or what to expect a man vaulted over -the table beside me. Seizing the Italian by the neck and waist, -he flung him bodily--without paying the least regard to his -dagger--into the crowd. 'There!' the new-comer cried, -stretching his arms as if the effort had relieved him, 'so much -for him! And do you breathe yourself. Breathe yourself, my -friend,' he continued with a vain-glorious air of generosity. -'When you are rested and ready, you and I will have a bout. Mon -dieu! what a thing it is to see a man! And by my faith you are -a man!' - -'But, sir,' I said, staring at him in the utmost bewilderment, -'we have no quarrel.' - -'Quarrel?' he cried in his loud, ringing voice. 'Heaven forbid! -Why should we? I love a man, however, and when I see one I say -to him, "I am Crillon! Fight me!" But I see you are not yet -rested. Patience! There is no hurry. Berthon de Crillon is -proud to wait your convenience. In the meantime, gentlemen,' he -continued, turning with a grand air to the spectators, who viewed -this sudden BOULEVERSEMENT with unbounded surprise, 'let us do -what we can. Take the word from me, and cry all, "VIVE LE ROI, -ET VIVE L'INCONNU!"' - -Like people awaking from a dream--so great was their astonishment -the company complied and with the utmost heartiness. When the -shout died away, someone cried in turn, 'Vive Crillon!' and this -was honoured with a fervour which brought the tears to the eyes -of that remarkable man, in whom bombast was so strangely combined -with the firmest and most reckless courage. He bowed again and -again, turning himself about in the small space between the -tables, while his face shone with pleasure and enthusiasm. -Meanwhile I viewed him with perplexity. I comprehended that it -was his voice I had heard behind the settle; but I had neither -the desire to fight him nor so great a reserve of strength after -my illness as to be able to enter on a fresh contest with -equanimity. When he turned to me, therefore, and again asked, -'Well, sir, are you ready?' I could think of no better answer -than that I had already made to him, 'But, sir, I have no quarrel -with you.' - -'Tut, tut!' he answered querulously, 'if that is all, let us -engage.' - -'That is not all, however,' I said, resolutely putting up my -sword. 'I have not only no quarrel with M. de Crillon, but I -received at his hands when I last saw him a considerable -service.' - -'Then now is the time to return it,' he answered. briskly, and -as if that settled the matter. - -I could not refrain from laughing. 'Nay, but I have still an -excuse,' I said. 'I am barely recovered from an illness, and am -weak. Even so, I should be loth to decline a combat with some; -but a better man than I may give the wall to M. de Crillon and -suffer no disgrace.' - -'Oh, if you put it that way--enough said,' he answered in a tone -of disappointment. 'And, to be sure, the light is almost gone. -That is a comfort. But you will not refuse to drink a cup of -wine with me? Your voice I remember, though I cannot say who you -are or what service I did you. For the future, however, count on -me. I love a man who is brave as well as modest, and know no -better friend than a stout swordsman.' - -I was answering him in fitting terms--while the fickle crowd, -which a few minutes earlier had been ready to tear me, viewed us -from a distance with respectful homage--when the masked gentleman -who had before been in his company drew near and saluted me with -much stateliness. - -'I congratulate you, sir,' he said, in the easy tone of a great -man condescending. 'You use the sword as few use it, and fight -with your head as well as your hands. Should you need a friend -or employment, you will honour me by remembering that you are -known to the Vicomte de Turenne.' - -I bowed low to hide the start which the mention of his name -caused me. For had I tried, ay, and possessed to aid me all the -wit of M. de Brantome, I could have imagined nothing more -fantastic than this meeting; or more entertaining than that I, -masked, should talk with the Vicomte de Turenne masked, and hear -in place of reproaches and threats of vengeance a civil offer of -protection. Scarcely knowing whether I should laugh or tremble, -or which should occupy me more, the diverting thing that had -happened or the peril we had barely escaped, I made shift to -answer him, craving his indulgence if I still preserved my -incognito. Even while I spoke a fresh fear assailed me: lest M. -de Crillon, recognising my voice or figure, should cry my name on -the spot, and explode in a moment the mine on which we stood. - -This rendered me extremely impatient to be gone. But M. le -Vicomte had still something to say, and I could not withdraw -myself without rudeness. - -'You are travelling north like everyone else?' he said, gazing -at me curiously. 'May I ask whether you are for Meudon, where -the King of Navarre lies, or for the Court at St. Cloud?' - -I muttered, moving restlessly under his keen eyes, that I was for -Meudon. - -'Then, if you care to travel with a larger company,' he rejoined, -bowing with negligent courtesy, 'pray command me. I am for -Meudon also, and shall leave here three hours before noon.' - -Fortunately he took my assent to his gracious invitation for -granted, and turned away before I had well begun to thank him. -From Crillon I found it more difficult to escape. He appeared to -have conceived a great fancy for me, and felt also, I imagine, -some curiosity as to my identity. But I did even this at last, -and, evading the obsequious offers which were made me on all -sides, escaped to the stables, where I sought out the Cid's -stall, and lying down in the straw beside him, began to review -the past, and plan the future. Under cover of the darkness sleep -soon came to me; my last waking thoughts being divided between -thankfulness for my escape and a steady purpose to reach Meudon -before the Vicomte, so that I might make good my tale in his -absence. For that seemed to be my only chance of evading the -dangers I had chosen to encounter. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - -AT MEUDON. - -Making so early a start from Etampes that the inn, which had -continued in an uproar till long after midnight, lay sunk in -sleep when we rode out of the yard, we reached Meudon about noon -next day. I should be tedious were I to detail what thoughts my -mistress and I had during that day's journey--the last, it might -be, which we should take together; or what assurances we gave one -another, or how often we, repented the impatience which had -impelled us to put all to the touch. Madame, with kindly -forethought, detached herself from us, and rode the greater part -of the distance with Fanchette; but the opportunities she gave us -went for little; for, to be plain, the separation we dreaded -seemed to overshadow us already. We uttered few words, through -those few were to the purpose, but riding hand-in-hand, with full -hearts, and eyes which seldom quitted one another, looked forward -to Meudon and its perils with such gloomy forebodings as our love -and my precarious position suggested. - -Long before we reached the town, or could see more of it than the -Chateau, over which the Lilies of France and the broad white -banner of the Bourbons floated in company, we found ourselves -swept into the whirlpool which surrounds an army. Crowds stood -at all the cross-roads, wagons and sumpter-mules encumbered the -bridges; each moment a horseman passed us at a gallop, or a troop -of disorderly rogues, soldiers only in name, reeled, shouting and -singing, along the road. Here and there, for a warning to the -latter sort, a man, dangled on a rude gallows; under which -sportsmen returning from the chase and ladies who had been for an -airing rode laughing on their way. - -Amid the multitude entering the town we passed unnoticed. A -little way within the walls we halted to inquire where the -Princess of Navarre had her lodging. Hearing that she occupied a -house in the town, while her brother had his quarters in the -Chateau, and the King of France at St. Cloud, I stayed my party -in a by-road, a hundred paces farther on, and, springing from the -Cid, went to my mistress's knee. - -'Mademoiselle,' I said formally, and so loudly that all my men -might hear, 'the time is come. I dare not go farther with you. -I beg you, therefore, to bear me witness that as I took you so I -have brought you back, and both with your good-will. I beg that -you will give me this quittance, for it may serve me.' - -She bowed her head and laid her ungloved hand on mine, which I -had placed on, the pommel of her saddle. 'Sir,' she answered in -a broken voice, 'I will not give you this quittance, nor any -quittance from me while I live.' With that she took off her mask -before them all, and I saw the tears running down her white face. -'May God protect you, M. de Marsac,' she continued, stooping -until her face almost touched mine, 'and bring you to the thing -you desire. If not, sir, and you pay too dearly for what you -have done for me, I will live a maiden all my days. And, if I do -not, these men may shame me!' - -My heart was too full for words, but I took the glove she held -out to me, and kissed her hand with my knee bent. Then I waved-- -for I could not speak--to madame to proceed; and with Simon Fleix -and Maignan's men to guard them they went on their way. -Mademoiselle's white face looked back to me until a bend in the -road hid them, and I saw them no more. - -I turned when all were gone, and going heavily to where my Sard -stood with his head drooping, I climbed to the saddle, and rode -at a foot-pace towards the Chateau. The way was short and easy, -for the next turning showed me the open gateway and a crowd about -it. A vast number of people were entering and leaving, while -others rested in the shade of the wall, and a dozen grooms led -horses up and down. The sunshine fell hotly on the road and the -courtyard, and flashed back by the cuirasses of the men on guard, -seized the eye and dazzled it with gleams of infinite brightness. -I was advancing alone, gazing at all this with a species of dull -indifference which masked for the moment the suspense I felt at -heart, when a man, coming on foot along the street, crossed -quickly to me and looked me in the face. - -I returned his look, and seeing he was a stranger to me, was for -passing on without pausing. But he wheeled beside me and uttered -my name in a low voice. - -I checked the Cid and looked down at him. 'Yes,' I said -mechanically, 'I am M. de Marsac. But I do not know you.' - -'Nevertheless I have been watching for you for three days,' he -replied. 'M. de Rosny received your message. This is for you.' - -He handed me a scrap of paper. 'From whom?' I asked. - -'Maignan,' he answered briefly. And with that, and a stealthy -look round, he left me, and went the way he had been going -before. - -I tore open the note, and knowing that Maignan could not write, -was not surprised to find that it lacked any signature. The -brevity of its contents vied with the curtness of its bearer. -'In Heaven's name go back and wait,' it ran. 'Your enemy is -here, and those who wish you well are powerless.' - -A warning so explicit, and delivered under such circumstances, -might have been expected to make me pause even then. But I read -the message with the same dull indifference, the same dogged -resolve with which the sight of the crowded gateway before me had -inspired me. I had not come so far and baffled Turenne by an -hour to fail in my purpose at the last; nor given such pledges to -another to prove false to myself. Moreover, the distant rattle -of musketry, which went to show that a skirmish was taking place -on the farther side of the Castle, seemed an invitation to me to -proceed; for now, if ever, my sword might earn protection and a -pardon. Only in regard to M. de Rosny, from whom I had no doubt -that the message came, I resolved to act with prudence; neither -making any appeal to him in public nor mentioning his name to -others in private. - -The Cid had borne me by this time into the middle of the throng -about the gateway, who, wondering to see a stranger of my -appearance arrive without attendants, eyed me with a mixture of -civility and forwardness. I recognised more than one man whom I -had seen about the Court at St. Jean d'Angely six months before; -but so great is the disguising power of handsome clothes and -equipments that none of these knew me. I beckoned to the -nearest, and asked him if the King of Navarre was in the Chateau. - -'He has gone to see the King of France at St. Cloud,' the man -answered, with something of wonder that anyone should be ignorant -of so important a fact. 'He is expected here in an hour.' - -I thanked him, and calculating that I should still have time and -to spare before the arrival of M. de Turenne, I dismounted, and -taking the rein over my arm, began to walk up and down in the -shade of the wall. Meanwhile the loiterers increased in numbers -as the minutes passed. Men of better standing rode up, and, -leaving their horses in charge of their lackeys, went into the -Chateau. Officers in shining corslets, or with boots and -scabbards dulled with dust, arrived and clattered in through the -gates. A messenger galloped up with letters, and was instantly -surrounded by a curious throng of questioners; who left him only -to gather about the next comers, a knot of townsfolk, whose -downcast visages and glances of apprehension seemed to betoken no -pleasant or easy mission. - -Watching many of these enter and disappear, while only the -humbler sort remained to swell the crowd at the gate, I began to -experience the discomfort and impatience which are the lot of the -man who finds himself placed in a false position. I foresaw with -clearness the injury I was about to do my cause by presenting -myself to the king among the common herd; and yet I had no choice -save to do this, for I dared not run the risk of entering, lest I -should be required to give my name, and fail to see the King of -Navarre at all. - -As it was I came very near to being foiled in this way; for I -presently recognised, and was recognised in turn, by a gentleman -who rode up to the gates and, throwing his reins to a groom, -dismounted with an air of immense gravity. This was M. Forget, -the king's secretary, and the person to whom I had on a former -occasion presented a petition. He looked at me with eyes of -profound astonishment, and saluting me stiffly from a distance, -seemed in two minds whether he should pass in or speak to me. On -second thoughts, however, he came towards me, and again saluted -me with a peculiarly dry and austere aspect. - -'I believe, sir, I am speaking to M. de Marsac?' he said in a -low voice, but not impolitely. - -I replied in the affirmative. - -'And that, I conclude, is your horse?' he continued, raising his -cane, and pointing to the Cid, which I had fastened to a hook in -the wall. - -I replied again in the affirmative. - -'Then take a word of advice,' he answered, screwing up his -features, and speaking in a dry sort of way. 'Get upon its back -without an instant's delay, and put as many leagues between -yourself and Meudon as horse and man may.' - -'I am obliged to you,' I said, though I was greatly startled by -his words. 'And what if I do not take your advice?' - -He shrugged his shoulders. 'In that case look to yourself!' he -retorted. 'But you will look in vain!' - -He turned on his heel, as he spoke, and in a moment was gone. I -watched him enter the Chateau, and in the uncertainty which -possessed me whether he was not gone--after salving his -conscience by giving me warning--to order my instant arrest, I -felt, and I doubt not I looked, as ill at ease for the time being -as the group of trembling townsfolk who stood near me. -Reflecting that he should know his master's mind, I recalled with -depressing clearness the repeated warnings the King of Navarre -had given me that I must not look to him for reward or -protection. I bethought me that I was here against his express -orders: presuming on those very services which he had given me -notice he should repudiate. I remembered that Rosny had always -been in the same tale. And in fine I began to see that -mademoiselle and I had together decided on a step which I should -never have presumed to take on my own motion. - -I had barely arrived at this conclusion when the trampling of -hoofs and a sudden closing in of the crowd round the gate -announced the King of Navarre's approach. With a sick heart I -drew nearer, feeling that the crisis was at hand; and in a moment -he came in sight, riding beside an elderly man, plainly dressed -and mounted, with whom he was carrying on an earnest -conversation. A train of nobles and gentlemen, whose martial air -and equipments made up for the absence of the gewgaws and -glitter, to which my eyes had become accustomed at Blois, -followed close on his heels. Henry himself wore a suit of white -velvet, frayed in places and soiled by his armour; but his quick -eye and eager, almost fierce, countenance could not fail to win -and keep the attention of the least observant. He kept glancing -from side to side as he came on; and that with so cheerful an air -and a carriage so full at once of dignity and good-humour that no -one could look on him and fail to see that here was a leader and -a prince of men, temperate in victory and unsurpassed in defeat. - -The crowd raising a cry of 'VIVE NAVARRE!' as he drew near, he -bowed, with a sparkle in his eye. But when a few by the gate -cried 'VIVENT LES ROIS!' he held up his hand for silence, and -said in a loud, clear voice, 'Not that, my friends. There is but -one king in France. Let us say instead, "Vive le Roi!"' - -The spokesman of the little group of townsfolk, who, I learned, -were from Arcueil, and had come to complain of the excessive -number of troops quartered upon them, took advantage of the pause -to approach him. Henry received the old man with a kindly look, -and bent from his saddle to hear what he had to say. While they -were talking I pressed forward, the emotion I felt on my own -account heightened by my recognition of the man who rode by the -King of Navarre--who was no other than M. de la Noue. No -Huguenot worthy of the name could look on the veteran who had -done and suffered more for the cause than any living man without -catching something of his stern enthusiasm; and the sight, while -it shamed me, who a moment before had been inclined to prefer my -safety to the assistance I owed my country, gave me courage to -step to the king's rein, so that I heard his last words to the -men of Arcueil. - -'Patience, my friends,' he said kindly. 'The burden is heavy, -but the journey is a short one. The Seine is ours; the circle is -complete. In a week Paris must surrender. The king, my cousin, -will enter, and you will be rid of us. For France's sake one -week, my friends.' - -The men fell back with low obeisances, charmed by his good- -nature, and Henry, looking up, saw me before him. In the instant -his jaw fell. His brow, suddenly contracting above eyes, which -flashed with surprise and displeasure, altered in a moment the -whole aspect of his face; which grew dark and stern as night. -His first impulse was to pass by me; but seeing that I held my -ground, he hesitated, so completely chagrined by my appearance -that he did not know how to act, or in what way to deal with me. -I seized the occasion, and bending my knee with as much respect -as I had ever used to the King of France, begged to bring myself -to his notice, and to crave his protection and favour. - -'This is no time to trouble me, sir,' he retorted, eyeing me with -an angry side-glance. 'I do not know you. You are unknown to -me, sir. You must go to M. de Rosny.' - -'It would be useless sire,' I answered, in desperate persistence. - -'Then I can do nothing for you,' he rejoined peevishly. 'Stand -on one side, sir.' - -But I was desperate. I knew that I had risked all on the event, -and must establish my footing before M. de Turenne's return, or -run the risk of certain recognition and vengeance. I cried out, -caring nothing who heard, that I was M. de Marsac, that I had -come back to meet whatever my enemies could allege against me. - -'VENTRE SAINT GRIS!' Henry exclaimed, starting in his saddle -with well-feigned surprise. 'Are you that man?' - -'I am, sire,' I answered. - -'Then you must be mad!' he retorted, appealing to those behind -him. 'Stark, staring mad to show your face here! 'VENTRE SAINT -GRIS! Are we to have all the ravishers and plunderers in the -country come to us?' - -'I am neither the one nor the other!' I answered, looking with -indignation from him to the gaping train behind him. - -'That you will have to settle with M. de Turenne!' he retorted, -frowning down at me with his whole face turned gloomy and fierce. -'I know you well, sir, now. Complaint has been made that you -abducted a lady from his Castle of Chize some time back.' - -'The lady, sire, is now in charge of the Princess of Navarre.' - -'She is?' he exclaimed, quite taken aback. - -'And if she has aught of complaint against me,' I continued with -pride,' I will submit to whatever punishment you order or M. de -Turenne demands. But if she has no complaint to make, and vows -that she accompanied me of her own free-will and accord, and has -suffered neither wrong nor displeasure at my hands, then, sire, I -claim that this is a private matter between myself and M. de -Turenne.' - -'Even so I think you will have your hands full,' he answered -grimly. At the same time he stopped by a gesture those who would -have cried out upon me, and looked at me himself with an altered -countenance. 'Do I understand that you assert that the lady went -of her own accord?' he asked. - -'She went and has returned, sire,' I answered. - -'Strange!' he ejaculated. 'Have you married her?' - -'No, sire,' I answered. 'I desire leave to do so.' - -'Mon dieu! she is M. de Turenne's ward,' he rejoined, almost -dumbfounded by my audacity. - -'I do not despair of obtaining his assent, sire,' I said -patiently. - -'SAINT GRIS! the man is mad!' he cried, wheeling his horse and -facing his train with a gesture of the utmost wonder. 'It is the -strangest story I ever heard.' - -'But somewhat more to the gentleman's credit than the lady's!' -one said with a smirk and a smile. - -'A lie!' I cried, springing forward on the instant with a -boldness which astonished myself. 'She is as pure as your -Highness's sister! I swear it. That man lies in his teeth, and -I will maintain it.' - -'Sir!' the King of Navarre cried, turning on me with the utmost -sternness, 'you forget yourself in my presence! Silence, and -beware another time how you let your tongue run on those above -you. You have enough trouble, let me tell you, on your hands -already.' - -'Yet the man lies!' I answered doggedly, remembering Crillon and -his ways. 'And if he will do me the honour of stepping aside -with me, I will convince him of it!' - -'VENTRE SAINT GRIS!' Henry replied, frowning, and dwelling on -each syllable of his favourite oath. 'Will you be silent, sir, -and let me think? Or must I order your instant arrest?' - -'Surely that at least, sire,' a suave voice interjected. And -with that a gentleman pressed forward from the rest, and gaining -a place, of 'vantage by the King's side, shot at me a look of -extreme malevolence. 'My lord of Turenne will expect no less at -your Highness's hands,' he continued warmly. 'I beg you will -give the order on the spot, and hold this person to answer for -his misdeeds. M. de Turenne returns to-day. He should be here -now. I say again, sire, he will expect no less than this.' - -The king, gazing at me with gloomy eyes, tugged at his -moustaches. Someone had motioned the common herd to stand back -out of hearing; at the same time the suite had moved up out of -curiosity and formed a half-circle; in the midst of which I stood -fronting the king, who had La Noue and the last speaker on either -hand. Perplexity and annoyance struggled for the mastery in his -face as he looked darkly down at me, his teeth showing through -his beard. Profoundly angered by my appearance, which he had -taken at first to be the prelude to disclosures which must detach -Turenne at a time when union was all-important, he had now ceased -to fear for himself; and perhaps saw something in the attitude I -adopted which appealed to his nature and sympathies. - -'If the girl is really back,' he said at last, 'M. d'Aremburg, I -do-not see any reason why I should interfere. At present, at any -rate.' - -'I think, sire, M. de Turenne will see reason,' the gentleman -answered drily. - -The king coloured. 'M. de Turenne,' he began, - -'Has made many sacrifices at your request, sire,' the other said -with meaning. 'And buried some wrongs, or fancied wrongs, in -connection with this very matter. This person has outraged him -in the grossest manner, and in M. le Vicomte's name I ask, nay I -press upon you, that he be instantly arrested, and held to answer -for it.' - -'I am ready to answer for it now!' I retorted, looking from face -to face for sympathy, and finding none save in M. de la Noue's, -who appeared to regard me with grave approbation. 'To the -Vicomte de Turenne, or the person he may appoint to represent -him.' - -'Enough!' Henry said, raising his hand and speaking in the tone -of authority he knew so well how to adopt. 'For you, M. -d'Aremburg, I thank you. Turenne is happy in his friend. But; -this gentleman came to me of his own free will and I do not think -it consistent with my honour to detain him without warning given. -I grant him an hour to remove himself from my neighbourhood. If -he be found after that time has elapsed,' he continued solemnly, -'his fate be on his own head. Gentlemen, we are late already. -Let us on.' - -I looked at him as he pronounced this sentence, and strove to -find words in which to make a final appeal to him. But no words -came; and when he bade me stand aside, I did so mechanically, -remaining with my head bared to the sunshine while the troop rode -by. Some looked back at me with curiosity, as at a man of whom -they had heard a tale, and some with a jeer on their lips; a few -with dark looks of menace. When they were all gone, and the -servants who followed them had disappeared also, and I was left -to the inquisitive glances of the rabble who stood gaping after -the sight, I turned and went to the Cid, and loosed the horse -with a feeling of bitter disappointment. - -The plan which mademoiselle had proposed and I had adopted in the -forest by St. Gaultier--when it seemed to us that our long -absence and the great events of which we heard must have changed -the world and opened a path for our return--had failed utterly. -Things were as they had been; the strong were still strong, and -friendship under bond to fear. Plainly we should have shewn -ourselves wiser had we taken the lowlier course, and, obeying the -warnings given us, waited the King of Navarre's pleasure or the -tardy recollection of Rosny. I had not then stood, as I now -stood, in instant jeopardy, nor felt the keen pangs of a -separation which bade fair to be lasting. She was safe, and that -was much; but I, after long service and brief happiness, must go -out again alone, with only memories to comfort me. - -It was Simon Fleix's voice which awakened me from this unworthy -lethargy--as selfish as it was useless--and, recalling me to -myself, reminded me that precious time was passing while I stood -inactive. To get at me he had forced his way through the curious -crowd, and his face was flushed. He plucked me by the sleeve, -regarding the varlets round him with a mixture of anger and fear. - -'Nom de Dieu! do they take you for a rope-dancer?' he muttered -in my ear. 'Mount, sir, and come. There is not a moment to be -lost.' - -'You left her at Madame Catherine's?' I said. - -'To be sure,' he answered impatiently. 'Trouble not about her. -Save yourself, M. de Marsac. That is the thing to be done now.' - -I mounted mechanically, and felt my courage return as the horse -moved under me. I trotted through the crowd, and without thought -took the road by which we had come. When we had ridden a hundred -yards, however, I pulled up 'An hour is a short start,' I said -sullenly. 'Whither?' - -'To St. Cloud,' he answered promptly. 'The protection of the -King of France may avail for a day or two. After that, there -will still be the League, if Paris have not fallen.' - -I saw there was nothing else for it, and assented, and we set -off. The distance which separates Meudon from St. Cloud we might -have ridden under the hour, but the direct road runs across the -Scholars' Meadow, a wide plain north of Meudon. This lay exposed -to the enemy's fire, and was, besides, the scene of hourly -conflicts between the horse of both parties, so that to cross it -without an adequate force was impossible. Driven to make a -circuit, we took longer to reach our destination, yet did so -without mishap; finding the little town, when we came in sight of -it, given up to all the bustle and commotion which properly -belong to the Court and camp. - -It was, indeed, as full as it could be, for the surrender of -Paris being momentarily expected, St. Cloud had become the -rendezvous as well of the few who had long followed a principle -as of the many who wait upon success. The streets, crowded in, -every part, shone with glancing colours, with steel and velvet, -the garb of fashion and the plumes of war. Long lines of flags -obscured the eaves and broke the sunshine, while, above all, the -bells of half a dozen churches rang merry answer to the distant -crash of guns. Everywhere on flag and arch and streamer I read -the motto, 'Vive le Roi!'--words written, God knew then, and we -know now, in what a mockery of doom! - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - -''TIS AN ILL WIND.' - -We had made our way slowly and with much jostling as far as the -principal street, finding the press increase as we advanced, when -I heard, as I turned a corner, my name called, and, looking up, -saw at a window the face of which I was in search. After that -half a minute sufficed to bring M. d'Agen flying to my side, when -nothing, as I had expected, would do but I must dismount; where I -was and share his lodging. He made no secret of his joy and -surprise at sight of me, but pausing only to tell Simon where the -stable was, haled me through the crowd and up his stairs with a -fervour and heartiness which brought the tears to my eyes, and -served to impress the company whom I found above with a more than -sufficient sense of my importance. - -Seeing him again in the highest feather and in the full -employment of all those little arts and graces which served as a -foil to his real worth, I took it as a great honour that he laid -them aside for the nonce; and introduced me to the seat of honour -and made me known to his companions with a boyish directness and -a simple thought for my comfort which infinitely pleased me. He -bade his landlord, without a moment's delay, bring wine and meat -and everything which could refresh a traveller, and was himself -up and down a hundred times in a minute, calling to his servants -for this or that, or railing at them for their failure to bring -me a score of things I did not need. I hastened to make my -excuses to the company for interrupting them in the midst of -their talk; and these they were kind enough to accept in good -part. At the same time, reading clearly in M. d'Agen's excited -face and shining eyes that he longed to be alone with me, they -took the hint, and presently left us together. - -'Well,' he said, coming back from the door, to which he had -conducted them, 'what have you to tell me, my friend? She is not -with you?' - -'She is with Mademoiselle de la Vire at Meudon,' I answered, -smiling. 'And for the rest, she is well and in better spirits.' - -'She sent me some message? he asked. - -I shook my head. 'She did not know I should see you,' I -answered. - -'But she--she has spoken of me lately?' he continued, his face -falling. - -'I do not think she has named your name for a fortnight,' I -answered, laughing. 'There's for you! Why, man,' I continued, -adopting a different tone, and laying my hand on his shoulder in -a manner which reassured him at least; as much as my words, 'are -you so young a lover as to be ignorant that a woman says least of -that of which she thinks most? Pluck up, courage! Unless I am -mistaken, you have little to be afraid of except the past. Only -have patience.' - -'You think so?' he said gratefully. - -I assured him that I had no doubt of it; and on that he fell into -a reverie, and I to watching him. Alas for the littleness of our -natures! He had received me with open arms, yet at sight of the -happiness which took possession of his handsome face I gave way -to the pettiest feeling which can harbour in a man's breast. I -looked at him with eyes of envy, bitterly comparing my lot with -that which fate had reserved for him. He had fortune, good -looks, and success on his side, great relations, and high hopes; -I stood in instant jeopardy, my future dark, and every path which -presented itself so hazardous that I knew not which to adopt. He -was young, and I past my prime; he in favour, and I a fugitive. - -To such reflections he put an end in a way which made me blush -for my churlishness. For, suddenly awaking out, of his pleasant -dream, he asked me about myself and my fortunes, inquiring -eagerly how I came to be in St. Cloud, and listening to the story -of my adventures with a generous anxiety which endeared him to me -more and more. When I had done--and by that time Simon had -joined us, and was waiting at the lower end of the room--he -pronounced that I must see the king. - -'There is nothing else for it,' he said. - -'I have come to see him,' I answered. - -'Mon dieu, yes!' he continued, rising from his seat and looking -at me with a face of concern. 'No one else can help you.' - -I nodded. - -'Turenne has four thousand men here. You can do nothing against -so many?' - -'Nothing,' I said. 'The question is, will the king protect me?' - -'It is he or no one,' M. d'Agen answered warmly. 'You cannot see -him to-night: he has a Council. To-morrow at daybreak you may. -You must lie here to-night, and I will set my fellows to watch, -and I think you will be safe. I will away now and see if my -uncle will help. Can you think of anyone else who would speak -for you?' - -I considered, and was about to answer in the negative, when -Simon, who had listened with a scared face, suggested M. de -Crillon. - -'Yes, if he would,' M. d'Agen exclaimed, looking at the lad with -approbation. 'He has weight with the king.' - -'I think he might,' I replied slowly. 'I had a curious encounter -with him last night. And with that I told M. d'Agen of the duel -I fought at the inn. - -'Good!' he said, his eyes sparkling. 'I wish I had been there -to see. At any rate we will try him. Crillon fears no one, not -even the king.' - -So it was settled. For that night I was to keep close in my -friend's lodging, showing not even my nose at the window. - -When he had gone on his errand, and I found myself alone in the -room, I am fain to confess that I fell very low in my spirits. -M. d'Agen's travelling equipment lay about the apartment, but -failed to give any but an untidy air to its roomy bareness. The -light was beginning to wane, the sun was gone. Outside, the -ringing of bells and the distant muttering of guns, with the -tumult of sounds which rose from the crowded street, seemed to -tell of joyous life and freedom, and all the hopes and ambitions -from which I was cut off. - -Having no other employment, I watched the street, and keeping -myself well retired from the window saw knots of gay riders pass -this way and that through the crowd, their corslets shining and -their voices high. Monks and ladies, a cardinal and an -ambassador, passed under my eyes--these and an endless procession -of townsmen and beggars, soldiers and courtiers, Gascons, Normans -and Picards. Never had I seen such a sight or so many people -gathered together. It seemed as if half Paris had come out to -make submission, so that while my gorge rose against my own -imprisonment, the sight gradually diverted my mind from my -private distresses, by bidding me find compensation for them in -the speedy and glorious triumph of the cause. - -Even when the light failed the pageant did not cease, but, -torches and lanthorns springing into life, turned night into day. -From every side came sounds of revelry or strife. The crowd -continued to perambulate the streets until a late hour, with -cries of 'VIVE LE ROI!' and 'VIVE NAVARRE!' while now and again -the passage of a great noble with his suite called forth a fresh -outburst of enthusiasm. Nothing seemed more certain, more -inevitable, more clearly predestinated than that twenty-four -hours must see the fall of Paris. - -Yet Paris did not fall. - -When M. d'Agen returned a little before midnight, he found me -still sitting in the dark looking from the window. I heard him -call roughly for lights, and apprised by the sound of his voice -that something was wrong, I rose to meet him. He stood silent -awhile, twirling his small moustaches, and then broke into a -passionate tirade, from which I was not slow to gather that M. de -Rambouillet declined to serve me. - -'Well,' I said, feeling for the young man's distress and -embarrassment, 'perhaps he is right.' - -'He says that word respecting you came this evening,' my friend -answered, his cheeks red with shame, 'and that to countenance you -after that would only be to court certain humiliation. I did not -let him off too easily, I assure you,' M. d'Agen continued, -turning away to evade my gaze; 'but I got no satisfaction. He -said you had his good-will, and that to help you he would risk -something, but that to do so under these circumstances would be -only to injure himself.' - -'There is still Crillon,' I said, with as much cheerfulness as I -could assume. 'Pray Heaven he be there early! Did M. de -Rambouillet say anything else?' - -'That your only chance was to fly as quickly and secretly as -possible.' - -'He thought; my situation desperate, then?' - -My friend nodded; and scarcely less depressed on my account than -ashamed on his own, evinced so much feeling that it was all I -could do to comfort him; which I succeeded in doing only when I -diverted the conversation to Madame de Bruhl. We passed the -short night together, sharing the same room and the same bed, -and talking more than we slept--of madame and mademoiselle, the -castle on the hill, and the camp in the woods, of all old days in -fine, but little of the future. Soon after dawn Simon, who lay -on a pallet across the threshold, roused me from a fitful sleep -into which I had just fallen, and a few minutes later I stood up -dressed and armed, ready to try the last chance left to me. - -M. d'Agen had dressed stage for stage with me, and I had kept -silence. But when he took up his cap, and showed clearly that he -had it in his mind to go with me, I withstood him. 'No, I said, -'you can do me little good, and may do yourself much harm.' - -'You shall not go without one friend,' he cried fiercely. - -'Tut, tut!' I said. 'I shall have Simon.' - -But Simon, when I turned to speak to him, was gone. Few men are -at their bravest in the early hours of the day, and it did not -surprise me that the lad's courage had failed him. The defection -only strengthened, however, the resolution I had formed that I -would not injure M. d'Agen; though it was some time before I -could persuade him that I was in earnest, and would go alone or -not at all. In the end he had to content himself with lending me -his back and breast, which I gladly put on, thinking it likely -enough that I might be set upon before I reached the castle. And -then, the time being about seven, I parted from him with many -embraces and kindly words, and went into the street with my sword -under my cloak. - -The town, late in rising after its orgy, lay very still and -quiet. The morning was grey and warm, with a cloudy sky. The -flags, which had made so gay, a show yesterday, hung close to the -poles, or flapped idly and fell dead again. I walked slowly -along beneath them, keeping a sharp look-out on every side; but -there were few persons moving in the streets, and I reached the -Castle gates without misadventure. Here was something of life; -a bustle of officers and soldiers passing in and out, of -courtiers whose office made their presence necessary, of beggars -who had flocked hither in the night for company. In the middle -of these I recognised on a sudden and with great surprise Simon -Fleix walking my horse up and down. On seeing me he handed it to -a boy, and came up to speak to me with a red face, muttering that -four legs were better than two. I did not say much to him, my -heart being full and my thoughts occupied with the presence -chamber and what I should say there; but I nodded kindly to him, -and he fell in behind me as the sentries challenged me. I -answered them that I sought M. de Crillon, and so getting by, -fell into the rear of a party of three who seemed bent on the -same errand as myself. - -One of these was a Jacobin monk, whose black and white robes, by -reminding me of Father Antoine, sent a chill to my heart. The -second, whose eye I avoided, I knew to be M. la Guesle, the -king's Solicitor-General. The third was a stranger to me. -Enabled by M. la Guesle's presence to pass the main guards -without challenge, the party proceeded through a maze of passages -and corridors, conversing together in a low tone; while I, -keeping in their train with my face cunningly muffled, got as far -by this means as the ante-chamber, which I found almost empty. -Here I inquired of the usher for M. de Crillon, and learned with -the utmost consternation that he was not present. - -This blow, which almost stunned me, opened my eyes to the -precarious nature of my position, which only the early hour and -small attendance rendered possible for a moment. At any minute I -might be recognised and questioned, or my name be required; while -the guarded doors of the chamber shut me off as effectually from -the king's face and grace as though I were in Paris, or a hundred -leagues away. Endeavouring to the best of my power to conceal -the chagrin and alarm which possessed me as this conviction took -hold of me, I walked to the window; and to hide my face more -completely and at the same time gain a moment to collect my -thoughts, affected to be engaged in looking through it. - -Nothing which passed in the room, however, escaped me. I marked -everything and everyone, though all my thought was how I might -get to the king. The barber came out of the chamber with a -silver basin, and stood a moment, and went in again with an air -of vast importance. The guards yawned, and an officer entered, -looked round, and retired. M. la Guesle, who had gone in to the -presence, came out again and stood near me talking with the -Jacobin, whose pale nervous face and hasty movements reminded me -somehow of Simon Fleix. The monk held a letter or petition in -his hand, and appeared to be getting it by heart, for his lips -moved continually. The light which fell on his face from the, -window showed it to be of a peculiar sweaty pallor, and distorted -besides. But supposing him to be devoted, like many of his kind, -to an unwholesome life, I thought nothing of this; though I liked -him little, and would have shifted my place but for the -convenience of his neighbourhood. - -Presently, while I was cudgelling my brains, a person came out -and spoke to La Guesle; who called in his turn to the monk, and -started hastily towards the door. The Jacobin followed. The -third person who had entered in their company had his attention -directed elsewhere at the moment; and though La Guesle called to -him, took no heed. On the instant I grasped the situation. -Taking my courage in my hands, I crossed the floor behind the -monk; who, hearing me, or feeling his robe come in contact with -me, presently started and looked round suspiciously, his face -wearing a scowl so black and ugly that I almost recoiled from -him, dreaming for a moment that I saw before me the very spirit -of Father Antoine. But as the man said nothing, and the next -instant averted his gaze, I hardened my heart and pushed on -behind him, and passing the usher, found myself as by magic in -the presence which had seemed a while ago as unattainable by my -wits as it was necessary to my safety. - -It was not this success alone, however, which caused my heart to -beat more hopefully. The king was speaking as I entered, and the -gay tones of his voice seemed to promise a favourable reception. -His Majesty sat half-dressed on a stool at the farther end of the -apartment, surrounded by five or six noblemen, while as many -attendants, among whom I hastened to mingle, waited near the -door. - -La Guesle made as if he would advance, and then, seeing the -king's attention was not on him, held back. But in a moment the -king saw him and called to him. 'Ha, Guesle!' he said with -good-temper, 'is it you? Is your friend with you?' - -The Solicitor went forward with the monk at his elbow, and I had -leisure to remark the favourable change which had taken place in -the king, who spoke more strongly and seemed in better health -than of old. His face looked less cadaverous under the paint, -his form a trifle less emaciated. That which struck me more than -anything, however, was the improvement in his spirits. His eyes -sparkled from time to time, and he laughed continually, so that I -could scarcely believe that he was the same man whom I had seen -overwhelmed with despair and tortured by his conscience. - -Letting his attention slip from La Guesle, he began to bandy -words with the nobleman who stood nearest to him; looking up at -him with a roguish eye, and making bets on the fall of Paris. - -'Morbleu!' I heard him cry gaily, 'I would give a thousand -pounds to see the 'Montpensier this morning! She may keep her -third crown for herself. Or, PESTE! we might put her in a -convent. That would be a fine vengeance!' - -'The veil for the tonsure,' the nobleman said with a smirk. - -'Ay. Why not? She would have made a monk of me,' the king -rejoined smartly. 'She must be ready to hang herself with her -garters this morning, if she is not dead of spite already. Or, -stay, I had forgotten her golden scissors. Let her open a vein -with them. Well, what does your friend want, La Guesle?' - -I did not hear the answer, but it was apparently satisfactory, -for in a minute all except the Jacobin fell back, leaving the -monk standing before the king; who, stretching out his hand, took -from him a letter. The Jacobin, trembling visibly, seemed -scarcely able to support the honour done him, and the king, -seeing this, said in a voice audible to all, 'Stand up, man. You -are welcome. I love a cowl as some love a lady's hood. And now, -what is this?' - -He read a part of the letter and rose. As he did so the monk -leaned forward as though to receive the paper back again, and -then so swiftly, so suddenly, with so unexpected a movement that -no one stirred until all was over, struck the king in the body -with a knife! As the blade flashed and was hidden, and His -Majesty with a deep sob fell back on the stool, then, and not -till then, I knew that I had missed a providential chance of -earning pardon and protection. For had I only marked the Jacobin -as we passed the door together, and read his evil face aright, a -word, one word, had done for me more than the pleading of a score -of Crillons! - -Too late a dozen sprang forward to the king's assistance; but -before they reached him he had himself drawn the knife from the -wound and struck the assassin with it on the head. While some, -with cries of grief, ran to support Henry, from whose body the -blood was already flowing fast, others seized and struck down the -wretched monk. As they gathered round him I saw him raise -himself for a moment on his knees and look upward; the blood -which ran down his face, no less than the mingled triumph and -horror of his features, impressed the sight on my recollection. -The next instant three swords were plunged into his breast, and -his writhing body, plucked up from the floor amid a transport of -curses, was forced headlong through the casement and flung down -to make sport for the grooms and scullions who stood below. - -A scene of indescribable confusion followed, some crying that the -king was dead, while others called for a doctor, and some by name -for Dortoman. I expected to see the doors closed and all within -secured, that if the man had confederates they might be taken. -But there was no one to give the order. Instead, many who had -neither the ENTREE nor any business in the chamber forced their -way in, and by their cries and pressure rendered the hub-bub and -tumult a hundred times worse. In the midst of this, while I -stood stunned and dumbfounded, my own risks and concerns -forgotten, I felt my sleeve furiously plucked, and, looking -round, found Simon at my elbow. The lad's face was crimson, his -eyes seemed, starting from his head. - -'Come,' he muttered, seizing my arm. 'Come!' And without -further ceremony or explanation he dragged me towards the door, -while his face and manner evinced as much heat and impatience as -if he had been himself the assassin. 'Come, there is not a -moment to be lost,' he panted, continuing his exertions without -the least intermission. - -'Whither?' I said, in amazement, as I reluctantly permitted him -to force me along the passage and through the gaping crowd on the -stairs. 'Whither, man?' - -'Mount and ride!' was the answer he hissed in my ear. 'Ride for -your life to the King of Navarre--to the King of France it may -be! Ride as you have never ridden before, and tell him the news, -and bid him look to himself! Be the first, and, Heaven helping -us, Turenne may do his worst!' - -I felt every nerve in my body tingle as I awoke to his meaning. -Without a word I left his arm, and flung myself into the crowd -which filled the lower passage to suffocation. As I struggled -fiercely with them Simon aided me by crying 'A doctor! a doctor! -make way there!' and this induced many to give place to me under -the idea that I was an accredited messenger. Eventually I -succeeded in forcing my way through and reaching the courtyard; -being, as it turned out, the first person to issue from the -Chateau. A dozen people sprang towards me with anxious eyes and -questions on their lips; but I ran past them and, catching the -Cid, which was fortunately at hand, by the rein, bounded into the -saddle. - -As I turned the horse to the gate I heard Simon cry after me. -'The Scholars' Meadow! Go that way!' and then I heard no more. -I was out of the yard and galloping bare-headed down the pitched -street, while women snatched their infants up and ran aside, and -men came startled to the doors, crying that the League was upon -us. As the good horse flung up his head and bounded forward, -hurling the gravel behind him with hoofs which slid and clattered -on the pavement, as the wind began to whistle by me, and I seized -the reins in a shorter grip, I felt my heart bound with -exultation. I experienced such a blessed relief and elation as -the prisoner long fettered and confined feels when restored to -the air of heaven. - -Down one street and through a narrow lane we thundered, until a -broken gateway stopped with fascines--through which the Cid -blundered and stumbled--brought us at a bound into the Scholars' -Meadow just as the tardy sun broke through the clouds and flooded -the low, wide plain with brightness. Half a league in front of -us the towers of Meudon rose to view on a hill. In the distance, -to the left, lay the walls of Paris, and nearer, on the same -side, a dozen forts and batteries; while here and there, in that -quarter, a shining clump of spears or a dense mass of infantry -betrayed the enemy's presence. - -I heeded none of these things, however, nor anything except the -towers of Meudon, setting the Cid's head straight for these and -riding on at the top of his speed. Swiftly ditch and dyke came -into view before us and flashed away beneath us. Men lying in -pits rose up and aimed at us; or ran with cries to intercept us. -A cannon-shot fired from the fort by Issy tore up the earth to -one side; a knot of lancers sped from the shelter of an earthwork -in the same quarter, and raced us for half a mile, with frantic -shouts and threats of vengeance. But all such efforts were -vanity. The Cid, fired by this sudden call upon his speed, and -feeling himself loosed--rarest of events--to do his best, shook -the foam from his bit, and opening his blood-red nostrils to the -wind, crouched lower and lower; until his long neck, stretched -out before him, seemed, as the sward swept by, like the point of -an arrow speeding resistless to its aim. - -God knows, as the air rushed by me and the sun shone in my face, -I cried aloud like a boy, and though I sat still and stirred -neither hand nor foot, lest I should break the good Sard's -stride, I prayed wildly that the horse which I had groomed with -my own hands and fed with my last crown might hold on unfaltering -to the end. For I dreamed that the fate of a nation rode in my -saddle; and mindful alike of Simon's words, 'Bid him look to -himself,' and of my own notion that the League would not be so -foolish as to remove one enemy to exalt another, I thought -nothing more likely than that, with all my fury, I should arrive -too late, and find the King of Navarre as I had left the King of -France. - -In this strenuous haste I covered a mile as a mile has seldom -been covered before; and I was growing under the influence of the -breeze which whipped my temples somewhat more cool and hopeful, -when I saw on a sudden right before me, and between me and -Meudon, a handful of men engaged in a MELEE. There were red and -white jackets in it--leaguers and Huguenots--and the red coats -seemed to be having the worst of it. Still, while I watched, -they came off in order, and unfortunately in such a way and at -such a speed that I saw they must meet me face to face whether I -tried to avoid the encounter or not. I had barely time to take -in the danger and its nearness, and discern beyond both parties -the main-guard of the Huguenots, enlivened by a score of pennons, -when the Leaguers were upon me. - -I suppose they knew that no friend would ride for Meudon at that -pace, for they dashed at me six abreast with a shout of triumph; -and before I could count a score we met. The Cid was still -running strongly, and I had not thought to stay him, so that I -had no time to use my pistols. My sword I had out, but the sun -dazzled me and the men wore corslets, and I made but poor play -with it; though I struck out savagely, as we crashed together, in -my rage at this sudden crossing of my hopes when all seemed done -and gained. The Cid faced them bravely--I heard the distant -huzza of the Huguenots--and I put aside one point which -threatened my throat. But the sun was in my eyes and something -struck me on the head. Another second, and a blow in the breast -forced me fairly from the saddle. Gripping furiously at the air -I went down, stunned and dizzy, my last thought as I struck the -ground being of mademoiselle, and the little brook with the -stepping-stones. - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - -'LE ROI EST MORT!' - -It was M. d'Agen's breastpiece saved my life by warding off the -point of the varlet's sword, so that the worst injury I got was -the loss of my breath for five minutes, with a swimming in the -head and a kind of syncope. These being past, I found myself on -my back on the ground, with a man's knee on my breast and a dozen -horsemen standing round me. The sky reeled dizzily before my -eyes and the men's figures loomed gigantic; yet I had sense -enough to know what had happened to me, and that matters might -well be worse. - -Resigning myself to the prospect of captivity, I prepared to ask -for quarter; which I did not doubt I should receive, since they -had taken me in an open skirmish, and honestly, and in the -daylight. But the man whose knee already incommoded me -sufficiently, seeing me about to speak, squeezed me on a sudden -so fiercely, bidding me at the same time in a gruff whisper be -silent, that I thought I could not do better than obey. - -Accordingly I lay still, and as in a dream, for my brain was -still clouded, heard someone say, 'Dead! Is he? I hoped we had -come in time. Well, he deserved a better fate. Who is he, -Rosny?' - -'Do you know him, Maignan?' said a voice which sounded strangely -familiar. - -The man who knelt; upon me answered, 'No, my lord. He is a -stranger to me. He has the look of a Norman.' - -'Like enough!' replied a high-pitched voice I had not heard -before. 'For he rode a good horse. Give me a hundred like it, -and a hundred men to ride as straight, and I would not envy the -King of France.' - -'Much less his poor cousin of Navarre,' the first speaker -rejoined in a laughing tone, 'without a whole shirt to his back -or a doublet that is decently new. Come, Turenne, acknowledge -that you are not so badly off after all!' - -At that word the cloud which had darkened my faculties swept on a -sudden aside. I saw that the men into whose hands I had fallen -wore white favours, their leader a white plume; and comprehended -without more that the King of Navarre had come to my rescue, and -beaten off the Leaguers who had dismounted me. At the same -moment the remembrance of all that had gone before, and -especially of the scene I had witnessed in the king's chamber, -rushed upon my mind with such overwhelming force that I fell into -a fury of impatience at the thought of the time I had wasted; and -rising up suddenly I threw off Maignan with all my force, crying -out that I was alive--that I was alive, and had news. - -The equerry did his best to restrain me, cursing me under his -breath for a fool, and almost; squeezing the life out of me. But -in vain, for the King of Navarre, riding nearer, saw me -struggling. 'Hallo! hallo! 'tis a strange dead man,' he cried, -interposing. 'What is the meaning of this? Let him go! Do you -hear, sirrah? Let him go!' - -The equerry obeyed and stood back sullenly, and I staggered to my -feet, and looked round with eyes which still swam and watered. -On the instant a cry of recognition greeted me, with a hundred -exclamations of astonishment. While I heard my name uttered on -every side in a dozen different tones, I remarked that M. de -Rosny, upon whom my eyes first fell, alone stood silent, -regarding me with a face of sorrowful surprise. - -'By heavens, sir, I knew nothing of this!' I heard the King of -Navarre declare, addressing himself to the Vicomte de Turenne. -'The man is here by no connivance of mine. Interrogate him -yourself, if you will. Or I will. Speak, sir,' he continued, -turning to me with his countenance hard and forbidding. 'You -heard me yesterday, what I promised you? Why, in God's name, are -you here to-day?' - -I tried to answer, but Maignan had so handled me that I had not -breath enough, and stood panting. - -'Your Highness's clemency in this matter,' M. de Turenne said, -with a sneer, 'has been so great he trusted to its continuance. -And doubtless he thought to find you alone. I fear I am in the -way.' - -I knew him by his figure and his grand air, which in any other -company would have marked him for master; and forgetting the -impatience which a moment before had consumed me--doubtless I was -still light-headed--I answered him. 'Yet I had once the promise -of your lordship's protection,' I gasped. - -'My protection, sir?' he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming angrily. - -'Even so,' I answered. 'At the inn at Etampes, where M. de -Crillon would have fought me.' - -He was visibly taken aback. 'Are you that man?' he cried. - -'I am. But I am not here to prate of myself,' I replied. And -with that--the remembrance of my neglected errand flashing on me -again--I staggered to the King of Navarre's side, and, falling on -my knees, seized his stirrup. 'Sire, I bring you news! great -news! dreadful news!' I cried, clinging to it. 'His Majesty -was but a quarter of an hour ago stabbed in the body in his -chamber by a villain monk. And is dying, or, it may be, dead.' - -'Dead? The King!' Turenne cried with an oath. 'Impossible!' - -Vaguely I heard others crying, some this, some that, as surprise -and consternation, or anger, or incredulity moved them. But I -did not answer them, for Henry, remaining silent, held me -spellbound and awed by the, marvellous change which I saw fall on -his face. His eyes became on a sudden suffused with blood, and -seemed to retreat under his heavy brows; his cheeks turned of a -brick-red colour; his half-open lips showed his teeth gleaming -through his beard; while his great nose, which seemed to curve -and curve until it well-nigh met his chin, gave to his mobile -countenance an aspect as strange as it was terrifying. Withal he -uttered for a time no word, though I saw his hand, grip the -riding-whip he held in a convulsive grasp, as though his thought -were ''Tis mine! Mine! Wrest it away who dares!' - -'Bethink you, sir,' he said at last, fixing his piercing eyes on -me, and speaking in a harsh, low tone, like the growling of a -great dog, 'this is no jesting-time. Nor will you save your skin -by a ruse. Tell me, on your peril, is this a trick?' - -'Heaven forbid, sire!' I answered with passion. 'I was in the -chamber, and saw it; with my own eyes. I mounted on the instant, -and rode hither by the shortest route to warn your Highness to -look to yourself. Monks are many, and the Holy Union is not apt -to stop half-way.' - -I saw he believed me, for his face relaxed. His breath seemed to -come and go again, and for the tenth part of a second his eyes -sought M. de Rosny's. Then he looked at me again. - -'I thank you, sir, he said, bowing gravely and courteously, 'for -your care for me--not for your tidings, which are of the -sorriest. God grant my good cousin and king may be hurt only. -Now tell us exactly--for these gentlemen are equally interested -with myself--had a surgeon seen him?' - -I replied in the negative, but added that the wound was in the -groin, and bled much, - -'You said a few minutes ago, "dying or already dead!"' the King -of Navarre rejoined. 'Why?' - -'His Majesty's face was sunken,' I stammered. - -He nodded. 'You may be mistaken,' he said. 'I pray that you -are. But here comes Mornay. He may know more.' - -In a moment I was abandoned, even by M. de Turenne, so great was -the anxiety which possessed all to learn the truth. Maignan -alone, under pretence of adjusting a stirrup, remained beside me, -and entreated me in a low voice to begone. 'Take this horse, M. -de Marsac, if you will,' he urged, 'and ride back the way you -came. You have done what you came to do. Go back, and be -thankful.' - -'Chut!' I said, 'there is no danger.' - -'You will see,' he replied darkly, 'if you stay here. Come, -come, take my advice and the horse,' he persisted, 'and begone! -Believe me, it will be for the best.' - -I laughed outright at his earnestness and his face of perplexity. -'I see you have M. de Rosny's orders to get rid of me,' I said. -'But I am not going, my friend. He must find some other way out -of his embarrassment, for here I stay.' - -'Well, your blood be on your own head,' Maignan retorted, -swinging himself into the saddle with a gloomy face. 'I have -done my best to save you!' - -'And your master!' I answered, laughing. - -For flight was the last thing I had in my mind. I had ridden -this ride with a clear perception that the one thing I needed was -a footing at Court. By the special kindness of Providence I had -now gained this; and I was not the man to resign it because it -proved to be scanty and perilous. It was something that I had -spoken to the great Vicomte face to face and not been consumed, -that I had given him look for look and still survived, that I had -put in practice Crillon's lessons and come to no harm. - -Nor was this all. I had never in the worst times blamed the King -of Navarre for his denial of me, I had been foolish, indeed, -seeing that it was in the bargain, had I done so; nor had I ever -doubted his good-will or his readiness to reward me should -occasion arise. Now, I flattered myself, I had given him that -which he needed, and had hitherto lacked--an excuse, I mean, for -interference in my behalf. - -Whether I was right or wrong in this notion I was soon to learn, -for at this moment Henry's cavalcade, which had left me a hundred -paces behind, came to a stop, and while some of the number waved -to me to come on, one spurred back to summon me to the king. I -hastened to obey the order as fast as I could, but I saw on -approaching that though all was at a standstill till I came up, -neither the King of Navarre nor M. de Turenne was thinking -principally of me. Every face, from Henry's to that of his least -important courtier, wore an air of grave preoccupation; which I -had no difficulty in ascribing to the doubt present in every -mind, and outweighing every interest, whether the King of France -was dead, or dying, or merely wounded. - -'Quick, sir!' Henry said with impatience, as soon as I came -within hearing. 'Do not detain me with your affairs longer than -is necessary. M. de Turenne presses me to carry into effect the -order I gave yesterday. But as you have placed yourself in -jeopardy on my account I feel that; something is due to you. You -will be good enough, therefore, to present yourself at once at M. -la Varenne's lodging, and give me your parole to remain there -without stirring abroad until your affair is concluded.' - -Aware that I owed this respite, which at once secured my present -safety and promised well for the future, to the great event that, -even in M. de Turenne's mind, had overshadowed all others, I -bowed in silence. Henry, however, was not content with this. -'Come, sir,' he said sharply, and with every appearance of anger, -'do you agree to that?' - -I replied humbly that I thanked him for his clemency. - -'There is no need of thanks,' he replied coldly. 'What I have -done is without prejudice to M. de Turenne's complaint. He must -have justice.' - -I bowed again, and in a moment the troop were gone at a gallop -towards Meudon, whence, as I afterwards learned, the King of -Navarre, attended by a select body of five-and-twenty horsemen, -wearing private arms, rode on at full speed to St. Cloud to -present himself at his Majesty's bedside. A groom who had caught -the Cid, which had escaped into the town with no other injury -than a slight wound in the shoulder, by-and-by met me with the -horse; and in this way I was enabled to render myself with some -decency at Varenne's lodging, a small house at the foot of the -hill, not far from the Castle-gate. - -Here I found myself under no greater constraint than that which -my own parole laid upon me; and my room having the conveniency of -a window looking upon the public street, I was enabled from hour -to hour to comprehend and enter into the various alarms and -surprises which made that day remarkable. The manifold reports -which flew from mouth to mouth on the occasion, as well as the -overmastering excitement which seized all, are so well -remembered, however, that I forbear to dwell upon them, though -they served to distract my mind from my own position. Suffice it -that at one moment we heard that His Majesty was dead, at another -that the wound was skin deep, and again that we might expect him -at Meudon before sunset. The rumour that the Duchess de -Montpensier had taken poison was no sooner believed than we were -asked to listen to the guns of Paris firing FEUX DE JOIE in -honour of the King's death. - -The streets were so closely packed with persons telling and -hearing these tales that I seemed from my window to be looking on -a fair. Nor was all my amusement withoutdoors; for a number of -the gentlemen of the Court, hearing that I had been at St. Cloud -in the morning, and in the very chamber, a thing which made me -for the moment the most desirable companion in the world, -remembered on a sudden that they had a slight acquaintance with -me, and honoured me by calling upon me and sitting a great part -of the day with me. From which circumstance I confess I derived -as much hope as they diversion; knowing that courtiers are the -best weather-prophets in the world, who hate nothing so much as -to be discovered in the company of those on whom the sun does not -shine. - -The return of the King of Navarre, which happened about the -middle of the afternoon, while it dissipated the fears of some -and dashed the hopes of others, put an end to this state of -uncertainty by confirming, to the surprise of many, that His -Majesty was in no danger. We learned with varying emotions that -the first appearances, which had deceived, not myself only, but -experienced leeches, had been themselves belied by subsequent -conditions; and that, in a word, Paris had as much to fear, and -loyal men as much to hope, as before this wicked and audacious -attempt. - -I had no more than stomached this surprising information, which -was less welcome to me, I confess, than it should have been, when -the arrival of M. d'Agen, who greeted me with the affection which -he never failed to show me, distracted my thoughts for a time. -Immediately on learning where I was and, the strange adventures -which had befallen me he had ridden off; stopping only once, when -he had nearly reached me, for the purpose of waiting on Madame de -Bruhl. I asked him how she had received him. - -'Like herself,' he replied with an ingenuous blush. 'More kindly -than I had a right to expect, if not as warmly as I had the -courage to hope.' - -'That will come with time,' I said, laughing. 'And Mademoiselle -de la Vire?' - -'I did not see her,' he answered, 'but I heard she was well. And -a hundred fathoms deeper in love,' he added, eyeing me roguishly, -'than when I saw her last.' - -It was my turn to colour now, and I did so, feeling all the -pleasure and delight such, a statement was calculated to afford -me. Picturing mademoiselle as I had seen her last, leaning from -her horse with love written so plainly on her weeping face that -all who ran might read, I sank into so delicious a reverie that -M. la Varenne, entering suddenly, surprised us both before -another word passed on either side. - -His look and tone were as abrupt as it was in his nature, which -was soft and compliant, to make them. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, -'I am sorry to put any constraint upon you, but I am directed to -forbid you to your friends. And I must request this gentleman to -withdraw.' - -'But all day my friends have come in and out,' I said with -surprise. 'Is this a new order?' - -'A written order, which reached me no farther back than two -minutes ago, 'he answered plainly. 'I am also directed to remove -you to a room at the back of the house, that you may not overlook -the street.' - -'But my parole was taken,' I cried, with a natural feeling of -indignation. - -He shrugged his shoulders. 'I am sorry to say that I have -nothing to do with that,' he answered. 'I can only obey orders. -I must ask this gentleman, therefore, to withdraw.' - -Of course M. d'Agen had no option but to leave me; which he did, -I could see, notwithstanding his easy and confident expressions, -with a good deal of mistrust and apprehension. When he was gone, -La Varenne lost no time in carrying out the remainder of his -orders. As a consequence I found myself confined to a small and -gloomy apartment which looked, at a distance of three paces, upon -the smooth face of the rock on which the Castle stood. This -change, from a window which commanded all the life of the town, -and intercepted every breath of popular fancy, to a closet -whither no sounds penetrated, and where the very transition from -noon to evening scarcely made itself known, could not fail to -depress my spirits sensibly; the more as I took it to be -significant of a change in my fortunes fully as grave. -Reflecting that I must now appear to the King of Navarre in the -light of a bearer of false tidings, I associated the order to -confine me more closely with his return from St. Cloud; and -comprehending that M. de Turenne was once more at liberty to -attend to my affairs, I began to look about me with forebodings -which were none the less painful because the parole I had given -debarred me from any attempt to escape. - -Sleep and habit enabled me, nevertheless, to pass the night in -comfort. Very early in the morning a great firing of guns, which -made itself heard even in my quarters, led me to suppose that -Paris had surrendered; but the servant who brought me my -breakfast; declined in a surly fashion to give me any -information. In the end, I spent the whole day alone, my -thoughts divided between my mistress and my own prospects, which -seemed to grow more and more gloomy as the hours succeeded one -another. No one came near me, no step broke the silence of the -house; and for a while I thought my guardians had forgotten even -that I needed food. This omission, it is true, was made good -about sunset, but still M. la Varenne did not appear, the servant -seemed to be dumb, and I heard no sounds in the house. - -I had finished my meal an hour or more, and the room was growing -dark, when the silence was at last broken by quick steps passing -along the entrance. They paused, and seemed to hesitate at the -foot of the stairs, but the next moment they came on again, and -stopped at my door. I rose from my seat on hearing the key -turned in the lock, and my astonishment may be conceived when I -saw no other than M. de Turenne enter, and close the door behind -him. - -He saluted me in a haughty manner as he advanced to the table, -raising his cap for an instant and then replacing it. This done -he stood looking at me, and I at him, in a silence which on my -side was the result of pure astonishment; on his, of contempt and -a kind of wonder. The evening light, which was fast failing, -lent a sombre whiteness to his face, causing it to stand out from -the shadows behind him in a way which was not without its -influence on me. - -'Well!' he said at, last, speaking slowly and with unimaginable -insolence, 'I am here to look at you!' - -I felt my anger rise, and gave him back look for look. 'At your -will,' I said, shrugging my shoulders. - -'And to solve a question,' he continued in the same tone. 'To -learn whether the man who was mad enough to insult and defy me -was the old penniless dullard some called him, or the dare-devil -others painted him.' - -'You are satisfied now?' I said. - -He eyed me for a moment closely; then with sudden heat he cried, -'Curse me if I am! Nor whether I have to do with a man very deep -or very shallow, a fool or a knave!' - -'You may say what you please to a prisoner,' I retorted coldly. - -'Turenne commonly does--to whom he pleases!' he answered. The -next moment he made me start by saying, as he drew out a comfit- -box and opened it, 'I am just from the little fool you have -bewitched. If she were in my power I would have her whipped and -put on bread and water till she came to her senses. As she is -not, I must take another way. Have you any idea, may I ask,' he -continued in his cynical tone, 'what is going to become of you, -M. de Marsac?' - -I replied, my heart inexpressibly lightened by what he had said -of mademoiselle, that I placed the fullest confidence in the -justice of the King of Navarre. - -He repeated the name in a tone, I did not understand. - -'Yes, sir, the King of Navarre,' I answered firmly. - -'Well, I daresay you have good reason to do so,' he rejoined with -a sneer. 'Unless I am mistaken he knew a little more of this -affair than he acknowledges.' - -'Indeed? The King of Navarre?' I said, staring stolidly at him. - -'Yes, indeed, indeed, the King of Navarre!' he retorted, -mimicking me, with a nearer approach to anger than I had yet -witnessed in him. 'But let him be a moment, sirrah!' he -continued, 'and do you listen to me. Or first look at that. -Seeing is believing.' - -He drew out as he spoke a paper, or, to speak more correctly, a -parchment, which he thrust with a kind of savage scorn into my -hand. Repressing for the moment the surprise I felt, I took it -to the window, and reading it with difficulty, found it to be a -royal patent drawn, as far as I could judge, in due form, and -appointing some person unknown--for the name was left blank--to -the post of Lieutenant-Governor of the Armagnac, with a salary of -twelve thousand livres a year! - -'Well, sir?' he said impatiently. - -'Well?' I answered mechanically. For my brain reeled; the -exhibition of such a paper in such a way raised extraordinary -thoughts in my mind. - -'Can you read it?' he asked. - -'Certainly,' I answered, telling myself that he would fain play a -trick on me. - -'Very well,' he replied, 'then listen. I am going to condescend; -to make you an offer, M. de Marsac. I will procure you your -freedom, and fill up the blank, which you see there, with your -name--upon one condition.' - -I stared at him with all the astonishment it was natural for me -to feel in the face, of such a proposition. 'You will confer -this office on me?' I muttered incredulously. - -'The king having placed it at my disposal,' he answered, 'I will. -But first let me remind you,' he went on proudly, 'that the -affair has another side. On the one hand I offer you such -employment, M. de Marsac, as should satisfy your highest -ambition. On the other, I warn you that my power to avenge -myself is no less to-day than it was yesterday; and that if I -condescend to buy you, it is because that course commends itself -to me for reasons, not because it is the only one open.' - -I bowed. 'The condition, M. le Vicomte?' I said huskily, -beginning to understand him. - -'That you give up all claim and suit to the hand of my -kinswoman,' he answered lightly. 'That is all. It is a simple -and easy condition.' - -I looked at him in renewed astonishment, in wonder, in -stupefaction; asking myself a hundred questions. Why did he -stoop to bargain, who could command? Why did he condescend to -treat, who held me at his mercy? Why did he gravely discuss my -aspirations, to whom they must seem the rankest presumption? -Why?--but I could not follow it. I stood looking at him in -silence; in perplexity as great as if he had offered me the Crown -of France; in amazement and doubt and suspicion that knew no -bounds. - -'Well!' he said at last, misreading the emotion which appeared -in my face. 'You consent, sir?' - -'Never!' I answered firmly. - -He started. 'I think I cannot have heard you aright,' he said, -speaking slowly and almost courteously. 'I offer you a great -place and my patronage, M. de Marsac. Do I understand that you -prefer a prison and my enmity?' - -'On those conditions,' I answered. - -'Think, think!' he said harshly. - -'I have thought,' I answered. - -'Ay, but have you thought where you are?' he retorted. 'Have -you thought how many obstacles lie between you and this little -fool? How many persons you must win over, how many friends you -must gain? Have you thought what it will be to have me against -you in this, or which of us is more likely to win in the end?' - -'I have thought,' I rejoined. - -But my voice shook, my lips were dry. The room had grown dark. -The rock outside, intercepting the light, gave it already the -air of a dungeon. Though I did not dream of yielding to him, -though I even felt that in this interview he had descended to my -level, and I had had the better of him, I felt my heart sink. -For I remembered how men immured in prisons drag out their lives -always petitioning, always forgotten; how wearily the days go, -that to free men are bright with hope and ambition. And I saw in -a flash what it would be to remain here, or in some such place; -never to cross horse again, or breathe the free air of Heaven, -never to hear the clink of sword against stirrup, or the rich -tones of M. d'Agen's voice calling for his friend! - -I expected M. de Turenne to go when I had made my answer, or else -to fall into such a rage as opposition is apt to cause in those -who seldom encounter it. To my surprise, however, he restrained -himself. 'Come,' he said, with patience which fairly astonished -me, and so much the more as chagrin was clearly marked in his -voice, 'I know where you put your trust. You think the King of -Navarre will protect you. Well, I pledge you the honour of -Turenne that he will not; that the King of Navarre will do -nothing to save you. Now, what do you say?' - -'As I said before,' I answered doggedly. - -He took up the parchment from the table with a grim laugh. 'So -much the worse for you then!' he said, shrugging his shoulders. -'So much the worse for you! I took you for a rogue! It seems -you are a fool!' - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - -'VIVE LE ROI!' - -He took his leave with those words. But his departure, which I -should have hailed a few minutes before with joy, as a relief -from embarrassment and humiliation, found me indifferent. The -statement to which he had solemnly pledged himself in regard to -the King of Navarre, that I could expect no further help from -him, had prostrated me; dashing my hopes and spirits so -completely that I remained rooted to the spot long after his step -had ceased to sound on the stairs. If what he said was true, in -the gloom which darkened alike my room and my prospects I could -descry no glimmer of light. I knew His Majesty's weakness and -vacillation too well to repose any confidence in him; if the King -of Navarre also abandoned me, I was indeed without hope, as -without resource. - -I had stood some time with my mind painfully employed upon this -problem, which my knowledge of M. de Turenne's strict honour in -private matters did not allow me to dismiss lightly, when I heard -another step on the stairs, and in a moment M. la Varenne opened -the door. Finding me in the dark he muttered an apology for the -remissness of the servants; which I accepted, seeing nothing else -for it, in good part. - -'We have been at sixes-and-sevens all day, and you have been -forgotten,' he continued. 'But you will have no reason to -complain now. I am ordered to conduct you to His Majesty without -delay.' - -'To St. Cloud?' I exclaimed, greatly astonished. - -'No, the king of France is here,' he answered. - -'At Meudon?' - -'To be sure. Why not?' - -I expressed my wonder at his Majesty's rapid recovery. - -'Pooh!' he answered roughly. 'He is as well as he ever was. I -will leave you my light. Be good enough to descend as soon as -you are ready, for it is ill work keeping kings waiting. Oh! -and I had forgotten one thing,' he continued, returning when he -had already reached the door. 'My orders are to see that you do -not hold converse with anyone until you have seen the king, M. de -Marsac. You will kindly remember this if we are kept waiting in -the antechamber.' - -'Am I to be transported to--other custody?' I asked, my mind -full of apprehension. - -He shrugged his shoulders. 'Possibly,' he replied. 'I do not -know.' - -Of course there was nothing for it but to murmur that I was at -the king's disposition; after which La Varenne retired, leaving -me to put the best face on the matter I could. Naturally I -augured anything but well of an interview weighted with such a -condition; and this contributed still further to depress my -spirits, already lowered by the long solitude in which I had -passed the day. Fearing nothing, however, so much as suspense, I -hastened to do what I could to repair my costume, and then -descended to the foot of the stairs, where I found my custodian -awaiting me with a couple of servants, of whom one bore a link. - -We went out side by side, and having barely a hundred yards to -go, seemed in a moment to be passing through the gate of the -Castle. I noticed that the entrance was very strongly guarded, -but an instant's reflection served to remind me that this was not -surprising after what had happened at St. Cloud. I remarked to -M. la Varenne as we crossed the courtyard that I supposed Paris -had surrendered; but he replied in the negative so curtly, and -with so little consideration, that I forebore to ask any other -questions; and the Chateau being small, we found ourselves almost -at once in a long, narrow corridor, which appeared to serve as -the antechamber. - -It was brilliantly lighted and crowded from end to end, and -almost from wall to wall, with a mob of courtiers; whose silence, -no less than their keen and anxious looks, took me by surprise. -Here and there two or three, who had seized upon the embrasure of -a window, talked together in a low tone; or a couple, who thought -themselves sufficiently important to pace the narrow passage -between the waiting lines, conversed in whispers as they walked. -But even these were swift to take alarm, and continually looked -askance; while the general company stood at gaze, starting and -looking up eagerly whenever the door swung open or a newcomer was -announced. The strange silence which prevailed reminded me of -nothing so much as of the Court at Blois on the night of the Duke -of Mercoeur's desertion; but that stillness had brooded over -empty chambers, this gave a peculiar air of strangeness to a room -thronged in every part. - -M. la Varenne, who was received by those about the door with -silent politeness, drew me into the recess of a window; whence I -was able to remark, among other things, that the Huguenots -present almost outnumbered the king's immediate following. -Still, among those who were walking up and down, I noticed M. de -Rambouillet, to whom at another time I should have hastened to -pay my respects; with Marshal d'Aumont, Sancy, and Humieres. Nor -had I more than noted the presence of these before the door of -the chamber opened and added to their number Marshal Biron, who -came out leaning on the arm of Crillon. The sight of these old -enemies in combination was sufficient of itself to apprise me -that some serious crisis was at hand; particularly as their -progress through the crowd was watched, I observed, by a hundred -curious and attentive eyes. - -They disappeared at last through the outer door, and the -assemblage turned as with one accord to see who came next. But -nearly half an hour elapsed before the Chamber door, which all -watched so studiously, again opened. This time it was to give -passage to my late visitor, Turenne, who came out smiling, and -leaning, to my great surprise, on the arm of M. de Rosny. - -As the two walked down the room, greeting here and there an -obsequious friend, and followed in their progress by all eyes, I -felt my heart sink indeed; both at sight of Turenne's good- -humour, and of the company in which I found him. Aware that in -proportion as he was pleased I was like to meet with displeasure, -I still might have had hope left had I had Rosny left. Losing -him, however--and I could not doubt, seeing him as I saw him, -that I had lost him--and counting the King of Navarre as gone -already, I felt such a failure of courage as I had never known -before. I told myself with shame that I was not made for Courts, -or for such scenes as these; and recalling with new and keen -mortification the poor figure I had cut in the King of Navarre's -antechamber at St. Jean, I experienced so strange a gush of pity -for my mistress that nothing could exceed the tenderness I felt -for her. I had won her under false colours, I was not worthy of -her. I felt that my mere presence in her company in such a place -as this, and among these people, must cover her with shame and -humiliation. - -To my great relief, since I knew my face was on fire, neither of -the two, as they walked down the passage, looked my way or seemed -conscious of my neighbourhood. At the door they stood a moment -talking earnestly, and it seemed as if M. de Rosny would have -accompanied the Vicomte farther. The latter would not suffer it, -however, but took his leave there; and this with so many polite -gestures that my last hope based on M. de Rosny vanished. - -Nevertheless, that gentleman was not so wholly changed that on -his turning to re-traverse the room I did not see a smile flicker -for an instant on his features as the two lines of bowing -courtiers opened before him. The next moment his look fell on -me, and though his face scarcely altered, he stopped opposite me. - -'M. de Marsac is waiting to see His Majesty?' he asked aloud, -speaking to M. la Varenne. - -My companion remaining silent, I bowed. - -'In five minutes,' M. de Rosny replied quietly, yet with a -distant air, which made me doubt whether I had not dreamed all I -remembered of this man. 'Ah! M. de Paul, what can I do for -you?' he continued. And he bent his head to listen to the -application which a gentleman who stood next me poured into his -ear. 'I will see,' I heard him answer. 'In any case you shall -know to-morrow.' - -'But you will be my friend?' M. Paul urged, detaining him by the -sleeve. - -'I will put only one before you,' he answered. - -My neighbour seemed to shrink into himself with disappointment. -'Who is it?' he murmured piteously. - -'The king and his service, my friend,' M. de Rosny replied drily. -And with that he walked away. But half a dozen times at least; -before he reached the upper end of the room I saw the scene -repeated. - -I looked on at all this in the utmost astonishment, unable to -guess or conceive what had happened to give M. de Rosny so much -importance. For it did not; escape me that the few words he had -stopped to speak to me had invested me with interest in the eyes -of all who stood near. They gave me more room and a wider -breathing-space, and looking at me askance, muttered my name in -whispers. In my uncertainty, however, what this portended I drew -no comfort from it; and before I had found time to weigh it -thoroughly the door through which Turenne and Rosny had entered -opened again. The pages and gentlemen who stood about it -hastened to range themselves on either side. An usher carrying a -white wand came rapidly down the room, here and there requesting -the courtiers to stand back where the passage was narrow. Then a -loud voice without cried, 'The King, gentlemen! the King!' and -one in every two of us stood a-tiptoe to see him enter. - -But there came in only Henry of Navarre, wearing a violet cloak -and cap. - -I turned to La Varenne and with my head full of confusion, -muttered impatiently, 'But the king, man! Where is the king?' - -He grinned at me, with his hand before his mouth. 'Hush!' he -whispered. ''Twas a jest we played on you! His late Majesty -died at daybreak this morning. This is the king.' - -'This! the King of Navarre?' I cried; so loudly that some round -us called 'Silence!' - -'No, the King of France, fool!' he replied. 'Your sword must be -sharper than your wits, or I have been told some lies!' - -I let the gibe pass and the jest, for my heart was beating so -fast and painfully that I could scarcely preserve my outward -composure. There was a mist before my eyes, and a darkness which -set the lights at defiance. It was in vain I tried to think what -this might mean--to me. I could not put two thoughts together, -and while I still questioned what reception I might expect, and -who in this new state of things were my friends, the king stopped -before me. - -'Ha, M. de Marsac!' he cried cheerfully, signing to those who -stood before me to give place. 'You are the gentleman who rode -so fast to warn me the other morning. I have spoken to M. de -Turenne about you, and he is willing to overlook the complaint he -had against you. For the rest, go to my closet, my friend. Go! -Rosny knows my will respecting you.' - -I had sense enough left to kneel and kiss his hand; but it was in -silence, which he knew how to interpret. He had moved on and was -speaking to another before I recovered the use of my tongue, or -the wits which his gracious words had scattered. When I did so, -and got on my feet again I found myself the centre of so much -observation and the object of so many congratulations that I was -glad to act upon the hint which La Varenne gave me, and hurry -away to the closet. - -Here, though I had now an inkling of what I had to expect, I -found myself received with a kindness which bade fair to -overwhelm me. Only M. de Rosny was in the room, and he took me -by both hands in a manner which told me without a word that the -Rosny of old days was back, and that; for the embarrassment I had -caused him of late I was more than forgiven. When I tried to -thank him for the good offices which I knew he had done me with -the king he would have none of it; reminding me with a smile that -he had eaten of my cheese when the choice lay between that and -Lisieux. - -'And besides, my friend,' he continued, his eyes twinkling, 'You -have made me richer by five hundred crowns.' - -'How so?' I asked, wondering more and more. - -'I wagered that sum with Turenne that he could not bribe you,' -he answered, smiling. 'And see,' he continued, selecting from -some on the table the same parchment I had seen before, 'here is -the bribe. Take it; it is yours. I have given a score to-day, -but none with the same pleasure. Let me be the first to -congratulate the Lieutenant-Governor of the Armagnac.' - -For a while I could not believe that he was in earnest; which -pleased him mightily, I remember. When I was brought at last to -see that the king had meant this for me from the first, and had -merely lent the patent to Turenne that the latter might make -trial of me, my pleasure and gratification were such that I could -no more express them then than I can now describe them. For they -knew no bounds. I stood before Rosny silent and confused, with -long-forgotten tears welling up to my eyes, and one regret only -in my heart--that my dear mother had not lived to see the fond -illusions with which I had so often amused her turned to sober -fact. Not then, but afterwards, I remarked that the salary of my -office amounted to the exact sum which I had been in the habit of -naming to her; and I learned that Rosny had himself fixed it on -information given him by Mademoiselle de la Vire. - -As my transports grew more moderate, and I found voice to thank -my benefactor, he had still an answer. 'Do not deceive yourself, -my friend,' he said gravely, 'or think this an idle reward. My -master is King of France, but he is a king without a kingdom, and -a captain without money. To-day, to gain his rights, he has -parted with half his powers. Before he win all back there will -be blows--blows, my friend. And to that end I have bought your -sword.' - -I told him that if no other left its scabbard for the king, mine -should be drawn. - -'I believe you,' he answered kindly, laying his hand on my -shoulder. 'Not by reason of your words--Heaven knows I have -heard vows enough to-day!--but because I have proved you. And -now,' he continued, speaking in an altered tone and looking at me -with a queer smile, 'now I suppose you are perfectly satisfied? -You have nothing more to wish for, my friend?' - -I looked aside in a guilty fashion, not daring to prefer on the -top of all his kindness a further petition. Moreover, His -Majesty might have other views; or on this point Turenne might -have proved obstinate. In a word, there was nothing in what had -happened, or on M. de Rosny's communication, to inform me whether -the wish of my heart was to be gratified or not. - -But I should have known that great man better than to suppose -that he was one to promise without performing, or to wound a -friend when he could not salve the hurt. After enjoying my -confusion for a time he burst into a great shout of laughter, -and taking me familiarly by the shoulders, turned me towards the -door. 'There, go!' he said. 'Go up the passage. You will find -a door on the right, and a door on the left. You will know which -to open.' - -Forbidding me to utter a syllable, he put me out. In the -passage, where I fain would have stood awhile to collect my -thoughts, I was affrighted by sounds which warned me that the -king was returning that way. Fearing to be surprised by him in -such a state of perturbation, I hurried to the end of the -passage, where I discovered, as I had been told, two doors. - -They were both closed, and there was nothing about either of them -to direct my choice. But M. de Rosny was correct in supposing -that I had not forgotten the advice he had offered me on the day -when he gave me so fine a surprise in his own house--'When you -want a good wife, M. de Marsac, turn to the right!' I remembered -the words, and without a moment's hesitation--for the king and -his suite were already entering the passage--I knocked boldly, -and scarcely waiting for an invitation, went in. - -Fanchette was by the door, but stood aside with a grim smile, -which I was at liberty to accept as a welcome or not. -Mademoiselle, who had been seated on the farther side of the -table, rose as I entered, and we stood looking at one another. -Doubtless she waited for me to speak first; while I on my side -was so greatly taken aback by the change wrought in her by the -Court dress she was wearing and the air of dignity with which she -wore it, that I stood gasping. I turned coward after all that -had passed between us. This was not the girl I had wooed in the -greenwood by St. Gaultier; nor the pale-faced woman I had lifted -to the saddle a score of times in the journey Paris-wards. The -sense of unworthiness which I had experienced a few minutes -before in the crowded antechamber returned in full force in -presence of her grace and beauty, and once more I stood tongue- -tied before her, as I had stood in the lodgings at Blois. All -the later time, all that had passed between us was forgotten. - -She, for her part, looked at me wondering at my silence. Her -face, which had grown rosy red at my entrance, turned pale again. -Her eyes grew large with alarm; she began to beat her foot on the -floor in a manner I knew. 'Is anything the matter, sir?' she -muttered at last. - -'On the contrary, mademoiselle,' I answered hoarsely, looking -every way, and grasping at the first thing I could think of, 'I -am just from M. de Rosny.' - -'And he?' - -'He has made me Lieutenant-Governor of the Armagnac.' - -She curtseyed to me in a wonderful fashion. 'It pleases me to -congratulate you, sir,' she said, in a voice between laughing and -crying. 'It is not more than equal to your deserts.' - -I tried to thank her becomingly, feeling at the same time more -foolish than I had ever felt in my life; for I knew that this was -neither what I had come to tell nor she to hear. Yet I could not -muster up courage nor find words to go farther, and stood by the -table in a state of miserable discomposure. - -'Is that all, sir?' she said at last, losing patience. - -Certainly it was now or never, and I knew it. I made the effort. -'No, mademoiselle,' I said in a low voice. 'Far from it. But I -do not see here the lady to whom I came to address myself, and -whom I have seen a hundred times in far other garb than yours, -wet and weary and dishevelled, in danger and in flight. Her I -have served and loved; and for her I have lived. I have had no -thought for months that has not been hers, nor care save for her. -I and all that I have by the king's bounty are hers, and I came -to lay them at her feet. But I do not see her here.' - -'No, sir?' she answered in a whisper, with her face averted. - -'No, mademoiselle.' - -With a sudden brightness and quickness which set my heart beating -she turned, and looked at me. 'Indeed!' she said. 'I am sorry -for that. It is a pity your love should be given elsewhere, M. -de Marsac--since it is the king's will that you should marry me.' - -'Ah, mademoiselle!' I cried, kneeling before her--for she had -come round the table and stood beside me--'But you?' - -'It is my will too, sir,' she answered, smiling through her -tears. - -* * * - -On the following day Mademoiselle de la Vire became my wife; the -king's retreat from Paris, which was rendered necessary by the -desertion of many who were ill-affected to the Huguenots, -compelling the instant performance of the marriage, if we would -have it read by M. d'Amours. This haste notwithstanding, I was -enabled by the kindness of M. d'Agen to make such an appearance, -in respect both of servants and equipment, as became rather my -future prospects than my past distresses. It is true that His -Majesty, out of a desire to do nothing which might offend -Turenne, did not honour us with his presence; but Madame -Catherine attended on his behalf, and herself gave me my bride. -M. de Sully and M. Crillon, with the Marquis de Rambouillet and -his nephew, and my distant connection, the Duke de Rohan, who -first acknowledged me on that day, were among those who earned my -gratitude by attending me upon the occasion. - -The marriage of M. Francois d'Agen with the widow of my old rival -and opponent did not take place until something more than a year -later, a delay which was less displeasing to me than to the -bridegroom, inasmuch as it left madame at liberty to bear my wife -company during my absence on the campaign of Arques and Ivry. In -the latter battle, which added vastly to the renown of M. de -Rosny, who captured the enemy's standard with his own hand, I had -the misfortune to be wounded in the second of the two charges led -by the king; and being attacked by two foot soldiers, as I lay -entangled I must inevitably have perished but for the aid -afforded me by Simon Fleix, who flew to the rescue with the -courage of a veteran. His action was observed by the king, who -begged him from me, and attaching him to his own person in the -capacity of clerk, started him so fairly on the road to fortune -that he has since risen beyond hope or expectation. - -The means by which Henry won for a time the support of Turenne -(and incidentally procured his consent to my marriage) are now -too notorious to require explanation. Nevertheless, it was not -until the Vicomte's union a year later with Mademoiselle de la -Marck, who brought him the Duchy of Bouillon, that I thoroughly -understood the matter; or the kindness peculiar to the king, my -master, which impelled that great monarch, in the arrangement of -affairs so vast, to remember the interests of the least of his -servants. - - - - - -End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Gentleman of France, by Weyman - diff --git a/old/gntfr10.zip b/old/gntfr10.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 618fe0f..0000000 --- a/old/gntfr10.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-0.txt b/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4ee38eb..0000000 --- a/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15317 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Gentleman of France, by Stanley Weyman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: A Gentleman of France - -Author: Stanley Weyman - -Posting Date: October 5, 2008 [EBook #1939] -Release Date: October, 1999 -Last Updated: November 20, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE *** - - - - -Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer - - - - - -A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE - -BEING THE MEMOIRS OF GASTON DE BONNE SIEUR DE MARSAC - -By Stanley Weyman - - -Transcriber’s Note: - -In this Etext, text in italics has been written in capital letters. - -Many French words in the text have accents, etc. which have been -omitted. - - - -CONTENTS. - - CHAPTER I. THE SPORT OF FOOLS - CHAPTER II. THE KING OF NAVARRE - CHAPTER III. BOOT AND SADDLE - CHAPTER IV. MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE - CHAPTER V. THE ROAD TO BLOIS - CHAPTER VI. MY MOTHER’S LODGING - CHAPTER VII. SIMON FLEIX - CHAPTER VIII. AN EMPTY ROOM - CHAPTER IX. THE HOUSE IN THE RUELLE D’ARCY - CHAPTER X. THE FIGHT ON THE STAIRS - CHAPTER XI. THE MAN AT THE DOOR - CHAPTER XII. MAXIMILIAN DE BETHUNE, BARON DE ROSNY - CHAPTER XIII. AT ROSNY - CHAPTER XIV. M. DE RAMBOUILLET - CHAPTER XV. VILAIN HERODES - CHAPTER XVI. IN THE KING’S CHAMBER - CHAPTER XVII. THE JACOBIN MONK - CHAPTER XVIII. THE OFFER OF THE LEAGUE - CHAPTER XIX. MEN CALL IT CHANCE - CHAPTER XX. THE KING’S FACE - CHAPTER XXI. TWO WOMEN - CHAPTER XXII. ‘LA FEMME DISPOSE’ - CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAST VALOIS - CHAPTER XXIV. A ROYAL PERIL - CHAPTER XXV. TERMS OF SURRENDER - CHAPTER XXVI. MEDITATIONS - CHAPTER XXVII. TO ME, MY FRIENDS! - CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CASTLE ON THE HILL - CHAPTER XXIX. PESTILENCE AND FAMINE - CHAPTER XXX. STRICKEN - CHAPTER XXXI. UNDER THE GREENWOOD - CHAPTER XXXII. A TAVERN BRAWL - CHAPTER XXXIII. AT MEUDON - CHAPTER XXXIV. ‘’TIS AN ILL WIND’ - CHAPTER XXXV. ‘LE ROI EST MORT’ - CHAPTER XXXVI. ‘VIVE LE ROI!’ - - - - -A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. THE SPORT OF FOOLS. - -The death of the Prince of Conde, which occurred in the spring of 1588, -by depriving me of my only patron, reduced me to such straits that the -winter of that year, which saw the King of Navarre come to spend his -Christmas at St. Jean d’Angely, saw also the nadir of my fortunes. I did -not know at this time--I may confess it to-day without shame--wither to -turn for a gold crown or a new scabbard, and neither had nor discerned -any hope of employment. The peace lately patched up at Blois between the -King of France and the League persuaded many of the Huguenots that their -final ruin was at hand; but it could not fill their exhausted treasury -or enable them to put fresh troops into the field. - -The death of the Prince had left the King of Navarre without a rival -in the affections of the Huguenots; the Vicomte de Turenne, whose -turbulent; ambition already began to make itself felt, and M. de -Chatillon, ranking next to him. It was my ill-fortune, however, to be -equally unknown to all three leaders, and as the month of December which -saw me thus miserably straitened saw me reach the age of forty, which I -regard, differing in that from many, as the grand climacteric of a -man’s life, it will be believed that I had need of all the courage which -religion and a campaigner’s life could supply. - -I had been compelled some time before to sell all my horses except the -black Sardinian with the white spot on its forehead; and I now found -myself obliged to part also with my valet de chambre and groom, whom I -dismissed on the same day, paying them their wages with the last links -of gold chain left to me. It was not without grief and dismay that I saw -myself thus stripped of the appurtenances of a man of birth, and driven -to groom my own horse under cover of night. But this was not the worst. -My dress, which suffered inevitably from this menial employment, began -in no long time to bear witness to the change in my circumstances; so -that on the day of the King of Navarre’s entrance into St. Jean I dared -not face the crowd, always quick to remark the poverty of those above -them, but was fain to keep within doors and wear out my patience in the -garret of the cutler’s house in the Rue de la Coutellerie, which was all -the lodging I could now afford. - -Pardieu, ‘tis a strange world! Strange that time seems to me; more -strange compared with this. My reflections on that day, I remember, were -of the most melancholy. Look at it how I would, I could not but see that -my life’s spring was over. The crows’ feet were gathering about my eyes, -and my moustachios, which seemed with each day of ill-fortune to stand -out more fiercely in proportion as my face grew leaner, were already -grey. I was out at elbows, with empty pockets, and a sword which peered -through the sheath. The meanest ruffler who, with broken feather and -tarnished lace, swaggered at the heels of Turenne, was scarcely to be -distinguished from me. I had still, it is true, a rock and a few barren -acres in Brittany, the last remains of the family property; but the -small small sums which the peasants could afford to pay were sent -annually to Paris, to my mother, who had no other dower. And this I -would not touch, being minded to die a gentleman, even if I could not -live in that estate. - -Small as were my expectations of success, since I had no one at the -king’s side to push my business, nor any friend at Court, I nevertheless -did all I could, in the only way that occurred to me. I drew up a -petition, and lying in wait one day for M. Forget, the King of Navarre’s -secretary, placed it in his hand, begging him to lay it before that -prince. He took it, and promised to do so, smoothly, and with as much -lip-civility as I had a right to expect. But the careless manner in -which he doubled up and thrust away the paper on which I had spent so -much labour, no less than the covert sneer of his valet, who ran after -me to get the customary present--and ran, as I still blush to remember, -in vain--warned me to refrain from hope. - -In this, however, having little save hope left, I failed so signally -as to spend the next day and the day after in a fever of alternate -confidence and despair, the cold fit following the hot with perfect -regularity. At length, on the morning of the third day--I remember it -lacked but three of Christmas--I heard a step on the stairs. My landlord -living in his shop, and the two intervening floors being empty, I had no -doubt the message was for me, and went outside the door to receive it, -my first glance at the messenger confirming me in my highest hopes, -as well as in all I had ever heard of the generosity of the King of -Navarre. For by chance I knew the youth to be one of the royal pages; a -saucy fellow who had a day or two before cried ‘Old Clothes’ after me in -the street. I was very far from resenting this now, however, nor did -he appear to recall it; so that I drew the happiest augury as to the -contents of the note he bore from the politeness with which he presented -it to me. - -I would not, however, run the risk of a mistake, and before holding out -my hand, I asked him directly and with formality if it was for me. - -He answered, with the utmost respect, that it was for the Sieur de -Marsac, and for me if I were he. - -‘There is an answer, perhaps?’ I said, seeing that he lingered. - -‘The King of Navarre, sir,’ he replied, with a low bow, ‘will receive -your answer in person, I believe.’ And with that, replacing the hat -which he had doffed out of respect to me, he turned and went down the -stairs. - -Returning to my room, and locking the door, I hastily opened the -missive, which was sealed with a large seal, and wore every appearance -of importance. I found its contents to exceed all my expectations. The -King of Navarre desired me to wait on him at noon on the following day, -and the letter concluded with such expressions of kindness and goodwill -as left me in no doubt of the Prince’s intentions. I read it, I confess, -with emotions of joy and gratitude which would better have become a -younger man, and then cheerfully sat down to spend the rest of the -day in making such improvements in my dress as seemed possible. With a -thankful heart I concluded that I had now escaped from poverty, at any -rate from such poverty as is disgraceful to a gentleman; and consoled -myself for the meanness of the appearance I must make at Court with the -reflection that a day or two would mend both habit and fortune. - -Accordingly, it was with a stout heart that I left my lodgings a few -minutes before noon next morning, and walked towards the castle. It was -some time since I had made so public an appearance in the streets, which -the visit of the King of Navarre’s Court; had filled with an unusual -crowd, and I could not help fancying as I passed that some of the -loiterers eyed me with a covert smile; and, indeed, I was shabby enough. -But finding that a frown more than sufficed to restore the gravity of -these gentry, I set down the appearance to my own self-consciousness, -and, stroking my moustachios, strode along boldly until I saw before me, -and coming to meet me, the same page who had delivered the note. - -He stopped in front of me with an air of consequence, and making me a -low bow--whereat I saw the bystanders stare, for he was as gay a young -spark as maid-of-honour could desire--he begged me to hasten, as the -king awaited me in his closet. - -‘He has asked for you twice, sir,’ he continued importantly, the feather -of his cap almost sweeping the ground. - -‘I think,’ I answered, quickening my steps, ‘that the king’s letter says -noon, young sir. If I am late on such an occasion, he has indeed cause -to complain of me.’ - -‘Tut, tut!’ he rejoined waving his hand with a dandified ‘It is no -matter. One man may steal a horse when another may not look over the -wall, you know.’ - -A man may be gray-haired, he may be sad-complexioned, and yet he may -retain some of the freshness of youth. On receiving this indication of a -favour exceeding all expectation, I remember I felt the blood rise to -my face, and experienced the most lively gratitude. I wondered who had -spoken in my behalf, who had befriended me; and concluding at last that -my part in the affair at Brouage had come to the king’s ears, though I -could not conceive through whom, I passed through the castle gates with -an air of confidence and elation which was not unnatural, I think, under -the circumstances. Thence, following my guide, I mounted the ramp and -entered the courtyard. - -A number of grooms and valets were lounging here, some leading horses -to and fro, others exchanging jokes with the wenches who leaned from -the windows, while their fellows again stamped up and down to keep -their feet warm, or played ball against the wall in imitation of their -masters. Such knaves are ever more insolent than their betters; but -I remarked that they made way for me with respect, and with rising -spirits, yet a little irony, I reminded myself as I mounted the stairs -of the words, ‘whom the king delighteth to honour!’ - -Reaching the head of the flight, where was a soldier on guard, the page -opened the door of the antechamber, and standing aside bade me enter. I -did so, and heard the door close behind me. - -For a moment I stood still, bashful and confused. It seemed to me that -there were a hundred people in the room, and that half the eyes which -met mine were women’s, Though I was not altogether a stranger to such -state as the Prince of Conde had maintained, this crowded anteroom -filled me with surprise, and even with a degree of awe, of which I was -the next moment ashamed. True, the flutter of silk and gleam of jewels -surpassed anything I had then seen, for my fortunes had never led me -to the king’s Court; but an instant’s reflection reminded me that my -fathers had held their own in such scenes, and with a bow regulated -rather by this thought than by the shabbiness of my dress, I advanced -amid a sudden silence. - -‘M. de Marsac!’ the page announced, in a tone which sounded a little -odd in my ears; so much so, that I turned quickly to look at him. He was -gone, however, and when I turned again the eyes which met mine were -full of smiles. A young girl who stood near me tittered. Put out of -countenance by this, I looked round in embarrassment to find someone to -whom I might apply. - -The room was long and narrow, panelled in chestnut, with a row of -windows on the one hand, and two fireplaces, now heaped with glowing -logs, on the other. Between the fireplaces stood a rack of arms. Round -the nearer hearth lounged a group of pages, the exact counterparts of -the young blade who had brought me hither; and talking with these were -as many young gentlewomen. Two great hounds lay basking in the heat, -and coiled between them, with her head on the back of the larger, was a -figure so strange that at another time I should have doubted my eyes. It -wore the fool’s motley and cap and bells, but a second glance showed me -the features were a woman’s. A torrent of black hair flowed loose about -her neck, her eyes shone with wild merriment, and her face, keen, thin, -and hectic, glared at me from the dog’s back. Beyond her, round the -farther fireplace, clustered more than a score of gallants and ladies, -of whom one presently advanced to me. - -‘Sir,’ he said politely--and I wished I could match his bow--‘you wished -to see--?’ - -‘The King of Navarre,’ I answered, doing my best. - -He turned to the group behind him, and said, in a peculiarly even, -placid tone, ‘He wishes to see the King of Navarre.’ Then in solemn -silence he bowed to me again and went back to his fellows. - -Upon the instant, and before I could make up my mind how to take this, a -second tripped forward, and saluting me, said, ‘M. de Marsac, I think?’ - -‘At your service, sir,’ I rejoined. In my eagerness to escape the gaze -of all those eyes, and the tittering which was audible behind me, I took -a step forward to be in readiness to follow him. But he gave no sign. -‘M. de Marsac to see the King of Navarre’ was all he said, speaking as -the other had close to those behind. And with that he too wheeled round -and went back to the fire. - -I stared, a first faint suspicion of the truth aroused in my mind. -Before I could act upon it, however--in such a situation it was no -easy task to decide how to act--a third advanced with the same measured -steps. ‘By appointment I think, sir?’ he said, bowing lower than the -others. - -‘Yes,’ I replied sharply, beginning to grow warm, ‘by appointment at -noon.’ - -‘M. de Marsac,’ he announced in a sing-song tone to those behind him, -‘to see the King of Navarre by appointment at noon.’ And with a second -bow--while I grew scarlet with mortification he too wheeled gravely -round and returned to the fireplace. - -I saw another preparing to advance, but he came too late. Whether my -face of anger and bewilderment was too much for them, or some among -them lacked patience to see the end, a sudden uncontrollable shout of -laughter, in which all the room joined, cut short the farce. God knows -it hurt me: I winced, I looked this way and that, hoping here or there -to find sympathy and help. But it seemed to me that the place rang -with gibes, that every panel framed, however I turned myself, a cruel, -sneering face. One behind me cried ‘Old Clothes,’ and when I turned -the other hearth whispered the taunt. It added a thousandfold to my -embarrassment that there was in all a certain orderliness, so that while -no one moved, and none, while I looked at them, raised their voices, I -seemed the more singled out, and placed as a butt in the midst. - -One face amid the pyramid of countenances which hid the farther -fireplace so burned itself into my recollection in that miserable -moment, that I never thereafter forgot it; a small, delicate woman’s -face, belonging to a young girl who stood boldly in front of her -companions. It was a face full of pride, and, as I saw it then, of -scorn--scorn that scarcely deigned to laugh; while the girl’s graceful -figure, slight and maidenly, yet perfectly proportioned, seemed instinct -with the same feeling of contemptuous amusement. - -The play, which seemed long enough to me, might have lasted longer, -seeing that no one there had pity on me, had I not, in my desperation, -espied a door at the farther end of the room, and concluded, seeing no -other, that it was the door of the king’s bedchamber. The mortification -I was suffering was so great that I did not hesitate, but advanced with -boldness towards it. On the instant there was a lull in the laughter -round me, and half a dozen voices called on me to stop. - -‘I have come to see the king,’ I answered, turning on them fiercely, for -I was by this time in no mood for browbeating, ‘and I will see him!’ - -‘He is out hunting,’ cried all with one accord; and they signed -imperiously to me to go back the way I had come. - -But having the king’s appointment safe in my pouch, I thought I had good -reason to disbelieve them; and taking advantage of their surprise--for -they had not expected so bold a step on my part--I was at the door -before they could prevent me. I heard Mathurine, the fool, who had -sprung to her feet, cry ‘Pardieu! he will take the Kingdom of Heaven -by force!’ and those were the last words I heard; for, as I lifted the -latch--there was no one on guard there--a sudden swift silence fell upon -the room behind me. - -I pushed the door gently open and went in. There were two men sitting -in one of the windows, who turned and looked angrily towards me. For the -rest the room was empty. The king’s walking-shoes lay by his chair, and -beside them the boot-hooks and jack. A dog before the fire got up slowly -and growled, and one of the men, rising from the trunk on which he -had been sitting, came towards me and asked me, with every sign of -irritation, what I wanted there, and who had given me leave to enter. - -I was beginning to explain, with some diffidence the stillness of -the room sobering me--that I wished to see the king, when he who had -advanced took me up sharply with, ‘The king? the king? He is not here, -man. He is hunting at St. Valery. Did they not tell you so outside?’ - -I thought I recognised the speaker, than whom I have seldom seen a man -more grave and thoughtful for his years, which were something less than -mine, more striking in presence, or more soberly dressed. And being -desirous to evade his question, I asked him if I had not the honour to -address M. du Plessis Mornay; for that wise and courtly statesman, now a -pillar of Henry’s counsels, it was. - -‘The same, sir,’ he replied, abruptly, and without taking his eyes from -me. ‘I am Mornay. What of that?’ - -‘I am M. de Marsac,’ I explained. And there I stopped, supposing that, -as he was in the king’s confidence, this would make my errand clear to -him. - -But I was disappointed. ‘Well, sir?’ he said, and waited impatiently. - -So cold a reception, following such treatment as I had suffered outside, -would have sufficed to have dashed my spirits utterly had I not felt -the king’s letter in my pocket. Being pretty confident, however, that a -single glance at this would alter M. du Mornay’s bearing for the better, -I hastened, looking on it as a kind of talisman, to draw it out and -present it to him. - -He took it, and looked at it, and opened it, but with so cold and -immovable an aspect as made my heart sink more than all that had gone -before. ‘What is amiss?’ I cried, unable to keep silence. ‘’Tis from the -king, sir.’ - -‘A king in motley!’ he answered, his lip curling. - -The sense of his words did not at once strike home to me, and I -murmured, in great disorder, that the king had sent for me. - -‘The king knows nothing of it,’ was his blunt answer, bluntly given. And -he thrust the paper back into my hands. ‘It is a trick,’ he continued, -speaking with the same abruptness, ‘for which you have doubtless -to thank some of those idle young rascals without. You had sent an -application to the king, I suppose? Just so. No doubt they got hold of -it, and this is the result. They ought to be whipped.’ - -It was not possible for me to doubt any longer that what he said was -true. I saw in a moment all my hopes vanish, all my plans flung to the -winds; and in the first shock of the discovery I could neither find -voice to answer him nor strength to withdraw. In a kind of vision I -seemed to see my own lean, haggard face looking at me as in a glass, -and, reading despair in my eyes, could have pitied myself. - -My disorder was so great that M. du Mornay observed it. Looking more -closely at me, he two or three times muttered my name, and at last said, -‘M. de Marsac? Ha! I remember. You were in the affair of Brouage, were -you not?’ - -I nodded my head in token of assent, being unable at the moment to -speak, and so shaken that perforce I leaned against the wall, my head -sunk on my breast. The memory of my age, my forty years, and my poverty, -pressed hard upon me, filling me with despair and bitterness. I could -have wept, but no tears came. - -M. du Mornay, averting his eyes from me, took two or three short, -impatient turns up and down the chamber when he addressed me again his -tone was full of respect, mingled with such petulance as one brave man -might feel, seeing another so hard pressed. ‘M. de Marsac,’ he said, -‘you have my sympathy. It is a shame that men who have served the -cause should be reduced to such straits. Were it, possible for me, to -increase my own train at present, I should consider it an honour to have -you with me. But I am hard put to it myself, and so are we all, and the -King of Navarre not least among us. He has lived for a month upon a wood -which M. de Rosny has cut down. I will mention your name to him, but I -should be cruel rather than kind were I not to warn you that nothing can -come of it.’ - -With that he offered me his hand, and, cheered as much by this mark -of consideration as by the kindness of his expressions, I rallied my -spirits. True, I wanted comfort more substantial, but it was not to be -had. I thanked him therefore as becomingly as I could, and seeing there -was no help for it, took my leave of him, and slowly and sorrowfully -withdrew from the room. - -Alas! to escape I had to face the outside world, for which his kind -words were an ill preparation. I had to run the gauntlet of the -antechamber. The moment I appeared, or rather the moment the door closed -behind me, I was hailed with a shout of derision. While one cried, -‘Way! way for the gentleman who has seen the king!’ another hailed me -uproariously as Governor of Guyenne, and a third requested a commission -in my regiment. - -I heard these taunts with a heart full almost to bursting. It seemed to -me an unworthy thing that, merely by reason of my poverty, I should be -derided by youths who had still all their battles before them; but to -stop or reproach them would only, as I well knew, make matters worse, -and, moreover, I was so sore stricken that I had little spirit left -even to speak. Accordingly, I made my way through them with what speed I -might, my head bent, and my countenance heavy with shame and depression. -In this way--I wonder there were not among them some generous enough -to pity me--I had nearly gained the door, and was beginning to breathe, -when I found my path stopped by that particular young lady of the Court -whom I have described above. Something had for the moment diverted her -attention from me, and it required a word from her companions to apprise -her of my near neighbourhood. She turned then, as one taken by surprise, -and finding me so close to her that my feet all but touched her gown, -she stepped quickly aside, and with a glance as cruel as her act, drew -her skirts away from contact with me. - -The insult stung me, I know not why, more than all the gibes which -were being flung at me from every side, and moved by a sudden impulse I -stopped, and in the bitterness of my heart spoke to her. ‘Mademoiselle,’ -I said, bowing low--for, as I have stated, she was small, and more -like a fairy than a woman, though her face expressed both pride and -self-will--‘Mademoiselle,’ I said sternly, ‘such as I am, I have fought -for France! Some day you may learn that there are viler things in the -world--and have to bear them--than a poor gentleman!’ - -The words were scarcely out of my mouth before I repented of them, for -Mathurine, the fool, who was at my elbow, was quick to turn them into -ridicule. Raising her hands above our heads, as in act to bless us, -she cried out that Monsieur, having gained so rich an office, desired -a bride to grace it; and this, bringing down upon us a coarse shout -of laughter and some coarser gibes, I saw the young girl’s face flush -hotly. - -The next moment a voice in the crowd cried roughly ‘Out upon his wedding -suit!’ and with that a sweetmeat struck me in the face. Another and -another followed, covering me with flour and comfits. This was the last -straw. For a moment, forgetting where I was, I turned upon them, red -and furious, every hair in my moustachios bristling. The next, the full -sense of my impotence and of the folly of resentment prevailed with me, -and, dropping my head upon my breast, I rushed from the room. - -I believe that the younger among them followed me, and that the cry of -‘Old Clothes!’ pursued me even to the door of my lodgings in the Rue de -la Coutellerie. But in the misery of the moment, and my strong desire -to be within doors and alone, I barely noticed this, and am not certain -whether it was so or not. - - - -CHAPTER II. THE KING OF NAVARRE. - -I have already referred to the danger with which the alliance between -Henry the Third and the League menaced us, an alliance whereof the news, -it was said, had blanched the King of Navarre’s moustache in a single -night. Notwithstanding this, the Court had never shown itself more -frolicsome or more free from care than at the time of which I am -speaking; even the lack of money seemed for the moment forgotten. One -amusement followed another, and though, without doubt, something was -doing under the surface for the wiser of his foes held our prince in -particular dread when he seemed most deeply sunk in pleasure--to the -outward eye St. Jean d’Angely appeared to be given over to enjoyment -from one end to the other. - -The stir and bustle of the Court reached me even in my garret, and -contributed to make that Christmas, which fell on a Sunday, a trial -almost beyond sufferance. All day long the rattle of hoofs on the -pavement, and the laughter of riders bent on diversion, came up to -me, making the hard stool seem harder, the bare walls more bare, and -increasing a hundredfold the solitary gloom in which I sat. For as -sunshine deepens the shadows which fall athwart it, and no silence is -like that which follows the explosion of a mine, so sadness and poverty -are never more intolerable than when hope and wealth rub elbows with -them. - -True, the great sermon which M. d’Amours preached in the market-house -on the morning of Christmas-day cheered me, as it cheered all the more -sober spirits. I was present myself, sitting in an obscure corner of -the building, and heard the famous prediction, which was so soon to be -fulfilled. ‘Sire,’ said the preacher, turning to the King of Navarre, -and referring, with the boldness that ever characterised that great -man and noble Christian, to the attempt, then being made to exclude the -prince from the succession--‘Sire, what God at your birth gave you man -cannot take away. A little while, a little patience, and you shall cause -us to preach beyond the Loire! With you for our Joshua we shall cross -the Jordan, and in the Promised Land the Church shall be set up.’ - -Words so brave, and so well adapted to encourage the Huguenots in -the crisis through which their affairs were then passing, charmed all -hearers; save indeed, those--and they were few--who, being devoted to -the Vicomte de Turenne, disliked, though they could not controvert, this -public acknowledgment of the King of Navarre, as the Huguenot leader. -The pleasure of those present was evinced in a hundred ways, and to such -an extent that even I returned to my chamber soothed and exalted, and -found, in dreaming of the speedy triumph of the cause, some compensation -for my own ill-fortune. - -As the day wore on, however, and the evening brought no change, but -presented to me the same dreary prospect with which morning had made -me familiar, I confess without shame that my heart sank once more, -particularly as I saw that I should be forced in a day or two to sell -either my remaining horse or some part of my equipment as essential; -a step which I could not contemplate without feelings of the utmost -despair. In this state of mind I was adding up by the light of a -solitary candle the few coins I had left, when I heard footsteps -ascending the stairs. I made them out to be the steps of two persons, -and was still lost in conjectures who they might be, when a hand knocked -gently at my door. - -Fearing another trick, I did not at once open, the more so there was -something stealthy and insinuating in the knock. Thereupon my visitors -held a whispered consultation; then they knocked again. I asked loudly -who was there, but to this they did not choose to give any answer, -while I, on my part, determined not to open until they did. The door -was strong, and I smiled grimly at the thought that this time they would -have their trouble for their pains. - -To my surprise, however, they did not desist, and go away, as I -expected, but continued to knock at intervals and whisper much between -times. More than once they called me softly by name and bade me open, -but as they steadily refrained from saying who they were, I sat still. -Occasionally I heard them laugh, but under their breath as it were; -and persuaded by this that they were bent on a frolic, I might have -persisted in my silence until midnight, which was not more than two -hours off, had not a slight sound, as of a rat gnawing behind the -wainscot, drawn my attention to the door. Raising my candle and shading -my eyes I espied something small and bright protruding beneath it, and -sprang up, thinking they were about to prise it in. To my surprise, -however, I could discover, on taking the candle to the threshold, -nothing more threatening than a couple of gold livres, which had been -thrust through the crevice between the door and the floor. - -My astonishment may be conceived. I stood for full a minute staring at -the coins, the candle in my hand. Then, reflecting that the young sparks -at the Court would be very unlikely to spend such a sum on a jest, I -hesitated no longer, but putting down the candle, drew the bolt of the -door, purposing to confer with my visitors outside. In this, however, I -was disappointed, for the moment the door was open they pushed forcibly -past me and, entering the room pell-mell, bade me by signs to close the -door again. - -I did so suspiciously, and without averting my eyes from my visitors. -Great were my embarrassment and confusion, therefore, when, the door -being shut, they dropped their cloaks one after the other, and I saw -before me M. du Mornay and the well-known figure of the King of Navarre. - -They seemed so much diverted, looking at one another and laughing, that -for a moment I thought some chance resemblance deceived me, and that -here were my jokers again. Hence while a man might count ten I stood -staring; and the king was the first to speak. ‘We have made no mistake, -Du Mornay, have we?’ he said, casting a laughing glance at me. - -‘No, sire,’ Du Mornay answered. ‘This is the Sieur de Marsac, the -gentleman whom I mentioned to you.’ - -I hastened, confused, wondering, and with a hundred apologies, to pay my -respects to the king. He speedily cut me short, however, saying, with an -air of much kindness, ‘Of Marsac, in Brittany, I think, sir?’ - -‘The same, sire,’ - -‘Then you are of the family of Bonne?’ - -‘I am the last survivor of that family, sire,’ I answered respectfully. - -‘It has played its part,’ he rejoined, and therewith he took his seat -on my stool with an easy grace which charmed me. ‘Your motto is “BONNE -FOI,” is it not? And Marsac, if I remember rightly, is not far from -Rennes, on the Vilaine?’ - -I answered that it was, adding, with a full heart, that it grieved me to -be compelled to receive so great a prince in so poor a lodging. - -‘Well, I confess,’ Du Mornay struck in, looking carelessly round him, -‘you have a queer taste, M. de Marsac, in the arrangement of your -furniture. You--’ - -‘Mornay!’ the king cried sharply. - -‘Sire?’ - -‘Chut! your elbow is in the candle. Beware of it!’ - -But I well understood him. If my heart had been full before, it -overflowed now. Poverty is not so shameful as the shifts to which it -drives men. I had been compelled some days before, in order to make as -good a show as possible--since it is the undoubted duty of a gentleman -to hide his nakedness from impertinent eyes, and especially from the -eyes of the canaille, who are wont to judge from externals--to remove -such of my furniture and equipage as remained to that side of the room, -which was visible from without when the door was open. This left the -farther side of the room vacant and bare. To anyone within doors the -artifice was, of course, apparent, and I am bound to say that M. de -Mornay’s words brought the blood to my brow. - -I rejoiced, however a moment later that he had uttered them; for without -them I might never have known, or known so early, the kindness of heart -and singular quickness of apprehension which ever distinguished the -king, my master. So, in my heart, I began to call him from that hour. - -The King of Navarre was at this time thirty-five years old, his hair -brown, his complexion ruddy, his moustache, on one side at least, -beginning to turn grey. His features, which Nature had cast in a harsh -and imperious mould, were relieved by a constant sparkle and animation -such as I have never seen in any other man, but in him became ever more -conspicuous in gloomy and perilous times. Inured to danger from his -earliest youth, he had come to enjoy it as others a festival, hailing -its advent with a reckless gaiety which astonished even brave men, and -led others to think him the least prudent of mankind. Yet such he was -not: nay, he was the opposite of this. Never did Marshal of France -make more careful dispositions for a battle--albeit once in it he bore -himself like any captain of horse--nor ever did Du Mornay himself sit -down to a conference with a more accurate knowledge of affairs. His -prodigious wit and the affability of his manners, while they endeared -him to his servants, again and again blinded his adversaries; who, -thinking that so much brilliance could arise only from a shallow nature, -found when it was too late that they had been outwitted by him whom -they contemptuously styled the Prince of Bearn, a man a hundredfold more -astute than themselves, and master alike of pen and sword. - -Much of this, which all the world now knows, I learned afterwards. At -the moment I could think of little save the king’s kindness; to which -he added by insisting that I should sit on the bed while we talked. ‘You -wonder, M. de Marsac,’ he said, ‘what brings me here, and why I have -come to you instead of sending for you? Still more, perhaps, why I have -come to you at night and with such precautions? I will tell you. But -first, that my coming may not fill you with false hopes, let me say -frankly, that though I may relieve your present necessities, whether you -fall into the plan I am going to mention, or not, I cannot take you -into my service; wherein, indeed, every post is doubly filled. Du Mornay -mentioned your name to me, but in fairness to others I had to answer -that I could do nothing.’ - -I am bound to confess that this strange exordium dashed hopes which had -already risen to a high pitch. Recovering myself as quickly as possible, -however, I murmured that the honour of a visit from the King of Navarre -was sufficient happiness for me. - -‘Nay, but that honour I must take from you’ he replied, smiling; ‘though -I see that you would make an excellent courtier--far better than Du -Mornay here, who never in his life made so pretty a speech. For I must -lay my commands on you to keep this visit a secret, M. de Marsac. Should -but the slightest whisper of it get abroad, your usefulness, as far as I -am concerned, would be gone, and gone for good!’ - -So remarkable a statement filled me with wonder I could scarcely -disguise. It was with difficulty I found words to assure the king that -his commands should be faithfully obeyed. - -‘Of that I am sure,’ he answered with the utmost kindness. ‘Where I not, -and sure, too, from what I am told of your gallantry when my cousin took -Brouage, that you are a man of deeds rather than words, I should not be -here with the proposition I am going to lay before you. It is this. I -can give you no hope of public employment, M. de Marsac, but I can offer -you an adventure if adventures be to your taste--as dangerous and as -thankless as any Amadis ever undertook.’ - -‘As thankless, sire?’ I stammered, doubting if I had heard aright, the -expression was so strange. - -‘As thankless,’ he answered, his keen eyes seeming to read my soul. -‘I am frank with you, you see, sir,’ he continued, carelessly. ‘I can -suggest this adventure--it is for the good of the State--I can do no -more. The King of Navarre cannot appear in it, nor can he protect you. -Succeed or fail in it, you stead alone. The only promise I make is, -that if it ever be safe for me to acknowledge the act, I will reward the -doer.’ - -He paused, and for a few moments I stared at him in sheer amazement. -What did he mean? Were he and the other real figures, or was I dreaming? - -‘Do you understand?’ he asked at length, with a touch of impatience. - -‘Yes, sire, I think I do,’ I murmured, very certain in truth and reality -that I did not. - -‘What do you say, then--yes or no?’ he rejoined. ‘Will you undertake the -adventure, or would you hear more before you make up your mind?’ - -I hesitated. Had I been a younger man by ten years I should doubtless -have cried assent there and then, having been all my life ready enough -to embark on such enterprises as offered a chance of distinction. But -something in the strangeness of the king’s preface, although I had it in -my heart to die for him, gave me check, and I answered, with an air of -great humility, ‘You will think me but a poor courtier now, sire, yet -he is a fool who jumps into a ditch without measuring the depth. I would -fain, if I may say it without disrespect, hear all that you can tell -me.’ - -‘Then I fear,’ he answered quickly, ‘if you would have more light on the -matter, my friend, you must get another candle.’ - -I started, he spoke so abruptly; but perceiving that the candle had -indeed burned down to the socket, I rose, with many apologies, and -fetched another from the cupboard. It did not occur to me at the moment, -though it did later, that the king had purposely sought this opportunity -of consulting with his companion. I merely remarked, when I returned to -my place on the bed, that they were sitting a little nearer one another, -and that the king eyed me before he spoke--though he still swung one -foot carelessly in the air with close attention. - -‘I speak to you, of course, sir,’ he presently went on, ‘in confidence, -believing you to be an honourable as well as a brave man. That which I -wish you to do is briefly, and in a word, to carry off a lady. Nay,’ -he added quickly, with a laughing grimace, ‘have no fear! She is no -sweetheart of mine, nor should I go to my grave friend here did I need -assistance of that kind. Henry of Bourbon, I pray God, will always be -able to free his own lady-love. This is a State affair, and a matter of -quite another character, though we cannot at present entrust you with -the meaning of it.’ - -I bowed in silence, feeling somewhat chilled and perplexed, as who would -not, having such an invitation before him? I had anticipated an affair -with men only--a secret assault or a petard expedition. But seeing the -bareness of my room, and the honour the king was doing me, I felt I had -no choice, and I answered, ‘That being the case, sire, I am wholly at -your service.’ - -‘That is well,’ he, answered briskly, though methought he looked at Du -Mornay reproachfully, as doubting his commendation of me. ‘But will -you say the same,’ he continued, removing his eyes to me, and speaking -slowly, as though he would try me, ‘when I tell you that the lady to -be carried off is the ward of the Vicomte de Turenne, whose arm is -well-nigh as long as my own, and who would fain make it longer; who -never travels, as he told me yesterday, with less than fifty gentlemen, -and has a thousand arquebusiers in his pay? Is the adventure still to -your liking, M. de Marsac, now that you know that?’ - -‘It is more to my liking, sire,’ I answered stoutly. - -‘Understand this too,’ he rejoined. ‘It is essential that this lady, -who is at present confined in the Vicomte’s house at Chize, should be -released; but it is equally essential that there should be no breach -between the Vicomte and myself. Therefore the affair must be the work -of an independent man, who has never been in my service, nor in any way -connected with me. If captured, you pay the penalty without recourse to -me.’ - -‘I fully understand, sire,’ I answered. - -‘Ventre Saint Gris!’ he cried, breaking into a low laugh. I swear the -man is more afraid of the lady than he is of the Vicomte! That is not -the way of most of our Court.’ - -Du Mornay, who had been sitting nursing his knee in silence, pursed up -his lips, though it was easy to see that he was well content with the -king’s approbation. He now intervened. ‘With your permission, sire,’ he -said, ‘I will let this gentleman know the details.’ - -‘Do, my friend,’ the king answered. ‘And be short, for if we are here -much longer I shall be missed, and in a twinkling the Court will have -found me a new mistress.’ - -He spoke in jest and with a laugh, but I saw Du Mornay start at -the words, as though they were little to his liking; and I learned -afterwards that the Court was really much exercised at this time with -the question who would be the next favourite, the king’s passion for -the Countess de la Guiche being evidently on the wane, and that which -he presently evinced for Madame de Guercheville being as yet a matter of -conjecture. - -Du Mornay took no overt notice of the king’s words, however, but -proceeded to give me my directions. ‘Chize, which you know by name,’ he -said, ‘is six leagues from here. Mademoiselle de la Vire is confined in -the north-west room, on the first-floor, overlooking the park. More I -cannot tell you, except that her woman’s name is Fanchette, and that she -is to be trusted. The house is well guarded, and you will need four or -five men, There are plenty of cut-throats to be hired, only see, M. -de Marsac, that they are such as you can manage, and that Mademoiselle -takes no hurt among them. Have horses in waiting, and the moment; you -have released the lady ride north with her as fast as her strength will -permit. Indeed, you must not spare her, if Turenne be on your heels. You -should be across the Loire in sixty hours after leaving Chize.’ - -‘Across the Loire?’ I exclaimed in astonishment. - -‘Yes, sir, across the Loire,’ he replied, with some sternness. ‘Your -task, be good enough to understand, is to convoy Mademoiselle de la Vire -with all speed to Blois. There, attracting as little notice as may be, -you will inquire for the Baron de Rosny at the Bleeding Heart, in the -Rue de St. Denys. He will take charge of the lady, or direct you how to -dispose of her, and your task will then be accomplished. You follow me?’ - -‘Perfectly,’ I answered, speaking in my turn with some dryness. ‘But -Mademoiselle I understand is young. What if she will not accompany me, a -stranger, entering her room at night, and by the window?’ - -‘That has been thought of’ was the answer. He turned to the King of -Navarre, who, after a moment’s search, produced a small object from his -pouch. This he gave to his companion, and the latter transferred it to -me. I took it with curiosity. It was the half of a gold carolus, -the broken edge of the coin being rough and jagged. ‘Show that to -Mademoiselle, my friend,’ Du Mornay continued, ‘and she will accompany -you. She has the other half.’ - -‘But be careful,’ Henry added eagerly, ‘to make no mention, even to her, -of the King of Navarre. You mark me, M. de Marsac! If you have at any -time occasion to speak of me, you may have the honour of calling me YOUR -FRIEND, and referring to me always in the same manner.’ - -This he said with so gracious an air that I was charmed, and thought -myself happy indeed to be addressed in this wise by a prince whose name -was already so glorious. Nor was my satisfaction diminished when his -companion drew out a bag containing, as he told me, three hundred crowns -in gold, and placed it in my hands, bidding me defray therefrom the cost -of the journey. ‘Be careful, however,’ he added earnestly, ‘to avoid, in -hiring your men, any appearance of wealth, lest the adventure seem to -be suggested by some outside person; instead of being dictated by the -desperate state of your own fortunes. Promise rather than give, so far -as that will avail. And for what you must give, let each livre seem to -be the last in your pouch.’ - -Henry nodded assent. ‘Excellent advice!’ he muttered, rising and -drawing on his cloak, ‘such as you ever give me, Mornay, and I as seldom -take--more’s the pity! But, after all, of little avail without this.’ He -lifted my sword from the table as he spoke, and weighed it in his hand. -‘A pretty tool,’ he continued, turning suddenly and looking me very -closely in the face. ‘A very pretty tool. Were I in your place, M. de -Marsac, I would see that it hung loose in the scabbard. Ay, and more, -man, use it!’ he added, sinking his voice and sticking out his chin, -while his grey eyes, looking ever closer into mine, seemed to grow cold -and hard as steel. ‘Use it to the last, for if you fall into Turenne’s -hands, God help you! I cannot!’ - -‘If I am taken, sire,’ I answered, trembling, but not with fear, ‘my -fate be on my own head.’ - -I saw the king’s eyes soften, at that, and his face change so swiftly -that I scarce knew him for the same man. He let the weapon drop with -a clash on the table. ‘Ventre Saint Gris!’ he exclaimed with a strange -thrill of yearning in his tone. ‘I swear by God, I would I were in your -shoes, sir. To strike a blow or two with no care what came of it. To -take the road with a good horse and a good sword, and see what fortune -would send. To be rid of all this statecraft and protocolling, and never -to issue another declaration in this world, but just to be for once a -Gentleman of France, with all to win and nothing to lose save the love -of my lady! Ah! Mornay, would it not be sweet to leave all this fret and -fume, and ride away to the green woods by Coarraze?’ - -‘Certainly, if you prefer them to the Louvre, sire,’ Du Mornay answered -drily; while I stood, silent and amazed, before this strange man, who -could so suddenly change from grave to gay, and one moment spoke so -sagely, and the next like any wild lad in his teens. ‘Certainly,’ he -answered, ‘if that be your choice, sire; and if you think that even -there the Duke of Guise will leave you in peace. Turenne, I am sure, -will be glad to hear of your decision. Doubtless he will be elected -Protector of the Churches. Nay, sire, for shame!’ Du Mornay continued -almost with sternness. ‘Would you leave France, which at odd times I -have heard you say you loved, to shift for herself? Would you deprive -her of the only man who does love her for her own sake?’ - -‘Well, well, but she is such a fickle sweetheart, my friend,’ the king -answered, laughing, the side glance of his eye on me. ‘Never was one so -coy or so hard to clip! And, besides, has not the Pope divorced us?’ - -‘The Pope! A fig for the Pope!’ Du Mornay rejoined with impatient heat. -‘What has he to do with France? An impertinent meddler, and an Italian -to boot! I would he and all the brood of them were sunk a hundred -fathoms deep in the sea. But, meantime, I would send him a text to -digest.’ - -‘EXEMPLUM?’ said the king. - -‘Whom God has joined together let no man put asunder.’ - -‘Amen! quoth Henry softly. ‘And France is a fair and comely bride.’ - -After that he kept such a silence, falling as it seemed to me into a -brown study, that he went away without so much as bidding me farewell, -or being conscious, as far as I could tell, of my presence. Du Mornay -exchanged a few words with me, to assure himself that I understood what -I had to do, and then, with many kind expressions, which I did not fail -to treasure up and con over in the times that were coming, hastened -downstairs after his master. - -My joy when I found myself alone may be conceived. Yet was it no -ecstasy, but a sober exhilaration; such as stirred my pulses indeed, and -bade me once more face the world with a firm eye and an assured brow, -but was far from holding out before me a troubadour’s palace or any -dazzling prospect. The longer I dwelt on the interview, the more clearly -I saw the truth. As the glamour which Henry’s presence and singular -kindness had cast over me began to lose some of its power, I recognised -more and more surely why he had come to me. It was not out of any -special favour for one whom he knew by report only, if at all by -name; but because he had need of a man poor, and therefore reckless, -middle-aged (of which comes discretion), obscure--therefore a safe -instrument; to crown all, a gentleman, seeing that both a secret and a -women were in question. - -Withal I wondered too. Looking from the bag of money on the table to -the broken coin in my hand, I scarcely knew which to admire more: the -confidence which entrusted the one to a man broken and beggared, or the -courage of the gentlewoman who should accompany me on the faith of the -other. - - - -CHAPTER III. BOOT AND SADDLE. - -As was natural, I meditated deeply and far into the night on the -difficulties of the task, entrusted to me. I saw that it fell into -two parts: the release of the lady, and her safe conduct to Blois, a -distance of sixty leagues. The release I thought it probable I could -effect single-handed, or with one companion only; but in the troubled -condition of the country at this time, more particularly on both sides -of the Loire, I scarcely saw how I could ensure a lady’s safety on the -road northwards unless I had with me at least five swords. - -To get these together at a few hours’ notice promised to be no easy -task; although the presence of the Court of Navarre had filled St. Jean -with a crowd of adventurers. Yet the king’s command was urgent, and -at some sacrifice, even at some risk, must be obeyed. Pressed by these -considerations, I could think of no better man to begin with than -Fresnoy. - -His character was bad, and he had long forfeited such claim as he had -ever possessed--I believe it was a misty one, on the distaff side--to -gentility. But the same cause which had rendered me destitute I mean -the death of the prince of Conde--had stripped him to the last rag; and -this, perhaps, inclining me to serve him, I was the more quick to see -his merits. I knew him already for a hardy, reckless man, very capable -of striking a shrewd blow. I gave him credit for being trusty, as long -as his duty jumped with his interest. - -Accordingly, as soon as it was light, having fed and groomed the Cid, -which was always the first employment of my day, I set out in search of -Fresnoy, and was presently lucky enough to find him taking his morning -draught outside the ‘Three Pigeons,’ a little inn not far from the north -gate. It was more than a fortnight since I had set eyes on him, and the -lapse of time had worked so great a change for the worse in him that, -forgetting my own shabbiness, I looked at him askance, as doubting the -wisdom of enlisting one who bore so plainly the marks of poverty and -dissipation. His great face--he was a large man--had suffered recent -ill-usage, and was swollen and discoloured, one eye being as good as -closed. He was unshaven, his hair was ill-kempt, his doublet unfastened -at the throat, and torn and stained besides. Despite the cold--for the -morning was sharp and frosty, though free from wind--there were half a -dozen packmen drinking and squabbling before the inn, while the beasts -they drove quenched their thirst at the trough. But these men seemed -with one accord to leave him in possession of the bench at which he sat; -nor did I wonder much at this when I saw the morose and savage -glance which he shot at me as I approached. Whether he read my first -impressions in my face, or for some other reason felt distaste for my -company, I could not determine. But, undeterred by his behaviour, I sat -down beside him and called for wine. - -He nodded sulkily in answer to my greeting, and cast a half-shamed, -half-angry look at me out of the corners of his eyes. ‘You need not look -at me as though I were a dog,’ he muttered presently. ‘You are not so -very spruce yourself, my friend. But I suppose you have grown proud -since you got that fat appointment at Court!’ And he laughed out loud, -so that I confess I was in two minds whether I should not force the jest -down his ugly throat. - -However I restrained myself, though my cheeks burned. ‘You have heard -about it, then,’ I said, striving to speak indifferently. - -‘Who has not?’ he said, laughing with his lips, though his eyes were far -from merry. ‘The Sieur de Marsac’s appointment! Ha! ha! Why, man--’ - -‘Enough of it now!’ I exclaimed. And I dare say I writhed on my seat. -‘As far as I am concerned the jest is a stale one, sir, and does not -amuse me.’ - -‘But it amuses me,’ he rejoined with a grin. - -‘Let it be, nevertheless,’ I said; and I think he read a warning in my -eyes. ‘I have come to speak to you upon another matter.’ - -He did not refuse to listen, but threw one leg over the other, and -looking up at the inn-sign began to whistle in a rude, offensive manner. -Still, having an object in view, I controlled myself and continued. ‘It -is this, my friend: money is not very plentiful at present with either -of us.’ - -Before I could say any more he turned on me savagely, and with a loud -oath thrust his bloated face, flushed with passion, close to mine. ‘Now -look here, M. de Marsac!’ he cried violently, ‘once for all, it is no -good! I have not got the money, and I cannot pay it. I said a fortnight -ago, when you lent it, that you should have it this week. Well,’ -slapping his hand on the bench, I have not got it, and it is no good -beginning upon me. You cannot have it, and that is flat!’ - -‘Damn the money!’ I cried. - -‘What?’ he exclaimed, scarcely believing his ears. - -‘Let the money be!’ I repeated fiercely. ‘Do you hear? I have not come -about it, I am here to offer you work--good, well-paid work--if you will -enlist with me and play me fair, Fresnoy.’ - -‘Play fair!’ he cried with an oath. - -‘There, there,’ I said, ‘I am willing to let bygones be bygones if you -are. The point is, that I have an adventure on hand, and, wanting help, -can pay you for it.’ - -He looked at me cunningly, His eye travelling over each rent and darn -in my doublet. ‘I will help you fast enough,’ he said at last. ‘But I -should like to see the money first.’ - -‘You shall,’ I answered. - -‘Then I am with you, my friend. Count on me till death!’ he cried, -rising and laying his hand in mine with a boisterous frankness which did -not deceive me into trusting him far. ‘And now, whose is the affair, and -what is it?’ - -‘The affair is mine,’ I said coldly. ‘It is to carry off a lady.’ - -He whistled and looked me over again, an impudent leer in his eyes. ‘A -lady?’ he exclaimed. ‘Umph! I could understand a young spark going in -for such--but that’s your affair. Who is it?’ - -‘That is my affair, too,’ I answered coolly, disgusted by the man’s -venality and meanness, and fully persuaded that I must trust him no -farther than the length of my sword. ‘All I want you to do, M. Fresnoy,’ -I continued stiffly, ‘is to place yourself at my disposal and under my -orders for ten days. I will find you a horse and pay you--the enterprise -is a hazardous one, and I take that into account--two gold crowns a day, -and ten more if we succeed in reaching a place of safety.’ - -‘Such a place as--’ - -‘Never mind that,’ I replied. ‘The question is, do you accept?’ - -He looked down sullenly, and I could see he was greatly angered by my -determination to keep the matter to myself. ‘Am I to know no more than -that?’ he asked, digging the point of his scabbard again and again into -the ground. - -‘No more,’ I answered firmly. ‘I am bent on a desperate attempt to mend -my fortunes before they fall as low as yours; and that is as much as -I mean to tell living man. If you are loth to risk your life with your -eyes shut, say so, and I will go to someone else.’ - -But he was not in a position, as I well knew, to refuse such an offer, -and presently he accepted it with a fresh semblance of heartiness. I -told him I should want four troopers to escort us, and these he offered -to procure, saying that he knew just the knaves to suit me. I bade him -hire two only, however, being too wise, to put myself altogether in his -hands; and then, having given him money to buy himself a horse--I made -it a term that the men should bring their own--and named a rendezvous -for the first hour after noon, I parted from him and went rather sadly -away. - -For I began to see that the king had not underrated the dangers of an -enterprise on which none but desperate men and such as were down in the -world could be expected to embark. Seeing this, and also a thing which -followed clearly from it--that I should have as much to fear from my -own company as from the enemy--I looked forward with little hope to a -journey during every day and every hour of which I must bear a growing -weight of fear and responsibility. - -It was too late to turn back, however, and I went about my preparations, -if with little cheerfulness, at least with steadfast purpose. I had -my sword ground and my pistols put in order by the cutler over whom I -lodged, and who performed this last office for me with the same goodwill -which had characterised, all his dealings with me. I sought out and -hired a couple of stout fellows whom I believed to be indifferently -honest, but who possessed the advantage of having horses; and besides -bought two led horses myself for mademoiselle and her woman. Such other -equipments as were absolutely necessary I purchased, reducing my stock -of money in this way to two hundred and ten crowns. How to dispose of -this sum so that it might be safe and yet at my command was a question -which greatly exercised me. In the end I had recourse to my friend -the cutler, who suggested hiding a hundred crowns of it in my cap, and -deftly contrived a place for the purpose. This, the cap being lined with -steel, was a matter of no great difficulty. A second hundred I sewed -up in the stuffing of my saddle, placing the remainder in my pouch for -present necessities. - -A small rain was falling in the streets when, a little after noon, I -started with my two knaves behind me and made for the north gate. So -many were moving this way and the other that we passed unnoticed, and -might have done so had we numbered six swords instead of three. When we -reached the rendezvous, a mile beyond the gate, we found Fresnoy already -there, taking shelter in the lee of a big holly-tree. He had four -horsemen with him, and on our appearance rode forward to meet us, crying -heartily, ‘Welcome, M. le Capitaine!’ - -‘Welcome, certainly,’ I answered, pulling the Cid up sharply, and -holding off from him. ‘But who are these, M. Fresnoy?’ and I pointed -with my riding-cane to his four companions. - -He tried to pass the matter off with a laugh. ‘Oh! these?’ he said. -‘That is soon explained. The Evangelists would not be divided, so I -brought them all--Matthew Mark, Luke, and John--thinking it likely -you might fail to secure your men. And I will warrant them for four as -gallant boys as you will ever find behind you!’ - -They were certainly four as arrant ruffians as I had ever seen before -me, and I saw I must not hesitate. ‘Two or none, M. Fresnoy,’ I said -firmly. ‘I gave you a commission for two, and two I will take--Matthew -and Mark, or Luke and John, as you please.’ - -‘’Tis a pity to break the party,’ said he, scowling. - -‘If that be all,’ I retorted, ‘one of my men is called John. And we will -dub the other Luke, if that will mend the matter.’ - -‘The Prince of Conde,’ he muttered sullenly, ‘employed these men.’ - -‘The Prince of Conde employed some queer people sometimes, M. Fresnoy,’ -I answered, looking him straight between the eyes, ‘as we all must. A -truce to this, if you please. We will take Matthew and Mark. The other -two be good enough to dismiss.’ - -He seemed to waver for a moment, as if he had a mind to disobey, but -in the end, thinking better of it, he bade the men return; and as I -complimented each of them with a piece of silver, they went off, after -some swearing, in tolerably good humour. Thereon Fresnoy was for taking -the road at once, but having no mind to be followed, I gave the word to -wait until the two were out of sight. - -I think, as we sat our horses in the rain, the holly-bush not being -large enough to shelter us all, we were as sorry a band as ever set out -to rescue a lady; nor was it without pain that I looked round and saw -myself reduced to command such people. There was scarcely one whole -unpatched garment among us, and three of my squires had but a spur -apiece. To make up for this deficiency we mustered two black eyes, -Fresnoy’s included, and a broken nose. Matthew’s nag lacked a tail, -and, more remarkable still, its rider, as I presently discovered, was -stone-deaf; while Mark’s sword was innocent of a scabbard, and his -bridle was plain rope. One thing, indeed, I observed with pleasure. The -two men who had come with me looked askance at the two who had come with -Fresnoy, and these returned the stare with interest. On this division -and on the length of my sword I based all my hopes of safety and of -something more. On it I was about to stake, not my own life only--which -was no great thing, seeing what my prospects were--but the life and -honour of a woman, young, helpless, and as yet unknown to me. - -Weighed down as I was by these considerations, I had to bear the -additional burden of hiding my fears and suspicions under a cheerful -demeanour. I made a short speech to my following, who one and all -responded by swearing to stand by me to the death. I then gave the word, -and we started, Fresnoy and I leading the way, Luke and John with the -led horses following, and the other two bringing up the rear. - -The rain continuing to fall and the country in this part being dreary -and monotonous, even in fair weather, I felt my spirits sink still lower -as the day advanced. The responsibility I was going to incur assumed -more serious proportions each time I scanned my following; while -Fresnoy, plying me with perpetual questions respecting my plans, was as -uneasy a companion as my worst enemy could have wished me. - -‘Come!’ he grumbled presently, when we had covered four leagues or -so, ‘you have not told me yet, sieur, where we stay to-night. You are -travelling so slowly that--’ - -‘I am saving the horses,’ I answered shortly. ‘We shall do a long day -to-morrow.’ - -‘Yours looks fit for a week of days,’ he sneered, with an evil look at -my Sardinian, which was, indeed, in better case than its master. ‘It is -sleek enough, any way!’ - -‘It is as good as it looks,’ I answered, a little nettled by his tone. - -‘There is a better here,’ he responded. - -‘I don’t see it,’ I said. I had already eyed the nags all round, and -assured myself that, ugly and blemished as they were, they were up to -their work. But I had discerned no special merit among them. I looked -them over again now, and came to the same conclusion--that, except the -led horses, which I had chosen with some care, there was nothing among -them to vie with the Cid, either in speed or looks. I told Fresnoy so. - -‘Would you like to try?’ he said tauntingly. - -I laughed, adding, ‘If you think I am going to tire our horses by racing -them, with such work as we have before us, you are mistaken, Fresnoy. I -am not a boy, you know.’ - -‘There need be no question of racing,’ he answered more quietly. ‘You -have only to get on that rat-tailed bay of Matthew’s to feel its paces -and say I am right.’ - -I looked at the bay, a bald-faced, fiddle-headed horse, and saw that, -with no signs of breeding, it was still a big-boned animal with good -shoulders and powerful hips. I thought it possible Fresnoy might be -right, and if so, and the bay’s manners were tolerable, it might do for -mademoiselle better than the horse I had chosen. At any rate, if we had -a fast horse among us, it was well to know the fact, so bidding Matthew -change with me, and be careful of the Cid, I mounted the bay, and -soon discovered that its paces were easy and promised speed, while its -manners seemed as good as even a timid rider could desire. - -Our road at the time lay across a flat desolate heath, dotted here and -there with, thorn-bushes; the track being broken and stony, extended -more than a score of yards in width, through travellers straying to this -side and that to escape the worst places. Fresnoy and I, in making the -change, had fallen slightly behind the other three, and were riding -abreast of Matthew on the Cid. - -‘Well,’ he said, ‘was I not right?’ - -‘In part,’ I answered. ‘The horse is better than its looks.’ - -‘Like many others,’ he rejoined, a spark of resentment in his tone--‘men -as well as horses, M. de Marsac. But What do you say? Shall we canter on -a little and overtake the others?’ - -Thinking it well to do so, I assented readily, and we started together. -We had ridden, however, no more than a hundred yards, and I was only -beginning to extend the bay, when Fresnoy, slightly drawing rein, turned -in his saddle and looked back. The next moment he cried, ‘Hallo! what is -this? Those fellows are not following us, are they?’ - -I turned sharply to look. At that moment, without falter or warning, the -bay horse went down under me as if shot dead, throwing me half a dozen -yards over its head; and that so suddenly that I had no time to raise my -arms, but, falling heavily on my head and shoulder, lost consciousness. - -I have had many falls, but no other to vie with that in utter -unexpectedness. When I recovered my senses I found myself leaning, giddy -and sick, against the bole of an old thorn-tree. Fresnoy and Matthew -supported me on either side, and asked me how I found myself; while the -other three men, their forms black against the stormy evening sky, sat -their horses a few paces in front of me. I was too much dazed at first -to see more, and this only in a mechanical fashion; but gradually, my -brain grew clearer, and I advanced from wondering who the strangers -round me were to recognising them, and finally to remembering what had -happened to me. - -‘Is the horse hurt?’ I muttered as soon as I could speak. - -‘Not a whit,’ Fresnoy answered, chuckling, or I was much mistaken. ‘I am -afraid you came off the worse of the two, captain.’ - -He exchanged a look with the men on horseback as he spoke, and in a dull -fashion I fancied I saw them smile. One even laughed, and another turned -in his saddle as if to hide his face. I had a vague general sense that -there was some joke on foot in which I had no part. But I was too much -shaken at the moment to be curious, and gratefully accepted the offer of -one, of the men to fetch me a little water. While he was away the rest -stood round me, the same look of ill-concealed drollery on their faces. -Fresnoy alone talked, speaking volubly of the accident, pouring out -expressions of sympathy and cursing the road, the horse, and the wintry -light until the water came; when, much refreshed by the draught, I -managed to climb to the Cid’s saddle and plod slowly onwards with them. - -‘A bad beginning,’ Fresnoy said presently, stealing a sly glance at -me as we jogged along side by side, Chize half a league before us, and -darkness not far off. - -By this time, however, I was myself again, save for a little humming is -the head, and, shrugging my shoulders, I told him so. ‘All’s well that -ends well,’ I added. ‘Not that it was a pleasant fall, or that I wish to -have such another.’ - -‘No, I should think not,’ he answered. His face was turned from me, but -I fancied I heard him snigger. - -Something, which may have been a vague suspicion, led me a moment later -to put my hand into my pouch. Then I understood. I understood too well. -The sharp surprise of the discovery was such that involuntarily I drove -my spurs into the Cid, and the horse sprang forward. - -‘What is the matter?’ Fresnoy asked. - -‘The matter?’ I echoed, my hand still at my belt, feeling--feeling -hopelessly. - -‘Yes, what is it?’ he asked, a brazen smile on his rascally face. - -I looked at him, my brow as red as fire. ‘Oh! nothing--nothing,’ I said. -‘Let us trot on.’ - -In truth I had discovered that, taking advantage of my helplessness, the -scoundrels had robbed me, while I lay insensible, of every gold crown -in my purse! Nor was this all, or the worst, for I saw at once that -in doing so they had effected something which was a thousandfold more -ominous and formidable--established against me that secret understanding -which it was my especial aim to prevent, and on the absence of which I -had been counting. Nay, I saw that for my very life I had only my friend -the cutler and my own prudence to thank, seeing that these rogues would -certainly have murdered me without scruple had they succeeded in finding -the bulk of my money. Baffled in this, while still persuaded that I had -other resources, they had stopped short of that villany--or this memoir -had never been written. They had kindly permitted me to live until a -more favourable opportunity of enriching themselves at my expense should -put them in possession of my last crown! - -Though I was sufficiently master of myself to refrain from complaints -which I felt must be useless, and from menaces which it has never -been my habit to utter unless I had also the power to put them into -execution, it must not be imagined that I did not, as I rode on by -Fresnoy’s side, feel my position acutely or see how absurd a figure -I cut in my dual character of leader and dupe. Indeed, the reflection -that, being in this perilous position, I was about to stake another’s -safety as well as my own, made me feel the need of a few minutes’ -thought so urgent that I determined to gain them, even at the risk -of leaving my men at liberty to plot further mischief. Coming almost -immediately afterwards within sight, of the turrets of the Chateau of -Chize, I told Fresnoy that we should lie the night at the village; -and bade him take the men on and secure quarters at the inn. Attacked -instantly by suspicion and curiosity, he demurred stoutly to leaving me, -and might have persisted in his refusal had I not pulled up, and clearly -shown him that I would have my own way in this case or come to an open -breach. He shrank, as I expected, from the latter alternative, and, -bidding me a sullen adieu, trotted on with his troop. I waited until -they were out of sight, and then, turning the Cid’s head, crossed a -small brook which divided the road from the chase, and choosing a -ride which seemed to pierce the wood in the direction of the Chateau, -proceeded down it, keeping a sharp look-out on either hand. - -It was then, my thoughts turning to the lady who was now so near, and -who, noble, rich, and a stranger, seemed, as I approached her, not the -least formidable of the embarrassments before me--it was then that I -made a discovery which sent a cold shiver through my frame, and in -a moment swept all memory of my paltry ten crowns from my head. -Ten crowns! Alas! I had lost that which was worth all my crowns put -together--the broken coin which the King of Navarre had entrusted to -me, and which formed my sole credential, my only means of persuading -Mademoiselle de la Vire that I came from him. I had put it in my pouch, -and of course, though the loss of it only came home to my mind now, it -had disappeared with the rest. - -I drew rein and sat for some time motionless, the image of despair. -The wind which stirred the naked boughs overhead, and whirled the -dead leaves in volleys past my feet, and died away at last among the -whispering bracken, met nowhere with wretchedness greater, I believe, -than was mine at that moment. - - - -CHAPTER IV. MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE. - -My first desperate impulse on discovering the magnitude of my loss was -to ride after the knaves and demand the token at the sword’s point. The -certainty, however, of finding them united, and the difficulty of saying -which of the five possessed what I wanted, led me to reject this plan -as I grew cooler; and since I did not dream, even in this dilemma, of -abandoning the expedition the only alternative seemed to be to act as -if I still had the broken coin, and essay what a frank explanation might -effect when the time came. - -After some wretched, very wretched, moments of debate, I resolved to -adopt this course; and, for the present, thinking I might gain -some knowledge of the surroundings while the light lasted, I pushed -cautiously forward through the trees and came in less than five minutes -within sight of a corner of the chateau, which I found to be a modern -building of the time of Henry II., raised, like the houses of that -time, for pleasure rather than defence, and decorated with many handsome -casements and tourelles. Despite this, it wore, as I saw it, a grey and -desolate air, due in part to the loneliness of the situation and the -lateness of the hour; and in part, I think, to the smallness of the -household maintained, for no one was visible on the terrace or at the -windows. The rain dripped from the trees, which on two sides pressed so -closely on the house as almost to darken the rooms, and everything I -saw encouraged me to hope that mademoiselle’s wishes would second my -entreaties, and incline her to lend a ready ear to my story. - -The appearance of the house, indeed, was a strong inducement to me to -proceed, for it was impossible to believe that a young lady, a kinswoman -of the gay and vivacious Turenne, and already introduced to the -pleasures of the Court, would elect of her own free will to spend the -winter in so dreary a solitude. - -Taking advantage of the last moments of daylight, I rode cautiously -round the house, and, keeping in the shadow of the trees, had no -difficulty in discovering at the north-east corner the balcony of which -I had been told. It was semi-circular in shape, with a stone balustrade, -and hung some fifteen feet above a terraced walk which ran below it, and -was separated from the chase by a low sunk fence. - -I was surprised to observe that, notwithstanding the rain and the -coldness of the evening, the window which gave upon this balcony was -open. Nor was this all. Luck was in store for me at last. I had not -gazed at the window more than a minute, calculating its height and other -particulars, when, to my great joy, a female figure, closely hooded, -stepped out and stood looking up at the sky. I was too far off to be -able to discern by that uncertain light whether this was Mademoiselle de -la Vire or her woman; but the attitude was so clearly one of dejection -and despondency, that I felt sure it was either one or the other. -Determined not to let the opportunity slip, I dismounted hastily -and, leaving the Cid loose, advanced on foot until I stood within -half-a-dozen paces of the window. - -At that point the watcher became aware of me. She started back, but did -not withdraw. Still peering down at me, she called softly to some one -inside the chamber, and immediately a second figure, taller and stouter, -appeared. I had already doffed my cap, and I now, in a low voice, begged -to know if I had the honour of speaking to Mademoiselle de la Vire. In -the growing darkness it was impossible to distinguish faces. - -‘Hush!’ the stouter figure muttered in a tone of warning. ‘Speak lower. -Who are you, and what do you here?’ - -‘I am here,’ I answered respectfully, ‘commissioned by a friend of the -lady I have named, to convey her to a place of safety.’ - -‘Mon dieu!’ was the sharp answer. ‘Now? It is impossible.’ - -‘No,’ I murmured, ‘not now, but to-night. The moon rises at half-past -two. My horses need rest and food. At three I will be below this window -with the means of escape, if mademoiselle choose to use them.’ - -I felt that they were staring at me through the dusk, as though they -would read my breast. ‘Your name, sir?’ the shorter figure murmured at -last, after a pause which was full of suspense and excitement. - -‘I do not think my name of much import at present, Mademoiselle,’ I -answered, reluctant to proclaim myself a stranger. ‘When--’ - -‘Your name, your name, sir!’ she repeated imperiously, and I heard her -little heel rap upon the stone floor of the balcony. - -‘Gaston de Marsac,’ I answered unwillingly. - -They both started, and cried out together. ‘Impossible!’ the last -speaker exclaimed, amazement and anger in her tone, ‘This is a jest, -sir. This--’ - -What more she would have said I was left to guess, for at that moment -her attendant I had no doubt now which was mademoiselle and which -Fanchette--suddenly laid her hand on her mistress’s mouth and pointed -to the room behind them. A second’s suspense, and with a wanting gesture -the two turned and disappeared through the window. - -I lost no time in regaining the shelter of the trees; and concluding, -though I was far from satisfied with the interview, that I could do -nothing more now, but might rather, by loitering in the neighbourhood, -awaken suspicion, I remounted and made for the highway and the village, -where I found my men in noisy occupation of the inn, a poor place, with -unglazed windows, and a fire in the middle of the earthen floor. -My first care was to stable the Cid in a shed at the back, where I -provided for its wants as far as I could with the aid of a half-naked -boy, who seemed to be in hiding there. - -This done, I returned to the front of the house, having pretty well made -up my mind how I would set about the task before me. As I passed one of -the windows, which was partially closed by a rude curtain made of old -sacks, I stopped to look in. Fresnoy and his four rascals were seated -on blocks of wood round the hearth, talking loudly and fiercely, and -ruffling it as if the fire and the room were their own. A pedlar, -seated on his goods in one corner, was eyeing them with evident fear -and suspicion; in another corner two children had taken refuge under a -donkey, which some fowls had chosen as a roosting-pole. The innkeeper, a -sturdy fellow, with a great club in his fist, sat moodily at the foot of -a ladder which led to the loft above, while a slatternly woman, who was -going to and fro getting supper, seemed in equal terror of her guests -and her good man. - -Confirmed by what I saw, and assured that the villains were ripe for any -mischief, and, if not checked, would speedily be beyond my control, I -noisily flung the door open and entered. Fresnoy looked up with a sneer -as I did so, and one of the men laughed. The others became silent; but -no one moved or greeted me. Without a moment’s hesitation I stepped to -the nearest fellow and, with a sturdy kick, sent his log from under him. -‘Rise, you rascal, when I enter!’ I cried, giving vent to the anger -I had long felt. ‘And you, too!’ and with a second kick I sent his -neighbour’s stool flying also, and administered a couple of cuts with -my riding-cane across the man’s shoulders. ‘Have you no manners, sirrah? -Across with you, and leave this side to your betters.’ - -The two rose, snarling and feeling for their weapons, and for a moment -stood facing me, looking now at me and now askance at Fresnoy. But as he -gave no sign, and their comrades only laughed, the men’s courage failed -them at the pinch, and with a very poor grace they sneaked over to the -other side of the fire and sat there, scowling. - -I seated myself beside their leader. ‘This gentleman and I will eat -here,’ I cried to the man at the foot of the ladder. ‘Bid your wife lay -for us, and of the best you have; and do you give those knaves their -provender where the smell of their greasy jackets will not come between -us and our victuals.’ - -The man came forward, glad enough, as I saw, to discover any one in -authority, and very civilly began to draw wine and place a board for us, -while his wife filled our platters from the black pot which hung over -the fire. Fresnoy’s face meanwhile wore the amused smile of one who -comprehended my motives, but felt sufficiently sure of his position -and influence with his followers to be indifferent to my proceedings. -I presently showed him, however, that I had not yet done with him. Our -table was laid in obedience to my orders at such a distance from the -men that they could not overhear our talk, and by-and-by I leant over to -him. - -‘M. Fresnoy,’ I said, ‘you are in danger of forgetting one thing, I -fancy, which it behoves you to remember.’ - -‘What?’ he muttered, scarcely deigning to look up at me. - -‘That you have to do with Gaston de Marsac,’ I answered quietly. ‘I -am making, as I told you this morning, a last attempt to recruit -my fortunes, and I will let no man--no man, do you understand, M. -Fresnoy?--thwart me and go harmless.’ - -‘Who wishes to thwart you?’ he asked impudently. - -‘You,’ I answered unmoved, helping myself, as I spoke, from the roll of -black bread which lay beside me. ‘You robbed me this afternoon; I passed -it over. You encouraged those men to be insolent; I passed it over. -But let me tell you this. If you fail me to-night, on the honour of a -gentleman, M. Fresnoy, I will run you through as I would spit a lark.’ - -‘Will you? But two can play at that game,’ he cried, rising nimbly from -his stool. ‘Still better six! Don’t you think, M. de Marsac, you had -better have waited--?’ - -‘I think you had better hear one word more,’ I answered coolly, keeping -my seat, ‘before you appeal to your fellows there.’ - -‘Well,’ he said, still standing, ‘what is it?’ - -‘Nay,’ I replied, after once more pointing to his stool in vain, ‘if you -prefer to take my orders standing, well and good.’ - -‘Your orders?’ he shrieked, growing suddenly excited. - -‘Yes, my orders!’ I retorted, rising as suddenly to my feet and hitching -forward my sword. ‘My orders, sir,’ I repeated fiercely, ‘or, if you -dispute my right to command as well as to pay this party, let us decide -the question here and now--you and I, foot to foot, M. Fresnoy.’ - -The quarrel flashed up so suddenly, though I had been preparing it all -along, that no one moved. The woman indeed, fell back to her children, -but the rest looked on open-mouthed. Had they stirred, or had a moment’s -hurly-burly heated his blood, I doubt not Fresnoy would have taken up -my challenge, for he did not lack hardihood. But as it was, face to face -with me in the silence, his courage failed him. He paused, glowering at -me uncertainly, and did not speak. - -‘Well,’ I said, ‘don’t you think that if I pay I ought to give orders, -sir?’ - -‘Who wishes to oppose your orders?’ he muttered, drinking off a bumper, -and sitting down with an air of impudent bravado, assumed to hide his -discomfiture. - -‘If you don’t, no one else does,’ I answered. So that is settled. -Landlord, some more wine.’ - -He was very sulky with me for a while, fingering his glass in silence -and scowling at the table. He had enough gentility to feel the -humiliation to which he had exposed himself, and a sufficiency of wit to -understand that that moment’s hesitation had cost him the allegiance of -his fellow-ruffians. I hastened, therefore, to set him at his ease by -explaining my plans for the night, and presently succeeded beyond my -hopes; for when he heard who the lady was whom I proposed to carry -off, and that she was lying that evening at the Chateau de Chize, his -surprise swept away the last trace of resentment. He stared at me, as at -a maniac. - -‘Mon Dieu!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do you know what you are doing, Sieur?’ - -‘I think so,’ I answered. - -‘Do you know to whom the chateau belongs?’ - -‘To the Vicomte de Turenne.’ - -‘And that Mademoiselle de la Vire is his relation?’ - -‘Yes,’ I said. - -‘Mon Dieu!’ he exclaimed again. And he looked at me open-mouthed. - -‘What is the matter?’ I asked, though I had an uneasy consciousness that -I knew--that I knew very well. - -‘Man, he will crush you as I crush this hat!’ he answered in great -excitement. ‘As easily. Who do you think will protect you from him in a -private quarrel of this kind? Navarre? France? our good man? Not one -of them. You had better steal the king’s crown jewels--he is weak; -or Guise’s last plot--he is generous at times, or Navarre’s last -sweetheart--he is as easy as an old shoe. You had better have to do with -all these together, I tell you, than touch Turenne’s ewe-lambs, unless -your aim be to be broken on the wheel! Mon Dieu, yes!’ - -‘I am much obliged to you for your advice,’ I said stiffly, ‘but the die -is cast. My mind is made up. On the other hand, if you are afraid, M. -Fresnoy--’ - -‘I am afraid; very much afraid,’ he answered frankly. - -‘Still your name need not be brought into the matter,’ I replied, ‘I -will take the responsibility. I will let them know my name here at the -inn, where, doubtless, inquiries will be made.’ - -‘To be sure, that is something,’ he answered thoughtfully. ‘Well, it -is an ugly business, but I am in for it. You want me to go with you a -little after two, do you? and the others to be in the saddle at three? -Is that it?’ - -I assented, pleased to find him so far acquiescent; and in this -way, talking the details over more than once, we settled our course, -arranging to fly by way of Poitiers and Tours. Of course I did not tell -him why I selected Blois as our refuge, nor what was my purpose there; -though he pressed me more than once on the point, and grew thoughtful -and somewhat gloomy when I continually evaded it. A little after eight -we retired to the loft to sleep; our men remaining below round the fire -and snoring so merrily as almost to shake the crazy old building. The -host was charged to sit up and call us as soon as the moon rose, but, -as it turned out, I might as well have taken this office on myself, for -between excitement and distrust I slept little, and was wide awake when -I heard his step on the ladder and knew it was time to rise. - -I was up in a moment, and Fresnoy was little behind me; so that, losing -no time in talk, we were mounted and on the road, each with a spare -horse at his knee, before the moon was well above the trees. Once in the -Chase we found it necessary to proceed on foot, but, the distance being -short, we presently emerged without misadventure and stood opposite to -the chateau, the upper part of which shone cold and white in the moon’s -rays. - -There was something so solemn in the aspect of the place, the night -being fine and the sky without a cloud, that I stood for a minute awed -and impressed, the sense of the responsibility I was here to accept -strong upon me. In that short space of time all the dangers before me, -as well the common risks of the road as the vengeance of Turenne and the -turbulence of my own men, presented themselves to my mind, and made -a last appeal to me to turn back from an enterprise so foolhardy. The -blood in a man’s veins runs low and slow at that hour, and mine was -chilled by lack of sleep and the wintry air. It needed the remembrance -of my solitary condition, of my past spent in straits and failure, of -the grey hairs which swept my cheek, of the sword which I had long used -honourably, if with little profit to myself; it needed the thought of -all these things to restore me to courage and myself. - -I judged at a later period that my companion was affected in somewhat -the same way; for, as I stooped to press home the pegs which I had -brought to tether the horses, he laid his hand on my arm. Glancing up to -see what he wanted, I was struck by the wild look in his face (which the -moonlight invested with a peculiar mottled pallor), and particularly in -his eyes, which glittered like a madman’s. He tried to speak, but seemed -to find a difficulty in doing so; and I had to question him roughly -before he found his tongue. When he did speak, it was only to implore me -in an odd, excited manner to give up the expedition and return. - -‘What, now?’ I said, surprised. ‘Now we are here, Fresnoy?’ - -‘Ay, give it up!’ he cried, shaking me almost fiercely by the arm. ‘Give -it up, man! It will end badly, I tell you! In God’s name, give it up, -and go home before worse comes of it.’ - -‘Whatever comes of it,’ I answered coldly, shaking his grasp from my -arm, and wondering much at this sudden fit of cowardice, ‘I go on. You, -M. Fresnoy, may do as you please!’ - -He started and drew back from me; but he did not reply, nor did he speak -again. When I presently went off to fetch a ladder, of the position of -which I had made a note during the afternoon, he accompanied me, and -followed me back in the same dull silence to the walk below the balcony. -I had looked more than once and eagerly at mademoiselle’s window without -any light or movement in that quarter rewarding my vigilance; but, -undeterred by this, which might mean either that my plot was known, -or that Mademoiselle de la Vire distrusted me, I set the ladder softly -against the balcony, which was in deep shadow, and paused only to give -Fresnoy his last instructions. These were simply to stand on guard -at the foot of the ladder and defend it in case of surprise; so that, -whatever happened inside the chateau, my retreat by the window might not -be cut off. - -Then I went cautiously up the ladder, and, with my sheathed sword in my -left hand, stepped over the balustrade. Taking one pace forward, with -fingers outstretched, I felt the leaded panes of the window and tapped -softly. - -As softly the casement gave way, and I followed it. A hand which I could -see but not feel was laid on mine. All was darkness in the room, and -before me, but the hand guided me two paces forward, then by a sudden -pressure bade me stand. I heard the sound of a curtain being drawn -behind me, and the next moment the cover of a rushlight was removed, and -a feeble but sufficient light filled the chamber. - -I comprehended that the drawing of that curtain over the window had cut -off my retreat as effectually as if a door had been closed behind me. -But distrust and suspicion gave way the next moment to the natural -embarrassment of the man who finds himself in a false position and knows -he can escape from it only by an awkward explanation. - -The room in which I found myself was long, narrow, and low in the -ceiling; and being hung with some dark stuff which swallowed up the -light, terminated funereally at the farther end in the still deeper -gloom of an alcove. Two or three huge chests, one bearing the remnants -of a meal, stood against the walls. The middle of the floor was covered -with a strip of coarse matting, on which a small table, a chair and -foot-rest, and a couple of stools had place, with some smaller articles -which lay scattered round a pair of half-filled saddle-bags. The -slighter and smaller of the two figures I had seen stood beside the -table, wearing a mask and riding cloak; and by her silent manner of -gazing at me, as well as by a cold, disdainful bearing, which neither -her mask nor cloak could hide, did more to chill and discomfit me than -even my own knowledge that I had lost the pass-key which should have -admitted me to her confidence. - -The stouter figure of the afternoon turned out to be a red-cheeked, -sturdy woman of thirty, with bright black eyes and a manner which lost -nothing of its fierce impatience when she came a little later to address -me. All my ideas of Fanchette were upset by the appearance of this -woman, who, rustic in her speech and ways, seemed more like a duenna, -than the waiting-maid of a court beauty, and better fitted to guard a -wayward damsel than to aid her in such an escapade as we had in hand. - -She stood slightly behind her mistress, her coarse red hand resting on -the back of the chair from which mademoiselle had apparently risen on my -entrance. For a few seconds, which seemed minutes to me, we stood gazing -at one another in silence, mademoiselle acknowledging my bow by a slight -movement of the head. Then, seeing that they waited for me to speak, I -did so. - -‘Mademoiselle de la Vire?’ I murmured doubtfully. - -She bent her head again; that was all. - -I strove to speak with confidence. ‘You will pardon me, mademoiselle,’ -I said, ‘if I seem to be abrupt, but time is everything. The horses are -standing within a hundred yards of the house, and all the preparations -for your flight are made. If we leave now, we can do so without -opposition. The delay even of an hour may lead to discovery.’ - -For answer she laughed behind her mask-laughed coldly and ironically. -‘You go too fast, sir,’ she said, her low clear voice matching the laugh -and rousing a feeling almost of anger in my heart. ‘I do not know you; -or, rather, I know nothing of you which should entitle you to interfere -in my affairs. You are too quick to presume, sir. You say you come from -a friend. From whom?’ - -‘From one whom I am proud to call by that title,’ I answered with what -patience I might. - -‘His name!’ - -I answered firmly that I could not give it. And I eyed her steadily as I -did so. - -This for the moment seemed to baffle and confuse her, but after a pause -she continued: ‘Where do you propose to take me, sir?’ - -‘To Blois; to the lodging of a friend of my friend.’ - -‘You speak bravely,’ she replied with a faint sneer. ‘You have made some -great friends lately it seems! But you bring me some letter, no doubt; -at least some sign, some token, some warranty, that you are the person -you pretend to be, M. de Marsac?’ - -‘The truth is, Mademoiselle,’ I stammered, ‘I must explain. I should -tell you--’ - -‘Nay, sir,’ she cried impetuously, ‘there is no need of telling. If you -have what I say, show it me! It is you who lose time. Let us have no -more words!’ - -I had used very few words, and, God knows, was not in the mind to use -many; but, being in the wrong, I had no answer to make except the truth, -and that humbly. ‘I had such a token as you mention, mademoiselle,’ I -said, ‘no farther back than this afternoon, in the shape of half a gold -coin, entrusted to me by my friend. But, to my shame I say it, it was -stolen from me a few hours back.’ - -‘Stolen from you!’ she exclaimed. - -‘Yes, mademoiselle; and for that reason I cannot show it,’ I answered. - -‘You cannot show it? And you dare to come to me without it!’ she cried, -speaking with a vehemence which fairly startled me, prepared as I was -for reproaches. You come to me! You!’ she continued. And with that, -scarcely stopping to take breath, she loaded me with abuse; calling me -impertinent, a meddler, and a hundred other things, which I now blush -to recall, and displaying in all a passion which even in her attendant -would have surprised me, but in one so slight and seemingly delicate, -overwhelmed and confounded me. In fault as I was, I could not understand -the peculiar bitterness she displayed, or the contemptuous force of her -language, and I stared at her in silent wonder until, of her own accord, -she supplied the key to her feelings. In a fresh outburst of rage she -snatched off her mask, and to my astonishment I saw before me the -young maid of honour whom I had encountered in the King of Navarre’s -antechamber, and whom I had been so unfortunate as to expose to the -raillery of Mathurine. - -‘Who has paid you, sir,’ she continued, clenching her small hands and -speaking with tears of anger in her eyes, ‘to make me the laughing-stock -of the Court? It was bad enough when I thought you the proper agent of -those to whom I have a right to look for aid! It was bad enough when -I thought myself forced, through their inconsiderate choice, to -decide between an odious imprisonment and the ridicule to which your -intervention must expose me! But that you should have dared, of your own -notion, to follow me, you, the butt of the Court--’ - -‘Mademoiselle!’ I cried. - -‘A needy, out-at-elbows adventurer!’ she persisted, triumphing in her -cruelty. ‘It exceeds all bearing! It is not to be suffered! It--’ - -‘Nay, mademoiselle; you SHALL hear me!’ I cried, with a sternness which -at last stopped her. ‘Granted I am poor, I am still a gentleman; yes, -mademoiselle,’ I continued, firmly, ‘a gentleman, and the last of a -family which has spoken with yours on equal terms. And I claim to be -heard. I swear that when I came here to-night I believed you to be a -perfect stranger! I was unaware that I had ever seen you, unaware that I -had ever met you before.’ - -‘Then why did you come?’ she said viciously. - -‘I was engaged to come by those whom you have mentioned, and there, -and there only am I in fault. They entrusted to me a token which I have -lost. For that I crave your pardon.’ - -‘You have need to,’ she answered bitterly, yet with a changed -countenance, or I was mistaken, ‘if your story be true, sir.’ - -‘Ay, that you have!’ the woman beside her echoed. - -‘Hoity toity, indeed! Here is a fuss about nothing. You call yourself a -gentleman, and wear such a doublet as--’ - -‘Peace, Fanchette,’ mademoiselle said imperiously. And then for a moment -she stood silent, eyeing me intently, her lips trembling with excitement -and two red spots burning in her cheeks. It was clear from her dress -and other things that she had made up her mind to fly had the token been -forthcoming; and seeing this, and knowing how unwilling a young girl -is to forgo her own way, I still had some hopes that she might not -persevere in her distrust and refusal. And so it turned out. - -Her manner had changed to one of quiet scorn when she next spoke. ‘You -defend yourself skilfully, sir,’ she said, drumming with her fingers on -the table and eyeing me steadfastly. ‘But can you give me any reason for -the person you name making choice of such a messenger?’ - -‘Yes,’ I answered, boldly. ‘That he may not be suspected of conniving at -your escape.’ - -‘Oh!’ she cried, with a spark of her former passion. ‘Then it is to be -put about that Mademoiselle de la Vire had fled from Chize with M. de -Marsac, is it? I thought that!’ - -‘Through the assistance of M. de Marsac,’ I retorted, correcting her -coldly. ‘It is for you, mademoiselle,’ I continued, ‘to weigh that -disadvantage against the unpleasantness of remaining here. It only -remains for me to ask you to decide quickly. Time presses, and I have -stayed here too long already.’ - -The words had barely passed my lips when they received unwelcome -confirmation in the shape of a distant sound--the noisy closing of a -door, which, clanging through the house at such an hour--I judged it to -be after three o’clock--could scarcely mean anything but mischief. -This noise was followed immediately, even while we stood listening with -raised fingers, by other sounds--a muffled cry, and the tramp of heavy -footsteps in a distant passage. Mademoiselle looked at me, and I at her -woman. ‘The door!’ I muttered. ‘Is it locked?’ - -‘And bolted!’ Fanchette answered; ‘and a great chest set against it. Let -them ramp; they will do no harm for a bit.’ - -‘Then you have still time, mademoiselle,’ I whispered, retreating a step -and laying my hand on the curtain before the window. Perhaps I affected -greater coolness than I felt. ‘It is not too late. If you choose to -remain, well and good. I cannot help it. If, on the other hand, you -decide to trust yourself to me, I swear, on the honour of a gentleman, -to be worthy of the trust--to serve you truly and protect you to the -last! I can say no more.’ - -She trembled, looking from me to the door, on which some one had just -begun to knock loudly. That seemed to decide her. Her lips apart, her -eyes full of excitement, she turned hastily to Fanchette. - -‘Ay, go if you like,’ the woman answered doggedly, reading the meaning -of her look. ‘There cannot be a greater villain than the one we know -of. But once started, heaven help us, for if he overtakes us we’ll pay -dearly for it!’ - -The girl did not speak herself, but it was enough. The noise at the door -increased each second, and began to be mingled with angry appeals to -Fanchette to open, and with threats in case she delayed. I cut the -matter short by snatching up one of the saddle-bags--the other we left -behind--and flung back the curtain which covered the window. At the same -time the woman dashed out the light--a timely precaution--and throwing -open the casement I stepped on to the balcony, the others following me -closely. - -The moon had risen high, and flooding with light the small open space -about the house enabled me to see clearly all round the foot of the -ladder, to my surprise Fresnoy was not at his post, nor was he to be -seen anywhere; but as, at the moment I observed this, an outcry away to -my left, at the rear of the chateau, came to my ears, and announced -that the danger was no longer confined to the interior of the house, -I concluded that he had gone that way to intercept the attack. Without -more, therefore, I began to descend as quickly as I could, my sword -under one arm and the bag under the other. - -I was half-way down, and mademoiselle was already stepping on to the -ladder to follow, when I heard footsteps below, and saw him run up, his -sword in his hand. - -‘Quick, Fresnoy!’ I cried. ‘To the horses and unfasten them! quick!’ - -I slid down the rest of the way, thinking he had gone to do my bidding. -But my feet were scarcely on the ground when a tremendous blow in the -side sent me staggering three paces from the ladder. The attack was -so sudden, so unexpected, that but for the sight of Fresnoy’s scowling -face, wild with rage, at my shoulder, and the sound of his fierce -breathing as he strove to release his sword, which had passed through my -saddle-bag, I might never have known who struck the blow, or how narrow -had been my escape. - -Fortunately the knowledge did come to me in time, and before he freed -his blade; and it nerved my hand. To draw my-blade at such close -quarters was impossible, but, dropping the bag which had saved my life, -I dashed my hilt twice in his face with such violence that he fell -backwards and lay on the turf, a dark stain growing and spreading on his -upturned face. - -It was scarcely done before the women reached the foot of the ladder and -stood beside me. ‘Quick!’ I cried to them, ‘or they will be upon us.’ -Seizing mademoiselle’s hand, just as half-a-dozen men came running round -the corner of the house, I jumped with her down the haha, and, urging -her to her utmost speed, dashed across the open ground which lay between -us and the belt of trees. Once in the shelter of the latter, where our -movements were hidden from view, I had still to free the horses and -mount mademoiselle and her woman, and this in haste. But my companions’ -admirable coolness and presence of mind, and the objection which our -pursuers, who did not know our numbers, felt to leaving the open ground, -enabled us to do all with, comparative ease. I sprang on the Cid (it has -always been my habit to teach my horse to stand for me, nor do I know -any accomplishment more serviceable at a pinch), and giving Fresnoy’s -grey a cut over the flanks which despatched it ahead, led the way down -the ride by which I had gained the chateau in the afternoon. I knew -it to be level and clear of trees, and the fact that we chose it might -throw our pursuers off the track for a time, by leading them to think we -had taken the south road instead of that through the village. - - - -CHAPTER V. THE ROAD TO BLOIS. - -We gained the road without let or hindrance, whence a sharp burst in the -moonlight soon brought us to the village. Through this we swept on -to the inn, almost running over the four evangelists, whom we found -standing at the door ready for the saddle. I bade them, in a quick -peremptory tone, to get to horse, and was overjoyed to see them obey -without demur or word of Fresnoy. In another minute, with a great -clatter of hoofs, we sprang clear of the hamlet, and were well on the -road to Melle, with Poitiers some thirteen leagues before us. I looked -back, and thought I discerned lights moving in the direction of the -chateau; but the dawn was still two hours off, and the moonlight left -me in doubt whether these were real or the creatures of my own fearful -fancy. - -I remember, three years before this time, on the occasion of the famous -retreat from Angers--when the Prince of Conde had involved his army -beyond the Loire, and saw himself, in the impossibility of recrossing -the river, compelled to take ship for England, leaving every one to -shift for himself--I well remember on that occasion riding, alone and -pistol in hand, through more than thirty miles of the enemy’s country -without drawing rein. But my anxieties were then confined to the four -shoes of my horse. The dangers to which I was exposed at every ford and -cross road were such as are inseparable from a campaign, and breed in -generous hearts only a fierce pleasure, rarely to be otherwise enjoyed. -And though I then rode warily, and where I could not carry terror, -had all to fear myself, there was nothing secret or underhand in my -business. - -It was very different now. During the first few hours of our flight from -Chize I experienced a painful excitement, an alarm, a feverish anxiety -to get forward, which was new to me; which oppressed my spirits to the -very ground; which led me to take every sound borne to us on the wind -for the sound of pursuit, transforming the clang of a hammer on the -anvil into the ring of swords, and the voices of my own men into those -of the pursuers. It was in vain mademoiselle rode with a free hand, and -leaping such obstacles as lay in our way, gave promise of courage and -endurance beyond my expectations. I could think of nothing but the three -long day’s before us, with twenty-four hours to every day, and each hour -fraught with a hundred chances of disaster and ruin. - -In fact, the longer I considered our position--and as we pounded along, -now splashing through a founderous hollow, now stumbling as we wound -over a stony shoulder, I had ample time to reflect upon it--the greater -seemed the difficulties before us. The loss of Fresnoy, while it freed -me from some embarrassment, meant also the loss of a good sword, and we -had mustered only too few before. The country which lay between us and -the Loire, being the borderland between our party and the League, had -been laid desolate so often as to be abandoned to pillage and disorder -of every kind. The peasants had flocked into the towns. Their places -had been taken by bands of robbers and deserters from both parties, -who haunted the ruined villages about Poitiers, and preyed upon all who -dared to pass. To add to our perils, the royal army under the Duke of -Nevers was reported to be moving slowly southward, not very far to the -left of our road; while a Huguenot expedition against Niort was also in -progress within a few leagues of us. - -With four staunch and trustworthy comrades at my back, I might have -faced even this situation with a smile and a light heart; but the -knowledge that my four knaves might mutiny at any moment, or, worse -still, rid themselves of me and all restraint by a single treacherous -blow such as Fresnoy had aimed at me, filled me with an ever-present -dread; which it taxed my utmost energies to hide from them, and which I -strove in vain to conceal from mademoiselle’s keener vision. - -Whether it was this had an effect upon her, giving her a meaner opinion -of me than that which I had for a while hoped she entertained, or that -she began, now it was too late, to regret her flight and resent my -part in it, I scarcely know; but from daybreak onwards she assumed an -attitude of cold suspicion towards me, which was only less unpleasant -than the scornful distance of her manner when she deigned, which was -seldom, to address me. - -Not once did she allow me to forget that I was in her eyes a needy -adventurer, paid by her friends to escort her to a place of safety, but -without any claim to the smallest privilege of intimacy or equality. -When I would have adjusted her saddle, she bade her woman come and hold -up her skirt, that my hands might not touch its hem even by accident. -And when I would have brought wine to her at Melle, where we stayed for -twenty minutes, she called Fanchette to hand it to her. She rode for -the most part in her mask; and with her woman. One good effect only her -pride and reserve had; they impressed our men with a strong sense of -her importance, and the danger to which any interference with her might -expose them. - -The two men whom Fresnoy had enlisted I directed to ride a score of -paces in advance. Luke and John I placed in the rear. In this manner -I thought to keep them somewhat apart. For myself, I proposed to ride -abreast of mademoiselle, but she made it so clear that my neighbourhood -displeased her that I fell back, leaving her to ride with Fanchette; and -contented myself with plodding at their heels, and striving to attach -the later evangelists to my interests. - -We were so fortunate, despite my fears, as to find the road nearly -deserted--as, alas, was much of the country on either side--and to meet -none but small parties travelling along it; who were glad enough, seeing -the villainous looks of our outriders, to give us a wide berth, and be -quit of us for the fright. We skirted Lusignan, shunning the streets, -but passing near enough for me to point out to mademoiselle the site of -the famous tower built, according to tradition, by the fairy Melusina, -and rased thirteen years back by the Leaguers. She received my -information so frigidly, however, that I offered no more, but fell back -shrugging my shoulders, and rode in silence, until, some two hours after -noon, the city of Poitiers came into sight, lying within its circle of -walls and towers on a low hill in the middle of a country clothed in -summer with rich vineyards, but now brown and bare and cheerless to the -eye. - -Fanchette turned and asked me abruptly if that were Poitiers. - -I answered that it was, but added that for certain reasons I proposed -not to halt, but to lie at a village a league beyond the city, where -there was a tolerable inn. - -‘We shall do very well here,’ the woman answered rudely. ‘Any way, my -lady will go no farther. She is tired and cold, and wet besides, and has -gone far enough.’ - -‘Still,’ I answered, nettled by the woman’s familiarity, ‘I think -mademoiselle will change her mind when she hears my reasons for going -farther.’ - -‘Mademoiselle does not wish to hear them, sir,’ the lady replied -herself, and very sharply. - -‘Nevertheless, I think you had better hear them,’ I persisted, turning -to her respectfully. ‘You see, mademoiselle--’ - -‘I see only one thing, sir,’ she exclaimed, snatching off her mask and -displaying a countenance beautiful indeed, but flushed for the moment -with anger and impatience, ‘that, whatever betides, I stay at Poitiers -to-night.’ - -‘If it would content you to rest an hour?’ I suggested gently. - -‘It will not content me!’ she rejoined with spirit. ‘And let me tell -you, sir,’ she went on impetuously, ‘once for all, that you take too -much upon yourself. You are here to escort me, and to give orders to -these ragamuffins, for they are nothing better, with whom you have -thought fit to disgrace our company; but not to give orders to me or -to control my movements. Confine yourself for the future, sir, to your -duties, if you please.’ - -‘I desire only to obey you,’ I answered, suppressing the angry feelings -which rose in my breast, and speaking as coolly as lay in my power. -‘But, as the first of my duties is to provide for your safety, I am -determined to omit nothing which can conduce to that end. You have not -considered that, if a party in pursuit of us reaches Poitiers to-night, -search will be made for us in the city, and we shall be taken. If, on -the other hand, we are known to have passed through, the hunt may go no -farther; certainly will go no farther to-night. Therefore we must not, -mademoiselle,’ I added firmly, ‘lie in Poitiers to-night.’ - -‘Sir,’ she exclaimed, looking at me, her face crimson with wonder and -indignation, ‘do you dare to--?’ - -‘I dare do my duty, mademoiselle,’ I answered, plucking up a spirit, -though my heart was sore. ‘I am a man old enough to be your father, and -with little to lose, or I had not been here. I care nothing what you -think or what you say of me, provided I can do what I have undertaken -to do and place you safely in the hands of your friends. But enough, -mademoiselle, we are at the gate. If you will permit me, I will ride -through the streets beside you. We shall so attract less attention.’ - -Without waiting for a permission which she was very unlikely to give, -I pushed my horse forward, and took my place beside her, signing to -Fanchette to fall back. The maid obeyed, speechless with indignation; -while mademoiselle flashed a scathing glance at me and looked round in -helpless anger, as though it was in her mind to appeal against me even -to the passers-by. But she thought better of it, and contenting herself -with muttering the word ‘Impertinent’ put on her mask with fingers which -trembled, I fancy, not a little. - -A small rain was falling and the afternoon was well advanced when we -entered the town, but I noticed that, notwithstanding this, the streets -presented a busy and animated appearance, being full of knots of people -engaged in earnest talk. A bell was tolling somewhere, and near the -cathedral a crowd of no little size was standing, listening to a man -who seemed to be rending a placard or manifesto attached to the wall. In -another place a soldier, wearing the crimson colours of the League, -but splashed and stained as with recent travel, was holding forth to -a breathless circle who seemed to hang upon his lips. A neighbouring -corner sheltered a handful of priests who whispered together with gloomy -faces. Many stared at us as we passed, and some would have spoken; but I -rode steadily on, inviting no converse. Nevertheless at the north gate I -got a rare fright; for, though it wanted a full half-hour of sunset, -the porter was in the act of closing it. Seeing us, he waited grumbling -until we came up, and then muttered, in answer to my remonstrance, -something about queer times and wilful people having their way. I -took little notice of what he said, however, being anxious only to get -through the gate and leave as few traces of our passage as might be. - -As soon as we were outside the town I fell back, permitting Fanchette to -take my place. For another league, a long and dreary one, we plodded -on in silence, horses and men alike jaded and sullen, and the women -scarcely able to keep their saddles for fatigue. At last, much to my -relief, seeing that I began to fear I had taxed mademoiselle’s strength -too far, the long low buildings of the inn at which I proposed to stay -came in sight, at the crossing of the road and river. The place looked -blank and cheerless, for the dusk was thickening; but as we trailed one -by one into the courtyard a stream of firelight burst on us from doors -and windows, and a dozen sounds of life and comfort greeted our ears. - -Noticing that mademoiselle was benumbed and cramped with long sitting, I -would have helped her to dismount; but she fiercely rejected my aid, and -I had to content myself with requesting the landlord to assign the best -accommodation he had to the lady and her attendant, and secure as much -privacy for them as possible. The man assented very civilly and said all -should be done; but I noticed that his eyes wandered while I talked, and -that he seemed to have something on his mind. When he returned, after -disposing of them, it came out. - -‘Did you ever happen to see him, sir?’ he asked with a sigh; yet was -there a smug air of pleasure mingled with his melancholy. - -‘See whom?’ I answered, staring at him, for neither of us had mentioned -any one. - -‘The Duke, sir.’ - -I stared again between wonder and suspicion. ‘The Duke of Nevers is not -in this part, is he?’ I said slowly. ‘I heard he was on the Brittany -border, away to the westward.’ - -‘Mon Dieu!’ my host exclaimed, raising his hands in astonishment. ‘You -have not heard, sir?’ - -‘I have heard nothing,’ I answered impatiently. - -‘You have not heard, sir, that the most puissant and illustrious lord -the Duke of Guise is dead?’ - -‘M. de Guise dead? It is not true!’ I cried astonished. - -He nodded, however, several times with an air of great importance, and -seemed as if he would have gone on to give me some particulars. But, -remembering, as I fancied, that he spoke in the hearing of half-a-dozen -guests who sat about the great fire behind me, and had both eyes and -ears open, he contented himself with shifting his towel to his other arm -and adding only, ‘Yes, sir, dead as any nail. The news came through here -yesterday, and made a pretty stir. It happened at Blois the day but one -before Christmas, if all be true.’ - -I was thunderstruck. This was news which might change the face of -France. ‘How did it happen?’ I asked. - -My host covered his mouth with his hand and coughed, and, privily -twitching my sleeve, gave me to understand with some shamefacedness -that he could not say more in public. I was about to make some excuse to -retire with him, when a harsh voice, addressed apparently to me, caused -me to turn sharply. I found at my elbow a tall thin-faced monk in the -habit of the Jacobin order. He had risen from his seat beside the fire, -and seemed to be labouring under great excitement. - -‘Who asked how it happened?’ he cried, rolling his eyes in a kind of -frenzy, while still observant, or I was much mistaken, of his listeners. -Is there a man in France to whom the tale has not been told? Is there?’ - -‘I will answer for one,’ I replied, regarding him with little favour. ‘I -have heard nothing.’ - -‘Then you shall! Listen!’ he exclaimed, raising his right hand and -brandishing it as though he denounced a person then present. ‘Hear my -accusation, made in the name of Mother Church and the saints against -the arch hypocrite, the perjurer and assassin sitting in high places! He -shall be Anathema Maranatha, for he has shed the blood of the holy and -the pure, the chosen of Heaven! He shall go down to the pit, and that -soon. The blood that he has shed shall be required of him, and that -before he is one year older.’ - -‘Tut-tut. All that sounds very fine, good father,’ I said, waxing -impatient, and a little scornful; for I saw that he was one of those -wandering and often crazy monks in whom the League found their most -useful emissaries. ‘But I should profit more by your gentle words, if I -knew whom you were cursing.’ - -‘The man of blood!’ he cried; ‘through whom the last but not the least -of God’s saints and martyrs entered into glory on the Friday before -Christmas.’ - -Moved by such profanity, and judging him, notwithstanding the -extravagance of his words and gestures, to be less mad than he seemed, -and at least as much knave as fool, I bade him sternly have done with -his cursing, and proceed to his story if he had one. - -He glowered at me for a moment, as though he were minded to launch -his spiritual weapons at my head; but as I returned his glare with an -unmoved eye--and my four rascals, who were as impatient as myself to -learn the news, and had scarce more reverence for a shaven crown, began -to murmur--he thought better of it, and cooling as suddenly as he had -flamed up, lost no more time in satisfying our curiosity. - -It would ill become me, however, to set down the extravagant and often -blasphemous harangue in which, styling M. de Guise the martyr of God, he -told the story now so familiar--the story of that dark wintry morning -at Blois, when the king’s messenger, knocking early at the duke’s door, -bade him hurry, for the king wanted him. The story is trite enough now. -When I heard it first in the inn on the Clain, it was all new and all -marvellous. - -The monk, too, telling the story as if he had seen the events with his -own eyes, omitted nothing which might impress his hearers. He told us -how the duke received warning after warning, and answered in the very -antechamber, ‘He dare not!’ How his blood, mysteriously advised of -coming dissolution, grew chill, and his eye, wounded at Chateau Thierry, -began to run, so that he had to send for the handkerchief he had -forgotten to bring. He told us, even, how the duke drew his assassins up -and down the chamber, how he cried for mercy, and how he died at last -at the foot of the king’s bed, and how the king, who had never dared to -face him living, came and spurned him dead! - -There were pale faces round the fire when he ceased, and bent brows -and lips hard pressed together. Then he stood and cursed the King of -France--cursing him openly by the name of Henry of Valois, a thing I -had never looked to hear in France--though no one said ‘Amen,’ and all -glanced over their shoulders, and our host pattered from the room as if -he had seen a ghost, it seemed to be no man’s duty to gainsay him. - -For myself, I was full of thoughts which it would have been unsafe to -utter in that company or so near the Loire. I looked back sixteen years. -Who but Henry of Guise had spurned the corpse of Coligny? And who but -Henry of Valois had backed him in the act? Who but Henry of Guise had -drenched Paris with blood, and who but Henry of Valois had ridden by -his side? One 23rd of the month--a day never to be erased from France’s -annals--had purchased for him a term of greatness. A second 23rd saw -him, pay the price--saw his ashes cast secretly and by night no man -knows where! - -Moved by such thoughts, and observing that the priest was going the -round of the company collecting money for masses for the duke’s soul, -to which object I could neither give with a good conscience nor refuse -without exciting suspicion, I slipped out; and finding a man of decent -appearance talking with the landlord in a small room beside the kitchen, -I called for a flask of the best wine, and by means of that introduction -obtained my supper in their company. - -The stranger was a Norman horsedealer, returning home, after disposing -of his string. He seemed to be in a large way of business, and being of -a bluff, independent spirit, as many of those Norman townsmen are, was -inclined at first to treat me with more familiarity than respect; the -fact of my nag, for which he would have chaffered, excelling my coat -in quality, leading him to set me down as a steward or intendant. The -pursuit of his trade, however, had brought him into connection with all -classes of men and he quickly perceived his mistake; and as he knew the -provinces between the Seine and Loire to perfection, and made it part of -his business to foresee the chances of peace and war, I obtained a great -amount of information from him, and indeed conceived no little liking -for him. He believed that the assassination of M. de Guise would -alienate so much of France from the king that his majesty would have -little left save the towns on the Loire, and some other places lying -within easy reach of his court at Blois. - -‘But,’ I said, ‘things seem quiet now. Here, for instance.’ - -‘It is the calm before the storm,’ he answered. ‘There is a monk in -there. Have you heard him?’ - -I nodded. - -‘He is only one among a hundred--a thousand,’ the horsedealer continued, -looking at me and nodding with meaning. He was a brown-haired man with -shrewd grey eyes, such as many Normans have. ‘They will get their way -too, you will see,’ he went on. ‘Well, horses will go up, so I have no -cause to grumble; but, if I were on my way to Blois with women or gear -of that kind, I should not choose this time for picking posies on the -road. I should see the inside of the gates as soon as possible.’ - -I thought there was much in what he said; and when he went on to -maintain that the king would find himself between the hammer and the -anvil--between the League holding all the north and the Huguenots -holding all the south--and must needs in time come to terms with the -latter seeing that the former would rest content with nothing short of -his deposition, I began to agree with him that we should shortly see -great changes and very stirring times. - -‘Still if they depose the king,’ I said, ‘the King of Navarre must -succeed him. He is the heir of France.’ - -‘Bah!’ my companion replied somewhat contemptuously. ‘The League will -see to that. He goes with the other.’ - -‘Then the kings are in one cry, and you are right,’ I said with -conviction. ‘They must unite.’ - -‘So they will. It is only a question of time,’ he said. - -In the morning, having only one man with him, and, as I guessed, a -considerable sum of money, he volunteered to join our party as far as -Blois. I assented gladly, and he did so, this addition to our numbers -ridding me at once of the greater part of my fears. I did not expect any -opposition on the part of mademoiselle, who would gain in consequence as -well as in safety. Nor did she offer any. She was content, I think, -to welcome any addition to our party which would save her from the -necessity of riding in the company of my old cloak. - - - -CHAPTER VI. MY MOTHER’S LODGING. - -Travelling by way of Chatelherault and Tours, we reached the -neighbourhood of Blois a little after noon on the third day without -misadventure or any intimation of pursuit. The Norman proved himself -a cheerful companion on the road, as I already knew him to be a man of -sense and shrewdness while his presence rendered the task of keeping -my men in order an easy one. I began to consider the adventure as -practically achieved; and regarding Mademoiselle de la Vire as already -in effect transferred to the care of M. de Rosny, I ventured to turn my -thoughts to the development of my own plans and the choice of a haven in -which I might rest secure from the vengeance of M. de Turenne. - -For the moment I had evaded his pursuit, and, assisted by the confusion -caused everywhere by the death of Guise had succeeded in thwarting his -plans and affronting his authority with seeming ease. But I knew too -much of his power and had heard too many instances of his fierce temper -and resolute will to presume on short impunity or to expect the future -with anything but diffidence and dismay. - -The exclamations of my companions on coming within sight of Blois -aroused me from these reflections. I joined them, and fully shared their -emotion as I gazed on the stately towers which had witnessed so many -royal festivities, and, alas! one royal tragedy; which had sheltered -Louis the Well-beloved and Francis the Great, and rung with the laughter -of Diana of Poitiers and the second Henry. The play of fancy wreathed -the sombre building with a hundred memories grave and gay. But, though -the rich plain of the Loire still swelled upward as of old in gentle -homage at the feet of the gallant town, the shadow of crime seemed to -darken all, and dim even the glories of the royal standard which hung -idly in the air. - -We had heard so many reports of the fear and suspicion which reigned in -the city and of the strict supervision which was exercised over all -who entered--the king dreading a repetition of the day of the -Barricades--that we halted at a little inn a mile short of the gate -and broke up our company. I parted from my Norman friend with mutual -expressions of esteem, and from my own men, whom I had paid off in the -morning, complimenting each of them with a handsome present, with a -feeling of relief equally sincere. I hoped--but the hope was not fated -to be gratified--that I might never see the knaves again. - -It wanted less than an hour of sunset when I rode up to the gate, a few -paces in front of mademoiselle and her woman; as if I had really been -the intendant for whom the horse-dealer had mistaken me. We found the -guardhouse lined with soldiers, who scanned us very narrowly as we -approached, and whose stern features and ordered weapons showed that -they were not there for mere effect. The fact, however, that we came -from Tours, a city still in the king’s hands, served to allay suspicion, -and we passed without accident. - -Once in the streets, and riding in single file between the houses, -to the windows of which the townsfolk seemed to be attracted by the -slightest commotion, so full of terror was the air, I experienced a -moment of huge relief. This was Blois--Blois at last. We were within a -few score yards of the Bleeding Heart. In a few minutes I should receive -a quittance, and be free to think only of myself. - -Nor was my pleasure much lessened by the fact that I was so soon to -part from Mademoiselle de la Vire. Frankly, I was far from liking her. -Exposure to the air of a court had spoiled, it seemed to me, whatever -graces of disposition the young lady had ever possessed. She still -maintained, and had maintained throughout the journey, the cold and -suspicious attitude assumed at starting; nor had she ever expressed -the least solicitude on my behalf, or the slightest sense that we were -incurring danger in her service. She had not scrupled constantly to -prefer her whims to the common advantage, and even safety; while her -sense of self-importance had come to be so great, that she seemed to -hold herself exempt from the duty of thanking any human creature. I -could not deny that she was beautiful--indeed, I often thought, when -watching her, of the day when I had seen her in the King of Navarre’s -antechamber in all the glory of her charms. But I felt none the less -that I could turn my back on her--leaving her in safety--without regret; -and be thankful that her path would never again cross mine. - -With such thoughts in my breast I turned the corner of the Rue de -St. Denys and came at once upon the Bleeding Heart, a small but -decent-looking hostelry situate near the end of the street and opposite -a church. A bluff grey-haired man, who was standing in the doorway, came -forward as we halted, and looking curiously at mademoiselle asked what I -lacked; adding civilly that the house was full and they had no sleeping -room, the late events having drawn a great assemblage to Blois. - -‘I want only an address,’ I answered, leaning from the saddle and -speaking in a low voice that I might not be overheard by the passers-by. -‘The Baron de Rosny is in Blois, is he not?’ - -The man started at the name of the Huguenot leader, and looked round him -nervously. But, seeing that no one was very near us, he answered: ‘He -was, sir; but he left town a week ago and more. ‘There have been strange -doings here, and M. de Rosny thought that the climate suited him ill.’ - -He said this with so much meaning, as well as concern that he should not -be overheard, that, though I was taken aback and bitterly disappointed, -I succeeded in restraining all exclamations and even show of feeling. -After a pause of dismay, I asked whither M. de Rosny had gone. - -‘To Rosny,’ was the answer. - -‘And Rosny?’ - -‘Is beyond Chartres, pretty well all the way to Mantes,’ the man -answered, stroking my horse’s neck. ‘Say thirty leagues.’ - -I turned my horse, and hurriedly communicated what he said to -mademoiselle, who was waiting a few paces away. Unwelcome to me, the -news was still less welcome to her. Her chagrin and indignation knew no -bounds. For a moment words failed her, but her flashing eyes said more -than her tongue as she cried to me: ‘Well, sir, and what now? Is this -the end of your fine promises? Where is your Rosny, if all be not a -lying invention of your own?’ - -Feeling that she had some excuse I suppressed my choler, and humbly -repeating that Rosny was at his house, two days farther on, and that I -could see nothing for it but to go to him, I asked the landlord where we -could find a lodging for the night. - -‘Indeed, sir, that is more than I can say,’ he answered, looking -curiously at us, and thinking, I doubt not, that with my shabby cloak -and fine horse, and mademoiselle’s mask and spattered riding-coat, -we were an odd couple. ‘There is not an inn which is not full to the -garrets--nay, and the stables; and, what is more, people are chary of -taking strangers in. These are strange times. They say,’ be continued in -a lower tone, ‘that the old queen is dying up there, and will not last -the night.’ - -I nodded. ‘We must go somewhere’ I said. - -‘I would help you if I could,’ he answered, shrugging his shoulders. -‘But there it is! Blois is full from the tiles to the cellars.’ - -My horse shivered under me, and mademoiselle, whose patience was gone, -cried harshly to me to do something. ‘We cannot spend the night in the -streets,’ she said fiercely. - -I saw that she was worn out and scarcely mistress of herself. The light -was falling, and with it some rain. The reek of the kennels and the -close air from the houses seemed to stifle us. The bell at the church -behind us was jangling out vespers. A few people, attracted by the -sight of our horses standing before the inn, had gathered round and were -watching us. - -Something I saw must be done, and done quickly. In despair, and seeing -no other resort, I broached a proposal of which I had not hitherto -even dreamed. ‘Mademoiselle,’ I said bluntly, ‘I must take you to my -mother’s.’ - -‘To your mother’s, sir?’ she cried, rousing herself. Her voice rang with -haughty surprise. - -‘Yes,’ I replied brusquely; ‘since, as you say, we cannot spend the -night in the streets, and I do not know where else I can dispose of you. -From the last advices I had I believe her to have followed the court -hither. My friend,’ I continued, turning to the landlord, ‘do you know -by name a Madame de Bonne, who should be in Blois?’ - -‘A Madame de Bonne!’ he muttered, reflecting. ‘I have heard the name -lately. Wait a moment.’ Disappearing into the house, he returned almost -immediately, followed by a lanky pale-faced youth wearing a tattered -black soutane. ‘Yes,’ he said nodding, ‘there is a worthy lady of that -name lodging in the next street, I am told. As it happens, this young -man lives in the same house, and will guide you, if you like.’ - -I assented, and, thanking him for his information, turned my horse and -requested the youth to lead the way. We had scarcely passed the corner -of the street, however, and entered one somewhat more narrow and less -frequented, when mademoiselle, who was riding behind me, stopped and -called to me. I drew rein, and, turning, asked what it was. - -‘I am not coming,’ she said, her voice trembling slightly, but whether -with alarm or anger I could not determine. ‘I know nothing of you, and -I--I demand to be taken to M. de Rosny.’ - -‘If you cry that name aloud in the streets of Blois, mademoiselle,’ I -retorted, ‘you are like enough to be taken whither you will not care to -go! As for M. de Rosny, I have told you that he is not here. He has gone -to his seat at Mantes.’ - -‘Then take me to him!’ - -‘At this hour of the night?’ I said drily. ‘It is two days’ journey from -here.’ - -‘Then I will go to an inn,’ she replied sullenly. - -‘You have heard that there is no room in the inns’ I rejoined with what -patience I could. ‘And to go from inn to inn at this hour might lead us -into trouble. I can assure you that I am as much taken aback by M. de -Rosny’s absence as you are. For the present, we are close to my mother’s -lodging, and--’ - -‘I know nothing of your mother!’ she exclaimed passionately, her voice -raised. ‘You have enticed me hither by false pretences, sir, and I will -endure it no longer. I will--’ - -‘What you will do, I do not know then, mademoiselle,’ I replied, quite -at my wits’ end; for what with the rain and the darkness, the unknown -streets--in which our tarrying might at any moment collect a crowd--and -this stubborn girl’s opposition, I knew not whither to turn. ‘For my -part I can suggest nothing else. It does not become me to speak of my -mother,’ I continued, ‘or I might say that even Mademoiselle de la Vire -need not be ashamed to accept the hospitality of Madame de Bonne. Nor -are my mother’s circumstances,’ I added proudly, ‘though narrow, so mean -as to deprive her of the privileges of her birth.’ - -My last words appeared to make some impression upon my companion. She -turned and spoke to her woman, who replied in a low voice, tossing her -head the while and glaring at me in speechless indignation. Had there -been anything else for it, they would doubtless have flouted my offer -still; but apparently Fanchette could suggest nothing, and presently -mademoiselle, with a sullen air, bade me lead on. - -Taking this for permission, the lanky youth in the black soutane, who -had remained at my bridle throughout the discussion, now listening -and now staring, nodded and resumed his way; and I followed. After -proceeding a little more than fifty yards he stopped before a -mean-looking doorway, flanked by grated windows, and fronted by a lofty -wall which I took to be the back of some nobleman’s garden. The street -at this point was unlighted, and little better than an alley; nor was -the appearance of the house, which was narrow and ill-looking, though -lofty, calculated, as far as I could make it out is the darkness, -to allay mademoiselle’s suspicions. Knowing, however, that people of -position are often obliged in towns to lodge in poor houses, I thought -nothing of this, and only strove to get mademoiselle dismounted as -quickly as possible. The lad groped about and found two rings beside the -door, and to these I tied up the horses. Then, bidding him lead the way, -and begging mademoiselle to follow, I plunged into the darkness of the -passage and felt my way to the foot of the staircase, which was entirely -unlighted, and smelled close and unpleasant. - -‘Which floor?’ I asked my guide. - -‘The fourth,’ he answered quietly. - -‘Morbleu!’ I muttered, as I began to ascend, my hand on the wall. ‘What -is the meaning of this?’ - -For I was perplexed. The revenues of Marsac, though small, should have -kept my mother, whom I had last seen in Paris before the Nemours -edict, in tolerable comfort--such modest comfort, at any rate, as could -scarcely be looked for in such a house as this--obscure, ill-tended, -unlighted. To my perplexity was added, before I reached the top of -the stairs, disquietude--disquietude on her account as well as on -mademoiselle’s. I felt that something was wrong, and would have given -much to recall the invitation I had pressed on the latter. - -What the young lady thought herself I could pretty well guess, as I -listened to her hurried breathing at my shoulder. With every step I -expected her to refuse to go farther. But, having once made up her -mind, she followed me stubbornly, though the darkness was such that -involuntarily I loosened my dagger, and prepared to defend myself should -this turn out to be a trap. - -We reached the top, however, without accident. Our guide knocked softly -at a door and immediately opened it without waiting for an answer. A -feeble light shone out on the stair-head, and bending my head, for the -lintel was low, I stepped into the room. - -I advanced two paces and stood looking about me in angry bewilderment. -The bareness of extreme poverty marked everything on which my eyes -rested. A cracked earthenware lamp smoked and sputtered on a stool in -the middle of the rotting floor. An old black cloak nailed to the wall, -and flapping to and fro in the draught like some dead gallowsbird, hung -in front of the unglazed window. A jar in a corner caught the drippings -from a hole in the roof. An iron pot and a second stool--the latter -casting a long shadow across the floor--stood beside the handful of wood -ashes, which smouldered on the hearth. And that was all the furniture I -saw, except a bed which filled the farther end of the long narrow room, -and was curtained off so as to form a kind of miserable alcove. - -A glance sufficed to show me all this, and that the room was empty, -or apparently empty. Yet I looked again and again, stupefied. At last -finding my voice, I turned to the young man who had brought us hither, -and with a fierce oath demanded of him what he meant. - -He shrank back behind the open door, and yet; answered with a kind of -sullen surprise that I had asked for Madame de Bonne’s, and this was it. - -‘Madame de Bonne’s!’ I muttered. ‘This Madame de Bonne’s!’ - -He nodded. - -‘Of course it is! And you know it!’ mademoiselle hissed in my ear, her -voice, as she interposed, hoarse with passion. ‘Don’t think that you can -deceive us any longer. We know all! This,’ she continued, looking round, -her cheeks scarlet, her eyes ablaze with scorn, ‘is your mother’s, -is it! Your mother who has followed the court hither--whose means are -narrow, but not so small as to deprive her of the privileges of her -rank! This is your mother’s hospitality, is it? You are a cheat, sir! -and a detected cheat! Let us begone! Let me go, sir, I say!’ - -Twice I had tried to stop the current of her words; but in vain. Now -with anger which surpassed hers a hundredfold--for who, being a man, -would hear himself misnamed before his mother?--I succeeded, ‘Silence, -mademoiselle!’ I cried, my grasp on her wrist. ‘Silence, I say! This is -my mother!’ - -And running forward to the bed, I fell on my knees beside it. A feeble -hand had half withdrawn the curtain, and through the gap my mother’s -stricken face looked out, a great fear stamped upon it. - - - -CHAPTER VII. SIMON FLEIX - -For some minutes I forgot mademoiselle in paying those assiduous -attentions to my mother which her state and my duty demanded; and which -I offered the more anxiously that I recognised, with a sinking heart, -the changes which age and illness had made in her since my last visit. -The shock of mademoiselle’s words had thrown her into a syncope, from -which she did not recover for some time; and then rather through the -assistance of our strange guide, who seemed well aware what to do, than -through my efforts. Anxious as I was to learn what had reduced her -to such straits and such a place, this was not the time to satisfy my -curiosity, and I prepared myself instead for the task of effacing the -painful impression which mademoiselle’s words had made on her mind. - -On first coming to herself she did not remember them, but, content to -find me by her side--for there is something so alchemic in a mother’s -love that I doubt not my presence changed her garret to a palace--she -spent herself in feeble caresses and broken words. Presently, however, -her eye falling on mademoiselle and her maid, who remained standing by -the hearth, looking darkly at us from time to time, she recalled, first -the shock which had prostrated her, and then its cause, and raising -herself on her elbow, looked about her wildly. ‘Gaston!’ she cried, -clutching my hand with her thin fingers, ‘what was it I heard? It was of -you someone spoke--a woman! She called you--or did I dream it?--a cheat! -You!’ - -‘Madame, madame,’ I said, striving to speak carelessly, though the -sight; of her grey hair, straggling and dishevelled, moved me strangely, -‘was it; likely? Would anyone dare to use such expressions of me is your -presence? You must indeed have dreamed it!’ - -The words, however, returning more and more vividly to her mind, she -looked at me very pitifully, and in great agitation laid her arm on my -neck, as though she would shelter me with the puny strength which just -enabled her to rise in bed. ‘But someone,’ she muttered, her eyes on the -strangers, ‘said it, Gaston? I heard it. What did it mean?’ - -‘What you heard, madame,’ I answered, with an attempt at gaiety, though -the tears stood in my eyes, ‘was, doubtless, mademoiselle here scolding -our guide from Tours, who demanded three times the proper POURBOIRE. The -impudent rascal deserved all that was said to him, I assure you.’ - -‘Was that it?’ she murmured doubtfully. - -‘That must have been what you heard, madame,’ I answered, as if I felt -no doubt. - -She fell back with a sigh of relief, and a little colour came into her -wan face. But her eyes still dwelt curiously, and with apprehension, on -mademoiselle, who stood looking sullenly into the fire; and seeing this -my heart misgave me sorely that I had done a foolish thing in bringing -the girl there. I foresaw a hundred questions which would be asked, and -a hundred complications which must ensue, and felt already the blush of -shame mounting to my cheek. - -‘Who is that?’ my mother asked softly. ‘I am ill. She must excuse me.’ -She pointed with her fragile finger to my companions. - -I rose, and still keeping her hand in mine, turned so as to face the -hearth. ‘This, madame,’ I answered formally, ‘is Mademoiselle--, but her -name I will commit to you later, and in private. Suffice it to say that -she is a lady of rank, who has been committed to my charge by a high -personage.’ - -‘A high personage?’ my mother repeated gently, glancing at me with a -smile of gratification. - -‘One of the highest,’ I said, ‘Such a charge being a great honour to me, -I felt that I could not better execute it madame, since we must lie in -Blois one night, than by requesting your hospitality on her behalf.’ - -I dared mademoiselle as I spoke--I dared her with my eye to contradict -or interrupt me. For answer, she looked at me once, inclining her head a -little, and gazing at us from under her long eyelashes. Then she turned -back to the fire, and her foot resumed its angry tapping on the floor. - -‘I regret that I cannot receive her better,’ my mother answered feebly. -‘I have had losses of late. I--but I will speak of that at another time. -Mademoiselle doubtless knows,’ she continued with dignity, ‘you and your -position in the south too well to think ill of the momentary straits to -which she finds me reduced.’ - -I saw mademoiselle start, and I writhed under the glance of covert -scorn, of amazed indignation, which she shot at me. But my mother gently -patting my hand, I answered patiently, ‘Mademoiselle will think only -what is kind, madame--of that I am assured. And lodgings are scarce -to-night in Blois.’ - -‘But tell me of yourself, Gaston,’ my mother cried eagerly; and I had -not the heart, with her touch on my hand, her eyes on my face, to tear -myself away, much as I dreaded what was coming, and longed to end the -scene. ‘Tell me of yourself. You are still in favour with the king of--I -will not name him here?’ - -‘Still, madame,’ I answered, looking steadily at mademoiselle, though my -face burned. - -‘You are still--he consults you, Gaston?’ - -‘Still, madame.’ - -My mother heaved a happy sigh, and sank lower in the bed. ‘And your -employments?’ she murmured, her voice trembling with gratification. -‘They have not been reduced? You still retain them, Gaston?’ - -‘Still, madame,’ I answered, the perspiration standing on my brow, my -shame almost more than I could bear. - -‘Twelve thousand livres a year, I think?’ - -‘The same, madame.’ - -‘And your establishment? How many do you keep now? Your valet, of -course? And lackeys--how many at present?’ She glanced, with an eye of -pride, while she waited for my answer, first at the two silent figures -by the fire, then at the poverty-stricken room; as if the sight of its -bareness heightened for her the joy of my prosperity. - -She had no suspicion of my trouble, my misery, or that the last question -almost filled the cup too full. Hitherto all had been easy, but this -seemed to choke me. I stammered and lost my voice. Mademoiselle, her -head bowed, was gazing into the fire. Fanchette was staring at me, her -black eyes round as saucers, her mouth half-open. ‘Well, madame,’ -I muttered at length, ‘to tell you the truth, at present, you must -understand, I have been forced to--’ - -‘What, Gaston?’ Madame de Bonne half rose in bed. Her voice was sharp -with disappointment and apprehension; the grasp of her fingers on my -hand grew closer. - -I could not resist that appeal. I flung away the last rag of shame. -‘To reduce my establishment somewhat,’ I answered, looking a miserable -defiance at mademoiselle’s averted figure. She had called me a liar and -a cheat--here in the room! I must stand before her a liar and a cheat -confessed. ‘I keep but three lackeys now, madame.’ - -Still it is creditable,’ my mother muttered thoughtfully, her eyes -shining. ‘Your dress, however, Gaston--only my eyes are weak--seems to -me--’ - -‘Tut, tut! It is but a disguise,’ I answered quickly. - -‘I might have known that,’ she rejoined, sinking back with a smile and -a sigh of content. ‘But when I first saw you I was almost afraid that -something had happened to you. And I have been uneasy lately,’ she -went on, releasing my hand, and beginning to play with the coverlet, -as though the remembrance troubled her. ‘There was a man here a while -ago--a friend of Simon Fleix there--who had been south to Pau and Nerac, -and he said there was no M. de Marsac about the Court.’ - -‘He probably knew less of the Court than the wine-tavern,’ I answered -with a ghastly smile. - -‘That was just what I told him,’ my mother responded quickly and -eagerly. ‘I warrant you I sent him away ill-satisfied.’ - -‘Of course,’ I said; ‘there will always be people of that kind. But -now, if you will permit me, madame, I will make such arrangements for -mademoiselle as are necessary.’ - -Begging her accordingly to lie down and compose herself--for even so -short a conversation, following on the excitement of our arrival, -had exhausted her to a painful degree--I took the youth, who had just -returned from stabling our horses, a little aside, and learning that he -lodged in a smaller chamber on the farther side of the landing, secured -it for the use of mademoiselle and her woman. In spite of a certain -excitability which marked him at times, he seemed to be a quick, ready -fellow, and he willingly undertook to go out, late as it was, and -procure some provisions and a few other things which were sadly needed, -as well for my mother’s comfort as for our own. I directed Fanchette to -aid him in the preparation of the other chamber, and thus for a while I -was left alone with mademoiselle. She had taken one of the stools, and -sat cowering over the fire, the hood of her cloak drawn about her head; -in such a manner that even when she looked at me, which she did from -time to time, I saw little more than her eyes, bright with contemptuous -anger. - -‘So, sir,’ she presently began, speaking in a low voice, and turning -slightly towards me, ‘you practise lying even here?’ - -I felt so strongly the futility of denial or explanation that I shrugged -my shoulders and remained silent under the sneer. Two more days--two -more days would take us to Rosny, and my task would be done, and -Mademoiselle and I would part for good and all. What would it matter -then what she thought of me? What did it matter now? - -For the first time in our intercourse my silence seemed to disconcert -and displease her. ‘Have you nothing to say for yourself?’ she muttered -sharply, crushing a fragment of charcoal under her foot, and stooping -to peer at the ashes. ‘Have you not another lie in your quiver, M. de -Marsac?’ De Marsac!’ And she repeated the title, with a scornful laugh, -as if she put no faith in my claim to it. - -But I would answer nothing--nothing; and we remained silent until -Fanchette, coming in to say that the chamber was ready, held the light -for her mistress to pass out. I told the woman to come back and fetch -mademoiselle’s supper, and then, being left alone with my mother, who -had fallen asleep, with a smile on her thin, worn face, I began to -wonder what had happened to reduce her to such dire poverty. - -I feared to agitate her by referring to it; but later in the evening, -when her curtains were drawn and Simon Fleix and I were left together, -eyeing one another across the embers like dogs of different breeds--with -a certain strangeness and suspicion--my thoughts recurred to the -question; and determining first to learn something about my companion, -whose pale, eager face and tattered, black dress gave him a certain -individuality, I asked him whether he had come from Paris with Madame de -Bonne. - -He nodded without speaking. - -I asked him if he had known her long. - -‘Twelve months,’ he answered. ‘I lodged on the fifth, madame on the -second, floor of the same house in Paris.’ - -I leaned forward and plucked the hem of his black robe. ‘What is this?’ -I said, with a little contempt. ‘You are not a priest, man.’ - -‘No,’ he answered, fingering the stuff himself, and gazing at me in a -curious, vacant fashion. ‘I am a student of the Sorbonne.’ - -I drew off from him with a muttered oath, wondering--while I looked at -him with suspicious eyes--how he came to be here, and particularly how -he came to be in attendance on my mother, who had been educated from -childhood in the Religion, and had professed it in private all her life. -I could think of no one who, in old days, would have been less welcome -in her house than a Sorbonnist, and began to fancy that here should lie -the secret of her miserable condition. - -‘You don’t like, the Sorbonne?’ he said, reading my thoughts; which -were, indeed, plain enough. - -‘No more than I love the devil!’ I said bluntly. - -He leaned forward and, stretching out a thin, nervous hand, laid it -on my knee. ‘What if they are right, though?’ he muttered, his voice -hoarse. ‘What if they are right, M. de Marsac?’ - -‘Who right?’ I asked roughly, drawing back afresh. - -‘The Sorbonne.’ he repeated, his face red with excitement, his eyes -peering uncannily into mine. ‘Don’t you see,’ he continued, pinching -my knee in his earnestness, and thrusting his face nearer and nearer -to mine, ‘it all turns on that? It all turns on that--salvation or -damnation! Are they right? Are you right? You say yes to this, no to -that, you white-coats; and you say it lightly, but are you right? Are -you right? Mon Dieu!’ he continued, drawing back abruptly and clawing -the air with impatience, ‘I have read, read, read! I have listened to -sermons, theses, disputations, and I know nothing. I know no more than -when I began.’ - -He sprang up and began to pace the floor, while I gazed at him with a -feeling of pity. A very learned person once told me that the troubles of -these times bred four kinds of men, who were much to be compassionated: -fanatics on the one side or the other, who lost sight of all else in the -intensity of their faith; men who, like Simon Fleix, sought desperately -after something to believe, and found it not; and lastly, scoffers, who, -believing in nothing, looked on all religion as a mockery. - -He presently stopped walking--in his utmost excitement I remarked that -he never forgot my mother, but trod more lightly when he drew near the -alcove--and spoke again. ‘You are a Huguenot?’ he said. - -‘Yes,’ I replied. - -‘So is she,’ he rejoined, pointing towards the bed. ‘But do you feel no -doubts?’ - -‘None,’ I said quietly. - -‘Nor does she.’ he answered again, stopping opposite me. You made up -your mind--how?’ - -‘I was born in the Religion,’ I said. - -‘And you have never questioned it?’ - -‘Never.’ - -‘Nor thought much about it?’ - -‘Not a great deal,’ I answered. - -‘Saint Gris!’ he exclaimed in a low tone. ‘And do you never think of -hell-fire--of the worm which dieth not, and the fire which shall not be -quenched? Do you never think of that, M. de Marsac?’ - -‘No, my friend, never!’ I answered, rising impatiently; for at -that hour, and in that silent, gloomy room I found his conversation -dispiriting. ‘I believe what I was taught to believe, and I strive to -hurt no one but the enemy. I think little; and if I were you I would -think less. I would do something, man--fight, play, work, anything but -think! I leave that to clerks.’ - -‘I am a clerk,’ he answered. - -‘A poor one, it seems,’ I retorted, with a little scorn in my tone. -‘Leave it, man. Work! Fight! Do something!’ - -‘Fight?’ he said, as if the idea were a novel one. ‘Fight? But there, I -might be killed; and then hell-fire, you see!’ - -‘Zounds, man!’ I cried, out of patience with a folly which, to tell the -truth, the lamp burning low, and the rain pattering on the roof, made -the skin of my back feel cold and creepy. ‘Enough of this! Keep your -doubts and your fire to yourself! And answer me,’ I continued, sternly. -‘How came Madame de Bonne so poor? How did she come down to this place?’ - -He sat down on his stool, the excitement dying quickly out of his face. -‘She gave away all her money,’ he said slowly and reluctantly. It may be -imagined that this answer surprised me. ‘Gave it away?’ I exclaimed. ‘To -whom? And when?’ - -He moved uneasily on his seat and avoided my eye, his altered manner -filling me with suspicions which the insight I had just obtained into -his character did not altogether preclude. At last he said, ‘I had -nothing to do with it, if you mean that; nothing. On the contrary, I -have done all I could to make it up to her. I followed her here. I swear -that is so, M. de Marsac.’ - -‘You have not told me yet to whom she gave it,’ I said sternly. - -‘She gave it,’ he muttered, ‘to a priest.’ - -‘To what priest?’ - -‘I do not know his name. He is a Jacobin.’ - -‘And why?’ I asked, gazing incredulously at the student. ‘Why did -she give it to him? Come, come! have a care. Let me have none of your -Sorbonne inventions!’ - -He hesitated a moment, looking at me timidly, and then seemed to make up -his mind to tell me. ‘He found out--it was when we lived in Paris, you -understand, last June--that she was a Huguenot. It was about the time -they burned the Foucards, and he frightened her with that, and made her -pay him money, a little at first, and then more and more, to keep her -secret. When the king came to Blois she followed his Majesty, thinking -to be safer here; but the priest came too, and got more money, and more, -until he left her--this.’ - -‘This!’ I said. And I set my teeth together. - -Simon Fleix nodded. - -I looked round the wretched garret to which my mother had been reduced, -and pictured the days and hours of fear and suspense through which she -had lived; through which she must have lived, with that caitiff’s threat -hanging over her grey head! I thought of her birth and her humiliation; -of her frail form and patient, undying love for me; and solemnly, and -before heaven, I swore that night to punish the man. My anger was too -great for words, and for tears I was too old. I asked Simon Fleix no -more questions, save when the priest might be looked for again--which -he could not tell me--and whether he would know him again--to which he -answered, ‘Yes.’ But, wrapping myself in my cloak, I lay down by the -fire and pondered long and sadly. - -So, while I had been pinching there, my mother had been starving here. -She had deceived me, and I her. The lamp flickered, throwing uncertain -shadows as the draught tossed the strange window-curtain to and fro. -The leakage from the roof fell drop by drop, and now and again the wind -shook the crazy building, as though it would lift it up bodily and carry -it away. - - - -CHAPTER VIII. AN EMPTY ROOM. - -Desiring to start as early as possible, that we might reach Rosny on the -second evening, I roused Simon Fleix before it was light, and learning -from him where the horses were stabled, went out to attend to them; -preferring to do this myself, that I might have an opportunity of -seeking out a tailor, and providing myself with clothes better suited to -my rank than those to which I had been reduced of late. I found that I -still had ninety crowns left of the sum which the King of Navarre had -given me, and twelve of these I laid out on a doublet of black cloth -with russet points and ribands, a dark cloak lined with the same -sober colour, and a new cap and feather. The tradesman would fain have -provided me with a new scabbard also, seeing my old one was worn-out at -the heel; but this I declined, having a fancy to go with my point bare -until I should have punished the scoundrel who had made my mother’s -failing days a misery to her; a business which, the King of Navarre’s -once done, I promised myself to pursue with energy and at all costs. - -The choice of my clothes, and a few alterations which it was necessary -to make in them, detained me some time, so that it was later than I -could have wished when I turned my face towards the house again, bent -on getting my party to horse as speedily as possible. The morning, -I remember, was bright, frosty, and cold; the kennels were dry, the -streets comparatively clean. Here and there a ray of early sunshine, -darting between the overhanging eaves, gave promise of glorious -travelling-weather. But the faces, I remarked in my walk, did not -reflect the surrounding cheerfulness. Moody looks met me everywhere and -on every side; and while courier after courier galloped by me bound for -the castle, the townsfolk stood aloof is doorways listless and inactive, -or, gathering in groups in corners, talked what I took to be treason -under the breath. The queen-mother still lived, but Orleans had -revolted, and Sens and Mans, Chartres and Melun. Rouen was said to be -wavering, Lyons in arms, while Paris had deposed her king, and cursed -him daily from a hundred altars. En fin, the great rebellion which -followed the death of Guise, and lasted so many years, was already in -progress; so that on this first day of the new year the king’s writ -scarce ran farther than he could see, peering anxiously out from the -towers above my head. - -Reaching the house, I climbed the long staircase hastily, abusing its -darkness and foulness, and planning as I went how my mother might most -easily and quickly be moved to a better lodging. Gaining the top of the -last flight, I saw that mademoiselle’s door on the left of the landing -was open, and concluding from this that she was up, and ready to start, -I entered my mother’s room with a brisk step and spirits reinforced by -the crisp morning air. - -But on the threshold I stopped, and stood silent and amazed. At first I -thought the room was empty. Then, at a second glance, I saw the student. -He was on his knees beside the bed in the alcove, from which the curtain -had been partially dragged away. The curtain before the window had been -torn down also, and the cold light of day, pouring in on the unsightly -bareness of the room, struck a chill to my heart. A stool lay overturned -by the fire, and above it a grey cat, which I had not hitherto noticed, -crouched on a beam and eyed me with stealthy fierceness. Mademoiselle -was not to be seen, nor was Fanchette, and Simon Fleix did not hear me. -He was doing something at the bed--for my mother it seemed. - -‘What is it, man?’ I cried softly, advancing on tiptoe to the bedside. -‘Where are the others?’ - -The student looked round and saw me. His face was pale and gloomy. His -eyes burned, and yet there were tears in them, and on his cheeks. He did -not speak, but the chilliness, the bareness, the emptiness of the room -spoke for him, and my heart sank. - -I took him by the shoulders. ‘Find your tongue, man!’ I said angrily. -‘Where are they?’ - -He rose from his knees and stood staring at me. ‘They are gone!’ he said -stupidly. - -‘Gone?’ I exclaimed. ‘Impossible! When? Whither?’ - -‘Half an hour ago. Whither--I do not know.’ - -Confounded and amazed, I glared at him between fear and rage. ‘You do -not know?’ I cried. ‘They are gone, and you do not know?’ - -He turned suddenly on me and gripped my arm. ‘No, I do not know! I do -not know!’ he cried, with a complete change of manner and in a tone -of fierce excitement. ‘Only, may the fiend go with them! But I do know -this. I know this, M. de Marsac, with whom they went, these friends of -yours! A fop came, a dolt, a fine spark, and gave them fine words and -fine speeches and a gold token, and, hey presto! they went, and forgot -you!’ - -‘What!’ I cried, beginning to understand, and snatching fiercely at the -one clue in his speech. ‘A gold token? They have been decoyed away then! -There is no time to be lost. I must follow.’ - -‘No, for that is not all!’ he replied, interrupting me sternly, while -his grasp on my arm grew tighter and his eyes flashed as they looked -into mine. ‘You have not heard all. They have gone with one who called -you an impostor, and a thief, and a beggar, and that to your mother’s -face--and killed her! Killed her as surely as if he had taken a sword to -her, M. de Marsac! Will you, after that, leave her for them?’ - -He spoke plainly. And yet, God forgive me, it was some time before I -understood him: before I took in the meaning of his words, or could -transfer my thoughts from the absent to my mother lying on the bed -before me. When I did do so, and turned to her, and saw her still face -and thin hair straggling over the coarse pillow, then, indeed, the sight -overcame me. I thought no more of others--for I thought her dead; and -with a great and bitter cry I fell on my knees beside her and hid my -face. What, after all, was this headstrong girl to me? What were even -kings and king’s commissions to me beside her--beside the one human -being who loved me still, the one being of my blood and name left, the -one ever-patient, ever-constant heart which for years had beaten only -for me? For a while, for a few moments, I was worthy of her; for I -forgot all others. - -Simon Fleix roused me at last from my stupor, making me understand that -she was not dead, but in a deep swoon, the result of the shock she had -undergone. A leech, for whom he had despatched a neighbour, came in as I -rose, and taking my place, presently restored her to consciousness. But -her extreme feebleness warned me not to hope for more than a temporary -recovery; nor had I sat by her long before I discerned that this last -blow, following on so many fears and privations, had reached a vital -part, and that she was even now dying. - -She lay for a while with her hand in mine and her eyes closed, but about -noon, the student, contriving to give her some broth, she revived, and, -recognising me, lay for more than an hour gazing at me with unspeakable -content and satisfaction. At the end of that time, and when I thought -she was past speaking, she signed to me to bend over her, and whispered -something, which at first I could not catch. Presently I made it out to -be, ‘She is gone--The girl you brought?’ - -Much troubled, I answered yes, begging her not to think about the -matter. I need not have feared, however, for when she spoke again she -did so without emotion, and rather as one seeing clearly something -before her. - -‘When you find her, Gaston,’ she murmured, ‘do not be angry with her. It -was not her fault. She--he deceived her. See!’ - -I followed the direction rather of her eyes than her hand, and found -beneath the pillow a length of gold chain. ‘She left that?’ I murmured, -a strange tumult of emotions in my breast. - -‘She laid it there,’ my mother whispered. ‘And she would have stopped -him saying what he did’--a shudder ran through my mother’s frame at the -remembrance of the man’s words, though her eyes still gazed into mine -with faith and confidence--‘she would have stopped him, but she could -not, Gaston. And then he hurried her away.’ - -‘He showed her a token, madame, did he not?’ I could not for my life -repress the question, so much seemed to turn on the point. - -‘A bit of gold,’ my mother whispered, smiling faintly. ‘Now let me -sleep.’ And, clinging always to my hand, she closed her eyes. - -The student came back soon afterwards with some comforts for which I had -despatched him, and we sat by her until the evening fell, and far into -the night. It was a relief to me to learn from the leech that she had -been ailing for some time, and that in any case the end must have -come soon. She suffered no pain and felt no fears, but meeting my -eyes whenever she opened her own, or came out of the drowsiness which -possessed her, thanked God, I think, and was content. As for me, I -remember that room became, for the time, the world. Its stillness -swallowed up all the tumults which filled the cities of France, and -its one interest the coming and going of a feeble breath--eclipsed the -ambitions and hopes of a lifetime. - -Before it grew light Simon Fleix stole out to attend to the horses. When -he returned he came to me and whispered in my ear that he had something -to tell me; and my mother lying in a quiet sleep at the time, I -disengaged my hand, and, rising softly, went with him to the hearth. - -Instead of speaking, he held his fist before me and suddenly unclosed -the fingers. ‘Do you know it?’ he said, glancing at me abruptly. - -I took what he held, and looking at it, nodded. It was a knot of velvet -of a peculiar dark red colour, and had formed, as I knew the moment I -set eyes on it, part of the fastening of mademoiselle’s mask. ‘Where -did you find it?’ I muttered, supposing that he had picked it up on the -stairs. - -‘Look at it!’ he answered impatiently. ‘You have not looked.’ - -I turned it over, and then saw something which had escaped me at -first--that the wider part of the velvet was disfigured by a fantastic -stitching, done very roughly and rudely with a thread of white silk. -The stitches formed letters, the letters words. With a start I read, ‘A -MOI!’ and saw in a corner, in smaller stitches, the initials ‘C. d. l. -V.’ - -I looked eagerly at the student. ‘Where did you find this?’ I said. - -‘I picked it up in the street,’ he answered quietly, ‘not three hundred -paces from here.’ - -I thought a moment. ‘In the gutter, or near the wall?’ I asked. - -‘Near the wall, to be sure.’ - -‘Under a window?’ - -‘Precisely,’ he said. ‘You may be easy; I am not a fool. I marked the -place, M. de Marsac, and shall not forget it.’ - -Even the sorrow and solicitude I felt on my mother’s behalf--feelings -which had seemed a minute before to secure me against all other cares or -anxieties whatever--were not proof against this discovery. For I found -myself placed in a strait so cruel I must suffer either way. On the -one hand, I could not leave my mother; I were a heartless ingrate to do -that. On the other, I could not, without grievous pain, stand still and -inactive while Mademoiselle de la Vire, whom I had sworn to protect, and -who was now suffering through my laches and mischance, appealed to me -for help. For I could not doubt that this was what the bow of velvet -meant; still less that it was intended for me, since few save myself -would be likely to recognise it, and she would naturally expect me to -make some attempt at pursuit. - -And I could not think little of the sign. Remembering mademoiselle’s -proud and fearless spirit, and the light in which she had always -regarded me, I augured the worst from it. I felt assured that no -imaginary danger and no emergency save the last would have induced her -to stoop so low; and this consideration, taken with the fear I felt -that she had fallen into the hands of Fresnoy, whom I believed to be -the person who had robbed me of the gold coin, filled me with a horrible -doubt which way my duty lay. I was pulled, as it were, both ways. I felt -my honour engaged both to go and to stay, and while my hand went to my -hilt, and my feet trembled to be gone, my eyes sought my mother, and my -ears listened for her gentle breathing. - -Perplexed and distracted, I looked at the student, and he at me. ‘You -saw the man who took her away,’ I muttered. Hitherto, in my absorption -on my mother’s account, I had put few questions, and let the matter pass -as though it moved me little and concerned me less. ‘What was he like? -Was he a big, bloated man, Simon, with his head bandaged, or perhaps a -wound on his face?’ - -‘The gentleman who went away with mademoiselle, do you mean?’ he asked. - -‘Yes, yes, gentleman if you like!’ - -‘Not at all,’ the student answered. ‘He was a tall young gallant, very -gaily dressed, dark-haired, and with a rich complexion, I heard him tell -her that he came from a friend of hers too high to be named in public -or in Blois. He added that he brought a token from him; and when -mademoiselle mentioned you--she had just entered madame’s room with her -woman when he appeared--’ - -‘He had watched me out, of course.’ - -‘Just so. Well, when she mentioned you, he swore you were an adventurer, -and a beggarly impostor, and what not, and bade her say whether she -thought it likely that her friend would have entrusted such a mission to -such a man.’ - -‘And then she went with him?’ - -The student nodded. - -‘Readily? Of her own free-will?’ - -‘Certainly,’ he answered. ‘It seemed so to me. She tried to prevent him -speaking before your mother, but that was all.’ - -On the impulse of the moment I took a step towards the door; -recollecting my position, I turned back with a groan. Almost beside -myself, and longing for any vent for my feelings, I caught the lad by -the shoulder, where he stood on the hearth, and shook him to and fro. - -‘Tell me, man, what am I to do?’ I said between my teeth. ‘Speak! think! -invent something!’ - -But he shook his head. - -I let him go with a muttered oath, and sat down on a stool by the bed -and took my head between my hands. At that very moment, however, relief -came--came from an unexpected quarter. The door opened and the leech -entered. He was a skilful man, and, though much employed about the -Court, a Huguenot--a fact which had emboldened Simon Fleix to apply to -him through the landlord of the ‘Bleeding Heart,’ the secret rendezvous -of the Religion in Blois. When he had made his examination he was for -leaving, being a grave and silent man, and full of business, but at the -door I stopped him. - -‘Well, sir?’ I said in a low tone, my hand on his cloak. - -‘She has rallied, and may live three days,’ he answered quietly. ‘Four, -it may be, and as many more as God wills.’ - -Pressing two crowns into his hand, I begged him to call daily, which he -promised to do; and then he went. My mother was still dozing peacefully, -and I turned to Simon Fleix, my doubts resolved and my mind made up. - -‘Listen,’ I said, ‘and answer me shortly. We cannot both leave; that is -certain. Yet I must go, and at once, to the place where you found the -velvet knot. Do you describe the spot exactly, so that I may find it, -and make no mistake.’ - -He nodded, and after a moment’s reflection answered, - -‘You know the Rue St. Denys, M. de Marsac? Well, go down it, keeping the -“Bleeding Heart” on your left. Take the second turning on the same side -after passing the inn. The third house from the corner, on the left -again, consists of a gateway leading to the Hospital of the Holy Cross. -Above the gateway are two windows in the lower story, and above them -two more. The knot lay below the first window you come to. Do you -understand?’ - -‘Perfectly,’ I said. ‘It is something to be a clerk, Simon.’ - -He looked at me thoughtfully, but added nothing; and I was busy -tightening my sword-hilt, and disposing my cloak about the lower part -of my face. When I had arranged this to my satisfaction, I took out -and counted over the sum of thirty-five crowns, which I gave to him, -impressing on him the necessity of staying beside my mother should I not -return; for though I proposed to reconnoitre only, and learn if possible -whether mademoiselle was still in Blois, the future was uncertain, and -whereas I was known to my enemies, they were strangers to me. - -Having enjoined this duty upon him, I bade my mother a silent farewell, -and, leaving the room, went slowly down the stairs, the picture of her -worn and patient face going with me, and seeming, I remember, to hallow -the purpose I had in my mind. - -The clocks were striking the hour before noon as I stepped from the -doorway, and, standing a moment in the lane, looked this way and that -for any sign of espionage. I could detect none, however. The lane was -deserted; and feeling assured that any attempt to mislead my opponents, -who probably knew Blois better than I did, must fail, I made none, but -deliberately took my way towards the ‘Bleeding Heart,’ in the Rue St. -Denys. The streets presented the same appearance of gloomy suspense -which I had noticed on the previous day. The same groups stood about in -the same corners, the same suspicious glances met me in common with -all other strangers who showed themselves; the same listless inaction -characterised the townsfolk, the same anxious hurry those who came and -went with news. I saw that even here, under the walls of the palace, the -bonds of law and order were strained almost to bursting, and judged that -if there ever was a time in France when right counted for little, and -the strong hand for much, it was this. Such a state of things was not -unfavourable to my present design, and caring little for suspicious -looks, I went resolutely on my way. - -I had no difficulty in finding the gateway of which Simon had spoken, -or in identifying the window beneath which he had picked up the velvet -knot. An alley opening almost opposite, I took advantage of this to -examine the house at my leisure, and remarked at once, that whereas the -lower window was guarded only by strong shutters, now open, that in the -story above was heavily barred. Naturally I concentrated my attention -on the latter. The house, an old building of stone, seemed sufficiently -reputable, nor could I discern anything about it which would have -aroused my distrust had the knot been found elsewhere. It bore the arms -of a religious brotherhood, and had probably at one time formed the -principal entrance to the hospital, which still stood behind it, but it -had now come, as I judged, to be used as a dwelling of the better class. -Whether the two floors were separately inhabited or not I failed to -decide. - -After watching it for some time without seeing anyone pass in or out, or -anything occurring to enlighten me one way or the other, I resolved to -venture in, the street being quiet and the house giving no sign of being -strongly garrisoned. The entrance lay under the archway, through a door -on the right side. I judged from what I saw that the porter was probably -absent, busying himself with his gossips in matters of State. - -And this proved to be the case, for when I had made the passage of the -street with success, and slipped quietly in through the half-open door, -I found only his staff and charcoal-pan there to represent him. A single -look satisfied me on that point; forthwith, without hesitation, I -turned to the stairs and began to mount, assured that if I would effect -anything single-handed I must trust to audacity and surprise rather than -to caution or forethought. - -The staircase was poorly lighted by loopholes looking towards the rear, -but it was clean and well-kept. Silence, broken only by the sound of my -footsteps, prevailed throughout the house, and all seemed so regular -and decent and orderly that the higher I rose the lower fell my hopes -of success. Still, I held resolutely on until I reached the second floor -and stood before a closed door. The moment had come to put all to the -touch. I listened for a few seconds but hearing nothing, cautiously -lifted the latch. Somewhat to my surprise the door yielded to my hand, -and I entered. - -A high settle stood inside, interrupting my view of the room, which -seemed to be spacious and full of rich stuffs and furniture, but low -in the roof, and somewhat dimly lighted by two windows rather wide than -high. The warm glow of a fire shone on the woodwork of the ceiling, -and as I softly closed the door a log on the hearth gave way, with a -crackling of sparks, which pleasantly broke the luxurious silence. The -next moment a low, sweet voice asked, ‘Alphonse, is that you?’ - -I walked round the settle and came face to face with a beautiful woman -reclining on a couch. On hearing the door open she had raised herself on -her elbow. Now, seeing a stranger before her, she sprang up with a low -cry, and stood gazing at me, her face expressing both astonishment and -anger. She was of middling height, her features regular though somewhat -childlike, her complexion singularly fair. A profusion of golden hair -hung in disorder about her neck, and matched the deep blue of her eyes, -wherein it seemed to me, there lurked more spirit and fire than the -general cast of her features led one to expect. - -After a moment’s silence, during which she scanned me from head to foot -with great haughtiness--and I her with curiosity and wonder--she spoke. -‘Sir!’ she said slowly, ‘to what am I to attribute this--visit?’ - -For the moment I was so taken aback by her appearance and extraordinary -beauty, as well as by the absence of any sign of those I sought, that I -could not gather my thoughts to reply, but stood looking vaguely at her. -I had expected, when I entered the room, something so different from -this! - -‘Well, sir?’ she said again, speaking sharply, and tapping her foot on -the floor. - -‘This visit, madame?’ I stammered. - -‘Call it intrusion, sir, if you please!’ she cried imperiously. ‘Only -explain it, or begone.’ - -‘I crave leave to do both, madame,’ I answered, collecting myself by an -effort. ‘I ascended these stairs and opened your door in error--that is -the simple fact--hoping to find a friend of mine here. I was mistaken, -it seems, and it only remains for me to withdraw, offering at the same -time the humblest apologies,’ And as I spoke I bowed low and prepared to -retire. - -‘One moment, sir!’ she said quickly, and in an altered tone. ‘You are, -perhaps, a friend of M. de Bruhl--of my husband. In that case, if you -desire to leave any message I will--I shall be glad to deliver it.’ - -She looked so charming that, despite the tumult of my feelings, I could -not but regard her with admiration. ‘Alas! madame, I cannot plead -that excuse,’ I answered. ‘I regret that I have not the honour of his -acquaintance.’ - -She eyed me with some surprise. ‘Yet still, sir,’ she answered, smiling -a little, and toying with a gold brooch which clasped her habit, ‘you -must have had some ground, some reason, for supposing you would find a -friend here?’ - -‘True, madame,’ I answered, ‘but I was mistaken.’ - -I saw her colour suddenly. With a smile and a faint twinkle of the eye -she said, ‘It is not possible, sir, I suppose--you have not come here, -I mean, out of any reason connected with a--a knot of velvet, for -instance?’ - -I started, and involuntarily advanced a step towards her. ‘A knot of -velvet!’ I exclaimed, with emotion. ‘Mon Dieu! Then I was not mistaken! -I have come to the right house, and you--you know something of this! -Madame,’ I continued impulsively, ‘that knot of velvet? Tell me what it -means, I implore you!’ - -She seemed alarmed by my violence, retreating a step or two, and looking -at me haughtily, yet with a kind of shame-facedness. ‘Believe me, it -means nothing,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I beg you to understand that, sir. -It was a foolish jest.’ - -‘A jest?’ I said. ‘It fell from this window.’ - -‘It was a jest, sir,’ she answered stubbornly. But I could see that, -with all her pride, she was alarmed; her face was troubled, and there -were tears in her eyes. And this rendered me under the circumstances -only the more persistent. - -‘I have the velvet here, madame,’ I said. ‘You must tell me more about -it.’ - -She looked at me with a weightier impulse of anger than she had yet -exhibited. ‘I do not think you know to whom you are speaking,’ she said, -breathing fast. ‘Leave the room, sir, and at once! I have told you it -was a jest. If you are a gentleman you will believe me, and go.’ And she -pointed to the door. - -But I held my ground, with an obstinate determination to pierce the -mystery. ‘I am a gentleman, madame,’ I said, ‘and yet I must know more. -Until I know more I cannot go.’ - -‘Oh, this is insufferable!’ she cried, looking round as if for a way of -escape; but I was between her and the only door. ‘This is unbearable! -The knot was never intended for you, sir. And what is more, if M. de -Bruhl comes and finds you here, you will repent it bitterly.’ - -I saw that she was at least as much concerned on her own account as on -mine, and thought myself justified under the circumstances in taking -advantage of her fears. I deliberately laid my cap on the table which -stood beside me. ‘I will go madame,’ I said, looking at her fixedly, -‘when I know all that you know about this knot I hold, and not before. -If you are unwilling to tell me, I must wait for M. de Bruhl, and ask -him.’ - -She cried out ‘Insolent!’ and looked at me as if in her rage and dismay -she would gladly have killed me; being, I could see, a passionate woman. -But I held my ground, and after a moment she spoke. ‘What do you want to -know?’ she said, frowning darkly. - -‘This knot--how did it come to lie in the street below your window? I -want to know that first.’ - -‘I dropped it,’ she answered sullenly. - -‘Why?’ I said. - -‘Because--’ And then she stopped and looked at me, and then again looked -down, her face crimson. ‘Because, if you must know,’ she continued -hurriedly, tracing a pattern on the table with her finger, ‘I saw it -bore the words “A MOI.” I have been married only two months, and I -thought my husband might find it--and bring it to me. It was a silly -fancy.’ - -‘But where did you get it?’ I asked, and I stared at her in growing -wonder and perplexity. For the more questions I put, the further, it -seemed to me, I strayed from my object. - -‘I picked it up in the Ruelle d’Arcy,’ she answered, tapping her foot -on the floor resentfully. ‘It was the silly thing put it into my head -to--to do what I did. And now, have you any more questions, sir?’ - -‘One only,’ I said, seeing it all clearly enough. ‘Will you tell me, -please, exactly where you found it?’ - -‘I have told you. In the Ruelle d’Arcy, ten paces from the Rue de -Valois. Now, sir, will you go?’ - -‘One word, madame. Did--’ - -But she cried, ‘Go, sir, go! go!’ so violently, that after making one -more attempt to express my thanks, I thought it better to obey her. I -had learned all she knew; I had solved the puzzle. But, solving it, -I found myself no nearer to the end I had in view, no nearer to -mademoiselle. I closed the door with a silent bow, and began to descend -the stairs, my mind full of anxious doubts and calculations. The velvet -knot was the only clue I possessed, but was I right; in placing any -dependence on it? I knew now that, wherever it had originally lain, it -had been removed once. If once, why not twice? why not three times? - - - -CHAPTER IX. THE HOUSE IN THE RUELLE D’ARCY. - -I had not gone down half a dozen steps before I heard a man enter the -staircase from the street, and begin to ascend. It struck me at once -that this might be M. de Bruhl; and I realised that I had not left -madame’s apartment a moment too soon. The last thing I desired, -having so much on my hands, was to embroil myself with a stranger, and -accordingly I quickened my pace, hoping to meet him so near the foot -of the stairs as to leave him in doubt whether I had been visiting the -upper or lower part of the house. The staircase was dark, however, and -being familiar with it, he had the advantage over me. He came leaping up -two steps at a time, and turning the angle abruptly, surprised me before -I was clear of the upper flight. - -On seeing me, he stopped short and stared; thinking at first, I fancy, -that he ought to recognise me. When he did not, he stood back a pace. -‘Umph!’ he said. ‘Have you been--have you any message for me, sir?’ - -‘No,’ I said, ‘I have not.’ - -He frowned. ‘I am M. de Bruhl,’ he said. - -‘Indeed?’ I muttered, not knowing what else to say. - -‘You have been--’ - -‘Up your stairs, sir? Yes. In error,’ I answered bluntly. - -He gave a kind of grunt at that, and stood aside, incredulous and -dissatisfied, yet uncertain how to proceed. I met his black looks with -a steady countenance, and passed by him, becoming aware, however, as I -went on down the stairs that he had turned and was looking after me. He -was a tall, handsome man, dark, and somewhat ruddy of complexion, and -was dressed in the extreme of Court fashion, in a suit of myrtle-green -trimmed with sable. He carried also a cloak lined with the same on his -arm. Beyond looking back when I reached the street, to see that he did -not follow me, I thought no more of him. But we were to meet again, and -often. Nay, had I then known all that was to be known I would have gone -back and--But of that in another place. - -The Rue de Valois, to which a tradesman, who was peering cautiously out -of his shop, directed me, proved to be one of the main streets of -the city, narrow and dirty, and darkened by overhanging eaves and -signboards, but full of noise and bustle. One end of it opened on the -PARVIS of the Cathedral; the other and quieter end appeared to abut on -the west gate of the town. Feeling the importance of avoiding notice in -the neighbourhood of the house I sought, I strolled into the open space -in front of the Cathedral, and accosting two men who stood talking -there, learned that the Ruelle d’Arcy was the third lane on the right -of the Rue de Valois, and some little distance along it. Armed with this -information I left them, and with my head bent down, and my cloak drawn -about the lower part of my face, as if I felt the east wind, I proceeded -down the street until I reached the opening of the lane. Without looking -up I turned briskly into it. - -When I had gone ten paces past the turning, however, I stopped and, -gazing about me, began to take in my surroundings as fast as I could. -The lane, which seemed little frequented, was eight or nine feet wide, -unpaved, and full of ruts. The high blank wall of a garden rose on one -side of it, on the other the still higher wall of a house; and both -were completely devoid of windows, a feature which I recognised with the -utmost dismay. For it completely upset all my calculations. In vain -I measured with my eye the ten paces I had come; in vain I looked up, -looked this way and that. I was nonplussed. No window opened on the lane -at that point, nor, indeed, throughout its length. For it was bounded to -the end, as far as I could see, by dead-walls as of gardens. - -Recognising, with a sinking heart, what this meant, I saw in a moment -that all the hopes I had raised on Simon Fleix’s discovery were -baseless. Mademoiselle had dropped the velvet bow, no doubt, but not -from a window. It was still a clue, but one so slight and vague as to be -virtually useless, proving only that she was in trouble and in need of -help; perhaps that she had passed through this lane on her way from one -place of confinement to another. - -Thoroughly baffled and dispirited, I leant for awhile against the wall, -brooding over the ill-luck which seemed to attend me in this, as in -so many previous adventures. Nor was the low voice of conscience, -suggesting that such failures arose from mismanagement rather than -from ill-luck, slow to make itself heard. I reflected that if I had not -allowed myself to be robbed of the gold token, mademoiselle would have -trusted me; that if I had not brought her to so poor an abode as my -mother’s, she would not have been cajoled into following a stranger; -finally, that if I had remained with her, and sent Simon to attend to -the horses in my place, no stranger would have gained access to her. - -But it has never been my way to accept defeat at the first offer, and -though I felt these self-reproaches to be well deserved, a moment’s -reflection persuaded me that in the singular and especial providence -which had brought the velvet knot safe to my hands I ought to find -encouragement. Had Madame de Bruhl not picked it up it would have -continued to lie in this by-path, through which neither I nor Simon -Fleix would have been likely to pass. Again, had madame not dropped it -in her turn, we should have sought in vain for any, even the slightest, -clue to Mademoiselle de la Vire’s fate or position. - -Cheered afresh by this thought, I determined to walk to the end of the -lane; and forthwith did so, looking sharply about me as I went, but -meeting no one. The bare upper branches of a tree rose here and there -above the walls, which were pierced at intervals by low, strong doors. -These doors I carefully examined, but without making any discovery; -all were securely fastened, and many seemed to have been rarely opened. -Emerging at last and without result on the inner side of the city -ramparts, I turned, and moodily retraced my steps through the lane, -proceeding more slowly as I drew near to the Rue de Valois. This time, -being a little farther from the street, I made a discovery. - -The corner house, which had its front on the Rue Valois, presented, as -I have said, a dead, windowless wall to the lane; but from my present -standpoint I could see the upper part of the back of this house--that -part of the back, I mean, which rose above the lower garden-wall that -abutted on it--and in this there were several windows. The whole of two -and a part of a third were within the range of my eyes; and suddenly in -one of these I discovered something which made my heart beat high with -hope and expectation. The window in question was heavily grated; that -which I saw was tied to one of the bars. It was a small knot of some -white stuff--linen apparently--and it seemed a trifle to the eye; but -it was looped, as far as I could see from a distance, after the same -fashion as the scrap of velvet I had in my pouch. - -The conclusion was obvious, at the same time that it inspired me with -the liveliest admiration of mademoiselle’s wit and resources. She was -confined in that room; the odds were that she was behind those bars. A -bow dropped thence would fall, the wind being favourable, into the lane, -not ten, but twenty paces from the street. I ought to have been prepared -for a slight inaccuracy in a woman’s estimate of distance. - -It may be imagined with what eagerness I now scanned the house, with -what minuteness I sought for a weak place. The longer I looked, however, -the less comfort I derived from my inspection. I saw before me a gloomy -stronghold of brick, four-square, and built in the old Italian manner, -with battlements at the top, and a small machicolation, little more than -a string-course, above each story; this serving at once to lessen the -monotony of the dead-walls, and to add to the frowning weight of the -upper part. The windows were few and small, and the house looked -damp and mouldy; lichens clotted the bricks, and moss filled the -string-courses. A low door opening from the lane into the garden -naturally attracted my attention; but it proved to be of abnormal -strength, and bolted both at the top and bottom. - -Assured that nothing could be done on that side, and being unwilling to -remain longer in the neighbourhood, lest I should attract attention, I -returned to the street, and twice walked past the front of the house, -seeing all I could with as little appearance of seeing anything as I -could compass. The front retreated somewhat from the line of the street, -and was flanked on the farther side by stables. Only one chimney smoked, -and that sparely. Three steps led up to imposing double doors, which -stood half open, and afforded a glimpse of a spacious hall and a state -staircase. Two men, apparently servants, lounged on the steps, eating -chestnuts, and jesting with one another; and above the door were three -shields blazoned in colours. I saw with satisfaction, as I passed the -second time, that the middle coat was that of Turenne impaling one which -I could not read--which thoroughly satisfied me that the bow of velvet -had not lied; so that, without more ado, I turned homewards, formulating -my plans as I went. - -I found all as I had left it; and my mother still lying in a -half-conscious state, I was spared the pain of making excuses for past -absence, or explaining that which I designed. I communicated the plan -I had formed to Simon Fleix, who saw no difficulty in procuring a -respectable person to stay with Madame de Bonne. But for some time he -would come no farther into the business. He listened, his mouth open -and his eyes glittering, to my plan until I came to his share in it; and -then he fell into a violent fit of trembling. - -‘You want me to fight, monsieur,’ he cried reproachfully, shaking all -over like one in the palsy. ‘You said so the other night. You want to -get me killed! That’s it.’ - -‘Nonsense!’ I answered sharply. ‘I want you to hold the horses!’ - -He looked at me wildly, with a kind of resentment in his face, and yet -as if he were fascinated. - -‘You will drag me into it!’ he persisted. ‘You will!’ - -‘I won’t,’ I said. - -‘You will! You will! And the end I know. I shall have no chance. I am -a clerk, and not bred to fighting. You want to be the death of me!’ he -cried excitedly. - -‘I don’t want you to fight,’ I answered with some contempt. ‘I would -rather that you kept out of it for my mother’s sake. I only want you to -stay in the lane and hold the horses. You will run little more risk than -you do sitting by the hearth here.’ - -And in the end I persuaded him to do what I wished; though still, -whenever he thought of what was in front of him, he fell a-trembling -again, and many times during the afternoon got up and walked to and -fro between the window and the hearth, his face working and his hands -clenched like those of a man in a fever. I put this down at first to -sheer chicken-heartedness, and thought it augured ill for my enterprise; -but presently remarking that he made no attempt to draw back, and that -though the sweat stood on his brow he set about such preparations as -were necessary--remembering also how long and kindly, and without pay or -guerdon, he had served my mother, I began to see that here was something -phenomenal; a man strange and beyond the ordinary, of whom it was -impossible to predicate what he would do when he came to be tried. - -For myself, I passed the afternoon in a state almost of apathy. I -thought it my duty to make this attempt to free mademoiselle, and to -make it at once, since it was impossible to say what harm might come of -delay, were she in such hands as Fresnoy’s; but I had so little hope of -success that I regarded the enterprise as desperate. The certain loss -of my mother, however, and the low ebb of my fortunes, with the -ever-present sense of failure, contributed to render me indifferent to -risks; and even when we were on our way, through by-streets known to -Simon, to the farther end of the Ruelle d’Arcy, and the red and frosty -sunset shone in our faces, and gilded for a moment the dull eaves and -grey towers above us, I felt no softening. Whatever the end, there was -but one in the world whom I should regret, or who would regret me; and -she hung, herself, on the verge of eternity. - -So that I was able to give Simon Fleix his last directions with as -much coolness as I ever felt in my life. I stationed him with the three -horses in the lane--which seemed as quiet and little frequented as in -the morning--near the end of it, and about a hundred paces or more from -the house. - -‘Turn their heads towards the ramparts,’ I said, wheeling them round -myself, ‘and then they will be ready to start. They are all quiet -enough. You can let the Cid loose. And now listen to me, Simon,’ I -continued. ‘Wait here until you see me return, or until you see you are -going to be attacked. In the first case, stay for me, of course; in the -second, save yourself as you please. Lastly, if neither event occurs -before half-past five--you will hear the convent-bell yonder ring at -the half-hour--begone, and take the horses; they are yours, And one -word more,’ I added hurriedly. ‘If you can only get away with one horse, -Simon, take the Cid. It is worth more than most men, and will not fail -you at a pinch.’ - -As I turned away, I gave him one look to see if he understood. It was -not without hesitation that after that look I left him. The lad’s -face was flushed, he was breathing hard, his eyes seemed to be almost -starting from his head. He sat his horse shaking in every limb, and had -all the air of a man in a fit. I expected him to call me back; but he -did not, and reflecting that I must trust him, or give up the attempt, -I went up the lane with my sword under my arm, and my cloak loose on my -shoulders. I met a man driving a donkey laden with faggots. I saw no one -else. It was already dusk between the walls, though light enough in the -open country; but that was in my favour, my only regret; being that as -the town gates closed shortly after half-past five, I could not defer my -attempt until a still later hour. - -Pausing in the shadow of the house while a man might count ten, I -impressed on my memory the position of the particular window which bore -the knot; then I passed quickly into the street, which was still full of -movement, and for a second, feeling myself safe from observation in the -crowd, I stood looking at the front of the house. The door was shut. My -heart sank when I saw this, for I had looked to find it still open. - -The feeling, however, that I could not wait, though time might present -more than one opportunity, spurred me on. What I could do I must do now, -at once. The sense that this was so being heavy upon me, I saw nothing -for it but to use the knocker and gain admission, by fraud if I could, -and if not, by force. Accordingly I stepped briskly across the kennel, -and made for the entrance. - -When I was within two paces of the steps, however, someone abruptly -threw the door open and stepped out. The man did not notice me, and I -stood quickly aside, hoping that at the last minute my chance had come. -Two men, who had apparently attended this first person downstairs, stood -respectfully behind him, holding lights. He paused a moment on the steps -to adjust his cloak, and with more than a little surprise I recognised -my acquaintance of the morning, M. de Bruhl. - -I had scarcely time to identify him before he walked down the steps -swinging his cane, brushed carelessly past me, and was gone. The two -men looked after him awhile, shading their lights from the wind, and one -saying something, the other laughed coarsely. The next moment they threw -the door to and went, as I saw by the passage of their light, into the -room on the left of the hall. - -Now was my time. I could have hoped for, prayed for, expected no better -fortune than this. The door had rebounded slightly from the jamb, and -stood open an inch or more. In a second I pushed it from me gently, slid -into the hall, and closed it behind me. - -The door of the room on the left was wide open, and the light which -shone through the doorway--otherwise the hall was dark--as well as the -voices of the two men I had seen, warned me to be careful. I stood, -scarcely daring to breathe, and looked about me. There was no matting -on the floor, no fire on the hearth. The hall felt cold, damp, and -uninhabited. The state staircase rose in front of me, and presently -bifurcating, formed a gallery round the place. I looked up, and up, and -far above me, in the dim heights of the second floor, I espied a faint -light--perhaps, the reflection of a light. - -A movement in the room on my left warned me that I had no time to lose, -if I meant to act. At any minute one of the men might come out and -discover me. With the utmost care I started on my journey. I stole -across the stone floor of the hall easily and quietly enough, but I -found the real difficulty begin when I came to the stairs. They were of -wood, and creaked and groaned under me to such an extent that, with each -step I trod, I expected the men to take the alarm. Fortunately all went -well until I passed the first corner--I chose, of course, the left-hand -flight--then a board jumped under my foot with a crack which sounded in -the empty hall, and to my excited ears, as loud as a pistol-shot. I was -in two minds whether I should not on the instant make a rush for it, but -happily I stood still. One of the men came out and listened, and I heard -the other ask, with an oath, what it was. I leant against the wall, -holding my breath. - -‘Only that wench in one of her tantrums!’ the man who had come out -answered, applying an epithet to her which I will not set down, but -which I carried to his account in the event of our coming face to face -presently. ‘She is quiet now. She may hammer and hammer, but--’ - -The rest I lost, as he passed through the doorway and went back to his -place by the fire. But in one way his words were of advantage to me. -I concluded that I need not be so very cautious now, seeing that they -would set down anything they heard to the same cause; and I sped on more -quickly, I had just gained the second floor landing when a loud noise -below--the opening of the street door and the heavy tread of feet in the -hall--brought me to a temporary standstill. I looked cautiously over the -balustrade, and saw two men go across to the room on the left. One -of them spoke as he entered, chiding the other knaves, I fancied, for -leaving the door unbarred; and the tone, though not the words, echoing -sullenly up the staircase, struck a familiar chord in my memory. The -voice was Fresnoy’s! - - - -CHAPTER X. THE FIGHT ON THE STAIRS. - -The certainty, which this sound gave me, that I was in the right house, -and that it held also the villain to whom I owed all my misfortunes--for -who but Fresnoy could have furnished the broken coin which had deceived -mademoiselle?--had a singularly inspiriting effect upon me. I felt every -muscle in my body grow on the instant; hard as steel, my eyes more keen, -my ears sharper--all my senses more apt and vigorous. I stole off like -a cat from the balustrade, over which I had been looking, and without a -second’s delay began the search for mademoiselle’s room; reflecting that -though the garrison now amounted to four, I had no need to despair. If I -could release the prisoners without noise--which would be easy were the -key in the lock--we might hope to pass through the hall by a tour de -force of one kind or another. And a church-clock at this moment striking -Five, and reminding me that we had only half an hour in which to do all -and reach the horses, I was the more inclined to risk something. - -The light which I had seen from below hung in a flat-bottomed lantern -just beyond the head of the stairs, and outside the entrance to one -of two passages which appeared to lead to the back part of the house. -Suspecting that M. de Bruhl’s business had lain with mademoiselle, I -guessed that the light had been placed for his convenience. With this -clue and the position of the window to guide me, I fixed on a door on -the right of this passage, and scarcely four paces from the head of the -stairs. Before I made any sign, however, I knelt down and ascertained -that there was a light in the room, and also that the key was not in the -lock. - -So far satisfied, I scratched on the door with my finger-nails, at first -softly, then with greater force, and presently I heard someone in the -room rise. I felt sure that the person whoever it was had taken the -alarm and was listening, and putting my lips to the keyhole I whispered -mademoiselle’s name. - -A footstep crossed the room sharply, and I heard muttering just within -the door. I thought I detected two voices. But I was impatient, and, -getting no answer, whispered in the same manner as before, ‘Mademoiselle -de la Vire, are you there?’ - -Still no answer. The muttering, too, had stopped, and all was still--in -the room, and in the silent house. I tried again. ‘It is I, Gaston de -Marsac,’ I said. ‘Do you hear? I am come to release you.’ I spoke as -loudly as I dared, but most of the sound seemed to come back on me and -wander in suspicious murmurings down the staircase. - -This time, however, an exclamation of surprise rewarded me, and a voice, -which I recognised at once as mademoiselle’s, answered softly: - -‘What is it? Who is there?’ - -‘Gaston de Marsac,’ I answered. ‘Do you need my help?’ - -The very brevity of her reply; the joyful sob which accompanied it, -and which I detected even through the door; the wild cry of -thankfulness--almost an oath--of her companion--all these assured me -at once that I was welcome--welcome as I had never been before--and, so -assuring me, braced me to the height of any occasion which might befall. - -‘Can you open the door? I muttered. All the time I was on my knees, my -attention divided between the inside of the room and the stray sounds -which now and then came up to me from the hall below. ‘Have you the -key?’ - -‘No; we are locked in,’ mademoiselle answered. - -I expected this. ‘If the door is bolted inside,’ I whispered, ‘unfasten -it, if you please!’ - -They answered that it was not, so bidding them stand back a little from -it, I rose and set my shoulder against it. I hoped to be able to burst -it in with only one crash, which by itself, a single sound, might not -alarm the men downstairs. But my weight made no impression upon the -lock, and the opposite wall being too far distant to allow me to get any -purchase for my feet, I presently desisted. The closeness of the door -to the jambs warned me that an attempt to prise it open would be equally -futile; and for a moment I stood gazing in perplexity at the solid -planks, which bid fair to baffle me to the end. - -The position was, indeed, one of great difficulty, nor can I now think -of any way out of it better or other than that which I adopted. Against -the wall near the head of the stairs I had noticed, as I came up, a -stout wooden stool. I stole out and fetched this, and setting it against -the opposite wall, endeavoured in this way to get sufficient purchase -for my feet. The lock still held; but, as I threw my whole weight on the -door, the panel against which I leaned gave way and broke inwards with -a loud, crashing sound, which echoed through the empty house, and might -almost have been beard in the street outside. - -It reached the ears, at any rate, of the men sitting below, and I heard -them troop noisily out and stand in the hall, now talking loudly, and -now listening. A minute of breathless suspense followed--it seemed a -long minute; and then, to my relief, they tramped back again, and I -was free to return to my task. Another thrust, directed a little lower, -would, I hoped, do the business; but to make this the more certain I -knelt down and secured the stool firmly against the wall. As I rose -after settling it, something else, without sound or warning, rose also, -taking me completely by surprise--a man’s head above the top stair, -which, as it happened, faced me. His eyes met mine, and I knew I was -discovered. - -He turned and bundled downstairs again with a scared face, going so -quickly that I could not have caught him if I would, or had had the wit -to try. Of silence there was so longer need. In a few seconds the alarm -would be raised. I had small time for thought. Laying myself bodily -against the door, I heaved and pressed with all my strength; but whether -I was careless in my haste, or the cause was other, the lock did not -give. Instead the stool slipped, and I fell with a crash on the floor at -the very moment the alarm reached the men below. - -I remember that the crash of my unlucky fall seemed to release all the -prisoned noises of the house. A faint scream within the room was but -a prelude, lost the next moment in the roar of dismay, the clatter of -weapons, and volley of oaths and cries and curses which, rolling up from -below, echoed hollowly about me, as the startled knaves rushed to their -weapons, and charged across the flags and up the staircase. I had space -for one desperate effort. Picking myself up, I seized the stool by two -of its legs and dashed it twice against the door, driving in the panel -I had before splintered. But that was all. The lock held, and I had no -time for a third blow. The men were already halfway up the stairs. In a -breath almost they would be upon me. I flung down the useless stool and -snatched up my sword, which lay unsheathed beside me. So far the matter -had gone against us, but it was time for a change of weapons now, and -the end was not yet. I sprang to the head of the stairs and stood there, -my arm by my side and my point resting on the floor, in such an attitude -of preparedness as I could compass at the moment. - -For I had not been in the house all this time, as may well be supposed, -without deciding what I would do in case of surprise, and exactly where -I could best stand on the defensive. The flat bottom of the lamp which -hung outside the passage threw a deep shadow on the spot immediately -below it, while the light fell brightly on the steps beyond. Standing in -the shadow I could reach the edge of the stairs with my point, and swing -the blade freely, without fear of the balustrade; and here I posted -myself with a certain grim satisfaction as Fresnoy, with his three -comrades behind him, came bounding up the last flight. - -They were four to one, but I laughed to see how, not abruptly, but -shamefacedly and by degrees, they came to a stand halfway up the flight, -and looked at me, measuring the steps and the advantage which the light -shining in their eyes gave me. Fresnoy’s ugly face was rendered uglier -by a great strip of plaister which marked the place where the hilt of -my sword had struck him in our last encounter at Chize; and this and the -hatred he bore to me gave a peculiar malevolence to his look. The deaf -man Matthew, whose savage stolidity had more than once excited my anger -on our journey, came next to him, the two strangers whom I had seen in -the hall bringing up the rear. Of the four, these last seemed the most -anxious to come to blows, and had Fresnoy not barred the way with his -hand we should have crossed swords without parley. - -‘Halt, will you!’ he cried, with an oath, thrusting one of them back. -And then to me he said, ‘So, so, my friend! It is you, is it?’ - -I looked at him in silence, with a scorn which knew no bounds, and did -not so much as honour him by raising my sword, though I watched him -heedfully. - -‘What are you doing here? he continued, with an attempt at bluster. - -Still I would not answer him, or move, but stood looking down at him. -After a moment of this, he grew restive, his temper being churlish and -impatient at the best. Besides, I think he retained just so much of a -gentleman’s feelings as enabled him to understand my contempt and smart -under it. He moved a step upward, his brow dark with passion. - -‘You beggarly son of a scarecrow!’ he broke out on a sudden, adding a -string of foul imprecations, ‘will you speak, or are you going to wait -to be spitted where you stand? If we once begin, my bantam, we shall not -stop until we have done your business! If you have anything to say, say -it, and--’ But I omit the rest of his speech, which was foul beyond the -ordinary. - -Still I did not move or speak, but looked at him unwavering, though it -pained me to think the women heard. He made a last attempt.’ Come, old -friend,’ he said, swallowing his anger again, or pretending to do so, -and speaking with a vile bonhomie which I knew to be treacherous, ‘if -we come to blows we shall give you no quarter. But one chance you shall -have, for the sake of old days when we followed Conde. Go! Take the -chance, and go. We will let you pass, and that broken door shall be the -worst of it. That is more,’ he added with a curse, ‘than I would do for -any other man in your place, M. de Marsac.’ - -A sudden movement and a low exclamation in the room behind me showed -that his words were heard there; and these sounds being followed -immediately by a noise as of riving wood, mingled with the quick -breathing of someone hard at work, I judged that the women were striving -with the door--enlarging the opening it might be. I dared not look -round, however, to see what progress they made, nor did I answer -Fresnoy, save by the same silent contempt, but stood watching the men -before me with the eye of a fencer about to engage. And I know nothing -more keen, more vigilant, more steadfast than that. - -It was well I did, for without signal or warning the group wavered a -moment, as though retreating, and the next instant precipitated itself -upon me. Fortunately, only two could engage me at once, and Fresnoy, I -noticed, was not of the two who dashed forward up the steps. One of the -strangers forced himself to the front, and, taking the lead, pressed me -briskly, Matthew seconding him in appearance, while really watching -for an opportunity of running in and stabbing me at close quarters, a -manoeuvre I was not slow to detect. - -That first bout lasted half a minute only. A fierce exultant joy ran -through me as the steel rang and grated, and I found that I had not -mistaken the strength of wrist or position. The men were mine. They -hampered one another on the stairs, and fought in fetters, being unable -to advance or retreat, to lunge with freedom, or give back without fear. -I apprehended greater danger from Matthew than from my actual opponent, -and presently, watching my opportunity, disarmed the latter by a strong -parade, and sweeping Matthew’s sword aside by the same movement, slashed -him across the forehead; then, drawing back a step, gave my first -opponent the point. He fell in a heap on the floor, as good as dead, -and Matthew, dropping his sword, staggered backwards and downwards into -Fresnoy’s arms. - -‘Bonne Foi! France et Bonne Foi!’ It seemed to me that I bad not spoken, -that I had plied steel in grimmest silence; and yet the cry still rang -and echoed in the roof as I lowered my point, and stood looking grimly -down at them. Fresnoy’s face was disfigured with rage and chagrin. They -were now but two to one, for Matthew, though his wound was slight, was -disabled by the blood which ran down into his eyes and blinded him. -‘France et Bonne Foi!’ - -‘Bonne Foi and good sword!’ cried a voice behind me. And looking swiftly -round, I saw mademoiselle’s face thrust through the hole in the door. -Her eyes sparkled with a fierce light, her lips were red beyond the -ordinary, and her hair, loosened and thrown into disorder by her -exertions, fell in thick masses about her white cheeks, and gave her the -aspect of a war-witch, such as they tell of in my country of Brittany. -‘Good sword!’ she cried again, and clapped her hands. - -‘But better board, mademoiselle!’ I answered gaily. Like most of the -men of my province, I am commonly melancholic, but I have the habit of -growing witty at such times as these. ‘Now, M. Fresnoy,’ I continued, -‘I am waiting your convenience. Must I put on my cloak to keep myself -warm?’ - -He answered by a curse, and stood looking at me irresolutely. ‘If you -will come down,’ he said. - -‘Send your man away and I will come,’ I answered briskly. ‘There -is space on the landing, and a moderate light. But I must be quick. -Mademoiselle and I are due elsewhere, and we are late already.’ - -Still he hesitated. Still he looked at the man lying at his feet--who -had stretched himself out and passed, quietly enough, a minute -before--and stood dubious, the most pitiable picture of cowardice -and malice--he being ordinarily a stout man--I ever saw. I called him -poltroon and white-feather, and was considering whether I had not better -go down to him, seeing that our time must be up, and Simon would be -quitting his post, when a cry behind me caused me to turn, and I saw -that mademoiselle was no longer looking through the opening in the door. - -Alarmed on her behalf, as I reflected that there might be other doors to -the room, and the men have other accomplices in the house, I sprang to -the door to see, but had basely time to send a single glance round-the -interior--which showed me only that the room was still occupied--before -Fresnoy, taking advantage of my movement and of my back being turned, -dashed up the stairs, with his comrade at his heels, and succeeded in -pinning me into the narrow passage where I stood. - -I had scarcely time, indeed, to turn and put myself on guard before he -thrust at me. Nor was that all. The superiority in position no longer -lay with me. I found myself fighting between walls close to the opening -in the door, through which the light fell athwart my eyes, baffling and -perplexing me. Fresnoy was not slow to see the aid this gave him, and -pressed me hard and desperately; so that we played for a full minute at -close quarters, thrusting and parrying, neither of us having room to use -the edge, or time to utter word or prayer. - -At this game we were so evenly matched that for a time the end was hard -to tell. Presently, however, there came a change. My opponent’s habit -of wild living suited ill with a prolonged bout, and as his strength and -breath failed and he began to give ground I discerned I had only to wear -him out to have him at my mercy. He felt this himself, and even by that -light I saw the sweat spring in great drops to his forehead, saw the -terror grow in his eyes. Already I was counting him a dead man and the -victory mine, when something hashed behind his blade, and his comrade’s -poniard, whizzing past his shoulder, struck me fairly on the chin, -staggering me and hurling me back dizzy and half-stunned, uncertain what -had happened to me. - -Sped an inch lower it, would have done its work and finished mine. Even -as it was, my hand going up as I reeled back gave Fresnoy an opening, of -which he was not slow to avail himself. He sprang forward, lunging at me -furiously, and would have run me through there and then, and ended the -matter, bad not his foot, as he advanced, caught in the stool, which -still lay against the wall. He stumbled, his point missed my hip by a -hair’s breadth, and he himself fell all his length on the floor, his -rapier breaking off short at the hilt. - -His one remaining backer stayed to cast a look at him, and that was all. -The man fled, and I chased him as far as the head of the stairs; where -I left him, assured by the speed and agility he displayed in clearing -flight after flight that I had nothing to fear from him. Fresnoy lay, -apparently stunned, and completely at my mercy. I stood an instant -looking down at him, in two minds whether I should not run him through. -But the memory of old days, when he had played his part in more -honourable fashion and shown a coarse good-fellowship in the field, held -my hand; and flinging a curse at him, I turned in anxious haste to the -door, the centre of all this bloodshed and commotion. The light still -shone through the breach in the panel, but for some minutes--since -Fresnoy’s rush up the stairs, indeed--I had heard no sound from -this quarter. Now, looking in with apprehensions which grew with the -continuing silence, I learned the reason. The room was empty! - -Such a disappointment in the moment of triumph was hard to bear. I saw -myself, after all done and won, on the point of being again outwitted, -distanced, it might be fooled. In frantic haste and excitement I -snatched up the stool beside me, and, dashing it twice against the lock, -forced it at last to yield. The door swung open, and I rushed into the -room, which, abandoned by those who had so lately occupied it, presented -nothing to detain me. I cast a single glance round, saw that it was -squalid, low-roofed, unfurnished, a mere prison; then swiftly crossing -the floor, I made for a door at the farther end, which my eye had marked -from the first. A candle stood flaring and guttering on a stool, and as -I passed I took it up. - -Somewhat to my surprise the door yielded to my touch. In trembling -haste--for what might not befall the women while I fumbled with doors -or wandered in passages?--I flung it wide, and passing through it, found -myself at the head of a narrow, mean staircase, leading, doubtless, to -the servants’ offices. At this, and seeing no hindrance before me, I -took heart of grace, reflecting that mademoiselle might have escaped -from the house this way. Though it would now be too late to quit the -city, I might still overtake her, and all end well. Accordingly I -hurried down the stairs, shading my candle as I went from a cold draught -of air which met me, and grew stronger as I descended; until reaching -the bottom at last, I came abruptly upon an open door, and an old, -wrinkled, shrivelled woman. - -The hag screamed at sight of me, and crouched down on the floor; and -doubtless, with my drawn sword, and the blood dripping from my chin -and staining all the front of my doublet, I looked fierce and uncanny -enough. But I felt it was no time for sensibility--I was panting to be -away--and I demanded of her sternly where they were. She seemed to have -lost her voice--through fear, perhaps--and for answer only stared at me -stupidly; but on my handling my weapon with some readiness she so far -recovered her senses as to utter two loud screams, one after the other, -and point to the door beside her. I doubted her; and yet I thought in -her terror she must be telling the truth, the more as I saw no other -door. In any case I must risk it, so, setting the candle down on the -step beside her, I passed out. - -For a moment the darkness was so intense that I felt my way with my -sword before me, in absolute ignorance where I was or on what my foot -might next rest. I was at the mercy of anyone who chanced to be lying -in wait for me; and I shivered as the cold damp wind struck my cheek and -stirred my hair. But by-and-by, when I had taken two or three steps, my -eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, and I made, out the naked boughs of -trees between myself and the sky, and guessed that I was in a garden. My -left hand, touching a shrub, confirmed me in this belief, and in another -moment I distinguished something like the outline of a path stretching -away before me. Following it rapidly--as rapidly as I dared--I came to -a corner, as it seemed to me, turned it blindly, and stopped short, -peeping into a curtain of solid blackness which barred my path, and -overhead mingled confusedly with the dark shapes of trees. But this, -too, after a brief hesitation, I made out to be a wall. Advancing to -it with outstretched hands, I felt the woodwork of a door, and, groping -about, lit presently on a loop of cord. I pulled at this, the door -yielded, and I went out. - -I found myself in a narrow, dark lane, and looking up and down -discovered, what I might have guessed before, that it, was the Ruelle -d’Arcy. But mademoiselle? Fanchette? Simon? Where were they? No one was -to be seen, Tormented by doubts, I lifted up my voice and called on them -in turn; first on mademoiselle, then on Simon Fleix. In vain; I got no -answer. High up above me I saw, as I stood back a little, lights moving -in the house I had left; and the suspicion that, after all, the enemy -had foiled me grew upon me. Somehow they had decoyed mademoiselle to -another part of the house, and then the old woman had misled me! - -I turned fiercely to the door, which I had left ajar, resolved to -re-enter by the way I had come, and have an explanation whether or no. -To my surprise--for I had not moved six paces from the door nor heard -the slightest sound--I found it not; only closed but bolted--bolted both -at top and bottom, as I discovered on trying it. - -I fell on that to kicking it furiously, desperately; partly in a tempest -of rage and chagrin, partly in the hope that I might frighten the old -woman, if it was she who had closed it, into opening it again. In vain, -of course; and presently I saw this and desisted, and, still in a whirl -of haste and excitement, set off running towards the place where I had -left Simon Fleix and the horses. It was fully six o’clock as I judged; -but some faint hope that I might find him there with mademoiselle and -her woman still lingered in my mind. I reached the end of the lane, I -ran to the very foot; of the ramparts, I looked right and left. In vain. -The place was dark, silent, deserted. - -I called ‘Simon! Simon! Simon Fleix!’ but my only answer was -the soughing of the wind in the eaves, and the slow tones of the -convent-bell striking Six. - - - -CHAPTER XI. THE MAN AT THE DOOR. - -There are some things, not shameful in themselves, which it shames -one to remember, and among these I count the succeeding hurry and -perturbation of that night: the vain search, without hope or clue, to -which passion impelled me, and the stubborn persistence with which -I rushed frantically from place to place long after the soberness of -reason would have had me desist. There was not, it seems to me, looking -back now, one street or alley, lane or court, in Blois which I did not -visit again and again in my frantic wanderings; not a beggar skulking -on foot that night whom I did not hunt down and question; not a wretched -woman sleeping in arch or doorway whom I did not see and scrutinise. I -returned to my mother’s lodging again and again, always fruitlessly. I -rushed to the stables and rushed away again, or stood and listened -in the dark, empty stalls, wondering what had happened, and torturing -myself with suggestions of this or that. And everywhere, not only at -the North-gate, where I interrogated the porters and found that no party -resembling that which I sought had passed out, but on the PARVIS of the -Cathedral, where a guard was drawn up, and in the common streets, where -I burst in on one group and another with my queries, I ran the risk of -suspicion and arrest, and all that might follow thereon. - -It was strange indeed that I escaped arrest. The wound in my chin still -bled at intervals, staining my doublet; and as I was without my cloak, -which I had left in the house in the Rue Valois, I had nothing to cover -my disordered dress. I was keenly, fiercely anxious. Stray passers -meeting me in the glare of a torch, or seeing me hurry by the great -braziers which burned where four streets met, looked askance at me and -gave me the wall; while men in authority cried to me to stay and answer -their questions. I ran from the one and the other with the same savage -impatience, disregarding everything in the feverish anxiety which -spurred me on and impelled me to a hundred imprudences, such as at my -age I should have blushed to commit. Much of this feeling was due, no -doubt, to the glimpse I had had of mademoiselle, and the fiery words she -had spoken; more, I fancy, to chagrin and anger at the manner in which -the cup of success had been dashed at the last moment from my lips. - -For four hours I wandered through the streets, now hot with purpose, -now seeking aimlessly. It was ten o’clock when at length I gave up the -search, and, worn out both in body and mind, climbed the stairs at my -mother’s lodgings and entered her room. An old woman sat by the fire, -crooning softly to herself, while she stirred something in a black pot. -My mother lay in the same heavy, deep sleep in which I had left her. I -sat down opposite the nurse (who cried out at my appearance) and asked -her dully for some food. When I had eaten it, sitting in a kind of -stupor the while, the result partly of my late exertions, and partly of -the silence which prevailed round me, I bade the woman call me if any -change took place; and then going heavily across to the garret Simon -had occupied, I lay down on his pallet, and fell into a sound, dreamless -sleep. - -The next day and the next night I spent beside my mother, watching the -life ebb fast away, and thinking with grave sorrow of her past and my -future. It pained me beyond measure to see her die thus, in a garret, -without proper attendance or any but bare comforts; the existence which -had once been bright and prosperous ending in penury and gloom, such as -my mother’s love and hope and self-sacrifice little deserved. Her state -grieved me sharply on my own account too, seeing that I had formed none -of those familiar relations which men of my age have commonly formed, -and which console them for the loss of parents and forbears; Nature so -ordering it, as I have taken note, that men look forward rather -than backward, and find in the ties they form with the future full -compensation for the parting strands behind them. I was alone, -poverty-stricken, and in middle life, seeing nothing before me except -danger and hardship, and these unrelieved by hope or affection. This -last adventure, too, despite all my efforts, had sunk me deeper in the -mire; by increasing my enemies and alienating from me some to whom I -might have turned at the worst. In one other respect also it had added -to my troubles not a little; for the image of mademoiselle wandering -alone and unguarded through the streets, or vainly calling on me for -help, persisted in thrusting itself on my imagination when I least -wanted it, and came even between my mother’s patient face and me. - -I was sitting beside Madame de Bonne a little after sunset on the -second day, the woman who attended her being absent on an errand, when -I remarked that the lamp, which had been recently lit, and stood on a -stool in the middle of the room, was burning low and needed snuffing. -I went to it softly, and while stooping over it, trying to improve the -light, heard a slow, heavy step ascending the stairs. The house was -quiet, and the sound attracted my full attention. I raised myself and -stood listening, hoping that this might be the doctor, who had not been -that day. - -The footsteps passed the landing below, but at the first stair of -the next flight the person, whoever it was, stumbled, and made a -considerable noise. At that, or it might be a moment later, the step -still ascending, I heard a sudden rustling behind me, and, turning -quickly with a start, saw my mother sitting up in bed. Her eyes were -open, and she seemed fully conscious; which she had not been for days, -nor indeed since the last conversation I have recorded. But her face, -though it was now sensible, was pinched and white, and so drawn with -mortal fear that I believed her dying, and sprang to her, unable to -construe otherwise the pitiful look in her straining eyes. - -‘Madame,’ I said, hastily passing my arm round her, and speaking with as -much encouragement as I could infuse into my voice, ‘take comfort. I am -here. Your son.’ - -‘Hush!’ she muttered in answer, laying her feeble hand on my wrist and -continuing to look, not at me, but at the door. ‘Listen, Gaston! Don’t -you hear? There it is again. Again!’ - -For a moment I thought her mind still wandered, and I shivered, having -no fondness for hearing such things. Then I saw she was listening -intently to the sound which had attracted my notice. The step had -reached the landing by this time. The visitor, whoever it was, paused -there a moment, being in darkness, and uncertain, perhaps, of the -position of the door; but in a little while I heard him move forward -again, my mother’s fragile form, clasped as it was in my embrace, -quivering with each step he took, as though his weight stirred the -house. He tapped at the door. - -I had thought, while I listened and wondered, of more than one whom this -might be: the leech, Simon Fleix, Madame Bruhl, Fresnoy even. But as the -tap came, and I felt my mother tremble in my arms, enlightenment came -with it, and I pondered no more, I knew as well as if she hail spoken -and told me. There could be only one man whose presence had such power -to terrify her, only one whose mere step, sounding through the veil, -could drag her back to consciousness and fear! And that was the man who -had beggared her, who had traded so long on her terrors. - -I moved a little, intending to cross the floor softly, that when he -opened the door he might find me face to face with him; but she detected -the movement, and, love giving her strength, she clung to my wrist so -fiercely that I had not the heart, knowing how slender was her hold on -life and how near the brink she stood, to break from her. I constrained -myself to stand still, though every muscle grew tense as a drawn -bowstring, and I felt the strong rage rising in my throat and choking me -as I waited for him to enter. - -A log on the hearth gave way with a dull sound startling in the silence. -The man tapped again, and getting no answer, for neither of us spoke, -pushed the door slowly open, uttering before he showed himself the -words, ‘Dieu vous benisse!’ in a voice so low and smooth I shuddered at -the sound. The next moment he came in and saw me, and, starting, stood -at gaze, his head thrust slightly forward, his shoulders bent, his hand -still on the latch, amazement and frowning spite in turn distorting -his lean face. He had looked to find a weak, defenceless woman, whom he -could torture and rob at his will; he saw instead a strong man armed, -whose righteous anger he must have been blind indeed had he failed to -read. - -Strangest thing of all, we had met before! I knew him at once--he me. He -was the same Jacobin monk whom I had seen at the inn on the Claine, and -who had told me the news of Guise’s death! - -I uttered an exclamation of surprise on making this discovery, and my -mother, freed suddenly, as it seemed, from the spell of fear, which had -given her unnatural strength, sank back on the bed. Her grasp relaxed, -and her breath came and went with so loud a rattle that I removed my -gaze from him, and bent over her, full of concern and solicitude. Our -eyes met. She tried to speak, and at last gasped, ‘Not now, Gaston! Let -him--let him--’ - -Her lips framed the word ‘go,’ but she could not give it sound. I -understood, however, and in impotent wrath I waved my hand to him to -begone. When I looked up he had already obeyed me. He had seized the -first opportunity to escape. The door was closed, the lamp burned -steadily, and we were alone. - -I gave her a little Armagnac, which stood beside the bed for such an -occasion, and she revived, and presently opened her eyes. But I saw at -once a great change in her. The look of fear had passed altogether from -her face, and one of sorrow, yet content, had taken its place. She laid -her hand in mine, and looked up at me, being too weak, as I thought, -to speak. But by-and-by, when the strong spirit had done its work, she -signed to me to lower my head to her mouth. - -‘The King of Navarre,’ she murmured-you are sure, Gaston--he will retain -you is your--employments?’ - -Her pleading eyes were so close to mine, I felt no scruples such as some -might have felt, seeing her so near death; but I answered firmly and -cheerfully, ‘Madame, I am assured of it. There is no prince in Europe so -trustworthy or so good to his servants.’ - -She sighed with infinite content, and blessed him in a feeble whisper. -‘And if you live,’ she went on, ‘you will rebuild the old house, Gaston. -The walls are sound yet. And the oak in the hall was not burned. There -is a chest of linen at Gil’s, and a chest with your father’s gold -lace--but that is pledged,’ she added dreamily. ‘I forgot.’ - -‘Madame,’ I answered solemnly, ‘it shall be done--it shall be done as -you wish, if the power lie with me.’ - -She lay for some time after that murmuring prayers, her head supported -on my shoulder. I longed impatiently for the nurse to return, that I -might despatch her for the leech; not that I thought anything could be -done, but for my own comfort and greater satisfaction afterwards, and -that my mother might not die without some fitting attendance. The house -remained quiet, however, with that impressive quietness which sobers the -heart at such times, and I could not do this. And about six o’clock my -mother opened her eyes again. - -‘This is not Marsac,’ she murmured abruptly, her eyes roving from the -ceiling to the wall at the foot of the bed. - -No, Madame,’ I answered, leaning over her, ‘you are in Blois. But I am -here--Gaston, your son.’ - -She looked at me, a faint smile of pleasure stealing over her pinched -face. ‘Twelve thousand livres a year,’ she whispered, rather to herself -than to me, ‘and an establishment, reduced a little, yet creditable, -very creditable.’ For a moment she seemed to be dying in my arms, but -again opened her eyes quickly and looked me in the face. ‘Gaston?’ she -said, suddenly and strangely. ‘Who said Gaston? He is with the King--I -have blessed him; and his days shall be long in the land!’ Then, raising -herself in my arms with a last effort of strength, she cried loudly, -‘Way there! Way for my son, the Sieur de Marsac!’ - -They were her last words. When I laid her down on the bed a moment -later, she was dead, and I was alone. - -Madame de Bonne, my mother, was seventy at the time of her death, having -survived my father eighteen years. She was Marie de Loche de Loheac, -third daughter of Raoul, Sieur de Loheac, on the Vilaine, and by her -great-grandmother, a daughter of Jean de Laval, was descended from the -ducal family of Rohan, a relationship which in after-times, and under -greatly altered circumstances, Henry Duke of Rohan condescended to -acknowledge, honouring me with his friendship on more occasions than -one. Her death, which I have here recorded, took place on the fourth -of January, the Queen-Mother of France, Catherine de Medicis, dying a -little after noon on the following day. - -In Blois, as in every other town, even Paris itself, the Huguenots -possessed at this time a powerful organisation; and with the aid of the -surgeon, who showed me much respect in my bereavement, and exercised in -my behalf all the influence which skilful and honest; men of his craft -invariably possess, I was able to arrange for my mother’s burial in a -private ground about a league beyond the walls and near the village -of Chaverny. At the time of her death I had only thirty crowns in gold -remaining, Simon Fleix, to whose fate I could obtain no clue, having -carried off thirty-five with the horses. The whole of this residue, -however, with the exception of a handsome gratuity to the nurse and a -trifle spent on my clothes, I expended on the funeral, desiring that -no stain should rest on my mother’s birth or my affection. Accordingly, -though the ceremony was of necessity private, and indeed secret, and -the mourners were few, it lacked nothing, I think, of the decency and -propriety which my mother loved; and which she preferred, I have often -heard her say, to the vulgar show that is equally at the command of the -noble and the farmer of taxes. - -Until she was laid in her quiet resting-place I stood in constant fear -of some interruption on the part either of Bruhl, whose connection with -Fresnoy and the abduction I did not doubt, or of the Jacobin monk. -But none came; and nothing happening to enlighten me as to the fate of -Mademoiselle de la Vire, I saw my duty clear before me. I disposed of -the furniture of my mother’s room, and indeed of everything which -was saleable, and raised in this way enough money to buy myself a new -cloak--without which I could not travel in the wintry weather--and to -hire a horse. Sorry as the animal was, the dealer required security, and -I had none to offer. It was only at the last moment, I bethought me of -the fragment of gold chain which mademoiselle had left behind her, and -which, as well as my mother’s rings and vinaigrette, I had kept back -from the sale. This I was forced to lodge with him. Having thus, with -some pain and more humiliation, provided means for the journey, I lost -not an hour in beginning it. On the eighth of January I set oat for -Rosny, to carry the news of my ill-success and of mademoiselle’s -position whither I had looked a week before to carry herself. - - - -CHAPTER XII. MAXIMILIAN DE BETHUNE, BARON DE ROSNY. - -I looked to make the journey to Rosny in two days. But the heaviness of -the roads and the sorry condition of my hackney hindered me so greatly -that I lay the second night at Dreux, and, hearing the way was still -worse between that place and my destination, began to think that I -should be fortunate if I reached Rosny by the following noon. The -country in this part seemed devoted to the League, the feeling -increasing in violence as I approached the Seine. I heard nothing save -abuse of the King of France and praise of the Guise princes, and had -much ado, keeping a still tongue and riding modestly, to pass without -molestation or inquiry. - -Drawing near to Rosny, on the third morning, through a low marshy -country covered with woods and alive with game of all kinds, I began to -occupy myself with thoughts of the reception I was likely to encounter; -which, I conjectured, would be none of the most pleasant. The daring -and vigour of the Baron de Rosny, who had at this time the reputation of -being in all parts of France at once, and the familiar terms on which he -was known to live with the King of Navarre, gave me small reason to hope -that he would listen with indulgence to such a tale as I had to tell. -The nearer I came to the hour of telling it, indeed, the more improbable -seemed some of its parts, and the more glaring my own carelessness in -losing the token, and in letting mademoiselle out of my sight in such -a place as Blois. I saw this so clearly now, and more clearly as the -morning advanced, that I do not know that I ever anticipated anything -with more fear than this explanation; which it yet seemed my duty to -offer with all reasonable speed. The morning was warm, I remember; -cloudy, yet not dark; the air near at hand full of moisture and very -clear, with a circle of mist rising some way off, and filling the woods -with blue distances. The road was deep and foundrous, and as I was -obliged to leave it from time to time in order to pass the worst places, -I presently began to fear that I had strayed into a by-road. After -advancing some distance, in doubt whether I should persevere or turn -back, I was glad to see before me a small house placed at the junction -of several woodland paths. From the bush which hung over the door, and a -water-trough which stood beside it, I judged the place to be an inn; and -determining to get my horse fed before I went farther, I rode up to the -door and rapped on it with my riding-switch. - -The position of the house was so remote that I was surprised to see -three or four heads thrust immediately out of a window. For a moment I -thought I should have done better to have passed by; but the landlord -coming out very civilly, and leading the way to a shed beside the house, -I reflected that I had little to lose, and followed him. I found, as I -expected, four horses tied up in the shed, the bits hanging round their -necks and their girths loosed; while my surprise was not lessened by the -arrival, before I had fastened up my own horse, of a sixth rider, who, -seeing us by the shed, rode up to us, and saluted me as he dismounted. - -He was a tall, strong man in the prime of youth, wearing a plain, almost -mean suit of dust-coloured leather, and carrying no weapons except a -hunting-knife, which hung in a sheath at his girdle. He rode a powerful -silver-roan horse, and was splashed to the top of his high untanned -boots, as if he had come by the worst of paths, if by any. - -He cast a shrewd glance at the landlord as he led his horse into the -shed; and I judged from his brown complexion and quick eyes that he had -seen much weather and lived an out-of-door life. - -He watched me somewhat curiously while I mixed the fodder for my horse; -and when I went into the house and sat down in the first room I came to, -to eat a little bread-and-cheese which I had in my pouch, he joined -me almost immediately. Apparently he could not stomach my poor fare, -however, for after watching me for a time in silence, switching his boot -with his whip the while, he called the landlord, and asked him, in a -masterful way, what fresh meat he had, and particularly if he had any -lean collops, or a fowl. - -The fellow answered that there was nothing. His honour could have some -Lisieux cheese, he added, or some stewed lentils. - -‘His honour does not want cheese,’ the stranger answered peevishly, ‘nor -lentil porridge. And what is this I smell, my friend?’ he continued, -beginning suddenly to sniff with vigour. ‘I swear I smell cooking.’ - -‘It is the hind-quarter of a buck, which is cooking for the four -gentlemen of the Robe; with a collop or two to follow,’ the landlord -explained; and humbly excused himself on the ground that the gentlemen -had strictly engaged it for their own eating. - -‘What? A whole quarter! AND a collop or two to follow!’ the stranger -retorted, smacking his lips. ‘Who are they?’ - -‘Two advocates and their clerks from the Parliament of Paris. They have -been viewing a boundary near here, and are returning this afternoon,’ -the landlord answered. - -‘No reason why they should cause a famine!’ ejaculated the stranger with -energy. ‘Go to them and say a gentleman, who has ridden far, and fasted -since seven this morning, requests permission to sit at their table. A -quarter of venison and a collop or two among four!’ he continued, in a -tone of extreme disgust, ‘It is intolerable! And advocates! Why, at that -rate, the King of France should eat a whole buck, and rise hungry! Don’t -you agree with me, sir?’ he continued, turning on me and putting the -question abruptly. - -He was so comically and yet so seriously angry, and looked so closely at -me as he spoke, that I hastened to say I agreed with him perfectly. - -‘Yet you eat cheese, sir!’ he retorted irritably. - -I saw that, not withstanding the simplicity of his dress, he was a -gentleman, and so, forbearing to take offence, I told him plainly that -my purse being light I travelled rather as I could than as I would. - -‘Is it so?’ he answered hastily. ‘Had I known that, I would have joined -you in the cheese! After all, I would rather fast with a gentleman, than -feast with a churl. But it is too late now. Seeing you mix the fodder, I -thought your pockets were full.’ - -‘The nag is tired, and has done its best,’ I answered. - -He looked at me curiously, and as though he would say more. But the -landlord returning at that moment, he turned to him instead. - -‘Well!’ he said briskly. ‘Is it all right?’ - -‘I am sorry, your honour,’ the man answered, reluctantly, and with a -very downcast air, ‘but the gentlemen beg to be excused.’ - -‘Zounds!’ cried my companion roundly. ‘They do, do they?’ - -‘They say they have no more, sir,’ the landlord continued, faltering, -‘than enough for themselves and a little dog they have with them.’ - -A shout of laughter which issued at that moment from the other room -seemed to show that the quartette were making merry over my companion’s -request. I saw his cheek redden, and looked for an explosion of anger on -his part; but instead he stood a moment in thought in the middle of the -floor, and then, much to the innkeeper’s relief, pushed a stool towards -me, and called for a bottle of the best wine. He pleasantly begged -leave to eat a little of my cheese, which he said looked better than the -Lisieux, and, filling my glass with wine, fell to as merrily as if he -had never heard of the party in the other room. - -I was more than a little surprised, I remember; for I had taken him to -be a passionate man, and not one to sit down under an affront. Still I -said nothing, and we conversed very well together. I noticed, however, -that he stopped speaking more than once, as though to listen; but -conceiving that he was merely reverting to the party in the other room, -who grew each moment more uproarious, I said nothing, and was completely -taken by surprise when he rose on a sudden, and, going to the open -window, leaned out, shading his eyes with his hand. - -‘What is it?’ I said, preparing to follow him. - -He answered by a quiet chuckle. ‘You shall see,’ he added the next -instant. - -I rose, and going to the window looked out over his shoulder. Three -men were approaching the inn on horseback. The first, a great burly, -dark-complexioned man with fierce black eyes and a feathered cap, had -pistols in his holsters and a short sword by his side. The other two, -with the air of servants, were stout fellows, wearing green doublets and -leather breeches. All three rode good horses, while a footman led two -hounds after them in a leash. On seeing us they cantered forward, the -leader waving his bonnet. - -‘Halt, there!’ cried my companion, lifting up his voice when they were -within a stone’s throw of us. ‘Maignan!’ - -‘My lord?’ answered he of the feather, pulling up on the instant. - -‘You will find six horses in the shed there,’ the stranger cried in a -voice of command. ‘Turn out the four to the left as you go in. Give each -a cut, and send it about its business!’ - -The man wheeled his horse before the words were well uttered, and crying -obsequiously ‘that it was done,’ flung his reins to one of the other -riders and disappeared in the shed, as if the order given him were the -most commonplace one in the world. - -The party in the other room, however, by whom all could be heard, were -not slow to take the alarm. They broke into a shout of remonstrance, and -one of their number, leaping from the window, asked with a very fierce -air what the devil we meant. The others thrust out their faces, swollen -and flushed with the wine they had drunk, and with many oaths backed up -his question. Not feeling myself called upon to interfere, I prepared to -see something diverting. - -My companion, whose coolness surprised me, had all the air of being as -little concerned as myself. He even persisted for a time in ignoring the -angry lawyer, and, turning a deaf ear to all the threats and abuse with -which the others assailed him, continued to look calmly at the prospect. -Seeing this, and that nothing could move him, the man who had jumped -through the window, and who seemed the most enterprising of the party, -left us at last and ran towards the stalls. The aspect of the two -serving-men, however, who rode up grinning, and made as if they would -ride him down, determined him to return; which he did, pale with fury, -as the last of the four horses clattered out, and after a puzzled look -round trotted off at its leisure into the forest. - -On this, the man grew more violent, as I have remarked frightened men -do; so that at last the stranger condescended to notice him. - -‘My good sir,’ he said coolly, looking at him through the window as if -he had not seen him before, ‘you annoy me. What is the matter?’ - -The fellow retorted with a vast amount of bluster, asking what the devil -we meant by turning out his horses. - -‘Only to give you and the gentlemen with you a little exercise,’ my -companion answered, with grim humour, and in a severe tone strange in -one so young--‘than which nothing is more wholesome after a full meal. -That, and a lesson in good manners. Maignan,’ he continued, raising -his voice, ‘if this person has anything more to say, answer him. He is -nearer your degree than mine.’ - -And leaving the man to slink away like a whipped dog--for the mean are -ever the first to cringe--my friend turned from the window. Meeting my -eyes as he went back to his seat, he laughed. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘what do -you think?’ - -‘That the ass in the lion’s skin is very well till it meets the lion,’ I -answered. - -He laughed again, and seemed pleased, as I doubt not he was. ‘Pooh, -pooh!’ he said. ‘It passed the time, and I think I am quits with my -gentlemen now. But I must be riding. Possibly our roads may lie for a -while in the same direction, sir?’ And he looked at me irresolutely. - -I answered cautiously that I was going to the town of Rosny. - -‘You are not from Paris?’ he continued, still looking at me. - -‘No,’ I answered. ‘I am from the south.’ - -‘From Blois, perhaps?’ - -I nodded. - -‘Ah!’ he said, making no comment, which somewhat surprised me, all men -at this time desiring news, and looking to Blois for it. ‘I am riding -towards Rosny also. Let us be going.’ - -But I noticed that as we got to horse, the man he called Maignan holding -his stirrup with much formality, he turned and looked at me more than -once with an expression in his eye which I could not interpret; so -that, being in an enemy’s country, where curiosity was a thing to be -deprecated, I began to feel somewhat uneasy. However, as he presently -gave way to a fit of laughter, and seemed to be digesting his late -diversion at the inn, I thought no more of it, finding him excellent -company and a man of surprising information. - -Notwithstanding this my spirits began to flag as I approached Rosny; and -as on such occasions nothing is more trying than the well-meant rallying -of a companion ignorant of our trouble, I felt rather relief than regret -when he drew rein at four cross-roads a mile or so short of the town, -and, announcing that here our paths separated, took a civil leave of me, -and went his way with his servants. - -I dismounted at an inn at the extremity of the town, and, stopping -only to arrange my dress and drink a cup of wine, asked the way to the -Chateau, which was situate, I learned, no more than a third of a mile -away. I went thither on foot by way of an avenue of trees leading up -to a drawbridge and gateway. The former was down, but the gates were -closed, and all the formalities of a fortress in time of war were -observed on my admission, though the garrison appeared to consist only -of two or three serving-men and as many foresters. I had leisure after -sending in my name to observe that the house was old and partly -ruinous, but of great strength, covered in places with ivy, and closely -surrounded by woods. A staid-looking page came presently to me, and led -me up a narrow staircase to a parlour lighted by two windows, looking, -one into the courtyard, the other towards the town. There a tall man was -waiting to receive me, who rose on my entrance and came forward. Judge -of my surprise when I recognised my acquaintance of the afternoon! ‘M. -de Rosny?’ I exclaimed, standing still and looking at him in confusion. - -‘The same, sir,’ he answered, with a quiet smile. ‘You come from the -King of Navarre, I believe? and on an errand to me. You may speak -openly. The king has no secrets from me.’ - -There was something in the gravity of his demeanour as he waited for me -to speak: which strongly impressed me; notwithstanding that he was ten -years younger than myself, and I had seen him so lately in a lighter -mood. I felt that his reputation had not belied him--that here was a -great man; and reflecting with despair on the inadequacy of the tale I -had to tell him, I paused to consider in what terms I should begin. He -soon put an end to this, however. ‘Come, sir,’ he said with impatience. -‘I have told you that you may speak out. You should have been here four -days ago, as I take it. Now you are here, where is the lady?’ - -‘Mademoiselle de la Vire?’ I stammered, rather to gain time than with -any other object. - -‘Tut, tut!’ he rejoined, frowning. ‘Is there any other lady in the -question? Come, sir, speak out. Where have you left her? This is no -affair of gallantry,’ he continued, the harshness of his demeanour -disagreeably surprising me, ‘that you need beat about the bush. The king -entrusted to you a lady, who, I have no hesitation in telling you now, -was in possession of certain State secrets. It is known that she escaped -safely from Chize and arrived safely at Blois. Where is she?’ - -‘I would to Heaven I knew, sir!’ I exclaimed in despair, feeling the -painfulness of my position increased a hundred fold by his manner. ‘I -wish to God I did.’ - -‘What is this?’ he cried in a raised voice. ‘You do not know where she -is? You jest, M. de Marsac.’ - -‘It were a sorry jest,’ I answered, summoning up a rueful smile. And on -that, plunging desperately into the story which I have here set down, I -narrated the difficulties under which I had raised my escort, the manner -in which I came to be robbed of the gold token, how mademoiselle was -trepanned, the lucky chance by which I found her again, and the final -disappointment. He listened, but listened throughout with no word of -sympathy--rather with impatience, which grew at last into derisive -incredulity. When I had done he asked me bluntly what I called myself. - -Scarcely understanding what he meant, I repeated my name. - -He answered, rudely and flatly, that it was impossible. I do not believe -it, sir!’ he repeated, his brow dark. ‘You are not the man. You bring -neither the lady nor the token, nor anything else by which I can test -your story. Nay, sir, do not scowl at me,’ he continued sharply. ‘I am -the mouthpiece of the King of Navarre, to whom this matter is of the -highest importance. I cannot believe that the man whom he would choose -would act so. This house you prate of in Blois, for instance, and the -room with the two doors? What were you doing while mademoiselle was -being removed?’ - -‘I was engaged with the men of the house,’ I answered, striving to -swallow the anger which all but choked me. ‘I did what I could. Had the -door given way, all would have been well.’ - -He looked at me darkly. ‘That is fine talking!’ he said with a sneer. -Then he dropped his eyes and seemed for a time to fall into a brown -study, while I stood before him, confounded by this new view of the -case, furious, yet not knowing how to vent my fury, cut to the heart by -his insults, yet without hope or prospect of redress. - -‘Come’ he said harshly, after two or three minutes of gloomy reflection -on his part and burning humiliation on mine, ‘is there anyone here who -can identify you, or in any other way confirm your story, sir? Until I -know how the matter stands I can do nothing.’ - -I shook my head in sullen shame. I might protest against his brutality -and this judgment of me, but to what purpose while he sheltered himself -behind his master? - -‘Stay!’ he said presently, with an abrupt gesture of remembrance. ‘I had -nearly forgotten. I have some here who have been lately at the King of -Navarre’s Court at St. Jean d’Angely. If you still maintain that you -are the M. de Marsac to whom this commission was entrusted, you will -doubtless have no objection to seeing them?’ - -On this I felt myself placed in a most cruel dilemma if I refused to -submit my case to the proposed ordeal, I stood an impostor confessed. -If I consented to see these strangers, it was probable they would not -recognise me, and possible that they might deny me in terms calculated -to make my position even worse, if that might be. I hesitated but, Rosny -standing inexorable before me awaiting an answer, I finally consented. - -‘Good!’ he said curtly. ‘This way, if you please. They are here. The -latch is tricky. Nay, sir, it is my house.’ - -Obeying the stern motion of his hand, I passed before him into the next -room, feeling myself more humiliated than I can tell by this reference -to strangers. For a moment I could see no one. The day was waning, the -room I entered was long and narrow, and illuminated only by a glowing -fire. Besides I was myself, perhaps, in some embarrassment. I believed -that my conductor had made a mistake, or that his guests had departed, -and I turned towards him to ask for an explanation. He merely pointed -onwards, however, and I advanced; whereupon a young and handsome lady, -who had been seated in the shadow of the great fireplace, rose suddenly, -as if startled, and stood looking at me, the glow of the burning wood -falling on one side of her face and turning her hair to gold. - -‘Well!’ M. de Rosny said, in a voice which sounded a little odd in my -ears. ‘You do not know madame, I think?’ - -I saw that she was a complete stranger to me, and bowed to her without -speaking. The lady saluted me in turn ceremoniously and in silence. - -‘Is there no one else here who should know you?’ M. de Rosny continued, -in a tone almost of persiflage, and with the same change in his voice -which had struck me before; but now it was more marked. ‘If not, M. de -Marsac, I am afraid--But first look round, look round, sir; I would not -judge any man hastily.’ - -He laid his hand on my shoulder as he finished in a manner so familiar -and so utterly at variance with his former bearing that I doubted if I -heard or felt aright. Yet I looked mechanically at the lady, and seeing -that her eyes glistened in the firelight, and that she gazed at me very -kindly, I wondered still more; falling, indeed, into a very confusion -of amazement. This was not lessened but augmented a hundredfold when, -turning in obedience to the pressure of de Rosny’s hand, I saw beside -me, as if she had risen from the floor, another lady--no other than -Mademoiselle de la Vire herself! She had that moment stepped out of the -shadow of the great fireplace, which had hitherto hidden her, and stood -before me curtseying prettily, with the same look on her face and in her -eyes which madame’s wore. - -‘Mademoiselle!’ I muttered, unable to take my eyes from her. - -‘Mais oui, monsieur, mademoiselle,’ she answered, curtseying lower, with -the air of a child rather than a woman. - -‘Here?’ I stammered, my mouth open, my eyes staring. - -‘Here, sir--thanks to the valour of a brave man,’ she answered, speaking -in a voice so low I scarcely heard her. And then, dropping her eyes, -she stepped back into the shadow, as if either she had said too much -already, or doubted her composure were she to say more. She was so -radiantly dressed, she looked in the firelight more like a fairy than -a woman, being of small and delicate proportions; and she seemed in -my eyes so different a person, particularly in respect of the softened -expression of her features, from the Mademoiselle de la Vire whom I had -known and seen plunged in sloughs and bent to the saddle with fatigue, -that I doubted still if I had seen aright, and was as far from -enlightenment as before. - -It was M. de Rosny himself who relieved me from the embarrassment I was -suffering. He embraced me in the most kind and obliging manner, and this -more than once; begging me to pardon the deception he had practised upon -me, and to which he had been impelled partly by the odd nature of our -introduction at the inn, and partly by his desire to enhance the joyful -surprise he had in store for me. ‘Come,’ he said presently, drawing me -to the window, ‘let me show you some more of your old friends.’ - -I looked out, and saw below me in the courtyard my three horses drawn up -in a row, the Cid being bestridden by Simon Fleix, who, seeing me, waved -a triumphant greeting. A groom stood at the head of each horse, and on -either side was a man with a torch. My companion laughed gleefully. -‘It was Maignan’s arrangement,’ he said. ‘He has a quaint taste in such -things.’ - -After greeting Simon Fleix a hundred times, I turned back into the room, -and, my heart overflowing with gratitude and wonder, I begged M. de -Rosny to acquaint me with the details of mademoiselle’s escape. - -‘It was the most simple thing in the world,’ he said, taking me by the -hand and leading me back to the hearth. ‘While you were engaged with -the rascals, the old woman who daily brought mademoiselle’s food grew -alarmed at the uproar, and came into the room to learn what it was. -Mademoiselle, unable to help you, and uncertain of your success, thought -the opportunity too good to be lost. She forced the old woman to show -her and her maid the way out through the garden. This done, they ran -down a lane, as I understand, and came immediately upon the lad with the -horses, who recognised them and helped them to mount. They waited some -minutes for you, and then rode off.’ - -‘But I inquired at the gate,’ I said. - -‘At which gate?’ inquired M. de Rosny, smiling. - -‘The North-gate, of course,’ I answered. - -‘Just so,’ he rejoined with a nod. ‘But they went out through the -West-gate and made a circuit. He is a strange lad, that of yours below -there. He has a head on his shoulder, M. de Marsac. Well, two leagues -outside the town they halted, scarcely knowing how to proceed. By good -fortune, however, a horse-dealer of my acquaintance was at the inn. -He knew Mademoiselle de la Vire, and, hearing whither she was bound, -brought her hither without let or hindrance.’ - -‘Was he a Norman?’ I asked, - -M. de Rosny nodded, smiling at me shrewdly. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘he told -me much about you. And now let me introduce you to my wife, Madame de -Rosny.’ - -He led me up to the lady who had risen at my entrance, and who now -welcomed me as kindly as she had before looked on me, paying me many -pleasant compliments. I gazed at her with interest, having heard much -of her beauty and of the strange manner in which M. de Rosny, being -enamoured of two young ladies, and chancing upon both while lodging in -different apartments at an inn, had decided which he should visit and -make his wife. He appeared to read what was in my mind, for as I bowed -before her, thanking her for the obliging things which she had uttered, -and which for ever bound me to her service, he gaily pinched her ear, -and said, ‘When you want a good wife, M. de Marsac, be sure you turn to -the right.’ - -He spoke in jest, and having his own case only in his mind. But I, -looking mechanically in the direction he indicated, saw mademoiselle -standing a pace or two to my right in the shadow of the great -chimney-piece. I know not whether she frowned more or blushed more; -but this for certain, that she answered my look with one of sharp -displeasure, and, turning her back on me, swept quickly from the room, -with no trace in her bearing of that late tenderness and gratitude which -I had remarked. - - - -CHAPTER XIII. AT ROSNY. - -The morning brought only fresh proofs of the kindness which M. de -Rosny had conceived for me. Awaking early I found on a stool beside -my clothes, a purse of gold containing a hundred crowns; and a youth -presently entering to ask me if I lacked anything, I had at first some -difficulty in recognising Simon Fleix, so sprucely was the lad dressed, -in a mode resembling Maignan’s. I looked at the student more than once -before I addressed him by his name; and was as much surprised by -the strange change I observed in him for it was not confined to his -clothes--as by anything which had happened since I entered the house. I -rubbed my eyes, and asked him what he had done with his soutane. ‘Burned -it, M. de Marsac,’ he answered briefly. - -I saw that he had burned much, metaphorically speaking, besides his -soutane. He was less pale, less lank, less wobegone than formerly, and -went more briskly. He had lost the air of crack-brained disorder which -had distinguished him, and was smart, sedate, and stooped less. Only the -odd sparkle remained in his eyes, and bore witness to the same nervous, -eager spirit within. - -‘What are you going to do, then, Simon?’ I asked, noting these changes -curiously. - -‘I am a soldier,’ he answered, ‘and follow M. de Marsac.’ - -I laughed. ‘You have chosen a poor service, I am afraid,’ I said, -beginning to rise; ‘and one, too, Simon, in which it is possible you may -be killed. I thought that would not suit you,’ I continued, to see what -he would say. But he answered nothing, and I looked at him in great -surprise. ‘You have made up your mind, then, at last?’ I said. - -‘Perfectly,’ he answered. - -‘And solved all your doubts?’ - -‘I have no doubts.’ - -‘You are a Huguenot?’ - -‘That is the only true and pure religion,’ he replied gravely. And with -apparent sincerity and devotion he repeated Beza’s Confession of Faith. - -This filled me with profound astonishment, but I said no more at the -time, though I had my doubts. I waited until I was alone with M. de -Rosny, and then I unbosomed myself on the matter; expressing my surprise -at the suddenness of the conversion, and at such a man, as I had found -the student to be, stating his views so firmly and steadfastly, and with -so little excitement. Observing that M. de Rosny smiled but answered -nothing, I explained myself farther. - -‘I am surprised,’ I said, ‘because I have always heard it maintained -that clerkly men, becoming lost in the mazes of theology, seldom find -any sure footing; that not one in a hundred returns to his old faith, or -finds grace to accept a new one. I am speaking only of such, of course, -as I believe this lad to be--eager, excitable brains, learning much, and -without judgment to digest what they learn.’ - -‘Of such I also believe it to be true,’ M. de Rosny answered, still -smiling. ‘But even on them a little influence, applied at the right -moment, has much effect, M. de Marsac.’ - -‘I allow that,’ I said. ‘But my mother, of whom I have spoken to you, -saw much of this youth. His fidelity to her was beyond praise. Yet her -faith, though grounded on a rock, had no weight with him.’ - -M. de Rosny shook his head, still smiling. - -‘It is not our mothers who convert us,’ he said. - -‘What!’ I cried, my eyes opened. ‘Do you mean--do you mean that -Mademoiselle has done this?’ - -‘I fancy so,’ he answered, nodding. ‘I think my lady cast her spell over -him by the way. The lad left Blois with her, if what you say be true, -without faith in the world. He came to my hands two days later the -stoutest of Huguenots. It is not hard to read this riddle.’ - -‘Such, conversions are seldom lasting,’ I said. - -He looked at me queerly; and, the smile still hovering about his lips, -answered ‘Tush, man! Why so serious? Theodore Beza himself could not -look dryer. The lad is in earnest, and there is no harm done.’ - -And, Heaven knows, I was in no mood to suspect harm; nor inclined -just then to look at the dark side of things. It may be conceived how -delightful it was to me to be received as an equal and honoured guest by -a man, even then famous, and now so grown in reputation as to overshadow -all Frenchmen save his master; how pleasant to enjoy the comforts and -amiabilities of home, from which I had been long estranged; to pour my -mother’s story into Madame’s ears and find comfort in her sympathy; to -feel myself, en fin, once more a gentleman with an acknowledged place -in the world. Our days we spent in hunting, or excursions of some -kind, our evenings in long conversations, which impressed me with an -ever-growing respect for my lord’s powers. - -For there seemed to be no end either to his knowledge of France, or to -the plans for its development, which even then filled his brain, and -have since turned wildernesses into fruitful lands, and squalid towns -into great cities. Grave and formal, he could yet unbend; the most -sagacious of counsellors, he was a soldier also, and loved the seclusion -in which we lived the more that it was not devoid of danger; the -neighbouring towns being devoted to the League, and the general disorder -alone making it possible for him to lie unsuspected in his own house. - -One thing only rendered my ease and comfort imperfect, and that was -the attitude which Mademoiselle de la Vire assumed towards me. Of her -gratitude in the first blush of the thing I felt no doubt, for not only -had she thanked me very prettily, though with reserve, on the evening of -my arrival, but the warmth of M. de Rosny’s kindness left me no choice, -save to believe that she had given him an exaggerated idea of my merits -and services. I asked no more than this. Such good offices left me -nothing to expect or desire; my age and ill-fortune placing me at so -great a disadvantage that, far from dreaming of friendship or intimacy -with her, I did not even assume the equality in our daily intercourse to -which my birth, taken by itself, entitled me. Knowing that I must appear -in her eyes old, poor, and ill-dressed, and satisfied, with having -asserted my conduct and honour, I was careful not to trespass on her -gratitude; and while forward in such courtesies as could not weary -her, I avoided with equal care every appearance of pursuing her, or -inflicting my company upon her. I addressed her formally and upon formal -topics only, such, I mean, as we shared with the rest of our company; -and I reminded myself often that though we now met in the same house -and at the same table, she was still the Mademoiselle de la Vire who had -borne herself so loftily in the King of Navarre’s ante-chamber. This -I did, not out of pique or wounded pride, which I no more, God knows, -harboured against her than against a bird; but that I might not in my -new prosperity forget the light in which such a woman, young, spoiled, -and beautiful, must still regard me. - -Keeping to this inoffensive posture, I was the more hurt when I found -her gratitude fade with the hour. After the first two days, during which -I remarked that she was very silent, seldom speaking to me or looking at -me, she resumed much of her old air of disdain. For that I cared little; -but she presently went farther, and began to rake up the incidents which -had happened at St. Jean d’Angely, and in which I had taken part. She -continually adverted to my poverty while there, to the odd figure I had -cut, and the many jests her friends had made at my expense. She seemed -to take a pleasure positively savage in these, gibing at me sometimes -so bitterly as to shame and pain me, and bring the colour to Madame de -Rosny’s cheeks. - -To the time we had spent together, on the other hand, she never or -rarely referred. One afternoon, however, a week after my arrival at -Rosny, I found her sitting alone in the parlour. I had not known she -was there, and I was for withdrawing at once with a bow and a muttered -apology. But she stopped me with an angry gesture. ‘I do not bite,’ -she said, rising from her stool and meeting my eyes, a red spot in each -cheek. ‘Why do you look at me like that? Do you know, M. de Marsac, that -I have no patience with you.’ And she stamped her foot on the floor. - -‘But, mademoiselle,’ I stammered humbly, wondering what in the world she -meant, ‘what have I done?’ - -‘Done?’ she repeated angrily. ‘Done? It is not what you have done, it is -what you are. I have no patience with you. Why are you so dull, sir? Why -are you so dowdy? Why do you go about with your doublet awry, and your -hair lank? Why do you speak to Maignan as if he were a gentleman? Why -do you look always solemn and polite, and as if all the world were a -preche? Why? Why? Why, I say?’ - -She stopped from sheer lack of breath, leaving me as much astonished as -ever in my life. She looked so beautiful in her fury and fierceness too, -that I could only stare at her and wonder dumbly what it all meant. - -‘Well!’ she cried impatiently, after bearing this as long as she could, -‘have you not a word to say for yourself? Have you no tongue? Have you -no will of your own at all, M. de Marsac?’ - -‘But, mademoiselle,’ I began, trying to explain. - -‘Chut!’ she exclaimed, cutting me short before I could get farther, as -the way of women is. And then she added, in a changed tone, and very -abruptly, ‘You have a velvet knot of mine, sir. Give it me.’ - -‘It is in my room,’ I answered, astonished beyond measure at this sudden -change of subject, and equally sudden demand. - -‘Then fetch it, sir, if you please,’ she replied, her eyes flashing -afresh. ‘Fetch it. Fetch it, I say! It has served its turn, and I prefer -to have it. Who knows but that some day you may be showing it for a -love-knot?’ - -‘Mademoiselle!’ I cried, hotly. And I think that for the moment I was as -angry as she was. - -‘Still, I prefer to have it,’ she answered sullenly, casting down her -eyes. - -I was so much enraged, I went without a word and fetched it, and, -bringing it to her where she stood, in the same place, put it into her -hands. When she saw it some recollection, I fancy, of the day when she -had traced the cry for help on it, came to her in her anger; for she -took it from me with all her bearing altered. She trembled, and held it -for a moment in her hands, as if she did not know what to do with it. -She was thinking, doubtless, of the house in Blois and the peril she had -run there; and, being for my part quite willing that she should think -and feel how badly she had acted, I stood looking at her, sparing her no -whit of my glance. - -‘The gold chain you left on my mother’s pillow,’ I said coldly, seeing -she continued silent, ‘I cannot return to you at once, for I have -pledged it. But I will do so as soon as I can.’ - -‘You have pledged it?’ she muttered, with her eyes averted. - -‘Yes, mademoiselle, to procure a horse to bring me here,’ I replied -drily. ‘However, it, shall be redeemed. In return, there is something I -too would ask.’ - -‘What?’ she murmured, recovering herself with all effort, and looking at -me with something of her old pride and defiance. - -‘The broken coin you have,’ I said. ‘The token, I mean. It is of no use -to you, for your enemies hold the other half. It might be of service to -me.’ - -‘How?’ she asked curtly. - -‘Because some day I may find its fellow, mademoiselle,’ - -‘And then?’ she cried. She looked at me, her lips parted, her eyes -flashing. ‘What then, when you have found its fellow, M. de Marsac?’ - -I shrugged my shoulders. - -‘Bah!’ she exclaimed, clenching her little hand, and stamping her foot -on the floor in a passion I could not understand. ‘That is you! That is -M. de Marsac all over. You say nothing, and men think nothing of you. -You go with your hat in your hand, and they tread on you. They speak, -and you are silent! Why, if I could use a sword as you can, I would keep -silence before no man, nor let any man save the King of France cock his -hat in my presence! But you! There! go, leave me. Here is your coin. -Take it and go. Send me that lad of yours to keep me awake. At any rate -he has brains, he is young, he is a man, he has a soul, he can feel--if -he were anything but a clerk.’ - -She waved me off in such a wind of passion as might have amused me in -another, but in her smacked so strongly of ingratitude as to pain me -not a little. I went, however, and sent Simon to her; though I liked the -errand very ill, and no better when I saw the lad’s face light up at -the mention of her name. But apparently she had not recovered her temper -when he reached her, for he fared no better than I had done; coming away -presently with the air of a whipped dog, as I saw from the yew-tree walk -where I was strolling. - -Still, after that she made it a habit to talk to him more and more; and, -Monsieur and Madame de Rosny being much taken up with one another, there -was no one to check her fancy or speak a word of advice. Knowing her -pride, I had no fears for her; but it grieved me to think that the lad’s -head should be turned. A dozen times I made up my mind to speak to her -on his behalf; but for one thing it was not my business, and for another -I soon discovered that she was aware of my displeasure, and valued it -not a jot. For venturing one morning, when she was in a pleasant humour, -to hint that she treated those beneath her too inhumanly, and with an -unkindness as little becoming noble blood as familiarity, she asked me -scornfully if I did not think she treated Simon Fleix well enough. To -which I had nothing to answer. - -I might here remark on the system of secret intelligence by means of -which M. de Rosny, even in this remote place, received news of all that -was passing in France. But it is common fame. There was no coming or -going of messengers, which would quickly have aroused suspicion in the -neighbouring town, nor was it possible even for me to say exactly by -what channels news came. But come it did, and at all hours of the day. -In this way we heard of the danger of La Ganache and of the effort -contemplated by the King of Navarre for its relief. M. de Rosny not -only communicated these matters to me without reserve, but engaged -my affections by farther proofs of confidence such as might well have -flattered a man of greater importance. - -I have said that, as a rule, there was no coming or going of messengers. -But one evening, returning from the chase with one of the keepers, who -had prayed my assistance in hunting down a crippled doe, I was surprised -to find a strange horse, which had evidently been ridden hard and far, -standing smoking in the yard. Inquiring whose it was, I learned that -a man believed by the grooms to be from Blois had just arrived and was -closeted with the baron. An event so far out of the ordinary course of -things naturally aroused my wonder; but desiring to avoid any appearance -of curiosity, which, if indulged, is apt to become the most vulgar of -vices, I refrained from entering the house, and repaired instead to the -yew-walk. I had scarcely, however, heated my blood, a little chilled -with riding, before the page came to me to fetch me to his master. - -I found M. de Rosny striding up and down his room, his manner so -disordered and his face disfigured by so much grief and horror that I -started on seeing him. My heart sinking in a moment, I did not need to -look at Madame, who sat weeping silently in a chair, to assure myself -that something dreadful had happened. The light was failing, and a lamp -had been brought into the room. M. de Rosny pointed abruptly to a -small piece of paper which lay on the table beside it, and, obeying his -gesture, I took this up and read its contents, which consisted of less -than a score of words. - -‘He is ill and like to die,’ the message ran, ‘twenty leagues south of -La Ganache. Come at all costs. P. M. - -‘Who?’ I said stupidly--stupidly, for already I began to understand. Who -is ill and like to die?’ - -M. de Rosny turned to me, and I saw that the tears were trickling -unbidden down his cheeks. ‘There is but one HE for me,’ he cried. ‘May -God spare that one! May He spare him to France, which needs him, to the -Church, which hangs on him, and to me, who love him! Let him not fall -in the hour of fruition. O Lord, let him not fall!’ And he sank on to -a stool, and remained in that posture with his face in his hands, his -broad shoulders shaken with grief. - -‘Come, sir,’ I said, after a pause sacred to sorrow and dismay; ‘let me -remind you that while there is life there is hope.’ - -‘Hope?’ - -‘Yes, M. de Rosny, hope,’ I replied more cheerfully. ‘He has work to -do. He is elected, called, and chosen; the Joshua of his people, as M. -d’Amours rightly called him. God will not take him yet. You shall see -him and be embraced by him, as has happened a hundred times. Remember, -sir, the King of Navarre is strong, hardy, and young, and no doubt in -good hands.’ - -‘Mornay’s,’ M. de Rosny cried, looking up with contempt in his eye. - -Yet from that moment he rallied, spurred, I think, by the thought that -the King of Navarre’s recovery depended under God on M. de Mornay; whom -he was ever inclined to regard as his rival. He began to make instant -preparations for departure from Rosny, and bade me do so also, telling -me, somewhat curtly and without explanation, that he had need of me. The -danger of so speedy a return to the South, where the full weight of the -Vicomte de Turenne’s vengeance awaited me, occurred to me strongly; and -I ventured, though with a little shame, to mention it. But M. de Rosny, -after gazing at me a moment in apparent doubt, put the objection aside -with a degree of peevishness unusual in him, and continued to press on -his arrangements as earnestly as though they did not include separation -from a wife equally loving and beloved. - -Having few things to look to myself, I was at leisure, when the hour of -departure came, to observe both the courage with which Madame de -Rosny supported her sorrow, ‘for the sake of France,’ and the unwonted -tenderness which Mademoiselle de la Vire, lifted for once above herself, -lavished on her. I seemed to stand--happily in one light, and yet the -feeling was fraught with pain--outside their familiar relations; yet, -having made my adieux as short and formal as possible, that I might -not encroach on other and more sacred ones, I found at the last moment -something in waiting for me. I was surprised as I rode under the gateway -a little ahead of the others, by something small and light falling -on the saddle-bow before me. Catching it before it could slide to the -ground, I saw, with infinite astonishment, that I held in my hand a tiny -velvet bow. - -To look up at the window of the parlour, which I have said was over the -archway, was my first impulse. I did so, and met mademoiselle’s eyes for -a second, and a second only. The next moment she was gone. M. de Rosny -clattered through the gate at my heels, the servants behind him. And we -were on the road. - - - -CHAPTER XIV. M. DE RAMBOUILLET. - -For a while we were but a melancholy party. The incident I have last -related which seemed to admit of more explanations than one--left me -in a state of the greatest perplexity; and this prevailed with me for a -time, and was only dissipated at length by my seeing my own face, as it -were, in a glass. For, chancing presently to look behind me, I observed -that Simon Fleix was riding, notwithstanding his fine hat and feather -and his new sword, in a posture and with an air of dejection difficult -to exaggerate; whereon the reflection that master and man had the same -object in their minds--nay, the thought that possibly he bore in his -bosom a like token to that which lay warm in mine--occurring to me, I -roused myself as from some degrading dream, and, shaking up the Cid, -cantered forward to join Rosny, who, in no cheerful mood himself, was -riding steadily forward, wrapped to his eyes in his cloak. - -The news of the King of Navarre’s illness had fallen on him, indeed, in -the midst of his sanguine scheming with the force of a thunderbolt. -He saw himself in danger of losing at once the master he loved and the -brilliant future to which he looked forward; and amid the imminent crash -of his hopes and the destruction of the system in which he lived, he had -scarcely time to regret the wife he was leaving at Rosny or the quiet -from which he was so suddenly called. His heart was in the South, at La -Ganache, by Henry’s couch. His main idea was to get there quickly at all -risks. The name of the King of Navarre’s physician was constantly on his -lips. ‘Dortoman is a good man. If anyone call save him, Dortoman will,’ -was his perpetual cry. And whenever he met anyone who had the least -appearance of bearing news, he would have me stop and interrogate him, -and by no means let the traveller go until he had given us the last -rumour from Blois--the channel through which all the news from the South -reached us. - -An incident which occurred at the inn that evening cheered him somewhat; -the most powerful minds being prone, I have observed, to snatch at omens -in times of uncertainty. An elderly man, of strange appearance, and -dressed in an affected and bizarre fashion, was seated at table when we -arrived. Though I entered first in my assumed capacity of leader of the -party, he let me pass before him without comment, but rose and solemnly -saluted M. de Rosny, albeit the latter walked behind me and was much -more plainly dressed. Rosny returned his greeting and would have passed -on; but the stranger, interposing with a still lower bow, invited him to -take his seat, which was near the fire and sheltered from the draught, -at the same time making as if he would himself remove to another place. - -‘Nay,’ said my companion, surprised by such an excess of courtesy, ‘I do -not see why I should take your place, sir.’ - -‘Not mine only,’ the old man rejoined, looking at him with a -particularity and speaking with an emphasis which attracted our -attention, ‘but those of many others, who I can assure you will very -shortly yield them up to you, whether they will or not.’ - -M. de Rosny shrugged his shoulders and passed on, affecting to suppose -the old man wandered. But privately he thought much of his words, and -more when he learned that he was an astrologer from Paris, who had the -name, at any rate in this country, of having studied under Nostradamus. -And whether he drew fresh hopes from this, or turned his attention more -particularly as we approached Blois to present matters, certainly he -grew more cheerful, and began again to discuss the future, as though -assured of his master’s recovery. - -‘You have never been to the King’s Court?’ he said presently, following -up, as I judged, a train of thought in his own mind. ‘At Blois, I mean.’ - -‘No; nor do I feel anxious to visit it,’ I answered. ‘To tell you the -truth, M. le Baron,’ I continued with some warmth, ‘the sooner me are -beyond Blois, the better I shall be pleased. I think we run some risk -there, and, besides, I do not fancy a shambles. I do not think I could -see the king without thinking of the Bartholomew, nor his chamber -without thinking of Guise.’ - -‘Tut, tut!’ he said, ‘you have killed a man before now.’ - -‘Many,’ I answered. - -‘Do they trouble you?’ - -‘No, but they were killed in fair fight,’ I replied, ‘That makes a -difference.’ - -‘To you,’ he said drily. ‘But you are not the King of France, you see. -Should you ever come across him,’ he continued, flicking his horse’s -ears, a faint smile on his lips, ‘I will give you a hint. Talk to him of -the battles at Jarnac and Moncontour, and praise your Conde’s father! As -Conde lost the fight and, he won it, the compliment comes home to him. -The more hopelessly a man has lost his powers, my friend, the more -fondly he regards them, and the more highly he prizes the victories he -call no longer gain.’ - -‘Ugh!’ I muttered. - -‘Of the two parties at Court,’ Rosny continued, calmly overlooking my -ill-humour, ‘trust D’Aumont and Biron and the French clique. They are -true to France at any rate. But whomsoever you see consort with the two -Retzs--the King of Spain’s jackals as men name them--avoid him for a -Spaniard and a traitor.’ - -‘But the Retzs are Italians,’ I objected peevishly. - -‘The same thing,’ he answered curtly. ‘They cry, “Vive le Roi!” but -privately they are for the League, or for Spain, or for whatever may -most hurt us; who are better Frenchmen than themselves, and whose leader -will some day, if God spare his life, be King of France.’ - -‘Well, the less I have to do with the one or the other of them, save at -the sword’s point, the better I shall be pleased,’ I rejoined. - -On that he looked at me with a queer smile; as was his way when he had -more in his mind than appeared. And this, and something special in the -tone of his conversation, as well, perhaps, as my own doubts about my -future and his intentions regarding me, gave me an uneasy feeling; -which lasted through the day, and left me only when more immediate peril -presently rose to threaten us. - -It happened in this way. We had reached the outskirts of Blois, and were -just approaching the gate, hoping to pass through it without attracting -attention, when two travellers rode slowly out of a lane, the mouth of -which we were passing. They eyed us closely as they reined in to let -us go by; and M. de Rosny, who was riding with his horse’s head at my -stirrup, whispered me to press on. Before I could comply, however, the -strangers cantered by us, and turning in the saddle when abreast of us -looked us in the face. A moment later one of them cried loudly, ‘It is -he!’ and both pulled their horses across the road, and waited for us to -come up. - -Aware that if M. de Rosny were discovered he would be happy if he -escaped with imprisonment, the king being too jealous of his Catholic -reputation to venture to protect a Huguenot, however illustrious, I saw -that the situation was desperate; for, though we were five to two, -the neighbourhood of the city--the gate being scarcely a bow-shot -off--rendered flight or resistance equally hopeless. I could think of -nothing for it save to put a bold face on the matter, and, M. de Rosny -doing the same, we advanced in the most innocent way possible. - -‘Halt, there!’ cried one of the strangers sharply. ‘And let me tell you, -sir, you are known.’ - -‘What if I am?’ I answered impatiently, still pressing on. ‘Are you -highwaymen, that you stop the way?’ - -The speaker on the other side looked at me keenly, but in a moment -retorted, ‘Enough trifling, sir! Who YOU are I do not know. But the -person riding at your rein is M. de Rosny. Him I do know, and I warn him -to stop.’ - -I thought the game was lost, but to my surprise my companion answered -at once and almost in the same words I had used. ‘Well, sir, and what of -that?’ he said. - -‘What of that?’ the stranger exclaimed, spurring his horse so as still -to bar the way. ‘Why, only this, that you must be a madman to show -yourself on this side of the Loire.’ - -‘It is long since I have seen the other,’ was my companion’s unmoved -answer. - -‘You are M. de Rosny? You do not deny it?’ the man cried in -astonishment. - -‘Certainly I do not deny it,’ M. de Rosny answered bluntly. ‘And more, -the day has been, sir,’ he continued with sudden fire, ‘when few at his -Majesty’s Court would have dared to chop words with Solomon de Bethune, -much less to stop him on the highway within a mile of the palace. But -times are changed with me, sir, and it would seem with others also, if -true men rallying to his Majesty in his need are to be challenged by -every passer on the road.’ - -‘What! Are you Solomon de Bethune?’ the man cried incredulously. -Incredulously, but his countenance fell, and his voice was full of -chagrin and disappointment, - -‘Who else, sir?’ M. de Rosny replied haughtily. ‘I am, and, as far as I -know, I have as much right on this side of the Loire as any other man.’ - -‘A thousand pardons.’ - -‘If you are not satisfied--’ - -‘Nay, M. de Rosny, I am perfectly satisfied.’ - -The stranger repented this with a very crestfallen air, adding, ‘A -thousand pardons’; and fell to making other apologies, doffing his hat -with great respect. ‘I took you, if you will pardon me saying so, for -your Huguenot brother, M. Maximilian,’ he explained. ‘The saying goes -that he is at Rosny.’ - -‘I can answer for that being false,’ M. de Rosny answered peremptorily, -‘for I have just come from there, and I will answer for it he is not -within ten leagues of the place. And now, sir, as we desire to enter -before the gates shut, perhaps you will excuse us.’ With which he bowed, -and I bowed, and they bowed, and we separated. They gave us the road, -which M. de Rosny took with a great air, and we trotted to the gate, and -passed through it without misadventure. - -The first street we entered was a wide one, and my companion took -advantage of this to ride up abreast of me. ‘That is the kind of -adventure our little prince is fond of,’ he muttered. ‘But for my part, -M. de Marsac, the sweat is running down my forehead. I have played the -trick more than once before, for my brother and I are as like as two -peas. And yet it would have gone ill with us if the fool had been one of -his friends.’ - -‘All’s well that ends well,’ I answered in a low voice, thinking it an -ill time for compliments. As it was, the remark was unfortunate, for M. -de Rosny was still in the act of reining back when Maignan called out to -us to say we were being followed. - -I looked behind, but could see nothing except gloom and rain and -overhanging eaves and a few figures cowering in doorways. The servants, -however, continued to maintain that it was so, and we held, without -actually stopping, a council of war. If detected, we were caught in a -trap, without hope of escape; and for the moment I am sure M. do Rosny -regretted that he had chosen this route by Blois--that he had thrust -himself, in his haste and his desire to take with him the latest news, -into a snare so patent. The castle--huge, dark, and grim--loomed before -us at the end of the street in which we were, and, chilled as I was -myself by the sight, I could imagine how much more appalling it must -appear to him, the chosen counsellor of his master, and the steadfast -opponent of all which it represented. - -Our consultation came to nothing, for no better course suggested -itself than to go as we had intended to the lodging commonly used by my -companion. We did so, looking behind us often, and saying more than once -that Maignan must be mistaken. As soon as we had dismounted, however, -and gone in, he showed us from the window a man loitering near; and -this confirmation of our alarm sending us to our expedients again, while -Maignan remained watching in a room without a light, I suggested that I -might pass myself off, though ten years older, for my companion. - -‘Alas!’ he said, drumming with his fingers on the table ‘there are too -many here who know me to make that possible. I thank you all the same.’ - -‘Could you escape on foot? Or pass the wall anywhere, or slip through -the gates early?’ I suggested. - -‘They might tell us at the Bleeding Heart,’ he answered. But I doubt it. -I was a fool, sir, to put my neck into Mendoza’s halter, and that is a -fact. But here is Maignan. What is it, man?’ he continued eagerly. - -‘The watcher is gone, my lord,’ the equerry answered. - -‘And has left no one?’ - -‘No one that I can see.’ - -We both went into the next room and looked from the windows. The man -was certainly not where we had seen him before. But the rain was falling -heavily, the eaves were dripping, the street was a dark cavern with -only here and there a spark of light, and the fellow might be lurking -elsewhere. Maignan, being questioned, however, believed he had gone off -of set purpose. - -‘Which may be read half a dozen ways,’ I remarked. - -‘At any rate, we are fasting,’ M. de Rosny answered. Give me a full man -in a fight. Let us sit down and eat. It is no good jumping in the dark, -or meeting troubles half way.’ - -We were not through our meal, however, Simon Fleix waiting on us with a -pale face, when Maignan came in again from the dark room. ‘My lord,’ he -said quietly, ‘three men have appeared. Two of them remain twenty paces -away. The third has come to the door.’ As he spoke we heard a cautious -summons below, Maignan was for going down, but his master bade him -stand. Let the woman of the house go,’ he said. - -I remarked and long remembered M. de Rosny’s SANG-FROID on this -occasion. His pistols he had already laid on a chair beside him throwing -his cloak over them; and now, while we waited, listening in breathless -silence, I saw him hand a large slice of bread-and-meat to his equerry, -who, standing behind his chair, began eating it with the same coolness. -Simon Fleix, on the other hand, stood gazing at the door, trembling in -every limb, and with so much of excitement and surprise in his attitude -that I took the precaution of bidding him, in a low voice, do nothing -without orders. At the same moment it occurred to me to extinguish two -of the four candles which had been lighted; and I did so, M. de Rosny -nodding assent, just as the muttered conversation which was being -carried on below ceased, and a man’s tread sounded on the stairs. - -It was followed immediately by a knock on the outside of our door. -Obeying my companion’s look, I cried, ‘Enter!’ - -A slender man of middle height, booted and wrapped up, with his face -almost entirely hidden by a fold of his cloak, came in quickly, and -closing the door behind him, advanced towards the table. ‘Which is M. de -Rosny?’ he said. - -Rosny had carefully turned his face from the light, but at the sound -of the other’s voice he sprang up with a cry of relief. He was about to -speak, when the newcomer, raising his hand peremptorily, continued, ‘No -names, I beg. Yours, I suppose, is known here. Mine is not, nor do I -desire it should be. I want speech of you, that is all.’ - -‘I am greatly honoured,’ M. de Rosny replied, gazing at him eagerly. -‘Yet, who told you I was here?’ - -‘I saw you pass under a lamp in the street,’ the stranger answered. ‘I -knew your horse first, and you afterwards, and bade a groom follow you. -Believe me,’ he added, with a gesture of the hand, ‘you have nothing to -fear from me.’ - -‘I accept the assurance in the spirit in which it is offered,’ my -companion answered with a graceful bow, ‘and think myself fortunate -in being recognised’--he paused a moment and then continued--‘by a -Frenchman and a man of honour.’ - -The stranger shrugged his shoulders. ‘Your pardon, then,’ he said, ‘if I -seem abrupt. My time is short. I want to do the best with it I can. Will -you favour me?’ - -I was for withdrawing, but M. de Rosny ordered Maignan to place lights -in the next room, and, apologising to me very graciously, retired -thither with the stranger, leaving me relieved indeed by these peaceful -appearances, but full of wonder and conjectures who this might be, and -what the visit portended. At one moment I was inclined to identify -the stranger with M. de Rosny’s brother; at another with the English -ambassador; and then, again, a wild idea that he might be M. de Bruhl -occurred to me. The two remained together about a quarter of an hour and -then came out, the stranger leading the way, and saluting me politely -as he passed through the room. At the door he turned to say, ‘At nine -o’clock, then?’ - -‘At nine o’clock,’ M. de Rosny replied, holding the door open. ‘You will -excuse me if I do not descend, Marquis?’ - -‘Yes, go back, my friend,’ the stranger answered. And, lighted by -Maignan, whose face on such occasions could assume the most stolid air -in the world, he disappeared down the stairs, and I heard him go out. - -M. de Rosny turned to me, his eyes sparkling with joy, his face and mien -full of animation. ‘The King of Navarre is better,’ he said. ‘He is said -to be out of danger. What do you think of that, my friend?’ - -‘That is the best news I have heard for many a day,’ I answered. And I -hastened to add, that France and the Religion had reason to thank God -for His mercy. - -‘Amen to that,’ my patron replied reverently. ‘But that is not all--that -is not all.’ And he began to walk up and down the room humming the 118th -Psalm a little above his breath-- - - La voici l’heureuse journee - Que Dieu a faite a plein desir; - Par nous soit joie demenee, - Et prenons en elle plaisir. - -He continued, indeed, to walk up and down the floor so long, and with so -joyful a countenance and demeanour, that I ventured, at last to remind -him of my presence, which he had clearly forgotten. ‘Ha! to be sure,’ -he said, stopping short and looking at me with the utmost good-humour. -‘What time is it? Seven. Then until nine o’clock, my friend, I crave -your indulgence. En fin, until that time I must keep counsel. Come, -I am hungry still. Let us sit down, and this time I hope we may not be -interrupted. Simon, set us on a fresh bottle. Ha! ha! VIVENT LE ROI ET -LE ROI DE NAVARRE!’ And again he fell to humming the same psalm-- - - O Dieu eternel, je te prie, - Je te prie, ton roi maintiens: - O Dieu, je te prie et reprie, - Sauve ton roi et l’entretiens! - -doing so with a light in his eyes and a joyous emphasis, which impressed -me the more in a man ordinarily so calm and self-contained. I saw that -something had occurred to gratify him beyond measure, and, believing his -statement that this was not the good news from La Ganache only, I waited -with the utmost interest and anxiety for the hour of nine, which had -no sooner struck than our former visitor appeared with the same air of -mystery and disguise which had attended him before. - -M. de Rosny, who had risen on hearing his step and had taken up his -cloak, paused with it half on and half off, to cry anxiously, ‘All is -well, is it not?’ - -‘Perfectly,’ the stranger replied, with a nod. - -‘And my friend?’ - -Yes, on condition that you answer for his discretion and fidelity.’ And -the stranger glanced involuntarily at me who stood uncertain whether to -hold my ground or retire. - -‘Good,’ M. de Rosny cried. Then he turned to me with a mingled air -of dignity and kindness, and continued: ‘This is the gentleman. M. de -Marsac, I am honoured with permission to present you to the Marquis de -Rambouillet, whose interest and protection I beg you to deserve, for he -is a true Frenchman and a patriot whom I respect.’ - -M. de Rambouillet saluted me politely. ‘Of a Brittany family, I think?’ -he said. - -I assented; and he replied with something complimentary. But afterwards -he continued to look at me in silence with a keenness and curiosity I -did not understand. At last, when M. de Rosny’s impatience had reached -a high pitch, the marquis seemed impelled to add something. ‘You quite -understand M. de Rosny?’ he said. ‘Without saying anything disparaging -of M. de Marsac, who is, no doubt, a man of honour’--and he bowed to me -very low--‘this is a delicate matter, and you will introduce no one into -it, I am sure, whom you cannot trust as yourself.’ - -‘Precisely,’ M. de Rosny replied, speaking drily, yet with a grand -air which fully matched his companion’s. ‘I am prepared to trust this -gentleman not only with my life but with my honour.’ - -‘Nothing more remains to be said then,’ the marquis rejoined, bowing -to me again. ‘I am glad to have been the occasion of a declaration so -flattering to you, sir.’ - -I returned his salute in silence, and obeying M. de Rosny’s muttered -direction put on, my cloak and sword. M. de Rosny took up his pistols. - -‘You will have no need of those,’ the Marquis said with a high glance. - -‘Where we are going, no,’ my companion answered, calmly continuing to -dispose them about him. ‘But the streets are dark and not too safe.’ - -M. de Rambouillet laughed. ‘That is the worst of you Huguenots,’ he -said. ‘You never know when to lay suspicion aside.’ - -A hundred retorts sprang to my lips. I thought of the Bartholomew, of -the French fury of Antwerp, of half a dozen things which make my blood -boil to this day. But M. de Rosny’s answer was the finest of all. -‘That is true, I am afraid,’ he said quietly. ‘On the other hand, you -Catholics--take the late M. de Guise for instance--have the habit of -erring on the other side, I think, and sometimes trust too far.’ - -The marquis, without making any answer to this home-thrust, led the way -out, and we followed, being joined at the door of the house by a couple -of armed lackeys, who fell in behind us. We went on foot. The night was -dark, and the prospect out of doors was not cheering. The streets were -wet and dirty, and notwithstanding all our care we fell continually into -pitfalls or over unseen obstacles. Crossing the PARVIS of the cathedral, -which I remembered, we plunged in silence into an obscure street near -the river, and so narrow that the decrepit houses shut out almost -all view of the sky. The gloom of our surroundings, no less than my -ignorance of the errand on which we were bound, filled me with anxiety -and foreboding. My companions keeping strict silence, however, and -taking every precaution to avoid being recognised, I had no choice but -to do likewise. - -I could think, and no more. I felt myself borne along by an irresistible -current, whither and for what purpose I could not tell; an experience to -an extent strange at my age the influence of the night and the weather. -Twice we stood aside to let a party of roisterers go by, and the -excessive care M. de Rambouillet evinced on these occasions to avoid -recognition did not tend to reassure me or make me think more lightly of -the unknown business on which I was bound. - -Reaching at last an open space, our leader bade us in a low voice be -careful and follow him closely. We did so and crossed in this way and in -single file a narrow plank or wooden bridge; but whether water ran below -or a dry ditch only, I could not determine. My mind was taken up at the -moment with the discovery which I had just made, that the dark building, -looming huge and black before us with a single light twinkling here and -there at great heights, was the Castle of Blois. - - - -CHAPTER XV. VILAIN HERODES. - -All the distaste and misliking I had expressed earlier in the day for -the Court of Blois recurred with fresh force in the darkness and gloom; -and though, booted and travel-stained as we were, I did not conceive it -likely that we should be obtruded on the circle about the king, I felt -none the less an oppressive desire to be through with our adventure, and -away from the ill-omened precincts in which I found myself. The darkness -prevented me seeing the faces of my companions; but on M. de Rosny, who -was not quite free himself, I think, from the influences of the time -and place, twitching my sleeve to enforce vigilance, I noted that the -lackeys had ceased to follow us, and that we three were beginning -to ascend a rough staircase cut in the rock. I gathered, though the -darkness limited my view behind as well as in front to a few twinkling -lights, that we were mounting the scarp from the moat; to the side wall -of the castle; and I was not surprised when the marquis muttered to us -to stop, and knocked softly on the wood of a door. - -M. de Rosny might have spared the touch he had laid on my sleeve, for by -this time I was fully and painfully sensible of the critical position in -which we stood, and was very little likely to commit an indiscretion. I -trusted he had not done so already! No doubt--it flashed across me while -we waited--he had taken care to safeguard himself. But how often, I -reflected, had all safeguards been set aside and all precautions eluded -by those to whom he was committing himself! Guise had thought himself -secure in this very building, which we were about to enter. Coligny had -received the most absolute of safe-conducts from those to whom we -were apparently bound. The end in either case had been the same--the -confidence of the one proving of no more avail than the wisdom of the -other. What if the King of France thought to make his peace with his -Catholic subjects--offended by the murder of Guise--by a second murder -of one as obnoxious to them as he was precious to their arch-enemy in -the South? Rosny was sagacious indeed; but then I reflected with sudden -misgiving that he was young, ambitious, and bold. - -The opening of the door interrupted without putting an end to this -train of apprehension. A faint light shone out; so feebly as to illumine -little more than the stairs at our feet. The marquis entered at once, M. -de Rosny followed, I brought up the rear; and the door was closed by a -man who stood behind it. We found ourselves crowded together at the foot -of a very narrow staircase, which the doorkeeper--a stolid pikeman in a -grey uniform, with a small lanthorn swinging from the crosspiece of -his halberd--signed to us to ascend. I said a word to him, but he only -stared in answer, and M. de Rambouillet, looking back and seeing what I -was about, called to me that it was useless, as the man was a Swiss and -spoke no French. - -This did not tend to reassure me; any more than did the chill roughness -of the wall which my hand touched as I groped upwards, or the smell -of bats which invaded my nostrils and suggested that the staircase was -little used and belonged to a part of the castle fitted for dark and -secret doings. - -We stumbled in the blackness up the steps, passing one door and then a -second before M. de Rambouillet whispered to us to stand, and knocked -gently at a third. - -The secrecy, the darkness, and above all the strange arrangements made -to receive us, filled me with the wildest conjectures. But when the -door opened and we passed one by one into a bare, unfurnished, draughty -gallery, immediately, as I judged, under the tiles, the reality agreed -with no one of my anticipations. The place was a mere garret, without a -hearth, without a single stool. Three windows, of which one was roughly -glazed, while the others were filled with oiled paper, were set in one -wall; the others displaying the stones and mortar without disguise or -ornament. Beside the door through which we had entered stood a silent -figure in the grey uniform I had seen below, his lanthorn on the floor -at his feet. A second door at the farther end of the gallery, which -was full twenty paces long, was guarded in like manner. A couple of -lanthorns stood in the middle of the floor, and that was all. - -Inside the door, M. de Rambouillet with his finger on his lip stopped -us, and we stood a little group of three a pace in front of the sentry, -and with the empty room before us. I looked at M. de Rosny, but he was -looking at Rambouillet. The marquis had his back towards me, the sentry -was gazing into vacancy; so that baffled in my attempt to learn anything -from the looks of the other actors in the scene, I fell back on my ears. -The rain dripped outside and the moaning wind rattled the casements; but -mingled with these melancholy sounds--which gained force, as such things -always do, from the circumstances in which we were placed and our own -silence--I fancied I caught the distant hum of voices and music and -laughter. And that, I know not why, brought M. de Guise again to my -mind. - -The story of his death, as I had heard it from that accursed monk in the -inn on the Claine, rose up in all its freshness, with all its details. -I started when M. de Rambouillet coughed. I shivered when Rosny shifted -his feet. The silence grew oppressive. Only the stolid men in grey -seemed unmoved, unexpectant; so that I remember wondering whether it was -their nightly duty to keep guard over an empty garret, the floor strewn -with scraps of mortar and ends of tiles. - -The interruption, when it came at last, came suddenly. The sentry at the -farther end of the gallery started and fell back a pace. Instantly the -door beside him opened and a man came in, and closing it quickly behind -him, advanced up the room with an air of dignity, which even his strange -appearance and attire could not wholly destroy. - -He was of good stature and bearing, about forty years old as I judged, -his wear a dress of violet velvet with black points cut in the extreme -of the fashion. He carried a sword but no ruff, and had a cup and ball -of ivory--a strange toy much in vogue among the idle--suspended from his -wrist by a ribbon. He was lean and somewhat narrow, but so far I found -little fault with him. It was only when my eye reached his face, and -saw it rouged like a woman’s and surmounted by a little turban, that a -feeling of scarcely understood disgust seized me, and I said to myself, -‘This is the stuff of which kings’ minions are made!’ - -To my surprise, however, M. de Rambouillet went to meet him with the -utmost respect, sweeping the dirty floor with his bonnet, and bowing -to the very ground. The newcomer acknowledged his salute with negligent -kindness. Remarking pleasantly ‘You have brought a friend, I think?’ he -looked towards us with a smile. - -‘Yes, sire, he is here,’ the marquis answered, stepping aside a little. -And with the word I understood that this was no minion, but the king -himself: Henry, the Third of the name, and the last of the great House -of Valois, which had ruled France by the grace of God for two centuries -and a half! I stared at him, and stared at him, scarcely believing what -I saw. For the first time in my life I was in the presence of the king! - -Meanwhile M. de Rosny, to whom he was, of course, no marvel, had gone -forward and knelt on one knee. The king raised him graciously, and with -an action which, viewed apart from his woman’s face and silly turban, -seemed royal and fitting. ‘This is good of you, Rosny,’ he said. ‘But it -is only what I expected of you.’ - -‘Sire,’ my companion answered, ‘your Majesty has no more devoted servant -than myself, unless it be the king my master.’ - -‘By my faith,’ Henry answered with energy--‘and if I am not a good -churchman, whatever those rascally Parisians say, I am nothing--by my -faith, I think I believe you!’ - -‘If your Majesty would believe me in that and in some other things -also,’ M. de Rosny answered, ‘it would be very well for France.’ Though -he spoke courteously, he threw so much weight and independence into -his words that I thought of the old proverb, ‘A good master, a bold -servant.’ - -‘Well, that is what we are here to see,’ the king replied. ‘But one -tells me one thing,’ he went on fretfully, ‘and one another, and which -am I to believe?’ - -‘I know nothing of others, sire,’ Rosny answered with the same spirit. -‘But my master has every claim to be believed. His interest in the -royalty of France is second only to your Majesty’s. He is also a king -and a kinsman, and it erks him to see rebels beard you, as has happened -of late.’ - -‘Ay, but the chief of them?’ Henry exclaimed, giving way to sudden -excitement and stamping furiously on the floor. ‘He will trouble me no -more. Has my brother heard of THAT? Tell me, sir, has that news reached -him?’ - -‘He has heard it, sire.’ - -‘And he approved? He approved, of course?’ - -‘Beyond doubt the man was a traitor,’ M. de Rosny answered delicately. -‘His life was forfeit, sire. Who can question it?’ - -‘And he has paid the forfeit,’ the king rejoined, looking down at -the floor and immediately falling into a moodiness as sudden as his -excitement. His lips moved. He muttered something inaudible, and began -to play absently with his cup and ball, his mind occupied apparently -with a gloomy retrospect. ‘M. de Guise, M. de Guise,’ he murmured at -last, with a sneer and an accent of hate which told of old humiliations -long remembered. ‘Well, damn him, he is dead now. He is dead. But being -dead he yet troubles us. Is not that the verse, father? Ha!’ with a -start, ‘I was forgetting. But that is the worst wrong he has done me,’ -he continued, looking up and growing excited again. ‘He has cut me off -from Mother Church. There is hardly a priest comes near me now, and -presently they will excommunicate me. And, as I hope for salvation, the -Church has no more faithful son than me.’ - -I believe he was on the point, forgetting M. de Rosny’s presence there -and his errand, of giving way to unmanly tears, when M. de Rambouillet, -as if by accident, let the heel of his scabbard fall heavily on the -floor. The king started, and passing his hand once or twice across his -brow, seemed to recover himself. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘no doubt we shall -find a way out of our difficulties.’ - -‘If your Majesty,’ Rosny answered respectfully, ‘would accept the aid my -master proffers, I venture to think that they would vanish the quicker.’ - -‘You think so,’ Henry rejoined. ‘Well, give me your shoulder. Let us -walk a little.’ And, signing to Rambouillet to leave him, he began to -walk up and down with M. de Rosny, talking familiarly with him in an -undertone. - -Only such scraps of the conversation as fell from them when they turned -at my end of the gallery now reached me. Patching these together, -however, I managed to understand somewhat. At one turn I heard the king -say, ‘But then Turenne offers--’ At the next, ‘Trust him? Well, I do not -know why I should not. He promises--’ Then ‘A Republic, Rosny? That -his plan? Pooh! he dare not. He could not. France is a kingdom by the -ordinance of God in my family.’ - -I gathered from these and other chance words, which I have since -forgotten, that M. de Rosny was pressing the king to accept the help of -the King of Navarre, and warning him against the insidious offers of the -Vicomte de Turenne. The mention of a Republic, however, seemed to excite -his Majesty’s wrath rather against Rosny for presuming to refer to such -a thing than against Turenne, to whom he refused to credit it. He paused -near my end of the promenade. - -‘Prove it!’ he said angrily. ‘But can you prove it? Can you prove it? -Mind you, I will take no hearsay evidence, sir. Now, there is Turenne’s -agent here--you did not know, I dare say, that he had an agent here?’ - -‘You refer, sire, to M. de Bruhl,’ Rosny answered, without hesitation. -‘I know him, sire.’ - -‘I think you are the devil,’ Henry answered, looking curiously at him. -‘You seem to know most things. But mind you, my friend, he speaks me -fairly, and I will not take this on hearsay even from your master. -Though,’ he added after pausing a moment, ‘I love him.’ - -‘And he, your Majesty. He desires only to prove it.’ - -‘Yes, I know, I know,’ the king answered fretfully. ‘I believes he does. -I believe he does wish me well. But there will be a devil of an outcry -among my people. And Turenne gives fair words too. And I do not know,’ -he continued, fidgeting with his cup and ball, ‘that it might not suit -me better to agree with him, you see.’ - -I saw M. de Rosny draw himself up. ‘Dare I speak openly to you, sire,’ -he said, with less respect and more energy than he had hitherto used. -‘As I should to my master?’ - -‘Ay, say what you like,’ Henry answered. But he spoke sullenly, and it -seemed to me that he looked less pleasantly at his companion. - -‘Then I will venture to utter what is in your Majesty’s mind,’ my patron -answered steadfastly. ‘You fear, sire, lest, having accepted my master’s -offer and conquered your enemies, you should not be easily rid of him.’ - -Henry looked relieved. ‘Do you call that diplomacy?’ he said with a -smile. ‘However, what if it be so? What do you say to it? Methinks I -have heard an idle tale about a horse which would hunt a stag; and for -the purpose set a man upon its back.’ - -‘This I say, sire, first,’ Rosny answered very earnestly. ‘That the King -of Navarre is popular only with one-third of the kingdom, and is only -powerful when united with you. Secondly, sire, it is his interest to -support the royal power, to which he is heir. And, thirdly, it must be -more to your Majesty’s honour to accept help from a near kinsman than -from an ordinary subject, and one who, I still maintain, sire, has no -good designs in his mind.’ - -‘The proof’ Henry said sharply. ‘Give me that!’ - -‘I can give it in a week from this day.’ - -‘It must be no idle tale, mind you,’ the king continued suspiciously. - -‘You shall have Turenne’s designs, sire, from one who had them from his -own mouth.’ - -The king looked startled, but after a pause turned and resumed his walk. -‘Well,’ he said, ‘if you do that, I on my part--’ - -The rest I lost, for the two passing to the farther end of the gallery, -came to a standstill there, balking my curiosity and Rambouillet’s also. -The marquis, indeed, began to betray his impatience, and the great clock -immediately over our heads presently striking the half-hour after ten, -he started and made as if he would have approached the king. He checked -the impulse, however, but still continued to fidget uneasily, losing his -reserve by-and-by so far as to whisper to me that his Majesty would be -missed. - -I had been, up to this point, a silent and inactive spectator of a -scene which appealed to my keenest interests and aroused my most ardent -curiosity. Surprise following surprise, I had begun to doubt my own -identity; so little had I expected to find myself first in the presence -of the Most Christian King--and that under circumstances as strange and -bizarre as could well be imagined--and then an authorised witness at -a negotiation upon which the future of all the great land of France -stretching for so many hundred leagues on every side of us, depended. I -say I could scarcely believe in my own identity; or that I was the same -Gaston de Marsac who had slunk, shabby and out-at-elbows, about St. Jean -d’Angely. I tasted the first sweetness of secret power, which men say is -the sweetest of all and the last relinquished; and, the hum of -distant voices and laughter still reaching me at intervals, I began to -understand why we had been admitted with, so much precaution, and to -comprehend the gratification of M. de Rosny when the promise of this -interview first presented to him the hope of effecting so much for his -master and for France. - -Now I was to be drawn into the whirlpool itself. I was still travelling -back over the different stages of the adventure which had brought me to -this point, when I was rudely awakened by M. de Rosny calling my name -in a raised voice. Seeing, somewhat late, that he was beckoning to me -to approach, I went forward in a confused and hasty fashion; kneeling -before the king as I had seen him kneel, and then rising to give ear to -his Majesty’s commands. Albeit, having expected nothing less than to be -called upon, I was not in the clearest mood to receive them. Nor was my -bearing such as I could have wished it to be. - -M. de Rosny tells me that you desire a commission at Court, sir,’ the -king said quickly. - -‘I, sire?’ I stammered, scarcely able to believe my ears. I was so -completely taken aback that I could say no more, and I stopped there -with my mouth open. - -‘There are few things I can deny M. de Rosny,’ Henry continued, speaking -very rapidly, ‘and I am told that you are a gentleman of birth and -ability. Out of kindness to him, therefore, I grant you a commission to -raise twenty men for my service. Rambouillet,’ he continued, raising -his voice slightly, ‘you will introduce this gentleman to me publicly -to-morrow, that; I may carry into effect my intention on his behalf. You -may go now, sir. No thanks. And M. de Rosny,’ he added, turning to my -companion and speaking with energy, ‘have a care for my sake that you -are not recognised as you go. Rambouillet must contrive something to -enable you to leave without peril. I should be desolated if anything -happened to you, my friend, for I could not protect you. I give you my -word if Mendoza or Retz found you in Blois I could not save you from -them unless you recanted.’ - -‘I will not trouble either your Majesty or my conscience,’ M. de Rosny -replied, bowing low, ‘if my wits can help me.’ - -‘Well, the saints keep you,’ the king answered piously, going towards -the door by which he had entered; ‘for your master and I have both need -of you. Rambouillet, take care of him as you love me. And come early in -the morning to my closet and tell me how it has fared with him.’ - -We all stood bowing while he withdrew, and only turned to retire when -the door closed behind him. Burning with indignation and chagrin as -I was at finding myself disposed of in the way I have described, and -pitchforked, whether I would or no, into a service I neither fancied -nor desired, I still managed for the present to restrain myself; and, -permitting my companions to precede me, followed in silence, listening -sullenly to their jubilations. The marquis seemed scarcely less pleased -than M. de Rosny; and as the latter evinced a strong desire to lessen -any jealousy the former might feel, and a generous inclination to -attribute to him a full share of the credit gained, I remained the -only person dissatisfied with the evening’s events. We retired from the -chateau with the same precautions which had marked our entrance, and -parting with M. de Rambouillet at the door of our lodging--not without -many protestations of esteem on his part and of gratitude on that of -M. de Rosny--mounted to the first-floor in single file and in silence, -which I was determined not to be the first to break. - -Doubtless M. de Rosny knew my thoughts, for, speedily dismissing Maignan -and Simon, who were in waiting, he turned to me without preface. ‘Come, -my friend,’ he said, laying his hand on my shoulder and looking me in -the face in a way which all but disarmed me at once, ‘do not let us -misunderstand one another. You think you have cause to be angry with me. -I cannot suffer that, for the King of Navarre had never greater need of -your services than now.’ - -‘You have played me an unworthy trick, sir,’ I answered, thinking he -would cozen me with fair speeches. - -‘Tut, tut!’ he replied. ‘You do not understand.’ - -‘I understand well enough,’ I answered, with bitterness, ‘that, having -done the King of Navarre’s work, he would now be rid of me.’ - -‘Have I not told you,’ M. de Rosny replied, betraying for the first time -some irritation, ‘that he has greater need of your services than ever? -Come, man, be reasonable, or, better still, listen to me.’ And turning -from me, he began to walk up and down the room, his hands behind him. -‘the King of France--I want to make it as clear to you as possible--’ -he said, ‘cannot make head against the League without help, and, -willy-nilly, must look for it to the Huguenots whom he has so long -persecuted. The King of Navarre, their acknowledged leader, has offered -that help; and so, to spite my master, and prevent a combination so -happy for France, has M. de Turenne, who would fain raise the faction he -commands to eminence, and knows well how to make his profit out of the -dissensions of his country. Are you clear so far, sir?’ - -I assented. I was becoming absorbed in spite of myself. - -‘Very well,’ he resumed. ‘This evening--never did anything fall out more -happily than Rambouillet’s meeting with me--he is a good man!--I -have brought the king to this: that if proof of the selfish nature of -Turenne’s designs be laid before him he will hesitate no longer. That -proof exists. A fortnight ago it was here; but it is not here now.’ - -‘That is unlucky!’ I exclaimed. I was so much interested in his story, -as well as flattered by the confidence he was placing in me, that my -ill-humour vanished. I went and stood with my shoulder against the -mantelpiece, and he, passing to and fro between me and the light, -continued his tale. - -‘A word about this proof,’ he said. ‘It came into the King of Navarre’s -hands before its full value was known to us, for that only accrued to -it on M. de Guise’s death. A month ago it--this piece of evidence I -mean--was at Chize. A fortnight or so ago it was here in Blois. It -is now, ‘M. de Marsac,’ he continued, facing me suddenly as he came -opposite me, ‘in my house at Rosny.’ - -I started. ‘You mean Mademoiselle de la Vire?’ I cried. - -‘I mean Mademoiselle de la Vire!’ he answered, ‘who, some month or two -ago, overheard M. de Turenne’s plans, and contrived to communicate -with the King of Navarre. Before the latter could arrange a private -interview, however, M. de Turenne got wind of her dangerous knowledge, -and swept her off to Chize. The rest you know, M. de Marsac, if any man -knows it.’ - -‘But what will you do?’ I asked. ‘She is at Rosny.’ - -‘Maignan, whom I trust implicitly, as far as his lights go, will start -to fetch her to-morrow. At the same hour I start southwards. You, M. -de Marsac, will remain here as my agent, to watch over my interests, -to receive Mademoiselle on her arrival, to secure for her a secret -interview with the king, to guard her while she remains here. Do you -understand?’ - -Did I understand? I could not find words in which to thank him. My -remorse and gratitude, my sense of the wrong I had done him, and of the -honour he was doing me, were such that I stood mute before him as I had -stood before the king. ‘You accept, then?’ he said, smiling. ‘You do not -deem the adventure beneath you, my friend?’ - -‘I deserve your confidence so little, sir,’ I answered, stricken to the -ground, ‘that I beg you to speak, while I listen. By attending exactly -to your instructions I may prove worthy of the trust reposed in me. And -only so.’ - -He embraced me again and again, with a kindness which moved me almost -to tears. ‘You are a man after my own heart,’ he said, ‘and if God wills -I will make your fortune. Now listen, my friend. To-morrow at Court, as -a stranger and a man introduced by Rambouillet, you will be the cynosure -of all eyes. Bear yourself bravely. Pay court to the women, but attach -yourself to no one in particular. Keep aloof from Retz and the Spanish -faction, but beware especially of Bruhl. He alone will have your secret, -and may suspect your design. Mademoiselle should be here in a week; -while she is with you, and until she has seen the king, trust no one, -suspect everyone, fear all things. Consider the battle won only when the -king says, “I am satisfied.”’ - -Much more he told me, which served its purpose and has been forgotten. -Finally he honoured me by bidding me share his pallet with him, that we -might talk without restraint, and that if anything occurred to him in -the night he might communicate it to me. - -‘But will not Bruhl denounce me as a Huguenot?’ I asked him. - -‘He will not dare to do so,’ M. de Rosny answered, ‘both as a Huguenot -himself, and as his master’s representative; and, further, because it -would displease the king. No, but whatever secret harm one man can -do another, that you have to fear. Maignan, when he returns with -mademoiselle, will leave two men with you; until they come I should -borrow a couple of stout fellows from Rambouillet. Do not go out alone -after dark, and beware of doorways, especially your own.’ - -A little later, when I thought him asleep, I heard him chuckle; and -rising on my elbow I asked him what it was. ‘Oh, it is your affair,’ -he answered, still laughing silently, so that I felt the mattress shake -under him. ‘I don’t envy you one part of your task, my friend.’ - -‘What is that?’ I said suspiciously. - -‘Mademoiselle,’ he answered, stifling with difficulty a burst of -laughter. And after that he would not say another word, bad, good, or -indifferent, though I felt the bed shake more than once, and knew that -he was digesting his pleasantry. - - - -CHAPTER XVI. IN THE KING’S CHAMBER. - -M. de Rosny had risen from my side and started on his journey when I -opened my eyes in the morning, and awoke to the memory of the task which -had been so strangely imposed upon me; and which might, according as -the events of the next fortnight shaped themselves, raise me to high -position or put an end to my career. He had not forgotten to leave -a souvenir behind him, for I found beside my pillow a handsome -silver-mounted pistol, bearing the letter ‘R.’ and a coronet; nor had -I more than discovered this instance of his kindness before Simon Fleix -came in to tell me that M. de Rosny had left two hundred crowns in his -hands for me. - -‘Any message with it?’ I asked the lad. - -‘Only that; he had taken a keepsake in exchange,’ Simon answered, -opening the window as he spoke. - -In some wonder I began to search, but I could not discover that anything -was missing until I came to put on my doublet, when I found that the -knot of ribbon which mademoiselle had flung to me at my departure from -Rosny was gone from the inside of the breast, where I had pinned it for -safety with a long thorn. The discovery that M. de Rosny had taken this -was displeasing to me on more than one account. In the first place, -whether mademoiselle had merely wished to plague me (as was most -probable) or not, I was loth to lose it, my day for ladies’ favours -being past and gone; in the second, I misdoubted the motive which -had led him to purloin it, and tormented myself with thinking of the -different constructions he might put upon it, and the disparaging view -of my trust worthiness which it might lead him to take. I blamed myself -much for my carelessness in leaving it where a chance eye might rest -upon it; and more when, questioning Simon further, I learned that M. -de Rosny had added, while mounting at the door, ‘Tell your master, safe -bind, safe find; and a careless lover makes a loose mistress.’ - -I felt my cheek burn in a manner unbecoming my years while Simon with -some touch of malice repeated this; and I made a vow on the spot, which -I kept until I was tempted to break it, to have no more to do with such -trifles. Meanwhile, I had to make the best of it; and brisking up, and -bidding Simon, who seemed depressed by the baron’s departure, brisk up -also, I set about my preparations for making such a figure at Court -as became me: procuring a black velvet suit, and a cap and feather to -match; item, a jewelled clasp to secure the feather; with a yard or two -of lace and two changes of fine linen. - -Simon had grown sleek at Rosny, and losing something of the wildness -which had marked him, presented in the dress M. de Rosny had given him -a very creditable appearance; being also, I fancy, the only equerry in -Blois who could write. A groom I engaged on the recommendation of M. de -Rambouillet’s master of the horse; and I gave out also that I required a -couple of valets. It needed only an hour under the barber’s hands and a -set of new trappings for the Cid to enable me to make a fair show, such -as might be taken to indicate a man of ten or twelve thousand livres a -year. - -In this way I expended a hundred and fifteen crowns reflecting that -this was a large sum, and that I must keep some money for play, I was -glad to learn that in the crowded state of the city even men with high -rank were putting up with poor lodging; I determined, therefore, to -combine economy with a scheme which I had in my head by taking the rooms -in which my mother died, with one room below them. This I did, hiring -such furniture as I needed, which was not a great deal. To Simon Fleix, -whose assistance in these matters was invaluable, I passed on much of M. -de Rosny’s advice, bidding him ruffle it with the best in his station, -and inciting him to labour for my advancement by promising to make his -fortune whenever my own should be assured. I hoped, indeed, to derive -no little advantage from the quickness of wit; which had attracted M. de -Rosny’s attention; although I did not fail to take into account at the -same time that the lad was wayward and fitful, prone at one time to -depression, and at another to giddiness, and equally uncertain in either -mood. - -M. de Rambouillet being unable to attend the LEVEE, had appointed me to -wait upon him at six in the evening; at which hour I presented myself at -his lodgings, attended by Simon Fleix. I found him in the midst of -half a dozen gentlemen whose habit it was to attend him upon all public -occasions; and these gallants, greeting me with the same curious and -suspicious glances which I have seen hounds bestow on a strange dog -introduced into their kennel, I was speedily made to feel that it is one -thing to have business at Court, and another to be well received there. - -M. de Rambouillet, somewhat to my surprise, did nothing to remove -this impression. On all ordinary occasions a man of stiff and haughty -bearing, and thoroughly disliking, though he could not prevent, the -intrusion of a third party into a transaction which promised an infinity -of credit, he received me so coldly and with so much reserve as for the -moment to dash my spirits and throw me back on myself. - -During the journey to the castle, however, which we performed on foot, -attended by half a dozen armed servants bearing torches, I had time to -recall M. de Rosny’s advice, and to bethink me of the intimacy which -that great man had permitted me; with so much effect in the way of -heartening me, that as we crossed the courtyard of the castle I -advanced myself, not without some murmuring on the part of others, to -Rambouillet’s elbow, considering that as I was attached to him by the -king’s command, this was my proper place. I had no desire to quarrel, -however, and persisted for some time in disregarding the nudges and -muttered words which were exchanged round me, and even the efforts which -were made as we mounted the stairs to oust me from my position. But -a young gentleman, who showed himself very forward in these attempts, -presently stumbling against me, I found it necessary to look at him. - -‘Sir,’ he said, in a small and lisping voice, ‘you trod on my toe.’ - -Though I had not done so, I begged his pardon very politely. But as his -only acknowledgment of this courtesy consisted in an attempt to get his -knee in front of mine--we were mounting very slowly, the stairs being -cumbered with a multitude of servants, who stood on either hand--I did -tread on his toe, with a force and directness which made him cry out. - -‘What is the matter?’ Rambouillet asked, looking back hastily. - -‘Nothing, M. le Marquis,’ I answered, pressing on steadfastly. - -‘Sir,’ my young friend said again, in the same lisping voice, ‘you trod -on my toe.’ - -‘I believe I did, sir,’ I answered. - -‘You have not yet apologised,’ he murmured gently in my ear. - -‘Nay, there you are wrong,’ I rejoined bluntly, ‘for it is always my -habit to apologise first and tread afterwards.’ - -He smiled as at a pleasant joke; and I am bound to say that his bearing -was so admirable that if he had been my son I could have hugged him. -‘Good!’ he answered. ‘No doubt your sword is as sharp as your wits, -sir. I see,’ he continued, glancing naively at my old scabbard--he -was himself the very gem of a courtier, a slender youth with a -pink-and-white complexion, a dark line for a moustache, and a pearl-drop -in his ear--‘it is longing to be out. Perhaps you will take a turn in -the tennis-court to-morrow?’ - -‘With pleasure, sir,’ I answered, ‘if you have a father, or your elder -brother is grown up.’ - -What answer he would have made to this gibe I do not know, for at that -moment we reached the door of the ante-chamber; and this being narrow, -and a sentry in the grey uniform of the Swiss Guard compelling all to -enter in single file, my young friend was forced to fall back, leaving -me free to enter alone, and admire at my leisure a scene at once -brilliant and sombre. - -The Court being in mourning for the Queen-mother, black predominated -in the dresses of those present, and set off very finely the gleaming -jewels and gemmed sword-hilts which were worn by the more important -personages. The room was spacious and lofty, hung with arras, and lit by -candles burning in silver sconces; it rang as we entered with the shrill -screaming of a parrot, which was being teased by a group occupying the -farther of the two hearths. Near them play was going on at one table, -and primero at a second. In a corner were three or four ladies, in -a circle about a red-faced, plebeian-looking man, who was playing at -forfeits with one of their number; while the middle of the room -seemed dominated by a middle-sized man with a peculiarly inflamed and -passionate countenance, who, seated on a table, was inveighing against -someone or something in the most violent terms, his language being -interlarded with all kinds of strange and forcible oaths. Two or three -gentlemen, who had the air of being his followers, stood about him, -listening between submission and embarrassment; while beside the nearer -fireplace, but at some distance from him, lounged a nobleman, very -richly dressed, and wearing on his breast the Cross of the Holy Ghost; -who seemed to be the object of his invective, but affecting to ignore it -was engaged in conversation with a companion. A bystander muttering that -Crillon had been drinking, I discovered with immense surprise that the -declaimer on the table was that famous soldier; and I was still looking -at him in wonder--for I had been accustomed all my life to associate -courage with modesty--when, the door of the chamber suddenly opening, a -general movement in that direction took place. Crillon, disregarding all -precedency, sprang from his table and hurried first to the threshold. -The Baron de Biron, on the other hand--for the gentleman by the fire was -no other--waited, in apparent ignorance of the slight which was being -put upon him, until M. de Rambouillet came up; then he went forward -with him. Keeping close to my patron’s elbow, I entered the chamber -immediately behind him. - -Crillon had already seized upon the king, and, when we entered, was -stating his grievance is a voice not much lower than that which he had -used outside. M. de Biron, seeing this, parted from the marquis, and, -going aside with his former companion, sat down on a trunk against the -wall; while Rambouillet, followed by myself and three or four gentlemen -of his train, advanced to the king, who was standing near the alcove. -His Majesty seeing him, and thankful, I think, for the excuse, waved -Crillon off. ‘Tut, tut! You told me all that this morning,’ he said -good-naturedly. ‘And here is Rambouillet, who has, I hope, something -fresh to tell. Let him speak to me. Sanctus! Don’t look at me as if -you would run me through, man. Go and quarrel with someone of your own -size.’ - -Crillon at this retired grumbling, and Henry, who had just risen from -primero with the Duke of Nevers, nodded to Rambouillet. ‘Well, my -friend, anything fresh?’ he cried. He was more at his ease and looked -more cheerful than at our former interview; yet still care and suspicion -lurked about his peevish mouth, and in the hollows under his gloomy -eyes. ‘A new guest, a new face, or a new game--which have you brought?’ - -‘In a sense, sire, a new face,’ the marquis answered, bowing, and -standing somewhat aside that I might have place. - -‘Well, I cannot say much for the pretty baggage,’ quoth the king -quickly. And amid a general titter he extended his hand to me. ‘I’ll -be sworn, though,’ he continued, as I rose from my knee, ‘that you want -something, my friend?’ - -‘Nay, sire,’ I answered, holding up my head boldly--for Crillon’s -behaviour had been a further lesson to me--‘I have, by your leave, the -advantage. For your Majesty has supplied me with a new jest. I see many -new faces round me, and I have need only of a new game. If your Majesty -would be pleased to grant me--’ - -‘There! Said I not so?’ cried the king, raising his hand with a laugh. -‘He does want something. But he seems not undeserving. What does he -pray, Rambouillet?’ - -‘A small command,’ M. de Rambouillet answered, readily playing his -part. ‘And your Majesty would oblige me if you could grant the Sieur de -Marsac’s petition. I will answer for it he is a man of experience.’ - -‘Chut! A small command?’ Henry ejaculated, sitting down suddenly in -apparent ill-humour. ‘It is what everyone wants--when they do not want -big ones. Still, I suppose,’ he continued, taking up a comfit-box, which -lay beside him, and opening it, ‘if you do not get what you want for him -you will sulk like the rest, my friend.’ - -‘Your Majesty has never had cause to complain of me,’ quoth the Marquis, -forgetting his role, or too proud to play it. - -‘Tut, tut, tut, tut! Take it, and trouble me no more,’ the king -rejoined. ‘Will pay for twenty men do for him? Very well then. There, -M. de Marsac,’ he continued, nodding at me and yawning, ‘your request -is granted. You will find some other pretty baggages over there. Go -to them. And now, Rambouillet,’ he went on, resuming his spirits as he -turned to matters of more importance, ‘here is a new sweetmeat Zamet has -sent me. I have made Zizi sick with it. Will you try it? It is flavoured -with white mulberries.’ - -Thus dismissed, I fell back; and stood for a moment, at a loss whither -to turn, in the absence of either friends or acquaintances. His Majesty, -it is true, had bidden me go to certain pretty baggages, meaning, -apparently, five ladies who were seated at the farther end of the room, -diverting themselves with as many cavaliers; but the compactness of this -party, the beauty of the ladies, and the merry peals of laughter which -proceeded from them, telling of a wit and vivacity beyond the ordinary, -sapped the resolution which had borne me well hitherto. I felt that -to attack such a phalanx, even with a king’s good will, was beyond the -daring of a Crillon, and I looked round to see whether I could not amuse -myself in some more modest fashion. - -The material was not lacking. Crillon, still mouthing out his anger, -strode up and down in front of the trunk on which M. de Biron was -seated; but the latter was, or affected to be, asleep. ‘Crillon is for -ever going into rages now,’ a courtier beside me whispered. - -‘Yes,’ his fellow answered, with a shrug of the shoulder; ‘it is a pity -there is no one to tame him. But he has such a long reach, morbleu!’ - -‘It is not that so much as the fellow’s fury,’ the first speaker -rejoined under his breath. ‘He fights like a mad thing; fencing is no -use against him.’ - -The other nodded. For a moment the wild idea of winning renown by taming -M. de Crillon occurred to me as I stood alone in the middle of the -floor; but it had not more than passed through my brain when I felt -my elbow touched, and turned to find the young gentleman whom I had -encountered on the stairs standing by my side. - -‘Sir,’ he lisped, in the same small voice, ‘I think you trod on my toe a -while ago?’ - -I stared at him, wondering what he meant by this absurd repetition. -‘Well, sir,’ I answered drily, ‘and if I did?’ - -‘Perhaps,’ he said, stroking his chin with his jewelled fingers, -‘pending our meeting to-morrow, you would allow me to consider it as a -kind of introduction?’ - -‘If it please you,’ I answered, bowing stiffly, and wondering what he -would be at. - -‘Thank you,’ he answered. ‘It does please me, under the circumstances; -for there is a lady here who desires a word with you. I took up her -challenge. Will you follow me?’ - -He bowed, and turned in his languid fashion. I, turning too, saw, with -secret dismay, that the five ladies, referred to above, were all now -gazing at me, as expecting my approach; and this with such sportive -glances as told only too certainly of some plot already in progress or -some trick to be presently played me. Yet I could not see that I had any -choice save to obey, and, following my leader with as much dignity as I -could compass, I presently found myself bowing before the lady who sat -nearest, and who seemed to be the leader of these nymphs. - -‘Nay, sir,’ she said, eyeing me curiously, yet with a merry face, ‘I do -not need you; I do not look so high!’ - -Turning in confusion to the next, I was surprised to see before me the -lady whose lodging I had invaded in my search for Mademoiselle de la -Vire--she, I mean, who, having picked up the velvet; knot, had dropped -it so providentially where Simon Fleix found it. She looked at me -blushing and laughing, and the young gentleman, who had done her errand, -presenting me by name, she asked me, while the others listened, whether -I had found my mistress. - -Before I could answer, the lady to whom I had first addressed myself -interposed. ‘Stop, sir!’ she cried. What is this--a tale, a jest, a -game, or a forfeit?’ - -‘An adventure, madam,’ I answered, bowing low. - -‘Of gallantry, I’ll be bound,’ she exclaimed. ‘Fie, Madame de Bruhl, and -you but six months married!’ - -Madame de Bruhl protested, laughing, that she had no more to do with it -than Mercury. ‘At the worst,’ she said, ‘I carried the POULETS! But I -can assure you, duchess, this gentleman should be able to tell us a very -fine story, if he would.’ - -The duchess and all the other ladies clapping their hands at this, and -crying out that the story must and should be told, I found myself in -a prodigious quandary; and one wherein my wits derived as little -assistance as possible from the bright eyes and saucy looks which -environed me. Moreover, the commotion attracting other listeners, I -found my position, while I tried to extricate myself, growing each -moment worse, so that I began to fear that as I had little imagination -I should perforce have to tell the truth. The mere thought of this -threw me into a cold perspiration, lest I should let slip something of -consequence, and prove myself unworthy of the trust which M. de Rosny -had reposed in me. - -At the moment when, despairing of extricating myself, I was stooping -over Madame de Bruhl begging her to assist me, I heard, amid the babel -of laughter and raillery which surrounded me--certain of the courtiers -having already formed hands in a circle and sworn I should not depart -without satisfying the ladies--a voice which struck a chord in my -memory. I turned to see who the speaker was, and encountered no other -than M. de Bruhl himself; who, with a flushed and angry face, was -listening to the explanation which a friend was pouring into his ear. -Standing at the moment with my knee on Madame de Bruhl’s stool, and -remembering very well the meeting on the stairs, I conceived in a flash -that the man was jealous; but whether he had yet heard my name, or had -any clew to link me with the person who had rescued Mademoiselle de la -Vire from his clutches, I could not tell. Nevertheless his presence led -my thoughts into a new channel. The determination to punish him began to -take form in my mind, and very quickly I regained my composure. Still I -was for giving him one chance. Accordingly I stooped once more to Madame -de Bruhl’s ear, and begged her to spare me the embarrassment of telling -my tale. But then, finding her pitiless, as I expected, and the rest of -the company growing more and more insistent, I hardened my heart to go -through with the fantastic notion which had occurred to me. - -Indicating by a gesture that I was prepared to obey, and the duchess -crying for a hearing, this was presently obtained, the sudden silence -adding the king himself to my audience. ‘What is it?’ he asked, coming -up effusively, with a lap-dog in his arms. ‘A new scandal, eh?’ - -‘No, sire, a new tale-teller,’ the duchess answered pertly. ‘If your -Majesty will sit, we shall hear him the sooner.’ - -He pinched her ear and sat down in the chair which a page presented. -‘What! is it Rambouillet’s GRISON again?’ he said with some surprise. -‘Well, fire away, man. But who brought you forward as a Rabelais?’ - -There was a general cry of ‘Madame de Bruhl!’ whereat that lady shook -her fair hair, about her face, and cried out for someone to bring her a -mask. - -‘Ha, I see!’ said the king drily, looking pointedly at M. de Bruhl, who -was as black as thunder. ‘But go on, man.’ - -The king’s advent, by affording me a brief respite, had enabled me to -collect my thoughts, and, disregarding the ribald interruptions, which -at first were frequent, I began as follows: ‘I am no Rabelais, sire,’ I -said, ‘but droll things happen to the most unlikely. Once upon a time it -was the fortune of a certain swain, whom I will call Dromio, to arrive -in a town not a hundred miles from Blois, having in his company a nymph -of great beauty, who had been entrusted to his care by her parents. He -had not more than lodged her in his apartments, however, before she -was decoyed away by a trick, and borne off against her will by a young -gallant, who had seen her and been smitten by her charms. Dromio, -returning, and finding his mistress gone, gave way to the most poignant -grief. He ran up and down the city, seeking her in every place, and -filling all places with his lamentations; but for a time in vain, until -chance led him to a certain street, where, in an almost incredible -manner, he found a clew to her by discovering underfoot a knot of -velvet, bearing Phyllida’s name wrought on it in delicate needlework, -with the words, “A moi!”’ - -‘Sanctus!’ cried the king, amid a general murmur of surprise, ‘that -is well devised! Proceed, sir. Go on like that, and we will make your -twenty men twenty-five.’ - -‘Dromio,’ I continued, ‘at sight of this trifle experienced the most -diverse emotions, for while he possessed in it a clew to his mistress’s -fate, he had still to use it so as to discover the place whither she had -been hurried. It occurred to him at last to begin his search with the -house before which the knot had lain. Ascending accordingly to the -second-floor, he found there a fair lady reclining on a couch, who -started up in affright at his appearance. He hastened to reassure -her, and to explain the purpose of his coming, and learned after a -conversation with which I will not trouble your Majesty, though it -was sufficiently diverting, that the lady had found the velvet knot in -another part of the town, and had herself dropped it again in front of -her own house.’ - -‘Pourquoi?’ the king asked, interrupting me. - -‘The swain, sire,’ I answered, ‘was too much taken up with his own -troubles to bear that in mind, even if he learned it. But this delicacy -did not save him from misconception, for as he descended from the lady’s -apartment he met her husband on the stairs.’ - -‘Good!’ the king exclaimed, rubbing his hands in glee. ‘The husband!’ -And under cover of the gibe and the courtly laugh which followed it M. -de Bruhl’s start of surprise passed unnoticed save by me. - -‘The husband,’ I resumed, ‘seeing a stranger descending his staircase, -was for stopping him and learning the reason of his presence; But -Dromio, whose mind was with Phyllida, refused to stop, and, evading his -questions, hurried to the part of the town where the lady had told him -she found the velvet knot. Here, sire, at the corner of a lane running -between garden-walls, he found a great house, barred and gloomy, and -well adapted to the abductor’s purpose. Moreover, scanning it on every -side, he presently discovered, tied about the bars of an upper window, -a knot of white linen, the very counterpart of that velvet one which he -bore in his breast. Thus he knew that the nymph was imprisoned in that -room!’ - -‘I will make it twenty-five, as I am a good Churchman!’ his Majesty -exclaimed, dropping the little dog he was nursing into the duchess’s -lap, and taking out his comfit-box. ‘Rambouillet,’ he added languidly, -‘your friend is a treasure!’ - -I bowed my acknowledgments, and took occasion as I did so to step a -pace aside, so as to command a view of Madame de Bruhl, as well as her -husband. Hitherto madame, willing to be accounted a part in so pretty -a romance, and ready enough also, unless I was mistaken, to cause her -husband a little mild jealousy, had listened to the story with a certain -sly demureness. But this I foresaw would not last long; and I felt -something like compunction as the moment for striking the blow -approached. But I had now no choice. ‘The best is yet to come, sire,’ I -went on, ‘as I think you will acknowledge in a moment. Dromio, though -he had discovered his mistress, was still in the depths of despair. He -wandered round and round the house, seeking ingress and finding none, -until at length, sunset approaching, and darkness redoubling his fears -for the nymph, fortune took pity on him. As he stood in front of the -house he saw the abductor come out, lighted by two servants. Judge of -his surprise, sire,’ I continued, looking round and speaking slowly, to -give full effect to my words, ‘when he recognised in him no other than -the husband of the lady who, by picking up and again dropping the velvet -knot, had contributed so much to the success of his search!’ - -‘Ha! these husbands!’ cried the king. And slapping his knee in an -ecstasy at his own acuteness, he laughed in his seat till he rolled -again. ‘These husbands! Did I not say so?’ - -The whole Court gave way to like applause, and clapped their hands as -well, so that few save those who stood nearest took notice of Madame de -Bruhl’s faint cry, and still fewer understood why she rose up suddenly -from her stool and stood gazing at her husband with burning cheeks and -clenched hands. She took no heed of me, much less of the laughing crowd -round her, but looked only at him with her soul in her eyes. He, after -uttering one hoarse curse, seemed to have no thought for any but me. To -have the knowledge that his own wife had baulked him brought home to him -in this mocking fashion, to find how little a thing had tripped him that -day, to learn how blindly he had played into the hands of fate, above -all to be exposed at once to his wife’s resentment and the ridicule of -the Court--for he could not be sure that I should not the next moment -disclose his name--all so wrought on him that for a moment I thought he -would strike me in the presence. - -His rage, indeed, did what I had not meant to do. For the king, catching -sight of his face, and remembering that Madame de Bruhl had elicited the -story, screamed suddenly, ‘Haro!’ and pointed ruthlessly at him with his -finger. After that I had no need to speak, the story leaping from eye to -eye, and every eye settling on Bruhl, who sought in vain to compose his -features. Madame, who surpassed him, as women commonly do surpass men, -in self-control, was the first to recover herself, and sitting down as -quickly as she had risen, confronted alike her husband and her rivals -with a pale smile. - -For a moment curiosity and excitement kept all breathless, the eye -alone busy. Then the king laughed mischievously. ‘Come, M. de Bruhl,’ he -cried, ‘perhaps you will finish the tale for us?’ And he threw himself -back in his chair, a sneer on his lips. - -‘Or why not Madame de Bruhl?’ said the duchess, with her head on one -side and her eyes glittering over her fan. ‘Madame would, I am sure, -tell it so well.’ - -But madame only shook her head, smiling always that forced smile. For -Bruhl himself, glaring from face to face like a bull about to charge, -I have never seen a man more out of countenance, or more completely -brought to bay. His discomposure, exposed as he was to the ridicule -of all present, was such that the presence in which he stood scarcely -hindered him from some violent attack; and his eyes, which had wandered -from me at the king’s word, presently returning to me again, he so far -forgot himself as to raise his hand furiously, uttering at the same time -a savage oath. - -The king cried out angrily, ‘Have a care, sir!’ But Bruhl only heeded -this so far as to thrust aside those who stood round him and push his -way hurriedly through the circle. - -‘Arnidieu!’ cried the king, when he was gone. ‘This is fine conduct! I -have half a mind to send after him and have him put where his hot blood -would cool a little. Or--’ - -He stopped abruptly, his eyes resting on me. The relative positions of -Bruhl and myself as the agents of Rosny and Turenne occurred to him for -the first time, I think, and suggested the idea, perhaps, that I had -laid a trap for him, and that he had fallen into it. At any rate his -face grew darker and darker, and at last, ‘A nice kettle of fish this is -you have prepared for us, sir!’ he muttered, gazing at me gloomily. - -The sudden change in his humour took even courtiers by surprise. Faces -a moment before broad with smiles grew long again. The less important -personages looked uncomfortably at one another, and with one accord -frowned on me. ‘If your Majesty would please to hear the end of the -story at another time?’ I suggested humbly, beginning to wish with all -my heart that I had never said a word. - -‘Chut!’ he answered, rising, his face still betraying his perturbation, -‘Well, be it so. For the present you may go, sir. Duchess, give me -Zizi, and come to my closet. I want you to see my puppies. Retz, my good -friend, do you come too. I have something to say to you. Gentlemen, you -need not wait. It is likely I shall be late.’ - -And, with the utmost abruptness, he broke up the circle. - - - -CHAPTER XVII. THE JACOBIN MONK. - -Had I needed any reminder of the uncertainty of Court favour, or an -instance whence I might learn the lesson of modesty, and so stand in -less danger of presuming on my new and precarious prosperity, I had it -in this episode, and in the demeanour of the company round me. On the -circle breaking up in confusion, I found myself the centre of general -regard, but regard of so dubious a character, the persons who would have -been the first to compliment me had the king retired earlier, standing -farthest aloof now, that I felt myself rather insulted than honoured by -it. One or two, indeed, of the more cautious spirits did approach me; -but it was with the air of men providing against a danger particularly -remote, their half-hearted speeches serving only to fix them in my -memory as belonging to a class, especially abhorrent to me--the class, I -mean, of those who would run at once with the hare and the hounds. - -I was rejoiced to find that on one person, and that the one whose -disposition towards me was, next to the king’s, of first importance, -this episode had produced a different impression, Feeling, as I made for -the door, a touch on my arm, I turned to find M. de Rambouillet at my -elbow, regarding me with a glance of mingled esteem and amusement; in -fine, with a very different look from that which had been my welcome -earlier in the evening. I was driven to suppose that he was too great a -man, or too sure of his favour with the king, to be swayed by the -petty motives which actuated the Court generally, for he laid his hand -familiarly on my shoulder, and walked on beside me. - -‘Well my friend,’ he said,’ you have distinguished yourself finely! I -do not know that I ever remember a pretty woman making more stir in one -evening. But if you are wise you will not go home alone to-night.’ - -‘I have my sword, M. le Marquis,’ I answered, somewhat proudly. ‘Which -will avail you little against a knife in the back!’ he retorted drily. -‘What attendance have you?’ - -‘My equerry, Simon Fleix, is on the stairs.’ - -‘Good, so far, but not enough,’ he replied, as we reached the head of -the staircase. ‘You had better come home with me now, and two or three -of my fellows shall go on to your lodging with you. Do you know, my -friend,’ he continued, looking at me keenly, ‘you are either a very -clever or a very foolish man?’ - -I made answer modestly. ‘Neither the one, I fear, nor the other, I hope -sir,’ I said. - -‘Well, you have done a very pertinent thing,’ he replied, ‘for good or -evil. You have let the enemy know what he has to expect, and he is not -one, I warn you, to be despised. But whether you have been very wise or -very foolish in declaring open war remains to be seen.’ - -‘A week will show,’ I answered. - -He turned and looked at me. ‘You take it coolly,’ he said. - -‘I have been knocking about the world for forty years, marquis,’ I -rejoined. - -He muttered something about Rosny having a good eye, and then stopped to -adjust his cloak. We were by this time in the street. Making me go hand -in hand with him, he requested the other gentlemen to draw their swords; -and the servants being likewise armed and numbering half a score or -more, with pikes and torches, we made up a very formidable party, -and caused, I think, more alarm as we passed through the streets to -Rambouillet’s lodging than we had any reason to feel. Not that we had it -all to ourselves, for the attendance at Court that evening being large, -and the circle breaking up as I have described more abruptly than usual, -the vicinity of the castle was in a ferment, and the streets leading -from it were alive with the lights and laughter of parties similar to -our own. - -At the door of the marquis’s lodging I prepared to take leave of him -with many expressions of gratitude, but he would have me enter and -sit down with him to a light refection, which it was his habit to take -before retiring. Two of his gentlemen sat down with us, and a valet, who -was in his confidence, waiting on us, we made very merry over the scene -in the presence. I learned that M. de Bruhl was far from popular at -Court; but being known to possess some kind of hold over the king, and -enjoying besides a great reputation for recklessness and skill with the -sword, he had played a high part for a length of time, and attached to -himself, especially since the death of Guise, a considerable number of -followers. - -‘The truth is,’ one of the marquis’s gentlemen, who was a little heated -with wine, observed, ‘there is nothing at this moment which a bold and -unscrupulous man may not win in France!’ - -‘Nor a bold and Christian gentleman for France!’ replied M. de -Rambouillet with, some asperity. ‘By the way,’ he continued, turning -abruptly to the servant, ‘where is M. Francois?’ - -The valet answered that he had not returned with us from the castle. The -Marquis expressed himself annoyed at this, and I gathered, firstly, that -the missing man was his near kinsman, and, secondly, that he was also -the young spark who had been so forward to quarrel with me earlier in -the evening. Determining to refer the matter, should it become pressing, -to Rambouillet for adjustment, I took leave of him, and attended by -two of his servants, whom he kindly transferred to my service for the -present, I started towards my lodging a little before midnight. - -The moon had risen while we were at supper, and its light, which -whitened the gables on one side of the street, diffused a glimmer below -sufficient to enable us to avoid the kennel. Seeing this, I bade the -men put out our torch. Frost had set in, and a keen wind was blowing, -so that we were glad to hurry on at a good pace; and the streets being -quite deserted at this late hour, or haunted only by those who had come -to dread the town marshal, we met no one and saw no lights. I fell to -thinking, for my part, of the evening I had spent searching Blois for -Mademoiselle, and of the difference between then and now. Nor did I fail -while on this track to retrace it still farther to the evening of our -arrival at my mother’s; whence, as a source, such kindly and gentle -thoughts welled up in my mind as were natural, and the unfailing -affection of that gracious woman required. These, taking the place for -the moment of the anxious calculations and stern purposes which had of -late engrossed me, were only ousted by something which, happening under -my eyes, brought me violently and abruptly to myself. - -This was the sudden appearance of three men, who issued one by one from -an alley a score of yards in front of us, and after pausing a second -to look back the way they had come, flitted on in single file along -the street, disappearing, as far as the darkness permitted me to judge, -round a second corner. I by no means liked their appearance, and, as a -scream and the clash of arms rang out next moment from the direction in -which they had gone, I cried lustily to Simon Fleix to follow, and ran -on, believing from the rascals’ movements that they were after no good, -but that rather some honest man was like to be sore beset. - -On reaching the lane down which they had plunged, however, I paused a -moment, considering not so much its black-ness, which was intense, -the eaves nearly meeting overhead, as the small chance I had of -distinguishing between attackers and attacked. But Simon and the men -overtaking me, and the sounds of a sharp tussle still continuing, -I decided to venture, and plunged into the alley, my left arm well -advanced, with the skirt of my cloak thrown over it, and my sword drawn -back. I shouted as I ran, thinking that the knaves might desist on -hearing me; and this was what happened, for as I arrived on the scene of -action--the farther end of the alley--two men took to their heels, while -of two who remained, one lay at length in the kennel, and another rose -slowly from his knees. - -‘You are just in time, sir,’ the latter said, breathing hard, but -speaking with a preciseness which sounded familiar. ‘I am obliged to -you, sir, whoever you are. The villains had got me down, and in a few -minutes more would have made my mother childless. By the way, you have -no light, have you?’ he continued, lisping like a woman. - -One of M. de Rambouillet’s men, who had by this time come up, cried out -that it was Monsieur Francois. - -‘Yes, blockhead!’ the young gentleman answered with the utmost coolness. -‘But I asked for a light, not for my name. - -‘I trust you are not hurt, sir?’ I said, putting up my sword. - -‘Scratched only,’ he answered, betraying no surprise on learning who it -was had come up so opportunely; as he no doubt did learn from my voice, -for he continued with a bow, a slight price to pay for the knowledge -that M. de Marsac is as forward on the field as on the stairs.’ - -I bowed my acknowledgments. - -‘This fellow,’ I said, ‘is he much hurt?’ - -‘Tut, tut! I thought I had saved the marshal all trouble, M. Francois -replied. ‘Is he not dead, Gil?’ - -The poor wretch made answer for himself, crying out piteously, and in -a choking voice, for a priest to shrive him. At that moment Simon -Fleix returned with our torch, which he had lighted at the nearest -cross-streets, where there was a brazier, and we saw by this light that -the man was coughing up blood, and might live perhaps half an hour. - -‘Mordieu! That comes of thrusting too high!’ M. Francois muttered, -regretfully. An inch lower, and there would have been none of this -trouble! I suppose somebody must fetch one. Gil,’ he continued, ‘run, -man, to the sacristy in the Rue St. Denys, and get a Father. Or--stay! -Help to lift him under the lee of the wall there. The wind cuts like a -knife here.’ - -The street being on the slope of the hill, the lower part of the house -nearest us stood a few feet from the ground, on wooden piles, and the -space underneath it, being enclosed at the back and sides, was used as a -cart-house. The servants moved the dying man into this rude shelter, and -I accompanied them, being unwilling to leave the young gentleman alone. -Not wishing, however, to seem to interfere, I walked to the farther end, -and sat down on the shaft of a cart, whence I idly admired the strange -aspect of the group I had left, as the glare of the torch brought now -one and now another into prominence, and sometimes shone on M. Francois’ -jewelled fingers toying with his tiny moustache, and sometimes on the -writhing features of the man at his feet. - -On a sudden, and before Gil had started on his errand, I saw there was -a priest among them. I had not seen him enter, nor had I any idea whence -he came. My first impression was only that here was a priest, and that -he was looking at me--not at the man craving his assistance on the -floor, or at those who stood round him, but at me, who sat away in the -shadow beyond the ring of light! - -This was surprising; but a second glance explained it, for then I saw -that he was the Jacobin monk who had haunted my mother’s dying hours. -And, amazed as much at this strange RENCONTRE as at the man’s boldness, -I sprang up and strode forwards, forgetting, in an impulse of righteous -anger, the office he came to do. And this the more as his face, still -turned to me, seemed instinct to my eyes with triumphant malice. As I -moved towards him, however, with a fierce exclamation on my lips, he -suddenly dropped his eyes and knelt. Immediately M. Francois cried -‘Hush!’ and the men turned to me with scandalised faces. I fell back. -Yet even then, whispering on his knees by the dying man, the knave was -thinking, I felt sure, of me, glorying at once in his immunity and the -power it gave him to tantalise me without fear. - -I determined, whatever the result, to intercept him when all was over; -and on the man dying a few minutes later, I walked resolutely to the -open side of the shed, thinking it likely he might try to slip away as -mysteriously as he had come. He stood a moment speaking to M. Francois, -however, and then, accompanied by him, advanced boldly to meet me, a -lean smile on his face. - -‘Father Antoine,’ M. d’Agen said politely,’ tells me that he knows -you, M. de Marsac, and desires to speak to you, MAL-A-PROPOS as is the -occasion.’ - -‘And I to him,’ I answered, trembling with rage, and only restraining -by an effort the impulse which would have had me dash my hand in the -priest’s pale, smirking face. ‘I have waited long for this moment,’ I -continued, eyeing him steadily, as M. Francois withdrew out of hearing, -‘and had you tried to avoid me, I would have dragged you back, though -all your tribe were here to protect you.’ - -His presence so maddened me that I scarcely knew what I said. I felt my -breath come quickly, I felt the blood surge to my head, and it was -with difficulty I restrained myself when he answered with well-affected -sanctity, ‘Like mother, like son, I fear, sir. Huguenots both.’ - -I choked with rage. What!’ I said, ‘you dare to threaten me as you -threatened my mother? Fool! know that only to-day for the purpose of -discovering and punishing you I took the rooms in which my mother died.’ - -‘I know it,’ he answered quietly. And then in a second, as by magic, he -altered his demeanour completely, raising his head and looking me in the -face. ‘That, and so much besides, I know,’ he continued, giving me, to -my astonishment, frown for frown, ‘that if you will listen to me for a -moment, M. de Marsac, and listen quietly, I will convince you that the -folly is not on my side.’ - -Amazed at his new manner, in which there was none of the madness that -had marked him at our first meeting, but a strange air of authority, -unlike anything I had associated with him before, I signed to him to -proceed. - -‘You think that I am in your power?’ he said, smiling. - -‘I think,’ I retorted swiftly, ‘that, escaping me now, you will have at -your heels henceforth a worse enemy than even your own sins.’ - -‘Just so,’ he answered, nodding. ‘Well, I am going to show you that -the reverse is the case; and that you are as completely in my hands, to -spare or to break, as this straw. In the first place, you are here in -Blois, a Huguenot!’ - -‘Chut!’ I exclaimed contemptuously, affecting a confidence I was far -from feeling. ‘A little while back that might have availed you. But we -are in Blois, not Paris. It is not far to the Loire, and you have to -deal with a man now, not with a woman. It is you who have cause to -tremble, not I.’ - -‘You think to be protected,’ he answered with a sour smile, ‘even on -this side of the Loire, I see. But one word to the Pope’s Legate, or to -the Duke of Nevers, and you would see the inside of a dungeon, if not -worse. For the king--’ - -‘King or no king!’ I answered, interrupting him with more assurance than -I felt, seeing that I remembered only too well Henry’s remark that Rosny -must not look to him for protection, ‘I fear you not a whit! And that -reminds me. I have heard you talk treason--rank, black treason, priest, -as ever sent man to rope, and I will give you up. By heaven I will!’ I -cried, my rage increasing, as I discerned, more and more clearly, the -dangerous hold he had over me. ‘You have threatened me! One word, and I -will send you to the gallows!’ - -‘Sh!’ he answered, indicating M. Francois by, a gesture of the hand. -‘For your own sake, not mine. This is fine talking, but you have not -yet heard all I know. Would you like to hear how you have spent the last -month? Two days after Christmas, M. de Marsac, you left Chize with a -young lady--I can give you her name, if you please. Four days afterwards -you reached Blois, and took her to your mother’s lodging. Next morning -she left you for M. de Bruhl. Two days later you tracked her to a house -in the Ruelle d’Arcy, and freed her, but lost her in the moment of -victory. Then you stayed in Blois until your mother’s death, going a day -or two later to M. de Rosny’s house by Mantes, where mademoiselle still -is. Yesterday you arrived in Blois with M. de Rosny; you went to his -lodging; you--’ - -‘Proceed, I muttered, leaning forward. Under cover of my cloak I drew my -dagger half-way from its sheath. ‘Proceed, sir, I pray,’ I repeated with -dry lips. - -‘You slept there,’ he continued, holding his ground, but shuddering -slightly, either from cold or because he perceived my movement and read -my design in my eyes. - -‘This morning you remained here in attendance on M. de Rambouillet.’ - -For the moment I breathed freely again, perceiving that though he knew -much, the one thing on which M. de Rosny’s design turned had escaped -him. The secret interview with the king, which compromised alike Henry -himself and M. de Rambouillet, had apparently passed unnoticed and -unsuspected. With a sigh of intense relief I slid back the dagger, which -I had fully made up my mind to use had he known all, and drew my cloak -round me with a shrug of feigned indifference. I sweated to think what -he did know, but our interview with the king having escaped him, I -breathed again. - -‘Well, sir,’ I said curtly, ‘I have listened. And now, what is the -purpose of all this?’ - -‘My purpose?’ he answered, his eyes glittering. ‘To show you that you -are in my power. You are the agent of M. de Rosny. I, the agent, however -humble, of the Holy Catholic League. Of your movements I know all. What -do you know of mine?’ - -‘Knowledge,’ I made grim answer, ‘is not everything, sir priest.’ - -‘It is more than it was,’ he said, smiling his thin-lipped smile. ‘It is -going to be more than it is. And I know much--about you, M. de Marsac.’ - -‘You know too much!’ I retorted, feeling his covert threats close round -me like the folds of some great serpent. ‘But you are imprudent, I -think. Will you tell me what is to prevent me striking you through where -you stand, and ridding myself at a blow of so much knowledge?’ - -‘The presence of three men, M. de Marsac,’ he answered lightly, waving -his hand towards M. Francois and the others, ‘every one of whom would -give you up to justice. You forget that you are north of the Loire, -and that priests are not to be massacred here with impunity, as in your -lawless south-country. However, enough. The night is cold, and M. d’Agen -grows suspicious as well as impatient. We have, perhaps, spoken too -long already. Permit me--he bowed and drew back a step--‘to resume this -discussion to-morrow.’ - -Despite his politeness and the hollow civility with which he thus -sought; to close the interview, the light of triumph which shone in -his eyes, as the glare of the torch fell athwart them, no less than the -assured tone of his voice, told me clearly that he knew his power. -He seemed, indeed, transformed: no longer a slinking, peaceful clerk, -preying on a woman’s fears, but a bold and crafty schemer, skilled and -unscrupulous, possessed of hidden knowledge and hidden resources; the -personification of evil intellect. For a moment, knowing all I knew, and -particularly the responsibilities which lay before me, and the interests -committed to my hands, I quailed, confessing myself unequal to him. -I forgot the righteous vengeance I owed him; I cried out helplessly -against the ill-fortune which had brought him across my path. I saw -myself enmeshed and fettered beyond hope of escape, and by an effort -only controlled the despair I felt. - -‘To-morrow?’ I muttered hoarsely. ‘At what time?’ - -He shook his head with a cunning smile. ‘A thousand thanks, but I will -settle that myself!’ he answered. ‘Au revoir!’ and uttering a word of -leave-taking to M. Francois d’Agen, he blessed the two servants, and -went out into the night. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. THE OFFER OF THE LEAGUE. - -When the last sound of his footsteps died away, I awoke as from an evil -dream, and becoming conscious of the presence of M. Francois and the -servants, recollected mechanically that I owed the former an apology for -my discourtesy in keeping him standing in the cold. I began to offer it; -but my distress and confusion of mind were such that in the middle of a -set phrase I broke off, and stood looking fixedly at him, my trouble so -plain that he asked me civilly if anything ailed me. - -‘No,’ I answered, turning from him impatiently; ‘nothing, nothing, sir. -Or tell me,’ I continued, with an abrupt change of mind, ‘who is that; -who has just left us?’ - -‘Father Antoine, do you mean?’ - -‘Ay, Father Antoine, Father Judas, call him what you like,’ I rejoined -bitterly. - -‘Then if you leave the choice to me,’ M. Francois answered with grave -politeness, ‘I would rather call him something more pleasant, M. de -Marsac--James or John, let us say. For there is little said here which -does not come back to him. If walls have ears, the walls of Blois are -in his pay. But I thought you knew him,’ he continued. ‘He is secretary, -confidant, chaplain, what you will, to Cardinal Retz, and one of those -whom--in your ear--greater men court and more powerful men lean on. If I -had to choose between them, I would rather cross M. de Crillon.’ - -‘I am obliged to you,’ I muttered, checked as much by his manner as his -words. - -‘Not at all,’ he answered more lightly. ‘Any information I have is at -your disposal.’ - -However, I saw the imprudence of venturing farther, and hastened to -take leave of him, persuading him to allow one of M. de Rambouillet’s -servants to accompany him home. He said that he should call on me in the -morning; and forcing myself to answer him in a suitable manner, I saw -him depart one way, and myself, accompanied by Simon Fleix, went off -another. My feet were frozen with long standing--I think the corpse we -left was scarce colder--but my head was hot with feverish doubts and -fears. The moon had sunk and the streets were dark. Our torch had burned -out, and we had no light. But where my followers saw only blackness and -vacancy, I saw an evil smile and a lean visage fraught with menace and -exultation. - -For the more closely I directed my mind to the position in which I -stood, the graver it seemed. Pitted against Bruhl alone, amid strange -surroundings and in an atmosphere of Court intrigue, I had thought my -task sufficiently difficult and the disadvantages under which I laboured -sufficiently serious before this interview. Conscious of a certain -rustiness and a distaste for finesse, with resources so inferior to -Bruhl’s that even M. de Rosny’s liberality had not done much to make up -the difference, I had accepted the post offered me rather readily than -sanguinely; with joy, seeing that it held out the hope of high reward, -but with no certain expectation of success. Still, matched with a man of -violent and headstrong character, I had seen no reason to despair; nor -any why I might not arrange the secret meeting between the king and -mademoiselle with safety, and conduct to its end an intrigue simple and -unsuspected, and requiring for its execution rather courage and caution -than address or experience. - -Now, however, I found that Bruhl was not my only or my most dangerous -antagonist. Another was in the field--or, to speak more correctly, was -waiting outside the arena, ready to snatch the prize when we should have -disabled one another, From a dream of Bruhl and myself as engaged in -a competition for the king’s favour, wherein neither could expose the -other nor appeal even in the last resort to the joint-enemies of his -Majesty and ourselves, I awoke to a very different state of things; I -awoke to find those enemies the masters of the situation, possessed of -the clue to our plans, and permitting them only as long as they seemed -to threaten no serious peril to themselves. - -No discovery could be more mortifying or more fraught with terror. The -perspiration stood on my brow as I recalled the warning which M. de -Rosny had uttered against Cardinal Retz, or noted down the various -points of knowledge which were in Father Antoine’s possession. He knew -every event of the last month, with one exception, and could tell, I -verily believed, how many crowns I had in my pouch. Conceding this, and -the secret sources of information he must possess, what hope had I of -keeping my future movements from him? Mademoiselle’s arrival would be -known to him before she had well passed the gates; nor was it likely, -or even possible, that I should again succeed in reaching the king’s -presence untraced and unsuspected. En fin, I saw myself, equally with -Bruhl, a puppet in this man’s hands, my goings out and my comings in -watched and reported to him, his mercy the only bar between myself -and destruction. At any moment I might be arrested as a Huguenot, the -enterprise in which I was engaged ruined, and Mademoiselle de la Vire -exposed to the violence of Bruhl or the equally dangerous intrigues of -the League. - -Under these circumstances I fancied sleep impossible; but habit and -weariness are strong persuaders, and when I reached my lodging I slept -long and soundly, as became a man who had looked danger in the face more -than once. The morning light too brought an accession both of courage -and hope. I reflected on the misery of my condition at St. Jean -d’Angely, without friends or resources, and driven to herd with such -a man as Fresnoy. And telling myself that the gold crowns which M. de -Rosny had lavished upon me were not for nothing, nor the more precious -friendship with which he had honoured me a gift that called for no -return, I rose with new spirit and a countenance which threw Simon -Fleix who had seen me lie down the picture of despair--into the utmost -astonishment. - -‘You have had good dreams,’ he said, eyeing me jealously and with a -disturbed air. - -‘I had a very evil one last night,’ I answered lightly, wondering a -little why he looked at me so, and why he seemed to resent my return -to hopefulness and courage. I might have followed this train of thought -further with advantage, since I possessed a clue to his state of mind; -but at that moment a summons at the door called him away to it, and -he presently ushered in M. d’Agen, who, saluting me with punctilious -politeness, had not said fifty words before he introduced the subject -of his toe--no longer, however, in a hostile spirit, but as the -happy medium which had led him to recognise the worth and sterling -qualities--so he was pleased to say--of his preserver. - -I was delighted to find him in this frame of mind, and told him frankly -that the friendship with which his kinsman, M. de Rambouillet, honoured -me would prevent me giving him satisfaction save in the last resort. -He replied that the service I had done him was such as to render this -immaterial, unless I had myself cause of offence; which I was forward to -deny. - -We were paying one another compliments after this fashion, while I -regarded him with the interest which the middle-aged bestow on the young -and gallant in whom they see their own youth and hopes mirrored, when -the door was again opened, and after a moment’s pause admitted, equally, -I think, to the disgust of M. Francois, and myself, the form of Father -Antoine. - -Seldom have two men more diverse stood, I believe, in a room together; -seldom has any greater contrast been presented to a man’s eyes than that -opened to mine on this occasion. On the one side the gay young spark, -with his short cloak, his fine suit; of black-and-silver, his trim -limbs and jewelled hilt and chased comfit-box; on the other, the tall, -stooping monk, lean-jawed and bright-eyed, whose gown hung about him in -coarse, ungainly folds. And M. Francois’ sentiment on first seeing the -other was certainly dislike. Is spite of this, however, he bestowed a -greeting on the new-comer which evidenced a secret awe, and in other -ways showed so plain a desire to please, that I felt my fears of the -priest return in force. I reflected that the talents which in such a -garb could win the respect of M. Francois d’Agen--a brilliant star among -the younger courtiers, and one of a class much given to thinking scorn -of their fathers’ roughness--must be both great and formidable; and, -so considering, I received the monk with a distant courtesy which I had -once little thought to extend to him. I put aside for the moment the -private grudge I bore him with so much justice, and remembered only the -burden which lay on me in my contest with him. - -I conjectured without difficulty that he chose to come at this time, -when M. Francois was with me, out of a cunning regard to his own safety; -and I was not surprised when M. Francois, beginning to make his adieux, -Father Antoine begged him to wait below, adding that he had something -of importance to communicate. He advanced his request in terms of -politeness bordering on humility; but I could clearly see that, in -assenting to it, M. d’Agen bowed to a will stronger than his own, and -would, had he dared to follow his own bent, have given a very different -answer. As it was he retired--nominally to give an order to his -lackey--with a species of impatient self-restraint which it was not -difficult to construe. - -Left alone with me, and assured that we had no listeners, the monk was -not slow in coming to the point. - -‘You have thought over what I told you last night?’ he said brusquely, -dropping in a moment the suave manner which he had maintained in M. -Francois’s presence. - -I replied coldly that I had. - -‘And you understand the position?’ he continued quickly, looking at me -from under his brows as he stood before me, with one clenched fist on -the table. ‘Or shall I tell you more? Shall I tell you how poor and -despised you were some weeks ago, M. de Marsac--you who now go in -velvet, and have three men at your back? Or whose gold it is has brought -you here, and made you, this? Chut! Do not let us trifle. You are here -as the secret agent of the King of Navarre. It is my business to learn -your plans and his intentions, and I propose to do so.’ - -‘Well?’ I said. - -‘I am prepared to buy them,’ he answered; and his eyes sparkled as he -spoke, with a greed which set me yet more on my guard. - -‘For whom?’ I asked. Having made up my mind that I must use the same -weapons as my adversary, I reflected that to express indignation, such -as might become a young man new to the world, could, help me not a whit. -‘For whom?’ I repeated, seeing that he hesitated. - -‘That is my business,’ he replied slowly. - -‘You want to know too much and tell too little,’ I retorted, yawning. - -‘And you are playing with me,’ he cried, looking at me suddenly, with so -piercing a gaze and so dark a countenance that I checked a shudder with -difficulty. ‘So much the worse for you, so much the worse for you!’ he -continued fiercely. ‘I am here to buy the information you hold, but if -you will not sell, there is another way. At an hour’s notice I can ruin -your plans, and send you to a dungeon! You are like a fish caught in a -net not yet drawn. It thrusts its nose this way and that, and touches -the mesh, but is slow to take the alarm until the net is drawn--and then -it is too late. So it is with you, and so it is,’ he added, falling -into the ecstatic mood which marked him at times, and left me in doubt -whether he were all knave or in part enthusiast, ‘with all those who set -themselves against St. Peter and his Church!’ - -‘I have heard you say much the same of the King of France,’ I said -derisively. - -‘You trust in him?’ he retorted, his eyes gleaming. ‘You have been -up there, and seen his crowded chamber, and counted his forty-five -gentlemen and his grey-coated Swiss? I tell you the splendour you saw -was a dream, and will vanish as a dream. The man’s strength and his -glory shall go from him, and that soon. Have you no eyes to see that -he is beside the question? There are but two powers in France--the Holy -Union, which still prevails, and the accursed Huguenot; and between them -is the battle.’ - -‘Now you are telling me more,’ I said. - -He grew sober in a moment, looking at me with a vicious anger hard to -describe. - -‘Tut tut,’ he said, showing his yellow teeth, ‘the dead tell no tales. -And for Henry of Valois, he so loves a monk that you might better accuse -his mistress. But for you, I have only to cry “Ho! a Huguenot and a -spy!” and though he loved you more than he loved Quelus or Maugiron, he -dare not stretch out a finger to save you!’ - -I knew that he spoke the truth, and with difficulty maintained the air -of indifference with which I had entered on the interview. - -‘But what if I leave Blois?’ I ventured, merely to see what he would -say. - -He laughed. ‘You cannot,’ he answered. ‘The net is round you, M. de -Marsac, and there are those at every gate who know you and have their -instructions. I can destroy you, but I would fain have your information, -and for that I will pay you five hundred crowns and let you go.’ - -‘To fall into the hands of the King of Navarre?’ - -‘He will disown you, in any case,’ he answered eagerly. ‘He had that -in his mind, my friend, when he selected an agent so obscure. He will -disown you. Ah, mon Dieu! had I been an hour quicker I had caught -Rosny--Rosny himself!’ - -‘There is one thing lacking still,’ I replied. ‘How am I to be sure -that, when I have told you what I know, you will pay me the money or let -me go?’ - -‘I will swear to it!’ he answered earnestly, deceived into thinking I -was about to surrender. ‘I will give you my oath, M. de Marsac!’ - -‘I would as soon have your shoe-lace!’ I exclaimed, the indignation I -could not entirely repress finding vent in that phrase. ‘A Churchman’s -vow is worth a candle--or a candle and a half, is it?’ I continued -ironically. ‘I must have some security a great deal more substantial -than that, father.’ - -‘What?’ he asked, looking at me gloomily. - -Seeing an opening, I cudgelled my brains to think of any condition -which, being fulfilled, might turn the table on him and place him in my -power. But his position was so strong, or my wits so weak, that nothing -occurred to me at the time, and I sat looking at, him, my mind gradually -passing from the possibility of escape to the actual danger in which -I stood, and which encompassed also Simon Fleix, and, in a degree, -doubtless, M. de Rambouillet. In four or five days, too, Mademoiselle de -la Vire would arrive. I wondered if I could send any warning to her; -and then, again, I doubted the wisdom of interfering with M. de Rosny’s -plans, the more as Maignan, who had gone to fetch mademoiselle, was of a -kind to disregard any orders save his master’s. - -‘Well!’ said the monk, impatiently recalling me to myself, ‘what -security do you want?’ - -‘I am not quite sure at this moment,’ I made answer slowly. ‘I am in a -difficult position. I must have some time to consider.’ - -‘And to rid yourself of me, if it be possible,’ he said with irony. ‘I -quite understand. But I warn you that you are watched; and that wherever -you go and whatever you do, eyes which are mine are upon you.’ - -‘I, too, understand,’ I said coolly. - -He stood awhile uncertain, regarding me with mingled doubt and -malevolence, tortured on the one hand by fear of losing the prize if -he granted delay, on the other of failing as utterly if he exerted his -power and did not succeed in subduing my resolution. I watched him, too, -and gauging his eagerness and the value of the stake for which he was -striving by the strength of his emotions, drew small comfort from the -sight. More than once it had occurred to me, and now it occurred to me -again, to extricate myself by a blow. But a natural reluctance to strike -an unarmed man, however vile and knavish, and the belief that he had -not trusted himself in my power without taking the fullest precautions, -withheld me. When he grudgingly, and with many dark threats, proposed to -wait three days--and not an hour more--for my answer, I accepted; for I -saw no other alternative open. And on these terms, but not without -some short discussion, we parted, and I heard his stealthy footstep go -sneaking down the stairs. - - - -CHAPTER XIX. MEN CALL IT CHANCE. - -If I were telling more than the truth, or had it in my mind to embellish -my adventures, I could, doubtless, by the exercise of a little ingenuity -make it appear that I owed my escape from Father Antoine’s meshes to -my own craft; and tell, en fin, as pretty a story of plots and -counterplots as M. de Brantome has ever woven. Having no desire, -however, to magnify myself and, at this time of day, scarcely any -reason, I am fain to confess that the reverse was the case; and that -while no man ever did less to free himself than I did, my adversary -retained his grasp to the end, and had surely, but for a strange -interposition, effected my ruin. How relief came, and from what quarter, -I might defy the most ingenious person, after reading my memoirs to this -point, to say; and this not so much by reason of any subtle device, as -because the hand of Providence was for once directly manifest. - -The three days of grace which the priest had granted I passed in anxious -but futile search for some means of escape, every plan I conceived dying -stillborn, and not the least of my miseries lying in the fact that I -could discern no better course than still to sit and think, and seemed -doomed to perpetual inaction. M. de Rambouillet being a strict Catholic, -though in all other respects a patriotic man, I knew better than to have -recourse to him; and the priest’s influence over M. d’Agen I had myself -witnessed. For similar reasons I rejected the idea of applying to the -king; and this exhausting the list of those on whom I had any claim, I -found myself thrown on my own resources, which seemed limited--my wits -failing me at this pinch--to my sword and Simon Fleix. - -Assured that I must break out of Blois if I would save not myself only, -but others more precious because entrusted to my charge, I thought it no -disgrace to appeal to Simon; describing in a lively fashion the danger -which threatened us, and inciting the lad by every argument which I -thought likely to have weight with him to devise some way of escape. - -Now is the time, my friend,’ I said, ‘to show your wits, and prove that -M. de Rosny, who said you had a cunning above the ordinary, was right. -If your brain can ever save your head, now is the time! For I tell you -plainly, if you cannot find some way to outmanoeuvre this villain before -to-morrow, I am spent. You can judge for yourself what chance you will -have of going free.’ - -I paused at that, waiting for him to make some suggestion. To my chagrin -he remained silent, leaning his head on his hand, and studying the -table with his eyes in a sullen fashion; so that I began to regret -the condescension I had evinced in letting him be seated, and found it -necessary to remind him that he had taken service with me, and must do -my bidding. - -‘Well,’ he said morosely, and without looking up, ‘I am ready to do it. -But I do not like priests, and this one least of all. I know him, and I -will not meddle with him.’ - -‘You will not meddle with him?’ I cried, almost beside myself with -dismay. - -‘No, I won’t,’ he replied, retaining his listless attitude. ‘I know him, -and I am afraid of him. I am no match for him.’ - -‘Then M. de Rosny was wrong, was he?’ I said, giving way to my anger. - -‘If it please you,’ he answered pertly. - -This was too much for me. My riding-switch lay handy, and I snatched -it up. Before he knew what I would be at, I fell upon him, and gave him -such a sound wholesome drubbing as speedily brought him to his senses. -When he cried for mercy--which he did not for a good space, being still -possessed by the peevish devil which had ridden him ever since his -departure from Rosny--I put it to him again whether M. de Rosny was not -right. When he at last admitted this, but not till then, I threw the -whip away and let him go, but did not cease to reproach him as he -deserved. - -‘Did you think,’ I said, ‘that I was going to be ruined because you -would not use your lazy brains? That I was going to sit still, and let -you sulk, while mademoiselle walked blindfold into the toils? Not at -all, my friend!’ - -‘Mademoiselle!’ he exclaimed, looking at me with a sudden change of -countenance, end ceasing to rub himself and scowl, as he had been doing. -‘She is not here, and is in no danger.’ - -‘She will be here to-morrow, or the next day,’ I said. - -You did not tell me that!’ he replied, his eyes glittering. ‘Does Father -Antoine know it?’ - -‘He will know it the moment she enters the town,’ I answered. - -Noting the change which the introduction of mademoiselle’s name into the -affair had wrought in him, I felt something like humiliation. But at the -moment I had no choice; it was my business to use such instruments as -came to my hand, and not, mademoiselle’s safety being at stake, to pick -and choose too nicely. In a few minutes our positions were reversed. The -lad had grown as hot as I cold, as keenly excited as I critical. When -he presently came to a stand in front of me, I saw a strange likeness -between his face and the priest’s; nor was I astonished when he -presently made just such a proposal as I should have expected from -Father Antoine himself. - -‘There is only one thing for it,’ he muttered, trembling all over. ‘He -must be got rid of!’ - -‘Fine talking!’ I said, contemptuously. ‘If he were a soldier he might -be brought to it. But he is a priest, my friend, and does not fight.’ - -‘Fight? Who wants him to fight?’ the lad answered, his face dark, his -hands moving restlessly. ‘It is the easier done. A blow in the back, and -he will trouble us no more.’ - -‘Who is to strike it?’ I asked drily. - -Simon trembled and hesitated; but presently, heaving a deep sigh, he -said, ‘I will.’ - -‘It might not be difficult,’ I muttered, thinking it over. - -‘It would be easy,’ he answered under his breath. His eyes shone, his -lips were white, and his long dark hair hung wet over his forehead. - -I reflected, and the longer I did so the more feasible seemed the -suggestion. A single word, and I might sweep from my path the man whose -existence threatened mine; who would not meet me fairly, but, working -against me darkly and treacherously, deserved no better treatment at my -hands than that which a detected spy receives. He had wronged my mother; -he would fain destroy my friends! - -And, doubtless, I shall be blamed by some and ridiculed by more for -indulging in scruples at such a time. But I have all my life long been -prejudiced against that form of underhand violence which I have heard -old men contend came into fashion in our country in modern times, and -which certainly seems to be alien from the French character. Without -judging others too harshly, or saying that the poniard is never -excusable--for then might some wrongs done to women and the helpless -go without remedy--I have set my face against its use as unworthy of a -soldier. At the time, moreover, of which I am now writing the extent to -which our enemies had lately resorted to it tended to fix this feeling -with peculiar firmness in my mind; and, but for the very desperate -dilemma in which I stood at the moment--and not I alone--I do not think -that I should have entertained Simon’s proposal for a minute. - -As it was, I presently answered him in a way which left him in no doubt -of my sentiments. ‘Simon, my friend,’ I said--and I remember I was a -little moved--‘you have something still to learn, both as a soldier and -a Huguenot. Neither the one nor the other strikes at the back.’ - -‘But if he will not fight?’ the lad retorted rebelliously. ‘What then?’ - -It was so clear that our adversary gained an unfair advantage in this -way that I could not answer the question. I let it pass, therefore, and -merely repeating my former injunction, bade Simon think out another way. - -He promised reluctantly to do so, and, after spending some moments in -thought, went out to learn whether the house was being watched. - -When he returned, his countenance wore so new an expression that I saw -at once that something had happened. He did not meet my eye, however, -and did not explain, but made as if he would go out again, with -something of confusion in his manner. Before finally disappearing, -however, he seemed to change his mind once more; for, marching up to me -where I stood eyeing him with the utmost astonishment, he stopped before -me, and suddenly drawing out his hand, thrust something into mine. - -‘What is it, man?’ I said mechanically. - -‘Look!’ he answered rudely, breaking silence for the first time. ‘You -should know. Why ask me? What have I to do with it?’ - -I looked then, and saw that he had given me a knot of velvet precisely -similar is shape, size, and material to that well-remembered one which -had aided me so opportunely in my search for mademoiselle. This differed -from that a little in colour, but in nothing else, the fashion of the -bow being the same, and one lappet hearing the initials ‘C. d. l. V.,’ -while the other had the words, ‘A moi.’ I gazed at it in wonder. ‘But, -Simon,’ I said, ‘what does it mean? Where did you get it?’ - -‘Where should I get it?’ he answered jealously. Then, seeming to -recollect himself, he changed his tone. ‘A woman gave it to me in the -street,’ he said. - -I asked him what woman. - -‘How should I know?’ he answered, his eyes gleaming with anger. ‘It was -a woman in a mask.’ - -‘Was it Fanchette?’ I said sternly. - -‘It might have been. I do not know,’ he responded. - -I concluded at first that mademoiselle and her escort had arrived in the -outskirts of the city, and that Maignan had justified his reputation -for discretion by sending in to learn from me whether the way was clear -before he entered. In this notion I was partly confirmed and partly -shaken by the accompanying message; which Simon, from whom every scrap -of information had to be dragged as blood from a stone, presently -delivered. - -‘You are to meet the sender half an hour after sunset to-morrow -evening,’ he said, ‘on the Parvis at the north-east corner of the -cathedral.’ - -‘To-morrow evening?’ - -‘Yes, when else?’ the lad answered ungraciously. ‘I said to-morrow -evening.’ - -I thought this strange. I could understand why Maignan should prefer to -keep his charge outside the walls until he heard from me, but not why -he should postpone a meeting so long. The message, too, seemed -unnecessarily meagre, and I began to think Simon was still withholding -something. - -‘Was that all?’ I asked him. - -‘Yes, all,’ he answered, ‘except--’ - -‘Except what?’ I said sternly. - -‘Except that the woman showed me the gold token Mademoiselle de la -Vire used to carry,’ he answered reluctantly, ‘and said, if you wanted -further assurance that would satisfy you.’ - -‘Did you see the coin?’ I cried eagerly. - -‘To be sure,’ he answered. - -‘Then, mon dieu!’ I retorted, ‘either you are deceiving me, or the woman -you saw deceived you. For mademoiselle has not got the token! I have it -here, in my possession! Now, do you still say you saw it, man?’ - -‘I saw one like it,’ he answered, trembling, his face damp. ‘That I will -swear. And the woman told me what I have told you. And no more.’ - -‘Then it is clear,’ I answered, ‘that mademoiselle has nothing to do -with this, and is doubtless many a league away. This is one of M. de -Bruhl’s tricks. Fresnoy gave him the token he stole from me. And I -told him the story of the velvet knot myself. This is a trap; and had -I fallen into it, and gone to the Parvis to-morrow evening, I had never -kept another assignation, my lad.’ - -Simon looked thoughtful. Presently he said, with a crestfallen air, ‘You -were to go alone. The woman said that.’ - -Though I knew well why he had suppressed this item, I forbore to blame -him. ‘What was the woman like?’ I said. - -‘She had very much of Franchette’s figure,’ he answered. He could not -go beyond that. Blinded by the idea that the woman was mademoiselle’s -attendant, and no one else, he had taken little heed of her, and could -not even say for certain that she was not a man in woman’s clothes. - -I thought the matter over and discussed it with him; and was heartily -minded to punish M. de Bruhl, if I could discover a way of turning his -treacherous plot against himself. But the lack of any precise knowledge -of his plans prevented me stirring in the matter; the more as I felt no -certainty that I should be master of my actions when the time came. - -Strange to say the discovery of this movement on the part of Bruhl, who -had sedulously kept himself in the background since the scene in the -king’s presence, far from increasing my anxieties, had the effect of -administering a fillip to my spirits; which the cold and unyielding -pressure of the Jacobin had reduced to a low point. Here was something I -could understand, resist, and guard against. The feeling that I had -once more to do with a man of like aims and passions with myself quickly -restored me to the use of my faculties; as I have heard that a swordsman -opposed to the powers of evil regains his vigour on finding himself -engaged with a mortal foe. Though I knew that the hours of grace were -fast running to a close, and that on the morrow the priest would call -for an answer, I experienced that evening an unreasonable lightness and -cheerfulness. I retired to rest with confidence, and slept in comfort, -supported in part, perhaps, by the assurance that in that room where my -mother died her persecutor could have no power to harm me. - -Upon Simon Fleix, on the other hand, the discovery that Bruhl was -moving, and that consequently peril threatened us from a new quarter, -had a different effect. He fell into a state of extreme excitement, and -spent the evening and a great part of the night in walking restlessly -up and down the room, wrestling with the fears and anxieties which beset -us, and now talking fast to himself, now biting his nails in an agony -of impatience. In vain I adjured him not to meet troubles halfway; or, -pointing to the pallet which he occupied at the foot of my couch, bade -him, if he could not devise a way of escape, at least to let the matter -rest until morning. He had no power to obey, but, tortured by the vivid -anticipations which it was his nature to entertain, he continued to -ramble to and fro in a fever of the nerves, and had no sooner lain -down than be was up again. Remembering, however, how well he had borne -himself on the night of mademoiselle’s escape from Blois, I refrained -from calling him a coward; and contented myself instead with the -reflection that nothing sits worse on a fighting-man than too much -knowledge--except, perhaps, a lively imagination. - -I thought it possible that mademoiselle might arrive next day before -Father Antoine called to receive his answer. In this event I hoped to -have the support of Maignan’s experience. But the party did not arrive. -I had to rely on myself and my own resources, and, this being so, -determined to refuse the priest’s offer, but in all other things to be -guided by circumstances. - -About noon he came, attended, as was his practice, by two friends, -whom he left outside. He looked paler and more shadowy than before, I -thought, his hands thinner, and his cheeks more transparent. I could -draw no good augury, however, from these, signs of frailty, for the -brightness of his eyes and the unusual elation of his manner told -plainly of a spirit assured of the mastery. He entered the room with an -air of confidence, and addressed me in a tone of patronage which left me -in no doubt of his intentions; the frankness with which he now laid bare -his plans going far to prove that already he considered me no better -than his tool. - -I did not at once undeceive him, but allowed him to proceed, and even -to bring out the five hundred crowns which he had promised me, and the -sight of which he doubtless supposed would clench the matter. - -Seeing this he became still less reticent, and spoke so largely that I -presently felt myself impelled to ask him if he would answer a question. - -‘That is as may be, M. de Marsac,’ he answered lightly. ‘You may ask -it.’ - -‘You hint at great schemes which you have in hand, father,’ I said. -‘You speak of France and Spain and Navarre, and kings and Leagues and -cardinals! You talk of secret strings, and would have me believe that if -I comply with your wishes I shall find you as powerful a patron as M. de -Rosny. But--one moment, if you please,’ I continued hastily, seeing that -he was about to interrupt me with such eager assurances as I had already -heard; ‘tell me this. With so many irons in the fire, why did you -interfere with one old gentlewoman--for the sake of a few crowns?’ - -‘I will tell you even that,’ he answered, his face flushing at my tone. -‘Have you ever heard of an elephant? Yes. Well, it has a trunk, you -know, with which it can either drag an oak from the earth or lift -a groat from the ground. It is so with me. But again you ask,’ he -continued with an airy grimace, ‘why I wanted a few crowns. Enough that -I did. There are going to be two things in the world, and two only, M. -de Marsac: brains and money. The former I have, and had: the latter I -needed--and took.’ - -‘Money and brains?’ I said, looking at him thoughtfully. - -‘Yes,’ he answered, his eyes sparkling, his thin nostrils beginning to -dilate. ‘Give me these two, and I will rule France!’ - -‘You will rule France?’ I exclaimed, amazed beyond measure by his -audacity. ‘You, man?’ - -‘Yes, I,’ he answered, with abominable coolness. ‘I, priest, monk, -Churchman, clerk. You look surprised, but mark you, sir, there is a -change going on. Our time is coming, and yours is going. What hampers -our lord the king and shuts him up in Blois, while rebellions stalk -through France? Lack of men? No; but lack of money. Who can get the -money for him--you the soldier, or I the clerk? A thousand times, I! -Therefore, my time is coming, and before you die you will see a priest -rule France.’ - -‘God forbid it should be you,’ I answered scornfully. - -‘As you please,’ he answered, shrugging his shoulders, and assuming in -a breath a mask of humility which sat as ill on his monstrous conceit -as ever nun’s veil on a trooper. ‘Yet it may even be I; by the favour of -the Holy Catholic Church, whose humble minister I am.’ - -I sprang up with a great oath at that, having no stomach for more of the -strange transformations, in which this man delighted, and whereof the -last had ever the air of being the most hateful. ‘You villain!’ I cried, -twisting my moustaches, a habit I have when enraged. ‘And so you would -make me a stepping-stone to your greatness. You would bribe me--a -soldier and a gentleman. Go, before I do you a mischief. That is all -I have to say to you. Go! You have your answer. I will tell you -nothing--not a jot or a tittle. Begone from my room!’ - -He fell back a step in his surprise, and stood against the table biting -his nails and scowling at me, fear and chagrin contending with half a -dozen devils for the possession of his face. ‘So you have been deceiving -me,’ he said slowly, and at last. - -‘I have let you deceive yourself’ I answered, looking at him with scorn, -but with little of the fear with which he had for a while inspired me. -‘Begone, and do your worst.’ - -‘You know what you are doing,’ he said. ‘I have that will hang you, M. -de Marsac--or worse.’ - -‘Go!’ I cried. - -‘You have thought of your friends,’ he continued mockingly. - -‘Go!’ I said. - -‘Of Mademoiselle de la Vire, if by any chance she fall into my hands? -It will not be hanging for her. You remember the two Foucauds?’--and he -laughed. - -The vile threat, which I knew he had used to my mother, so worked upon -me that I strode forward unable to control myself longer. In another -moment I had certainly taken him by the throat and squeezed the life out -of his miserable carcase, had not Providence in its goodness intervened -to save me. The door, on which he had already laid his hand in terror, -opened suddenly. It admitted Simon, who, closing it; behind him, stood -looking from one to the other of us in nervous doubt; divided between -that respect for the priest which a training at the Sorbonne had -instilled into him, and the rage which despair arouses in the weakest. - -His presence, while it checked me in my purpose, seemed to give Father -Antoine courage, for the priest stood his ground, and even turned to me -a second time, his face dark with spite and disappointment. ‘Good,’ he -said hoarsely. ‘Destroy yourself if you will! I advise you to bar -your door, for in an hour the guards will be here to fetch you to the -question.’ - -Simon cried out at the threat, so that I turned and looked at the lad. -His knees were shaking, his hair stood on end. - -The priest saw his terror and his own opportunity. ‘Ay, in an hour,’ he -continued slowly, looking at him with cruel eyes. ‘In an hour, lad! You -must be fond of pain to court it, and out of humour with life to throw -it away. Or stay,’ he continued abruptly, after considering Simon’s -narrowly for a moment, and doubtless deducing from it a last hope, ‘I -will be merciful. I will give you one more chance.’ - -‘And yourself?’ I said with a sneer. - -‘As you please,’ he answered, declining to be diverted from the -trembling lad, whom his gaze seemed to fascinate. ‘I will give you until -half an hour after sunset this evening to reconsider the matter. If you -make up your minds to accept my terms, meet me then. I leave to-night -for Paris, and I will give you until the last moment. But,’ he continued -grimly, ‘if you do not meet me, or, meeting me, remain obstinate--God do -so to me, and more also, if you see the sun rise thrice.’ - -Some impulse, I know not what, seeing that I had no thought of accepting -his terms or meeting him, led me to ask briefly, ‘Where?’ - -‘On the Parvis of the Cathedral,’ he answered after a moment’s -calculation. ‘At the north-east corner, half an hour after sunset. It is -a quiet spot.’ - -Simon uttered a stifled exclamation. And then for a moment there was -silence in the room, while the lad breathed hard and irregularly, and I -stood rooted to the spot, looking so long and so strangely at the priest -that Father Antoine laid his hand again on the door and glanced uneasily -behind him. Nor was he content until he had hit on, as he fancied, the -cause of my strange regard. - -‘Ha!’ he said, his thin lip curling in conceit at his astuteness, ‘I -understand you think to kill me to-night? Let me tell you, this house is -watched. If you leave here to meet me with any companion--unless it be -M. d’Agen, whom I can trust, I shall be warned, and be gone before you -reach the rendezvous. And gone, mind you,’ he added, with a grim smile, -‘to sign your death-warrant.’ - -He went out with that, closing the door behind him; and we heard his -step go softly down the staircase. I gazed at Simon, and he at me, with -all the astonishment and awe which it was natural we should feel in -presence of so remarkable a coincidence. - -For by a marvel the priest had named the same spot and the same time as -the sender of the velvet knot! - -‘He will go,’ Simon said, his face flushed and his voice trembling, ‘and -they will go.’ - -‘And in the dark they will not know him,’ I muttered. ‘He is about my -height. They will take him for me!’ - -‘And kill him!’ Simon cried hysterically. ‘They will kill him! He goes -to his death, monsieur. It is the finger of God.’ - - - -CHAPTER XX. THE KING’S FACE. - -It seemed so necessary to bring home the crime to Bruhl should the -priest really perish in the trap laid for me, that I came near to -falling into one of those mistakes to which men of action are prone. For -my first impulse was to follow the priest to the Parvis, closely enough, -if possible, to detect the assassins in the act, and with sufficient -force, if I could muster it, to arrest them. The credit of dissuading -me from this course lies with Simon, who pointed out its dangers in -so convincing a manner that I was brought with little difficulty to -relinquish it. - -Instead, acting on his advice, I sent him to M. d’Agen’s lodging, to beg -that young gentleman to call upon me before evening. After searching -the lodging and other places in vain, Simon found M. d’Agen in the -tennis-court at the Castle, and, inventing a crafty excuse, brought him -to my lodging a full hour before the time. - -My visitor was naturally surprised to find that I had nothing particular -to say to him. I dared not tell him what occupied my thoughts, and -for the rest invention failed me. But his gaiety and those pretty -affectations on which he spent an infinity of pains, for the purpose, -apparently, of hiding the sterling worth of a character deficient -neither in courage nor backbone, were united to much good nature. -Believing at last that I had sent for him in a fit of the vapours, -he devoted himself to amusing me and abusing Bruhl--a very favourite -pastime with him. And in this way he made out a call of two hours. - -I had not long to wait for proof of Simon’s wisdom in taking this -precaution. We thought it prudent to keep within doors after our guest’s -departure, and so passed the night in ignorance whether anything had -happened or not. But about seven next morning one of the Marquis’s -servants, despatched by M. d’Agen, burst in upon us with the news--which -was no news from the moment his hurried footstep sounded on the stairs -that Father Antoine had been set upon and killed the previous evening! - -I heard this confirmation of my hopes with grave thankfulness; Simon -with so much emotion that when the messenger was gone he sat down on a -stool and began to sob and tremble as if he had lost his mother, instead -of a mortal foe. I took advantage of the occasion to read him a sermon -on the end of crooked courses; nor could I myself recall without a -shudder the man’s last words to me; or the lawless and evil designs in -which he had rejoiced, while standing on the very brink of the pit which -was to swallow up both him and them in everlasting darkness. - -Naturally, the uppermost feeling in my mind was relief. I was free once -more. In all probability the priest had kept his knowledge to himself, -and without him his agents would be powerless. Simon, it is true, heard -that the town was much excited by the event; and that many attributed -it to the Huguenots. But we did not suffer ourselves to be depressed -by this, nor had I any foreboding until the sound of a second hurried -footstep mounting the stairs reached our ears. - -I knew the step in a moment for M. d’Agen’s, and something ominous in -its ring brought me to my feet before he opened the door. Significant as -was his first hasty look round the room, he recovered at sight of me -all his habitual SANG-FROID. He saluted me, and spoke coolly, though -rapidly. But he panted, and I noticed in a moment that he had lost his -lisp. - -‘I am happy in finding you,’ he said, closing the door carefully behind -him, ‘for I am the bearer of ill news, and there is not a moment to -be lost. The king has signed an order for your instant consignment to -prison, M. de Marsac, and, once there, it is difficult to say what may -not happen.’ - -‘My consignment?’ I exclaimed. I may be pardoned if the news for a -moment found me unprepared. - -‘Yes,’ he replied quickly. ‘The king has signed it at the instance of -Marshal Retz.’ - -‘But for what?’ I cried in amazement. - -‘The murder of Father Antoine. You will pardon me,’ he continued -urgently, ‘but this is no time for words. The Provost-Marshal is even -now on his way to arrest you. Your only hope is to evade him, and gain -an audience of the king. I have persuaded my uncle to go with you, -and he is waiting at his lodgings. There is not a moment to be -lost, however, if you would reach the king’s presence before you are -arrested.’ - -‘But I am innocent!’ I cried. - -‘I know it,’ M. d’Agen answered, ‘and can prove it. But if you cannot -get speech of the king innocence will avail you nothing. You have -powerful enemies. Come without more ado, M. de Marsac, I pray,’ he -added. - -His manner, even more than his words, impressed me with a sense of -urgency; and postponing for a time my own judgment, I hurriedly thanked -him for his friendly offices. Snatching up my sword, which lay on a -chair, I buckled it on; for Simon’s fingers trembled so violently he -could give me no help. This done I nodded to M. d’Agen to go first, and -followed him from the room, Simon attending us of his own motion. It -would be then about eleven o’clock in the forenoon. - -My companion ran down the stairs without ceremony, and so quickly it was -all I could do to keep up with him. At the outer door he signed me to -stand, and darting himself into the street, he looked anxiously in the -direction of the Rue St. Denys. Fortunately the coast was still clear, -and he beckoned to me to follow him. I did so and starting to walk in -the opposite direction as fast as we could, in less than a minute we had -put a corner between us and the house. - -Our hopes of escaping unseen, however, were promptly dashed. The house, -I have said, stood in a quiet by-street, which was bounded on the -farther side by a garden-wall buttressed at intervals. We had scarcely -gone a dozen paces from my door when a man slipped from the shelter of -one of these buttresses, and after a single glance at us, set off to run -towards the Rue St. Denys. - -M. d’Agen looked back and nodded. ‘There goes the news,’ he said. ‘They -will try to cut us off, but I think we have the start of them.’ - -I made no reply, feeling that I had resigned myself entirely into his -hands. But as we passed through the Rue de Valois, in part of which a -market was held at this hour, attracting a considerable concourse of -peasants and others, I fancied I detected signs of unusual bustle and -excitement. It seemed unlikely that news of the priest’s murder should -affect so many people and to such a degree, and I asked M. d’Agen what -it meant. - -‘There is a rumour abroad,’ he answered, without slackening speed, ‘that -the king intends to move south to Tours at once.’ - -I muttered my surprise and satisfaction. ‘He will come to terms with the -Huguenots then?’ I said. - -‘It looks like it,’ M. d’Agen rejoined. ‘Retz’s party are in an -ill-humour on that account, and will wreak it on you if they get a -chance. On guard!’ he added abruptly. ‘Here are two of them!’ - -As he spoke we emerged from the crowd, and I saw, half a dozen paces -in front; of us, and coming to meet us, a couple of Court gallants, -attended by as many servants. They espied us at the same moment, and -came across the street, which was tolerably wide at that part, with the -evident intention of stopping us. Simultaneously, however, we crossed to -take their side, and so met them face to face in the middle of the way. - -‘M. d’Agen,’ the foremost exclaimed, speaking in a haughty tone, and -with a dark side glance at me, ‘I am sorry to see you in such company! -Doubtless you are not aware that this gentleman is the subject of an -order which has even now been issued to the Provost-Marshal.’ - -‘And if so, sir? What of that?’ my companion lisped in his silkiest -tone. - -‘What of that?’ the other cried, frowning, and pushing slightly forward. - -‘Precisely,’ M. d’Agen repeated, laying his hand on his hilt and -declining to give back. ‘I am not aware that his Majesty has appointed -you Provost-Marshal, or that you have any warrant, M. Villequier, -empowering you to stop gentlemen in the public streets.’ - -M. Villequier reddened with anger. ‘You are young, M. d’Agen,’ he said, -his voice quivering, ‘or I would make you pay dearly for that!’ - -‘My friend is not young,’ M. d’Agen retorted, bowing. ‘He is a gentleman -of birth, M. Villequier; by repute, as I learned yesterday, one of the -best swordsmen in France, and no Gascon. If you feel inclined to arrest -him, do so, I pray. And I will have the honour of engaging your son.’ - -As we had all by this time our hands on our swords, there needed but a -blow to bring about one of those street brawls which were more common -then than now. A number of market-people, drawn to the spot by our -raised voices, had gathered round, and were waiting eagerly to see what -would happen. But Villeqier, as my companion perhaps knew, was a Gascon -in heart as well as by birth, and seeing our determined aspects, thought -better of it. Shrugging his shoulders with an affectation of disdain -which imposed on no one, he signalled to his servants to go on, and -himself stood aside. - -‘I thank you for your polite offer,’ he said with an evil smile, ‘and -will remember it. But as you say, sir, I am not the Provost-Marshal.’ - -Paying little heed to his words, we bowed, passed him, and hurried on. -But the peril was not over. Not only had the RENCONTRE cost us some -precious minutes, but the Gascon, after letting us proceed a little way, -followed us. And word being passed by his servants, as we supposed, that -one of us was the murderer of Father Antoine, the rumour spread through -the crowd like wildfire, and in a few moments we found ourselves -attended by a troop of CANAILLE who, hanging on our skirts, caused Simon -Fleix no little apprehension. Notwithstanding the contempt which M. -d’Agen, whose bearing throughout was admirable, expressed for them, we -might have found it necessary to turn and teach them a lesson had we not -reached M. de Rambouillet’s in the nick of time; where we found the -door surrounded by half a dozen armed servants, at sight of whom our -persecutors fell back with the cowardice which is usually found in that -class. - -If I had been tempted of late to think M. de Rambouillet fickle, I had -no reason to complain now; whether his attitude was due to M. d’Agen’s -representations, or to the reflection that without me the plans he had -at heart must miscarry. I found him waiting within, attended by three -gentlemen, all cloaked and ready for the road; while the air of purpose, -which sat on his brow indicated that he thought the crisis no common -one. Not a moment was lost, even in explanations. Waving me to the door -again, and exchanging a few sentences with his nephew, he gave the word -to start, and we issued from the house in a body. Doubtless the fact -that those who sought to ruin me were his political enemies had some -weight with him; for I saw his face harden as his eyes met those of M. -de Villequier, who passed slowly before the door as we came out. The -Gascon, however, was not the man to interfere with so large a party, and -dropped back; while M. de Rambouillet, after exchanging a cold salute -with him, led the way towards the Castle at a round pace. His nephew and -I walked one on either side of him, and the others, to the number of ten -or eleven, pressed on behind in a compact body, our cortege presenting -so determined a front that the crowd, which had remained hanging about -the door, fled every way. Even some peaceable folk who found themselves -in our road took the precaution of slipping into doorways, or stood -aside to give us the full width of the street. - -I remarked--and I think it increased my anxiety--that our leader -was dressed with more than usual care and richness, but, unlike his -attendants, wore no arms. He took occasion, as we hurried along, to give -me a word of advice. ‘M. de Marsac,’ he said, looking at me suddenly, -‘my nephew has given me to understand that you place yourself entirely -in my hands.’ - -I replied that I asked for no better fortune, and, whatever the event, -thanked him from the bottom of my heart. - -‘Be pleased then to keep silence until I bid you speak,’ he replied -sharply, for he was one of those whom a sudden stress sours and -exacerbates. ‘And, above all, no violence without my orders. We are -about to fight a battle, and a critical one, but it must be won with our -heads. If we can we will keep you out of the Provost-Marshal’s hands.’ - -And if not? I remembered the threats Father Antoine had used, and in -a moment I lost sight of the street with all its light and life and -movement. I felt no longer the wholesome stinging of the wind. I tasted -instead a fetid air, and saw round me a narrow cell and masked figures, -and in particular a swarthy man is a leather apron leaning over a -brazier, from which came lurid flames. And I was bound. I experienced -that utter helplessness which is the last test of courage. The man -came forward, and then--then, thank God! the vision passed away. -An exclamation to which M. d’Agen gave vent, brought me back to the -present, and to the blessed knowledge that the fight was not yet over. - -We were within a score of paces, I found, of the Castle gates; but so -were also a second party, who had just debouched from a side-street, and -now hurried on, pace for pace, with us, with the evident intention of -forestalling us, The race ended in both companies reaching the entrance -at the same time, with the consequence of some jostling taking place -amongst the servants. This must have led to blows but for the strenuous -commands which M. de Rambouillet had laid upon his followers. I found -myself in a moment confronted by a row of scowling faces, while a dozen -threatening hands were stretched out towards me, and as many voices, -among which I recognised Fresnoy’s, cried out tumultuously, ‘That is he! -That is the one!’ - -An elderly man in a quaint dress stepped forward, a paper in his hand, -and, backed as he was by half a dozen halberdiers, would in a moment -have laid hands on me if M. de Rambouillet had not intervened with a -negligent air of authority, which sat on him the more gracefully as he -held nothing but a riding-switch in his hands. ‘Tut, tut! What is this?’ -he said lightly. ‘I am not wont to have my people interfered with, M. -Provost, without my leave. You know me, I suppose?’ - -‘Perfectly, M. le Marquis,’ the man answered with dogged respect; ‘but -this is by the king’s special command.’ - -‘Very good,’ my patron answered, quietly eyeing the faces behind the -Provost-Marshal, as if he were making a note of them; which caused some -of the gentlemen manifest uneasiness. ‘That is soon seen, for we are -even now about to seek speech with his Majesty.’ - -‘Not this gentleman,’ the Provost-Marshal answered firmly, raising his -hand again. ‘I cannot let him pass.’ - -‘Yes, this gentleman too, by your leave,’ the Marquis retorted, lightly -putting the hand aside with his cane. - -‘Sir,’ said the other, retreating a step, and speaking with some heat, -‘this is no jest with all respect. I hold the king’s own order, and it -may not be resisted.’ - -The nobleman tapped his silver comfit-box and smiled. ‘I shall be the -last to resist it--if you have it,’ he said languidly. - -‘You may read it for yourself,’ the Provost-Marshal answered, his -patience exhausted. - -M. de Rambouillet took the parchment with the ends of his fingers, -glanced at it, and gave it back. ‘As I thought,’ he said, ‘a manifest -forgery.’ - -‘A forgery!’ cried the other, crimson with indignation. ‘And I had -it from the hands of the king’s own secretary!’ At this those behind -murmured, some ‘shame,’ and some one thing and some another--all with -an air so threatening that the Marquis’s gentlemen closed up behind him, -and M. d’Agen laughed rudely. - -But M. de Rambouillet remained unmoved. ‘You may have had it from whom -you please, sir,’ he said. ‘It is a forgery, and I shall resist its -execution. If you choose to await me here, I will give you my word to -render this gentleman to you within an hour, should the order hold good. -If you will not wait, I shall command my servants to clear the way, and -if ill happen, then the responsibility will lie with you.’ - -He spoke in so resolute a manner it was not difficult to see that -something more was at stake than the arrest of a single man. This was -so; the real issue was whether the king, with whose instability it was -difficult to cope, should fall back into the hands of his old advisers -or not. My arrest was a move in the game intended as a counterblast to -the victory which M. de Rambouillet had gained when he persuaded the -king to move to Tours; a city in the neighbourhood of the Huguenots, and -a place of arms whence union with them would be easy. - -The Provost-Marshal could, no doubt, make a shrewd guess at these -things. He knew that the order he had would be held valid or not -according as one party or the other gained the mastery; and, seeing M. -de Rambouillet’s resolute demeanour, he gave way. Rudely interrupted -more than once by his attendants, among whom were some of Bruhl’s men, -he muttered an ungracious assent to our proposal; on which, and without -a moment’s delay, the Marquis took me by the arm and hurried me across -the courtyard. - -And so far, well. My heart began to rise. But, for the Marquis, as we -mounted the staircase the anxiety he had dissembled while we faced the -Provost-Marshal, broke out in angry mutterings; from which I gathered -that the crisis was yet to come. I was not surprised, therefore, when an -usher rose on our appearance in the antechamber, and, quickly crossing -the floor, interposed between us and the door of the chamber, informing -the Marquis with a low obeisance that his Majesty was engaged. - -‘He will see me,’ M. de Rambouillet cried, looking haughtily round on -the sneering pages and lounging courtiers, who grew civil under his eye. - -‘I have particular orders, sir, to admit so one,’ the man answered. - -‘Tut, tut, they do not apply to me,’ my companion retorted, nothing -daunted. ‘I know the business on which the king is engaged, and I -am here to assist him.’ And raising his hand he thrust the startled -official aside, and hardily pushed the doors of the chamber open. - -The king, surrounded by half a dozen persons, was in the act of putting -on his riding-boots. On hearing us, he turned his head with a startled -air, and dropped in his confusion one of the ivory cylinders he was -using; while his aspect, and that of the persons who stood round him, -reminded me irresistibly of a party of schoolboys detected in a fault. - -He recovered himself, it is true, almost immediately; and turning his -back to us? continued to talk to the persons round him on such trifling -subjects as commonly engaged him. He carried on this conversation in -a very free way, studiously ignoring our presence; but it was plain he -remained aware of it, and even that he was uneasy under the cold and -severe gaze which the Marquis, who seemed in nowise affrighted by his -reception, bent upon him. - -I, for my part, had no longer any confidence. Nay, I came near to -regretting that I had persevered in an attempt so useless. The warrant -which awaited me at the gates seemed less formidable than his Majesty’s -growing displeasure; which I saw I was incurring by remaining where -I was. It needed not the insolent glance of Marshal Retz, who lounged -smiling by the king’s hand, or the laughter of a couple of pages who -stood at the head of the chamber, to deprive me of my last hope; while -some things which might have cheered me--the uneasiness of some -about the king, and the disquietude which underlay Marshal Retz’s -manner--escaped my notice altogether. - -What I did see clearly was that the king’s embarrassment was fast -changing to anger. The paint which reddened his cheeks prevented tiny -alteration in his colour being visible, but his frown and the nervous -manner in which he kept taking off and putting on his jewelled cap -betrayed him. At length, signing to one of his companions to follow, -he moved a little aside to a window, whence, after a few moments, the -gentleman came to us. - -‘M. de Rambouillet,’ he said, speaking coldly and formally, ‘his Majesty -is displeased by this gentleman’s presence, and requires him to withdraw -forthwith.’ - -‘His Majesty’s word is law,’ my patron answered, bowing low, and -speaking in a clear voice audible throughout; the chamber, ‘but the -matter which brings this gentleman here is of the utmost importance, and -touches his Majesty’s person.’ - -M. de Retz laughed jeeringly. The other courtiers looked grave. The -king shrugged his shoulders with a peevish gesture, but after a moment’s -hesitation, during which he looked first at Retz and then at M. de -Rambouillet, he signed to the Marquis to approach. - -‘Why have you brought him here?’ he muttered sharply, looking askance at -me. ‘He should have been bestowed according to my orders.’ - -‘He has information for your Majesty’s private ear,’ Rambouillet -answered. And he looked so meaningly at the king that Henry, I think, -remembered on a sudden his compact with Rosny, and my part in it; for -he started with the air of a man suddenly awakened. ‘To prevent that -information reaching you, sire,’ my patron continued, ‘his enemies have -practised on your Majesty’s well-known sense of justice.’ - -‘Oh, but stay, stay!’ the king cried, hitching forward the scanty cloak -he wore, which barely came down to his waist. ‘The man has killed a -priest! He has killed a priest, man!’ - -He repeated with confidence, as if he had now got hold of the right -argument. - -That is not so, sire, craving your Majesty’s pardon, M. de Rambouillet; -replied with the utmost coolness. - -‘Tut! Tut! The evidence is clear,’ the king said peevishly. - -‘As to that, sire,’ my companion rejoined, ‘if it is of the murder of -Father Antoine he is accused, I say boldly that there is none.’ - -‘Then there you are mistaken!’ the king answered. ‘I heard it with my -own ears this morning.’ - -‘Will you deign, sire, to tell me its nature?’ M. de Rambouillet -persisted. - -But on that Marshal Retz thought it necessary to intervene. ‘Need we -turn his Majesty’s chamber into a court of justice?’ he said smoothly. -Hitherto he had not spoken; trusting, perhaps, to the impression he had -already made upon the king. - -M. de Rambouillet took no notice of him. - -‘But Bruhl,’ said the king, ‘you see, Bruhl says--’ - -‘Bruhl!’ my companion replied, with so much contempt that Henry started. -‘Surely your Majesty has not taken his word against this gentleman, of -all people?’ - -Thus reminded, a second time, of the interests entrusted to me, and -of the advantage which Bruhl would gain by my disappearance, the king -looked first confused, and then angry. He vented his passion in one or -two profane oaths, with the childish addition that we were all a set of -traitors, and that he had no one whom he could trust. But my companion -had touched the right chord at last; for when the king grew more -composed, he waved aside Marshal Retz’s protestations, and sullenly bade -Rambouillet say what he had to say. - -‘The monk was killed, sire, about sunset,’ he answered. ‘Now my nephew, -M. d’Agen, is without, and will tell your Majesty that he was with this -gentleman at his lodgings from about an hour before sunset last evening -until a full hour after. Consequently, M. de Marsac can hardly be the -assassin, and M. le Marechal must look elsewhere if he wants vengeance.’ - -‘Justice, sir, not vengeance.’ Marshal Retz said with a dark glance. His -keen Italian face hid his trouble well, but a little pulse of passion -beating in his olive cheek betrayed the secret to those who knew him. -He had a harder part to play than his opponent; for while Rambouillet’s -hands were clean, Retz knew himself a traitor, and liable at any moment -to discovery and punishment. - -‘Let M. d’Agen be called,’ Henry said curtly. - -‘And if your Majesty pleases,’ Retz added, ‘M. de Bruhl also, If you -really intend, sire, that is, to reopen a matter which I thought had -been settled.’ - -The king nodded obstinately, his face furrowed with ill-temper. He kept -his shifty eyes, which seldom met those of the person he addressed, on -the floor; and this accentuated the awkward stooping carriage which was -natural to him. There were seven or eight dogs of exceeding smallness in -the room, and while we waited for the persons who had been summoned, he -kicked, now one and now another of the baskets which held them, as if he -found in this some vent for his ill-humour. - -The witnesses presently appeared, followed by several persons, among -whom were the Dukes of Nevers and Mercoeur, who came to ride out with -the king, and M. de Crillon; so that the chamber grew passably full. -The two dukes nodded formally to the Marquis, as they passed him, but -entered into a muttered conversation with Retz, who appeared to be -urging them to press his cause. They seemed to decline, however, -shrugging their short cloaks as if the matter were too insignificant. -Crillon on his part cried audibly, and with an oath, to know what the -matter was; and being informed, asked whether all this fuss was being -made about a damned shaveling monk. - -Henry, whose tenderness for the cowl was well known, darted an angry -glance at him, but contented himself with saying sharply to M. d’Agen, -‘Now, sir, what do you know about the matter?’ - -‘One moment, sire,’ M. Rambouillet cried, interposing before Francois -could answer. ‘Craving your Majesty’s pardon, you have heard M. de -Bruhl’s account. May I, as a favour to myself, beg you, sire, to permit -us also to hear it?’ - -‘What?’ Marshal Retz exclaimed angrily, ‘are we to be the judges, then, -or his Majesty? Arnidieu!’ he continued hotly, ‘what, in the fiend’s -name, have we to do with it? I protest ‘fore Heaven--’ - -‘Ay, sir, and what do you protest?’ my champion retorted, turning to him -with stern disdain. - -‘Silence!’ cried the king who had listened almost bewildered. ‘Silence! -By God, gentlemen,’ he continued, his eye travelling round the circle -with a sparkle of royal anger in it not unworthy of his crown, ‘you -forget yourselves. I will have none of this quarrelling in my presence -or out of it. I lost Quelus and Maugiron that way, and loss enough, and -I will have none of it, I say! M. de Bruhl,’ he added, standing erect, -and looking for the moment, with all his paint and frippery, a king, ‘M. -de Bruhl, repeat your story.’ - -The feelings with which I listened to this controversy may be imagined. -Devoured in turn by hope and fear as now one side and now the other -seemed likely to prevail, I confronted at one moment the gloom of the -dungeon, and at another tasted the air of freedom, which had never -seemed so sweet before. Strong as these feelings were, however, they -gave way to curiosity at this point; when I heard Bruhl called, and saw -him come forward at the king’s command. Knowing this man to be himself -guilty, I marvelled with what face he would present himself before all -those eyes, and from what depths of impudence he could draw supplies in -such an emergency. - -I need not have troubled myself, however, for he was fully equal to the -occasion. His high colour and piercing black eyes met the gaze of friend -and foe alike without flinching. Dressed well and elegantly, he wore -his raven hair curled in the mode, and looked alike gay, handsome, and -imperturbable. If there was a suspicion of coarseness about his bulkier -figure, as he stood beside M. d’Agen, who was the courtier perfect -and point devise, it went to the scale of sincerity, seeing that men -naturally associate truth with strength. - -‘I know no more than this, sire,’ he said easily; ‘that, happening to -cross the Parvis at the moment of the murder, I heard Father Antoine -scream. He uttered four words only, in the tone of a man in mortal -peril. They were’--and here the speaker looked for an instant at -me--‘Ha! Marsac! A moi!’ - -‘Indeed!’ M. de Rambouillet said, after looking to the king for -permission. ‘And that was all? You saw nothing?’ - -Bruhl shook his head. ‘It was too dark,’ he said. - -‘And heard no more?’ - -‘No.’ - -‘Do I understand, then,’ the Marquis continued slowly, ‘that M. de -Marsac is arrested because the priest--God rest his soul!--cried to him -for help?’ - -‘For help?’ M. de Retz exclaimed fiercely. - -‘For help?’ said the king, surprised. And at that the most; ludicrous -change fell upon the faces of all. The king looked puzzled, the Duke -of Nevers smiled, the Duke of Mercoeur laughed aloud. Crillon cried -boisterously, ‘Good hit!’ and the majority, who wished no better than to -divine the winning party, grinned broadly, whether they would or no. - -To Marshal Retz, however, and Bruhl, that which to everyone else seemed -an amusing retort had a totally different aspect; while the former -turned yellow with chagrin and came near to choking, the latter looked -as chapfallen and startled as if his guilt; had been that moment brought -home to him. Assured by the tone of the monk’s voice--which must, -indeed, have thundered in his ears--that my name was uttered in -denunciation by one who thought me his assailant, he had chosen to tell -the truth without reflecting that words, so plain to him, might; bear a -different construction when repeated. - -‘Certainly the words seem ambiguous,’ Henry muttered. - -‘But it was Marsac killed him,’ Retz cried in a rage. - -‘It is for some evidence of that we are waiting,’ my champion answered -suavely. - -The Marshal looked helplessly at Nevers and Mercoeur, who commonly took -part with him; but apparently those noblemen had not been primed -for this occasion. They merely shook their heads and smiled. In the -momentary silence which followed, while all looked curiously at Bruhl, -who could not conceal his mortification, M. d’Agen stepped forward. - -‘If your Majesty will permit me,’ he said, a malicious simper crossing -his handsome face--I had often remarked his extreme dislike for Bruhl -without understanding it--‘I think I can furnish some evidence more -to the point than that; to which M. de Bruhl has with so much fairness -restricted himself.’ He then went on to state that he had had the honour -of being in my company at the time of the murder; and he added, besides, -so many details as to exculpate me to the satisfaction of any candid -person. - -The king nodded. ‘That settles the matter,’ he said, with a sigh of -relief. ‘You think so, Mercoeur, do you not? Precisely. Villequier, see -that the order respecting M. de Marsac is cancelled.’ - -M. de Retz could not control his wrath on hearing this direction given. -‘At this rate,’ he cried recklessly, ‘we shall have few priests left -here! We have got a bad name at Blois, as it is!’ - -For a moment all in the circle held their breath, while the king’s eyes -flashed fire at this daring allusion to the murder of the Duke de Guise, -and his brother the Cardinal. But it was Henry’s misfortune to be ever -indulgent in the wrong place, and severe when severity was either unjust -or impolitic. He recovered himself with an effort, and revenged himself -only by omitting to invite the Marshal, who was now trembling in his -shoes, to join his riding-party. - -The circle broke up amid some excitement. I stood on one side with M. -d’Agen, while the king and his immediate following passed out, and, -greatly embarrassed as I was by the civil congratulating of many who -would have seen me hang with equal goodwill, I was sharp enough to see -that something was brewing between Bruhl and Marshal Retz, who stood -back conversing in low tones. I was not surprised, therefore, when -the former made his way towards me through the press which filled the -antechamber, and with a lowering brow requested a word with me. - -‘Certainly,’ I said, watching him narrowly, for I knew him to be both -treacherous and a bully. ‘Speak on, sir.’ - -‘You have balked me once and again,’ he rejoined, in a voice which shook -a little, as did the fingers with which he stroked his waxed moustache. -‘There is no need of words between us. I, with one sword besides, will -to-morrow at noon keep the bridge at Chaverny, a league from here. It -is an open country. Possibly your pleasure may lead you to ride that way -with a friend?’ - -‘You may depend upon me, sir,’ I answered, bowing low, and feeling -thankful that the matter was at length to be brought to a fair and open -arbitration. ‘I will be there--and in person. For my deputy last night,’ -I added, searching his face with a steadfast eye, ‘seems to have been -somewhat unlucky.’ - - - -CHAPTER XXI. TWO WOMEN. - -Out of compliment, and to show my gratitude, I attended M. de -Rambouillet home to his lodging, and found him as much pleased with -himself, and consequently with me, as I was with him. For the time, -indeed, I came near to loving him; and, certainly, he was a man of high -and patriotic feeling, and of skill and conduct to match. But he lacked -that touch of nature and that power of sympathising with others which -gave to such men as M. de Rosny and the king, my master, their peculiar -charm; though after what I have related of him in the last chapter it -does not lie in my mouth to speak ill of him. And, indeed, he was a good -man. - -When I at last reached my lodging, I found a surprise awaiting me in the -shape of a note which had just arrived no one knew how. If the manner -of its delivery was mysterious, however, its contents were brief and -sufficiently explicit; for it; ran thus: ‘SIR, BY MEETING ME THREE HOURS -AFTER NOON IN THE SQUARE BEFORE THE HOUSE OF THE LITTLE SISTERS YOU -WILL DO A SERVICE AT ONCE TO YOURSELF AND TO THE UNDERSIGNED, MARIE DE -BRUHL.’ - -That was all, written in a feminine character, yet it was enough to -perplex me. Simon, who had manifested the liveliest joy at my escape, -would have had me treat it as I had treated the invitation to the Parvis -of the Cathedral; ignore it altogether I mean. But I was of a different -mind, and this for three reasons, among others: that the request was -straightforward, the time early, and the place sufficiently public to be -an unlikely theatre for violence, though well fitted for an interview -to which the world at large was not invited. Then, too, the square lay -little more than a bowshot from my lodging, though on the farther side -of the Rue St. Denys. - -Besides, I could conceive many grounds which Madame de Bruhl might have -for seeing me; of which some touched me nearly. I disregarded Simon’s -warnings, therefore, and repaired at the time appointed to the place--a -clean, paved square a little off the Rue St. Denys, and entered from -the latter by a narrow passage. It was a spot pleasantly convenient -for meditation, but overlooked on one side by the House of the Little -Sisters; in which, as I guessed afterwards, madame must have awaited me, -for the square when I entered it was empty, yet in a moment, though no -one came in from the street, she stood beside me. She wore a mask and -long cloak. The beautiful hair and perfect complexion, which had filled -me with so much admiration at our first meeting in her house, were -hidden, but I saw enough of her figure and carriage to be sure that it -was Madame de Bruhl and no other. - -She began by addressing me in a tone of bitterness, for which I was not -altogether unprepared. - -‘Well, sir,’ she exclaimed, her voice trembling with anger, ‘you are -satisfied, I hope, with your work?’ - -I expected this and had my answer ready. ‘I am not aware, Madame,’ I -said, ‘that I have cause to reproach myself. But, however that may be, I -trust you have summoned me for some better purpose than to chide me for -another’s fault; though it was my voice which brought it to light.’ - -‘Why did you shame me publicly?’ she retorted, thrusting her -handkerchief to her lips and withdrawing it again with a passionate -gesture. - -‘Madame,’ I answered patiently--I was full of pity for her, ‘consider -for a moment the wrong your husband did me and how small and inadequate -was the thing I did to him in return.’ - -‘To him!’ she ejaculated so fiercely that I started. ‘It was to me--to -me you did it! What had I done that you should expose me to the ridicule -of those who know no pity, and the anger of one as merciless? What had I -done, sir?’ - -I shook my head sorrowfully. ‘So far, madame,’ I answered, ‘I allow I -owe you reparation, and I will make it should it ever be in my power. -Nay, I will say more,’ I continued, for the tone in which she spoke had -wrung my heart. ‘In one point I strained the case against your husband. -To the best of my belief he abducted the lady who was in my charge, -not for the love of her, but for political reasons, and as the agent of -another.’ - -She gasped. ‘What?’ she cried. ‘Say that again!’ - -As I complied she tore off her mask and gazed into my face with -straining eyes and parted lips. I saw then how much she was changed, -even in these few days--how pale and worn were her cheeks, how dark -the circles round her eyes. ‘Will you swear to it?’ she said at last, -speaking with uncontrollable eagerness, while she laid a hand which -shook with excitement on my arm. Will you swear to it, sir?’ - -‘It is true,’ I answered steadfastly. I might have added that after the -event her husband had so treated mademoiselle as to lead her to fear the -worst. But I refrained, feeling that it was no part of my duty to come -between husband and wife. - -She clasped her hands, and for a moment looked passionately upwards, as -though she were giving thanks to Heaven; while the flesh of health and -loveliness which I had so much admired returned, and illumined her -face in a wonderful manner. She seemed, in truth and for the moment, -transformed. Her blue eyes filled with tears, her lips moved; nor have -I ever seen anything bear so near a resemblance to those pictures of the -Virgin Mary which Romans worship as madame did then. - -The change, however, was as evanescent as it was admirable. In an -instant she seemed to collapse. She struck her hands to her face and -moaned, and I saw tears, which she vainly strove to restrain, dropping -through her fingers. ‘Too late!’ she murmured, in a tone of anguish -which wrung my heart. ‘Alas, you robbed me of one man, you give me back -another. I know him now for what he is. If he did not love her then, he -does now. It is too late!’ - -She seemed so much overcome that I assisted her to reach a bench which -stood against the wall a few paces away; nor, I confess, was it without -difficulty and much self-reproach that I limited myself to those prudent -offices only which her state and my duty required. To console her on the -subject of her husband was impossible; to ignore him, and so to console -her, a task which neither my discretion nor my sense of honour, though -sorely tried, permitted me to undertake. - -She presently recovered and, putting on her mask again, said hurriedly -that she had still a word to say to me. ‘You have treated me honestly,’ -she continued, ‘and, though I have no cause to do anything but hate you, -I say in return, look to yourself! You escaped last night--I know all, -for it was my velvet knot--which I had made thinking to send it to you -to procure this meeting--that he used as a lure. But he is not yet at -the end of his resources. Look to yourself, therefore.’ - -I thought of the appointment I had made with him for the morrow, but I -confined myself to thanking her, merely saying, as I bowed over the hand -she resigned to me in token of farewell, ‘Madame, I am grateful. I am -obliged to you both for your warning and your forgiveness.’ - -‘Bending her head coldly she drew away her hand. At that moment, as I -lifted my eyes, I saw something which for an instant rooted me to the -spot with astonishment. In the entrance of the passage which led to the -Rue St. Denys two people were standing, watching us. The one was Simon -Fleix, and the other, a masked woman, a trifle below the middle height, -and clad in a riding-coat, was Mademoiselle de la Vire! - -I knew her in a moment. But the relief I experienced on seeing her safe -and in Blois was not unmixed with annoyance that Simon Fleix should have -been so imprudent as to parade her unnecessarily in the street. I felt -something of confusion also on my own account; for I could not tell how -long she and her escort had been watching me. And these two feelings -were augmented when, after turning to pay a final salute to Madame -de Bruhl, I looked again towards the passage and discovered that -mademoiselle and her squire were gone. - -Impatient as I was, I would not seem to leave madame rudely or without -feeling, after the consideration she had shown me in her own sorrow; and -accordingly I waited uncovered until she disappeared within the ‘Little -Sisters.’ Then I started eagerly towards my lodging, thinking I might -yet overtake mademoiselle before she entered. I was destined to meet, -however, with another though very pertinent hindrance. As I passed from -the Rue St. Denys into the quiet of my street I heard a voice calling my -name, and, looking back, saw M. de Rambouillet’s equerry, a man deep in -his confidence, running after me. He brought a message from his master, -which he begged me to consider of the first importance. - -‘The Marquis would not trust it to writing, sir,’ he continued, drawing -me aside into a corner where we were conveniently retired, ‘but he made -me learn it by heart. “Tell M. de Marsac,” said he, “that that which he -was left in Blois to do must be done quickly, or not at all. There is -something afoot in the other camp, I am not sure what. But now is the -time to knock in the nail. I know his zeal, and I depend upon him.”’ - -An hour before I should have listened to this message with serious -doubts and misgivings. Now, acquainted with mademoiselle’s arrival, I -returned M. de Rambouillet an answer in the same strain, and parting -civilly from Bertram, who was a man I much esteemed, I hastened on to my -lodgings, exulting in the thought that the hour and the woman were come -at last, and that before the dawn of another day I might hope, all being -well, to accomplish with honour to myself and advantage to others the -commission which M. de Rosny had entrusted to me. - -I must not deny that, mingled with this, was some excitement at the -prospect of seeing mademoiselle again. I strove to conjure up before me -as I mounted the stairs the exact expression of her face as I had last -seen it bending from the window at Rosny; to the end that I might have -some guide for my future conduct, and might be less likely to fall into -the snare of a young girl’s coquetry. But I could come now, as then, to -no satisfactory or safe conclusion, and only felt anew the vexation I -had experienced on losing the velvet knot, which she had given me on -that occasion. - -I knocked at the door of the rooms which I had reserved for her, and -which were on the floor below my own; but I got no answer. Supposing -that Simon had taken her upstairs, I mounted quickly, not doubting I -should find her there. Judge of my surprise and dismay when I found that -room also empty, save for the lackey whom M. de Rambouillet had lent me! - -‘Where are they?’ I asked the man, speaking sharply, and standing with -my hand on the door. - -‘The lady and her woman, sir?’ he answered, coming forward. - -‘Yes, yes!’ I cried impatiently, a sudden fear at my heart. - -She went out immediately after her arrival with Simon Fleix, sir, and -has not yet returned,’ he answered. - -The words were scarcely out of his mouth before I heard several persons -enter the passage below and begin to ascend the stairs. I did not; -doubt that mademoiselle and the lad had come home another way and, been -somehow detained; and I turned with a sigh of relief to receive them. -But when the persons whose steps I had heard appeared, they proved to be -only M. de Rosny’s equerry, stout, burly, and bright-eyed as ever, and -two armed servants. - - - -CHAPTER XXII. ‘LA FEMME DISPOSE.’ - -The moment the equerry’s foot touched the uppermost stair I advanced -upon him. ‘Where is your mistress, man?’ I said. ‘Where is Mademoiselle -de la Vire? Be quick, tell me what you have done with her.’ - -His face fell amazingly. ‘Where is she?’ he answered, faltering between -surprise and alarm at my sudden onslaught. ‘Here, she should be. I left -her here not an hour ago. Mon Dieu! Is she not here now?’ - -His alarm increased mine tenfold. ‘No!’ I retorted, ‘she is not! She is -gone! And you--what business had you, in the fiend’s name, to leave her -here, alone and unprotected? Tell me that!’ - -He leaned against the balustrade, making no attempt to defend himself, -and seemed, in his sudden terror, anything but the bold, alert fellow -who had ascended the stairs two minutes before. ‘I was a fool,’ he -groaned. ‘I saw your man Simon here; and Fanchette, who is as good as a -man, was with her mistress. And I went to stable the horses. I thought -no evil. And now--My God!’ he added, suddenly straightening himself, -while his face grew hard and grim, ‘I am undone! My master will never -forgive me!’ - -‘Did you come straight here?’ I said, considering that, after all, he -was no more in fault than I had been on a former occasion. - -‘We went first to M. de Rosny’s lodging,’ he answered, ‘where we found -your message telling us to come here. We came on without dismounting.’ - -‘Mademoiselle may have gone back, and be there,’ I said. ‘It is -possible. Do you stay here and keep a good look-out, and I will go and -see. Let one of your men come with me.’ - -He uttered a brief assent; being a man as ready to take as to give -orders, and thankful now for any suggestion which held out a hope of -mademoiselle’s safety. Followed by the servant he selected, I ran down -the stairs, and in a moment was hurrying along the Rue St. Denys. The -day was waning. The narrow streets and alleys were already dark, but the -air of excitement which I had noticed in the morning still marked the -townsfolk, of whom a great number were strolling abroad, or standing -in doorways talking to their gossips. Feverishly anxious as I was, I -remarked the gloom which dwelt on all faces; but as I set it down to -the king’s approaching departure, and besides was intent on seeing that -those we sought did not by any chance pass us in the crowd, I thought -little of it. Five minutes’ walking brought us to M. de Rosny’s lodging. -There I knocked at the door; impatiently, I confess, and with little -hope of success. But, to my surprise, barely an instant elapsed before -the door opened, and I saw before me Simon Fleix! - -Discovering who it was, he cowered back, with a terrified face, and -retreated to the wall with his arm raised. - -‘You scoundrel!’ I exclaimed, restraining myself with difficulty. ‘Tell -me this moment where Mademoiselle de la Vire is! Or, by Heaven, I shall -forget what my mother owed to you, and do you a mischief!’ - -For an instant he glared at me viciously, with all his teeth exposed, as -though he meant to refuse--and more. Then he thought better of it, and, -raising his hand, pointed sulkily upwards. - -‘Go before me and knock at the door,’ I said, tapping the hilt of my -dagger with meaning. - -Cowed by my manner, he obeyed, and led the way to the room in which M. -de Rambouillet had surprised us on a former occasion. Here he stopped -at the door and knocked gently; on which a sharp voice inside bade us -enter. I raised the latch and did so, closing the door behind me. - -Mademoiselle, still wearing her riding-coat, sat in a chair before the -hearth, on which a newly kindled fire sputtered and smoked. She had her -back to me, and did not turn on my entrance, but continued to toy in -an absent manner with the strings of the mask which lay in her lap. -Fanchette stood bolt upright behind her, with her elbows squared and -her hands clasped; in such an attitude that I guessed the maid had -been expressing her strong dissatisfaction with this latest whim of her -mistress, and particularly with mademoiselle’s imprudence in wantonly -exposing herself, with so inadequate a guard as Simon, in a place where -she had already suffered so much. I was confirmed in this notion on -seeing the woman’s harsh countenance clear at sight of me; though the -churlish nod, which was all the greeting she bestowed on me, seemed to -betoken anything but favour or good-will. She touched her mistress on -the shoulder, however, and said, ‘M. de Marsac is here.’ - -Mademoiselle turned her head and looked at me languidly, without -stirring in her chair or removing the foot she, was warming. ‘Good -evening,’ she said. - -The greeting seemed so brief and so commonplace, ignoring, as it did, -both the pains and anxiety to which she had just put me and the great -purpose for which we were here--to say nothing of that ambiguous parting -which she must surely remember as well as I--that the words I had -prepared died on my lips, and I looked at her in honest confusion. All -her small face was pale except her lips. Her brow was dark, her eyes -were hard as well as weary. And not words only failed me as I looked at -her, but anger; having mounted the stairs hot foot to chide, I felt on a -sudden--despite my new cloak and scabbard, my appointment, and the same -I had made at Court--the same consciousness of age; and shabbiness and -poverty which had possessed me in her presence from the beginning. I -muttered, ‘Good evening, mademoiselle,’ and that was all I could say--I -who had frightened the burly Maignan a few minutes before! - -Seeing, I have no doubt, the effect she produced on me, she maintained -for some time an embarrassing silence. At length she said, frigidly, -‘Perhaps M. de Marsac will sit, Fanchette. Place a chair for him. I -am afraid, however, that after his successes at Court he may find our -reception somewhat cold. But we are only from the country,’ she added, -looking at me askance, with a gleam of anger in her eyes. - -I thanked her huskily, saying that I would not sit, as I could not stay. -‘Simon Fleix,’ I continued, finding my voice with difficulty, ‘has, I am -afraid, caused you some trouble by bringing you to this house instead of -telling you that I had made preparation for you at my lodgings.’ - -‘It was not Simon Fleix’s fault,’ she replied curtly. ‘I prefer these -rooms. They are more convenient.’ - -‘They are, perhaps, more convenient,’ I rejoined humbly, ‘But I have -to think of safety, mademoiselle, as you know. At my house I have a -competent guard, and can answer for your being unmolested.’ - -‘You can send your guard here,’ she said with a royal air. - -‘But, mademoiselle--’ - -‘Is it not enough that I have said that I prefer these rooms?’ she -replied sharply, dropping her mask on her lap and looking round at me in -undisguised displeasure. ‘Are you deaf, sir? Let me tell you, I am in -no mood for argument. I am tired with riding. I prefer these rooms, and -that is enough!’ - -Nothing could exceed the determination with which she said these words, -unless it were the malicious pleasure in thwarting my wishes which made -itself seen through the veil of assumed indifference. I felt myself -brought up with a vengeance, and in a manner the most provoking that -could be conceived. But opposition so childish, so utterly wanton, -by exciting my indignation, had presently the effect of banishing the -peculiar bashfulness I felt in her presence, and recalling me to my -duty. - -‘Mademoiselle,’ I said firmly, looking at her with a fixed countenance, -‘pardon me if I speak plainly. This is no time for playing with straws. -The men from whom you escaped once are as determined and more desperate -now. By this time they probably know of your arrival. Do, then, as I -ask, I pray and beseech you. Or this time I may lack the power, though -never the will, to save you.’ - -Wholly ignoring my appeal, she looked into my face--for by this time I -had advanced to her side--with a whimsical smile. ‘You are really much -improved in manner since I last saw you,’ she said. - -‘Mademoiselle!’ I replied, baffled and repelled. ‘What do you mean?’ - -‘What I say,’ she answered, flippantly. ‘But it was to be expected.’ - -‘For shame!’ I cried, provoked almost beyond bearing by her ill-timed -raillery, ‘will you never be serious until you have ruined us and -yourself? I tell you this house is not safe for you! It is not safe for -me! I cannot bring my men to it, for there is not room for them. If you -have any spark of consideration, of gratitude, therefore--’ - -‘Gratitude!’ she exclaimed, swinging her mask slowly to and fro by a -ribbon, while she looked up at me as though my excitement amused her. -‘Gratitude--‘tis a very pretty phrase, and means much; but it is for -those who serve us faithfully, M. de Marsac, and not for others. You -receive so many favours, I am told, and are so successful at Court, that -I should not be justified in monopolising your services.’ - -‘But, mademoiselle--’ I said in a low tone. And there I stopped. I dared -not proceed. - -‘Well, sir,’ she answered, looking up at she after a moment’s silence, -and ceasing on a sudden to play with her toy, ‘what is it?’ - -‘You spoke of favours,’ I continued, with an effort. ‘I never received -but one from a lady. That was at Rosny, and from your hand.’ - -‘From my hand?’ she answered, with an air of cold surprise. - -‘It was so, mademoiselle.’ - -‘You have fallen into some strange mistake, sir,’ she replied, rousing -herself, and looking at me indifferently ‘I never gave you a favour.’ - -I bowed low. ‘If you say you did not, mademoiselle, that is enough,’ I -answered. - -‘Nay, but do not let me do you an injustice, M. de Marsac,’ she -rejoined, speaking more quickly and in an altered tone. ‘If you can show -me the favour I gave you, I shall, of course, be convinced. Seeing -is believing, you know,’ she added, with a light nervous laugh, and a -gesture of something like shyness. - -If I had not sufficiently regretted my carelessness, and loss of the bow -at the time, I did so now. I looked at her in silence, and saw her face, -that had for a moment shown signs of feeling, almost of shame, grow -slowly hard again. - -‘Well, sir?’ she said impatiently. ‘The proof is easy.’ - -‘It was taken from me; I believe, by M. de Rosny,’ I answered lamely, -wondering what ill-luck had led her to put the question and press it to -this point. - -‘It was taken from you!’ she exclaimed, rising and confronting me with -the utmost suddenness, while her eyes flashed, and her little hand -crumpled the mask beyond future usefulness. ‘It was taken from you, -sir!’ she repeated, her voice and her whole frame trembling with -anger and disdain. ‘Then I thank you, I prefer my version. Yours is -impossible. For let me tell you, when Mademoiselle de la Vire does -confer a favour, it will be on a man with the power and the wit--and the -constancy, to keep it, even from M. de Rosny!’ - -Her scorn hurt, though it did not anger me. I felt it to be in a measure -deserved, and raged against myself rather than against her. But aware -through all of the supreme importance of placing her in safety, I -subjected my immediate feelings to the exigencies of the moment and -stooped to an argument which would, I thought, have weight though -private pleading failed. - -‘Putting myself aside, mademoiselle,’ I said, with more formality than I -had yet used, ‘there is one consideration which must weigh with you. The -king--’ - -‘The king!’ she cried, interrupting me violently, her face hot with -passion and her whole person instinct with stubborn self-will. ‘I shall -not see the king!’ - -‘You will not see the king?’ I repeated in amazement. - -‘No, I will not!’ she answered, in a whirl of anger, scorn, and -impetuosity. ‘There! I will not! I have been made a toy and a tool long -enough, M. de Marsac,’ she continued, ‘and I will serve others’ ends no -more. I have made up my mind. Do not talk to me; you will do no good, -sir. I would to Heaven,’ she added bitterly, ‘I had stayed at Chize and -never seen this place!’ - -‘But, mademoiselle,’ I said, ‘you have not thought--’ - -‘Thought!’ she exclaimed, shutting her small white teeth so viciously -I all but recoiled. ‘I have thought enough. I am sick of thought. I am -going to act now. I will be a puppet no longer. You may take me to the -castle by force if you will; but you cannot make me speak.’ - -I looked at her in the utmost dismay, and astonishment; being unable at -first to believe that a woman who had gone through so much, had run so -many risks, and ridden so many miles for a purpose, would, when all -was done and the hour come, decline to carry out her plan. I could -not believe it, I say, at first; and I tried arguments, and entreaties -without stint, thinking that she only asked to be entreated or coaxed. - -But I found prayers and even threats breath wasted upon her; and beyond -these I would not go. I know I have been blamed by some and ridiculed by -others for not pushing the matter farther; but those who have stood face -to face with a woman of spirit--a woman whose very frailty and weakness -fought for her--will better understand the difficulties with which I had -to contend and the manner in which conviction was at last borne in on -my mind. I had never before confronted stubbornness of this kind. As -mademoiselle said again and again, I might force her to Court, but I -could not make her speak. - -When I had tried every means of persuasion, and still found no way of -overcoming her resolution the while Fanchette looked on with a face of -wood, neither aiding me nor taking part against me--I lost, I confess, -in the chagrin of the moment that sense of duty which had hitherto -animated me; and though my relation to mademoiselle should have made me -as careful as ever of her safety, even in her own despite, I left her -at last in anger and went out without saying another word about removing -her--a thing which was still in my power. I believe a very brief -reflection would have recalled me to myself and my duty; but the -opportunity was not given me, for I had scarcely reached the head of the -stairs before Fanchette came after me, and called to me in a whisper to -stop. - -She held a taper in her hand, and this she raised to my face, smiling at -the disorder which she doubtless read there. ‘Do you say that this house -is not safe?’ she asked abruptly, lowering the light as she spoke. - -‘You have tried a house in Blois before?’ I replied with the same -bluntness. ‘You should know as well as I, woman.’ - -‘She must be taken from here, then,’ she answered, nodding her head, -cunningly. ‘I can persuade her. Do you send for your people, and be here -in half an hour. It may take me that time to wheedle her. But I shall do -it.’ - -‘Then listen,’ I said eagerly, seizing the opportunity and her sleeve -and drawing her farther from the door. ‘If you can persuade her to that, -you can persuade to all I wish. Listen, my friend,’ I continued, sinking -my voice still lower. ‘If she will see the king for only ten minutes, -and tell him what she knows, I will give you--’ - -‘What?’ the woman asked suddenly and harshly, drawing at the same time -her sleeve from my hand. - -‘Fifty crowns,’ I replied, naming in my desperation a sum which would -seem a fortune to a person in her position. ‘Fifty crowns down, the -moment the interview is over.’ - -‘And for that you would have me sell her!’ the woman cried with a rude -intensity of passion which struck me like a blow. ‘For shame! For -shame, man! You persuaded her to leave her home and her friends, and the -country where she was known; and now you would have me sell her! Shame -on you! Go!’ she added scornfully. ‘Go this instant and get your men. -The king, say you? The king! I tell you I would not have her finger ache -to save all your kings!’ - -She flounced away with that, and I retired crestfallen; wondering much -at the fidelity which Providence, doubtless for the well-being of the -gentle, possibly for the good of all, has implanted in the humble. -Finding Simon, to whom I had scarce patience to speak, waiting on the -stairs below, I despatched him to Maignan, to bid him come to me with -his men. Meanwhile I watched the house myself until their arrival, -and then, going up, found that Fanchette had been as good as her word. -Mademoiselle, with a sullen mien, and a red spot on either cheek, -consented to descend, and, preceded by a couple of links, which Maignan -had thoughtfully provided, was escorted safely to my lodgings; where I -bestowed her in the rooms below my own, which I had designed for her. - -At the door she turned and bowed to me, her face on fire. - -‘So far, sir, you have got your way,’ she said, breathing quickly. ‘Do -not flatter yourself, however, that you will get it farther--even by -bribing my woman!’ - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAST VALOIS. - -I stood for a few moments on the stairs, wondering what I should do in -an emergency to which the Marquis’s message of the afternoon attached so -pressing a character. Had it not been for that I might have waited until -morning, and felt tolerably certain of finding mademoiselle in a more -reasonable mood then. But as it was I dared not wait. I dared not risk -the delay, and I came quickly to the conclusion that the only course -open to me was to go at once to M. de Rambouillet and tell him frankly -how the matter stood. - -Maignan had posted one of his men at the open doorway leading into the -street, and fixed his own quarters on the landing at the top, whence he -could overlook an intruder without being seen himself. Satisfied with -the arrangement, I left Rambouillet’s man to reinforce him, and took -with me Simon Fleix, of whose conduct in regard to mademoiselle I -entertained the gravest doubts. - -The night, I found on reaching the street, was cold, the sky where it -was visible between the eaves being bright with stars. A sharp wind was -blowing, too, compelling us to wrap our cloaks round us and hurry on -at a pace which agreed well with the excitement of my thoughts. Assured -that had mademoiselle been complaisant I might have seen my mission -accomplished within the hour, it was impossible I should not feel -impatient with one who, to gratify a whim, played with the secrets of a -kingdom as if they were counters, and risked in passing ill-humour the -results of weeks of preparation. And I was impatient, and with her. But -my resentment fell so far short of the occasion that I wondered uneasily -at my own easiness, and felt more annoyed with myself for failing to be -properly annoyed with her, than inclined to lay the blame where it was -due. It was in vain I told myself contemptuously that she was a woman -and that women were not accountable. I felt that the real secret and -motive of my indulgence lay, not in this, but in the suspicion, which -her reference to the favour given me on my departure from Rosny had -converted almost into a certainty, that I was myself the cause of her -sudden ill-humour. - -I might have followed this train of thought farther, and to very -pertinent conclusions. But on reaching M. de Rambouillet’s lodging I -was diverted from it by the abnormally quiet aspect of the house, on the -steps of which half a dozen servants might commonly be seen lounging. -Now the doors were closed, no lights shone through the windows, and the -hall sounded empty and desolate when I knocked. Not a lackey hurried to -receive me even then; but the slipshod tread of the old porter, as he -came with a lantern to open, alone broke the silence. I waited eagerly -wondering what all this could mean; and when the man at last opened, -and, recognising my face, begged my pardon if he had kept me waiting I -asked him impatiently what was the matter. - -‘And where is the Marquis?’ I added, stepping inside to be out of the -wind, and loosening my cloak. - -‘Have you not heard, sir?’ the man asked, holding up his lantern to my -face. He was an old, wizened, lean fellow. ‘It is a break-up, sir, I am -afraid, this time.’ - -‘A break-up?’ I rejoined, peevishly. ‘Speak out, man! What is the -matter? I hate mysteries.’ - -You have not heard the news, sir? That the Duke of Mercoeur and Marshal -Retz, with all their people, left Blois this afternoon?’ - -‘No?’ I answered, somewhat startled. ‘Whither are they gone?’ - -‘To Paris, it is said, sir,--to join the League.’ - -‘But do you mean that they have deserted the king?’ I asked. - -‘For certain, sir!’ he answered. - -‘Not the Duke of Mercoeur?’ I exclaimed. ‘Why, man, he is the king’s -brother-in-law. He owes everything to him.’ - -‘Well, he is gone, sir,’ the old man answered positively. ‘The news was -brought to M. le Marquis about four o’clock, or a little after. He got -his people together, and started after them to try and persuade them to -return. Or, so it is said.’ - -As quickly as I could, I reviewed the situation in my mind. If this -strange news were true, and men like Mercoeur, who had every reason to -stand by the king, as well as men like Retz, who had long been suspected -of disaffection, were abandoning the Court, the danger must be coming -close indeed. The king must feel his throne already tottering, and be -eager to grasp at any means of supporting it. Under such circumstances -it seemed to be my paramount duty to reach him; to gain his ear if -possible, and at all risks; that I and not Bruhl, Navarre not Turenne, -might profit by the first impulse of self-preservation. - -Bidding the porter shut his door and keep close, I hurried to the -Castle, and was presently more than confirmed in my resolution. For -to my surprise I found the Court in much the same state as M. de -Rambouillet’s house. There were double guards indeed at the gates, who -let me pass after scrutinising me narrowly; but the courtyard, which -should have been at this hour ablaze with torches and crowded with -lackeys and grooms, was a dark wilderness, in which half a dozen links -trembled mournfully. Passing through the doors I found things within in -the same state: the hall ill lit and desolate; the staircase manned -only by a few whispering groups, who scanned me as I passed; the -ante-chambers almost empty, or occupied by the grey uniforms of the -Switzer guards. Where I had looked, to see courtiers assembling to meet -their sovereign and assure him of their fidelity, I found only gloomy -faces, watchful eyes, and mouths ominously closed. An air of constraint -and foreboding rested on all. A single footstep sounded hollowly. The -long corridors, which had so lately rung with laughter and the rattle -of dice, seemed already devoted to the silence, and desolation which -awaited them when the Court should depart. Where any spoke I caught the -name of Guise; and I could have fancied that his mighty shadow lay upon -the place and cursed it. - -Entering the chamber, I found matters little better there. His Majesty -was not present, nor were any of the Court ladies; but half a dozen -gentlemen, among whom I recognised Revol, one of the King’s secretaries, -stood near the alcove. They looked up on my entrance, as though -expecting news, and then, seeing who it was, looked away again -impatiently. The Duke of Nevers was walking moodily to and fro before -one of the windows, his hands clasped behind his back: while Biron and -Crillon, reconciled by the common peril, talked loudly on the hearth. I -hesitated a moment, uncertain how to proceed, for I was not yet so old -at Court as to feel at home there. But, at last making up my mind, I -walked boldly up to Crillon and requested his good offices to procure me -an immediate audience of the king. - -‘An audience? Do you mean you want to see him alone?’ he said, raising -his eyebrows and looking whimsically at Biron. - -‘That is my petition, M. de Crillon,’ I answered firmly, though my heart -sank. ‘I am here on M. de Rambouillet’s business, and I need to see his -Majesty forthwith.’ - -‘Well, that is straightforward,’ he replied, clapping me on the -shoulder. ‘And you shall see him. In coming to Crillon you have come -to the right man. Revol,’ he continued, turning to the secretary, ‘this -gentleman bears a message from M. de Rambouillet to the king. Take him -to the closet without delay, my friend, and announce him. I will be -answerable for him.’ - -But the secretary shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. ‘It is quite -impossible, M. de Crillon,’ he said gravely. ‘Quite impossible at -present.’ - -‘Impossible! Chut! I do not know the word,’ Crillon retorted rudely. -‘Come, take him at once, and blame me if ill comes of it. Do you hear?’ - -‘But his Majesty--’ - -‘Well?’ - -‘Is at his devotions,’ the secretary said stiffly. - -‘His Majesty’s devotions be hanged!’ Crillon rejoined--so loudly that -there was a general titter, and M. de Nevers laughed grimly. ‘Do you -hear?’ the Avennais continued, his face growing redder and his voice -higher, ‘or must I pull your ears, my friend? Take this gentleman to the -closet, I say, and if his Majesty be angry, tell him it was by my order. -I tell you he comes from Rambouillet.’ - -I do not know whether it was the threat, or the mention of M. de -Rambouillet’s name, which convinced the secretary. But at any rate, -after a moment’s hesitation, he acquiesced. - -He nodded sullenly to me to follow him, and led the way to a curtain -which masked the door of the closet. I followed him across the chamber, -after muttering a hasty word of acknowledgment to Crillon; and I had as -nearly as possible reached the door when the bustle of some one entering -the chamber caught my ear. I had just time to turn and see that this -was Bruhl, just time to intercept the dark look of chagrin and surprise -which he fixed on me, and then Revol, holding up the curtain, signed to -me to enter. - -I expected to pass at once into the presence of the king, and had my -reverence ready. Instead, I found myself to my surprise in a small -chamber, or rather passage, curtained at both ends, and occupied by a -couple of guardsmen--members, doubtless, of the Band of the Forty-Five -who rose at my entrance and looked at me dubiously. Their guard-room, -dimly illumined by a lamp of red glass, seemed to me, in spite of its -curtains and velvet bench, and the thick tapestry which kept out every -breath of wholesome air, the most sombre I could imagine. And the most -ill-omened. But I had no time to make any long observation; for Revol, -passing me brusquely, raised the curtain at the other end, and, with his -finger on his lip, bade me by signs to enter. - -I did so as silently, the heavy scent of perfumes striking me in the -face as I raised a second curtain, and stopped short a pace beyond -it; partly in reverence--because kings love their subjects best at a -distance--and partly in surprise. For the room, or rather that portion -of it in which I stood, was in darkness; only the farther end being -illumined by a cold pale flood of moonlight, which, passing through -a high, straight window, lay in a silvery sheet on the floor. For an -instant I thought I was alone; then I saw, resting against this window, -with a hand on either mullion, a tall figure, having something strange -about the head. This peculiarity presently resolved itself into the -turban in which I had once before seen his Majesty. The king--for he it -was--was talking to himself. He had not heard me enter, and having his -back to me remained unconscious of my presence. - -I paused in doubt, afraid to advance, anxious to withdraw; yet uncertain -whether I could move again unheard. At this moment while I stood -hesitating, he raised his voice, and his words, reaching my ears, -riveted my attention, so strange and eerie were both they and his tone. -‘They say there is ill-luck in thirteen,’ he muttered. ‘Thirteen -Valois and last!’ He paused to laugh a wicked, mirthless laugh. -‘Ay,--Thirteenth! And it is thirteen years since I entered Paris, a -crowned King! There were Quelus and Maugiron and St. Megrin and I--and -he, I remember. Ah, those days, those nights! I would sell my soul to -live them again; had I not sold it long ago in the living them once! We -were young then, and rich, and I was king; and Quelus was an Apollo! He -died calling on me to save him. And Maugiron died, blaspheming God and -the saints. And St. Megrin, he had thirty-four wounds. And he--he is -dead too, curse him! They are all dead, all dead, and it is all over! My -God! it is all over, it is all over, it is all over!’ - -He repeated the last four words more than a dozen times, rocking himself -to and fro by his hold on the mullions. I trembled as I listened, partly -through fear on my own account should I be discovered, and partly -by reason of the horror of despair and remorse--no, not remorse, -regret--which spoke in his monotonous voice. I guessed that some impulse -had led him to draw the curtain from the window and shade the lamp; -and that then, as he looked down on the moonlit country, the contrast -between it and the vicious, heated atmosphere, heavy with intrigue and -worse, in which he had spent his strength, had forced itself upon his -mind. For he presently went on. - -‘France! There it lies! And what will they do with it? Will they cut it -up into pieces, as it was before old Louis XI? Will Mercoeur--curse him! -be the most Christian Duke of Brittany? And Mayenne, by the grace of -God, Prince of Paris and the Upper Seine? Or will the little Prince of -Bearn beat them, and be Henry IV., King of France and Navarre, Protector -of the Churches? Curse him too! He is thirty-six. He is my age. But he -is young and strong, and has all before him. While I--I--oh, my God, -have mercy on me! Have mercy on me, O God in Heaven!’ - -With the last word he fell on his knees on the step before the window, -and burst into such an agony of unmanly tears and sobbings as I had -never dreamed of or imagined, and least of all in the King of France. -Hardly knowing whether to be more ashamed or terrified, I turned at all -risks, and stealthily lifting the curtain, crept out with infinite care; -and happily with so much good fortune as to escape detection. There was -space enough between the two curtains to admit my body and no more; and -here I stood a short while to collect my thoughts. Then, striking my -scabbard against the wall, as though by accident, and coughing loudly -at the same moment, I twitched the curtain aside with some violence and -re-entered, thinking that by these means I had given him warning enough. - -But I had not reckoned on the darkness in which the room lay, or the -excitable state in which I had left him. He heard me, indeed, but being -able to see only a tall, indistinct figure approaching him, he took -fright, and falling back against the moonlit window, as though he saw -a ghost, thrust out his hand, gasping at the same time two words, which -sounded to me like ‘Ha! Guise!’ - -The next instant, discerning that I fell on my knee where I stood, -and came no nearer, he recovered himself with an effort, which his -breathing made very apparent, he asked in an unsteady voice who it was. - -‘One of your Majesty’s most faithful servants,’ I answered, remaining on -my knee, and affecting to see nothing. - -Keeping his face towards me, he sidled to the lamp and strove to -withdraw the shade. But his fingers trembled so violently that it was -some time before he succeeded, and set free the cheerful beams, which, -suddenly filling the room with radiance, disclosed to my wondering -eyes, instead of darkness and the cold gleam of the moon, a profusion -of riches, of red stuffs and gemmed trifles and gilded arms crowded -together in reckless disorder. A monkey chained in one corner began -to gibber and mow at me. A cloak of strange cut, stretched on a wooden -stand, deceived me for an instant into thinking that there was a third -person present; while the table, heaped with dolls and powder-puff’s, -dog-collars and sweet-meats, a mask, a woman’s slipper, a pair of -pistols, some potions, a scourge, and an immense quantity of like -litter, had as melancholy an appearance in my eyes as the king himself, -whose disorder the light disclosed without mercy. His turban was awry, -and betrayed the premature baldness of his scalp. The paint on his -cheeks was cracked and stained, and had soiled the gloves he wore. He -looked fifty years old; and in his excitement he had tugged his sword to -the front, whence it refused to be thrust back. - -‘Who sent you here?’ he asked, when he had so far recovered his senses -as to recognise me, which he did with great surprise. - -‘I am here, sire,’ I answered evasively, ‘to place myself at your -Majesty’s service.’ - -‘Such loyalty is rare,’ he answered, with a bitter sneer. ‘But stand -up, sir. I suppose I must be thankful for small mercies, and, losing a -Mercoeur, be glad to receive a Marsac.’ - -‘By your leave, sire,’ I rejoined hardily, ‘the exchange is not so -adverse. Your Majesty may make another duke when you will. But honest -men are not so easily come by.’ - -‘So! so!’ he answered, looking at me with a fierce light in his eyes. -‘You remind me in season, I may still make and unmake! I am still King -of France? That is so sirrah, is it not?’ - -‘God forbid that it should be otherwise!’ I answered earnestly. ‘It is -to lay before your Majesty certain means by which you may give fuller -effect to your wishes that I am here. The King of Navarre desires only, -sire--’ - -‘Tut, tut!’ he exclaimed impatiently, and with some displeasure, ‘I know -his will better than you, man. But you see,’ he continued cunningly, -forgetting my inferior position as quickly as he had remembered it, -‘Turenne promises well, too. And Turenne--it is true he may play the -Lorrainer. But if I trust Henry of Navarre, and he prove false to me--’ - -He did not complete the sentence, but strode to and fro a time or two, -his mind, which had a natural inclination towards crooked courses, bent -on some scheme by which he might play off the one party against the -other. Apparently he was not very successful in finding one, however; -or else the ill-luck with which he had supported the League against the -Huguenots recurred to his mind. For he presently stopped, with a sigh, -and came back to the point. - -‘If I knew that Turenne were lying,’ be muttered, ‘then indeed--. But -Rosny promised evidence, and he has sent me none.’ - -‘It is at hand, sire,’ I answered, my heart beginning to beat, ‘Your -Majesty will remember that M. de Rosny honoured me with the task of -introducing it to you.’ - -‘To be sure,’ he replied, awaking as from a dream, and looking and -speaking eagerly. Matters to-day have driven everything out of my head. -Where is your witness, man? Convince me, and we will act promptly. We -will give them Jarnac and Moncontour over again. Is he outside?’ - -‘It is a woman, sire,’ I made answer, dashed somewhat by his sudden and -feverish alacrity. - -‘A woman, eh? You have her here?’ - -‘No, sire,’ I replied, wondering what he would say to my next piece -of information. ‘She is in Blois, she has arrived, but the truth is--I -humbly crave your Majesty’s indulgence--she refuses to come or speak. -I cannot well bring her here by force, and I have sought you, sire, for -the purpose of taking your commands in the matter.’ - -He stared at me in the utmost astonishment. - -‘Is she young?’ he asked after a long pause. - -‘Yes, sire,’ I answered. ‘She is maid of honour to the Princess of -Navarre, and a ward also of the Vicomte de Turenne.’ - -‘Gad! then she is worth hearing, the little rebel!’ he replied. ‘A ward -Of Turenne’s is she? Ho! ho! And now she will not speak? My cousin -of Navarre now would know how to bring her to her senses, but I have -eschewed these vanities. I might send and have her brought, it is true; -but a very little thing would cause a barricade to-night.’ - -‘And besides, sire,’ I ventured to add, ‘she is known to Turenne’s -people here, who have once stolen her away. Were she brought to your -Majesty with any degree of openness, they would learn it, and know that -the game was lost.’ - -‘Which would not suit me,’ he answered, nodding and looking at me -gloomily. ‘They might anticipate our Jarnac; and until we have settled -matters with one or the other our person is not too secure. You must go -and fetch her. She is at your lodging. She must be brought, man.’ - -‘I will do what you command, sire,’ I answered. ‘But I am greatly afraid -that she will not come.’ - -He lost his temper at that. ‘Then why, in the devil’s name, have -you troubled me with the matter?’ he cried savagely. ‘God knows--I -don’t--why Rosny employed such a man and such a woman. He might have -seen from the cut of your cloak, sir, which is full six months behind -the fashion, that you could not manage a woman! Was ever such damnable -folly heard of in this world? But it is Navarre’s loss, not mine. It is -his loss. And I hope to Heaven it may be yours too!’ he added fiercely. - -There was so much in what he said that I bent before the storm, and -accepted with humility blame which was as natural on his part as it was -undeserved on mine. Indeed I could not wonder at his Majesty’s anger; -nor should I have wondered at it in a greater man. I knew that but for -reasons, on which I did not wish to dwell, I should have shared it to -the full, and spoken quite as strongly of the caprice which ruined hopes -and lives for a whim. - -The king continued for some time to say to me all the hard things he -could think of. Wearied at last by my patience, he paused, and cried -angrily. ‘Well, have you nothing; to say for yourself? Can you suggest -nothing?’ - -‘I dare not mention to your Majesty,’ I said humbly, ‘what seems to me -to be the only alternative.’ - -‘You mean that I should go to the wench!’ he answered--for he did not -lack quickness. ‘“SE NON VA EL OTERO A MAHOMA, VAYA MAHOMA AL OTERO,” as -Mendoza says. But the saucy quean, to force me to go to her! Did my wife -guess--but there, I will go. By God I will go!’ he added abruptly and -fiercely. ‘I will live to ruin Retz yet! Where is your lodging?’ - -I told him, wondering much at this flash of the old spirit, which twenty -years before had won him a reputation his later life did nothing to -sustain. - -‘Do you know,’ he asked, speaking with sustained energy and clearness, -‘the door by which M. de Rosny entered to talk with me? Can you find it -in the dark?’ - -‘Yes, sire,’ I answered, my heart beating high. - -‘Then be in waiting there two hours before midnight,’ he replied. ‘Be -well armed, but alone. I shall know how to make the girl speak. I can -trust you, I suppose?’ he added suddenly, stepping nearer to me and -looking fixedly into my eyes. - -‘I will answer for your Majesty’s life with my own,’ I replied, sinking -on one knee. - -‘I believe you, sir,’ he answered gravely, giving me his hand to kiss, -and then turning away. ‘So be it. Now leave me. You have been here too -long already. Not a word to any one as you value your life.’ - -I made fitting answer and was leaving him; but when I had my head -already on the curtain, he called me back. ‘In Heaven’s name get a new -cloak!’ he said peevishly, eyeing me all over with his face puckered up. -‘Get a new cloak, man, the first thing in the morning. It is worse seen -from the side than the front. It would ruin the cleverest courtier of -them all!’ - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. A ROYAL PERIL. - -The elation with which I had heard the king announce his resolution -quickly diminished on cooler reflection. It stood in particular at a -very low ebb as I waited, an hour later, at the little north postern of -the Castle, and, cowering within the shelter of the arch to escape the -wind, debated whether his Majesty’s energy would sustain him to the -point of action, or whether he might not, in one of those fits of -treacherous vacillation which had again and again marred his plans, send -those to keep the appointment who would give a final account of me. -The longer I considered his character the more dubious I grew. The -loneliness of the situation, the darkness, the black front, unbroken by -any glimmer of light, which the Castle presented on this side, and the -unusual and gloomy stillness which lay upon the town, all contributed to -increase my uneasiness. It was with apprehension as well as relief that -I caught at last the sound of footsteps on the stone staircase, and, -standing a little to one side, saw a streak of light appear at the foot -of the door. - -On the latter being partially opened a voice cried my name. I advanced -with caution and showed myself. A brief conversation ensued between -two or three persons who stood within; but in the end, a masked figure, -which I had no difficulty in identifying as the king, stepped briskly -out. - -‘You are armed?’ he said, pausing a second opposite me. - -I put back my cloak and showed him, by the light which streamed from the -doorway, that I carried pistols as well as a sword. - -‘Good!’ he answered briefly; ‘then let us go. Do you walk on my left -hand, my friend. It is a dark night, is it not?’ - -‘Very dark, sire,’ I said. - -He made no answer to this, and we started, proceeding with caution until -we had crossed the narrow bridge, and then with greater freedom and at -a better pace. The slenderness of the attendance at Court that evening, -and the cold wind, which swept even the narrowest streets and drove -roisterers indoors, rendered it unlikely that we should be stopped or -molested by any except professed thieves; and for these I was prepared. -The king showed no inclination to talk; and keeping silence myself out -of respect, I had time to calculate the chances and to consider whether -his Majesty would succeed where I had failed. - -This calculation, which was not inconsistent with the keenest -watchfulness on my part whenever we turned a corner or passed the mouth -of an alley, was brought to an end by our safe arrival at the house. -Briefly apologising to the king for the meanness and darkness of the -staircase, I begged leave to precede him, and rapidly mounted until I -met Maignan. Whispering to him that all was well, I did not wait to hear -his answer, but, bidding him be on the watch, I led the king on with -as much deference as was possible until we stood at the door of -mademoiselle’s apartment, which I have elsewhere stated to consist of -an outer and inner room. The door was opened by Simon Fleix, and him -I promptly sent out. Then, standing aside and uncovering, I begged the -king to enter. - -He did so, still wearing his hat and mask, and I followed and secured -the door. A lamp hanging from the ceiling diffused an imperfect light -through the room, which was smaller but more comfortable in appearance -than that which I rented overhead. I observed that Fanchette, whose -harsh countenance looked more forbidding than usual, occupied a stool -which she had set in a strange fashion against the Inner door; but I -thought no more of this at the moment, my attention passing quickly to -mademoiselle, who sat crouching before the fire, enveloped in a large -outdoor cloak, as if she felt the cold. Her back was towards us, and she -was, or pretended to be, still ignorant of our presence. With a muttered -word I pointed her out to the king, and went towards her with him. - -‘Mademoiselle, I said in a low voice, ‘Mademoiselle de la Vire! I have -the honour--’ - -She would not turn, and I stopped. Clearly she heard, but she betrayed -that she did so only by drawing her cloak more closely round her. Primed -by my respect for the king, I touched her lightly on the shoulder. -‘Mademoiselle!’ I said impatiently, ‘you are not aware of it, but--’ - -She shook herself free from my hand with so rude a gesture that I broke -off, and stood gazing foolishly at her. The king smiled, and nodding -to me to step back a pace, took the task on himself. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he -said with dignity, ‘I am not accustomed--’ - -His voice had a magical effect. Before he could add another word she -sprang up as if she had been struck, and faced us, a cry of alarm on her -lips. Simultaneously we both cried out too, for it was not mademoiselle -at all. The woman who confronted us, her hand on her mask, her eyes -glittering through the slits, was of a taller and fuller figure. We -stared at her. Then a lock of bright golden hair which had escaped from -the hood of her cloak gave us the clue. ‘Madame!’ the king cried. - -‘Madame de Bruhl!’ I echoed, my astonishment greater than his. - -Seeing herself known, she began with trembling fingers to undo the -fastenings of her mask; but the king, who had hitherto displayed a -trustfulness I had not expected in him, had taken alarm at sight of her, -as at a thing unlooked for, and of which I had not warned him. ‘How is -this?’ he said harshly, drawing back a pace from her and regarding me -with anger and distrust. ‘Is this some pretty arrangement of yours, sir? -Am I an intruder at an assignation, or is this a trap with M. de Bruhl -in the background? Answer, sirrah!’ he continued, working himself -rapidly into a passion. ‘Which am I to understand is the case?’ - -‘Neither, sire,’ I answered with as much dignity as I could assume, -utterly surprised and mystified as I was by Madame’s presence. ‘Your -Majesty wrongs Madame de Bruhl as much by the one suspicion as you -injure me by the other. I am equally in the dark with you, sire, and as -little expected to see madame here.’ - -‘I came, sire,’ she said proudly, addressing herself to the king, and -ignoring me, ‘out of no love to M. de Marsac, but as any person bearing -a message to him might come. Nor can you, sire,’ she added with spirit, -‘feel half as much surprise at seeing me here, as I at seeing your -Majesty.’ - -‘I can believe that,’ the king answered drily. ‘I would you had not seen -me.’ - -‘The King of France is seen only when he chooses,’ she replied, -curtseying to the ground. - -‘Good,’ he answered. ‘Let it be so, and you will oblige the King of -France, madame. But enough,’ he continued, turning from her to me; -‘since this is not the lady I came to see, M. de Marsac, where is she?’ - -‘In the inner room, sire, I opine,’ I said, advancing to Fanchette with -more misgiving at heart than my manner evinced. ‘Your mistress is here, -is she not?’ I continued, addressing the woman sharply. - -‘Ay, and will not come out,’ she rejoined, sturdily keeping her place. - -‘Nonsense!’ I said. ‘Tell her--’ - -‘You may tell her what you please,’ she replied, refusing to budge an -inch. ‘She can hear.’ - -‘But, woman!’ I cried impatiently, ‘you do not understand. I MUST speak -with her. I must speak with her at once! On business of the highest -importance.’ - -‘As you please,’ she said rudely, still keeping her seat. ‘I have told -you you can speak.’ - -Perhaps I felt as foolish on this occasion as ever in my life; and -surely never was man placed in a more ridiculous position. After -overcoming numberless obstacles, and escaping as many perils, I had -brought the king here, a feat beyond my highest hopes--only to be -baffled and defeated by a waiting-woman! I stood irresolute; witless and -confused; while the king waited half angry and half amused, and madame -kept her place by the entrance, to which she had retreated. - -I was delivered from my dilemma by the curiosity which is, -providentially perhaps, a part of woman’s character, and which led -mademoiselle to interfere herself. Keenly on the watch inside, she had -heard part of what passed between us, and been rendered inquisitive by -the sound of a strange man’s voice, and by the deference which she -could discern I paid to the visitor. At this moment, she cried out, -accordingly, to know who was there; and Fanchette, seeming to take this -as a command, rose and dragged her stool aside, saying peevishly and -without any increase of respect, ‘There, I told you she could hear.’ - -‘Who is it?’ mademoiselle asked again, in a raised voice. - -I was about to answer when the king signed to me to stand back, and, -advancing himself, knocked gently on the door. ‘Open, I pray you, -mademoiselle,’ he said courteously. - -‘Who is there?’ she cried again, her voice trembling. - -‘It is I, the king,’ he answered softly; but in that tone of majesty -which belongs not to the man, but to the descendant, and seems to be the -outcome of centuries of command. - -She uttered an exclamation and slowly, and with seeming reluctance, -turned the key in the lock. It grated, and the door opened. I caught a -glimpse for an instant of her pale face and bright eyes, and then his -Majesty, removing his hat, passed in and closed the door; and I withdrew -to the farther end of the room, where madame continued to stand by the -entrance. - -I entertained a suspicion, I remember, and not unnaturally, that she -had come to my lodging as her husband’s spy; but her first words when I -joined her dispelled this. ‘Quick!’ she said with an imperious gesture. -‘Hear me and let me go! I have waited long enough for you, and suffered -enough through you. As for that, woman in there, she is mad, and her -servant too! Now, listen to me. You spoke to me honestly to-day, and -I have come to repay you. You have an appointment with my husband -to-morrow at Chaverny. Is it not so?’ she added impatiently. - -I replied that it was so. - -‘You are to go with one friend,’ she went on, tearing the glove she -had taken off, to strips in her excitement, ‘He is to meet you with one -also?’ - -‘Yes,’ I assented reluctantly, ‘at the bridge, madame.’ - -‘Then do not go,’ she rejoined emphatically. ‘Shame on me that I should -betray my husband; but it were worse to send an innocent man to his -death. He will meet you with one sword only, according to his challenge, -but there will be those under the bridge who will make certain work. -There, I have betrayed him now!’ she continued bitterly. ‘It is done. -Let me go!’ - -‘Nay, but, madame,’ I said, feeling more concerned for her, on whom from -the first moment of meeting her I had brought nothing but misfortune, -than surprised by this new treachery on his part, ‘will you not run some -risk in returning to him? Is there nothing I can do for you--no step I -can take for your protection?’ - -‘None!’ she said repellently and almost rudely, ‘except to speed my -going.’ - -‘But you will not pass through the streets alone?’ - -She laughed so bitterly my heart ached for her. ‘The unhappy are always -safe,’ she said. - -Remembering how short a time it was since I had surprised her in the -first happiness of wedded love, I felt for her all the pity it was -natural I should feel. But the responsibility under which his Majesty’s -presence and the charge of mademoiselle laid me forbade me to indulge -in the luxury of evincing my gratitude. Gladly would I have escorted her -back to her home--even if I could not make that home again what it had -been, or restore her husband to the pinnacle from which I had dashed -him--but I dared not do this. I was forced to content myself with less, -and was about to offer to send one of my men with her, when a hurried -knocking at the outer door arrested the words on my lips. - -Signing to her to stand still, I listened. The knocking was repeated, -and grew each moment more urgent. There was a little grille, strongly -wired, in the upper part of the door, and this I was about to open in -order to learn what was amiss, when Simon’s voice reached me from the -farther side imploring me to open the door quickly. Doubting the lad’s -prudence, yet afraid to refuse lest I should lose some warning he had to -give, I paused a second, and then undid the fastenings. The moment the -door gave way he fell in bodily, crying out to me to bar it behind him. -I caught a glimpse through the gap of a glare as of torches, and saw -by this light half a dozen flushed faces in the act of rising above the -edge of the landing. The men who owned them raised a shout of triumph at -sight of me, and, clearing the upper steps at a bound, made a rush for -the door. But in vain. We had just time to close it and drop the two -stout bars. In a moment, in a second, the fierce outcry fell to a dull -roar; and safe for the time, we had leisure to look in one another’s -faces and learn the different aspects of alarm. Madame was white to the -lips, while Simon’s eyes seemed starting from his head, and he shook in -every limb with terror. - -At first, on my asking him what it meant, he could not speak. But that -would not do, and I was in the act of seizing him by the collar to force -an answer from him when the inner door opened, and the king came out, -his face wearing an air of so much cheerfulness as proved both his -satisfaction with mademoiselle’s story and his ignorance of all we were -about. In a word he had not yet taken the least alarm; but seeing Simon -in my hands, and madame leaning against the wall by the door like one -deprived of life, he stood and cried out in surprise to know what it -was. - -‘I fear we are besieged, sire,’ I answered desperately, feeling my -anxieties increased a hundredfold by his appearance--‘but by whom I -cannot say. This lad knows, however,’ I continued, giving Simon, a -vicious shake, ‘and he shall speak. Now, trembler,’ I said to him, ‘tell -your tale?’ - -‘The Provost-Marshal!’ he stammered, terrified afresh by the king’s -presence: for Henry had removed his mask. ‘I was on guard below. I had -come up a few steps to be out of the cold, when I heard them enter. -There are a round score of them.’ - -I cried out a great oath, asking him why he had not gone up and warned -Maignan, who with his men was now cut off from us in the rooms above. -‘You fool!’ I continued, almost beside myself with rage, ‘if you had not -come to this door they would have mounted to my rooms and beset them! -What is this folly about the Provost-Marshal?’ - -‘He is there,’ Simon answered, cowering away from me, his face working. - -I thought he was lying, and had merely fancied this in his fright. But -the assailants at this moment began to hail blows on the door, calling -on us to open, and using such volleys of threats as penetrated even the -thickness of the oak; driving the blood from the women’s cheeks, and -arresting the king’s step in a manner which did not escape me. Among -their cries I could plainly distinguish the words, ‘In the king’s name!’ -which bore out Simon’s statement. - -At the moment I drew comfort from this; for if we had merely to deal -with the law we had that on our side which was above it. And I speedily -made up my mind what to do. ‘I think the lad speaks the truth, sire,’ I -said coolly. ‘This is only your Majesty’s Provost-Marshal. The worst to -be feared, therefore, is that he may learn your presence here before -you would have it known. It should not be a matter of great difficulty, -however, to bind him to silence, and if you will please to mask, I will -open the grille and speak with him.’ - -The king, who had taken his stand in the middle of the room, and seemed -dazed and confused by the suddenness of the alarm and the uproar, -assented with a brief word. Accordingly I was preparing to open the -grille when Madame de Bruhl seized my arm, and forcibly pushed me back -from it. - -‘What would you do?’ she cried, her face full of terror. ‘Do you not -hear? He is there.’ - -‘Who is there?’ I said, startled more by her manner than her words. - -‘Who?’ she answered; ‘who should be there? My husband! I hear his voice, -I tell you! He has tracked me here! He has found me, and will kill me!’ - -‘God forbid!’ I said, doubting if she had really heard his voice. To -make sure, I asked Simon if he had seen him; and my heart sank when I -heard from him too that Bruhl was of the party. For the first time I -became fully sensible of the danger which threatened us. For the first -time, looking round the ill-lit room on the women’s terrified faces, -and the king’s masked figure instinct with ill-repressed nervousness, I -recognised how hopelessly we were enmeshed. Fortune had served Bruhl so -well that, whether he knew it or not, he had us all trapped--alike -the king whom he desired to compromise, and his wife whom he hated, -mademoiselle who had once escaped him, and me who had twice thwarted -him. It was little to be wondered at if my courage sank as I looked from -one to another, and listened to the ominous creaking of the door, as the -stout panels complained under the blows rained upon them. For my first -duty, and that which took the PAS of all others, was to the king--to -save him harmless. How, then, was I to be answerable for mademoiselle, -how protect Madame de Bruhl?--how, in a word, redeem all those pledges -in which my honour was concerned? - -It was the thought of the Provost-Marshal which at this moment rallied -my failing spirits. I remembered that until the mystery of his presence -here in alliance with Bruhl was explained there was no need to despair; -and turning briskly to the king I begged him to favour me by standing -with the women in a corner which was not visible from the door. He -complied mechanically, and in a manner which I did not like; but lacking -time to weigh trifles, I turned to the grille and opened it without more -ado. - -The appearance of my face at the trap was greeted with a savage cry of -recognition, which subsided as quickly into silence. It was followed -by a momentary pushing to and fro among the crowd outside, which in its -turn ended in the Provost-Marshal coming to the front. ‘In the king’s -name!’ he said fussily. - -‘What is it?’ I replied, eyeing rather the flushed, eager faces which -scowled over his shoulders than himself. The light of two links, borne -by some of the party, shone ruddily on the heads of the halberds, and, -flaring up from time to time, filled all the place with wavering, smoky -light. ‘What do you want?’ I continued, ‘rousing my lodging at this time -of night?’ - -‘I hold a warrant for your arrest,’ he replied bluntly. ‘Resistance will -be vain. If you do not surrender I shall send for a ram to break in the -door.’ - -‘Where is your order?’ I said sharply. ‘The one you held this morning -was cancelled by the king himself.’ - -‘Suspended only,’ he answered. ‘Suspended only. It was given out to me -again this evening for instant execution. And I am here in pursuance of -it, and call on you to surrender.’ - -‘Who delivered it to you?’ I retorted. - -‘M. de Villequier,’ he answered readily. ‘And here it is. Now, come, -sir,’ he continued, ‘you are only making matters worse. Open to us.’ - -‘Before I do so,’ I said drily, ‘I should like to know what part in the -pageant my friend M. de Bruhl, whom I see on the stairs yonder, proposes -to play. And there is my old friend Fresnoy,’ I added. ‘And I see one or -two others whom I know, M. Provost. Before I surrender I must know among -other things what M. de Bruhl’s business is here.’ - -‘It is the business of every loyal man to execute the king’s warrant,’ -the Provost answered evasively. ‘It is yours to surrender, and mine to -lodge you in the Castle. ‘But I am loth to have a disturbance. I will -give you until that torch goes out, if you like, to make up your mind. -At the end of that time, if you do not surrender, I shall batter down -the door.’ - -‘You will give the torch fair play?’ I said, noting its condition. - -He assented; and thanking him sternly for this indulgence, I closed the -grille. - - - -CHAPTER XXV. TERMS OF SURRENDER. - -I still had my hand on the trap when a touch on the shoulder caused me -to turn, and in a moment apprised me of the imminence of a new peril; a -peril of such a kind that, summoning all my resolution, I could scarcely -hope to cope with it. Henry was at my elbow. He had taken of his mask, -and a single glance at his countenance warned me that that had happened -of which I had already felt some fear. The glitter of intense excitement -shone in his eyes. His face, darkly-flushed and wet with sweat, betrayed -overmastering emotion, while his teeth, tight clenched in the effort to -restrain the fit of trembling which possessed him, showed between his -lips like those of a corpse. The novelty of the danger which menaced -him, the absence of his gentlemen, and of all the familiar faces and -surroundings without which he never moved, the hour, the mean house, -and his isolation among strangers, had proved too much for nerves long -weakened by his course of living, and for a courage, proved indeed in -the field, but unequal to a sudden stress. Though he still strove to -preserve his dignity, it was alarmingly plain to my eyes that he was on -the point of losing, if he had not already lost, all self-command. - -‘Open!’ he muttered between his teeth, pointing impatiently to the trap -with the hand with which he had already touched me. ‘Open, I say, sir!’ - -I stared at him, startled and confounded. ‘But your Majesty,’ I ventured -to stammer, ‘forgets that I have not yet--’ - -‘Open, I say!’ he repeated passionately. ‘Do you hear me, sir? I desire -that this door be opened.’ His lean hand shook as with the palsy, so -that the gems on it twinkled in the light and rattled as he spoke. - -I looked helplessly from him to the women and back again, seeing in -a flash all the dangers which might follow from the discovery of his -presence there--dangers which I had not before formulated to myself, but -which seemed in a moment to range themselves with the utmost clearness -before my eyes. At the same time I saw what seemed to me to be a way of -escape; and emboldened by the one and the other, I kept my hand on the -trap and strove to parley with him. - -‘Nay, but, sire,’ I said hurriedly, yet still with as much deference -as I could command, ‘I beg you to permit me first to repeat what I have -seen. M. de Bruhl is without, and I counted six men whom I believe to be -his following. They are ruffians ripe for any crime; and I implore your -Majesty rather to submit to a short imprisonment--’ - -I paused struck dumb on that word, confounded by the passion which -lightened in the king’s face. My ill-chosen expression had indeed -applied the spark to his wrath. Predisposed to suspicion by a hundred -treacheries, he forgot the perils outside in the one idea which on the -instant possessed his mind; that I would confine his person, and had -brought him hither for no other purpose. He glared round him with eyes -full of rage and fear, and his trembling lips breathed rather than spoke -the word ‘Imprison?’ - -Unluckily, a trifling occurrence added at this moment to his disorder, -and converted it into frenzy. Someone outside fell heavily against the -door; this, causing madame to utter a low shriek, seemed to shatter the -last remnant of the king’s self-control. Stamping his foot on the floor, -he cried to me with the utmost wildness to open the door--by which I had -hitherto kept my place. - -But, wrongly or rightly, I was still determined to put off opening it; -and I raised my hands with the intention of making a last appeal to -him. He misread the gesture, and retreating a step, with the greatest -suddenness whipped out his sword, and in a moment had the point at my -breast, and his wrist drawn back to thrust. - -It has always been my belief that he would not have dealt the blow, -but that the mere touch of the hilt, awaking the courage which he -undoubtedly possessed, and which did not desert him in his last moments, -would have recalled him to himself. But the opportunity was not -given him, for while the blade yet quivered, and I stood motionless, -controlling myself by an effort, my knee half bent and my eyes on his, -Mademoiselle de la Vire sprang forward at his back, and with a loud -scream clutched his elbow. The king, surprised, and ignorant who held -him, flung up his point wildly, and striking the lamp above his head -with his blade, shattered it in an instant, bringing down the pottery -with a crash and reducing the room to darkness; while the screams of -the women, and the knowledge that we had a madman among us, peopled, the -blackness with a hundred horrors. - -Fearing above all for mademoiselle, I made my way as soon as I could -recover my wits to the embers of the fire, and regardless of the king’s -sword, which I had a vague idea was darting about in the darkness, I -searched for and found a half-burnt stick, which I blew into a blaze. -With this, still keeping my back to the room, I contrived to light a -taper that I had noticed standing by the hearth; and then, and then -only, I turned to see what I had to confront. - -Mademoiselle de la Vire stood in a corner, half-fierce, half-terrified, -and wholly flushed. She had her hand wrapped up in a ‘kerchief already -stained with blood; and from this I gathered that the king in his frenzy -had wounded her slightly. Standing before her mistress, with her hair -bristling, like a wild-cat’s fur, and her arms akimbo, was Fanchette, -her harsh face and square form instinct with fury and defiance. Madame -de Bruhl and Simon cowered against the wall not far from them; and in a -chair, into which he had apparently just thrown himself, sat the king, -huddled up and collapsed, the point of his sword trailing on the ground -beside him, and his nerveless hand scarce retaining force to grip the -pommel. - -In a moment I made up my mind what to do, and going to him in silence, I -laid my pistols, sword, and dagger on a stool by his side. Then I knelt. - -‘The door, sire,’ I said, ‘is there. It is for your Majesty to open it -when you please. Here, too, sire, are my weapons. I am your prisoner, -the Provost-Marshal is outside, and you can at a word deliver me to him. -Only one thing I beg, sire,’ I continued earnestly, ‘that your Majesty -will treat as a delusion the idea that I meditated for a moment -disrespect or violence to your person.’ - -He looked at me dully, his face pale, his eyes fish-like. ‘Sanctus, -man!’ he muttered, ‘why did you raise your hand?’ - -‘Only to implore your Majesty to pause a moment,’ I answered, watching -the intelligence return slowly to his face. ‘If you will deign to listen -I can explain in half a dozen words, sire. M. de Bruhl’s men are six -or seven, the Provost has eight or nine; but the former are the wilder -blades, and if M. de Bruhl find your Majesty in my lodging, and infer -his own defeat, he will be capable of any desperate stroke. Your person -would hardly be safe in his company through the streets. And there is -another consideration,’ I went on, observing with joy that the king -listened, and was gradually regaining his composure. ‘That is, the -secrecy you desired to preserve, sire, until this matter should be -well advanced. M. de Rosny laid the strictest injunctions on me in that -respect, fearing an EMEUTE in Blois should your Majesty’s plans become -known.’ - -‘You speak fairly,’ the king answered with returning energy, though he -avoided looking at the women. ‘Bruhl is likely enough to raise one. But -how am I to get out, sir?’ he continued, querulously. ‘I cannot remain -here. I shall be missed, man! I am not a hedge-captain, neither sought -nor wanted!’ - -‘If your Majesty would trust me?’ I said slowly and with hesitation. - -‘Trust you!’ he retorted peevishly, holding up his hands and gazing -intently at his nails, of the shape and whiteness of which he was -prouder than any woman. ‘Have I not trusted you? If I had not trusted -you, should I have been here? But that you were a Huguenot--God forgive -me for saying it!--I would have seen you in hell before I would have -come here with you!’ - -I confess to having heard this testimony to the Religion with a pride -which made me forget for a moment the immediate circumstances--the peril -in which we stood, the gloomy room darkly lighted by a single candle, -the scared faces in the background, even the king’s huddled figure, in -which dejection and pride struggled for expression. For a moment only; -then I hastened to reply, saying that I doubted not I could still -extricate his Majesty without discovery. - -‘In Heaven’s name do it, then!’ he answered sharply. ‘Do what you like, -man! Only get me back into the castle, and it shall not be a Huguenot -will entice me out again. I am over old for these adventures!’ - -A fresh attack on the door taking place as he said this induced me to -lose no time in explaining my plan, which he was good enough to approve, -after again upbraiding me for bringing him into such a dilemma. Fearing -lest the door should give way prematurely, notwithstanding the bars -I had provided for it, and goaded on by Madame de Bruhl’s face, which -evinced the utmost terror, I took the candle and attended his Majesty -into the inner room; where I placed my pistols beside him, but silently -resumed my sword and dagger. I then returned for the women, and -indicating by signs that they were to enter, held the door open for -them. - -Mademoiselle, whose bandaged hand I could not regard without emotion, -though the king’s presence and the respect I owed him forbade me to -utter so much as a word, advanced readily until she reached the doorway -abreast of me. There, however, looking back, and seeing Madame de Bruhl -following her, she stopped short, and darting a haughty glance at me, -muttered, ‘And--that lady? Are we to be shut up together, sir?’ - -‘Mademoiselle,’ I answered quickly in the low tone she had used herself, -‘have I ever asked anything dishonourable of you?’ - -She seemed by a slight movement of the head to answer in the negative. - -‘Nor do I now,’ I replied with earnestness. ‘I entrust to your care a -lady who has risked great peril for US; and the rest I leave to you.’ - -She looked me very keenly in the face for a second, and then, without -answering, she passed on, Madame and Fanchette following her in that -order. I closed the door and turned to Simon; who by my direction had -blown the embers of the fire into a blaze so as to partially illumine -the room, in which only he and I now remained. The lad seemed afraid to -meet my eye, and owing to the scene at which he had just assisted, or to -the onslaught on the door, which grew each moment more furious, betrayed -greater restlessness than I had lately observed in him. I did not doubt -his fidelity, however, or his devotion to mademoiselle; and the orders I -had to give him were simple enough. - -‘This is what you have got to do,’ I said, my hand already on the bars. -‘The moment I am outside secure this door. After that, open to no one -except Maignan. When he applies, let him in with caution, and bid him, -as he loves M. de Rosny, take his men as soon as the coast is clear, and -guard the King of France to the castle. Charge him to be brave and wary, -for his life will answer for the king’s.’ - -Twice I repeated this; then fearing lest the Provost-Marshal should make -good his word and apply a ram to the door, I opened the trap. A dozen -angry voices hailed my appearance, and this with so much violence and -impatience that it was some time before I could get a hearing; the -knaves threatening me if I would not instantly open, and persisting that -I should do so without more words. Their leader at length quieted them, -but it was plain that his patience too was worn out. ‘Do you surrender -or do you not?’ he said. ‘I am not going to stay out of my bed all night -for you!’ - -‘I warn you,’ I answered, ‘that the order you have there has been -cancelled by the king!’ - -‘That is not my business,’ he rejoined hardily. - -‘No, but it will be when the king sends for you to-morrow morning,’ I -retorted; at which he looked somewhat moved. ‘However, I will surrender -to you on two conditions,’ I continued, keenly observing the coarse -faces of his following. ‘First, that you let me keep my arms until we -reach the gate-house, I giving you my parole to come with you quietly. -That is number one.’ - -‘Well,’ the Provost-Marshal said more civilly, ‘I have no objection to -that.’ - -‘Secondly, that you do not allow your men to break into my lodgings. I -will come out quietly, and so an end. Your order does not direct you to -sack my goods.’ - -‘Tut, tut!’ he replied; ‘I want, you to come out. I do not want to go -in.’ - -‘Then draw your men back to the stairs,’ I said. ‘And if you keep terms -with me, I will uphold you to-morrow, For your orders will certainly -bring you into trouble. M. de Retz, who procured it this morning, is -away, you know. M. de Villequier may be gone to-morrow. But depend upon -it, M. de Rambouillet will be here!’ - -The remark was well timed and to the point. It startled the man as much -as I had hoped it would. Without raising any objection he ordered his -men to fall back and guard the stairs; and I on my side began to undo -the fastenings of the door. - -The matter was not to be so easily concluded, however; for Bruhl’s -rascals, in obedience, no doubt, to a sign given by their leader, who -stood with Fresnoy on the upper flight of stairs, refused to withdraw; -and even hustled the Provost-Marshal’s men when the latter would have -obeyed the order. The officer, already heated by delay, replied by -laying about him with his staff, and in a twinkling there seemed to -be every prospect of a very pretty MELEE, the end of which it was -impossible to foresee. - -Reflecting, however, that if Bruhl’s men routed their opponents our -position might be made worse rather than better, I did not act on my -first impulse, which was to see the matter out where I was. Instead, I -seized the opportunity to let myself out, while Simon fastened the door -behind me. The Provost-Marshal was engaged at the moment in a wordy -dispute with Fresnoy; whose villainous countenance, scarred by the wound -which I had given him at Chize, and flushed with passion, looked its -worst by the light of the single torch which remained. In one respect -the villain had profited by his present patronage, for he was decked out -in a style of tawdry magnificence. But I have always remarked this -about dress, that while a shabby exterior does not entirely obscure a -gentleman, the extreme of fashion is powerless to gild a knave. - -Seeing me on a sudden at the Provost’s elbow, he recoiled with a change -of countenance so ludicrous that that officer was himself startled, and -only held his ground on my saluting him civilly and declaring myself -his prisoner I added a warning that he should look to the torch which -remained; seeing that if it failed we were both like to have our throats -cut in the confusion. - -He took the hint promptly, and calling the link-man to his side prepared -to descend, bidding Fresnoy and his men, who remained clumped at the -head of the stairs, make way for us without ado. They seemed much -inclined, however, to dispute our passage, and replying to his -invectives with rough taunts, displayed so hostile a demeanour that the -Provost, between regard for his own importance and respect for Bruhl, -appeared for a moment at a loss what to do; and seemed rather relieved -than annoyed when I begged leave to say a word to M. de Bruhl. - -‘If you can bring his men to reason,’ he replied testily, ‘speak your -fill to him!’ - -Stepping to the foot of the upper flight, on which Bruhl retained his -position, I saluted him formally. He returned my greeting with a -surly, watchful look only, and drawing his cloak more tightly round him -affected to gaze down at me with disdain; which ill concealed, however, -both the triumph he felt and the hopes of vengeance he entertained. I -was especially anxious to learn whether he had tracked his wife hither, -or was merely here in pursuance of his general schemes against me, and -to this end. I asked him with as much irony as I could compass to what -I was to attribute his presence. ‘I am afraid I cannot stay to offer you -hospitality,’ I continued; ‘but for that you have only your friend M. -Villequier to thank!’ - -‘I am greatly obliged to you,’ he answered with a devilish smile, ‘but -do not let that affect you. When you are gone I propose to help myself, -my friend, to whatever takes my taste.’ - -‘Do you?’ I retorted coolly--not that I was unaffected by the threat and -the villainous hint which underlay the words, but that, fully expecting -them, I was ready with my answer. ‘We will see about that.’ And -therewith I raised my fingers to my lips, and, whistling shrilly, cried -‘Maignan! Maignan!’ in a clear voice. - -I had no need to cry the name a third time, for before the -Provost-Marshal could do more than start at this unexpected action, -the landing above us rang under a heavy tread, and the man I called, -descending the stairs swiftly, appeared on a sudden within arm’s length -of M. de Bruhl; who, turning with an oath, saw him, and involuntarily -recoiled. At all times Maignan’s hardy and confident bearing was of a -kind to impress the strong; but on this occasion there was an added dash -of recklessness in his manner which was not without its effect on the -spectators. As he stood there smiling darkly over Bruhl’s head, while -his hand toyed carelessly with his dagger, and the torch shone ruddily -on his burly figure, he was so clearly an antagonist in a thousand -that, had I sought through Blois, I might not have found his fellow -for strength and SANG-FROID. He let his black eyes rove from one to the -other, but took heed of me only, saluting me with effusion and a touch -of the Gascon which was in place here, if ever. - -I knew how M. de Rosny dealt with him, and followed the pattern as -far as I could. ‘Maignan!’ I said curtly, ‘I have taken a lodging for -to-night elsewhere. Then I am gone you will call out your men and watch -this door. If anyone tries to force an entrance you will do your duty.’ - -‘You may consider it done,’ he replied. - -‘Even if the person be M. de Bruhl here,’ I continued. - -‘Precisely.’ - -‘You will remain on guard,’ I went on, ‘until to-morrow morning if M. -de Bruhl remains here; but whenever he leaves you will take your orders -from the persons inside, and follow them implicitly.’ - -‘Your Excellency’s mind may be easy,’ he answered, handling his dagger. - -Dismissing him with a nod, I turned with a smile to M. de Bruhl, and saw -that between rage at this unexpected check and chagrin at the insult -put upon him, his discomfiture was as complete as I could wish. As for -Fresnoy, if he had seriously intended to dispute our passage, he was -no longer in the mood for the attempt. Yet I did not let his master -off without one more prick. ‘That being settled, M. de Bruhl,’ I said -pleasantly, ‘I may bid you good evening. You will doubtless honour me at -Chaverny tomorrow. But we will first let Maignan look under the bridge!’ - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. MEDITATIONS. - -Either the small respect I had paid M. de Bruhl, or the words I had let -fall respecting the possible disappearance of M. Villequier, had had so -admirable an effect on the Provost-Marshal’s mind that from the -moment of leaving my lodgings he treated me with the utmost civility; -permitting me even to retain my sword, and assigning me a sleeping-place -for the night in his own apartments at the gate-house. - -Late as it was, I could not allow so much politeness to pass -unacknowledged. I begged leave, therefore, to distribute a small -gratuity among his attendants, and requested him to do me the honour of -drinking a bottle of wine with me. This being speedily procured, at such -an expense as is usual in these places, where prisoners pay, according -as they are rich or poor, in purse or person, kept us sitting for an -hour, and finally sent us to our pallets perfectly satisfied with one -another. - -The events of the day, however, and particularly one matter, on which I -have not dwelt at length, proved as effectual to prevent my sleeping as -if I had been placed in the dampest cell below the castle. So much had -been crowded into a time so short that it seemed as if I had had until -now no opportunity of considering whither I was being hurried, or what -fortune awaited me at the end of this turmoil. From the first -appearance of M. d’Agen in the morning, with the startling news that the -Provost-Marshal was seeking me, to my final surrender and encounter with -Bruhl on the stairs, the chain of events had run out so swiftly that I -had scarcely had time at any particular period to consider how I stood, -or the full import of the latest check or victory. Now that I had -leisure I lived the day over again, and, recalling its dangers and -disappointments, felt thankful that all had ended so fairly. - -I had the most perfect confidence in Maignan, and did not doubt that -Bruhl would soon weary, if he had not already wearied, of a profitless -siege. In an hour at most--and it was not yet midnight--the king would -be free to go home; and with that would end, as far as he was concerned, -the mission with which M. de Rosny had honoured me. The task of -communicating his Majesty’s decision to the King of Navarre would -doubtless be entrusted to M. de Rambouillet, or some person of similar -position and influence; and in the same hands would rest the honour and -responsibility of the treaty which, as we all know now, gave after a -brief interval and some bloodshed, and one great providence, a lasting -peace to France. But it must ever be--and I recognised this that -night with a bounding heart, which told of some store of youth yet -unexhausted--a matter of lasting pride to me that I, whose career but -now seemed closed in failure, had proved the means of conferring so -especial a benefit on my country and religion. - -Remembering, however, the King of Navarre’s warning that I must not look -to him for reward, I felt greatly doubtful in what direction the scene -would next open to me; my main dependence being upon M. de Rosny’s -promise that he would make my fortune his own care. Tired of the Court -at Blois, and the atmosphere of intrigue and treachery which pervaded -it, and with which I hoped I had now done, I was still at a loss to -see how I could recross the Loire in face of the Vicomte de Turenne’s -enmity. I might have troubled myself much more with speculating upon -this point had I not found--in close connection with it--other and more -engrossing food for thought in the capricious behaviour of Mademoiselle -de la Vire. - -To that behaviour it seemed to me that I now held the clue. I suspected -with as much surprise as pleasure that only one construction could be -placed upon it--a construction which had strongly occurred to me on -catching sight of her face when she intervened between me and the king. - -Tracing the matter back to the moment of our meeting in the antechamber -at St. Jean d’Angely, I remembered the jest which Mathurine had uttered -at our joint expense. Doubtless it had dwelt in mademoiselle’s mind, -and exciting her animosity against me had prepared her to treat me with -contumely when, contrary to all probability, we met again, and she found -herself placed in a manner in my hands. It had inspired her harsh words -and harsher looks on our journey northwards, and contributed with her -native pride to the low opinion I had formed of her when I contrasted -her with my honoured mother. - -But I began to think it possible that the jest had worked in another -way as well, by keeping me before her mind and impressing upon her the -idea--after my re-appearance at Chize more particularly--that our fates -were in some way linked. Assuming this, it was not hard to understand -her manner at Rosny when, apprised that I was no impostor, and -regretting her former treatment of me, she still recoiled from the -feelings which she began to recognise in her own breast. From that time, -and with this clue, I had no difficulty in tracing her motives, always -supposing that this suspicion, upon which I dwelt with feelings of -wonder and delight, were well founded. - -Middle-aged and grizzled, with the best of my life behind me I had -never dared to think of her in this way before. Poor and comparatively -obscure, I had never raised my eyes to the wide possessions said to be -hers. Even now I felt myself dazzled and bewildered by the prospect so -suddenly unveiled. I could scarcely, without vertigo, recall her as I -had last seen her, with her hand wounded in my defence; nor, without -emotions painful in their intensity, fancy myself restored to the youth -of which I had taken leave, and to the rosy hopes and plannings which -visit most men once only, and then in early years. Hitherto I had deemed -such things the lot of others. - -Daylight found me--and no wonder--still diverting myself with these -charming speculations; which had for me, be it remembered, all the force -of novelty. The sun chanced to rise that morning in a clear sky, and -brilliantly for the time of year; and words fail me when I look -back, and try to describe how delicately this single fact enhanced -my pleasure! I sunned myself in the beams, which penetrated my barred -window; and tasting the early freshness with a keen and insatiable -appetite, I experienced to the full that peculiar aspiration after -goodness which Providence allows such moments to awaken in us in youth; -but rarely when time and the camp have blunted the sensibilities. - -I had not yet arrived at the stage at which difficulties have to be -reckoned up, and the chief drawback to the tumult of joy I felt took -the shape of regret that my mother no longer lived to feel the emotions -proper to the time, and to share in the prosperity which she had so -often and so fondly imagined. Nevertheless, I felt myself drawn closer -to her. I recalled with the most tender feelings, and at greater leisure -than had before been the case, her last days and words, and particularly -the appeal she had uttered on mademoiselle’s behalf. And I vowed, if -it were possible, to pay a visit to her grave before leaving the -neighbourhood, that I might there devote a few moments to the thought of -the affection which had consecrated all women in my eyes. - -I was presently interrupted in these reflections by a circumstance which -proved in the end diverting enough, though far from reassuring at the -first blush. It began in a dismal rattling of chains in the passage -below and on the stairs outside my room; which were paved, like the -rest of the building, with stone. I waited with impatience and some -uneasiness to see what would come of this; and my surprise may be -imagined when, the door being unlocked, gave entrance to a man in whom I -recognised on the instant deaf Mathew--the villain whom I had last seen -with Fresnoy in the house in the Rue Valois. Amazed at seeing him -here, I sprang to my feet in fear of some treachery, and for a moment -apprehended that the Provost-Marshal had basely given me over to -Bruhl’s custody. But a second glance informing me that the man was in -irons--hence the noise I had heard--I sat down again to see what would -happen. - -It then appeared, that he merely brought me my breakfast, and was -a prisoner in less fortunate circumstances than myself; but as he -pretended not to recognise me, and placed the things before me in -obdurate silence, and I had no power to make him hear, I failed to -learn how he came to be in durance. The Provost-Marshal, however, came -presently to visit me, and brought me in token that the good-fellowship -of the evening still existed a pouch of the Queen’s herb; which I -accepted for politeness’ sake rather than from any virtue I found in it. -And from him I learned how the rascal came to be in his charge. - -It appeared that Fresnoy, having no mind to be hampered with a wounded -man, had deposited him on the night of our MELEE at the door of a -hospital attached to a religious house in that part of the town. The -fathers had opened to him, but before taking him in put, according to -their custom, certain questions. Matthew had been primed with the right -answers to these questions, which were commonly a form; but, unhappily -for him, the Superior by chance or mistake began with the wrong one. - -‘You are not a Huguenot, my son?’ he said. - -‘In God’s name, I am!’ Matthew replied with simplicity, believing he was -asked if he was a Catholic. - -‘What?’ the scandalised Prior ejaculated, crossing himself in doubt, -‘are you not a true son of the Church?’ - -‘Never!’ quoth our deaf friend--thinking all went well. - -‘A heretic!’ cried the monk. - -‘Amen to that!’ replied Matthew innocently; never doubting but that he -was asked the third question, which was, commonly, whether he needed -aid. - -Naturally after this there was a very pretty commotion, and -Matthew, vainly protesting that he was deaf, was hurried off to the -Provost-Marshal’s custody. Asked how he communicated with him, the -Provost answered that he could not, but that his little godchild, a girl -only eight years old, had taken a strange fancy to the rogue, and was -never so happy as when talking to him by means of signs, of which she -had invented a great number. I thought this strange at the time, but I -had proof before the morning was out that it was true enough, and -that the two were seldom apart, the little child governing this grim -cut-throat with unquestioned authority. - -After the Provost was gone I heard the man’s fetters clanking again. -This time he entered to remove my cup and plate, and surprised me by -speaking to me. Maintaining his former sullenness, and scarcely looking -at me, he said abruptly: ‘You are going out again?’ - -I nodded assent. - -‘Do you remember a bald-faced bay horse that fell with you?’ he -muttered, keeping his dogged glance on the floor. - -I nodded again. - -‘I want to sell the horse,’ he said. ‘There is not such another in -Blois, no, nor in Paris! Touch it on the near hip with the whip and it -will go down as if shot. At other times a child might ride it. It is -in a stable, the third from the Three Pigeons, in the Ruelle Amancy. -Fresnoy does not know where it is. He sent to ask yesterday, but I would -not tell him.’ - -Some spark of human feeling which appeared in his lowering, brutal -visage as he spoke of the horse led me to desire further information. -Fortunately the little girl appeared at that moment at the door in -search of her play-fellow; and through her I learned that the man’s -motive for seeking to sell the horse was fear lest the dealer in whose -charge it stood should dispose of it to repay himself for its keep, and -he, Matthew, lose it without return. - -Still I did not understand why he applied to me, but I was well pleased -when I learned the truth. Base as the knave was, he had an affection for -the bay, which had been his only property for six years. Having this -in his mind, he had conceived the idea that I should treat it well, and -should not, because he was in prison and powerless, cheat him of the -price. - -In the end I agreed to buy the horse for ten crowns, paying as well what -was due at the stable. I had it in my head to do something also for the -man, being moved to this partly by an idea that there was good in him, -and partly by the confidence he had seen fit to place in me, which -seemed to deserve some return. But a noise below stairs diverted my -attention. I heard myself named, and for the moment forgot the matter. - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. TO ME, MY FRIENDS! - -I was impatient to learn who had come, and what was their errand with -me; and being still in that state of exaltation in which we seem to hear -and see more than at other times, I remarked a peculiar lagging in -the ascending footsteps, and a lack of buoyancy, which was quick to -communicate itself to my mind. A vague dread fell upon me as I stood -listening. Before the door opened I had already conceived a score of -disasters. I wondered that I had not inquired earlier concerning the -king’s safety, and en fin I experienced in a moment that complete -reaction of the spirits which is too frequently consequent upon an -excessive flow of gaiety. - -I was prepared, therefore, for heavy looks, but not for the persons who -wore them nor the strange bearing the latter displayed on entering. My -visitors proved to be M. d’Agen and Simon Fleix. And so far well. But -the former, instead of coming forward to greet me with the punctilious -politeness which always characterised him, and which I had thought to -be proof against every kind of surprise and peril, met me with downcast -eyes and a countenance so gloomy as to augment my fears a hundredfold; -since it suggested all those vague and formidable pains which M. de -Rambouillet had hinted might await me in a prison. I thought nothing -more probable than the entrance after them of a gaoler laden with gyves -and handcuffs; and saluting M. Francois with a face which, do what I -would, fashioned itself upon his, I had scarce composure sufficient to -place the poor accommodation of my room at his disposal. - -He thanked me; but he did it with so much gloom and so little -naturalness that I grew more impatient with each laboured syllable. -Simon Fleix had slunk to the window and turned his back on us. Neither -seemed to have anything to say. But a state of suspense was one which I -could least endure to suffer; and impatient of the constraint which -my friend’s manner was fast imparting to mine, I asked him at once and -abruptly if his uncle had returned. - -‘He rode in about midnight,’ he answered, tracing a pattern on the floor -with the point of his riding-switch. - -I felt some surprise on hearing this, since d’Agen was still dressed -and armed for the road, and was without all those prettinesses -which commonly marked his attire. But as he volunteered no further -information, and did not even refer to the place in which he found me, -or question me as to the adventures which had lodged me there, I let it -pass, and asked him if his party had overtaken the deserters. - -‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘with no result.’ - -‘And the king?’ - -‘M. de Rambouillet is with him now,’ he rejoined, still bending over his -tracing. - -This answer relieved the worst of my anxieties, but the manner of -the speaker was so distrait and so much at variance with the studied -INSOUCIANCE which he usually, affected, that I only grew more alarmed. I -glanced at Simon Fleix, but he kept his face averted, and I could gather -nothing from it; though I observed that he, too, was dressed for the -road, and wore his arms. I listened, but I could hear no sounds which -indicated that the Provost-Marshal was approaching. Then on a sudden I -thought of Mademoiselle de la Vire. Could it be that Maignan had proved -unequal to his task? - -I started impetuously from my stool under the influence of the emotion -which this thought naturally aroused, and seized M. d’Agen by the arm. -‘What has happened?’ I exclaimed. ‘Is it Bruhl? Did he break into my -lodgings last night? What!’ I continued, staggering back as I read the -confirmation of my fears in his face. ‘He did?’ - -M. d’Agen, who had risen also, pressed my hand with convulsive energy. -Gazing into my face, he held me a moment thus embraced, His manner a -strange mixture of fierceness and emotion. ‘Alas, yes,’ he answered, ‘he -did, and took away those whom he found there! Those whom he found there, -you understand! But M. de Rambouillet is on his way here, and in a -few minutes you will be free. We will follow together. If we overtake -them--well. If not, it will be time to talk.’ - -He broke off, and I stood looking at him, stunned by the blow, yet in -the midst of my own horror and surprise retaining sense enough to wonder -at the gloom on his brow and the passion which trembled in his words. -What had this to do with him? ‘But Bruhl?’ I said at last, recovering -myself with an effort--‘how did he gain access to the room? I left it -guarded.’ - -‘By a ruse, while Maignan and his men were away,’ was the answer. ‘Only -this lad of yours was there. Bruhl’s men overpowered him.’ - -‘Which way has Bruhl gone?’ I muttered, my throat dry, my heart beating -wildly. - -He shook his head. ‘All we know is that he passed through the south gate -with eleven horsemen, two women, and six led horses, at daybreak this -morning,’ he answered. ‘Maignan came to my uncle with the news, and M. -de Rambouillet went at once, early as it was, to the king to procure -your release. He should be here now.’ - -I looked at the barred window, the most horrible fears at my heart; -from it to Simon Fleix, who stood beside it, his attitude expressing -the utmost dejection. I went towards him. ‘You hound!’ I said in a low -voice, ‘how did it happen?’ - -To my surprise he fell in a moment on his knees, and raised his arm as -though to ward off a blow. ‘They imitated Maignan’s voice,’ he muttered -hoarsely. ‘We opened.’ - -‘And you dare to come here and tell me!’ I cried, scarcely restraining -my passion. ‘You, to whom I entrusted her. You, whom I thought devoted -to her. You have destroyed her, man!’ - -He rose as suddenly as he had cowered down. His thin, nervous face -underwent a startling change; growing on a sudden hard and rigid, while -his eyes began to glitter with excitement. ‘I--I have destroyed her? -Ay, mon dieu! I HAVE,’ he cried, speaking to my face, and no longer -flinching or avoiding my eye. ‘You may kill me, if you like. You do not -know all. It was I who stole the favour she gave you from your doublet, -and then said M. de Rosny had taken it! It was I who told her you had -given it away! It was I who brought her to the Little Sisters’, that she -might see you with Madame de Bruhl! It was I who did all, and destroyed -her! Now you know! Do with me what you like!’ - -He opened his arms as though to receive a blow, while I stood before -him astounded beyond measure by a disclosure so unexpected; full of -righteous wrath and indignation, and yet uncertain what I ought to do. -‘Did you also let Bruhl into the room on purpose?’ I cried at last. - -‘I?’ he exclaimed, with a sudden flash of rage in his eyes. ‘I would -have died first!’ - -I do not know how I might have taken this confession; but at the moment -there was a trampling of horses outside, and before I could answer him -I heard M. de Rambouillet speaking in haughty tones, at the door below. -The Provost-Marshal was with him, but his lower notes were lost in the -ring of bridles and the stamping of impatient hoofs. I looked towards -the door of my room, which stood ajar, and presently the two entered, -the Marquis listening with an air of contemptuous indifference to the -apologies which the other, who attended at his elbow, was pouring forth. -M. de Rambouillet’s face reflected none of the gloom and despondency -which M. d’Agen’s exhibited in so marked a degree. He seemed, on the -contrary, full of gaiety and good-humour, and, coming forward and seeing -me, embraced me with the utmost kindness and condescension. - -‘Ha! my friend,’ he said cheerfully, ‘so I find you here after all! -But never fear. I am this moment from the king with an order for your -release. His Majesty has told me all, making me thereby your lasting -friend and debtor. As for this gentleman,’ he continued, turning with -a cold smile to the Provost-Marshal, who seemed to be trembling in his -boots, ‘he may expect an immediate order also. M. de Villequier has -wisely gone a-hunting, and will not be back for a day or two.’ - -Racked as I was by suspense and anxiety, I could not assail him with -immediate petitions. It behoved me first to thank him for his prompt -intervention, and this in terms as warm as I could invent. Nor could -I in justice fail to commend the Provost; to him, representing the -officer’s conduct to me, and lauding his ability. All this, though -my heart was sick with thought and fear and disappointment, and every -minute seemed an age. - -‘Well, well,’ the Marquis said with stately good-nature, ‘We will lay -the blame on Villequier then. He is an old fox, however, and ten to one -he will go scot-free. It is not the first time he has played this trick. -But I have not yet come to the end of my commission,’ he continued -pleasantly. ‘His Majesty sends you this, M. de Marsac, and bade me say -that he had loaded it for you.’ - -He drew from under his cloak as he spoke the pistol which I had left -with the king, and which happened to be the same M. de Rosny had given -me. I took it, marvelling impatiently at the careful manner in which he -handled it; but in a moment I understood for I found it loaded to the -muzzle with gold-pieces, of which two or three fell and rolled upon the -floor. Much moved by this substantial mark of the king’s gratitude, -I was nevertheless for pocketing them in haste; but the Marquis, to -satisfy a little curiosity on his part, would have me count them, and -brought the tale to a little over two thousand livres, without counting -a ring set with precious stones which I found among them. This handsome -present diverted my thoughts from Simon Fleix, but could not relieve the -anxiety I felt on mademoiselle’s account. The thought of her position so -tortured me that M. de Rambouillet began to perceive my state of mind, -and hastened to assure me that before going to the Court he had already -issued orders calculated to assist me. - -‘You desire to follow this lady, I understand?’ he said. ‘What with the -king who is enraged beyond the ordinary by this outrage, and Francois -there, who seemed beside himself when he heard the news, I have not got -any very clear idea of the position.’ - -‘She was entrusted to me by--by one, sir, well known to you,’ I answered -hoarsely. ‘My honour is engaged to him and to her. If I follow on my -feet and alone, I must follow. If I cannot save her, I can at least -punish the villains who have wronged her.’ - -‘But the man’s wife is with them,’ he said in some wonder. - -‘That goes for nothing,’ I answered. - -He saw the strong emotion under which I laboured, and which scarcely -suffered me to answer him with patience; and he looked at me curiously, -but not unkindly. ‘The sooner you are off, the better then,’ he said, -nodding. ‘I gathered as much. The man Maignan will have his fellows -at the south gate an hour before noon, I understand. Francois has two -lackeys, and he is wild to go. With yourself and the lad there you will -muster nine swords. I will lend you two. I can spare no more, for we may -have an EMEUTE at any moment. You will take the road, therefore, eleven -in all, and should overtake them some time to-night if your horses are -in condition.’ - -I thanked him warmly, without regarding his kindly statement that my -conduct on the previous day had laid him under lasting obligations to -me. We went down together, and he transferred two of his fellows to me -there and then, bidding them change their horses for fresh ones and -meet me at the south gate. He sent also a man to my stable--Simon Fleix -having disappeared in the confusion--for the Cid, and was in the act of -inquiring whether I needed anything else, when a woman slipped through -the knot of horsemen who surrounded us as we stood in the doorway of -the house, and, throwing herself upon me, grasped me by the arm. It was -Fanchette. Her harsh features were distorted with grief, her cheeks -were mottled with the violent weeping in which such persons vent their -sorrow. Her hair hung in long wisps on her neck. Her dress was torn and -draggled, and there was a great bruise over her eye. She had the air of -one frantic with despair and misery. - -She caught me by the cloak, and shook me so that I staggered. ‘I have -found you at last!’ she cried joyfully. ‘You will take me with you! You -will take me to her!’ - -Though her words tried my composure, and my heart went out to her, -I strove to answer her according to the sense of the matter. ‘It is -impossible, I said sternly. ‘This is a man’s errand. We shall have to -ride day and night, my good woman.’ - -‘But I will ride day and night too!’ she replied passionately, flinging -the hair from her eyes, and looking wildly from me to M. Rambouillet. -‘What would I not do for her? I am as strong as a man, and stronger. -Take me, take me, I say, and when I meet that villain I will tear him -limb for limb!’ - -I shuddered, listening to her; but remembering that, being country -bred, she was really as strong as she said, and that likely enough some -advantage might accrue to us from her perfect fidelity and devotion -to her mistress, I gave a reluctant consent. I sent one of M. de -Rambouillet’s men to the stable where the deaf man’s bay was standing, -bidding him pay whatever was due to the dealer, and bring the horse to -the south gate; my intention being to mount one of my men on it, and -furnish the woman with a less tricky steed. - -The briskness of these and the like preparations, which even for one -of my age and in my state of anxiety were not devoid, of pleasure, -prevented my thoughts dwelling on the future. Content to have M. -Francois’ assistance without following up too keenly the train of ideas -which his readiness suggested, I was satisfied also to make use of Simon -without calling him to instant account for his treachery. The bustle of -the streets, which the confirmation of the king’s speedy departure had -filled with surly, murmuring crowds, tended still further to keep my -fears at bay; while the contrast between my present circumstances, as I -rode through them well-appointed and well-attended, with the Marquis by -my side, and the poor appearance I had exhibited on my first arrival in -Blois, could not fail to inspire me with hope that I might surmount this -danger, also, and in the event find Mademoiselle safe and uninjured. I -took leave of M. de Rambouillet with many expressions of esteem on both -sides, and a few minutes before eleven reached the rendezvous outside -the south gate. - -M. d’Agen and Maignan advanced to meet me, the former still presenting -an exterior so stern and grave that I wondered to see him, and could -scarcely believe he was the same gay spark whose elegant affectations -had more than once caused me to smile. He saluted me in silence; Maignan -with a sheepish air, which ill-concealed the savage temper defeat had -roused in him. Counting my men, I found we mustered ten only, but the -equerry explained that he had despatched a rider ahead to make inquiries -and leave word for us at convenient points; to the end that we might -follow the trail with as few delays as possible. Highly commending -Maignan for his forethought in this, I gave the word to start, and -crossing the river by the St. Gervais Bridge, we took the road for -Selles at a smart trot. - -The weather had changed much in the last twenty-four hours. The sun -shone brightly, with a warm west wind, and the country already showed -signs of the early spring which marked that year. If, the first hurry of -departure over, I had now leisure to feel the gnawing of anxiety and the -tortures inflicted by an imagination which, far outstripping us, rode -with those whom we pursued and shared their perils, I found two sources -of comfort still open to me. No man who has seen service can look on a -little band of well-appointed horsemen without pleasure. I reviewed the -stalwart forms and stern faces which moved beside me and comparing their -decent order and sound equipments with the scurvy foulness of the men -who had ridden north with me, thanked God, and, ceased to wonder at the -indignation which Matthew and his fellows had aroused in mademoiselle’s -mind. My other source of satisfaction, the regular beat of hoofs and -ring of bridles continually augmented. Every step took us farther from -Blois--farther from the close town and reeking streets and the Court; -which, if it no longer seemed to me a shambles, befouled by one great -deed of blood--experience had removed that impression--retained an -appearance infinitely mean and miserable in my eyes. I hated and loathed -its intrigues and its jealousies, the folly which trifled in a closet -while rebellion mastered France, and the pettiness which recognised no -wisdom save that of balancing party and party. I thanked God that my -work there was done, and could have welcomed any other occasion that -forced me to turn my back on it, and sent me at large over the pure -heaths, through the woods, and under the wide heaven, speckled with -moving clouds. - -But such springs of comfort soon ran dry. M. d’Agen’s gloomy rage and -the fiery gleam in Maignan’s eye would have reminded me, had I been -in any danger of forgetting the errand on which we were bound, and the -need, exceeding all other needs, which compelled us to lose no moment -that might be used. Those whom we followed had five hours’ start. The -thought of what might; happen in those five hours to the two helpless -women whom I had sworn to protect burned itself into my mind; so that -to refrain from putting spurs to my horse and riding recklessly forward -taxed at times all my self-control. The horses seemed to crawl. The men -rising and falling listlessly in their saddles maddened me. Though I -could not hope to come upon any trace of our quarry for many hours, -perhaps for days, I scanned the long, flat heaths unceasingly, searched -every marshy bottom before we descended into it, and panted for the -moment when the next low ridge should expose to our view a fresh track -of wood and waste. The rosy visions of the past night, and those fancies -in particular which had made the dawn memorable, recurred to me, as his -deeds in the body (so men say) to a hopeless drowning wretch. I grew to -think of nothing but Bruhl and revenge. Even the absurd care with which -Simon avoided the neighbourhood of Fanchette, riding anywhere so long -as he might ride at a distance from the angry woman’s tongue and -hand--which provoked many a laugh from the men, and came to be the joke -of the company--failed to draw a smile from me. - -We passed through Contres, four leagues from Blois, an hour after noon, -and three hours later crossed the Cher at Selles, where we stayed -awhile to bait our horses. Here we had news of the party before us, and -henceforth had little doubt that Bruhl was making for the Limousin; a -district in which he might rest secure under the protection of Turenne, -and safely defy alike the King of France and the King of Navarre. The -greater the necessity, it was plain, for speed; but the roads in -that neighbourhood, and forward as far as Valancy, proved heavy and, -foundrous, and it was all we could do to reach Levroux with jaded -horses three hours after sunset. The probability that Bruhl would lie -at Chateauroux, five leagues farther on--for I could not conceive that -under the circumstances he would spare the women--would have led me to -push forward had it been possible; but the darkness and the difficulty -of finding a guide who would venture deterred me from the hopeless -attempt, and we stayed the night where we were. - -Here we first heard of the plague; which was said to be ravaging -Chateauroux and all the country farther south. The landlord of the inn -would have regaled us with many stories of it, and particularly of the -swiftness with which men and even cattle succumbed to its attacks. But -we had other things to think of, and between anxiety and weariness had -clean forgotten the matter when we rose next morning. - -We started shortly after daybreak, and for three leagues pressed on at -tolerable speed. Then, for no reason stated, our guide gave us the slip -as we passed through a wood, and was seen no more. We lost the road, -and had to retrace our steps. We strayed into a slough, and extracted -ourselves with difficulty. The man who was riding the bay I had -purchased forgot the secret which I had imparted to him, and got an ugly -fall. En fin, after all these mishaps it wanted little of noon, -and less to exhaust our patience, when at length we came in sight of -Chateauroux. - -Before entering the town we had still an adventure; for we came at -a turn in the road on a scene as surprising as it was at first -inexplicable. A little north of the town, in a coppice of box facing the -south and west, we happed suddenly on a rude encampment, consisting of -a dozen huts and booths, set back from the road and formed, some of -branches of evergreen trees laid clumsily together, and some of sacking -stretched over poles. A number of men and women of decent appearance lay -on the short grass before the booths, idly sunning themselves; or moved -about, cooking and tending fires, while a score of children raced to and -fro with noisy shouts and laughter. The appearance of our party on the -scene caused an instant panic. The women and children fled screaming -into the wood, spreading the sound of breaking branches farther and -farther as they retreated; while the men, a miserable pale-faced set, -drew together, and seeming half-inclined to fly also, regarded us with -glances of fear and suspicion. - -Remarking that their appearance and dress were not those of vagrants, -while the booths seemed to indicate little skill or experience in the -builders, I bade my companions halt, and advanced alone. - -‘What is the meaning of this, my men?’ I said, addressing the first -group I reached. ‘You seem to have come a-Maying before the time. Whence -are you?’ - -‘From Chateauroux,’ the foremost answered sullenly. His dress, now I saw -him nearer, seemed to be that of a respectable townsman. - -‘Why?’ I replied. ‘Have you no homes?’ - -‘Ay, we have homes,’ he answered with the same brevity. - -‘Then why, in God’s name, are you here?’ I retorted, marking the gloomy -air and downcast faces of the group. ‘Have you been harried?’ - -‘Ay, harried by the Plague!’ he answered bitterly. ‘Do you mean to say -you have not heard? In Chateauroux there is one man dead in three. Take -my advice, sir--you are a brave company--turn, and go home again.’ - -‘Is it as bad as that?’ I exclaimed. I had forgotten the landlord’s -gossip, and the explanation struck me with the force of surprise. - -‘Ay, is it! Do you see the blue haze?’ he continued, pointing with a -sudden gesture to the lower ground before us, over which a light pall -of summery vapour hung still and motionless. ‘Do you see it? Well, under -that there is death! You may find food in Chateauroux, and stalls for -your horses, and a man to take money; for there are still men there. -But cross the Indre, and you will see sights worse than a battle-field a -week old! You will find no living soul in house or stable or church, but -corpses plenty. The land is cursed! cursed for heresy, some say! Half -are dead, and half are fled to the woods! And if you do not die of the -plague, you will starve.’ - -‘God forbid!’ I muttered, thinking with a shudder of those before -us. This led me to ask him if a party resembling ours in number, and -including two women, had passed that way. He answered, Yes, after sunset -the evening before; that their horses were stumbling with fatigue -and the men swearing in pure weariness. He believed that they had not -entered the town, but had made a rude encampment half a mile beyond it; -and had again broken this up, and ridden southwards two or three hours -before our arrival. - -‘Then we may overtake them to-day?’ I said. - -‘By your leave, sir,’ he answered, with grave meaning. ‘I think you are -more likely to meet them.’ - -Shrugging my shoulders, I thanked him shortly and left him; the full -importance of preventing my men hearing what I had heard--lest the -panic which possessed these townspeople should seize on them also--being -already in my mind. Nevertheless the thought came too late, for on -turning my horse I found one of the foremost, a long, solemn-faced man, -had already found his way to Maignan’s stirrup; where he was dilating -so eloquently upon the enemy which awaited us southwards that the -countenances of half the troopers were as long as his own, and I saw -nothing for it but to interrupt his oration by a smart application of my -switch to his shoulders. Having thus stopped him, and rated him back to -his fellows, I gave the word to march. The men obeyed mechanically, we -swung into a canter, and for a moment the danger was over. - -But I knew that it would recur again and again. Stealthily marking the -faces round me, and listening to the whispered talk which went on, I saw -the terror spread from one to another. Voices which earlier in the day -had been raised in song and jest grew silent. Great reckless fellows of -Maignan’s following, who had an oath and a blow for all comers, and -to whom the deepest ford seemed to be child’s play, rode with drooping -heads and knitted brows; or scanned with ill-concealed anxiety the -strange haze before us, through which the roofs of the town, and here -and there a low hill or line of poplars, rose to plainer view. Maignan -himself, the stoutest of the stout, looked grave, and had lost his -swaggering air. Only three persons preserved their SANG-FROID entire. Of -these, M. d’Agen rode as if he had heard nothing, and Simon Fleix as if -he feared nothing; while Fanchette, gazing eagerly forward, saw, it was -plain, only one object in the mist, and that was her Mistress’s face. - -‘We found the gates of the town open, and this, which proved to be the -herald of stranger sights, daunted the hearts of my men more than the -most hostile reception. As we entered, our horses’ hoofs, clattering -loudly on the pavement, awoke a hundred echoes in the empty houses to -right and left. The main street, flooded with sunshine, which made its -desolation seem a hundred times more formidable, stretched away before -us, bare and empty; or haunted only by a few slinking dogs, and prowling -wretches, who fled, affrighted at the unaccustomed sounds, or stood and -eyed us listlessly as me passed. A bell tolled; in the distance we heard -the wailing of women. The silent ways, the black cross which marked -every second door, the frightful faces which once or twice looked out -from upper windows and blasted our sight, infected my men with terror so -profound and so ungovernable that at last discipline was forgotten; -and one shoving his horse before another in narrow places, there was -a scuffle to be first. One, and then a second, began to trot. The trot -grew into a shuffling canter. The gates of the inn lay open, nay seemed -to invite us to enter; but no one turned or halted. Moved by a single -impulse we pushed breathlessly on and on, until the open country was -reached, and we who had entered the streets in silent awe, swept out and -over the bridge as if the fiend were at our heels. - -That I shared in this flight causes me no shame even now, for my men -were at the time ungovernable, as the best-trained troops are when -seized by such panics; and, moreover, I could have done no good by -remaining in the town, where the strength of the contagion was probably -greater and the inn larder like to be as bare, as the hillside. Few -towns are without a hostelry outside the gates for the convenience of -knights of the road or those who would avoid the dues, and Chateauroux -proved no exception to this rule. A short half-mile from the walls we -drew rein before a second encampment raised about a wayside house. -It scarcely needed the sound of music mingled with brawling voices to -inform us that the wilder spirits of the town had taken refuge here, and -were seeking to drown in riot and debauchery, as I have seen happen in a -besieged place, the remembrance of the enemy which stalked abroad in the -sunshine. Our sudden appearance, while it put a stop to the mimicry -of mirth, brought out a score of men and women in every stage of -drunkenness and dishevelment, of whom some, with hiccoughs and loose -gestures, cried to us to join them, while others swore horridly at being -recalled to the present, which, with the future, they were endeavouring -to forget. - -I cursed them in return for a pack of craven wretches, and threatening -to ride down those who obstructed us, ordered my men forward; halting -eventually a quarter of a mile farther on, where a wood of groundling -oaks which still wore last year’s leaves afforded fair shelter. Afraid -to leave my men myself, lest some should stray to the inn and others -desert altogether, I requested M. d’Agen to return thither with Maignan -and Simon, and bring us what forage and food we required. This he did -with perfect success, though not until after a scuffle, in which -Maignan showed himself a match for a hundred. We watered the horses at -a neighbouring brook, and assigning two hours to rest and refreshment--a -great part of which M. d’Agen and I spent walking up and down in moody -silence, each immersed in his own thoughts--we presently took the road -again with renewed spirits. - -But a panic is not easily shaken off, nor is any fear so difficult to -combat and defeat as the fear of the invisible. The terrors which food -and drink had for a time thrust out presently returned with sevenfold -force. Men looked uneasily in one another’s faces, and from them to the -haze which veiled all distant objects. They muttered of the heat, -which was sudden, strange, and abnormal at that time of the year. And -by-and-by they had other things to speak of. We met a man, who ran -beside us and begged of us, crying out in a dreadful voice that his wife -and four children lay unburied in the house. A little farther on, beside -a well, the corpse of a woman with a child at her breast lay poisoning -the water; she had crawled to it to appease her thirst, and died of the -draught. Last of all, in, a beech-wood near Lotier we came upon a lady -living in her coach, with one or two panic-stricken women for her only -attendants. Her husband was in Paris, she told me; half her servants -were dead, the rest had fled. Still she retained in a remarkable degree -both courage and courtesy, and accepting with fortitude my reasons -and excuses for perforce leaving her in such a plight, gave me a clear -account of Bruhl and his party, who had passed her some, hours before. -The picture of this lady gazing after us with perfect good-breeding, -as we rode away at speed, followed by the lamentations of her women, -remains with me to this day; filling my mind at once with admiration and -melancholy. For, as I learned later, she fell ill of the plague where we -left her in the beech-wood, and died in a night with both her servants. - -The intelligence we had from her inspired us to push forward, sparing -neither spur nor horseflesh, in the hope that we might overtake Bruhl -before night should expose his captives to fresh hardships and dangers. -But the pitch to which the dismal sights and sounds I have mentioned, -and a hundred like them, had raised the fears of my following did much -to balk my endeavours. For a while, indeed, under the influence of -momentary excitement, they spurred their horses to the gallop, as if -their minds were made up to face the worst; but presently they checked -them despite all my efforts, and, lagging slowly and more slowly, seemed -to lose all spirit and energy. The desolation which met our eyes on -every side, no less than the death-like stillness which prevailed, even -the birds, as it seemed to us, being silent, chilled the most reckless -to the heart. Maignan’s face lost its colour, his voice its ring. As for -the rest, starting at a sound and wincing if a leather galled them, -they glanced backwards twice for once they looked forwards, and held -themselves ready to take to their heels and be gone at the least alarm. - -Noting these signs, and doubting if I could trust even Maignan, I -thought it prudent to change my place, and falling to the rear, rode -there with a grim face and a pistol ready to my hand. It was not the -least of my annoyances that M. d’Agen appeared to be ignorant of any -cause for apprehension save such as lay before us, and riding on in the -same gloomy fit which had possessed him from the moment of starting, -neither sought my opinion nor gave his own, but seemed to have undergone -so complete and mysterious a change that I could think of one thing only -that could have power to effect so marvellous a transformation. I felt -his presence a trial rather than a help, and reviewing the course of our -short friendship, which a day or two before had been so great a delight -to me--as the friendship of a young man commonly is to one growing -old--I puzzled myself with much wondering whether there could be rivalry -between us. - -Sunset, which was welcome to my company, since it removed the haze, -which they regarded with superstitious dread, found us still plodding -through a country of low ridges and shallow valleys, both clothed in -oak-woods. Its short brightness died away, and with it my last hope of -surprising Bruhl before I slept. Darkness fell upon us as we wended -our way slowly down a steep hillside where the path was so narrow and -difficult as to permit only one to descend at a time. A stream of some -size, if we might judge from the noise it made, poured through the -ravine below us, and presently, at the point where we believed the -crossing to be, we espied a solitary light shining in the blackness. -To proceed farther was impossible, for the ground grew more and more -precipitous; and, seeing this, I bade Maignan dismount, and leaving us -where we were, go for a guide to the house from which the light issued. - -He obeyed, and plunging into the night, which in that pit; between the -hills was of an inky darkness, presently returned with a peasant and a -lanthorn. I was about to bid the man guide us to the ford, or to some -level ground where we could picket the horses, when Maignan gleefully -cried out that he had news. I asked what news. - -‘Speak up, MANANT!’ he said, holding up his lanthorn so that the light -fell on the man’s haggard face and unkempt hair. ‘Tell his Excellency -what you have told me, or I will skin you alive, little man!’ - -‘Your other party came to the ford an hour before sunset,’ the peasant -answered, staring dully at us. ‘I saw them coming, and hid myself. They -quarrelled by the ford. Some were for crossing, and some not.’ - -‘They had ladies with them?’ M. d’Agen said suddenly. - -‘Ay, two, your Excellency,’ the clown answered, ‘riding like men. In the -end they did not cross for fear of the plague, but turned up the river, -and rode westwards towards St. Gaultier.’ - -‘St. Gaultier!’ I said, ‘Where is that? Where does the road to it go to -besides?’ - -But the peasant’s knowledge was confined to his own neighbourhood. He -knew no world beyond St. Gaultier, and could not answer my question. I -was about to bid him show us the way down, when Maignan cried out that -he knew more. - -‘What?’ I asked. - -‘Arnidieu! he heard them say where they were going to spend the night!’ - -‘Ha!’ I cried. ‘Where?’ - -‘In an old ruined castle two leagues from this, and between here and St. -Gaultier,’ the equerry answered, forgetting in his triumph both plague -and panic. ‘What do you say to that, your Excellency? It is so, sirrah, -is it not?’ he continued, turning to the peasant. ‘Speak, Master -Jacques, or I will roast you before a slow fire!’ - -But I did not wait to hear the answer. Leaping to the ground, I took the -Cid’s rein on my arm, and cried impatiently to the man to lead us down. - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CASTLE ON THE HILL. - -The certainty that Bruhl and his captives were not far off, and the -likelihood that we might be engaged within the hour, expelled from the -minds of even the most timorous among us the vapourish fears which had -before haunted them. In the hurried scramble which presently landed us -on the bank of the stream, men who had ridden for hours in sulky -silence found their voices, and from cursing their horses’ blunders soon -advanced to swearing and singing after the fashion of their kind. This -change, by relieving me of a great fear, left me at leisure to consider -our position, and estimate more clearly than I might have done the -advantages of hastening, or postponing, an attack. We numbered eleven; -the enemy, to the best of my belief, twelve. Of this slight superiority -I should have reeked little in the daytime; nor, perhaps, counting -Maignan as two, have allowed that it existed. But the result of a -night attack is more difficult to forecast; and I had also to take into -account the perils to which the two ladies would be exposed, between the -darkness and tumult, in the event of the issue remaining for a time in -doubt. - -These considerations, and particularly the last, weighed so powerfully -with me, that before I reached the bottom of the gorge I had decided to -postpone the attack until morning. The answers to some questions which -I put to the inhabitant of the house by the ford as soon as I reached -level ground only confirmed me in this resolution. The road Bruhl had -taken ran for a distance by the riverside, and along the bottom of -the gorge; and, difficult by day, was reported to be impracticable for -horses by night. The castle he had mentioned lay full two leagues away, -and on the farther edge of a tract of rough woodland. Finally, I doubted -whether, in the absence of any other reason for delay, I could have -marched my men, weary as they were, to the place before daybreak. - -When I came to announce this decision, however, and to inquire what -accommodation the peasant could afford us, I found myself in trouble. -Fanchette, mademoiselle’s woman, suddenly confronted me, her face -scarlet with rage. Thrusting herself forward into the circle of light -cast by the lanthorn, she assailed me with a virulence and fierceness -which said more for her devotion to her mistress than her respect for -me. Her wild gesticulations, her threats, and the appeals which she -made now to me, and now to the men who stood in a circle round us, their -faces in shadow, discomfited as much as they surprised me. - -‘What!’ she cried violently, ‘you call yourself a gentleman, and lie -here and let my mistress be murdered, or worse, within a league of you! -Two leagues? A groat for your two leagues! I would walk them barefoot, -if that would shame you. And you, you call yourselves men, and suffer -it! It is God’s truth you are a set of cravens and sluggards. Give me as -many women, and I would--’ - -‘Peace, woman!’ Maignan said in his deep voice. ‘You had your way and -came with us, and you will obey orders as well as another! Be off, and -see to the victuals before worse happen to you!’ - -‘Ay, see to the victuals!’ she retorted. ‘See to the victuals, forsooth! -That is all you think of--to lie warm and eat your fill! A set of -dastardly, drinking, droning guzzlers you are! You are!’ she retorted, -her voice rising to a shriek. ‘May the plague take you!’ - -‘Silence!’ Maignan growled fiercely, ‘or have a care to yourself! For a -copper-piece I would send you to cool your heels in the water below--for -that last word! Begone, do you hear,’ he continued, seizing her by the -shoulder and thrusting her towards the house, ‘or worse may happen to -you. We are rough customers, as you will find if you do not lock up your -tongue!’ - -I heard her go wailing into the darkness; and Heaven knows it was not -without compunction I forced myself to remain inactive in the face of a -devotion which seemed so much greater than mine. The men fell away one -by one to look to their horses and choose sleeping-quarters for the -night; and presently M. d’Agen and I were left alone standing beside the -lanthorn, which the man had hung on a bush before his door. The brawling -of the water as it poured between the banks, a score of paces from us, -and the black darkness which hid everything beyond the little ring -of light in which we stood--so that for all we could see we were in a -pit--had the air of isolating us from all the world. - -I looked at the young man, who had not once lisped that day; and I -plainly read in his attitude his disapproval of my caution. Though he -declined to meet my eye, he stood with his arms folded and his head -thrown back, making no attempt to disguise the scorn and ill-temper -which his face expressed. Hurt by the woman’s taunts, and possibly -shaken in my opinion, I grew restive under his silence, and unwisely -gave way to my feelings. - -‘You do not appear to approve of my decision, M. d’Agen?’ I said. - -‘It is yours to command, sir,’ he answered proudly. - -There are truisms which have more power to annoy than the veriest -reproaches. I should have borne in mind the suspense and anxiety he was -suffering, and which had so changed him that I scarcely knew him for -the gay young spark on whose toe I had trodden. I should have remembered -that he was young and I old, and that it behoved me to be patient. But -on my side also there was anxiety, and responsibility as well; and, -above all, a rankling soreness, to which I refrain from giving the name -of jealousy, though it came as near to that feeling as the difference -in our ages and personal advantages (whereof the balance was all on his -side) would permit. This, no doubt, it was which impelled me to continue -the argument. - -‘You would go on?’ I said persistently. - -‘It is idle to say what I would do,’ he answered with a flash of anger. - -‘I asked for your opinion, sir,’ I rejoined stiffly. - -‘To what purpose?’ he retorted, stroking his small moustache haughtily, -‘We look at the thing from opposite points. You, are going about your -business, which appears to be the rescuing of ladies who are--may I -venture to say it? so unfortunate as to entrust themselves to your -charge. I, M. de Marsac, am more deeply interested. More deeply -interested,’ he repeated lamely. ‘I--in a word, I am prepared, sir, to -do what others only talk of--and if I cannot follow otherwise, would -follow on my feet!’ - -‘Whom?’ I asked curtly, stung by this repetition of my own words. - -He laughed harshly and bitterly. ‘Why explain? or why quarrel?’ -he replied cynically. ‘God knows, if I could afford to quarrel with -you, I should have done so fifty hours ago. But I need your help; and, -needing it, I am prepared to do that which must seem to a person of your -calm passions and perfect judgment alike futile and incredible--pay the -full price for it.’ - -‘The full price for it!’ I muttered, understanding nothing, except that -I did not understand. - -‘Ay, the full price for it!’ he repeated. And as he spoke he looked at -me with an expression of rage so fierce that I recoiled a step. That -seemed to restore him in some degree to himself, for without giving me -an opportunity of answering he turned hastily from me, and, striding -away, was in a moment lost in the darkness. - -He left me amazed beyond measure. I stood repeating his phrase about -‘the full price’ a hundred times over, but still found it and his -passion inexplicable. To cut the matter short, I could come to no other -conclusion than that he desired to insult me, and aware of my poverty -and the equivocal position in which I stood towards mademoiselle, chose -his words accordingly. This seemed a thing unworthy of one of whom I -had before thought highly; but calmer reflection enabling me to see -something of youthful bombast in the tirade he had delivered, I smiled -a little sadly, and determined to think no more of the matter for the -present, but to persist firmly in that which seemed to me to be the -right course. - -Having settled this, I was about to enter the house, when Maignan -stopped me, telling me that the plague had killed five people in it, -letting only the man we had seen; who had, indeed, been seized, but -recovered. This ghastly news had scared my company to such a degree that -they had gone as far from the house as the level ground permitted, and -there lighted a fire, round which they were going to pass the night. -Fanchette had taken up her quarters in the stable, and the equerry -announced that he had kept a shed full of sweet hay for M. d’Agen and -myself. I assented to this arrangement, and after supping off soup and -black bread, which was all we could procure, bade the peasant rouse us -two hours before sunrise; and so, being too weary and old in service to -remain awake thinking, I fell asleep, and slept; soundly till a little -after four. - -My first business on rising was to see that the men before mounting made -a meal, for it is ill work fighting empty. I went round also and saw -that all had their arms, and that such as carried pistols had them -loaded and primed. Francois did not put in an appearance until this work -was done, and then showed a very pale and gloomy countenance. I took no -heed of him, however, and with the first streak of daylight we started -in single file and at a snail’s pace up the valley, the peasant, whom I -placed in Maignan’s charge, going before to guide us, and M. d’Agen and -I riding in the rear. By the time the sun rose and warmed our chilled -and shivering frames we were over the worst of the ground, and were able -to advance at some speed along a track cut through a dense forest of -oak-trees. - -Though we had now risen out of the valley, the close-set trunks and the -undergrowth round them prevented our seeing in any direction. For a mile -or more we rode on blindly, and presently started on finding ourselves -on the brow of a hill, looking down into a valley, the nearer end of -which was clothed in woods, while the farther widened into green sloping -pastures. From the midst of these a hill or mount rose sharply up, -until it ended in walls of grey stone scarce to be distinguished at that -distance from the native rock on which they stood. - -‘See!’ cried our guide. ‘There is the castle!’ - -Bidding the men dismount in haste, that the chance of our being seen by -the enemy--which was not great--might be farther lessened, I began to -inspect the position at leisure; my first feeling while doing so being -one of thankfulness that I had not attempted a night attack, which -must inevitably have miscarried, possibly with loss to ourselves, and -certainly with the result of informing the enemy of our presence. The -castle, of which we had a tolerable view, was long and narrow in shape, -consisting of two towers connected by walls, The nearer tower, through -which lay the entrance, was roofless, and in every way seemed to be more -ruinous than the inner one, which appeared to be perfect in both its -stories. This defect notwithstanding, the place was so strong that my -heart sank lower the longer I looked; and a glance at Maignan’s face -assured me that his experience was also at fault. For M. d’Agen, I -clearly saw, when I turned to him, that he had never until this moment -realised what we had to expect, but, regarding our pursuit in the light -of a hunting-party, had looked to see it end in like easy fashion. His -blank, surprised face, as he stood eyeing the stout grey walls, said as -much as this. - -‘Arnidieu!’ Maignan muttered, ‘give me ten men, and I would hold it -against a hundred!’ - -‘Tut, man, There is more than one way to Rome!’ I answered oracularly, -though I was far from feeling as confident as I seemed. ‘Come, let us -descend and view this nut a little nearer.’ - -We began to trail downwards in silence, and as the path let us for a -while, out of sight of the castle, we were able to proceed with less -caution. We had nearly reached without adventure the father skirts of -the wood, between which and the ruin lay an interval of open ground, -when we came suddenly, at the edge of a little clearing, on an old hag; -who was so intent; upon tying up faggots that she did not see us until -Maignan’s hand was on her shoulder. When she did, she screamed out, and -escaping from him with an activity wonderful in a woman of her age, ran -with great swiftness to the side of an old man who lay at the foot of a -tree half a bowshot off; and whom we had not before seen. Snatching up -an axe, she put herself in a posture of defence before him with gestures -and in a manner as touching in the eyes of some among us as they were -ludicrous in those of others; who cried to Maignan that he had met his -match at last, with other gibes of the kind that pass current in camps. - -I called to him to let her be, and went forward myself to the old man, -who lay on a rude bed of leaves, and seemed unable to rise. Appealing -to me with a face of agony not to hurt his wife, he bade her again and -again lay down her axe; but she would not do this until I had assured -her that we meant him no harm, and that my men should molest neither the -one nor the other. - -‘We only want to know this,’ I said, speaking slowly, in fear lest my -language should be little more intelligible to them than their PATOIS to -me. ‘There are a dozen horsemen in the old castle there, are there not?’ - -The man stilled his wife, who continued to chatter and mow at us, and -answered eagerly that there were; adding, with a trembling oath, that -the robbers had beaten him, robbed him of his small store of meal, and -when he would have protested, thrown him out, breaking his leg. - -‘Then how came you here?’ I said. - -‘She brought me on her back,’ he answered feebly. - -Doubtless there were men in my train who would have done all that these -others had done; but hearing the simple story told, they stamped and -swore great oaths of indignation; and one, the roughest of the party, -took out some black bread and gave it to the woman, whom under other -circumstances he would not have hesitated to rob. Maignan, who knew -all arts appertaining to war, examined the man’s leg and made a kind of -cradle for it, while I questioned the woman. - -‘They are there still?’ I said. ‘I saw their horses tethered under the -walls.’ - -‘Yes, God requite them!’ she answered, trembling violently. - -‘Tell me about the castle, my good woman,’ I said. ‘How many roads into -it are there?’ - -‘Only one.’ - -‘Through the nearer tower?’ - -She said yes, and finding that she understood me, and was less dull of -intellect than her wretched appearance led me to expect, I put a series -of questions to her which it would be tedious to detail. Suffice it -that I learned that it was impossible to enter or leave the ruin except -through the nearer tower; that a rickety temporary gate barred the -entrance, and that from this tower, which was a mere shell of four -walls, a narrow square-headed doorway without a door led into the court, -beyond which rose the habitable tower of two stories. - -‘Do you know if they intend to stay there?’ I asked - -‘Oh, ay, they bade me bring them faggots for their fire this morning, -and I should have a handful of my own meal back,’ she answered bitterly; -and fell thereon into a passion of impotent rage, shaking both her -clenched hands in the direction of the castle, and screaming frenzied -maledictions in her cracked and quavering voice. - -I pondered awhile over what she had said; liking very little the thought -of that narrow square-headed doorway through which we must pass before -we could effect anything. And the gate, too, troubled me. It might not -be a strong one, but we had neither powder, nor guns, nor any siege -implements, and could not pull down stone walls with our naked hands. By -seizing the horses we could indeed cut off Bruhl’s retreat; but he might -still escape in the night; and in any case our pains would only increase -the women’s hardships while adding fuel to his rage. We must have some -other plan. - -The sun was high by this time; the edge of the wood scarcely a hundred -paces from us. By advancing a few yards through the trees I could see -the horses feeding peacefully at the foot of the sunny slope, and even -follow with my eyes the faint track which zigzagged up the hill to -the closed gate. No one appeared--doubtless they were sleeping off -the fatigue of the journey--and I drew no inspiration thence; but as -I turned to consult Maignan my eye lit on the faggots, and I saw in a -flash that here was a chance of putting into practice a stratagem as old -as the hills, yet ever fresh, and not seldom successful. - -It was no time for over-refinement. My knaves were beginning to stray -forward out of curiosity, and at any moment one of our horses, scenting -those of the enemy, might neigh and give the alarm. Hastily calling -M. d’Agen and Maignan to me, I laid my plan before them, and satisfied -myself that it had their approval; the fact that I had reserved a -special part for the former serving to thaw the reserve which had -succeeded to his outbreak of the night before. After some debate Maignan -persuaded me that the old woman had not sufficient nerve to play the -part I proposed for her, and named Fanchette; who being called into -council, did not belie the opinion we had formed of her courage. In -a few moments our preparations were complete: I had donned the old -charcoal-burner’s outer rags, Fanchette had assumed those of the woman, -while M. d’Agen, who was for a time at a loss, and betrayed less taste -for this part of the plan than for any other, ended by putting on the -jerkin and hose of the man who had served us as guide. - -When all was ready I commended the troop to Maignan’s discretion, -charging him in the event of anything happening to us to continue the -most persistent efforts for mademoiselle’s release, and on no account -to abandon her. Having received his promise to this effect, and being -satisfied that he would keep it, we took up each of us a great faggot, -which being borne on the head and shoulders served to hide the features -very effectually; and thus disguised we boldly left the shelter of the -trees. Fanchette and I went first, tottering in a most natural fashion -under the weight of our burdens, while M. d’Agen followed a hundred -yards behind. I had given Maignan orders to make a dash for the gate the -moment he saw the last named start to run. - -The perfect stillness of the valley, the clearness of the air, and the -absence of any sign of life in the castle before us--which might have -been that of the Sleeping Princess, so fairy-like it looked against the -sky--with the suspense and excitement in our own breasts, which these -peculiarities seemed to increase a hundred-fold, made the time that -followed one of the strangest in my experience. It was nearly ten -o’clock, and the warm sunshine flooding everything about us rendered -the ascent, laden as we were, laborious in the extreme. The crisp, -short turf, which had scarcely got its spring growth, was slippery and -treacherous. We dared not hasten, for we knew not what eyes were upon -us, and we dared as little after we had gone half-way--lay our faggots -down, lest the action should disclose too much of our features. - -When we had reached a point within a hundred paces of the gate, which -still remained obstinately closed, we stood to breathe ourselves, and -balancing my bundle on my head, I turned to make sure that all was right -behind us. I found that M. d’Agen, intent on keeping his distance, -had chosen the same moment for rest, and was sitting in a very natural -manner on his faggot, mopping his face with the sleeve of his jerkin. -I scanned the brown leafless wood, in which we had left Maignan and our -men; but I could detect no glitter among the trees nor any appearance -likely to betray us. Satisfied on these points, I muttered a few -words of encouragement to Fanchette, whose face was streaming with -perspiration; and together we turned and addressed ourselves to our -task, fatigue--for we had had no practice in carrying burdens on the -head--enabling us to counterfeit the decrepitude of age almost to the -life. - -The same silence prevailing as we drew nearer inspired me with not a few -doubts and misgivings. Even the bleat of a sheep would have been welcome -in the midst of a stillness which seemed ominous. But no sheep bleated, -no voice hailed us. The gate, ill-hung and full of fissures, remained -closed. Step by step we staggered up to it, and at length reached it. -Afraid to speak lest my accent should betray me, I struck the forepart -of my faggot against it and waited: doubting whether our whole stratagem -had not been perceived from the beginning, and a pistol-shot might not -be the retort. - -Nothing of the kind happened, however. The sound of the blow, which -echoed dully through the building, died away, and the old silence -resumed its sway. We knocked again, but fully two minutes elapsed before -a grumbling voice, as of a man aroused from sleep, was heard drawing -near, and footsteps came slowly and heavily to the gate. Probably the -fellow inspected us through a loophole, for he paused a moment, and my -heart sank; but the next, seeing nothing suspicious, he unbarred the -gate with a querulous oath, and, pushing it open, bade us enter and be -quick about it. - -I stumbled forward into the cool, dark shadow, and the woman followed -me, while the man, stepping out with a yawn, stood in the entrance, -stretching himself in the sunshine. The roofless tower, which smelled -dank and unwholesome, was empty, or cumbered only with rubbish and heaps -of stones; but looking through the inner door I saw in the courtyard a -smouldering fire and half a dozen men in the act of rousing themselves -from sleep. I stood a second balancing my faggot, as if in doubt where -to lay it down; and then assuring myself by a swift glance that the man -who had let us in still had his back towards us, I dropped it across the -inner doorway, Fanchette, as she had been instructed, plumped hers upon -it, and at the same moment I sprang to the door, and taking the man -there by surprise, dealt him a violent blow between the shoulders, which -sent him headlong down the slope. - -A cry behind me, followed by an oath of alarm, told me that the action -was observed and that now was the pinch. In a second I was back at the -faggots, and drawing a pistol from under my blouse was in time to meet -the rush of the nearest man, who, comprehending all, sprang up, and made -for me, with his sheathed sword. I shot him in the chest as he cleared -the faggots--which, standing nearly as high as a man’s waist, formed a -tolerable obstacle--and he pitched forward at my feet. - -This balked his companions, who drew back; but unfortunately it was -necessary for me to stoop to get my sword, which was hidden in the -faggot I had carried. The foremost of the rascals took advantage of -this. Rushing at me with a long knife, he failed to stab me--for I -caught his wrist--but he succeeded in bringing me to the ground. I -thought I was undone. I looked to have the others swarm over upon us; -and so it would doubtless have happened had not Fanchette, with rare -courage, dealt the first who followed a lusty blow on the body with a -great stick she snatched up. The man collapsed on the faggots, and this -hampered the rest. The check was enough. It enabled M. d’Agen to come -up, who, dashing in through the gate, shot down the first he saw before -him, and running at the doorway with his sword with incredible fury and -the courage which I had always known him to possess, cleared it in a -twinkling. The man with whom I was engaged on the ground, seeing what -had happened, wrested himself free with the strength of despair, and -dashing through the outer door, narrowly escaped being ridden down by my -followers as they swept up to the gate at a gallop, and dismounted amid -a whirlwind of cries. - -In a moment they thronged in on us pell-mell, and as soon as I could lay -my hand on my sword I led them through the doorway with a cheer, hoping -to be able to enter the farther tower with the enemy. But the latter had -taken the alarm too early and too thoroughly. The court was empty. We -were barely in time to see the last man dart up a flight of outside -stairs, which led to the first story, and disappear, closing a heavy -door behind him. I rushed to the foot of the steps and would have -ascended also, hoping against hope to find the door unsecured; but a -shot which was fired through a loop hole and narrowly missed my head, -and another which brought down one of my men, made me pause. Discerning -all the advantage to be on Bruhl’s side, since he could shoot us down -from his cover, I cried a retreat; the issue of the matter leaving -us masters of the entrance-tower, while they retained the inner and -stronger tower, the narrow court between the two being neutral ground -unsafe for either party. - -Two of their men had fled outwards and were gone, and two lay dead; -while the loss on our side was confined to the man who was shot, and -Fanchette, who had received a blow on the head in the MELEE, and was -found, when we retreated, lying sick and dazed against the wall. - -It surprised me much, when I came to think upon it, that I had seen -nothing of Bruhl, though the skirmish had lasted two or three minutes -from the first outcry, and been attended by an abundance of noise. Of -Fresnoy, too, I now remembered that I had caught a glimpse only. These -two facts seemed so strange that I was beginning to augur the worst, -though I scarcely know why, when my spirits were marvellously raised and -my fears relieved by a thing which Maignan, who was the first to notice -it, pointed out to me. This was the appearance at an upper window of a -white ‘kerchief, which was waved several times towards us. The window -was little more than an arrow-slit, and so narrow and high besides -that it was impossible to see who gave the signal; but my experience of -mademoiselle’s coolness and resource left me in no doubt on the point. -With high hopes and a lighter heart than I had worn for some time I -bestirred myself to take every precaution, and began by bidding Maignan -select two men and ride round the hill, to make sure that the enemy had -no way of retreat open to him. - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. PESTILENCE AND FAMINE. - -While Maignan was away about this business I despatched two men to catch -our horses, which were running loose in the valley, and to remove those -of Bruhl’s party to a safe distance from the castle. I also blocked up -the lower part of the door leading into the courtyard, and named four -men to remain under arms beside it, that we might not be taken by -surprise; an event of which I had the less fear, however, since the -enemy were now reduced to eight swords, and could only escape, as we -could only enter, through this doorway. I was still busied with these -arrangements when M. d’Agen joined me, and I broke off to compliment him -on his courage, acknowledging in particular the service he had done me -personally. The heat of the conflict had melted the young man’s reserve, -and flushed his face with pride; but as he listened to me he gradually -froze again, and when I ended he regarded me with the same cold -hostility. - -‘I am obliged to you,’ he said, bowing. ‘But may I ask what next, M. de -Marsac?’ - -‘We have no choice,’ I answered. ‘We can only starve them out.’ - -‘But the ladies?’ he said, starting slightly. ‘What of them?’ - -‘They will suffer less than the men,’ I replied. ‘Trust me, the latter -will not bear starving long.’ - -He seemed surprised, but I explained that with our small numbers we -could not hope to storm the tower, and might think ourselves fortunate -that we now had the enemy cooped up where he could not escape, and must -eventually surrender. - -‘Ay, but in the meantime how will you ensure the women against -violence?’ he asked, with an air which showed he was far from satisfied. - -‘I will see to that when Maignan comes back,’ I answered pretty -confidently. - -The equerry appeared in a moment with the assurance that egress from the -farther side of the tower was impossible. I bade him nevertheless keep -a horseman moving round the hill, that we might have intelligence of -any attempt. The order was scarcely given when a man--one of those I had -left on guard at the door of the courtyard--came to tell me that Fresnoy -desired to speak with me on behalf of M. de Bruhl. - -‘Where is he?’ I asked. - -‘At the inner door with a flag of truce,’ was the answer. - -‘Tell him, then,’ I said, without offering to move, ‘that I will -communicate with no one except his leader, M. de Bruhl. And add this, -my friend,’ I continued. ‘Say it aloud that if the ladies whom he has -in charge are injured by so much as a hair, I will hang every man within -these walls, from M. de Bruhl to the youngest lackey.’ And I added a -solemn oath to that effect. - -The man nodded, and went on his errand, while I and M. d’Agen, with -Maignan, remained standing outside the gate, looking idly over the -valley and the brown woods through which we had ridden in the early -morning. My eyes rested chiefly on the latter, Maignan’s as it proved on -the former. Doubtless we all had our own thoughts. Certainly I had, -and for a while, in my satisfaction at the result of the attack and -the manner in which we had Bruhl confined, I did not remark the gravity -which was gradually overspreading the equerry’s countenance. When I did -I took the alarm, and asked him sharply what was the matter. ‘I don’t -like that, your Excellency,’ he answered, pointing into the valley. - -I looked anxiously, and looked, and saw nothing. - -‘What?’ I said in astonishment. - -‘The blue mist,’ he muttered, with a shiver. ‘I have been watching it -this half-hour, your Excellency. It is rising fast.’ - -I cried out on him for a maudlin fool, and M. d’Agen swore impatiently; -but for all that, and despite the contempt I strove to exhibit, I felt -a sudden chill at my heart as I recognised in the valley below the same -blue haze which had attended us through yesterday’s ride, and left us -only at nightfall. Involuntarily we both fell to watching it as it -rose slowly and more slowly, first enveloping the lower woods, and then -spreading itself abroad in the sunshine. It is hard to witness a bold -man’s terror and remain unaffected by it; and I confess I trembled. -Here, in the moment of our seeming success, was something which I had -not taken into account, something against which I could not guard either -myself or others! - -‘See!’ Maignan whispered hoarsely, pointing again with his linger. ‘It -is the Angel of Death, your Excellency! Where he kills by ones and twos, -he is invisible. But when he slays by hundreds and by thousands, men see -the shadow of his wings!’ - -‘Chut, fool!’ I retorted with, anger, which was secretly proportioned to -the impression his weird saying made on me. ‘You have been in battles! -Did you ever see him there? or at a sack? A truce to this folly,’ I -continued. ‘And do you go and inquire what food we have with us. It may -be necessary to send for some.’ - -I watched him go doggedly off, and knowing the stout nature of the man -and his devotion to his master, I had no fear that he would fail us; but -there were others, almost as necessary to us, in whom I could not place -the same confidence. And these had also taken the alarm. When I turned I -found groups of pale-faced men, standing by twos and threes at my back; -who, pointing and muttering and telling one another what Maignan had -told us, looked where we had looked. As one spoke and another listened, -I saw the old panic revive in their eyes. Men who an hour or two before -had crossed the court under fire with the utmost resolution, and dared -instant death without a thought, grew pale, and looking from this side -of the valley to that; with faltering eyes, seemed to be seeking, like -hunted animals, a place of refuge. Fear, once aroused, hung in the -air. Men talked in whispers of the abnormal heat, and, gazing at the -cloudless sky, fled from the sunshine to the shadow; or, looking over -the expanse of woods, longed to be under cover and away from this lofty -eyrie, which to their morbid eyes seemed a target for all the shafts of -death. - -‘I was not slow to perceive the peril with which these fears and -apprehensions, which rapidly became general, threatened my plans. I -strove to keep the men employed, and to occupy their thoughts as far as -possible with the enemy and his proceedings; but I soon found that even -here a danger lurked; for Maignan, coming to me by-and-by with a -grave face, told me that one of Bruhl’s men had ventured out, and was -parleying with the guard on our side of the court. I went at once and -broke the matter off, threatening to shoot the fellow if he was not -under cover before I counted ten. But the scared, sultry faces he left -behind him told me that the mischief was done, and I could think of no -better remedy for it than to give M. d’Agen a hint, and station him at -the outer gate with his pistols ready. - -The question of provisions, too, threatened to become a serious one; I -dared not leave to procure them myself, nor could I trust any of my -men with the mission. In fact the besiegers were rapidly becoming the -besieged. Intent on the rising haze and their own terrors, they forgot -all else. Vigilance and caution were thrown to the winds. The stillness -of the valley, its isolation, the distant woods that encircled us and -hung quivering in the heated air, all added to the panic. Despite all -my efforts and threats, the men gradually left their posts, and getting -together in little parties at the gate, worked themselves up to such a -pitch of dread that by two hours after noon they were fit for any folly; -and at the mere cry of ‘plague!’ would have rushed to their horses and -ridden in every direction. - -It was plain that I could depend for useful service on myself and three -others only--of whom, to his credit be it said, Simon Fleix was one. -Seeing this, I was immensely relieved when I presently heard that -Fresnoy was again seeking to speak with me. I was no longer, it will be -believed, for standing on formalities; but glad to waive in silence the -punctilio on which I had before insisted, and anxious to afford him no -opportunity of marking the slackness which prevailed among my men, I -hastened to meet him at the door of the courtyard where Maignan had -detained him. - -I might have spared my pains, however. I had no more than saluted him -and exchanged the merest preliminaries before I saw that he was in a -state of panic far exceeding that of my following. His coarse face, -which had never been prepossessing, was mottled and bedabbled with -sweat; his bloodshot eyes, when they met mine, wore the fierce yet -terrified expression of an animal caught in a trap. Though his first -word was an oath, sworn for the purpose of raising his courage, the -bully’s bluster was gone. He spoke in a low voice, and his hands shook; -and for a penny-piece I saw he would have bolted past me and taken his -chance in open flight. - -I judged from his first words, uttered, as I have said, with an oath, -that he was aware of his state. ‘M. de Marsac,’ he said, whining like a -cur, ‘you know me, to be a man of courage.’ - -I needed nothing after this to assure me that he meditated something of -the basest; and I took care how I answered him. ‘I have known you stiff -enough upon occasions,’ I replied drily. ‘And then, again, I have known -you not so stiff, M. Fresnoy.’ - -‘Only when you were in question,’ he muttered with another oath. ‘But -flesh and blood cannot stand this. You could not yourself. Between -him and them I am fairly worn out. Give me good terms--good terms, you -understand, M. de Marsac?’ he whispered eagerly, sinking his voice still -lower, ‘and you shall have all you want.’ - -‘Your lives, and liberty to go where you please,’ I answered coldly. -‘The two ladies to be first given up to me uninjured. Those are the -terms.’ - -‘But for me?’ he said anxiously. - -‘For you? The same as the others,’ I retorted. ‘Or I will make a -distinction for old acquaintance sake, M. Fresnoy; and if the ladies -have aught to complain of, I will hang you first.’ - -He tried to bluster and hold out for a sum of money, or at least for -his horse to be given up to him. But I had made up my mind to reward my -followers with a present of a horse apiece; and I was besides well aware -that this was only an afterthought on his part, and that he had fully -decided to yield. I stood fast, therefore. The result justified my -firmness, for he presently agreed to surrender on those terms. - -‘Ay, but M. de Bruhl?’ I said, desiring to learn clearly whether he had -authority to treat for all. ‘What of him?’ - -He looked at me impatiently. ‘Come and see!’ he said, with an ugly -sneer. - -‘No, no, my friend,’ I answered, shaking my head warily. ‘That is not -according to rule. You are the surrendering party, and it is for you to -trust us. Bring out the ladies, that I may have speech with them, and -then I will draw off my men.’ - -‘Nom de Dieu!’ he cried hoarsely, with so much fear and rage in his face -that I recoiled from him. ‘That is just what I cannot do.’ - -‘You cannot?’ I rejoined with a sudden thrill of horror. ‘Why not? why -not, man?’ And in the excitement of the moment, conceiving the idea that -the worst had happened to the women, I pushed him back with so much fury -that he laid his hand on his sword. - -‘Confound you!’ he stuttered, ‘stand back! It is not that, I tell you! -Mademoiselle is safe and sound, and madame, if she had her senses, would -be sound too. It is not our fault if she is not. But I have not got the -key of the rooms. It is in Bruhl’s pocket, I tell you!’ - -‘Oh!’ I made answer drily. ‘And Bruhl?’ - -‘Hush, man,’ Fresnoy replied, wiping the perspiration from his brow, and -bringing his pallid, ugly face, near to mine, ‘he has got the plague!’ - -I stared at him for a moment in silence; which he was the first to -break. ‘Hush!’ he muttered again, laying a trembling hand on my arm, -‘if the men knew it--and not seeing him they are beginning to suspect -it--they would rise on us. The devil himself could not keep them here. -Between him and them I am on a razor’s edge. Madame is with him, and -the door is locked. Mademoiselle is in a room upstairs, and the door -is locked. And he has the keys. What can I do? What can I do, man?’ he -cried, his voice hoarse with terror and dismay. - -‘Get the keys,’ I said instinctively. - -‘What?’ From him?’ he muttered, with an irrepressible shudder, which -shook his bloated cheeks. ‘God forbid I should see him! It takes -stout men infallibly. I should be dead by night! By God, I should!’ he -continued, whining. ‘Now you are not stout, M. de Marsac. If you will -come with me I will draw off the men from that part; and you may go in -and get the key from him.’ - -His terror, which surpassed all feeling, and satisfied me without doubt -that he was in earnest, was so intense that it could not fail to infect -me. I felt my face, as I looked into his, grow to the same hue. I -trembled as he did and grew sick. For if there is a word which blanches -the soldier’s cheek and tries his heart more than another, it is the -name of the disease which travels in the hot noonday, and, tainting the -strongest as he rides in his pride, leaves him in a few hours a poor -mass of corruption. The stoutest and the most reckless fear it; nor -could I, more than another, boast myself indifferent to it, or think of -its presence without shrinking. But the respect in which a man of birth -holds himself saves him from the unreasoning fear which masters the -vulgar; and in a moment I recovered myself, and made up my mind what it -behoved me to do. - -‘Wait awhile,’ I said sternly, ‘and I will come with you.’ - -He waited accordingly, though with manifest impatience, while I sent -for M. d’Agen, and communicated to him what I was about to do. I did not -think it necessary to enter into details, or to mention Bruhl’s state, -for some of the men were well in hearing. I observed that the young -gentleman received my directions with a gloomy and dissatisfied air. But -I had become by this time so used to his moods, and found myself so -much mistaken in his character, that I scarcely gave the matter a second -thought. I crossed the court with Fresnoy, and in a moment had mounted -the outside staircase and passed through the heavy doorway. - -The moment I entered, I was forced to do Fresnoy the justice of -admitting that he had not come to me before he was obliged. The three -men who were on guard inside tossed down their weapons at sight of me, -while a fourth, who was posted at a neighbouring window, hailed me with -a cry of relief. From the moment I crossed the threshold the defence was -practically at an end. I might, had I chosen or found it consistent with -honour, have called in my following and secured the entrance. Without -pausing, however, I passed on to the foot of a gloomy stone staircase -winding up between walls of rough masonry; and here Fresnoy stood on one -side and stopped. He pointed upwards with a pale face and muttered, ‘The -door on the left.’ - -Leaving him there watching me as I went upwards, I mounted slowly to the -landing, and by the light of an arrow-slit which dimly lit the ruinous -place found the door he had described, and tried it with my hand. It -was locked, but I heard someone moan in the room, and a step crossed -the floor, as if he or another came to the door and listened. I knocked, -hearing my heart beat in the silence. At last a voice quite strange to -me cried, ‘Who is it?’ - -‘A friend,’ I muttered, striving to dull my voice that they might not -hear me below. - -‘A friend!’ the bitter answer came. ‘Go! You have made a mistake! We -have no friends.’ - -‘It is I, M. de Marsac,’ I rejoined, knocking more imperatively. ‘I -would see M. de Bruhl. I must see him.’ - -The person inside, at whose identity I could now make a guess, uttered -a low exclamation, and still seemed to hesitate. But on my repeating my -demand I heard a rusty bolt withdrawn, and Madame de Bruhl, opening the -door a few inches, showed her face in the gap. ‘What do you want?’ she -murmured jealously. - -Prepared as I was to see her, I was shocked by the change in her -appearance, a change which even that imperfect light failed to hide. Her -blue eyes had grown larger and harder, and there were dark marks under -them. Her face, once so brilliant, was grey and pinched; her hair had -lost its golden lustre. ‘What do you want?’ she repeated, eyeing me -fiercely. - -‘To see him,’ I answered. - -‘You know?’ she muttered. ‘You know that he--’ - -I nodded. - -And you still want to come in? My God! Swear you will not hurt him?’ - -‘Heaven forbid!’ I said; and on that she held the door open that I might -enter. But I was not half-way across the room before she had passed me, -and was again between me and the wretched makeshift pallet. Nay, when -I stood and looked down at him, as he moaned and rolled in senseless -agony, with livid face and distorted features (which the cold grey light -of that miserable room rendered doubly appalling), she hung over him and -fenced him from me: so that looking on him and her, and remembering how -he had treated her, and why he came to be in this place, I felt unmanly -tears rise to my eyes. The room was still a prison, a prison with broken -mortar covering the floor and loopholes for windows; but the captive was -held by other chains than those of force. When she might have gone free, -her woman’s love surviving all that he had done to kill it, chained -her to his side with fetters which old wrongs and present danger were -powerless to break. - -It was impossible that I could view a scene so strange without feelings -of admiration as well as pity; or without forgetting for a while, in -my respect for Madame de Bruhl’s devotion, the risk which had seemed so -great to me on the stairs. I had come simply for a purpose of my own, -and with no thought of aiding him who lay here. But so great, as I -have noticed on other occasions, is the power of a noble example, that, -before I knew it, I found myself wondering what I could do to help this -man, and how I could relieve madame, in the discharge of offices which -her husband had as little right to expect at her hands as at mine. At -the mere sound of the word Plague I knew she would be deserted in this -wilderness by all, or nearly all; a reflection which suggested to me -that I should first remove mademoiselle to a distance, and then consider -what help I could afford here. - -I was about to tell her the purpose with which I had come when a -paroxysm more than ordinarily violent, and induced perhaps by the -excitement of my presence--though he seemed beside himself--seized him, -and threatened to tax her powers to the utmost. I could not look on and -see her spend herself in vain; and almost before I knew what I was doing -I had laid my hands on him and after a brief struggle thrust him back -exhausted on the couch. - -She looked at me so strangely after that that in the half-light which -the loopholes afforded I tried in vain to read her meaning. ‘Why did you -come?’ she cried at length, breathing quickly. ‘You, of all men? Why did -you come? He was no friend of yours, Heaven knows!’ - -‘No, madame, nor I of his,’ I answered bitterly, with a sudden revulsion -of feeling. - -‘Then why are you here?’ she retorted. - -‘I could not send one of my men,’ I answered. ‘And I want the key of the -room above.’ - -At the mention of that the room above--she flinched as if I had struck -her, and looked as strangely at Bruhl as she had before looked at me. No -doubt the reference to Mademoiselle de la Vire recalled to her mind -her husband’s wild passion for the girl, which for the moment she had -forgotten. Nevertheless she did not speak, though her face turned very -pale. She stooped over the couch, such as it was, and searching his -clothes, presently stood up, and held out the key to me. ‘Take it, and -let her out,’ she said with a forced smile. ‘Take it up yourself, and do -it. You have done so much for her it is right that you should do this.’ - -I took the key, thanking her with more haste than thought, and turned -towards the door, intending to go straight up to the floor above and -release mademoiselle. My hand was already on the door, which madame, I -found, had left ajar in the excitement of my entrance, when I heard her -step behind me. The next instant she touched me on the shoulder. ‘You -fool!’ she exclaimed, her eyes flashing, ‘would you kill her?’ Would you -go from him to her, and take the plague to her? God forgive me, it was -in my mind to send you. And men are such puppets you would have gone!’ - -I trembled with horror, as much at my stupidity as at her craft. For she -was right: in another moment I should have gone, and comprehension and -remorse would have come too late. As it was, in my longing at once -to reproach her for her wickedness and to thank her for her timely -repentance, I found no words; but I turned away in silence and went out -with a full heart. - - - -CHAPTER XXX. STRICKEN. - -Outside the door, standing in the dimness of the landing, I found M. -d’Agen. At any other time I should have been the first to ask him why he -had left the post which I had assigned to him. But at the moment I was -off my balance, and his presence suggested nothing more than that here -was the very person who could best execute my wishes. I held out the key -to him at arms length, and bade him release Mademoiselle de la Vire, who -was in the room above, and escort her out of the castle. ‘Do not let -her linger here,’ I continued urgently. ‘Take her to the place where we -found the wood-cutters. You need fear no resistance.’ - -‘But Bruhl?’ he said, as he took the key mechanically from me. - -‘He is out of the question,’ I answered in a low voice. ‘We have done -with him. He has the plague.’ - -He uttered a sharp exclamation. ‘What of madame, then?’ he muttered. - -‘She is with him,’ I said. - -He cried out suddenly at that, sucking in his breath, as I have known -men do in pain. And but that I drew back he would have laid his hand on -my sleeve. ‘With him?’ he stammered. ‘How is that?’ - -‘Why, man, where else should she be?’ I answered, forgetting that the -sight of those two together had at first surprised me also, as well as -moved me. ‘Or who else should be with him? He is her husband.’ - -He stared at me for a moment at that, and then he turned slowly away -and began to go up; while I looked after him, gradually thinking out the -clue to his conduct. Could it be that it was not mademoiselle attracted -him, but Madame de Bruhl? - -And with that hint I understood it all. I saw in a moment; the -conclusion to which he had come on hearing of the presence of madame -in my room. In my room at night! The change had dated from that time; -instead of a careless, light-spirited youth he had become in a moment -a morose and restive churl, as difficult to manage as an unbroken colt. -Quite clearly I saw now the meaning of the change; why he had shrunk -from me, and why all intercourse between us had been so difficult; and -so constrained. - -I laughed to think how he had deceived himself, and how nearly I had -come to deceiving myself also. And what more I might have thought I -do not know, for my meditations were cut short at this point by a loud -outcry below, which, beginning in one or two sharp cries of alarm and -warning, culminated quickly in a roar of anger and dismay. - -Fancying I recognised Maignan’s voice, I ran down the stairs, seeking -a loophole whence I could command the scene; but finding none, and -becoming more and more alarmed, I descended to the court, which I -found, to my great surprise, as empty and silent as an old battle-field. -Neither on the enemy’s side nor on ours was a single man to be seen. -With growing dismay I sprang across the court and darted through the -outer tower, only to find that and the gateway equally unguarded. Nor -was it until I had passed through the latter, and stood on the brow of -the slope, which we had had to clamber with so much toil, that I learned -what was amiss. - -Far below me a string of men, bounding and running at speed, streamed -down the hill towards the horses. Some were shouting, some running -silently, with their elbows at their sides and their scabbards leaping -against their calves. The horses stood tethered in a ring near the edge -of the wood, and by some oversight had been left unguarded. The foremost -runner I made out to be Fresnoy; but a number of his men were close -upon him, and then after an interval came Maignan, waving his blade and -emitting frantic threats with every stride. Comprehending at once -that Fresnoy and his following, rendered desperate by panic and the -prospective loss of their horses, had taken advantage of my absence and -given Maignan the slip, I saw I could do nothing save watch the result -of the struggle. - -This was not long delayed. Maignan’s threats, which seemed to me mere -waste of breath, were not without effect on those he followed. There -is nothing which demoralises men like flight. Troopers who have stood -charge after charge while victory was possible will fly like sheep, and -like sheep allow themselves to be butchered, when they have once turned -the back. So it was here. Many of Fresnoy’s men were stout fellows, -but having started to run they had no stomach for fighting. Their fears -caused Maignan to appear near, while the horses seemed distant; and one -after another they turned aside and made like rabbits for the wood. -Only Fresnoy, who had taken care to have the start of all, kept on, -and, reaching the horses, cut the rope which tethered the nearest, and -vaulted nimbly on its back. Safely seated there, he tried to frighten -the others into breaking loose; but not succeeding at the first attempt, -and seeing Maignan, breathing vengeance, coming up with him, he started -his horse, a bright bay, and rode off laughing along the edge of the -wood. - -Fully content with the result--for our carelessness might have cost -us very dearly--I was about to turn away when I saw that Maignan had -mounted and was preparing to follow. I stayed accordingly to see the -end, and from my elevated position enjoyed a first-rate view of the race -which ensued. Both were heavy weights, and at first Maignan gained no -ground. But when a couple of hundred yards had been covered Fresnoy had -the ill-luck to blunder into some heavy ground, and this enabling his -pursuer, who had time to avoid it, to get within two-score paces of him, -the race became as exciting as I could wish. Slowly and surely Maignan, -who had chosen the Cid, reduced the distance between them to a score of -paces--to fifteen--to ten. Then Fresnoy, becoming alarmed, began to look -over his shoulder and ride in earnest. He had no whip, and I saw him -raise his sheathed sword, and strike his beast on the flank. It sprang -forward, and appeared for a few strides to be holding its own. Again he -repeated the blow but this time with a different result. While his hand -was still in the air, his horse stumbled, as it seemed to me, made a -desperate effort to recover itself, fell headlong and rolled over and -over. - -Something in the fashion of the fall, which reminded me of the mishap I -had suffered on the way to Chize led me to look more particularly at the -horse as it rose trembling to its feet, and stood with drooping head. -Sure enough, a careful glance enabled me, even at that distance, to -identify it as Matthew’s bay--the trick-horse. Shading my eyes, and -gazing on the scene with increased interest, I saw Maignan, who had -dismounted, stoop over something on the ground, and again after an -interval stand upright. - -But Fresnoy did not rise. Nor was it without awe that, guessing what had -happened to him, I remembered how he had used this very horse to befool -me; how heartlessly he had abandoned Matthew, its owner; and by what -marvellous haps--which men call chances--Providence had brought it to -this place, and put it in his heart to choose it out of a score which -stood ready to his hand! - -I was right. The man’s neck was broken. He was quite dead. Maignan -passed the word to one, and he to another, and so it reached me on the -hill. It did not fail to awaken memories both grave and wholesome. -I thought of St. Jean d’Angely, of Chize, of the house in the Ruelle -d’Arcy; then in the midst of these reflections I heard voices, and -turned to find mademoiselle, with M. d’Agen behind me. - -Her hand was still bandaged, and her dress, which she had not changed -since leaving Blois, was torn and stained with mud. Her hair was in -disorder; she walked with a limp. Fatigue and apprehension had stolen -the colour from her cheeks, and in a word she looked, when I turned, so -wan and miserable that for a moment I feared the plague had seized her. - -The instant, however, that she caught sight of me a wave of colour -invaded, not her cheeks only, but her brow and neck. From her hair -to the collar of her gown she was all crimson. For a second she stood -gazing at me, and then, as I saluted her, she sprang forward. Had I not -stepped back she would have taken my hands. - -My heart so overflowed with joy at this sight, that in the certainty her -blush gave me I was fain to toy with my happiness. All jealousy of M. -d’Agen was forgotten; only I thought it well not to alarm her by telling -her what I knew of the Bruhls. ‘Mademoiselle,’ I said earnestly, bowing, -but retreating from her, ‘I thank God for your escape. One of your -enemies lies helpless here, and another is dead yonder.’ - -‘It is not of my enemies I am thinking,’ she answered quickly, ‘but of -God, of whom you rightly remind me; and then of my friends.’ - -‘Nevertheless,’ I answered as quickly, ‘I beg you will not stay to thank -them now, but go down to the wood with M. d’Agen, who will do all that -may be possible to make you comfortable.’ - -‘And you, sir?’ she said, with a charming air of confusion. - -‘I must stay here,’ I answered, ‘for a while.’ - -‘Why?’ she asked with a slight frown. - -I did not know how to tell her, and I began lamely. ‘Someone must stop -with madame,’ I said without thought. - -‘Madame?’ she exclaimed. ‘Does she require assistance? I will stop.’ - -‘God forbid!’ I cried. - -I do not know how she understood the words, but her face, which had been -full of softness, grew hard. She moved quickly towards me; but, mindful -of the danger I carried about me, I drew farther back. ‘No nearer, -mademoiselle,’ I murmured, ‘if you please.’ - -She looked puzzled, and finally angry, turning away with a sarcastic -bow. ‘So be it, then, sir,’ she said proudly, ‘if you desire it. M. -d’Agen, if you are not afraid of me, will you lead me down?’ - -I stood and watched them go down the hill, comforting myself with the -reflection that to-morrow, or the next day, or within a few days at -most, all would be well. Scanning her figure as she moved, I fancied -that she went with less spirit as the space increased between us. And I -pleased myself with the notion. A few days, a few hours, I thought, and -all would be well. The sunset which blazed in the west was no more than -a faint reflection of the glow which for a few minutes pervaded my mind, -long accustomed to cold prospects and the chill of neglect. - -A term was put to these pleasant imaginings by the arrival of Maignan; -who, panting from the ascent of the hill, informed me with a shamefaced -air that the tale of horses was complete, but that four of our men were -missing, and had doubtless gone off with the fugitives. These proved -to be M. d’Agen’s two lackeys and the two varlets M. de Rambouillet had -lent us. There remained besides Simon Fleix only Maignan’s three men -from Rosny; but the state in which our affairs now stood enabled us to -make light of this. I informed the equerry--who visibly paled at the -news--that M. de Bruhl lay ill of the plague, and like to die; and I -bade him form a camp in the wood below, and, sending for food to -the house where we had slept the night before, make mademoiselle as -comfortable as circumstances permitted. - -He listened with surprise, and when I had done asked with concern what I -intended to do myself. - -‘Someone must remain with Madam de Bruhl,’ I answered. ‘I have already -been to the bedside to procure the key of mademoiselle’s room, and I run -no farther risk. All I ask is that you will remain in the neighbourhood, -and furnish us with supplies should it be necessary.’ - -He looked at me with emotion, which, strongly in conflict with his fears -as it was, touched me not a little. ‘But morbleu! M. de Marsac,’ he -said, ‘you will take the plague and die.’ - -‘If God wills,’ I answered, very lugubriously I confess, for pale looks -in one commonly so fearless could not but depress me. ‘But if not, I -shall escape. Any way, my friend,’ I continued, ‘I owe you a quittance. -Simon Fleix has an inkhorn and paper. Bid him bring them to this stone -and leave them, and I will write that Maignan, the equerry of the Baron -de Rosny, served me to the end as a brave soldier and an honest friend. -‘What, MON AMI?’ I continued, for I saw that he was overcome by this, -which was, indeed, a happy thought of mine. ‘Why not? It is true, and -will acquit you with the Baron. Do it, and go. Advise M. d’Agen, and be -to him what you have been to me.’ - -He swore two or three great oaths, such as men of his kind use to hide -an excess of feeling, and after some further remonstrance went away to -carry out my orders; leaving me to stand on the brow in a strange kind -of solitude, and watch horses and men withdraw to the wood, until the -whole valley seemed left to me and stillness and the grey evening. For -a time I stood in thought. Then reminding myself, for a fillip to my -spirits, that I had been far more alone when I walked the streets of St. -Jean friendless and threadbare (than I was now), I turned, and swinging -my scabbard against my boots for company, stumbled through the dark, -silent courtyard, and mounted as cheerfully as I could to madame’s room. - -To detail all that passed during the next five days would be tedious -and in indifferent taste, seeing that I am writing this memoir for the -perusal of men of honour; for though I consider the offices which the -whole can perform for the sick to be worthy of the attention of every -man, however well born, who proposes to see service, they seem to be -more honourable in the doing than the telling. One episode, however, -which marked those days filled me then, as it does now, with the most -lively pleasure; and that was the unexpected devotion displayed by Simon -Fleix, who, coming to me, refused to leave, and showed himself at this -pinch to be possessed of such sterling qualities that I freely forgave -him the deceit he had formerly practised on me. The fits of moody -silence into which he still fell at times and an occasional irascibility -seemed to show that he had not altogether conquered his insane fancy; -but the mere fact that; he had come to me in a situation of hazard, and -voluntarily removed himself from mademoiselle’s neighbourhood, gave me -good hope for the future. - -M. de Bruhl died early on the morning of the second day, and Simon and -I buried him at noon. He was a man of courage and address, lacking only -principles. In spite of madame’s grief and prostration, which were as -great as though she had lost the best husband in the world, we removed -before night to a separate camp in the woods; and left with the utmost -relief the grey ruin on the hill, in which, it seemed to me, we had -lived an age. In our new bivouac, where, game being abundant, and the -weather warm, we lacked no comfort, except the society of our friends, -we remained four days longer. On the fifth morning we met the others of -our company by appointment on the north road, and commenced the return -journey. - -Thankful that we had escaped contagion, we nevertheless still proposed -to observe for a time such precautions in regard to the others as seemed -necessary; riding in the rear and having no communication with them, -though they showed by signs the pleasure they felt at seeing us. From -the frequency with which mademoiselle turned and looked behind her, -I judged she had overcome her pique at my strange conduct; which the -others should by this time have explained to her. Content, therefore, -with the present, and full of confidence in the future, I rode along in -a rare state of satisfaction; at one moment planning what I would do, -and at another reviewing what I had done. - -The brightness and softness of the day, and the beauty of the woods, -which in some places, I remember, were bursting into leaf, contributed -much to establish me in this frame of mind. The hateful mist, which -had so greatly depressed us, had disappeared; leaving the face of the -country visible in all the brilliance of early spring. The men who rode -before us, cheered by the happy omen, laughed and talked as they rode, -or tried the paces of their horses, where the trees grew sparsely; and -their jests and laughter coming pleasantly to our ears as we followed, -warmed even madame’s sad face to a semblance of happiness. - -I was riding along in this state of contentment when a feeling of -fatigue, which the distance we had come did not seem to justify, led me -to spur the Cid into a brisker pace. The sensation of lassitude still -continued, however, and indeed grew worse; so that I wondered idly -whether I had over-eaten myself at my last meal. Then the thing passed -for awhile from my mind, which the descent of a steep hill sufficiently -occupied. - -But a few minutes later, happening to turn in the saddle, I experienced -a strange and sudden dizziness; so excessive as to force me to grasp the -cantle, and cling to it, while trees and hills appeared to dance round -me. A quick, hot pain in the side followed, almost before I recovered -the power of thought; and this increased so rapidly, and was from the -first so definite, that, with a dreadful apprehension already formed -in my mind, I thrust my hand inside my clothes, and found that swelling -which is the most sure and deadly symptom of the plague. - -The horror of that moment--in which I saw all those things on the -possession of which I had just been congratulating myself, pass -hopelessly from me, leaving me in dreadful gloom--I will not attempt to -describe in this place. Let it suffice that the world lost in a moment -its joyousness, the sunshine its warmth. The greenness and beauty round -me, which an instant before had filled me with pleasure, seemed on a -sudden no more than a grim and cruel jest at my expense, and I an atom -perishing unmarked and unnoticed. Yes, an atom, a mote; the bitterness -of that feeling I well remember. Then, in no long time--being a -soldier--I recovered my coolness, and, retaining the power to think, -decided what it behoved me to do. - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. UNDER THE GREENWOOD. - -To escape from my companions on some pretext, which should enable me to -ensure their safety without arousing their fears, was the one thought -which possessed me on the subsidence of my first alarm. Probably it -answered to that instinct in animals which bids them get away alone when -wounded or attacked by disease; and with me it had the fuller play as -the pain prevailed rather by paroxysms, than in permanence, and, coming -and going, allowed intervals of ease, in which I was able to think -clearly and consecutively, and even to sit firmly in the saddle. - -The moment one of these intervals enabled me to control myself, I used -it to think where I might go without danger to others; and at once and -naturally my thoughts turned to the last place we had passed; which -happened to be the house in the gorge where we had received news of -Bruhl’s divergence from the road. The man who lived there alone had had -the plague; therefore he did not fear it. The place itself was solitary, -and I could reach it, riding slowly, in half an hour. On the instant -and without more delay I determined on this course. I would return, -and, committing myself to the fellow’s good offices, bid him deny me to -others, and especially to my friends--should they seek me. - -Aware that I bad no time to lose if I would put this plan into execution -before the pains returned to sap my courage, I drew bridle at once, -and muttered some excuse to madame; if I remember rightly, that I had -dropped my gauntlet. Whatever the pretext--and my dread was great lest -she should observe any strangeness in my manner--it passed with her; by -reason, chiefly, I think, of the grief which monopolised her. She let me -go, and before anyone else could mark or miss me I was a hundred yards -away on the back-track, and already sheltered from observation by a turn -in the road. - -The excitement of my evasion supported me for a while after leaving her; -and then for another while, a paroxysm of pain deprived me of the power -of thought. But when this last was over, leaving me weak and shaken, yet -clear in my mind, the most miserable sadness and depression that can be -conceived came upon me; and, accompanying me through the wood, filled -its avenues (which doubtless were fair enough to others’ eyes) with the -blackness of despair. I saw but the charnel-house, and that everywhere. -It was not only that the horrors of the first discovery returned upon me -and almost unmanned me; nor only that regrets and memories, pictures of -the past and plans for the future, crowded thick upon my mind, so that -I could have wept at the thought of all ending here. But in my weakness -mademoiselle’s face shone where the wood was darkest, and, tempting and -provoking me to return--were it only to tell her that, grim and dull as -I seemed, I loved her--tried me with a subtle temptation almost beyond -my strength to resist. All that was mean in me rose in arms, all that -was selfish clamoured to know why I must die in the ditch while others -rode in the sunshine; why I must go to the pit, while others loved and -lived! - -And so hard was I pressed that I think I should have given way had the -ride been longer or my horse less smooth and nimble. But in the midst of -my misery, which bodily pain was beginning to augment to such a degree -that I could scarcely see, and had to ride gripping the saddle with both -hands, I reached the mill. My horse stopped of its own accord. The man -we had seen before came out. I had I just strength left to tell him what -was the matter, and what I wanted and then a fresh attack came on, with -sickness, and overcome by vertigo I fell to the ground. - -I have but an indistinct idea what happened after that; until I found -myself inside the house, clinging to the man’s arm. He pointed to a -box-bed in one corner of the room (which was, or seemed to my sick eyes, -gloomy and darksome in the extreme), and would have had me lie down in -it. But something inside me revolted against the bed, and despite the -force he used, I broke away, and threw myself on a heap of straw which I -saw in another corner. - -‘Is not the bed good enough for you?’ he grumbled. - -I strove to tell him it was not that. - -‘It should be good enough to die on,’ he continued brutally. ‘There’s -five have died on that bed, I’d have you know! My wife one, and my son -another, and my daughter another; and then my son again, and a daughter -again. Five! Ay, five in that bed!’ - -Brooding in the gloom of the chimney-corner, where he was busied about a -black pot, he continued to mutter and glance at me askance; but after a -while I swooned away with pain. - -When I opened my eyes again the room was darker. The man still sat where -I had last seen him, but a noise, the same, perhaps, which had roused -me, drew him as I looked to the unglazed window. A voice outside, the -tones of which I seemed to know, inquired if he had seen me; and so -carried away was I by the excitement of the moment that I rose on my -elbow to hear the answer. But the man was staunch. I heard him deny all -knowledge of me, and presently the sound of retreating hoofs and the -echo of voices dying in the distance assured me I was left. - -Then, at that instant, a doubt of the man on whose compassion I had -thrown myself entered my mind. Plague-stricken, hopeless as I was, it -chilled me to the very heart; staying in a moment the feeble tears I was -about to shed, and curing even the vertigo, which forced me to clutch at -the straw on which I lay. Whether the thought arose from a sickly sense -of my own impotence, or was based on the fellow’s morose air and the -stealthy glances he continued to cast at me, I am as unable to say as I -am to decide whether it was well-founded, or the fruit of my own fancy. -Possibly the gloom of the room and the man’s surly words inclined me -to suspicion; possibly his secret thoughts portrayed themselves in his -hang-dog visage. Afterwards it appeared that he had stripped me, while -I lay, of everything of value; but he may have done this in the belief -that I should die. - -All I know is that I knew nothing certain, because the fear died almost -as soon as it was born. The man had scarcely seated himself again, or I -conceived the thought, when a second alarm outside caused him to spring -to his feet. Scowling and muttering as he went, he hurried to the -window. But before he reached it the door was dashed violently open, and -Simon Fleix stood in the entrance. - -There came in with him so blessed a rush of light and life as in a -moment dispelled the horror of the room, and stripped me at one and the -same time of fear and manhood. For whether I would or no, at sight of -the familiar face, which I had fled so lately, I burst into tears; and, -stretching out my hands to him, as a frightened child might have done, -called on him by name. I suppose the plague was by this time so plainly -written on my face that all who looked might read; for he stood at gaze, -staring at me, and was still so standing when a hand put him aside and -a slighter, smaller figure, pale-faced and hooded, stood for a moment -between me and the sunshine. It was mademoiselle! - -That, I thank God, restored me to myself, or I had been for ever shamed. -I cried to them with all the voice I had left to take her away; and -calling out frantically again and again that I had the plague and she -would die, I bade the man close the door. Nay, regaining something of -strength in my fear for her, I rose up, half-dressed as I was, and would -have fled into some corner to avoid her, still calling out to them to -take her away, to take her away--if a fresh paroxysm had not seized me, -so that I fell blind and helpless where I was. - -For a time after that I knew nothing; until someone held water to my -lips, and I drank greedily, and presently awoke to the fact that the -entrance was dark with faces and figures all gazing at me as I lay. But -I could not see her; and I had sense enough to know and be thankful that -she was no longer among them. I would fain have bidden Maignan to begone -too, for I read the consternation in his face. But I could not muster -strength or voice for the purpose, and when I turned my head to see -who held me--ah me! it comes back to me still in dreams--it was -mademoiselle’s hair that swept my forehead and her hand that ministered -to me; while tears she did not try to hide or wipe away fell on my hot -cheek. I could have pushed her away even then, for she was slight and -small; but the pains came upon me, and with a sob choking my voice I -lost all knowledge. - -I am told that I lay for more than a month between life and death, -now burning with fever and now in the cold fit; and that but for the -tendance which never failed nor faltered, nor could have been outdone -had my malady been the least infectious in the world. I must have died -a hundred times, as hundreds round me did die week by week in that year. -From the first they took me out of the house (where I think I should -have perished quickly, so impregnated was it with the plague poison) and -laid me under a screen of boughs in the forest, with a vast quantity of -cloaks and horse-cloths cunningly disposed to windward. Here I ran some -risk from cold and exposure and the fall of heavy dews; but, on the -other hand, had all the airs of heaven to clear away the humours and -expel the fever from my brain. - -Hence it was that when the first feeble beginnings of consciousness -awoke in me again, they and the light stole in on me through green -leaves, and overhanging boughs, and the freshness and verdure of the -spring woods. The sunshine which reached my watery eyes was softened by -its passage through great trees, which grew and expanded as I gazed -up into them, until each became a verdant world, with all a world’s -diversity of life. Grown tired of this, I had still long avenues -of shade, carpeted with flowers, to peer into; or a little wooded -bottom--where the ground fell away on one side--that blazed and burned -with redthorn. Ay, and hence it was that the first sounds I heard, when -the fever left me at last, and I knew morning from evening, and man from -woman, were the songs of birds calling to their mates. - -Mademoiselle and Madame de Bruhl, with Fanchette and Simon Fleix, lay -all this time in such shelter as could be raised for them where I lay; -M. Francois and three stout fellows, whom Maignan left to guard us -living in a hut within hail. Maignan himself, after seeing out a week of -my illness, had perforce returned to his master, and no news had since -been received from him. Thanks to the timely move into the woods, no -other of the party fell ill, and by the time I was able to stand and -speak the ravages of the disease had so greatly decreased that fear was -at an end. - -I should waste words were I to try to describe how the peace and -quietude of the life we led in the forest during the time of my recovery -sank into my heart; which had known, save by my mother’s bedside, little -of such joys. To awake in the morning to sweet sounds and scents, to eat -with reviving appetite and feel the slow growth of strength, to lie all -day in shade or sunshine as it pleased me, and hear women’s voices and -tinkling laughter, to have no thought of the world and no knowledge -of it, so that we might have been, for anything we saw, in another -sphere--these things might have sufficed for happiness without that -which added to each and every one of them a sweeter and deeper and more -lasting joy. Of which next. - -I had not begun to take notice long before I saw that M. Francois and -madame had come to an understanding; such an one, at least, as permitted -him to do all for her comfort and entertainment without committing -her to more than was becoming at such a season. Naturally this left -mademoiselle much in my company; a circumstance which would have -ripened into passion the affection I before entertained for her, had -not gratitude and a nearer observance of her merits already elevated my -regard into the most ardent worship that even the youngest lover ever -felt for his mistress. - -In proportion, however, as I and my love grew stronger, and -mademoiselle’s presence grew more necessary to my happiness--so that -were she away but an hour I fell a-moping--she began to draw off from -me, and absenting herself more and more on long walks in the woods, -by-and-by reduced me to such a pitch, of misery as bid fair to complete -what the fever had left undone. - -If this had happened in the world I think it likely that I should have -suffered in silence. But here, under the greenwood, in common enjoyment -of God’s air and earth, we seemed more nearly equal. She was scarce -better dressed, than a sutler’s wife; while recollections of her wealth -and station, though they assailed me nightly, lost much of their point -in presence of her youth and of that fair and patient gentleness which -forest life and the duties of a nurse had fostered. - -So it happened that one day, when she had been absent longer than usual, -I took my courage in my hand and went to meet her as far as the stream -which ran through the bottom by the redthorn. Here, at a place where -there were three stepping-stones, I waited for her; first taking away -the stepping-stones, that she might have to pause, and, being at a loss, -might be glad to see me. - -She came presently, tripping through an alley in the low wood, with her -eyes on the ground, and her whole carriage full of a sweet pensiveness -which it did me good to see. I turned my back on the stream before she -saw me, and made a pretence of being taken up with something in another -direction. Doubtless she espied me soon, and before she came very -near; but she made no sign until she reached the brink, and found the -stepping-stones were gone. - -Then, whether she suspected me or not, she called out to me, not once, -but several times. For, partly to tantalise her, as lovers will, and -partly because it charmed me to hear her use my name, I would not turn -at once. - -When I did, and discovered her standing with one small foot dallying -with the water, I cried out with well-affected concern; and in a great -hurry ran towards her, paying no attention to her chiding or the pettish -haughtiness with which she spoke to me. - -‘The stepping-stones are all on your side,’ she said imperiously. - -‘Who has moved them?’ - -I looked about without answering, and at last pretended to find them; -while she stood watching me, tapping the ground with one foot the while. -Despite her impatience, the stone which was nearest to her I took care -to bring last--that she might not cross without my assistance. But after -all she stepped over so lightly and quickly that the hand she placed -in mine seemed scarcely to rest there a second. Yet when she was over -I managed to retain it; nor did she resist, though her cheek, which had -been red before, turned crimson and her eyes fell, and bound to me by -the link of her little hand, she stood beside me with her whole figure -drooping. - -‘Mademoiselle,’ I said gravely, summoning all my resolution to my aid, -‘do you know of what that stream with its stepping-stones reminds me?’ - -She shook her head but did not answer. - -‘Of the stream which has flowed between us from the day when I first saw -you at St. Jean,’ said in a low voice. ‘It has flowed between us, and it -still does--separating us.’ - -‘What stream?’ she murmured, with her eyes cast down, and her foot -playing with the moss. ‘You speak in riddles, sir.’ - -‘You understand this one only too well, mademoiselle, ‘I answered. ‘Are -you not young and gay and beautiful, while I am old, or almost old, -and dull and grave? You are rich and well-thought-of at Court, and I a -soldier of fortune, not too successful. What did you think of me -when you first saw me at St. Jean? What when I came to Rosny? That, -mademoiselle,’ I continued with fervour, ‘is the stream which flows -between us and separates us; and I know of but one stepping-stone that -can bridge it.’ - -She looked aside, toying with a piece of thorn-blossom she had picked. -It was not redder than her cheeks. - -‘That one stepping-stone,’ I said, after waiting vainly for any word or -sign from her, ‘is Love. Many weeks ago, mademoiselle, when I had little -cause to like you, I loved you; I loved you whether I would or not, and -without thought or hope of return. I should have been mad had I spoken -to you then. Mad, and worse than mad. But now, now that I owe you my -life, now that I have drunk from your hand in fever, and, awaking early -and late, have found you by my pillow--now that, seeing you come in and -out in the midst of fear and hardship, I have learned to regard you as -a woman kind and gentle as my mother--now that I love you, so that to be -with you is joy, and away from you grief, is it presumption in me now, -mademoiselle, to think that that stream may be bridged?’ - -I stopped, out of breath, and saw that she was trembling. But she spoke -presently. ‘You said one stepping-stone?’ she murmured. - -‘Yes,’ I answered hoarsely, trying in vain to look at her face, which -she kept averted from me. - -‘There should be two,’ she said, almost in a whisper. ‘Your love, sir, -and--and mine. You have said much of the one, and nothing of the other. -In that you are wrong, for I am proud still. And I would not cross the -stream you speak of for any love of yours!’ - -‘Ah!’ I cried in sharpest pain. - -‘But,’ she continued, looking up at me on a sudden with eyes that told -me all, ‘because I love you I am willing to cross it--to cross it once -for ever, and to live beyond it all my life--if I may live my life with -you.’ - -I fell on my knee and kissed her hand again and again in a rapture of -joy and gratitude. By-and-by she pulled it from me. ‘If you will, sir,’ -she said, ‘you may kiss my lips. If you do not, no man ever will.’ - -After that, as may be guessed, we walked every day in the forest, making -longer and longer excursions as my strength came back to me, and the -nearer parts grew familiar. From early dawn, when I brought my love a -posy of flowers, to late evening, when Fanchette hurried her from me, -our days were passed in a long round of delight; being filled full of -all beautiful things--love, and sunshine, and rippling streams, and -green banks, on which we sat together under scented limes, telling one -another all we had ever thought, and especially all we had ever thought -of one another. Sometimes--when the light was low in the evening--we -spoke of my mother; and once--but that was in the sunshine, when the -bees were humming and my blood had begun to run strongly in my veins--I -spoke of my great and distant kinsman, Rohan. But mademoiselle would -hear nothing of him, murmuring again and again in my ear, ‘I have -crossed, my love, I have crossed.’ - -Truly the sands of that hour-glass were of gold. But in time they -ran out. First M. Francois, spurred by the restlessness of youth, and -convinced that madame would for a while yield no further, left us, and -went back to the world. Then news came of great events that could not -fail to move us. The King of France and the King of Navarre had met at -Tours, and embracing in the sight of an immense multitude, had repulsed -the League with slaughter in the suburb of St. Symphorien. Fast on this -followed the tidings of their march northwards with an overwhelming army -of fifty-thousand men of both religions, bent, rumour had it, on the -signal punishment of Paris. - -I grew--shame that I should say it--to think more and more of these -things; until mademoiselle, reading the signs, told me one day that we -must go. ‘Though never again,’ she added with a sigh, ‘shall we be so -happy.’ - -‘Then why go?’ I asked foolishly. - -‘Because you are a man,’ she answered with a wise smile, ‘as I would -have you be, and you need something besides love. To-morrow we will go.’ - -‘Whither?’ I said in amazement. - -‘To the camp before Paris,’ she answered. ‘We will go back in the light -of day--seeing that we have done nothing of which to be ashamed--and -throw ourselves on the justice of the King of Navarre. You shall place -me with Madame Catherine, who will not refuse to protect me; and -so, sweet, you will have only yourself to think of. Come, sir,’ she -continued, laying her little hand in mine, and looking into my eyes, -‘you are not afraid?’ - -‘I am more afraid than ever I used to be,’ I said trembling. - -‘So I would have it,’ she whispered, hiding her face on my shoulder. -‘Nevertheless we will go.’ - -And go we did. The audacity of such a return in the face of Turenne, -who was doubtless in the King of Navarre’s suite, almost took my breath -away; nevertheless, I saw that it possessed one advantage which no other -course promised--that, I mean, of setting us right in the eyes of the -world, and enabling me to meet in a straightforward manner such -as maligned us. After some consideration I gave my assent, merely -conditioning that until we reached the Court we should ride masked, and -shun as far as possible encounters by the road. - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. A TAVERN BRAWL. - -On the following day, accordingly, we started. But the news of the two -kings’ successes, and particularly the certainty which these had bred in -many minds that nothing short of a miracle could save Paris, had moved -so many gentlemen to take the road that we found the inns crowded beyond -example, and were frequently forced into meetings which made the task -of concealing our identity more difficult and hazardous than I had -expected. Sometimes shelter was not to be obtained on any terms, and -then we had to lie in the fields or in any convenient shed. Moreover, -the passage of the army had swept the country so bare both of food and -forage, that these commanded astonishing prices; and a long day’s ride -more than once brought us to our destination without securing for us the -ample meal we had earned, and required. - -Under these circumstances, it was with joy little short of transport -that I recognised the marvellous change which had come over my mistress. -Bearing all without a murmur, or a frown, or so much as one complaining -word, she acted on numberless occasions so as to convince me that she -spoke truly--albeit I scarcely dared to believe it--when she said that -she had but one trouble in the world, and that was the prospect of our -coming separation. - -For my part, and despite some gloomy moments, when fear of the future -overcame me, I rode in Paradise riding by my mistress. It was her -presence which glorified alike the first freshness of the morning, when -we started with all the day before us, and the coolness of the late -evening, when we rode hand-in-hand. Nor could I believe without an -effort that I was the same Gaston de Marsac who she had once spurned -and disdained. God knows I was thankful for her love. A thousand times, -thinking of my grey hairs, I asked her if she did not repent; and a -thousand times she answered No, with so much happiness in her eyes that -I was fain to thank God again and believe her. - -Notwithstanding the inconvenience of the practice, we made it a rule -to wear our masks whenever we appeared in public; and this rule me kept -more strictly as we approached Paris. It exposed us to some comment and -more curiosity, but led to no serious trouble until we reached Etampes, -twelve leagues from the capital; where we found the principal inn so -noisy and crowded, and so much disturbed by the constant coming and -going of couriers, that it required no experience to predicate the -neighbourhood of the army. The great courtyard seemed to be choked with -a confused mass of men and horses, through which we made our way with -difficulty. The windows of the house were all open, and offered us a -view of tables surrounded by men eating and drinking hastily, as the -manner of travellers is. The gateway and the steps of the house were -lined with troopers and servants and sturdy rogues; who scanned all who -passed in or out, and not unfrequently followed them with ribald jests -and nicknames. Songs and oaths, brawling and laughter, with the neighing -of horses and the huzzas of the beggars, who shouted whenever a fresh -party arrived, rose above all, and increased the reluctance with which I -assisted madame and mademoiselle to dismount. - -Simon was no match for such an occasion as this; but the stalwart aspect -of the three men whom Maignan had left with me commanded respect, and -attended by two of these I made a way for the ladies--not without some -opposition and a few oaths--to enter the house. The landlord, whom we -found crushed into a corner inside, and entirely overborne by the crowd -which had invaded his dwelling, assured me that he had not the smallest -garret he could place at my disposal; but I presently succeeded in -finding a small room at the top, which I purchased from the four men who -had taken possession of it. As it was impossible to get anything to -eat there, I left a man on guard, and myself descended with madame and -mademoiselle to the eating-room, a large chamber set with long boards, -and filled with a rough and noisy crew. Under a running fire of -observations we entered, and found with difficulty three seats in an -inner corner of the room. - -I ran my eye over the company, and noticed among them, besides a dozen -travelling parties like our own, specimens of all those classes which -are to be found in the rear of an army. There were some officers and -more horse-dealers; half a dozen forage-agents and a few priests; with a -large sprinkling of adventurers, braves, and led-captains, and here and -there two or three whose dress and the deference paid to them by their -neighbours seemed to indicate a higher rank. Conspicuous among these -last were a party of four who occupied a small table by the door. An -attempt had been made to secure some degree of privacy for them by -interposing a settle between them and the room; and their attendants, -who seemed to be numerous, did what they could to add to this by filling -the gap with their persons. One of the four, a man of handsome dress -and bearing, who sat in the place of honour, was masked, as we were. The -gentleman at his right hand I could not see. The others, whom I could -see, were strangers to me. - -Some time elapsed before our people succeeded in procuring us any food, -and during the interval we were exposed to an amount of comment on the -part of those round us which I found very little to my liking. There -were not half a dozen women present, and this and our masks rendered my -companions unpleasantly conspicuous. Aware, however, of the importance -of avoiding an altercation which might possibly detain us, and would -be certain to add to our notoriety, I remained quiet; and presently the -entrance of a tall, dark-complexioned man, who carried himself with -a peculiar swagger, and seemed to be famous for something or other, -diverted the attention of the company from us. - -The new-comer was somewhat of Maignan’s figure. He wore a back and -breast over a green doublet, and had an orange feather in his cap and an -orange-lined cloak on his shoulder. On entering he stood a moment in the -doorway, letting his bold black eyes rove round the room, the while he -talked in a loud braggart fashion to his companions. There was a lack of -breeding in the man’s air, and something offensive in his look; which I -noticed produced wherever it rested a momentary silence and constraint. -When he moved farther into the room I saw that he wore a very long -sword, the point of which trailed a foot behind him. - -He chose out for his first attentions the party of four whom I have -mentioned; going up to them and accosting them with a ruffling air, -directed especially to the gentleman in the mask. The latter lifted his -head haughtily on finding himself addressed by a stranger, but did not -offer to answer. Someone else did, however, for a sudden bellow like -that of an enraged bull proceeded from behind the settle. The words were -lost in noise, the unseen speaker’s anger seeming so overpowering that -he could not articulate; but the tone and voice, which were in some way -familiar to me, proved enough for the bully, who, covering his retreat -with a profound bow, backed out rapidly, muttering what was doubtless an -apology. Cocking his hat more fiercely to make up for this repulse, -he next proceeded to patrol the room, scowling from side to side as he -went, with the evident intention of picking a quarrel with someone less -formidable. - -By ill-chance his eye lit, as he turned, on our masks. He said something -to his companions; and encouraged, no doubt, by the position of -our seats at the board, which led him to think us people of small -consequence, he came to a stop opposite us. - -‘What! more dukes here?’ he cried scoffingly. ‘Hallo, you sir!’ he -continued to me, ‘will you not unmask and drink a glass with me?’ - -I thanked him civilly, but declined. - -His insolent eyes were busy, while I spoke, with madame’s fair hair and -handsome figure, which her mask failed to hide. ‘Perhaps the ladies will -have better taste, sir,’ he said rudely. ‘Will they not honour us with a -sight of their pretty faces?’ - -Knowing the importance of keeping my temper I put constraint on myself, -and answered, still with civility, that they were greatly fatigued and -were about to retire. - -‘Zounds!’ he cried, ‘that is not to be borne. If we are to lose them so -soon, the more reason we should enjoy their BEAUX YEUX while we can. -A short life and a merry one, sir. This is not a nunnery, nor, I dare -swear, are your fair friends nuns.’ - -Though I longed to chastise him for this insult, I feigned deafness, -and went on with my meal as if I had not heard him; and the table being -between us prevented him going beyond words. After he had uttered one or -two coarse jests of a similar character, which cost us less as we were -masked, and our emotions could only be guessed, the crowd about us, -seeing I took the thing quietly, began to applaud him; but more as it -seemed to me out of fear than love. In this opinion I was presently -confirmed on hearing from Simon who whispered the information in my -ear as he handed a dish--that the fellow was an Italian captain in the -king’s pay, famous for his skill with the sword and the many duels in -which he had displayed it. - -Mademoiselle, though she did not know this, bore with his insolence with -a patience which astonished me; while madame appeared unconscious of it. -Nevertheless, I was glad when he retired and left us in peace. I seized -the moment of his absence to escort the ladies through the room and -upstairs to their apartment, the door of which I saw locked and secured. -That done I breathed more freely; and feeling thankful that I had been -able to keep my temper, took the episode to be at an end. - -But in this I was mistaken, as I found when I returned to the room in -which we had supped, my intention being to go through it to the stables. -I had not taken two paces across the floor before I found my road -blocked by the Italian, and read alike in his eyes and in the faces -of the company--of whom many hastened to climb the tables to see what -passed--that the meeting was premeditated. The man’s face was flushed -with wine; proud of his many victories, he eyed me with a boastful -contempt my patience had perhaps given him the right to feel. - -‘Ha! well met, sir,’ he said, sweeping the floor with his cap in an -exaggeration of respect, ‘now, perhaps, your high-mightiness will -condescend to unmask? The table is no longer between us, nor are your -fair friends here to protect their CHER AMI!’ - -‘If I still refuse, sir,’ I said civilly, wavering between anger and -prudence, and hoping still to avoid a quarrel which might endanger -us all, ‘be good enough to attribute it to private motives, and to no -desire to disoblige you.’ - -‘No, I do not think you wish to disoblige me,’ he answered, laughing -scornfully--and a dozen voices echoed the gibe. ‘But for your private -motives, the devil take them! Is that plain enough, sir?’ - -‘It is plain enough to show me that you are an ill-bred man!’ I -answered, choler getting the better of me. ‘Let me pass, sir.’ - -‘Unmask!’ he retorted, moving so as still to detain me, ‘or shall I call -in the grooms to perform the office for you?’ - -Seeing at last that all my attempts to evade the man only fed his -vanity, and encouraged him to further excesses, and that the motley -crowd, who filled the room and already formed a circle round us, had -made up their minds to see sport, I would no longer balk them; I could -no longer do it, indeed, with honour. I looked round, therefore, for -someone whom I might enlist as my second, but I saw no one with whom -I had the least acquaintance. The room was lined from table to ceiling -with mocking faces and scornful eyes all turned to me. - -My opponent saw the look, and misread it; being much accustomed, I -imagine, to a one-sided battle. He laughed contemptuously. ‘No, my -friend, there is no way out of it,’ he said. ‘Let me see your pretty -face, or fight.’ - -‘So be it,’ I said quietly. ‘If I have no other choice, I will fight.’ - -‘In your mask?’ he cried incredulously. - -‘Yes,’ I said sternly, feeling every nerve tingle with long-suppressed -rage. ‘I will fight as I am. Off with your back and breast, if you are -a man. And I will so deal with you that if you see to-morrow’s sun you -shall need a mask for the rest of your days!’ - -‘Ho! ho!’ he answered, scowling at me in surprise, ‘you sing in a -different key now. But I will put a term to it. There is space enough -between these tables, if you can use your weapon; and much more than you -will need to-morrow.’ - -‘To-morrow will show,’ I retorted. - -Without more ado he unfastened the buckles of his breast-piece, and -relieving himself of it, stepped back a pace. Those of the bystanders -who occupied the part of the room he indicated--a space bounded by -four tables, and not unfit for the purpose, though somewhat -confined--hastened to get out of it, and seize instead upon neighbouring -posts of ‘vantage. The man’s reputation was such, and his fame so great, -that on all sides I heard naught but wagers offered against me at odds; -but this circumstance, which might have flurried a younger man and -numbed his arm, served only to set me on making the most of such -openings as the fellow’s presumption and certainty of success would be -sure to afford. - -The news of the challenge running through the house had brought together -by this time so many people as to fill the room from end to end, and -even to obscure the light, which was beginning to wane. At the last -moment, when we were on the point of engaging, a slight commotion marked -the admission to the front of three or four persons, whose consequence -or attendants gained them this advantage. I believed them to be the -party of four I have mentioned, but at the time I could not be certain. - -In the few seconds of waiting while this went forward I examined our -relative positions with the fullest intention of killing the man--whose -glittering eyes and fierce smile filled me with a loathing which was -very nearly hatred--if I could. The line of windows lay to my right and -his left. The evening light fell across us, whitening the row of faces -on my left, but leaving those on my right in shadow. It occurred to me -on the instant that my mask was actually an advantage, seeing that it -protected my sight from the side-light, and enabled me to watch his eyes -and point with more concentration. - -‘You will be the twenty-third man I have killed!’ he said boastfully, as -we crossed swords and stood an instant on guard. - -‘Take care!’ I answered. ‘You have twenty-three against you!’ - -A swift lunge was his only answer. I parried it, and thrust, and we fell -to work. We had not exchanged half a dozen blows, however, before I saw -that I should need all the advantage which my mask and greater caution -gave me. I had met my match, and it might be something more; but that -for a time it was impossible to tell. He had the longer weapon, and I -the longer reach. He preferred the point, after the new Italian fashion, -and I the blade. He was somewhat flushed with wine, while my arm had -scarcely recovered the strength of which illness had deprived me. - -On the other hand, excited at the first by the cries of his backers, -he played rather wildly; while I held myself prepared, and keeping up a -strong guard, waited cautiously for any opening or mistake on his part. - -The crowd round us, which had hailed our first passes with noisy cries -of derision and triumph, fell silent after a while, surprised and taken -aback by their champion’s failure to spit me at the first onslaught. My -reluctance to engage had led them to predict a short fight and an easy -victory. - -Convinced of the contrary, they began to watch each stroke with bated -breath; or now and again, muttering the name of Jarnac, broke into -brief exclamations as a blow more savage than usual drew sparks from our -blades, and made the rafters ring with the harsh grinding of steel on -steel. - -The surprise of the crowd, however, was a small thing compared with that -of my adversary. Impatience, disgust, rage and doubt chased one another -in turn across his flushed features. Apprised that he had to do with -a swordsman, he put forth all his power. With spite in his eyes he -laboured blow on blow, he tried one form of attack after another, he -found me equal, if barely equal, to all. And then at last there came a -change. The perspiration gathered on his brow, the silence disconcerted -him; he felt his strength failing under the strain, and suddenly, I -think, the possibility of defeat and death, unthought of before, burst -upon him. I heard him groan, and for a moment he fenced wildly. Then -he again recovered himself. But now I read terror in his eyes, and knew -that the moment of retribution was at hand. With his back to the table, -and my point threatening his breast, he knew at last what those others -had felt! - -He would fain have stopped to breathe, but I would not let him though my -blows also were growing feeble, and my guard weaker; for I knew that -if I gave him time to recover himself he would have recourse to other -tricks, and might out-manoeuvre me in the end. As it was, my black -unchanging mask, which always confronted him, which hid all emotions -and veiled even fatigue, had grown to be full of terror to him--full -of blank, passionless menace. He could not tell how I fared, or what I -thought, or how my strength stood. Superstitious dread was on him, and -threatened, to overpower him. Ignorant who I was or whence I came, -he feared and doubted, grappling with monstrous suspicions, which the -fading light encouraged. His face broke out in blotches, his breath -came and went in gasps, his eyes began to protrude. Once or twice they -quitted mine for a part of a second to steal a despairing glance at the -rows of onlookers that ran to right and left of us. But he read no pity -there. - -At last the end came--more suddenly than I had looked for it, but I -think he was unnerved. His hand lost its grip of the hilt, and a parry -which I dealt a little more briskly than usual sent the weapon -flying among the crowd, as much to my astonishment as to that of the -spectators. A volley of oaths and exclamations hailed the event; and for -a moment I stood at gaze, eyeing him watchfully. He shrank back; then he -made for a moment as if he would fling himself upon me dagger in -hand. But seeing my point steady, he recoiled a second time, his face -distorted with rage and fear. - -‘Go!’ I said sternly. ‘Begone! Follow your sword! But spare the next man -you conquer.’ - -He stared at me, fingering his dagger as if he did not understand, or -as if in the bitterness of his shame at being so defeated even life were -unwelcome. I was about to repeat my words when a heavy hand fell on my -shoulder. - -‘Fool!’ a harsh growling voice muttered in my ear. ‘Do you want him to -serve you as Achon served Matas? This is the way to deal with him.’ - -And before I knew who spoke or what to expect a man vaulted over the -table beside me. Seizing the Italian by the neck and waist, he flung him -bodily--without paying the least regard to his dagger--into the crowd. -‘There!’ the new-comer cried, stretching his arms as if the effort had -relieved him, ‘so much for him! And do you breathe yourself. Breathe -yourself, my friend,’ he continued with a vain-glorious air of -generosity. ‘When you are rested and ready, you and I will have a bout. -Mon dieu! what a thing it is to see a man! And by my faith you are a -man!’ - -‘But, sir,’ I said, staring at him in the utmost bewilderment, ‘we have -no quarrel.’ - -‘Quarrel?’ he cried in his loud, ringing voice. ‘Heaven forbid! Why -should we? I love a man, however, and when I see one I say to him, “I am -Crillon! Fight me!” But I see you are not yet rested. Patience! There is -no hurry. Berthon de Crillon is proud to wait your convenience. In the -meantime, gentlemen,’ he continued, turning with a grand air to the -spectators, who viewed this sudden BOULEVERSEMENT with unbounded -surprise, ‘let us do what we can. Take the word from me, and cry all, -“VIVE LE ROI, ET VIVE L’INCONNU!”’ - -Like people awaking from a dream--so great was their astonishment the -company complied and with the utmost heartiness. When the shout died -away, someone cried in turn, ‘Vive Crillon!’ and this was honoured with -a fervour which brought the tears to the eyes of that remarkable man, -in whom bombast was so strangely combined with the firmest and most -reckless courage. He bowed again and again, turning himself about in the -small space between the tables, while his face shone with pleasure and -enthusiasm. Meanwhile I viewed him with perplexity. I comprehended that -it was his voice I had heard behind the settle; but I had neither the -desire to fight him nor so great a reserve of strength after my illness -as to be able to enter on a fresh contest with equanimity. When he -turned to me, therefore, and again asked, ‘Well, sir, are you ready?’ -I could think of no better answer than that I had already made to him, -‘But, sir, I have no quarrel with you.’ - -‘Tut, tut!’ he answered querulously, ‘if that is all, let us engage.’ - -‘That is not all, however,’ I said, resolutely putting up my sword. ‘I -have not only no quarrel with M. de Crillon, but I received at his hands -when I last saw him a considerable service.’ - -‘Then now is the time to return it,’ he answered briskly, and as if -that settled the matter. - -I could not refrain from laughing. ‘Nay, but I have still an excuse,’ -I said. ‘I am barely recovered from an illness, and am weak. Even so, -I should be loth to decline a combat with some; but a better man than I -may give the wall to M. de Crillon and suffer no disgrace.’ - -‘Oh, if you put it that way--enough said,’ he answered in a tone of -disappointment. ‘And, to be sure, the light is almost gone. That is a -comfort. But you will not refuse to drink a cup of wine with me? Your -voice I remember, though I cannot say who you are or what service I did -you. For the future, however, count on me. I love a man who is brave as -well as modest, and know no better friend than a stout swordsman.’ - -I was answering him in fitting terms--while the fickle crowd, which a -few minutes earlier had been ready to tear me, viewed us from a distance -with respectful homage--when the masked gentleman who had before been in -his company drew near and saluted me with much stateliness. - -‘I congratulate you, sir,’ he said, in the easy tone of a great man -condescending. ‘You use the sword as few use it, and fight with your -head as well as your hands. Should you need a friend or employment, -you will honour me by remembering that you are known to the Vicomte de -Turenne.’ - -I bowed low to hide the start which the mention of his name caused -me. For had I tried, ay, and possessed to aid me all the wit of M. -de Brantome, I could have imagined nothing more fantastic than this -meeting; or more entertaining than that I, masked, should talk with the -Vicomte de Turenne masked, and hear in place of reproaches and threats -of vengeance a civil offer of protection. Scarcely knowing whether I -should laugh or tremble, or which should occupy me more, the diverting -thing that had happened or the peril we had barely escaped, I made shift -to answer him, craving his indulgence if I still preserved my incognito. -Even while I spoke a fresh fear assailed me: lest M. de Crillon, -recognising my voice or figure, should cry my name on the spot, and -explode in a moment the mine on which we stood. - -This rendered me extremely impatient to be gone. But M. le Vicomte -had still something to say, and I could not withdraw myself without -rudeness. - -‘You are travelling north like everyone else?’ he said, gazing at me -curiously. ‘May I ask whether you are for Meudon, where the King of -Navarre lies, or for the Court at St. Cloud?’ - -I muttered, moving restlessly under his keen eyes, that I was for -Meudon. - -‘Then, if you care to travel with a larger company,’ he rejoined, bowing -with negligent courtesy, ‘pray command me. I am for Meudon also, and -shall leave here three hours before noon.’ - -Fortunately he took my assent to his gracious invitation for granted, -and turned away before I had well begun to thank him. From Crillon I -found it more difficult to escape. He appeared to have conceived a -great fancy for me, and felt also, I imagine, some curiosity as to -my identity. But I did even this at last, and, evading the obsequious -offers which were made me on all sides, escaped to the stables, where -I sought out the Cid’s stall, and lying down in the straw beside him, -began to review the past, and plan the future. Under cover of the -darkness sleep soon came to me; my last waking thoughts being divided -between thankfulness for my escape and a steady purpose to reach Meudon -before the Vicomte, so that I might make good my tale in his absence. -For that seemed to be my only chance of evading the dangers I had chosen -to encounter. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. AT MEUDON. - -Making so early a start from Etampes that the inn, which had continued -in an uproar till long after midnight, lay sunk in sleep when we rode -out of the yard, we reached Meudon about noon next day. I should be -tedious were I to detail what thoughts my mistress and I had during that -day’s journey--the last, it might be, which we should take together; -or what assurances we gave one another, or how often we, repented the -impatience which had impelled us to put all to the touch. Madame, with -kindly forethought, detached herself from us, and rode the greater part -of the distance with Fanchette; but the opportunities she gave us -went for little; for, to be plain, the separation we dreaded seemed to -overshadow us already. We uttered few words, through those few were to -the purpose, but riding hand-in-hand, with full hearts, and eyes which -seldom quitted one another, looked forward to Meudon and its perils -with such gloomy forebodings as our love and my precarious position -suggested. - -Long before we reached the town, or could see more of it than the -Chateau, over which the Lilies of France and the broad white banner -of the Bourbons floated in company, we found ourselves swept into the -whirlpool which surrounds an army. Crowds stood at all the cross-roads, -wagons and sumpter-mules encumbered the bridges; each moment a horseman -passed us at a gallop, or a troop of disorderly rogues, soldiers only in -name, reeled, shouting and singing, along the road. Here and there, for -a warning to the latter sort, a man, dangled on a rude gallows; under -which sportsmen returning from the chase and ladies who had been for an -airing rode laughing on their way. - -Amid the multitude entering the town we passed unnoticed. A little way -within the walls we halted to inquire where the Princess of Navarre had -her lodging. Hearing that she occupied a house in the town, while her -brother had his quarters in the Chateau, and the King of France at St. -Cloud, I stayed my party in a by-road, a hundred paces farther on, and, -springing from the Cid, went to my mistress’s knee. - -‘Mademoiselle,’ I said formally, and so loudly that all my men might -hear, ‘the time is come. I dare not go farther with you. I beg you, -therefore, to bear me witness that as I took you so I have brought you -back, and both with your good-will. I beg that you will give me this -quittance, for it may serve me.’ - -She bowed her head and laid her ungloved hand on mine, which I had -placed on, the pommel of her saddle. ‘Sir,’ she answered in a broken -voice, ‘I will not give you this quittance, nor any quittance from me -while I live.’ With that she took off her mask before them all, and I -saw the tears running down her white face. ‘May God protect you, M. de -Marsac,’ she continued, stooping until her face almost touched mine, -‘and bring you to the thing you desire. If not, sir, and you pay too -dearly for what you have done for me, I will live a maiden all my days. -And, if I do not, these men may shame me!’ - -My heart was too full for words, but I took the glove she held out to -me, and kissed her hand with my knee bent. Then I waved--for I could not -speak--to madame to proceed; and with Simon Fleix and Maignan’s men to -guard them they went on their way. Mademoiselle’s white face looked back -to me until a bend in the road hid them, and I saw them no more. - -I turned when all were gone, and going heavily to where my Sard stood -with his head drooping, I climbed to the saddle, and rode at a foot-pace -towards the Chateau. The way was short and easy, for the next turning -showed me the open gateway and a crowd about it. A vast number of people -were entering and leaving, while others rested in the shade of the wall, -and a dozen grooms led horses up and down. The sunshine fell hotly on -the road and the courtyard, and flashed back by the cuirasses of the -men on guard, seized the eye and dazzled it with gleams of infinite -brightness. I was advancing alone, gazing at all this with a species -of dull indifference which masked for the moment the suspense I felt at -heart, when a man, coming on foot along the street, crossed quickly to -me and looked me in the face. - -I returned his look, and seeing he was a stranger to me, was for passing -on without pausing. But he wheeled beside me and uttered my name in a -low voice. - -I checked the Cid and looked down at him. ‘Yes,’ I said mechanically, ‘I -am M. de Marsac. But I do not know you.’ - -‘Nevertheless I have been watching for you for three days,’ he replied. -‘M. de Rosny received your message. This is for you.’ - -He handed me a scrap of paper. ‘From whom?’ I asked. - -‘Maignan,’ he answered briefly. And with that, and a stealthy look -round, he left me, and went the way he had been going before. - -I tore open the note, and knowing that Maignan could not write, was -not surprised to find that it lacked any signature. The brevity of its -contents vied with the curtness of its bearer. ‘In Heaven’s name go back -and wait,’ it ran. ‘Your enemy is here, and those who wish you well are -powerless.’ - -A warning so explicit, and delivered under such circumstances, might -have been expected to make me pause even then. But I read the message -with the same dull indifference, the same dogged resolve with which the -sight of the crowded gateway before me had inspired me. I had not come -so far and baffled Turenne by an hour to fail in my purpose at the last; -nor given such pledges to another to prove false to myself. Moreover, -the distant rattle of musketry, which went to show that a skirmish was -taking place on the farther side of the Castle, seemed an invitation to -me to proceed; for now, if ever, my sword might earn protection and a -pardon. Only in regard to M. de Rosny, from whom I had no doubt that the -message came, I resolved to act with prudence; neither making any appeal -to him in public nor mentioning his name to others in private. - -The Cid had borne me by this time into the middle of the throng about -the gateway, who, wondering to see a stranger of my appearance arrive -without attendants, eyed me with a mixture of civility and forwardness. -I recognised more than one man whom I had seen about the Court at St. -Jean d’Angely six months before; but so great is the disguising power of -handsome clothes and equipments that none of these knew me. I beckoned -to the nearest, and asked him if the King of Navarre was in the Chateau. - -‘He has gone to see the King of France at St. Cloud,’ the man answered, -with something of wonder that anyone should be ignorant of so important -a fact. ‘He is expected here in an hour.’ - -I thanked him, and calculating that I should still have time and to -spare before the arrival of M. de Turenne, I dismounted, and taking the -rein over my arm, began to walk up and down in the shade of the wall. -Meanwhile the loiterers increased in numbers as the minutes passed. Men -of better standing rode up, and, leaving their horses in charge of their -lackeys, went into the Chateau. Officers in shining corslets, or with -boots and scabbards dulled with dust, arrived and clattered in through -the gates. A messenger galloped up with letters, and was instantly -surrounded by a curious throng of questioners; who left him only to -gather about the next comers, a knot of townsfolk, whose downcast -visages and glances of apprehension seemed to betoken no pleasant or -easy mission. - -Watching many of these enter and disappear, while only the humbler -sort remained to swell the crowd at the gate, I began to experience the -discomfort and impatience which are the lot of the man who finds himself -placed in a false position. I foresaw with clearness the injury I was -about to do my cause by presenting myself to the king among the common -herd; and yet I had no choice save to do this, for I dared not run the -risk of entering, lest I should be required to give my name, and fail to -see the King of Navarre at all. - -As it was I came very near to being foiled in this way; for I presently -recognised, and was recognised in turn, by a gentleman who rode up to -the gates and, throwing his reins to a groom, dismounted with an air -of immense gravity. This was M. Forget, the king’s secretary, and the -person to whom I had on a former occasion presented a petition. He -looked at me with eyes of profound astonishment, and saluting me stiffly -from a distance, seemed in two minds whether he should pass in or -speak to me. On second thoughts, however, he came towards me, and again -saluted me with a peculiarly dry and austere aspect. - -‘I believe, sir, I am speaking to M. de Marsac?’ he said in a low voice, -but not impolitely. - -I replied in the affirmative. - -‘And that, I conclude, is your horse?’ he continued, raising his cane, -and pointing to the Cid, which I had fastened to a hook in the wall. - -I replied again in the affirmative. - -‘Then take a word of advice,’ he answered, screwing up his features, and -speaking in a dry sort of way. ‘Get upon its back without an instant’s -delay, and put as many leagues between yourself and Meudon as horse and -man may.’ - -‘I am obliged to you,’ I said, though I was greatly startled by his -words. ‘And what if I do not take your advice?’ - -He shrugged his shoulders. ‘In that case look to yourself!’ he retorted. -‘But you will look in vain!’ - -He turned on his heel, as he spoke, and in a moment was gone. I watched -him enter the Chateau, and in the uncertainty which possessed me whether -he was not gone--after salving his conscience by giving me warning--to -order my instant arrest, I felt, and I doubt not I looked, as ill at -ease for the time being as the group of trembling townsfolk who stood -near me. Reflecting that he should know his master’s mind, I recalled -with depressing clearness the repeated warnings the King of Navarre -had given me that I must not look to him for reward or protection. I -bethought me that I was here against his express orders: presuming on -those very services which he had given me notice he should repudiate. -I remembered that Rosny had always been in the same tale. And en fin -I began to see that mademoiselle and I had together decided on a step -which I should never have presumed to take on my own motion. - -I had barely arrived at this conclusion when the trampling of hoofs and -a sudden closing in of the crowd round the gate announced the King of -Navarre’s approach. With a sick heart I drew nearer, feeling that the -crisis was at hand; and in a moment he came in sight, riding beside an -elderly man, plainly dressed and mounted, with whom he was carrying on -an earnest conversation. A train of nobles and gentlemen, whose martial -air and equipments made up for the absence of the gewgaws and glitter, -to which my eyes had become accustomed at Blois, followed close on his -heels. Henry himself wore a suit of white velvet, frayed in places -and soiled by his armour; but his quick eye and eager, almost fierce, -countenance could not fail to win and keep the attention of the least -observant. He kept glancing from side to side as he came on; and that -with so cheerful an air and a carriage so full at once of dignity and -good-humour that no one could look on him and fail to see that here was -a leader and a prince of men, temperate in victory and unsurpassed in -defeat. - -The crowd raising a cry of ‘VIVE NAVARRE!’ as he drew near, he bowed, -with a sparkle in his eye. But when a few by the gate cried ‘VIVENT LES -ROIS!’ he held up his hand for silence, and said in a loud, clear voice, -‘Not that, my friends. There is but one king in France. Let us say -instead, “Vive le Roi!”’ - -The spokesman of the little group of townsfolk, who, I learned, were -from Arcueil, and had come to complain of the excessive number of troops -quartered upon them, took advantage of the pause to approach him. Henry -received the old man with a kindly look, and bent from his saddle to -hear what he had to say. While they were talking I pressed forward, the -emotion I felt on my own account heightened by my recognition of the man -who rode by the King of Navarre--who was no other than M. de la Noue. No -Huguenot worthy of the name could look on the veteran who had done -and suffered more for the cause than any living man without catching -something of his stern enthusiasm; and the sight, while it shamed -me, who a moment before had been inclined to prefer my safety to the -assistance I owed my country, gave me courage to step to the king’s -rein, so that I heard his last words to the men of Arcueil. - -‘Patience, my friends,’ he said kindly. ‘The burden is heavy, but the -journey is a short one. The Seine is ours; the circle is complete. In a -week Paris must surrender. The king, my cousin, will enter, and you will -be rid of us. For France’s sake one week, my friends.’ - -The men fell back with low obeisances, charmed by his good-nature, and -Henry, looking up, saw me before him. In the instant his jaw fell. His -brow, suddenly contracting above eyes, which flashed with surprise and -displeasure, altered in a moment the whole aspect of his face; which -grew dark and stern as night. His first impulse was to pass by me; but -seeing that I held my ground, he hesitated, so completely chagrined by -my appearance that he did not know how to act, or in what way to deal -with me. I seized the occasion, and bending my knee with as much respect -as I had ever used to the King of France, begged to bring myself to his -notice, and to crave his protection and favour. - -‘This is no time to trouble me, sir,’ he retorted, eyeing me with an -angry side-glance. ‘I do not know you. You are unknown to me, sir. You -must go to M. de Rosny.’ - -‘It would be useless sire,’ I answered, in desperate persistence. - -‘Then I can do nothing for you,’ he rejoined peevishly. ‘Stand on one -side, sir.’ - -But I was desperate. I knew that I had risked all on the event, and must -establish my footing before M. de Turenne’s return, or run the risk -of certain recognition and vengeance. I cried out, caring nothing who -heard, that I was M. de Marsac, that I had come back to meet whatever my -enemies could allege against me. - -‘VENTRE SAINT GRIS!’ Henry exclaimed, starting in his saddle with -well-feigned surprise. ‘Are you that man?’ - -‘I am, sire,’ I answered. - -‘Then you must be mad!’ he retorted, appealing to those behind him. -‘Stark, staring mad to show your face here! ‘VENTRE SAINT GRIS! Are we -to have all the ravishers and plunderers in the country come to us?’ - -‘I am neither the one nor the other!’ I answered, looking with -indignation from him to the gaping train behind him. - -‘That you will have to settle with M. de Turenne!’ he retorted, frowning -down at me with his whole face turned gloomy and fierce. ‘I know you -well, sir, now. Complaint has been made that you abducted a lady from -his Castle of Chize some time back.’ - -‘The lady, sire, is now in charge of the Princess of Navarre.’ - -‘She is?’ he exclaimed, quite taken aback. - -‘And if she has aught of complaint against me,’ I continued with pride,’ -I will submit to whatever punishment you order or M. de Turenne demands. -But if she has no complaint to make, and vows that she accompanied me -of her own free-will and accord, and has suffered neither wrong nor -displeasure at my hands, then, sire, I claim that this is a private -matter between myself and M. de Turenne.’ - -‘Even so I think you will have your hands full,’ he answered grimly. -At the same time he stopped by a gesture those who would have cried out -upon me, and looked at me himself with an altered countenance. ‘Do I -understand that you assert that the lady went of her own accord?’ he -asked. - -‘She went and has returned, sire,’ I answered. - -‘Strange!’ he ejaculated. ‘Have you married her?’ - -‘No, sire,’ I answered. ‘I desire leave to do so.’ - -‘Mon dieu! she is M. de Turenne’s ward,’ he rejoined, almost dumbfounded -by my audacity. - -‘I do not despair of obtaining his assent, sire,’ I said patiently. - -‘SAINT GRIS! the man is mad!’ he cried, wheeling his horse and facing -his train with a gesture of the utmost wonder. ‘It is the strangest -story I ever heard.’ - -‘But somewhat more to the gentleman’s credit than the lady’s!’ one said -with a smirk and a smile. - -‘A lie!’ I cried, springing forward on the instant with a boldness which -astonished myself. ‘She is as pure as your Highness’s sister! I swear -it. That man lies in his teeth, and I will maintain it.’ - -‘Sir!’ the King of Navarre cried, turning on me with the utmost -sternness, ‘you forget yourself in my presence! Silence, and beware -another time how you let your tongue run on those above you. You have -enough trouble, let me tell you, on your hands already.’ - -‘Yet the man lies!’ I answered doggedly, remembering Crillon and his -ways. ‘And if he will do me the honour of stepping aside with me, I will -convince him of it!’ - -‘VENTRE SAINT GRIS!’ Henry replied, frowning, and dwelling on each -syllable of his favourite oath. ‘Will you be silent, sir, and let me -think? Or must I order your instant arrest?’ - -‘Surely that at least, sire,’ a suave voice interjected. And with that -a gentleman pressed forward from the rest, and gaining a place, of -‘vantage by the King’s side, shot at me a look of extreme malevolence. -‘My lord of Turenne will expect no less at your Highness’s hands,’ he -continued warmly. ‘I beg you will give the order on the spot, and hold -this person to answer for his misdeeds. M. de Turenne returns to-day. -He should be here now. I say again, sire, he will expect no less than -this.’ - -The king, gazing at me with gloomy eyes, tugged at his moustaches. -Someone had motioned the common herd to stand back out of hearing; -at the same time the suite had moved up out of curiosity and formed a -half-circle; in the midst of which I stood fronting the king, who had -La Noue and the last speaker on either hand. Perplexity and annoyance -struggled for the mastery in his face as he looked darkly down at -me, his teeth showing through his beard. Profoundly angered by my -appearance, which he had taken at first to be the prelude to disclosures -which must detach Turenne at a time when union was all-important, he -had now ceased to fear for himself; and perhaps saw something in the -attitude I adopted which appealed to his nature and sympathies. - -‘If the girl is really back,’ he said at last, ‘M. d’Aremburg, I do-not -see any reason why I should interfere. At present, at any rate.’ - -‘I think, sire, M. de Turenne will see reason,’ the gentleman answered -drily. - -The king coloured. ‘M. de Turenne,’ he began-- - -‘Has made many sacrifices at your request, sire,’ the other said with -meaning. ‘And buried some wrongs, or fancied wrongs, in connection with -this very matter. This person has outraged him in the grossest manner, -and in M. le Vicomte’s name I ask, nay I press upon you, that he be -instantly arrested, and held to answer for it.’ - -‘I am ready to answer for it now!’ I retorted, looking from face to face -for sympathy, and finding none save in M. de la Noue’s, who appeared -to regard me with grave approbation. ‘To the Vicomte de Turenne, or the -person he may appoint to represent him.’ - -‘Enough!’ Henry said, raising his hand and speaking in the tone of -authority he knew so well how to adopt. ‘For you, M. d’Aremburg, I thank -you. Turenne is happy in his friend. But; this gentleman came to me of -his own free will and I do not think it consistent with my honour to -detain him without warning given. I grant him an hour to remove himself -from my neighbourhood. If he be found after that time has elapsed,’ he -continued solemnly, ‘his fate be on his own head. Gentlemen, we are late -already. Let us on.’ - -I looked at him as he pronounced this sentence, and strove to find words -in which to make a final appeal to him. But no words came; and when he -bade me stand aside, I did so mechanically, remaining with my head bared -to the sunshine while the troop rode by. Some looked back at me with -curiosity, as at a man of whom they had heard a tale, and some with a -jeer on their lips; a few with dark looks of menace. When they were all -gone, and the servants who followed them had disappeared also, and I was -left to the inquisitive glances of the rabble who stood gaping after the -sight, I turned and went to the Cid, and loosed the horse with a feeling -of bitter disappointment. - -The plan which mademoiselle had proposed and I had adopted in the forest -by St. Gaultier--when it seemed to us that our long absence and the -great events of which we heard must have changed the world and opened a -path for our return--had failed utterly. Things were as they had been; -the strong were still strong, and friendship under bond to fear. Plainly -we should have shewn ourselves wiser had we taken the lowlier course, -and, obeying the warnings given us, waited the King of Navarre’s -pleasure or the tardy recollection of Rosny. I had not then stood, as I -now stood, in instant jeopardy, nor felt the keen pangs of a separation -which bade fair to be lasting. She was safe, and that was much; but I, -after long service and brief happiness, must go out again alone, with -only memories to comfort me. - -It was Simon Fleix’s voice which awakened me from this unworthy -lethargy--as selfish as it was useless--and, recalling me to myself, -reminded me that precious time was passing while I stood inactive. To -get at me he had forced his way through the curious crowd, and his face -was flushed. He plucked me by the sleeve, regarding the varlets round -him with a mixture of anger and fear. - -‘Nom de Dieu! do they take you for a rope-dancer?’ he muttered in my -ear. ‘Mount, sir, and come. There is not a moment to be lost.’ - -‘You left her at Madame Catherine’s?’ I said. - -‘To be sure,’ he answered impatiently. ‘Trouble not about her. Save -yourself, M. de Marsac. That is the thing to be done now.’ - -I mounted mechanically, and felt my courage return as the horse moved -under me. I trotted through the crowd, and without thought took the road -by which we had come. When we had ridden a hundred yards, however, I -pulled up ‘An hour is a short start,’ I said sullenly. ‘Whither?’ - -‘To St. Cloud,’ he answered promptly. ‘The protection of the King of -France may avail for a day or two. After that, there will still be the -League, if Paris have not fallen.’ - -I saw there was nothing else for it, and assented, and we set off. The -distance which separates Meudon from St. Cloud we might have ridden -under the hour, but the direct road runs across the Scholars’ Meadow, -a wide plain north of Meudon. This lay exposed to the enemy’s fire, and -was, besides, the scene of hourly conflicts between the horse of both -parties, so that to cross it without an adequate force was impossible. -Driven to make a circuit, we took longer to reach our destination, yet -did so without mishap; finding the little town, when we came in sight -of it, given up to all the bustle and commotion which properly belong to -the Court and camp. - -It was, indeed, as full as it could be, for the surrender of Paris being -momentarily expected, St. Cloud had become the rendezvous as well of -the few who had long followed a principle as of the many who wait -upon success. The streets, crowded in, every part, shone with glancing -colours, with steel and velvet, the garb of fashion and the plumes of -war. Long lines of flags obscured the eaves and broke the sunshine, -while, above all, the bells of half a dozen churches rang merry answer -to the distant crash of guns. Everywhere on flag and arch and streamer -I read the motto, ‘Vive le Roi!’--words written, God knew then, and we -know now, in what a mockery of doom! - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. ‘’TIS AN ILL WIND.’ - -We had made our way slowly and with much jostling as far as the -principal street, finding the press increase as we advanced, when I -heard, as I turned a corner, my name called, and, looking up, saw at -a window the face of which I was in search. After that half a minute -sufficed to bring M. d’Agen flying to my side, when nothing, as I -had expected, would do but I must dismount where I was and share his -lodging. He made no secret of his joy and surprise at sight of me, but -pausing only to tell Simon where the stable was, haled me through the -crowd and up his stairs with a fervour and heartiness which brought the -tears to my eyes, and served to impress the company whom I found above -with a more than sufficient sense of my importance. - -Seeing him again in the highest feather and in the full employment of -all those little arts and graces which served as a foil to his real -worth, I took it as a great honour that he laid them aside for the -nonce; and introduced me to the seat of honour and made me known to his -companions with a boyish directness and a simple thought for my comfort -which infinitely pleased me. He bade his landlord, without a moment’s -delay, bring wine and meat and everything which could refresh a -traveller, and was himself up and down a hundred times in a minute, -calling to his servants for this or that, or railing at them for their -failure to bring me a score of things I did not need. I hastened to make -my excuses to the company for interrupting them in the midst of their -talk; and these they were kind enough to accept in good part. At the -same time, reading clearly in M. d’Agen’s excited face and shining eyes -that he longed to be alone with me, they took the hint, and presently -left us together. - -‘Well,’ he said, coming back from the door, to which he had conducted -them, ‘what have you to tell me, my friend? She is not with you?’ - -‘She is with Mademoiselle de la Vire at Meudon,’ I answered, smiling. -‘And for the rest, she is well and in better spirits.’ - -‘She sent me some message? he asked. - -I shook my head. ‘She did not know I should see you,’ I answered. - -‘But she--she has spoken of me lately?’ he continued, his face falling. - -‘I do not think she has named your name for a fortnight,’ I answered, -laughing. ‘There’s for you! Why, man,’ I continued, adopting a different -tone, and laying my hand on his shoulder in a manner which reassured -him at least; as much as my words, ‘are you so young a lover as to be -ignorant that a woman says least of that of which she thinks most? -Pluck up, courage! Unless I am mistaken, you have little to be afraid of -except the past. Only have patience.’ - -‘You think so?’ he said gratefully. - -I assured him that I had no doubt of it; and on that he fell into a -reverie, and I to watching him. Alas for the littleness of our natures! -He had received me with open arms, yet at sight of the happiness which -took possession of his handsome face I gave way to the pettiest feeling -which can harbour in a man’s breast. I looked at him with eyes of envy, -bitterly comparing my lot with that which fate had reserved for him. He -had fortune, good looks, and success on his side, great relations, and -high hopes; I stood in instant jeopardy, my future dark, and every path -which presented itself so hazardous that I knew not which to adopt. He -was young, and I past my prime; he in favour, and I a fugitive. - -To such reflections he put an end in a way which made me blush for my -churlishness. For, suddenly awaking out, of his pleasant dream, he asked -me about myself and my fortunes, inquiring eagerly how I came to be in -St. Cloud, and listening to the story of my adventures with a generous -anxiety which endeared him to me more and more. When I had done--and by -that time Simon had joined us, and was waiting at the lower end of the -room--he pronounced that I must see the king. - -‘There is nothing else for it,’ he said. - -‘I have come to see him,’ I answered. - -‘Mon dieu, yes!’ he continued, rising from his seat and looking at me -with a face of concern. ‘No one else can help you.’ - -I nodded. - -‘Turenne has four thousand men here. You can do nothing against so -many?’ - -‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘The question is, will the king protect me?’ - -‘It is he or no one,’ M. d’Agen answered warmly. ‘You cannot see him -to-night: he has a Council. To-morrow at daybreak you may. You must lie -here to-night, and I will set my fellows to watch, and I think you will -be safe. I will away now and see if my uncle will help. Can you think of -anyone else who would speak for you?’ - -I considered, and was about to answer in the negative, when Simon, who -had listened with a scared face, suggested M. de Crillon. - -‘Yes, if he would,’ M. d’Agen exclaimed, looking at the lad with -approbation. ‘He has weight with the king.’ - -‘I think he might,’ I replied slowly. ‘I had a curious encounter with -him last night. And with that I told M. d’Agen of the duel I fought at -the inn. - -‘Good!’ he said, his eyes sparkling. ‘I wish I had been there to see. At -any rate we will try him. Crillon fears no one, not even the king.’ - -So it was settled. For that night I was to keep close in my friend’s -lodging, showing not even my nose at the window. - -When he had gone on his errand, and I found myself alone in the room, -I am fain to confess that I fell very low in my spirits. M. d’Agen’s -travelling equipment lay about the apartment, but failed to give any but -an untidy air to its roomy bareness. The light was beginning to -wane, the sun was gone. Outside, the ringing of bells and the distant -muttering of guns, with the tumult of sounds which rose from the crowded -street, seemed to tell of joyous life and freedom, and all the hopes and -ambitions from which I was cut off. - -Having no other employment, I watched the street, and keeping myself -well retired from the window saw knots of gay riders pass this way and -that through the crowd, their corslets shining and their voices -high. Monks and ladies, a cardinal and an ambassador, passed under my -eyes--these and an endless procession of townsmen and beggars, soldiers -and courtiers, Gascons, Normans and Picards. Never had I seen such a -sight or so many people gathered together. It seemed as if half Paris -had come out to make submission, so that while my gorge rose against my -own imprisonment, the sight gradually diverted my mind from my private -distresses, by bidding me find compensation for them in the speedy and -glorious triumph of the cause. - -Even when the light failed the pageant did not cease, but, torches and -lanthorns springing into life, turned night into day. From every side -came sounds of revelry or strife. The crowd continued to perambulate -the streets until a late hour, with cries of ‘VIVE LE ROI!’ and ‘VIVE -NAVARRE!’ while now and again the passage of a great noble with his -suite called forth a fresh outburst of enthusiasm. Nothing seemed -more certain, more inevitable, more clearly predestinated than that -twenty-four hours must see the fall of Paris. - -Yet Paris did not fall. - -When M. d’Agen returned a little before midnight, he found me still -sitting in the dark looking from the window. I heard him call roughly -for lights, and apprised by the sound of his voice that something was -wrong, I rose to meet him. He stood silent awhile, twirling his small -moustaches, and then broke into a passionate tirade, from which I was -not slow to gather that M. de Rambouillet declined to serve me. - -‘Well,’ I said, feeling for the young man’s distress and embarrassment, -‘perhaps he is right.’ - -‘He says that word respecting you came this evening,’ my friend -answered, his cheeks red with shame, ‘and that to countenance you after -that would only be to court certain humiliation. I did not let him off -too easily, I assure you,’ M. d’Agen continued, turning away to evade -my gaze; ‘but I got no satisfaction. He said you had his good-will, and -that to help you he would risk something, but that to do so under these -circumstances would be only to injure himself.’ - -‘There is still Crillon,’ I said, with as much cheerfulness as I could -assume. ‘Pray Heaven he be there early! Did M. de Rambouillet say -anything else?’ - -‘That your only chance was to fly as quickly and secretly as possible.’ - -‘He thought; my situation desperate, then?’ - -My friend nodded; and scarcely less depressed on my account than ashamed -on his own, evinced so much feeling that it was all I could do to -comfort him; which I succeeded in doing only when I diverted the -conversation to Madame de Bruhl. We passed the short night together, -sharing the same room and the same bed, and talking more than we -slept--of madame and mademoiselle, the castle on the hill, and the camp -in the woods, of all old days en fin, but little of the future. Soon -after dawn Simon, who lay on a pallet across the threshold, roused me -from a fitful sleep into which I had just fallen, and a few minutes -later I stood up dressed and armed, ready to try the last chance left to -me. - -M. d’Agen had dressed stage for stage with me, and I had kept silence. -But when he took up his cap, and showed clearly that he had it in his -mind to go with me, I withstood him. ‘No, I said, ‘you can do me little -good, and may do yourself much harm.’ - -‘You shall not go without one friend,’ he cried fiercely. - -‘Tut, tut!’ I said. ‘I shall have Simon.’ - -But Simon, when I turned to speak to him, was gone. Few men are at their -bravest in the early hours of the day, and it did not surprise me that -the lad’s courage had failed him. The defection only strengthened, -however, the resolution I had formed that I would not injure M. d’Agen; -though it was some time before I could persuade him that I was in -earnest, and would go alone or not at all. In the end he had to content -himself with lending me his back and breast, which I gladly put on, -thinking it likely enough that I might be set upon before I reached the -castle. And then, the time being about seven, I parted from him with -many embraces and kindly words, and went into the street with my sword -under my cloak. - -The town, late in rising after its orgy, lay very still and quiet. The -morning was grey and warm, with a cloudy sky. The flags, which had made -so gay, a show yesterday, hung close to the poles, or flapped idly and -fell dead again. I walked slowly along beneath them, keeping a sharp -look-out on every side; but there were few persons moving in the -streets, and I reached the Castle gates without misadventure. Here was -something of life; a bustle of officers and soldiers passing in and out, -of courtiers whose office made their presence necessary, of beggars who -had flocked hither in the night for company. In the middle of these I -recognised on a sudden and with great surprise Simon Fleix walking my -horse up and down. On seeing me he handed it to a boy, and came up to -speak to me with a red face, muttering that four legs were better than -two. I did not say much to him, my heart being full and my thoughts -occupied with the presence chamber and what I should say there; but -I nodded kindly to him, and he fell in behind me as the sentries -challenged me. I answered them that I sought M. de Crillon, and so -getting by, fell into the rear of a party of three who seemed bent on -the same errand as myself. - -One of these was a Jacobin monk, whose black and white robes, by -reminding me of Father Antoine, sent a chill to my heart. The -second, whose eye I avoided, I knew to be M. la Guesle, the king’s -Solicitor-General. The third was a stranger to me. Enabled by M. la -Guesle’s presence to pass the main guards without challenge, the party -proceeded through a maze of passages and corridors, conversing together -in a low tone; while I, keeping in their train with my face cunningly -muffled, got as far by this means as the ante-chamber, which I found -almost empty. Here I inquired of the usher for M. de Crillon, and -learned with the utmost consternation that he was not present. - -This blow, which almost stunned me, opened my eyes to the precarious -nature of my position, which only the early hour and small attendance -rendered possible for a moment. At any minute I might be recognised -and questioned, or my name be required; while the guarded doors of the -chamber shut me off as effectually from the king’s face and grace as -though I were in Paris, or a hundred leagues away. Endeavouring to the -best of my power to conceal the chagrin and alarm which possessed me as -this conviction took hold of me, I walked to the window; and to hide my -face more completely and at the same time gain a moment to collect my -thoughts, affected to be engaged in looking through it. - -Nothing which passed in the room, however, escaped me. I marked -everything and everyone, though all my thought was how I might get to -the king. The barber came out of the chamber with a silver basin, and -stood a moment, and went in again with an air of vast importance. The -guards yawned, and an officer entered, looked round, and retired. M. la -Guesle, who had gone in to the presence, came out again and stood near -me talking with the Jacobin, whose pale nervous face and hasty movements -reminded me somehow of Simon Fleix. The monk held a letter or petition -in his hand, and appeared to be getting it by heart, for his lips moved -continually. The light which fell on his face from the window showed it -to be of a peculiar sweaty pallor, and distorted besides. But supposing -him to be devoted, like many of his kind, to an unwholesome life, I -thought nothing of this; though I liked him little, and would have -shifted my place but for the convenience of his neighbourhood. - -Presently, while I was cudgelling my brains, a person came out and spoke -to La Guesle; who called in his turn to the monk, and started hastily -towards the door. The Jacobin followed. The third person who had entered -in their company had his attention directed elsewhere at the moment; and -though La Guesle called to him, took no heed. On the instant I grasped -the situation. Taking my courage in my hands, I crossed the floor behind -the monk; who, hearing me, or feeling his robe come in contact with -me, presently started and looked round suspiciously, his face wearing a -scowl so black and ugly that I almost recoiled from him, dreaming for -a moment that I saw before me the very spirit of Father Antoine. But as -the man said nothing, and the next instant averted his gaze, I hardened -my heart and pushed on behind him, and passing the usher, found myself -as by magic in the presence which had seemed a while ago as unattainable -by my wits as it was necessary to my safety. - -It was not this success alone, however, which caused my heart to beat -more hopefully. The king was speaking as I entered, and the gay tones -of his voice seemed to promise a favourable reception. His Majesty sat -half-dressed on a stool at the farther end of the apartment, surrounded -by five or six noblemen, while as many attendants, among whom I hastened -to mingle, waited near the door. - -La Guesle made as if he would advance, and then, seeing the king’s -attention was not on him, held back. But in a moment the king saw him -and called to him. ‘Ha, Guesle!’ he said with good-temper, ‘is it you? -Is your friend with you?’ - -The Solicitor went forward with the monk at his elbow, and I had leisure -to remark the favourable change which had taken place in the king, who -spoke more strongly and seemed in better health than of old. His -face looked less cadaverous under the paint, his form a trifle less -emaciated. That which struck me more than anything, however, was the -improvement in his spirits. His eyes sparkled from time to time, and he -laughed continually, so that I could scarcely believe that he was the -same man whom I had seen overwhelmed with despair and tortured by his -conscience. - -Letting his attention slip from La Guesle, he began to bandy words with -the nobleman who stood nearest to him; looking up at him with a roguish -eye, and making bets on the fall of Paris. - -‘Morbleu!’ I heard him cry gaily, ‘I would give a thousand pounds to see -the ‘Montpensier this morning! She may keep her third crown for -herself. Or, PESTE! we might put her in a convent. That would be a fine -vengeance!’ - -‘The veil for the tonsure,’ the nobleman said with a smirk. - -‘Ay. Why not? She would have made a monk of me,’ the king rejoined -smartly. ‘She must be ready to hang herself with her garters this -morning, if she is not dead of spite already. Or, stay, I had forgotten -her golden scissors. Let her open a vein with them. Well, what does your -friend want, La Guesle?’ - -I did not hear the answer, but it was apparently satisfactory, for in -a minute all except the Jacobin fell back, leaving the monk standing -before the king; who, stretching out his hand, took from him a letter. -The Jacobin, trembling visibly, seemed scarcely able to support the -honour done him, and the king, seeing this, said in a voice audible -to all, ‘Stand up, man. You are welcome. I love a cowl as some love a -lady’s hood. And now, what is this?’ - -He read a part of the letter and rose. As he did so the monk leaned -forward as though to receive the paper back again, and then so swiftly, -so suddenly, with so unexpected a movement that no one stirred until all -was over, struck the king in the body with a knife! As the blade flashed -and was hidden, and His Majesty with a deep sob fell back on the stool, -then, and not till then, I knew that I had missed a providential chance -of earning pardon and protection. For had I only marked the Jacobin as -we passed the door together, and read his evil face aright, a word, one -word, had done for me more than the pleading of a score of Crillons! - -Too late a dozen sprang forward to the king’s assistance; but before -they reached him he had himself drawn the knife from the wound and -struck the assassin with it on the head. While some, with cries of -grief, ran to support Henry, from whose body the blood was already -flowing fast, others seized and struck down the wretched monk. As they -gathered round him I saw him raise himself for a moment on his knees and -look upward; the blood which ran down his face, no less than the -mingled triumph and horror of his features, impressed the sight on -my recollection. The next instant three swords were plunged into -his breast, and his writhing body, plucked up from the floor amid a -transport of curses, was forced headlong through the casement and flung -down to make sport for the grooms and scullions who stood below. - -A scene of indescribable confusion followed, some crying that the -king was dead, while others called for a doctor, and some by name for -Dortoman. I expected to see the doors closed and all within secured, -that if the man had confederates they might be taken. But there was no -one to give the order. Instead, many who had neither the ENTREE nor -any business in the chamber forced their way in, and by their cries and -pressure rendered the hub-bub and tumult a hundred times worse. In the -midst of this, while I stood stunned and dumbfounded, my own risks and -concerns forgotten, I felt my sleeve furiously plucked, and, looking -round, found Simon at my elbow. The lad’s face was crimson, his eyes -seemed, starting from his head. - -‘Come,’ he muttered, seizing my arm. ‘Come!’ And without further -ceremony or explanation he dragged me towards the door, while his face -and manner evinced as much heat and impatience as if he had been himself -the assassin. ‘Come, there is not a moment to be lost,’ he panted, -continuing his exertions without the least intermission. - -‘Whither?’ I said, in amazement, as I reluctantly permitted him to -force me along the passage and through the gaping crowd on the stairs. -‘Whither, man?’ - -‘Mount and ride!’ was the answer he hissed in my ear. ‘Ride for your -life to the King of Navarre--to the King of France it may be! Ride as -you have never ridden before, and tell him the news, and bid him look -to himself! Be the first, and, Heaven helping us, Turenne may do his -worst!’ - -I felt every nerve in my body tingle as I awoke to his meaning. Without -a word I left his arm, and flung myself into the crowd which filled the -lower passage to suffocation. As I struggled fiercely with them Simon -aided me by crying ‘A doctor! a doctor! make way there!’ and this -induced many to give place to me under the idea that I was an accredited -messenger. Eventually I succeeded in forcing my way through and reaching -the courtyard; being, as it turned out, the first person to issue from -the Chateau. A dozen people sprang towards me with anxious eyes and -questions on their lips; but I ran past them and, catching the Cid, -which was fortunately at hand, by the rein, bounded into the saddle. - -As I turned the horse to the gate I heard Simon cry after me. ‘The -Scholars’ Meadow! Go that way!’ and then I heard no more. I was out of -the yard and galloping bare-headed down the pitched street, while women -snatched their infants up and ran aside, and men came startled to the -doors, crying that the League was upon us. As the good horse flung up -his head and bounded forward, hurling the gravel behind him with hoofs -which slid and clattered on the pavement, as the wind began to whistle -by me, and I seized the reins in a shorter grip, I felt my heart bound -with exultation. I experienced such a blessed relief and elation as the -prisoner long fettered and confined feels when restored to the air of -heaven. - -Down one street and through a narrow lane we thundered, until a broken -gateway stopped with fascines--through which the Cid blundered and -stumbled--brought us at a bound into the Scholars’ Meadow just as the -tardy sun broke through the clouds and flooded the low, wide plain with -brightness. Half a league in front of us the towers of Meudon rose to -view on a hill. In the distance, to the left, lay the walls of Paris, -and nearer, on the same side, a dozen forts and batteries; while here -and there, in that quarter, a shining clump of spears or a dense mass of -infantry betrayed the enemy’s presence. - -I heeded none of these things, however, nor anything except the towers -of Meudon, setting the Cid’s head straight for these and riding on at -the top of his speed. Swiftly ditch and dyke came into view before us -and flashed away beneath us. Men lying in pits rose up and aimed at us; -or ran with cries to intercept us. A cannon-shot fired from the fort -by Issy tore up the earth to one side; a knot of lancers sped from the -shelter of an earthwork in the same quarter, and raced us for half a -mile, with frantic shouts and threats of vengeance. But all such efforts -were vanity. The Cid, fired by this sudden call upon his speed, and -feeling himself loosed--rarest of events--to do his best, shook the foam -from his bit, and opening his blood-red nostrils to the wind, crouched -lower and lower; until his long neck, stretched out before him, seemed, -as the sward swept by, like the point of an arrow speeding resistless to -its aim. - -God knows, as the air rushed by me and the sun shone in my face, I cried -aloud like a boy, and though I sat still and stirred neither hand nor -foot, lest I should break the good Sard’s stride, I prayed wildly that -the horse which I had groomed with my own hands and fed with my last -crown might hold on unfaltering to the end. For I dreamed that the fate -of a nation rode in my saddle; and mindful alike of Simon’s words, ‘Bid -him look to himself,’ and of my own notion that the League would not be -so foolish as to remove one enemy to exalt another, I thought nothing -more likely than that, with all my fury, I should arrive too late, and -find the King of Navarre as I had left the King of France. - -In this strenuous haste I covered a mile as a mile has seldom been -covered before; and I was growing under the influence of the breeze -which whipped my temples somewhat more cool and hopeful, when I saw on -a sudden right before me, and between me and Meudon, a handful of men -engaged in a MELEE. There were red and white jackets in it--leaguers and -Huguenots--and the red coats seemed to be having the worst of it. Still, -while I watched, they came off in order, and unfortunately in such a way -and at such a speed that I saw they must meet me face to face whether -I tried to avoid the encounter or not. I had barely time to take in the -danger and its nearness, and discern beyond both parties the main-guard -of the Huguenots, enlivened by a score of pennons, when the Leaguers -were upon me. - -I suppose they knew that no friend would ride for Meudon at that pace, -for they dashed at me six abreast with a shout of triumph; and before -I could count a score we met. The Cid was still running strongly, and I -had not thought to stay him, so that I had no time to use my pistols. My -sword I had out, but the sun dazzled me and the men wore corslets, and I -made but poor play with it; though I struck out savagely, as we crashed -together, in my rage at this sudden crossing of my hopes when all seemed -done and gained. The Cid faced them bravely--I heard the distant huzza -of the Huguenots--and I put aside one point which threatened my throat. -But the sun was in my eyes and something struck me on the head. Another -second, and a blow in the breast forced me fairly from the saddle. -Gripping furiously at the air I went down, stunned and dizzy, my last -thought as I struck the ground being of mademoiselle, and the little -brook with the stepping-stones. - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. ‘LE ROI EST MORT!’ - -It was M. d’Agen’s breastpiece saved my life by warding off the point -of the varlet’s sword, so that the worst injury I got was the loss of -my breath for five minutes, with a swimming in the head and a kind of -syncope. These being past, I found myself on my back on the ground, with -a man’s knee on my breast and a dozen horsemen standing round me. The -sky reeled dizzily before my eyes and the men’s figures loomed gigantic; -yet I had sense enough to know what had happened to me, and that matters -might well be worse. - -Resigning myself to the prospect of captivity, I prepared to ask for -quarter; which I did not doubt I should receive, since they had taken -me in an open skirmish, and honestly, and in the daylight. But the man -whose knee already incommoded me sufficiently, seeing me about to speak, -squeezed me on a sudden so fiercely, bidding me at the same time in a -gruff whisper be silent, that I thought I could not do better than obey. - -Accordingly I lay still, and as in a dream, for my brain was still -clouded, heard someone say, ‘Dead! Is he? I hoped we had come in time. -Well, he deserved a better fate. Who is he, Rosny?’ - -‘Do you know him, Maignan?’ said a voice which sounded strangely -familiar. - -The man who knelt; upon me answered, ‘No, my lord. He is a stranger to -me. He has the look of a Norman.’ - -‘Like enough!’ replied a high-pitched voice I had not heard before. ‘For -he rode a good horse. Give me a hundred like it, and a hundred men to -ride as straight, and I would not envy the King of France.’ - -‘Much less his poor cousin of Navarre,’ the first speaker rejoined in a -laughing tone, ‘without a whole shirt to his back or a doublet that is -decently new. Come, Turenne, acknowledge that you are not so badly off -after all!’ - -At that word the cloud which had darkened my faculties swept on a sudden -aside. I saw that the men into whose hands I had fallen wore white -favours, their leader a white plume; and comprehended without more that -the King of Navarre had come to my rescue, and beaten off the Leaguers -who had dismounted me. At the same moment the remembrance of all that -had gone before, and especially of the scene I had witnessed in the -king’s chamber, rushed upon my mind with such overwhelming force that I -fell into a fury of impatience at the thought of the time I had wasted; -and rising up suddenly I threw off Maignan with all my force, crying out -that I was alive--that I was alive, and had news. - -The equerry did his best to restrain me, cursing me under his breath for -a fool, and almost; squeezing the life out of me. But in vain, for the -King of Navarre, riding nearer, saw me struggling. ‘Hallo! hallo! ‘tis a -strange dead man,’ he cried, interposing. ‘What is the meaning of this? -Let him go! Do you hear, sirrah? Let him go!’ - -The equerry obeyed and stood back sullenly, and I staggered to my feet, -and looked round with eyes which still swam and watered. On the -instant a cry of recognition greeted me, with a hundred exclamations -of astonishment. While I heard my name uttered on every side in a dozen -different tones, I remarked that M. de Rosny, upon whom my eyes -first fell, alone stood silent, regarding me with a face of sorrowful -surprise. - -‘By heavens, sir, I knew nothing of this!’ I heard the King of Navarre -declare, addressing himself to the Vicomte de Turenne. ‘The man is here -by no connivance of mine. Interrogate him yourself, if you will. Or I -will. Speak, sir,’ he continued, turning to me with his countenance hard -and forbidding. ‘You heard me yesterday, what I promised you? Why, in -God’s name, are you here to-day?’ - -I tried to answer, but Maignan had so handled me that I had not breath -enough, and stood panting. - -‘Your Highness’s clemency in this matter,’ M. de Turenne said, with a -sneer, ‘has been so great he trusted to its continuance. And doubtless -he thought to find you alone. I fear I am in the way.’ - -I knew him by his figure and his grand air, which in any other company -would have marked him for master; and forgetting the impatience which -a moment before had consumed me--doubtless I was still light-headed--I -answered him. ‘Yet I had once the promise of your lordship’s -protection,’ I gasped. - -‘My protection, sir?’ he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming angrily. - -‘Even so,’ I answered. ‘At the inn at Etampes, where M. de Crillon would -have fought me.’ - -He was visibly taken aback. ‘Are you that man?’ he cried. - -‘I am. But I am not here to prate of myself,’ I replied. And with -that--the remembrance of my neglected errand flashing on me again--I -staggered to the King of Navarre’s side, and, falling on my knees, -seized his stirrup. ‘Sire, I bring you news! great news! dreadful news!’ -I cried, clinging to it. ‘His Majesty was but a quarter of an hour ago -stabbed in the body in his chamber by a villain monk. And is dying, or, -it may be, dead.’ - -‘Dead? The King!’ Turenne cried with an oath. ‘Impossible!’ - -Vaguely I heard others crying, some this, some that, as surprise and -consternation, or anger, or incredulity moved them. But I did not answer -them, for Henry, remaining silent, held me spellbound and awed by the -marvellous change which I saw fall on his face. His eyes became on a -sudden suffused with blood, and seemed to retreat under his heavy brows; -his cheeks turned of a brick-red colour; his half-open lips showed his -teeth gleaming through his beard; while his great nose, which seemed -to curve and curve until it well-nigh met his chin, gave to his mobile -countenance an aspect as strange as it was terrifying. Withal he uttered -for a time no word, though I saw his hand, grip the riding-whip he held -in a convulsive grasp, as though his thought were ‘’Tis mine! Mine! -Wrest it away who dares!’ - -‘Bethink you, sir,’ he said at last, fixing his piercing eyes on me, and -speaking in a harsh, low tone, like the growling of a great dog, ‘this -is no jesting-time. Nor will you save your skin by a ruse. Tell me, on -your peril, is this a trick?’ - -‘Heaven forbid, sire!’ I answered with passion. ‘I was in the chamber, -and saw it; with my own eyes. I mounted on the instant, and rode hither -by the shortest route to warn your Highness to look to yourself. Monks -are many, and the Holy Union is not apt to stop half-way.’ - -I saw he believed me, for his face relaxed. His breath seemed to come -and go again, and for the tenth part of a second his eyes sought M. de -Rosny’s. Then he looked at me again. - -‘I thank you, sir, he said, bowing gravely and courteously, ‘for your -care for me--not for your tidings, which are of the sorriest. God grant -my good cousin and king may be hurt only. Now tell us exactly--for these -gentlemen are equally interested with myself--had a surgeon seen him?’ - -I replied in the negative, but added that the wound was in the groin, -and bled much. - -‘You said a few minutes ago, “dying or already dead!”’ the King of -Navarre rejoined. ‘Why?’ - -‘His Majesty’s face was sunken,’ I stammered. - -He nodded. ‘You may be mistaken,’ he said. ‘I pray that you are. But -here comes Mornay. He may know more.’ - -In a moment I was abandoned, even by M. de Turenne, so great was the -anxiety which possessed all to learn the truth. Maignan alone, under -pretence of adjusting a stirrup, remained beside me, and entreated me in -a low voice to begone. ‘Take this horse, M. de Marsac, if you will,’ he -urged, ‘and ride back the way you came. You have done what you came to -do. Go back, and be thankful.’ - -‘Chut!’ I said, ‘there is no danger.’ - -‘You will see,’ he replied darkly, ‘if you stay here. Come, come, take -my advice and the horse,’ he persisted, ‘and begone! Believe me, it will -be for the best.’ - -I laughed outright at his earnestness and his face of perplexity. ‘I see -you have M. de Rosny’s orders to get rid of me,’ I said. ‘But I am not -going, my friend. He must find some other way out of his embarrassment, -for here I stay.’ - -‘Well, your blood be on your own head,’ Maignan retorted, swinging -himself into the saddle with a gloomy face. ‘I have done my best to save -you!’ - -‘And your master!’ I answered, laughing. - -For flight was the last thing I had in my mind. I had ridden this ride -with a clear perception that the one thing I needed was a footing at -Court. By the special kindness of Providence I had now gained this; -and I was not the man to resign it because it proved to be scanty and -perilous. It was something that I had spoken to the great Vicomte face -to face and not been consumed, that I had given him look for look and -still survived, that I had put in practice Crillon’s lessons and come to -no harm. - -Nor was this all. I had never in the worst times blamed the King of -Navarre for his denial of me, I had been foolish, indeed, seeing that it -was in the bargain, had I done so; nor had I ever doubted his good-will -or his readiness to reward me should occasion arise. Now, I flattered -myself, I had given him that which he needed, and had hitherto -lacked--an excuse, I mean, for interference in my behalf. - -Whether I was right or wrong in this notion I was soon to learn, for at -this moment Henry’s cavalcade, which had left me a hundred paces behind, -came to a stop, and while some of the number waved to me to come on, one -spurred back to summon me to the king. I hastened to obey the order -as fast as I could, but I saw on approaching that though all was at a -standstill till I came up, neither the King of Navarre nor M. de Turenne -was thinking principally of me. Every face, from Henry’s to that of his -least important courtier, wore an air of grave preoccupation; which I -had no difficulty in ascribing to the doubt present in every mind, and -outweighing every interest, whether the King of France was dead, or -dying, or merely wounded. - -‘Quick, sir!’ Henry said with impatience, as soon as I came within -hearing. ‘Do not detain me with your affairs longer than is necessary. -M. de Turenne presses me to carry into effect the order I gave -yesterday. But as you have placed yourself in jeopardy on my account I -feel that something is due to you. You will be good enough, therefore, -to present yourself at once at M. la Varenne’s lodging, and give me -your parole to remain there without stirring abroad until your affair is -concluded.’ - -Aware that I owed this respite, which at once secured my present safety -and promised well for the future, to the great event that, even in M. de -Turenne’s mind, had overshadowed all others, I bowed in silence. Henry, -however, was not content with this. ‘Come, sir,’ he said sharply, and -with every appearance of anger, ‘do you agree to that?’ - -I replied humbly that I thanked him for his clemency. - -‘There is no need of thanks,’ he replied coldly. ‘What I have done is -without prejudice to M. de Turenne’s complaint. He must have justice.’ - -I bowed again, and in a moment the troop were gone at a gallop towards -Meudon, whence, as I afterwards learned, the King of Navarre, attended -by a select body of five-and-twenty horsemen, wearing private arms, -rode on at full speed to St. Cloud to present himself at his Majesty’s -bedside. A groom who had caught the Cid, which had escaped into the town -with no other injury than a slight wound in the shoulder, by-and-by met -me with the horse; and in this way I was enabled to render myself with -some decency at Varenne’s lodging, a small house at the foot of the -hill, not far from the Castle-gate. - -Here I found myself under no greater constraint than that which my own -parole laid upon me; and my room having the conveniency of a window -looking upon the public street, I was enabled from hour to hour to -comprehend and enter into the various alarms and surprises which made -that day remarkable. The manifold reports which flew from mouth to mouth -on the occasion, as well as the overmastering excitement which seized -all, are so well remembered, however, that I forbear to dwell upon them, -though they served to distract my mind from my own position. Suffice it -that at one moment we heard that His Majesty was dead, at another that -the wound was skin deep, and again that we might expect him at Meudon -before sunset. The rumour that the Duchess de Montpensier had taken -poison was no sooner believed than we were asked to listen to the guns -of Paris firing FEUX DE JOIE in honour of the King’s death. - -The streets were so closely packed with persons telling and hearing -these tales that I seemed from my window to be looking on a fair. Nor -was all my amusement withoutdoors; for a number of the gentlemen of the -Court, hearing that I had been at St. Cloud in the morning, and in the -very chamber, a thing which made me for the moment the most desirable -companion in the world, remembered on a sudden that they had a slight -acquaintance with me, and honoured me by calling upon me and sitting -a great part of the day with me. From which circumstance I confess I -derived as much hope as they diversion; knowing that courtiers are the -best weather-prophets in the world, who hate nothing so much as to be -discovered in the company of those on whom the sun does not shine. - -The return of the King of Navarre, which happened about the middle of -the afternoon, while it dissipated the fears of some and dashed the -hopes of others, put an end to this state of uncertainty by confirming, -to the surprise of many, that His Majesty was in no danger. We learned -with varying emotions that the first appearances, which had deceived, -not myself only, but experienced leeches, had been themselves belied by -subsequent conditions; and that, in a word, Paris had as much to fear, -and loyal men as much to hope, as before this wicked and audacious -attempt. - -I had no more than stomached this surprising information, which was less -welcome to me, I confess, than it should have been, when the arrival of -M. d’Agen, who greeted me with the affection which he never failed to -show me, distracted my thoughts for a time. Immediately on learning -where I was and, the strange adventures which had befallen me he had -ridden off; stopping only once, when he had nearly reached me, for the -purpose of waiting on Madame de Bruhl. I asked him how she had received -him. - -‘Like herself,’ he replied with an ingenuous blush. ‘More kindly than I -had a right to expect, if not as warmly as I had the courage to hope.’ - -‘That will come with time,’ I said, laughing. ‘And Mademoiselle de la -Vire?’ - -‘I did not see her,’ he answered, ‘but I heard she was well. And a -hundred fathoms deeper in love,’ he added, eyeing me roguishly, ‘than -when I saw her last.’ - -It was my turn to colour now, and I did so, feeling all the pleasure -and delight such a statement was calculated to afford me. Picturing -mademoiselle as I had seen her last, leaning from her horse with love -written so plainly on her weeping face that all who ran might read, I -sank into so delicious a reverie that M. la Varenne, entering suddenly, -surprised us both before another word passed on either side. - -His look and tone were as abrupt as it was in his nature, which was soft -and compliant, to make them. ‘M. de Marsac,’ he said, ‘I am sorry to -put any constraint upon you, but I am directed to forbid you to your -friends. And I must request this gentleman to withdraw.’ - -‘But all day my friends have come in and out,’ I said with surprise. ‘Is -this a new order?’ - -‘A written order, which reached me no farther back than two minutes ago, -‘he answered plainly. ‘I am also directed to remove you to a room at the -back of the house, that you may not overlook the street.’ - -‘But my parole was taken,’ I cried, with a natural feeling of -indignation. - -He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I am sorry to say that I have nothing to -do with that,’ he answered. ‘I can only obey orders. I must ask this -gentleman, therefore, to withdraw.’ - -Of course M. d’Agen had no option but to leave me; which he did, I could -see, notwithstanding his easy and confident expressions, with a good -deal of mistrust and apprehension. When he was gone, La Varenne lost -no time in carrying out the remainder of his orders. As a consequence I -found myself confined to a small and gloomy apartment which looked, at -a distance of three paces, upon the smooth face of the rock on which the -Castle stood. This change, from a window which commanded all the life -of the town, and intercepted every breath of popular fancy, to a closet -whither no sounds penetrated, and where the very transition from noon to -evening scarcely made itself known, could not fail to depress my spirits -sensibly; the more as I took it to be significant of a change in my -fortunes fully as grave. Reflecting that I must now appear to the King -of Navarre in the light of a bearer of false tidings, I associated the -order to confine me more closely with his return from St. Cloud; and -comprehending that M. de Turenne was once more at liberty to attend to -my affairs, I began to look about me with forebodings which were none -the less painful because the parole I had given debarred me from any -attempt to escape. - -Sleep and habit enabled me, nevertheless, to pass the night in comfort. -Very early in the morning a great firing of guns, which made itself -heard even in my quarters, led me to suppose that Paris had surrendered; -but the servant who brought me my breakfast; declined in a surly fashion -to give me any information. In the end, I spent the whole day alone, my -thoughts divided between my mistress and my own prospects, which seemed -to grow more and more gloomy as the hours succeeded one another. No one -came near me, no step broke the silence of the house; and for a while -I thought my guardians had forgotten even that I needed food. This -omission, it is true, was made good about sunset, but still M. la -Varenne did not appear, the servant seemed to be dumb, and I heard no -sounds in the house. - -I had finished my meal an hour or more, and the room was growing dark, -when the silence was at last broken by quick steps passing along the -entrance. They paused, and seemed to hesitate at the foot of the stairs, -but the next moment they came on again, and stopped at my door. I rose -from my seat on hearing the key turned in the lock, and my astonishment -may be conceived when I saw no other than M. de Turenne enter, and close -the door behind him. - -He saluted me in a haughty manner as he advanced to the table, raising -his cap for an instant and then replacing it. This done he stood looking -at me, and I at him, in a silence which on my side was the result of -pure astonishment; on his, of contempt and a kind of wonder. The evening -light, which was fast failing, lent a sombre whiteness to his face, -causing it to stand out from the shadows behind him in a way which was -not without its influence on me. - -‘Well!’ he said at, last, speaking slowly and with unimaginable -insolence, ‘I am here to look at you!’ - -I felt my anger rise, and gave him back look for look. ‘At your will,’ I -said, shrugging my shoulders. - -‘And to solve a question,’ he continued in the same tone. ‘To learn -whether the man who was mad enough to insult and defy me was the old -penniless dullard some called him, or the dare-devil others painted -him.’ - -‘You are satisfied now?’ I said. - -He eyed me for a moment closely; then with sudden heat he cried, ‘Curse -me if I am! Nor whether I have to do with a man very deep or very -shallow, a fool or a knave!’ - -‘You may say what you please to a prisoner,’ I retorted coldly. - -‘Turenne commonly does--to whom he pleases!’ he answered. The next -moment he made me start by saying, as he drew out a comfit-box and -opened it, ‘I am just from the little fool you have bewitched. If she -were in my power I would have her whipped and put on bread and water -till she came to her senses. As she is not, I must take another way. -Have you any idea, may I ask,’ he continued in his cynical tone, ‘what -is going to become of you, M. de Marsac?’ - -I replied, my heart inexpressibly lightened by what he had said of -mademoiselle, that I placed the fullest confidence in the justice of the -King of Navarre. - -He repeated the name in a tone, I did not understand. - -‘Yes, sir, the King of Navarre,’ I answered firmly. - -‘Well, I daresay you have good reason to do so,’ he rejoined with a -sneer. ‘Unless I am mistaken he knew a little more of this affair than -he acknowledges.’ - -‘Indeed? The King of Navarre?’ I said, staring stolidly at him. - -‘Yes, indeed, indeed, the King of Navarre!’ he retorted, mimicking me, -with a nearer approach to anger than I had yet witnessed in him. ‘But -let him be a moment, sirrah!’ he continued, ‘and do you listen to me. Or -first look at that. Seeing is believing.’ - -He drew out as he spoke a paper, or, to speak more correctly, a -parchment, which he thrust with a kind of savage scorn into my hand. -Repressing for the moment the surprise I felt, I took it to the window, -and reading it with difficulty, found it to be a royal patent drawn, -as far as I could judge, in due form, and appointing some person -unknown--for the name was left blank--to the post of Lieutenant-Governor -of the Armagnac, with a salary of twelve thousand livres a year! - -‘Well, sir?’ he said impatiently. - -‘Well?’ I answered mechanically. For my brain reeled; the exhibition of -such a paper in such a way raised extraordinary thoughts in my mind. - -‘Can you read it?’ he asked. - -‘Certainly,’ I answered, telling myself that he would fain play a trick -on me. - -‘Very well,’ he replied, ‘then listen. I am going to condescend; to make -you an offer, M. de Marsac. I will procure you your freedom, and fill up -the blank, which you see there, with your name--upon one condition.’ - -I stared at him with all the astonishment it was natural for me to feel -in the face, of such a proposition. ‘You will confer this office on me?’ -I muttered incredulously. - -‘The king having placed it at my disposal,’ he answered, ‘I will. But -first let me remind you,’ he went on proudly, ‘that the affair has -another side. On the one hand I offer you such employment, M. de Marsac, -as should satisfy your highest ambition. On the other, I warn you that -my power to avenge myself is no less to-day than it was yesterday; and -that if I condescend to buy you, it is because that course commends -itself to me for reasons, not because it is the only one open.’ - -I bowed. ‘The condition, M. le Vicomte?’ I said huskily, beginning to -understand him. - -‘That you give up all claim and suit to the hand of my kinswoman,’ he -answered lightly. ‘That is all. It is a simple and easy condition.’ - -I looked at him in renewed astonishment, in wonder, in stupefaction; -asking myself a hundred questions. Why did he stoop to bargain, who -could command? Why did he condescend to treat, who held me at his mercy? -Why did he gravely discuss my aspirations, to whom they must seem the -rankest presumption? Why?--but I could not follow it. I stood looking at -him in silence; in perplexity as great as if he had offered me the Crown -of France; in amazement and doubt and suspicion that knew no bounds. - -‘Well!’ he said at last, misreading the emotion which appeared in my -face. ‘You consent, sir?’ - -‘Never!’ I answered firmly. - -He started. ‘I think I cannot have heard you aright,’ he said, speaking -slowly and almost courteously. ‘I offer you a great place and my -patronage, M. de Marsac. Do I understand that you prefer a prison and my -enmity?’ - -‘On those conditions,’ I answered. - -‘Think, think!’ he said harshly. - -‘I have thought,’ I answered. - -‘Ay, but have you thought where you are?’ he retorted. ‘Have you thought -how many obstacles lie between you and this little fool? How many -persons you must win over, how many friends you must gain? Have you -thought what it will be to have me against you in this, or which of us -is more likely to win in the end?’ - -‘I have thought,’ I rejoined. - -But my voice shook, my lips were dry. The room had grown dark. The rock -outside, intercepting the light, gave it already the air of a dungeon. -Though I did not dream of yielding to him, though I even felt that in -this interview he had descended to my level, and I had had the better of -him, I felt my heart sink. For I remembered how men immured in prisons -drag out their lives always petitioning, always forgotten; how wearily -the days go, that to free men are bright with hope and ambition. And I -saw in a flash what it would be to remain here, or in some such place; -never to cross horse again, or breathe the free air of Heaven, never -to hear the clink of sword against stirrup, or the rich tones of M. -d’Agen’s voice calling for his friend! - -I expected M. de Turenne to go when I had made my answer, or else to -fall into such a rage as opposition is apt to cause in those who seldom -encounter it. To my surprise, however, he restrained himself. ‘Come,’ he -said, with patience which fairly astonished me, and so much the more -as chagrin was clearly marked in his voice, ‘I know where you put your -trust. You think the King of Navarre will protect you. Well, I pledge -you the honour of Turenne that he will not; that the King of Navarre -will do nothing to save you. Now, what do you say?’ - -‘As I said before,’ I answered doggedly. - -He took up the parchment from the table with a grim laugh. ‘So much -the worse for you then!’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘So much the -worse for you! I took you for a rogue! It seems you are a fool!’ - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. ‘VIVE LE ROI!’ - -He took his leave with those words. But his departure, which I -should have hailed a few minutes before with joy, as a relief from -embarrassment and humiliation, found me indifferent. The statement to -which he had solemnly pledged himself in regard to the King of Navarre, -that I could expect no further help from him, had prostrated me; dashing -my hopes and spirits so completely that I remained rooted to the spot -long after his step had ceased to sound on the stairs. If what he said -was true, in the gloom which darkened alike my room and my prospects -I could descry no glimmer of light. I knew His Majesty’s weakness and -vacillation too well to repose any confidence in him; if the King -of Navarre also abandoned me, I was indeed without hope, as without -resource. - -I had stood some time with my mind painfully employed upon this problem, -which my knowledge of M. de Turenne’s strict honour in private matters -did not allow me to dismiss lightly, when I heard another step on the -stairs, and in a moment M. la Varenne opened the door. Finding me in the -dark he muttered an apology for the remissness of the servants; which I -accepted, seeing nothing else for it, in good part. - -‘We have been at sixes-and-sevens all day, and you have been forgotten,’ -he continued. ‘But you will have no reason to complain now. I am ordered -to conduct you to His Majesty without delay.’ - -‘To St. Cloud?’ I exclaimed, greatly astonished. - -‘No, the king of France is here,’ he answered. - -‘At Meudon?’ - -‘To be sure. Why not?’ - -I expressed my wonder at his Majesty’s rapid recovery. - -‘Pooh!’ he answered roughly. ‘He is as well as he ever was. I will leave -you my light. Be good enough to descend as soon as you are ready, for it -is ill work keeping kings waiting. Oh! and I had forgotten one thing,’ -he continued, returning when he had already reached the door. ‘My orders -are to see that you do not hold converse with anyone until you have seen -the king, M. de Marsac. You will kindly remember this if we are kept -waiting in the antechamber.’ - -‘Am I to be transported to--other custody?’ I asked, my mind full of -apprehension. - -He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Possibly,’ he replied. ‘I do not know.’ - -Of course there was nothing for it but to murmur that I was at the -king’s disposition; after which La Varenne retired, leaving me to put -the best face on the matter I could. Naturally I augured anything -but well of an interview weighted with such a condition; and this -contributed still further to depress my spirits, already lowered by the -long solitude in which I had passed the day. Fearing nothing, however, -so much as suspense, I hastened to do what I could to repair my costume, -and then descended to the foot of the stairs, where I found my custodian -awaiting me with a couple of servants, of whom one bore a link. - -We went out side by side, and having barely a hundred yards to go, -seemed in a moment to be passing through the gate of the Castle. I -noticed that the entrance was very strongly guarded, but an instant’s -reflection served to remind me that this was not surprising after what -had happened at St. Cloud. I remarked to M. la Varenne as we crossed the -courtyard that I supposed Paris had surrendered; but he replied in the -negative so curtly, and with so little consideration, that I forebore to -ask any other questions; and the Chateau being small, we found ourselves -almost at once in a long, narrow corridor, which appeared to serve as -the antechamber. - -It was brilliantly lighted and crowded from end to end, and almost from -wall to wall, with a mob of courtiers; whose silence, no less than -their keen and anxious looks, took me by surprise. Here and there two or -three, who had seized upon the embrasure of a window, talked together in -a low tone; or a couple, who thought themselves sufficiently important -to pace the narrow passage between the waiting lines, conversed in -whispers as they walked. But even these were swift to take alarm, and -continually looked askance; while the general company stood at gaze, -starting and looking up eagerly whenever the door swung open or a -newcomer was announced. The strange silence which prevailed reminded me -of nothing so much as of the Court at Blois on the night of the Duke -of Mercoeur’s desertion; but that stillness had brooded over empty -chambers, this gave a peculiar air of strangeness to a room thronged in -every part. - -M. la Varenne, who was received by those about the door with silent -politeness, drew me into the recess of a window; whence I was able -to remark, among other things, that the Huguenots present almost -outnumbered the king’s immediate following. Still, among those who were -walking up and down, I noticed M. de Rambouillet, to whom at another -time I should have hastened to pay my respects; with Marshal d’Aumont, -Sancy, and Humieres. Nor had I more than noted the presence of these -before the door of the chamber opened and added to their number Marshal -Biron, who came out leaning on the arm of Crillon. The sight of these -old enemies in combination was sufficient of itself to apprise me that -some serious crisis was at hand; particularly as their progress through -the crowd was watched, I observed, by a hundred curious and attentive -eyes. - -They disappeared at last through the outer door, and the assemblage -turned as with one accord to see who came next. But nearly half an hour -elapsed before the Chamber door, which all watched so studiously, again -opened. This time it was to give passage to my late visitor, Turenne, -who came out smiling, and leaning, to my great surprise, on the arm of -M. de Rosny. - -As the two walked down the room, greeting here and there an obsequious -friend, and followed in their progress by all eyes, I felt my heart sink -indeed; both at sight of Turenne’s good-humour, and of the company in -which I found him. Aware that in proportion as he was pleased I was like -to meet with displeasure, I still might have had hope left had I had -Rosny left. Losing him, however--and I could not doubt, seeing him as I -saw him, that I had lost him--and counting the King of Navarre as gone -already, I felt such a failure of courage as I had never known before. -I told myself with shame that I was not made for Courts, or for such -scenes as these; and recalling with new and keen mortification the poor -figure I had cut in the King of Navarre’s antechamber at St. Jean, I -experienced so strange a gush of pity for my mistress that nothing could -exceed the tenderness I felt for her. I had won her under false colours, -I was not worthy of her. I felt that my mere presence in her company in -such a place as this, and among these people, must cover her with shame -and humiliation. - -To my great relief, since I knew my face was on fire, neither of the -two, as they walked down the passage, looked my way or seemed conscious -of my neighbourhood. At the door they stood a moment talking earnestly, -and it seemed as if M. de Rosny would have accompanied the Vicomte -farther. The latter would not suffer it, however, but took his leave -there; and this with so many polite gestures that my last hope based on -M. de Rosny vanished. - -Nevertheless, that gentleman was not so wholly changed that on his -turning to re-traverse the room I did not see a smile flicker for an -instant on his features as the two lines of bowing courtiers opened -before him. The next moment his look fell on me, and though his face -scarcely altered, he stopped opposite me. - -‘M. de Marsac is waiting to see His Majesty?’ he asked aloud, speaking -to M. la Varenne. - -My companion remaining silent, I bowed. - -‘In five minutes,’ M. de Rosny replied quietly, yet with a distant air, -which made me doubt whether I had not dreamed all I remembered of this -man. ‘Ah! M. de Paul, what can I do for you?’ he continued. And he bent -his head to listen to the application which a gentleman who stood next -me poured into his ear. ‘I will see,’ I heard him answer. ‘In any case -you shall know to-morrow.’ - -‘But you will be my friend?’ M. Paul urged, detaining him by the sleeve. - -‘I will put only one before you,’ he answered. - -My neighbour seemed to shrink into himself with disappointment. ‘Who is -it?’ he murmured piteously. - -‘The king and his service, my friend,’ M. de Rosny replied drily. And -with that he walked away. But half a dozen times at least; before he -reached the upper end of the room I saw the scene repeated. - -I looked on at all this in the utmost astonishment, unable to guess or -conceive what had happened to give M. de Rosny so much importance. For -it did not escape me that the few words he had stopped to speak to me -had invested me with interest in the eyes of all who stood near. -They gave me more room and a wider breathing-space, and looking at me -askance, muttered my name in whispers. In my uncertainty, however, what -this portended I drew no comfort from it; and before I had found time to -weigh it thoroughly the door through which Turenne and Rosny had entered -opened again. The pages and gentlemen who stood about it hastened to -range themselves on either side. An usher carrying a white wand came -rapidly down the room, here and there requesting the courtiers to stand -back where the passage was narrow. Then a loud voice without cried, ‘The -King, gentlemen! the King!’ and one in every two of us stood a-tiptoe to -see him enter. - -But there came in only Henry of Navarre, wearing a violet cloak and cap. - -I turned to La Varenne and with my head full of confusion, muttered -impatiently, ‘But the king, man! Where is the king?’ - -He grinned at me, with his hand before his mouth. ‘Hush!’ he whispered. -‘’Twas a jest we played on you! His late Majesty died at daybreak this -morning. This is the king.’ - -‘This! the King of Navarre?’ I cried; so loudly that some round us -called ‘Silence!’ - -‘No, the King of France, fool!’ he replied. ‘Your sword must be sharper -than your wits, or I have been told some lies!’ - -I let the gibe pass and the jest, for my heart was beating so fast and -painfully that I could scarcely preserve my outward composure. There was -a mist before my eyes, and a darkness which set the lights at defiance. -It was in vain I tried to think what this might mean--to me. I could not -put two thoughts together, and while I still questioned what reception -I might expect, and who in this new state of things were my friends, the -king stopped before me. - -‘Ha, M. de Marsac!’ he cried cheerfully, signing to those who stood -before me to give place. ‘You are the gentleman who rode so fast to warn -me the other morning. I have spoken to M. de Turenne about you, and he -is willing to overlook the complaint he had against you. For the rest, -go to my closet, my friend. Go! Rosny knows my will respecting you.’ - -I had sense enough left to kneel and kiss his hand; but it was in -silence, which he knew how to interpret. He had moved on and was -speaking to another before I recovered the use of my tongue, or the wits -which his gracious words had scattered. When I did so, and got on my -feet again I found myself the centre of so much observation and the -object of so many congratulations that I was glad to act upon the hint -which La Varenne gave me, and hurry away to the closet. - -Here, though I had now an inkling of what I had to expect, I found -myself received with a kindness which bade fair to overwhelm me. Only M. -de Rosny was in the room, and he took me by both hands in a manner which -told me without a word that the Rosny of old days was back, and that; -for the embarrassment I had caused him of late I was more than forgiven. -When I tried to thank him for the good offices which I knew he had done -me with the king he would have none of it; reminding me with a smile -that he had eaten of my cheese when the choice lay between that and -Lisieux. - -‘And besides, my friend,’ he continued, his eyes twinkling, ‘You have -made me richer by five hundred crowns.’ - -‘How so?’ I asked, wondering more and more. - -‘I wagered that sum with Turenne that he could not bribe you,’ he -answered, smiling. ‘And see,’ he continued, selecting from some on the -table the same parchment I had seen before, ‘here is the bribe. Take -it; it is yours. I have given a score to-day, but none with the same -pleasure. Let me be the first to congratulate the Lieutenant-Governor of -the Armagnac.’ - -For a while I could not believe that he was in earnest; which pleased -him mightily, I remember. When I was brought at last to see that the -king had meant this for me from the first, and had merely lent the -patent to Turenne that the latter might make trial of me, my pleasure -and gratification were such that I could no more express them then than -I can now describe them. For they knew no bounds. I stood before Rosny -silent and confused, with long-forgotten tears welling up to my eyes, -and one regret only in my heart--that my dear mother had not lived to -see the fond illusions with which I had so often amused her turned to -sober fact. Not then, but afterwards, I remarked that the salary of my -office amounted to the exact sum which I had been in the habit of naming -to her; and I learned that Rosny had himself fixed it on information -given him by Mademoiselle de la Vire. - -As my transports grew more moderate, and I found voice to thank my -benefactor, he had still an answer. ‘Do not deceive yourself, my -friend,’ he said gravely, ‘or think this an idle reward. My master -is King of France, but he is a king without a kingdom, and a captain -without money. To-day, to gain his rights, he has parted with half his -powers. Before he win all back there will be blows--blows, my friend. -And to that end I have bought your sword.’ - -I told him that if no other left its scabbard for the king, mine should -be drawn. - -‘I believe you,’ he answered kindly, laying his hand on my shoulder. -‘Not by reason of your words--Heaven knows I have heard vows enough -to-day!--but because I have proved you. And now,’ he continued, speaking -in an altered tone and looking at me with a queer smile, ‘now I suppose -you are perfectly satisfied? You have nothing more to wish for, my -friend?’ - -I looked aside in a guilty fashion, not daring to prefer on the top of -all his kindness a further petition. Moreover, His Majesty might have -other views; or on this point Turenne might have proved obstinate. In -a word, there was nothing in what had happened, or on M. de Rosny’s -communication, to inform me whether the wish of my heart was to be -gratified or not. - -But I should have known that great man better than to suppose that he -was one to promise without performing, or to wound a friend when he -could not salve the hurt. After enjoying my confusion for a time he -burst into a great shout of laughter, and taking me familiarly by the -shoulders, turned me towards the door. ‘There, go!’ he said. ‘Go up the -passage. You will find a door on the right, and a door on the left. You -will know which to open.’ - -Forbidding me to utter a syllable, he put me out. In the passage, where -I fain would have stood awhile to collect my thoughts, I was affrighted -by sounds which warned me that the king was returning that way. Fearing -to be surprised by him in such a state of perturbation, I hurried to the -end of the passage, where I discovered, as I had been told, two doors. - -They were both closed, and there was nothing about either of them to -direct my choice. But M. de Rosny was correct in supposing that I had -not forgotten the advice he had offered me on the day when he gave me -so fine a surprise in his own house--‘When you want a good wife, M. -de Marsac, turn to the right!’ I remembered the words, and without a -moment’s hesitation--for the king and his suite were already entering -the passage--I knocked boldly, and scarcely waiting for an invitation, -went in. - -Fanchette was by the door, but stood aside with a grim smile, which I -was at liberty to accept as a welcome or not. Mademoiselle, who had been -seated on the farther side of the table, rose as I entered, and we stood -looking at one another. Doubtless she waited for me to speak first; -while I on my side was so greatly taken aback by the change wrought in -her by the Court dress she was wearing and the air of dignity with which -she wore it, that I stood gasping. I turned coward after all that had -passed between us. This was not the girl I had wooed in the greenwood -by St. Gaultier; nor the pale-faced woman I had lifted to the saddle -a score of times in the journey Paris-wards. The sense of unworthiness -which I had experienced a few minutes before in the crowded antechamber -returned in full force in presence of her grace and beauty, and once -more I stood tongue-tied before her, as I had stood in the lodgings at -Blois. All the later time, all that had passed between us was forgotten. - -She, for her part, looked at me wondering at my silence. Her face, which -had grown rosy red at my entrance, turned pale again. Her eyes grew -large with alarm; she began to beat her foot on the floor in a manner I -knew. ‘Is anything the matter, sir?’ she muttered at last. - -‘On the contrary, mademoiselle,’ I answered hoarsely, looking every way, -and grasping at the first thing I could think of, ‘I am just from M. de -Rosny.’ - -‘And he?’ - -‘He has made me Lieutenant-Governor of the Armagnac.’ - -She curtseyed to me in a wonderful fashion. ‘It pleases me to -congratulate you, sir,’ she said, in a voice between laughing and -crying. ‘It is not more than equal to your deserts.’ - -I tried to thank her becomingly, feeling at the same time more foolish -than I had ever felt in my life; for I knew that this was neither what I -had come to tell nor she to hear. Yet I could not muster up courage nor -find words to go farther, and stood by the table in a state of miserable -discomposure. - -‘Is that all, sir?’ she said at last, losing patience. - -Certainly it was now or never, and I knew it. I made the effort. ‘No, -mademoiselle,’ I said in a low voice. ‘Far from it. But I do not see -here the lady to whom I came to address myself, and whom I have seen -a hundred times in far other garb than yours, wet and weary and -dishevelled, in danger and in flight. Her I have served and loved; and -for her I have lived. I have had no thought for months that has not been -hers, nor care save for her. I and all that I have by the king’s bounty -are hers, and I came to lay them at her feet. But I do not see her -here.’ - -‘No, sir?’ she answered in a whisper, with her face averted. - -‘No, mademoiselle.’ - -With a sudden brightness and quickness which set my heart beating she -turned, and looked at me. ‘Indeed!’ she said. ‘I am sorry for that. It -is a pity your love should be given elsewhere, M. de Marsac--since it is -the king’s will that you should marry me.’ - -‘Ah, mademoiselle!’ I cried, kneeling before her--for she had come round -the table and stood beside me--‘But you?’ - -‘It is my will too, sir,’ she answered, smiling through her tears. - -* * * - -On the following day Mademoiselle de la Vire became my wife; the king’s -retreat from Paris, which was rendered necessary by the desertion of -many who were ill-affected to the Huguenots, compelling the instant -performance of the marriage, if we would have it read by M. d’Amours. -This haste notwithstanding, I was enabled by the kindness of M. d’Agen -to make such an appearance, in respect both of servants and equipment, -as became rather my future prospects than my past distresses. It is -true that His Majesty, out of a desire to do nothing which might offend -Turenne, did not honour us with his presence; but Madame Catherine -attended on his behalf, and herself gave me my bride. M. de Sully and M. -Crillon, with the Marquis de Rambouillet and his nephew, and my distant -connection, the Duke de Rohan, who first acknowledged me on that day, -were among those who earned my gratitude by attending me upon the -occasion. - -The marriage of M. Francois d’Agen with the widow of my old rival and -opponent did not take place until something more than a year later, a -delay which was less displeasing to me than to the bridegroom, inasmuch -as it left madame at liberty to bear my wife company during my absence -on the campaign of Arques and Ivry. In the latter battle, which added -vastly to the renown of M. de Rosny, who captured the enemy’s standard -with his own hand, I had the misfortune to be wounded in the second -of the two charges led by the king; and being attacked by two foot -soldiers, as I lay entangled I must inevitably have perished but for the -aid afforded me by Simon Fleix, who flew to the rescue with the courage -of a veteran. His action was observed by the king, who begged him -from me, and attaching him to his own person in the capacity of clerk, -started him so fairly on the road to fortune that he has since risen -beyond hope or expectation. - -The means by which Henry won for a time the support of Turenne (and -incidentally procured his consent to my marriage) are now too notorious -to require explanation. Nevertheless, it was not until the Vicomte’s -union a year later with Mademoiselle de la Marck, who brought him the -Duchy of Bouillon, that I thoroughly understood the matter; or the -kindness peculiar to the king, my master, which impelled that great -monarch, in the arrangement of affairs so vast, to remember the -interests of the least of his servants. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Gentleman of France, by Stanley Weyman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE *** - -***** This file should be named 1939-0.txt or 1939-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/1939/ - -Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-0.zip b/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6b1d484..0000000 --- a/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-h.zip b/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d816751..0000000 --- a/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-h/1939-h.htm b/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-h/1939-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index e0211cc..0000000 --- a/old/old-2025-02-18/1939-h/1939-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17722 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <title> - A Gentleman of France, by Stanley Weyman - </title> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Gentleman of France, by Stanley Weyman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: A Gentleman of France - -Author: Stanley Weyman - -Release Date: October 5, 2008 [EBook #1939] -Last Updated: November 20, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE *** - - - - -Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger - - - - - -</pre> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <h1> - A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE - </h1> - <h2> - BEING THE MEMOIRS OF GASTON DE BONNE SIEUR DE MARSAC - </h2> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <h2> - By Stanley Weyman - </h2> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <div class="mynote"> - <p> - Transcriber’s Note: - </p> - <p> - In this Etext, text in italics has been written in capital letters. - </p> - <p> - Many French words in the text have accents, etc. which have been - omitted. - </p> - <br /> - </div> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <blockquote> - <p class="toc"> - <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> - </p> - <p> - <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE.</b> </a> <br /> - <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> THE SPORT - OF FOOLS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> THE - KING OF NAVARRE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> BOOT - AND SADDLE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> MADEMOISELLE - DE LA VIRE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> THE - ROAD TO BLOIS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> MY - MOTHER’S LODGING. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> SIMON - FLEIX <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> AN - EMPTY ROOM. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> THE - HOUSE IN THE RUELLE D’ARCY. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER - X. </a> THE FIGHT ON THE STAIRS. <br /><br /> <a - href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> THE MAN AT THE DOOR. - <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> MAXIMILIAN - DE BETHUNE, BARON DE ROSNY. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER - XIII. </a> AT ROSNY. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> - CHAPTER XIV. </a> M. DE RAMBOUILLET. <br /><br /> <a - href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> VILAIN HERODES. <br /><br /> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> IN THE KING’S - CHAMBER. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> THE - JACOBIN MONK. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> THE - OFFER OF THE LEAGUE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. - </a> MEN CALL IT CHANCE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> - CHAPTER XX. </a> THE KING’S FACE. <br /><br /> <a - href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> TWO WOMEN. <br /><br /> - <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> ‘LA FEMME - DISPOSE.’ <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> THE - LAST VALOIS. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> A - ROYAL PERIL. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> TERMS - OF SURRENDER. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> MEDITATIONS. - <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> TO - ME, MY FRIENDS! <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> THE - CASTLE ON THE HILL. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. - </a> PESTILENCE AND FAMINE. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> - CHAPTER XXX. </a> STRICKEN. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> - CHAPTER XXXI. </a> UNDER THE GREENWOOD. <br /><br /> <a - href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. </a> A TAVERN BRAWL. - <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. </a> AT - MEUDON. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. </a> ’TIS - AN ILL WIND.’ <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. </a> ‘LE - ROI EST MORT!’ <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. </a> ‘VIVE - LE ROI!’ <br /><br /> - </p> - </blockquote> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <h1> - A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. - </h1> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I. THE SPORT OF FOOLS. - </h2> - <p> - The death of the Prince of Conde, which occurred in the spring of 1588, by - depriving me of my only patron, reduced me to such straits that the winter - of that year, which saw the King of Navarre come to spend his Christmas at - St. Jean d’Angely, saw also the nadir of my fortunes. I did not know at - this time—I may confess it to-day without shame—wither to turn - for a gold crown or a new scabbard, and neither had nor discerned any hope - of employment. The peace lately patched up at Blois between the King of - France and the League persuaded many of the Huguenots that their final - ruin was at hand; but it could not fill their exhausted treasury or enable - them to put fresh troops into the field. - </p> - <p> - The death of the Prince had left the King of Navarre without a rival in - the affections of the Huguenots; the Vicomte de Turenne, whose turbulent; - ambition already began to make itself felt, and M. de Chatillon, ranking - next to him. It was my ill-fortune, however, to be equally unknown to all - three leaders, and as the month of December which saw me thus miserably - straitened saw me reach the age of forty, which I regard, differing in - that from many, as the grand climacteric of a man’s life, it will be - believed that I had need of all the courage which religion and a - campaigner’s life could supply. - </p> - <p> - I had been compelled some time before to sell all my horses except the - black Sardinian with the white spot on its forehead; and I now found - myself obliged to part also with my valet de chambre and groom, whom I - dismissed on the same day, paying them their wages with the last links of - gold chain left to me. It was not without grief and dismay that I saw - myself thus stripped of the appurtenances of a man of birth, and driven to - groom my own horse under cover of night. But this was not the worst. My - dress, which suffered inevitably from this menial employment, began in no - long time to bear witness to the change in my circumstances; so that on - the day of the King of Navarre’s entrance into St. Jean I dared not face - the crowd, always quick to remark the poverty of those above them, but was - fain to keep within doors and wear out my patience in the garret of the - cutler’s house in the Rue de la Coutellerie, which was all the lodging I - could now afford. - </p> - <p> - Pardieu, ‘tis a strange world! Strange that time seems to me; more strange - compared with this. My reflections on that day, I remember, were of the - most melancholy. Look at it how I would, I could not but see that my - life’s spring was over. The crows’ feet were gathering about my eyes, and - my moustachios, which seemed with each day of ill-fortune to stand out - more fiercely in proportion as my face grew leaner, were already grey. I - was out at elbows, with empty pockets, and a sword which peered through - the sheath. The meanest ruffler who, with broken feather and tarnished - lace, swaggered at the heels of Turenne, was scarcely to be distinguished - from me. I had still, it is true, a rock and a few barren acres in - Brittany, the last remains of the family property; but the small small - sums which the peasants could afford to pay were sent annually to Paris, - to my mother, who had no other dower. And this I would not touch, being - minded to die a gentleman, even if I could not live in that estate. - </p> - <p> - Small as were my expectations of success, since I had no one at the king’s - side to push my business, nor any friend at Court, I nevertheless did all - I could, in the only way that occurred to me. I drew up a petition, and - lying in wait one day for M. Forget, the King of Navarre’s secretary, - placed it in his hand, begging him to lay it before that prince. He took - it, and promised to do so, smoothly, and with as much lip-civility as I - had a right to expect. But the careless manner in which he doubled up and - thrust away the paper on which I had spent so much labour, no less than - the covert sneer of his valet, who ran after me to get the customary - present—and ran, as I still blush to remember, in vain—warned - me to refrain from hope. - </p> - <p> - In this, however, having little save hope left, I failed so signally as to - spend the next day and the day after in a fever of alternate confidence - and despair, the cold fit following the hot with perfect regularity. At - length, on the morning of the third day—I remember it lacked but - three of Christmas—I heard a step on the stairs. My landlord living - in his shop, and the two intervening floors being empty, I had no doubt - the message was for me, and went outside the door to receive it, my first - glance at the messenger confirming me in my highest hopes, as well as in - all I had ever heard of the generosity of the King of Navarre. For by - chance I knew the youth to be one of the royal pages; a saucy fellow who - had a day or two before cried ‘Old Clothes’ after me in the street. I was - very far from resenting this now, however, nor did he appear to recall it; - so that I drew the happiest augury as to the contents of the note he bore - from the politeness with which he presented it to me. - </p> - <p> - I would not, however, run the risk of a mistake, and before holding out my - hand, I asked him directly and with formality if it was for me. - </p> - <p> - He answered, with the utmost respect, that it was for the Sieur de Marsac, - and for me if I were he. - </p> - <p> - ‘There is an answer, perhaps?’ I said, seeing that he lingered. - </p> - <p> - ‘The King of Navarre, sir,’ he replied, with a low bow, ‘will receive your - answer in person, I believe.’ And with that, replacing the hat which he - had doffed out of respect to me, he turned and went down the stairs. - </p> - <p> - Returning to my room, and locking the door, I hastily opened the missive, - which was sealed with a large seal, and wore every appearance of - importance. I found its contents to exceed all my expectations. The King - of Navarre desired me to wait on him at noon on the following day, and the - letter concluded with such expressions of kindness and goodwill as left me - in no doubt of the Prince’s intentions. I read it, I confess, with - emotions of joy and gratitude which would better have become a younger - man, and then cheerfully sat down to spend the rest of the day in making - such improvements in my dress as seemed possible. With a thankful heart I - concluded that I had now escaped from poverty, at any rate from such - poverty as is disgraceful to a gentleman; and consoled myself for the - meanness of the appearance I must make at Court with the reflection that a - day or two would mend both habit and fortune. - </p> - <p> - Accordingly, it was with a stout heart that I left my lodgings a few - minutes before noon next morning, and walked towards the castle. It was - some time since I had made so public an appearance in the streets, which - the visit of the King of Navarre’s Court; had filled with an unusual - crowd, and I could not help fancying as I passed that some of the - loiterers eyed me with a covert smile; and, indeed, I was shabby enough. - But finding that a frown more than sufficed to restore the gravity of - these gentry, I set down the appearance to my own self-consciousness, and, - stroking my moustachios, strode along boldly until I saw before me, and - coming to meet me, the same page who had delivered the note. - </p> - <p> - He stopped in front of me with an air of consequence, and making me a low - bow—whereat I saw the bystanders stare, for he was as gay a young - spark as maid-of-honour could desire—he begged me to hasten, as the - king awaited me in his closet. - </p> - <p> - ‘He has asked for you twice, sir,’ he continued importantly, the feather - of his cap almost sweeping the ground. - </p> - <p> - ‘I think,’ I answered, quickening my steps, ‘that the king’s letter says - noon, young sir. If I am late on such an occasion, he has indeed cause to - complain of me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut!’ he rejoined waving his hand with a dandified ‘It is no matter. - One man may steal a horse when another may not look over the wall, you - know.’ - </p> - <p> - A man may be gray-haired, he may be sad-complexioned, and yet he may - retain some of the freshness of youth. On receiving this indication of a - favour exceeding all expectation, I remember I felt the blood rise to my - face, and experienced the most lively gratitude. I wondered who had spoken - in my behalf, who had befriended me; and concluding at last that my part - in the affair at Brouage had come to the king’s ears, though I could not - conceive through whom, I passed through the castle gates with an air of - confidence and elation which was not unnatural, I think, under the - circumstances. Thence, following my guide, I mounted the ramp and entered - the courtyard. - </p> - <p> - A number of grooms and valets were lounging here, some leading horses to - and fro, others exchanging jokes with the wenches who leaned from the - windows, while their fellows again stamped up and down to keep their feet - warm, or played ball against the wall in imitation of their masters. Such - knaves are ever more insolent than their betters; but I remarked that they - made way for me with respect, and with rising spirits, yet a little irony, - I reminded myself as I mounted the stairs of the words, ‘whom the king - delighteth to honour!’ - </p> - <p> - Reaching the head of the flight, where was a soldier on guard, the page - opened the door of the antechamber, and standing aside bade me enter. I - did so, and heard the door close behind me. - </p> - <p> - For a moment I stood still, bashful and confused. It seemed to me that - there were a hundred people in the room, and that half the eyes which met - mine were women’s, Though I was not altogether a stranger to such state as - the Prince of Conde had maintained, this crowded anteroom filled me with - surprise, and even with a degree of awe, of which I was the next moment - ashamed. True, the flutter of silk and gleam of jewels surpassed anything - I had then seen, for my fortunes had never led me to the king’s Court; but - an instant’s reflection reminded me that my fathers had held their own in - such scenes, and with a bow regulated rather by this thought than by the - shabbiness of my dress, I advanced amid a sudden silence. - </p> - <p> - ‘M. de Marsac!’ the page announced, in a tone which sounded a little odd - in my ears; so much so, that I turned quickly to look at him. He was gone, - however, and when I turned again the eyes which met mine were full of - smiles. A young girl who stood near me tittered. Put out of countenance by - this, I looked round in embarrassment to find someone to whom I might - apply. - </p> - <p> - The room was long and narrow, panelled in chestnut, with a row of windows - on the one hand, and two fireplaces, now heaped with glowing logs, on the - other. Between the fireplaces stood a rack of arms. Round the nearer - hearth lounged a group of pages, the exact counterparts of the young blade - who had brought me hither; and talking with these were as many young - gentlewomen. Two great hounds lay basking in the heat, and coiled between - them, with her head on the back of the larger, was a figure so strange - that at another time I should have doubted my eyes. It wore the fool’s - motley and cap and bells, but a second glance showed me the features were - a woman’s. A torrent of black hair flowed loose about her neck, her eyes - shone with wild merriment, and her face, keen, thin, and hectic, glared at - me from the dog’s back. Beyond her, round the farther fireplace, clustered - more than a score of gallants and ladies, of whom one presently advanced - to me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Sir,’ he said politely—and I wished I could match his bow—‘you - wished to see—?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The King of Navarre,’ I answered, doing my best. - </p> - <p> - He turned to the group behind him, and said, in a peculiarly even, placid - tone, ‘He wishes to see the King of Navarre.’ Then in solemn silence he - bowed to me again and went back to his fellows. - </p> - <p> - Upon the instant, and before I could make up my mind how to take this, a - second tripped forward, and saluting me, said, ‘M. de Marsac, I think?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘At your service, sir,’ I rejoined. In my eagerness to escape the gaze of - all those eyes, and the tittering which was audible behind me, I took a - step forward to be in readiness to follow him. But he gave no sign. ‘M. de - Marsac to see the King of Navarre’ was all he said, speaking as the other - had close to those behind. And with that he too wheeled round and went - back to the fire. - </p> - <p> - I stared, a first faint suspicion of the truth aroused in my mind. Before - I could act upon it, however—in such a situation it was no easy task - to decide how to act—a third advanced with the same measured steps. - ‘By appointment I think, sir?’ he said, bowing lower than the others. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ I replied sharply, beginning to grow warm, ‘by appointment at - noon.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘M. de Marsac,’ he announced in a sing-song tone to those behind him, ‘to - see the King of Navarre by appointment at noon.’ And with a second bow—while - I grew scarlet with mortification he too wheeled gravely round and - returned to the fireplace. - </p> - <p> - I saw another preparing to advance, but he came too late. Whether my face - of anger and bewilderment was too much for them, or some among them lacked - patience to see the end, a sudden uncontrollable shout of laughter, in - which all the room joined, cut short the farce. God knows it hurt me: I - winced, I looked this way and that, hoping here or there to find sympathy - and help. But it seemed to me that the place rang with gibes, that every - panel framed, however I turned myself, a cruel, sneering face. One behind - me cried ‘Old Clothes,’ and when I turned the other hearth whispered the - taunt. It added a thousandfold to my embarrassment that there was in all a - certain orderliness, so that while no one moved, and none, while I looked - at them, raised their voices, I seemed the more singled out, and placed as - a butt in the midst. - </p> - <p> - One face amid the pyramid of countenances which hid the farther fireplace - so burned itself into my recollection in that miserable moment, that I - never thereafter forgot it; a small, delicate woman’s face, belonging to a - young girl who stood boldly in front of her companions. It was a face full - of pride, and, as I saw it then, of scorn—scorn that scarcely - deigned to laugh; while the girl’s graceful figure, slight and maidenly, - yet perfectly proportioned, seemed instinct with the same feeling of - contemptuous amusement. - </p> - <p> - The play, which seemed long enough to me, might have lasted longer, seeing - that no one there had pity on me, had I not, in my desperation, espied a - door at the farther end of the room, and concluded, seeing no other, that - it was the door of the king’s bedchamber. The mortification I was - suffering was so great that I did not hesitate, but advanced with boldness - towards it. On the instant there was a lull in the laughter round me, and - half a dozen voices called on me to stop. - </p> - <p> - ‘I have come to see the king,’ I answered, turning on them fiercely, for I - was by this time in no mood for browbeating, ‘and I will see him!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He is out hunting,’ cried all with one accord; and they signed - imperiously to me to go back the way I had come. - </p> - <p> - But having the king’s appointment safe in my pouch, I thought I had good - reason to disbelieve them; and taking advantage of their surprise—for - they had not expected so bold a step on my part—I was at the door - before they could prevent me. I heard Mathurine, the fool, who had sprung - to her feet, cry ‘Pardieu! he will take the Kingdom of Heaven by force!’ - and those were the last words I heard; for, as I lifted the latch—there - was no one on guard there—a sudden swift silence fell upon the room - behind me. - </p> - <p> - I pushed the door gently open and went in. There were two men sitting in - one of the windows, who turned and looked angrily towards me. For the rest - the room was empty. The king’s walking-shoes lay by his chair, and beside - them the boot-hooks and jack. A dog before the fire got up slowly and - growled, and one of the men, rising from the trunk on which he had been - sitting, came towards me and asked me, with every sign of irritation, what - I wanted there, and who had given me leave to enter. - </p> - <p> - I was beginning to explain, with some diffidence the stillness of the room - sobering me—that I wished to see the king, when he who had advanced - took me up sharply with, ‘The king? the king? He is not here, man. He is - hunting at St. Valery. Did they not tell you so outside?’ - </p> - <p> - I thought I recognised the speaker, than whom I have seldom seen a man - more grave and thoughtful for his years, which were something less than - mine, more striking in presence, or more soberly dressed. And being - desirous to evade his question, I asked him if I had not the honour to - address M. du Plessis Mornay; for that wise and courtly statesman, now a - pillar of Henry’s counsels, it was. - </p> - <p> - ‘The same, sir,’ he replied, abruptly, and without taking his eyes from - me. ‘I am Mornay. What of that?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am M. de Marsac,’ I explained. And there I stopped, supposing that, as - he was in the king’s confidence, this would make my errand clear to him. - </p> - <p> - But I was disappointed. ‘Well, sir?’ he said, and waited impatiently. - </p> - <p> - So cold a reception, following such treatment as I had suffered outside, - would have sufficed to have dashed my spirits utterly had I not felt the - king’s letter in my pocket. Being pretty confident, however, that a single - glance at this would alter M. du Mornay’s bearing for the better, I - hastened, looking on it as a kind of talisman, to draw it out and present - it to him. - </p> - <p> - He took it, and looked at it, and opened it, but with so cold and - immovable an aspect as made my heart sink more than all that had gone - before. ‘What is amiss?’ I cried, unable to keep silence. ‘’Tis from the - king, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A king in motley!’ he answered, his lip curling. - </p> - <p> - The sense of his words did not at once strike home to me, and I murmured, - in great disorder, that the king had sent for me. - </p> - <p> - ‘The king knows nothing of it,’ was his blunt answer, bluntly given. And - he thrust the paper back into my hands. ‘It is a trick,’ he continued, - speaking with the same abruptness, ‘for which you have doubtless to thank - some of those idle young rascals without. You had sent an application to - the king, I suppose? Just so. No doubt they got hold of it, and this is - the result. They ought to be whipped.’ - </p> - <p> - It was not possible for me to doubt any longer that what he said was true. - I saw in a moment all my hopes vanish, all my plans flung to the winds; - and in the first shock of the discovery I could neither find voice to - answer him nor strength to withdraw. In a kind of vision I seemed to see - my own lean, haggard face looking at me as in a glass, and, reading - despair in my eyes, could have pitied myself. - </p> - <p> - My disorder was so great that M. du Mornay observed it. Looking more - closely at me, he two or three times muttered my name, and at last said, - ‘M. de Marsac? Ha! I remember. You were in the affair of Brouage, were you - not?’ - </p> - <p> - I nodded my head in token of assent, being unable at the moment to speak, - and so shaken that perforce I leaned against the wall, my head sunk on my - breast. The memory of my age, my forty years, and my poverty, pressed hard - upon me, filling me with despair and bitterness. I could have wept, but no - tears came. - </p> - <p> - M. du Mornay, averting his eyes from me, took two or three short, - impatient turns up and down the chamber when he addressed me again his - tone was full of respect, mingled with such petulance as one brave man - might feel, seeing another so hard pressed. ‘M. de Marsac,’ he said, ‘you - have my sympathy. It is a shame that men who have served the cause should - be reduced to such straits. Were it, possible for me, to increase my own - train at present, I should consider it an honour to have you with me. But - I am hard put to it myself, and so are we all, and the King of Navarre not - least among us. He has lived for a month upon a wood which M. de Rosny has - cut down. I will mention your name to him, but I should be cruel rather - than kind were I not to warn you that nothing can come of it.’ - </p> - <p> - With that he offered me his hand, and, cheered as much by this mark of - consideration as by the kindness of his expressions, I rallied my spirits. - True, I wanted comfort more substantial, but it was not to be had. I - thanked him therefore as becomingly as I could, and seeing there was no - help for it, took my leave of him, and slowly and sorrowfully withdrew - from the room. - </p> - <p> - Alas! to escape I had to face the outside world, for which his kind words - were an ill preparation. I had to run the gauntlet of the antechamber. The - moment I appeared, or rather the moment the door closed behind me, I was - hailed with a shout of derision. While one cried, ‘Way! way for the - gentleman who has seen the king!’ another hailed me uproariously as - Governor of Guyenne, and a third requested a commission in my regiment. - </p> - <p> - I heard these taunts with a heart full almost to bursting. It seemed to me - an unworthy thing that, merely by reason of my poverty, I should be - derided by youths who had still all their battles before them; but to stop - or reproach them would only, as I well knew, make matters worse, and, - moreover, I was so sore stricken that I had little spirit left even to - speak. Accordingly, I made my way through them with what speed I might, my - head bent, and my countenance heavy with shame and depression. In this way—I - wonder there were not among them some generous enough to pity me—I - had nearly gained the door, and was beginning to breathe, when I found my - path stopped by that particular young lady of the Court whom I have - described above. Something had for the moment diverted her attention from - me, and it required a word from her companions to apprise her of my near - neighbourhood. She turned then, as one taken by surprise, and finding me - so close to her that my feet all but touched her gown, she stepped quickly - aside, and with a glance as cruel as her act, drew her skirts away from - contact with me. - </p> - <p> - The insult stung me, I know not why, more than all the gibes which were - being flung at me from every side, and moved by a sudden impulse I - stopped, and in the bitterness of my heart spoke to her. ‘Mademoiselle,’ I - said, bowing low—for, as I have stated, she was small, and more like - a fairy than a woman, though her face expressed both pride and self-will—‘Mademoiselle,’ - I said sternly, ‘such as I am, I have fought for France! Some day you may - learn that there are viler things in the world—and have to bear them—than - a poor gentleman!’ - </p> - <p> - The words were scarcely out of my mouth before I repented of them, for - Mathurine, the fool, who was at my elbow, was quick to turn them into - ridicule. Raising her hands above our heads, as in act to bless us, she - cried out that Monsieur, having gained so rich an office, desired a bride - to grace it; and this, bringing down upon us a coarse shout of laughter - and some coarser gibes, I saw the young girl’s face flush hotly. - </p> - <p> - The next moment a voice in the crowd cried roughly ‘Out upon his wedding - suit!’ and with that a sweetmeat struck me in the face. Another and - another followed, covering me with flour and comfits. This was the last - straw. For a moment, forgetting where I was, I turned upon them, red and - furious, every hair in my moustachios bristling. The next, the full sense - of my impotence and of the folly of resentment prevailed with me, and, - dropping my head upon my breast, I rushed from the room. - </p> - <p> - I believe that the younger among them followed me, and that the cry of - ‘Old Clothes!’ pursued me even to the door of my lodgings in the Rue de la - Coutellerie. But in the misery of the moment, and my strong desire to be - within doors and alone, I barely noticed this, and am not certain whether - it was so or not. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II. THE KING OF NAVARRE. - </h2> - <p> - I have already referred to the danger with which the alliance between - Henry the Third and the League menaced us, an alliance whereof the news, - it was said, had blanched the King of Navarre’s moustache in a single - night. Notwithstanding this, the Court had never shown itself more - frolicsome or more free from care than at the time of which I am speaking; - even the lack of money seemed for the moment forgotten. One amusement - followed another, and though, without doubt, something was doing under the - surface for the wiser of his foes held our prince in particular dread when - he seemed most deeply sunk in pleasure—to the outward eye St. Jean - d’Angely appeared to be given over to enjoyment from one end to the other. - </p> - <p> - The stir and bustle of the Court reached me even in my garret, and - contributed to make that Christmas, which fell on a Sunday, a trial almost - beyond sufferance. All day long the rattle of hoofs on the pavement, and - the laughter of riders bent on diversion, came up to me, making the hard - stool seem harder, the bare walls more bare, and increasing a hundredfold - the solitary gloom in which I sat. For as sunshine deepens the shadows - which fall athwart it, and no silence is like that which follows the - explosion of a mine, so sadness and poverty are never more intolerable - than when hope and wealth rub elbows with them. - </p> - <p> - True, the great sermon which M. d’Amours preached in the market-house on - the morning of Christmas-day cheered me, as it cheered all the more sober - spirits. I was present myself, sitting in an obscure corner of the - building, and heard the famous prediction, which was so soon to be - fulfilled. ‘Sire,’ said the preacher, turning to the King of Navarre, and - referring, with the boldness that ever characterised that great man and - noble Christian, to the attempt, then being made to exclude the prince - from the succession—‘Sire, what God at your birth gave you man - cannot take away. A little while, a little patience, and you shall cause - us to preach beyond the Loire! With you for our Joshua we shall cross the - Jordan, and in the Promised Land the Church shall be set up.’ - </p> - <p> - Words so brave, and so well adapted to encourage the Huguenots in the - crisis through which their affairs were then passing, charmed all hearers; - save indeed, those—and they were few—who, being devoted to the - Vicomte de Turenne, disliked, though they could not controvert, this - public acknowledgment of the King of Navarre, as the Huguenot leader. The - pleasure of those present was evinced in a hundred ways, and to such an - extent that even I returned to my chamber soothed and exalted, and found, - in dreaming of the speedy triumph of the cause, some compensation for my - own ill-fortune. - </p> - <p> - As the day wore on, however, and the evening brought no change, but - presented to me the same dreary prospect with which morning had made me - familiar, I confess without shame that my heart sank once more, - particularly as I saw that I should be forced in a day or two to sell - either my remaining horse or some part of my equipment as essential; a - step which I could not contemplate without feelings of the utmost despair. - In this state of mind I was adding up by the light of a solitary candle - the few coins I had left, when I heard footsteps ascending the stairs. I - made them out to be the steps of two persons, and was still lost in - conjectures who they might be, when a hand knocked gently at my door. - </p> - <p> - Fearing another trick, I did not at once open, the more so there was - something stealthy and insinuating in the knock. Thereupon my visitors - held a whispered consultation; then they knocked again. I asked loudly who - was there, but to this they did not choose to give any answer, while I, on - my part, determined not to open until they did. The door was strong, and I - smiled grimly at the thought that this time they would have their trouble - for their pains. - </p> - <p> - To my surprise, however, they did not desist, and go away, as I expected, - but continued to knock at intervals and whisper much between times. More - than once they called me softly by name and bade me open, but as they - steadily refrained from saying who they were, I sat still. Occasionally I - heard them laugh, but under their breath as it were; and persuaded by this - that they were bent on a frolic, I might have persisted in my silence - until midnight, which was not more than two hours off, had not a slight - sound, as of a rat gnawing behind the wainscot, drawn my attention to the - door. Raising my candle and shading my eyes I espied something small and - bright protruding beneath it, and sprang up, thinking they were about to - prise it in. To my surprise, however, I could discover, on taking the - candle to the threshold, nothing more threatening than a couple of gold - livres, which had been thrust through the crevice between the door and the - floor. - </p> - <p> - My astonishment may be conceived. I stood for full a minute staring at the - coins, the candle in my hand. Then, reflecting that the young sparks at - the Court would be very unlikely to spend such a sum on a jest, I - hesitated no longer, but putting down the candle, drew the bolt of the - door, purposing to confer with my visitors outside. In this, however, I - was disappointed, for the moment the door was open they pushed forcibly - past me and, entering the room pell-mell, bade me by signs to close the - door again. - </p> - <p> - I did so suspiciously, and without averting my eyes from my visitors. - Great were my embarrassment and confusion, therefore, when, the door being - shut, they dropped their cloaks one after the other, and I saw before me - M. du Mornay and the well-known figure of the King of Navarre. - </p> - <p> - They seemed so much diverted, looking at one another and laughing, that - for a moment I thought some chance resemblance deceived me, and that here - were my jokers again. Hence while a man might count ten I stood staring; - and the king was the first to speak. ‘We have made no mistake, Du Mornay, - have we?’ he said, casting a laughing glance at me. - </p> - <p> - ‘No, sire,’ Du Mornay answered. ‘This is the Sieur de Marsac, the - gentleman whom I mentioned to you.’ - </p> - <p> - I hastened, confused, wondering, and with a hundred apologies, to pay my - respects to the king. He speedily cut me short, however, saying, with an - air of much kindness, ‘Of Marsac, in Brittany, I think, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The same, sire,’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then you are of the family of Bonne?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am the last survivor of that family, sire,’ I answered respectfully. - </p> - <p> - ‘It has played its part,’ he rejoined, and therewith he took his seat on - my stool with an easy grace which charmed me. ‘Your motto is “BONNE FOI,” - is it not? And Marsac, if I remember rightly, is not far from Rennes, on - the Vilaine?’ - </p> - <p> - I answered that it was, adding, with a full heart, that it grieved me to - be compelled to receive so great a prince in so poor a lodging. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, I confess,’ Du Mornay struck in, looking carelessly round him, ‘you - have a queer taste, M. de Marsac, in the arrangement of your furniture. - You—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mornay!’ the king cried sharply. - </p> - <p> - ‘Sire?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Chut! your elbow is in the candle. Beware of it!’ - </p> - <p> - But I well understood him. If my heart had been full before, it overflowed - now. Poverty is not so shameful as the shifts to which it drives men. I - had been compelled some days before, in order to make as good a show as - possible—since it is the undoubted duty of a gentleman to hide his - nakedness from impertinent eyes, and especially from the eyes of the - canaille, who are wont to judge from externals—to remove such of my - furniture and equipage as remained to that side of the room, which was - visible from without when the door was open. This left the farther side of - the room vacant and bare. To anyone within doors the artifice was, of - course, apparent, and I am bound to say that M. de Mornay’s words brought - the blood to my brow. - </p> - <p> - I rejoiced, however a moment later that he had uttered them; for without - them I might never have known, or known so early, the kindness of heart - and singular quickness of apprehension which ever distinguished the king, - my master. So, in my heart, I began to call him from that hour. - </p> - <p> - The King of Navarre was at this time thirty-five years old, his hair - brown, his complexion ruddy, his moustache, on one side at least, - beginning to turn grey. His features, which Nature had cast in a harsh and - imperious mould, were relieved by a constant sparkle and animation such as - I have never seen in any other man, but in him became ever more - conspicuous in gloomy and perilous times. Inured to danger from his - earliest youth, he had come to enjoy it as others a festival, hailing its - advent with a reckless gaiety which astonished even brave men, and led - others to think him the least prudent of mankind. Yet such he was not: - nay, he was the opposite of this. Never did Marshal of France make more - careful dispositions for a battle—albeit once in it he bore himself - like any captain of horse—nor ever did Du Mornay himself sit down to - a conference with a more accurate knowledge of affairs. His prodigious wit - and the affability of his manners, while they endeared him to his - servants, again and again blinded his adversaries; who, thinking that so - much brilliance could arise only from a shallow nature, found when it was - too late that they had been outwitted by him whom they contemptuously - styled the Prince of Bearn, a man a hundredfold more astute than - themselves, and master alike of pen and sword. - </p> - <p> - Much of this, which all the world now knows, I learned afterwards. At the - moment I could think of little save the king’s kindness; to which he added - by insisting that I should sit on the bed while we talked. ‘You wonder, M. - de Marsac,’ he said, ‘what brings me here, and why I have come to you - instead of sending for you? Still more, perhaps, why I have come to you at - night and with such precautions? I will tell you. But first, that my - coming may not fill you with false hopes, let me say frankly, that though - I may relieve your present necessities, whether you fall into the plan I - am going to mention, or not, I cannot take you into my service; wherein, - indeed, every post is doubly filled. Du Mornay mentioned your name to me, - but in fairness to others I had to answer that I could do nothing.’ - </p> - <p> - I am bound to confess that this strange exordium dashed hopes which had - already risen to a high pitch. Recovering myself as quickly as possible, - however, I murmured that the honour of a visit from the King of Navarre - was sufficient happiness for me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, but that honour I must take from you’ he replied, smiling; ‘though I - see that you would make an excellent courtier—far better than Du - Mornay here, who never in his life made so pretty a speech. For I must lay - my commands on you to keep this visit a secret, M. de Marsac. Should but - the slightest whisper of it get abroad, your usefulness, as far as I am - concerned, would be gone, and gone for good!’ - </p> - <p> - So remarkable a statement filled me with wonder I could scarcely disguise. - It was with difficulty I found words to assure the king that his commands - should be faithfully obeyed. - </p> - <p> - ‘Of that I am sure,’ he answered with the utmost kindness. ‘Where I not, - and sure, too, from what I am told of your gallantry when my cousin took - Brouage, that you are a man of deeds rather than words, I should not be - here with the proposition I am going to lay before you. It is this. I can - give you no hope of public employment, M. de Marsac, but I can offer you - an adventure if adventures be to your taste—as dangerous and as - thankless as any Amadis ever undertook.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘As thankless, sire?’ I stammered, doubting if I had heard aright, the - expression was so strange. - </p> - <p> - ‘As thankless,’ he answered, his keen eyes seeming to read my soul. ‘I am - frank with you, you see, sir,’ he continued, carelessly. ‘I can suggest - this adventure—it is for the good of the State—I can do no - more. The King of Navarre cannot appear in it, nor can he protect you. - Succeed or fail in it, you stead alone. The only promise I make is, that - if it ever be safe for me to acknowledge the act, I will reward the doer.’ - </p> - <p> - He paused, and for a few moments I stared at him in sheer amazement. What - did he mean? Were he and the other real figures, or was I dreaming? - </p> - <p> - ‘Do you understand?’ he asked at length, with a touch of impatience. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, sire, I think I do,’ I murmured, very certain in truth and reality - that I did not. - </p> - <p> - ‘What do you say, then—yes or no?’ he rejoined. ‘Will you undertake - the adventure, or would you hear more before you make up your mind?’ - </p> - <p> - I hesitated. Had I been a younger man by ten years I should doubtless have - cried assent there and then, having been all my life ready enough to - embark on such enterprises as offered a chance of distinction. But - something in the strangeness of the king’s preface, although I had it in - my heart to die for him, gave me check, and I answered, with an air of - great humility, ‘You will think me but a poor courtier now, sire, yet he - is a fool who jumps into a ditch without measuring the depth. I would - fain, if I may say it without disrespect, hear all that you can tell me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then I fear,’ he answered quickly, ‘if you would have more light on the - matter, my friend, you must get another candle.’ - </p> - <p> - I started, he spoke so abruptly; but perceiving that the candle had indeed - burned down to the socket, I rose, with many apologies, and fetched - another from the cupboard. It did not occur to me at the moment, though it - did later, that the king had purposely sought this opportunity of - consulting with his companion. I merely remarked, when I returned to my - place on the bed, that they were sitting a little nearer one another, and - that the king eyed me before he spoke—though he still swung one foot - carelessly in the air with close attention. - </p> - <p> - ‘I speak to you, of course, sir,’ he presently went on, ‘in confidence, - believing you to be an honourable as well as a brave man. That which I - wish you to do is briefly, and in a word, to carry off a lady. Nay,’ he - added quickly, with a laughing grimace, ‘have no fear! She is no - sweetheart of mine, nor should I go to my grave friend here did I need - assistance of that kind. Henry of Bourbon, I pray God, will always be able - to free his own lady-love. This is a State affair, and a matter of quite - another character, though we cannot at present entrust you with the - meaning of it.’ - </p> - <p> - I bowed in silence, feeling somewhat chilled and perplexed, as who would - not, having such an invitation before him? I had anticipated an affair - with men only—a secret assault or a petard expedition. But seeing - the bareness of my room, and the honour the king was doing me, I felt I - had no choice, and I answered, ‘That being the case, sire, I am wholly at - your service.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That is well,’ he, answered briskly, though methought he looked at Du - Mornay reproachfully, as doubting his commendation of me. ‘But will you - say the same,’ he continued, removing his eyes to me, and speaking slowly, - as though he would try me, ‘when I tell you that the lady to be carried - off is the ward of the Vicomte de Turenne, whose arm is well-nigh as long - as my own, and who would fain make it longer; who never travels, as he - told me yesterday, with less than fifty gentlemen, and has a thousand - arquebusiers in his pay? Is the adventure still to your liking, M. de - Marsac, now that you know that?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is more to my liking, sire,’ I answered stoutly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Understand this too,’ he rejoined. ‘It is essential that this lady, who - is at present confined in the Vicomte’s house at Chize, should be - released; but it is equally essential that there should be no breach - between the Vicomte and myself. Therefore the affair must be the work of - an independent man, who has never been in my service, nor in any way - connected with me. If captured, you pay the penalty without recourse to - me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I fully understand, sire,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ventre Saint Gris!’ he cried, breaking into a low laugh. I swear the man - is more afraid of the lady than he is of the Vicomte! That is not the way - of most of our Court.’ - </p> - <p> - Du Mornay, who had been sitting nursing his knee in silence, pursed up his - lips, though it was easy to see that he was well content with the king’s - approbation. He now intervened. ‘With your permission, sire,’ he said, ‘I - will let this gentleman know the details.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Do, my friend,’ the king answered. ‘And be short, for if we are here much - longer I shall be missed, and in a twinkling the Court will have found me - a new mistress.’ - </p> - <p> - He spoke in jest and with a laugh, but I saw Du Mornay start at the words, - as though they were little to his liking; and I learned afterwards that - the Court was really much exercised at this time with the question who - would be the next favourite, the king’s passion for the Countess de la - Guiche being evidently on the wane, and that which he presently evinced - for Madame de Guercheville being as yet a matter of conjecture. - </p> - <p> - Du Mornay took no overt notice of the king’s words, however, but proceeded - to give me my directions. ‘Chize, which you know by name,’ he said, ‘is - six leagues from here. Mademoiselle de la Vire is confined in the - north-west room, on the first-floor, overlooking the park. More I cannot - tell you, except that her woman’s name is Fanchette, and that she is to be - trusted. The house is well guarded, and you will need four or five men, - There are plenty of cut-throats to be hired, only see, M. de Marsac, that - they are such as you can manage, and that Mademoiselle takes no hurt among - them. Have horses in waiting, and the moment; you have released the lady - ride north with her as fast as her strength will permit. Indeed, you must - not spare her, if Turenne be on your heels. You should be across the Loire - in sixty hours after leaving Chize.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Across the Loire?’ I exclaimed in astonishment. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, sir, across the Loire,’ he replied, with some sternness. ‘Your task, - be good enough to understand, is to convoy Mademoiselle de la Vire with - all speed to Blois. There, attracting as little notice as may be, you will - inquire for the Baron de Rosny at the Bleeding Heart, in the Rue de St. - Denys. He will take charge of the lady, or direct you how to dispose of - her, and your task will then be accomplished. You follow me?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Perfectly,’ I answered, speaking in my turn with some dryness. ‘But - Mademoiselle I understand is young. What if she will not accompany me, a - stranger, entering her room at night, and by the window?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That has been thought of’ was the answer. He turned to the King of - Navarre, who, after a moment’s search, produced a small object from his - pouch. This he gave to his companion, and the latter transferred it to me. - I took it with curiosity. It was the half of a gold carolus, the broken - edge of the coin being rough and jagged. ‘Show that to Mademoiselle, my - friend,’ Du Mornay continued, ‘and she will accompany you. She has the - other half.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But be careful,’ Henry added eagerly, ‘to make no mention, even to her, - of the King of Navarre. You mark me, M. de Marsac! If you have at any time - occasion to speak of me, you may have the honour of calling me YOUR - FRIEND, and referring to me always in the same manner.’ - </p> - <p> - This he said with so gracious an air that I was charmed, and thought - myself happy indeed to be addressed in this wise by a prince whose name - was already so glorious. Nor was my satisfaction diminished when his - companion drew out a bag containing, as he told me, three hundred crowns - in gold, and placed it in my hands, bidding me defray therefrom the cost - of the journey. ‘Be careful, however,’ he added earnestly, ‘to avoid, in - hiring your men, any appearance of wealth, lest the adventure seem to be - suggested by some outside person; instead of being dictated by the - desperate state of your own fortunes. Promise rather than give, so far as - that will avail. And for what you must give, let each livre seem to be the - last in your pouch.’ - </p> - <p> - Henry nodded assent. ‘Excellent advice!’ he muttered, rising and drawing - on his cloak, ‘such as you ever give me, Mornay, and I as seldom take—more’s - the pity! But, after all, of little avail without this.’ He lifted my - sword from the table as he spoke, and weighed it in his hand. ‘A pretty - tool,’ he continued, turning suddenly and looking me very closely in the - face. ‘A very pretty tool. Were I in your place, M. de Marsac, I would see - that it hung loose in the scabbard. Ay, and more, man, use it!’ he added, - sinking his voice and sticking out his chin, while his grey eyes, looking - ever closer into mine, seemed to grow cold and hard as steel. ‘Use it to - the last, for if you fall into Turenne’s hands, God help you! I cannot!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If I am taken, sire,’ I answered, trembling, but not with fear, ‘my fate - be on my own head.’ - </p> - <p> - I saw the king’s eyes soften, at that, and his face change so swiftly that - I scarce knew him for the same man. He let the weapon drop with a clash on - the table. ‘Ventre Saint Gris!’ he exclaimed with a strange thrill of - yearning in his tone. ‘I swear by God, I would I were in your shoes, sir. - To strike a blow or two with no care what came of it. To take the road - with a good horse and a good sword, and see what fortune would send. To be - rid of all this statecraft and protocolling, and never to issue another - declaration in this world, but just to be for once a Gentleman of France, - with all to win and nothing to lose save the love of my lady! Ah! Mornay, - would it not be sweet to leave all this fret and fume, and ride away to - the green woods by Coarraze?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Certainly, if you prefer them to the Louvre, sire,’ Du Mornay answered - drily; while I stood, silent and amazed, before this strange man, who - could so suddenly change from grave to gay, and one moment spoke so - sagely, and the next like any wild lad in his teens. ‘Certainly,’ he - answered, ‘if that be your choice, sire; and if you think that even there - the Duke of Guise will leave you in peace. Turenne, I am sure, will be - glad to hear of your decision. Doubtless he will be elected Protector of - the Churches. Nay, sire, for shame!’ Du Mornay continued almost with - sternness. ‘Would you leave France, which at odd times I have heard you - say you loved, to shift for herself? Would you deprive her of the only man - who does love her for her own sake?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, well, but she is such a fickle sweetheart, my friend,’ the king - answered, laughing, the side glance of his eye on me. ‘Never was one so - coy or so hard to clip! And, besides, has not the Pope divorced us?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The Pope! A fig for the Pope!’ Du Mornay rejoined with impatient heat. - ‘What has he to do with France? An impertinent meddler, and an Italian to - boot! I would he and all the brood of them were sunk a hundred fathoms - deep in the sea. But, meantime, I would send him a text to digest.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘EXEMPLUM?’ said the king. - </p> - <p> - ‘Whom God has joined together let no man put asunder.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Amen! quoth Henry softly. ‘And France is a fair and comely bride.’ - </p> - <p> - After that he kept such a silence, falling as it seemed to me into a brown - study, that he went away without so much as bidding me farewell, or being - conscious, as far as I could tell, of my presence. Du Mornay exchanged a - few words with me, to assure himself that I understood what I had to do, - and then, with many kind expressions, which I did not fail to treasure up - and con over in the times that were coming, hastened downstairs after his - master. - </p> - <p> - My joy when I found myself alone may be conceived. Yet was it no ecstasy, - but a sober exhilaration; such as stirred my pulses indeed, and bade me - once more face the world with a firm eye and an assured brow, but was far - from holding out before me a troubadour’s palace or any dazzling prospect. - The longer I dwelt on the interview, the more clearly I saw the truth. As - the glamour which Henry’s presence and singular kindness had cast over me - began to lose some of its power, I recognised more and more surely why he - had come to me. It was not out of any special favour for one whom he knew - by report only, if at all by name; but because he had need of a man poor, - and therefore reckless, middle-aged (of which comes discretion), obscure—therefore - a safe instrument; to crown all, a gentleman, seeing that both a secret - and a women were in question. - </p> - <p> - Withal I wondered too. Looking from the bag of money on the table to the - broken coin in my hand, I scarcely knew which to admire more: the - confidence which entrusted the one to a man broken and beggared, or the - courage of the gentlewoman who should accompany me on the faith of the - other. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III. BOOT AND SADDLE. - </h2> - <p> - As was natural, I meditated deeply and far into the night on the - difficulties of the task, entrusted to me. I saw that it fell into two - parts: the release of the lady, and her safe conduct to Blois, a distance - of sixty leagues. The release I thought it probable I could effect - single-handed, or with one companion only; but in the troubled condition - of the country at this time, more particularly on both sides of the Loire, - I scarcely saw how I could ensure a lady’s safety on the road northwards - unless I had with me at least five swords. - </p> - <p> - To get these together at a few hours’ notice promised to be no easy task; - although the presence of the Court of Navarre had filled St. Jean with a - crowd of adventurers. Yet the king’s command was urgent, and at some - sacrifice, even at some risk, must be obeyed. Pressed by these - considerations, I could think of no better man to begin with than Fresnoy. - </p> - <p> - His character was bad, and he had long forfeited such claim as he had ever - possessed—I believe it was a misty one, on the distaff side—to - gentility. But the same cause which had rendered me destitute I mean the - death of the prince of Conde—had stripped him to the last rag; and - this, perhaps, inclining me to serve him, I was the more quick to see his - merits. I knew him already for a hardy, reckless man, very capable of - striking a shrewd blow. I gave him credit for being trusty, as long as his - duty jumped with his interest. - </p> - <p> - Accordingly, as soon as it was light, having fed and groomed the Cid, - which was always the first employment of my day, I set out in search of - Fresnoy, and was presently lucky enough to find him taking his morning - draught outside the ‘Three Pigeons,’ a little inn not far from the north - gate. It was more than a fortnight since I had set eyes on him, and the - lapse of time had worked so great a change for the worse in him that, - forgetting my own shabbiness, I looked at him askance, as doubting the - wisdom of enlisting one who bore so plainly the marks of poverty and - dissipation. His great face—he was a large man—had suffered - recent ill-usage, and was swollen and discoloured, one eye being as good - as closed. He was unshaven, his hair was ill-kempt, his doublet unfastened - at the throat, and torn and stained besides. Despite the cold—for - the morning was sharp and frosty, though free from wind—there were - half a dozen packmen drinking and squabbling before the inn, while the - beasts they drove quenched their thirst at the trough. But these men - seemed with one accord to leave him in possession of the bench at which he - sat; nor did I wonder much at this when I saw the morose and savage glance - which he shot at me as I approached. Whether he read my first impressions - in my face, or for some other reason felt distaste for my company, I could - not determine. But, undeterred by his behaviour, I sat down beside him and - called for wine. - </p> - <p> - He nodded sulkily in answer to my greeting, and cast a half-shamed, - half-angry look at me out of the corners of his eyes. ‘You need not look - at me as though I were a dog,’ he muttered presently. ‘You are not so very - spruce yourself, my friend. But I suppose you have grown proud since you - got that fat appointment at Court!’ And he laughed out loud, so that I - confess I was in two minds whether I should not force the jest down his - ugly throat. - </p> - <p> - However I restrained myself, though my cheeks burned. ‘You have heard - about it, then,’ I said, striving to speak indifferently. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who has not?’ he said, laughing with his lips, though his eyes were far - from merry. ‘The Sieur de Marsac’s appointment! Ha! ha! Why, man—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Enough of it now!’ I exclaimed. And I dare say I writhed on my seat. ‘As - far as I am concerned the jest is a stale one, sir, and does not amuse - me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But it amuses me,’ he rejoined with a grin. - </p> - <p> - ‘Let it be, nevertheless,’ I said; and I think he read a warning in my - eyes. ‘I have come to speak to you upon another matter.’ - </p> - <p> - He did not refuse to listen, but threw one leg over the other, and looking - up at the inn-sign began to whistle in a rude, offensive manner. Still, - having an object in view, I controlled myself and continued. ‘It is this, - my friend: money is not very plentiful at present with either of us.’ - </p> - <p> - Before I could say any more he turned on me savagely, and with a loud oath - thrust his bloated face, flushed with passion, close to mine. ‘Now look - here, M. de Marsac!’ he cried violently, ‘once for all, it is no good! I - have not got the money, and I cannot pay it. I said a fortnight ago, when - you lent it, that you should have it this week. Well,’ slapping his hand - on the bench, I have not got it, and it is no good beginning upon me. You - cannot have it, and that is flat!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Damn the money!’ I cried. - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ he exclaimed, scarcely believing his ears. - </p> - <p> - ‘Let the money be!’ I repeated fiercely. ‘Do you hear? I have not come - about it, I am here to offer you work—good, well-paid work—if - you will enlist with me and play me fair, Fresnoy.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Play fair!’ he cried with an oath. - </p> - <p> - ‘There, there,’ I said, ‘I am willing to let bygones be bygones if you - are. The point is, that I have an adventure on hand, and, wanting help, - can pay you for it.’ - </p> - <p> - He looked at me cunningly, His eye travelling over each rent and darn in - my doublet. ‘I will help you fast enough,’ he said at last. ‘But I should - like to see the money first.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You shall,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then I am with you, my friend. Count on me till death!’ he cried, rising - and laying his hand in mine with a boisterous frankness which did not - deceive me into trusting him far. ‘And now, whose is the affair, and what - is it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The affair is mine,’ I said coldly. ‘It is to carry off a lady.’ - </p> - <p> - He whistled and looked me over again, an impudent leer in his eyes. ‘A - lady?’ he exclaimed. ‘Umph! I could understand a young spark going in for - such—but that’s your affair. Who is it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That is my affair, too,’ I answered coolly, disgusted by the man’s - venality and meanness, and fully persuaded that I must trust him no - farther than the length of my sword. ‘All I want you to do, M. Fresnoy,’ I - continued stiffly, ‘is to place yourself at my disposal and under my - orders for ten days. I will find you a horse and pay you—the - enterprise is a hazardous one, and I take that into account—two gold - crowns a day, and ten more if we succeed in reaching a place of safety.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Such a place as—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Never mind that,’ I replied. ‘The question is, do you accept?’ - </p> - <p> - He looked down sullenly, and I could see he was greatly angered by my - determination to keep the matter to myself. ‘Am I to know no more than - that?’ he asked, digging the point of his scabbard again and again into - the ground. - </p> - <p> - ‘No more,’ I answered firmly. ‘I am bent on a desperate attempt to mend my - fortunes before they fall as low as yours; and that is as much as I mean - to tell living man. If you are loth to risk your life with your eyes shut, - say so, and I will go to someone else.’ - </p> - <p> - But he was not in a position, as I well knew, to refuse such an offer, and - presently he accepted it with a fresh semblance of heartiness. I told him - I should want four troopers to escort us, and these he offered to procure, - saying that he knew just the knaves to suit me. I bade him hire two only, - however, being too wise, to put myself altogether in his hands; and then, - having given him money to buy himself a horse—I made it a term that - the men should bring their own—and named a rendezvous for the first - hour after noon, I parted from him and went rather sadly away. - </p> - <p> - For I began to see that the king had not underrated the dangers of an - enterprise on which none but desperate men and such as were down in the - world could be expected to embark. Seeing this, and also a thing which - followed clearly from it—that I should have as much to fear from my - own company as from the enemy—I looked forward with little hope to a - journey during every day and every hour of which I must bear a growing - weight of fear and responsibility. - </p> - <p> - It was too late to turn back, however, and I went about my preparations, - if with little cheerfulness, at least with steadfast purpose. I had my - sword ground and my pistols put in order by the cutler over whom I lodged, - and who performed this last office for me with the same goodwill which had - characterised, all his dealings with me. I sought out and hired a couple - of stout fellows whom I believed to be indifferently honest, but who - possessed the advantage of having horses; and besides bought two led - horses myself for mademoiselle and her woman. Such other equipments as - were absolutely necessary I purchased, reducing my stock of money in this - way to two hundred and ten crowns. How to dispose of this sum so that it - might be safe and yet at my command was a question which greatly exercised - me. In the end I had recourse to my friend the cutler, who suggested - hiding a hundred crowns of it in my cap, and deftly contrived a place for - the purpose. This, the cap being lined with steel, was a matter of no - great difficulty. A second hundred I sewed up in the stuffing of my - saddle, placing the remainder in my pouch for present necessities. - </p> - <p> - A small rain was falling in the streets when, a little after noon, I - started with my two knaves behind me and made for the north gate. So many - were moving this way and the other that we passed unnoticed, and might - have done so had we numbered six swords instead of three. When we reached - the rendezvous, a mile beyond the gate, we found Fresnoy already there, - taking shelter in the lee of a big holly-tree. He had four horsemen with - him, and on our appearance rode forward to meet us, crying heartily, - ‘Welcome, M. le Capitaine!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Welcome, certainly,’ I answered, pulling the Cid up sharply, and holding - off from him. ‘But who are these, M. Fresnoy?’ and I pointed with my - riding-cane to his four companions. - </p> - <p> - He tried to pass the matter off with a laugh. ‘Oh! these?’ he said. ‘That - is soon explained. The Evangelists would not be divided, so I brought them - all—Matthew Mark, Luke, and John—thinking it likely you might - fail to secure your men. And I will warrant them for four as gallant boys - as you will ever find behind you!’ - </p> - <p> - They were certainly four as arrant ruffians as I had ever seen before me, - and I saw I must not hesitate. ‘Two or none, M. Fresnoy,’ I said firmly. - ‘I gave you a commission for two, and two I will take—Matthew and - Mark, or Luke and John, as you please.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘’Tis a pity to break the party,’ said he, scowling. - </p> - <p> - ‘If that be all,’ I retorted, ‘one of my men is called John. And we will - dub the other Luke, if that will mend the matter.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The Prince of Conde,’ he muttered sullenly, ‘employed these men.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The Prince of Conde employed some queer people sometimes, M. Fresnoy,’ I - answered, looking him straight between the eyes, ‘as we all must. A truce - to this, if you please. We will take Matthew and Mark. The other two be - good enough to dismiss.’ - </p> - <p> - He seemed to waver for a moment, as if he had a mind to disobey, but in - the end, thinking better of it, he bade the men return; and as I - complimented each of them with a piece of silver, they went off, after - some swearing, in tolerably good humour. Thereon Fresnoy was for taking - the road at once, but having no mind to be followed, I gave the word to - wait until the two were out of sight. - </p> - <p> - I think, as we sat our horses in the rain, the holly-bush not being large - enough to shelter us all, we were as sorry a band as ever set out to - rescue a lady; nor was it without pain that I looked round and saw myself - reduced to command such people. There was scarcely one whole unpatched - garment among us, and three of my squires had but a spur apiece. To make - up for this deficiency we mustered two black eyes, Fresnoy’s included, and - a broken nose. Matthew’s nag lacked a tail, and, more remarkable still, - its rider, as I presently discovered, was stone-deaf; while Mark’s sword - was innocent of a scabbard, and his bridle was plain rope. One thing, - indeed, I observed with pleasure. The two men who had come with me looked - askance at the two who had come with Fresnoy, and these returned the stare - with interest. On this division and on the length of my sword I based all - my hopes of safety and of something more. On it I was about to stake, not - my own life only—which was no great thing, seeing what my prospects - were—but the life and honour of a woman, young, helpless, and as yet - unknown to me. - </p> - <p> - Weighed down as I was by these considerations, I had to bear the - additional burden of hiding my fears and suspicions under a cheerful - demeanour. I made a short speech to my following, who one and all - responded by swearing to stand by me to the death. I then gave the word, - and we started, Fresnoy and I leading the way, Luke and John with the led - horses following, and the other two bringing up the rear. - </p> - <p> - The rain continuing to fall and the country in this part being dreary and - monotonous, even in fair weather, I felt my spirits sink still lower as - the day advanced. The responsibility I was going to incur assumed more - serious proportions each time I scanned my following; while Fresnoy, - plying me with perpetual questions respecting my plans, was as uneasy a - companion as my worst enemy could have wished me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Come!’ he grumbled presently, when we had covered four leagues or so, - ‘you have not told me yet, sieur, where we stay to-night. You are - travelling so slowly that—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am saving the horses,’ I answered shortly. ‘We shall do a long day - to-morrow.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yours looks fit for a week of days,’ he sneered, with an evil look at my - Sardinian, which was, indeed, in better case than its master. ‘It is sleek - enough, any way!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is as good as it looks,’ I answered, a little nettled by his tone. - </p> - <p> - ‘There is a better here,’ he responded. - </p> - <p> - ‘I don’t see it,’ I said. I had already eyed the nags all round, and - assured myself that, ugly and blemished as they were, they were up to - their work. But I had discerned no special merit among them. I looked them - over again now, and came to the same conclusion—that, except the led - horses, which I had chosen with some care, there was nothing among them to - vie with the Cid, either in speed or looks. I told Fresnoy so. - </p> - <p> - ‘Would you like to try?’ he said tauntingly. - </p> - <p> - I laughed, adding, ‘If you think I am going to tire our horses by racing - them, with such work as we have before us, you are mistaken, Fresnoy. I am - not a boy, you know.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘There need be no question of racing,’ he answered more quietly. ‘You have - only to get on that rat-tailed bay of Matthew’s to feel its paces and say - I am right.’ - </p> - <p> - I looked at the bay, a bald-faced, fiddle-headed horse, and saw that, with - no signs of breeding, it was still a big-boned animal with good shoulders - and powerful hips. I thought it possible Fresnoy might be right, and if - so, and the bay’s manners were tolerable, it might do for mademoiselle - better than the horse I had chosen. At any rate, if we had a fast horse - among us, it was well to know the fact, so bidding Matthew change with me, - and be careful of the Cid, I mounted the bay, and soon discovered that its - paces were easy and promised speed, while its manners seemed as good as - even a timid rider could desire. - </p> - <p> - Our road at the time lay across a flat desolate heath, dotted here and - there with, thorn-bushes; the track being broken and stony, extended more - than a score of yards in width, through travellers straying to this side - and that to escape the worst places. Fresnoy and I, in making the change, - had fallen slightly behind the other three, and were riding abreast of - Matthew on the Cid. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well,’ he said, ‘was I not right?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘In part,’ I answered. ‘The horse is better than its looks.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Like many others,’ he rejoined, a spark of resentment in his tone—‘men - as well as horses, M. de Marsac. But What do you say? Shall we canter on a - little and overtake the others?’ - </p> - <p> - Thinking it well to do so, I assented readily, and we started together. We - had ridden, however, no more than a hundred yards, and I was only - beginning to extend the bay, when Fresnoy, slightly drawing rein, turned - in his saddle and looked back. The next moment he cried, ‘Hallo! what is - this? Those fellows are not following us, are they?’ - </p> - <p> - I turned sharply to look. At that moment, without falter or warning, the - bay horse went down under me as if shot dead, throwing me half a dozen - yards over its head; and that so suddenly that I had no time to raise my - arms, but, falling heavily on my head and shoulder, lost consciousness. - </p> - <p> - I have had many falls, but no other to vie with that in utter - unexpectedness. When I recovered my senses I found myself leaning, giddy - and sick, against the bole of an old thorn-tree. Fresnoy and Matthew - supported me on either side, and asked me how I found myself; while the - other three men, their forms black against the stormy evening sky, sat - their horses a few paces in front of me. I was too much dazed at first to - see more, and this only in a mechanical fashion; but gradually, my brain - grew clearer, and I advanced from wondering who the strangers round me - were to recognising them, and finally to remembering what had happened to - me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Is the horse hurt?’ I muttered as soon as I could speak. - </p> - <p> - ‘Not a whit,’ Fresnoy answered, chuckling, or I was much mistaken. ‘I am - afraid you came off the worse of the two, captain.’ - </p> - <p> - He exchanged a look with the men on horseback as he spoke, and in a dull - fashion I fancied I saw them smile. One even laughed, and another turned - in his saddle as if to hide his face. I had a vague general sense that - there was some joke on foot in which I had no part. But I was too much - shaken at the moment to be curious, and gratefully accepted the offer of - one, of the men to fetch me a little water. While he was away the rest - stood round me, the same look of ill-concealed drollery on their faces. - Fresnoy alone talked, speaking volubly of the accident, pouring out - expressions of sympathy and cursing the road, the horse, and the wintry - light until the water came; when, much refreshed by the draught, I managed - to climb to the Cid’s saddle and plod slowly onwards with them. - </p> - <p> - ‘A bad beginning,’ Fresnoy said presently, stealing a sly glance at me as - we jogged along side by side, Chize half a league before us, and darkness - not far off. - </p> - <p> - By this time, however, I was myself again, save for a little humming is - the head, and, shrugging my shoulders, I told him so. ‘All’s well that - ends well,’ I added. ‘Not that it was a pleasant fall, or that I wish to - have such another.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, I should think not,’ he answered. His face was turned from me, but I - fancied I heard him snigger. - </p> - <p> - Something, which may have been a vague suspicion, led me a moment later to - put my hand into my pouch. Then I understood. I understood too well. The - sharp surprise of the discovery was such that involuntarily I drove my - spurs into the Cid, and the horse sprang forward. - </p> - <p> - ‘What is the matter?’ Fresnoy asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘The matter?’ I echoed, my hand still at my belt, feeling—feeling - hopelessly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, what is it?’ he asked, a brazen smile on his rascally face. - </p> - <p> - I looked at him, my brow as red as fire. ‘Oh! nothing—nothing,’ I - said. ‘Let us trot on.’ - </p> - <p> - In truth I had discovered that, taking advantage of my helplessness, the - scoundrels had robbed me, while I lay insensible, of every gold crown in - my purse! Nor was this all, or the worst, for I saw at once that in doing - so they had effected something which was a thousandfold more ominous and - formidable—established against me that secret understanding which it - was my especial aim to prevent, and on the absence of which I had been - counting. Nay, I saw that for my very life I had only my friend the cutler - and my own prudence to thank, seeing that these rogues would certainly - have murdered me without scruple had they succeeded in finding the bulk of - my money. Baffled in this, while still persuaded that I had other - resources, they had stopped short of that villany—or this memoir had - never been written. They had kindly permitted me to live until a more - favourable opportunity of enriching themselves at my expense should put - them in possession of my last crown! - </p> - <p> - Though I was sufficiently master of myself to refrain from complaints - which I felt must be useless, and from menaces which it has never been my - habit to utter unless I had also the power to put them into execution, it - must not be imagined that I did not, as I rode on by Fresnoy’s side, feel - my position acutely or see how absurd a figure I cut in my dual character - of leader and dupe. Indeed, the reflection that, being in this perilous - position, I was about to stake another’s safety as well as my own, made me - feel the need of a few minutes’ thought so urgent that I determined to - gain them, even at the risk of leaving my men at liberty to plot further - mischief. Coming almost immediately afterwards within sight, of the - turrets of the Chateau of Chize, I told Fresnoy that we should lie the - night at the village; and bade him take the men on and secure quarters at - the inn. Attacked instantly by suspicion and curiosity, he demurred - stoutly to leaving me, and might have persisted in his refusal had I not - pulled up, and clearly shown him that I would have my own way in this case - or come to an open breach. He shrank, as I expected, from the latter - alternative, and, bidding me a sullen adieu, trotted on with his troop. I - waited until they were out of sight, and then, turning the Cid’s head, - crossed a small brook which divided the road from the chase, and choosing - a ride which seemed to pierce the wood in the direction of the Chateau, - proceeded down it, keeping a sharp look-out on either hand. - </p> - <p> - It was then, my thoughts turning to the lady who was now so near, and who, - noble, rich, and a stranger, seemed, as I approached her, not the least - formidable of the embarrassments before me—it was then that I made a - discovery which sent a cold shiver through my frame, and in a moment swept - all memory of my paltry ten crowns from my head. Ten crowns! Alas! I had - lost that which was worth all my crowns put together—the broken coin - which the King of Navarre had entrusted to me, and which formed my sole - credential, my only means of persuading Mademoiselle de la Vire that I - came from him. I had put it in my pouch, and of course, though the loss of - it only came home to my mind now, it had disappeared with the rest. - </p> - <p> - I drew rein and sat for some time motionless, the image of despair. The - wind which stirred the naked boughs overhead, and whirled the dead leaves - in volleys past my feet, and died away at last among the whispering - bracken, met nowhere with wretchedness greater, I believe, than was mine - at that moment. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV. MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE. - </h2> - <p> - My first desperate impulse on discovering the magnitude of my loss was to - ride after the knaves and demand the token at the sword’s point. The - certainty, however, of finding them united, and the difficulty of saying - which of the five possessed what I wanted, led me to reject this plan as I - grew cooler; and since I did not dream, even in this dilemma, of - abandoning the expedition the only alternative seemed to be to act as if I - still had the broken coin, and essay what a frank explanation might effect - when the time came. - </p> - <p> - After some wretched, very wretched, moments of debate, I resolved to adopt - this course; and, for the present, thinking I might gain some knowledge of - the surroundings while the light lasted, I pushed cautiously forward - through the trees and came in less than five minutes within sight of a - corner of the chateau, which I found to be a modern building of the time - of Henry II., raised, like the houses of that time, for pleasure rather - than defence, and decorated with many handsome casements and tourelles. - Despite this, it wore, as I saw it, a grey and desolate air, due in part - to the loneliness of the situation and the lateness of the hour; and in - part, I think, to the smallness of the household maintained, for no one - was visible on the terrace or at the windows. The rain dripped from the - trees, which on two sides pressed so closely on the house as almost to - darken the rooms, and everything I saw encouraged me to hope that - mademoiselle’s wishes would second my entreaties, and incline her to lend - a ready ear to my story. - </p> - <p> - The appearance of the house, indeed, was a strong inducement to me to - proceed, for it was impossible to believe that a young lady, a kinswoman - of the gay and vivacious Turenne, and already introduced to the pleasures - of the Court, would elect of her own free will to spend the winter in so - dreary a solitude. - </p> - <p> - Taking advantage of the last moments of daylight, I rode cautiously round - the house, and, keeping in the shadow of the trees, had no difficulty in - discovering at the north-east corner the balcony of which I had been told. - It was semi-circular in shape, with a stone balustrade, and hung some - fifteen feet above a terraced walk which ran below it, and was separated - from the chase by a low sunk fence. - </p> - <p> - I was surprised to observe that, notwithstanding the rain and the coldness - of the evening, the window which gave upon this balcony was open. Nor was - this all. Luck was in store for me at last. I had not gazed at the window - more than a minute, calculating its height and other particulars, when, to - my great joy, a female figure, closely hooded, stepped out and stood - looking up at the sky. I was too far off to be able to discern by that - uncertain light whether this was Mademoiselle de la Vire or her woman; but - the attitude was so clearly one of dejection and despondency, that I felt - sure it was either one or the other. Determined not to let the opportunity - slip, I dismounted hastily and, leaving the Cid loose, advanced on foot - until I stood within half-a-dozen paces of the window. - </p> - <p> - At that point the watcher became aware of me. She started back, but did - not withdraw. Still peering down at me, she called softly to some one - inside the chamber, and immediately a second figure, taller and stouter, - appeared. I had already doffed my cap, and I now, in a low voice, begged - to know if I had the honour of speaking to Mademoiselle de la Vire. In the - growing darkness it was impossible to distinguish faces. - </p> - <p> - ‘Hush!’ the stouter figure muttered in a tone of warning. ‘Speak lower. - Who are you, and what do you here?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am here,’ I answered respectfully, ‘commissioned by a friend of the - lady I have named, to convey her to a place of safety.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mon dieu!’ was the sharp answer. ‘Now? It is impossible.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No,’ I murmured, ‘not now, but to-night. The moon rises at half-past two. - My horses need rest and food. At three I will be below this window with - the means of escape, if mademoiselle choose to use them.’ - </p> - <p> - I felt that they were staring at me through the dusk, as though they would - read my breast. ‘Your name, sir?’ the shorter figure murmured at last, - after a pause which was full of suspense and excitement. - </p> - <p> - ‘I do not think my name of much import at present, Mademoiselle,’ I - answered, reluctant to proclaim myself a stranger. ‘When—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Your name, your name, sir!’ she repeated imperiously, and I heard her - little heel rap upon the stone floor of the balcony. - </p> - <p> - ‘Gaston de Marsac,’ I answered unwillingly. - </p> - <p> - They both started, and cried out together. ‘Impossible!’ the last speaker - exclaimed, amazement and anger in her tone, ‘This is a jest, sir. This—’ - </p> - <p> - What more she would have said I was left to guess, for at that moment her - attendant I had no doubt now which was mademoiselle and which Fanchette—suddenly - laid her hand on her mistress’s mouth and pointed to the room behind them. - A second’s suspense, and with a wanting gesture the two turned and - disappeared through the window. - </p> - <p> - I lost no time in regaining the shelter of the trees; and concluding, - though I was far from satisfied with the interview, that I could do - nothing more now, but might rather, by loitering in the neighbourhood, - awaken suspicion, I remounted and made for the highway and the village, - where I found my men in noisy occupation of the inn, a poor place, with - unglazed windows, and a fire in the middle of the earthen floor. My first - care was to stable the Cid in a shed at the back, where I provided for - its wants as far as I could with the aid of a half-naked boy, who seemed - to be in hiding there. - </p> - <p> - This done, I returned to the front of the house, having pretty well made - up my mind how I would set about the task before me. As I passed one of - the windows, which was partially closed by a rude curtain made of old - sacks, I stopped to look in. Fresnoy and his four rascals were seated on - blocks of wood round the hearth, talking loudly and fiercely, and ruffling - it as if the fire and the room were their own. A pedlar, seated on his - goods in one corner, was eyeing them with evident fear and suspicion; in - another corner two children had taken refuge under a donkey, which some - fowls had chosen as a roosting-pole. The innkeeper, a sturdy fellow, with - a great club in his fist, sat moodily at the foot of a ladder which led to - the loft above, while a slatternly woman, who was going to and fro getting - supper, seemed in equal terror of her guests and her good man. - </p> - <p> - Confirmed by what I saw, and assured that the villains were ripe for any - mischief, and, if not checked, would speedily be beyond my control, I - noisily flung the door open and entered. Fresnoy looked up with a sneer as - I did so, and one of the men laughed. The others became silent; but no one - moved or greeted me. Without a moment’s hesitation I stepped to the - nearest fellow and, with a sturdy kick, sent his log from under him. - ‘Rise, you rascal, when I enter!’ I cried, giving vent to the anger I had - long felt. ‘And you, too!’ and with a second kick I sent his neighbour’s - stool flying also, and administered a couple of cuts with my riding-cane - across the man’s shoulders. ‘Have you no manners, sirrah? Across with you, - and leave this side to your betters.’ - </p> - <p> - The two rose, snarling and feeling for their weapons, and for a moment - stood facing me, looking now at me and now askance at Fresnoy. But as he - gave no sign, and their comrades only laughed, the men’s courage failed - them at the pinch, and with a very poor grace they sneaked over to the - other side of the fire and sat there, scowling. - </p> - <p> - I seated myself beside their leader. ‘This gentleman and I will eat here,’ - I cried to the man at the foot of the ladder. ‘Bid your wife lay for us, - and of the best you have; and do you give those knaves their provender - where the smell of their greasy jackets will not come between us and our - victuals.’ - </p> - <p> - The man came forward, glad enough, as I saw, to discover any one in - authority, and very civilly began to draw wine and place a board for us, - while his wife filled our platters from the black pot which hung over the - fire. Fresnoy’s face meanwhile wore the amused smile of one who - comprehended my motives, but felt sufficiently sure of his position and - influence with his followers to be indifferent to my proceedings. I - presently showed him, however, that I had not yet done with him. Our table - was laid in obedience to my orders at such a distance from the men that - they could not overhear our talk, and by-and-by I leant over to him. - </p> - <p> - ‘M. Fresnoy,’ I said, ‘you are in danger of forgetting one thing, I fancy, - which it behoves you to remember.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ he muttered, scarcely deigning to look up at me. - </p> - <p> - ‘That you have to do with Gaston de Marsac,’ I answered quietly. ‘I am - making, as I told you this morning, a last attempt to recruit my fortunes, - and I will let no man—no man, do you understand, M. Fresnoy?—thwart - me and go harmless.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Who wishes to thwart you?’ he asked impudently. - </p> - <p> - ‘You,’ I answered unmoved, helping myself, as I spoke, from the roll of - black bread which lay beside me. ‘You robbed me this afternoon; I passed - it over. You encouraged those men to be insolent; I passed it over. But - let me tell you this. If you fail me to-night, on the honour of a - gentleman, M. Fresnoy, I will run you through as I would spit a lark.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Will you? But two can play at that game,’ he cried, rising nimbly from - his stool. ‘Still better six! Don’t you think, M. de Marsac, you had - better have waited—?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I think you had better hear one word more,’ I answered coolly, keeping my - seat, ‘before you appeal to your fellows there.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well,’ he said, still standing, ‘what is it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay,’ I replied, after once more pointing to his stool in vain, ‘if you - prefer to take my orders standing, well and good.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Your orders?’ he shrieked, growing suddenly excited. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, my orders!’ I retorted, rising as suddenly to my feet and hitching - forward my sword. ‘My orders, sir,’ I repeated fiercely, ‘or, if you - dispute my right to command as well as to pay this party, let us decide - the question here and now—you and I, foot to foot, M. Fresnoy.’ - </p> - <p> - The quarrel flashed up so suddenly, though I had been preparing it all - along, that no one moved. The woman indeed, fell back to her children, but - the rest looked on open-mouthed. Had they stirred, or had a moment’s - hurly-burly heated his blood, I doubt not Fresnoy would have taken up my - challenge, for he did not lack hardihood. But as it was, face to face with - me in the silence, his courage failed him. He paused, glowering at me - uncertainly, and did not speak. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well,’ I said, ‘don’t you think that if I pay I ought to give orders, - sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Who wishes to oppose your orders?’ he muttered, drinking off a bumper, - and sitting down with an air of impudent bravado, assumed to hide his - discomfiture. - </p> - <p> - ‘If you don’t, no one else does,’ I answered. So that is settled. - Landlord, some more wine.’ - </p> - <p> - He was very sulky with me for a while, fingering his glass in silence and - scowling at the table. He had enough gentility to feel the humiliation to - which he had exposed himself, and a sufficiency of wit to understand that - that moment’s hesitation had cost him the allegiance of his - fellow-ruffians. I hastened, therefore, to set him at his ease by - explaining my plans for the night, and presently succeeded beyond my - hopes; for when he heard who the lady was whom I proposed to carry off, - and that she was lying that evening at the Chateau de Chize, his surprise - swept away the last trace of resentment. He stared at me, as at a maniac. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mon Dieu!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do you know what you are doing, Sieur?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I think so,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Do you know to whom the chateau belongs?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To the Vicomte de Turenne.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And that Mademoiselle de la Vire is his relation?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mon Dieu!’ he exclaimed again. And he looked at me open-mouthed. - </p> - <p> - ‘What is the matter?’ I asked, though I had an uneasy consciousness that I - knew—that I knew very well. - </p> - <p> - ‘Man, he will crush you as I crush this hat!’ he answered in great - excitement. ‘As easily. Who do you think will protect you from him in a - private quarrel of this kind? Navarre? France? our good man? Not one of - them. You had better steal the king’s crown jewels—he is weak; or - Guise’s last plot—he is generous at times, or Navarre’s last - sweetheart—he is as easy as an old shoe. You had better have to do - with all these together, I tell you, than touch Turenne’s ewe-lambs, - unless your aim be to be broken on the wheel! Mon Dieu, yes!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am much obliged to you for your advice,’ I said stiffly, ‘but the die - is cast. My mind is made up. On the other hand, if you are afraid, M. - Fresnoy—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am afraid; very much afraid,’ he answered frankly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Still your name need not be brought into the matter,’ I replied, ‘I will - take the responsibility. I will let them know my name here at the inn, - where, doubtless, inquiries will be made.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To be sure, that is something,’ he answered thoughtfully. ‘Well, it is an - ugly business, but I am in for it. You want me to go with you a little - after two, do you? and the others to be in the saddle at three? Is that - it?’ - </p> - <p> - I assented, pleased to find him so far acquiescent; and in this way, - talking the details over more than once, we settled our course, arranging - to fly by way of Poitiers and Tours. Of course I did not tell him why I - selected Blois as our refuge, nor what was my purpose there; though he - pressed me more than once on the point, and grew thoughtful and somewhat - gloomy when I continually evaded it. A little after eight we retired to - the loft to sleep; our men remaining below round the fire and snoring so - merrily as almost to shake the crazy old building. The host was charged to - sit up and call us as soon as the moon rose, but, as it turned out, I - might as well have taken this office on myself, for between excitement and - distrust I slept little, and was wide awake when I heard his step on the - ladder and knew it was time to rise. - </p> - <p> - I was up in a moment, and Fresnoy was little behind me; so that, losing no - time in talk, we were mounted and on the road, each with a spare horse at - his knee, before the moon was well above the trees. Once in the Chase we - found it necessary to proceed on foot, but, the distance being short, we - presently emerged without misadventure and stood opposite to the chateau, - the upper part of which shone cold and white in the moon’s rays. - </p> - <p> - There was something so solemn in the aspect of the place, the night being - fine and the sky without a cloud, that I stood for a minute awed and - impressed, the sense of the responsibility I was here to accept strong - upon me. In that short space of time all the dangers before me, as well - the common risks of the road as the vengeance of Turenne and the - turbulence of my own men, presented themselves to my mind, and made a last - appeal to me to turn back from an enterprise so foolhardy. The blood in a - man’s veins runs low and slow at that hour, and mine was chilled by lack - of sleep and the wintry air. It needed the remembrance of my solitary - condition, of my past spent in straits and failure, of the grey hairs - which swept my cheek, of the sword which I had long used honourably, if - with little profit to myself; it needed the thought of all these things to - restore me to courage and myself. - </p> - <p> - I judged at a later period that my companion was affected in somewhat the - same way; for, as I stooped to press home the pegs which I had brought to - tether the horses, he laid his hand on my arm. Glancing up to see what he - wanted, I was struck by the wild look in his face (which the moonlight - invested with a peculiar mottled pallor), and particularly in his eyes, - which glittered like a madman’s. He tried to speak, but seemed to find a - difficulty in doing so; and I had to question him roughly before he found - his tongue. When he did speak, it was only to implore me in an odd, - excited manner to give up the expedition and return. - </p> - <p> - ‘What, now?’ I said, surprised. ‘Now we are here, Fresnoy?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, give it up!’ he cried, shaking me almost fiercely by the arm. ‘Give - it up, man! It will end badly, I tell you! In God’s name, give it up, and - go home before worse comes of it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Whatever comes of it,’ I answered coldly, shaking his grasp from my arm, - and wondering much at this sudden fit of cowardice, ‘I go on. You, M. - Fresnoy, may do as you please!’ - </p> - <p> - He started and drew back from me; but he did not reply, nor did he speak - again. When I presently went off to fetch a ladder, of the position of - which I had made a note during the afternoon, he accompanied me, and - followed me back in the same dull silence to the walk below the balcony. I - had looked more than once and eagerly at mademoiselle’s window without any - light or movement in that quarter rewarding my vigilance; but, undeterred - by this, which might mean either that my plot was known, or that - Mademoiselle de la Vire distrusted me, I set the ladder softly against the - balcony, which was in deep shadow, and paused only to give Fresnoy his - last instructions. These were simply to stand on guard at the foot of the - ladder and defend it in case of surprise; so that, whatever happened - inside the chateau, my retreat by the window might not be cut off. - </p> - <p> - Then I went cautiously up the ladder, and, with my sheathed sword in my - left hand, stepped over the balustrade. Taking one pace forward, with - fingers outstretched, I felt the leaded panes of the window and tapped - softly. - </p> - <p> - As softly the casement gave way, and I followed it. A hand which I could - see but not feel was laid on mine. All was darkness in the room, and - before me, but the hand guided me two paces forward, then by a sudden - pressure bade me stand. I heard the sound of a curtain being drawn behind - me, and the next moment the cover of a rushlight was removed, and a feeble - but sufficient light filled the chamber. - </p> - <p> - I comprehended that the drawing of that curtain over the window had cut - off my retreat as effectually as if a door had been closed behind me. But - distrust and suspicion gave way the next moment to the natural - embarrassment of the man who finds himself in a false position and knows - he can escape from it only by an awkward explanation. - </p> - <p> - The room in which I found myself was long, narrow, and low in the ceiling; - and being hung with some dark stuff which swallowed up the light, - terminated funereally at the farther end in the still deeper gloom of an - alcove. Two or three huge chests, one bearing the remnants of a meal, - stood against the walls. The middle of the floor was covered with a strip - of coarse matting, on which a small table, a chair and foot-rest, and a - couple of stools had place, with some smaller articles which lay scattered - round a pair of half-filled saddle-bags. The slighter and smaller of the - two figures I had seen stood beside the table, wearing a mask and riding - cloak; and by her silent manner of gazing at me, as well as by a cold, - disdainful bearing, which neither her mask nor cloak could hide, did more - to chill and discomfit me than even my own knowledge that I had lost the - pass-key which should have admitted me to her confidence. - </p> - <p> - The stouter figure of the afternoon turned out to be a red-cheeked, sturdy - woman of thirty, with bright black eyes and a manner which lost nothing of - its fierce impatience when she came a little later to address me. All my - ideas of Fanchette were upset by the appearance of this woman, who, rustic - in her speech and ways, seemed more like a duenna, than the waiting-maid - of a court beauty, and better fitted to guard a wayward damsel than to aid - her in such an escapade as we had in hand. - </p> - <p> - She stood slightly behind her mistress, her coarse red hand resting on the - back of the chair from which mademoiselle had apparently risen on my - entrance. For a few seconds, which seemed minutes to me, we stood gazing - at one another in silence, mademoiselle acknowledging my bow by a slight - movement of the head. Then, seeing that they waited for me to speak, I did - so. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle de la Vire?’ I murmured doubtfully. - </p> - <p> - She bent her head again; that was all. - </p> - <p> - I strove to speak with confidence. ‘You will pardon me, mademoiselle,’ I - said, ‘if I seem to be abrupt, but time is everything. The horses are - standing within a hundred yards of the house, and all the preparations for - your flight are made. If we leave now, we can do so without opposition. - The delay even of an hour may lead to discovery.’ - </p> - <p> - For answer she laughed behind her mask-laughed coldly and ironically. ‘You - go too fast, sir,’ she said, her low clear voice matching the laugh and - rousing a feeling almost of anger in my heart. ‘I do not know you; or, - rather, I know nothing of you which should entitle you to interfere in my - affairs. You are too quick to presume, sir. You say you come from a - friend. From whom?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘From one whom I am proud to call by that title,’ I answered with what - patience I might. - </p> - <p> - ‘His name!’ - </p> - <p> - I answered firmly that I could not give it. And I eyed her steadily as I - did so. - </p> - <p> - This for the moment seemed to baffle and confuse her, but after a pause - she continued: ‘Where do you propose to take me, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To Blois; to the lodging of a friend of my friend.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You speak bravely,’ she replied with a faint sneer. ‘You have made some - great friends lately it seems! But you bring me some letter, no doubt; at - least some sign, some token, some warranty, that you are the person you - pretend to be, M. de Marsac?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The truth is, Mademoiselle,’ I stammered, ‘I must explain. I should tell - you—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, sir,’ she cried impetuously, ‘there is no need of telling. If you - have what I say, show it me! It is you who lose time. Let us have no more - words!’ - </p> - <p> - I had used very few words, and, God knows, was not in the mind to use - many; but, being in the wrong, I had no answer to make except the truth, - and that humbly. ‘I had such a token as you mention, mademoiselle,’ I - said, ‘no farther back than this afternoon, in the shape of half a gold - coin, entrusted to me by my friend. But, to my shame I say it, it was - stolen from me a few hours back.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Stolen from you!’ she exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, mademoiselle; and for that reason I cannot show it,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘You cannot show it? And you dare to come to me without it!’ she cried, - speaking with a vehemence which fairly startled me, prepared as I was for - reproaches. You come to me! You!’ she continued. And with that, scarcely - stopping to take breath, she loaded me with abuse; calling me impertinent, - a meddler, and a hundred other things, which I now blush to recall, and - displaying in all a passion which even in her attendant would have - surprised me, but in one so slight and seemingly delicate, overwhelmed and - confounded me. In fault as I was, I could not understand the peculiar - bitterness she displayed, or the contemptuous force of her language, and I - stared at her in silent wonder until, of her own accord, she supplied the - key to her feelings. In a fresh outburst of rage she snatched off her - mask, and to my astonishment I saw before me the young maid of honour whom - I had encountered in the King of Navarre’s antechamber, and whom I had - been so unfortunate as to expose to the raillery of Mathurine. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who has paid you, sir,’ she continued, clenching her small hands and - speaking with tears of anger in her eyes, ‘to make me the laughing-stock - of the Court? It was bad enough when I thought you the proper agent of - those to whom I have a right to look for aid! It was bad enough when I - thought myself forced, through their inconsiderate choice, to decide - between an odious imprisonment and the ridicule to which your intervention - must expose me! But that you should have dared, of your own notion, to - follow me, you, the butt of the Court—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle!’ I cried. - </p> - <p> - ‘A needy, out-at-elbows adventurer!’ she persisted, triumphing in her - cruelty. ‘It exceeds all bearing! It is not to be suffered! It—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, mademoiselle; you SHALL hear me!’ I cried, with a sternness which at - last stopped her. ‘Granted I am poor, I am still a gentleman; yes, - mademoiselle,’ I continued, firmly, ‘a gentleman, and the last of a family - which has spoken with yours on equal terms. And I claim to be heard. I - swear that when I came here to-night I believed you to be a perfect - stranger! I was unaware that I had ever seen you, unaware that I had ever - met you before.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then why did you come?’ she said viciously. - </p> - <p> - ‘I was engaged to come by those whom you have mentioned, and there, and - there only am I in fault. They entrusted to me a token which I have lost. - For that I crave your pardon.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You have need to,’ she answered bitterly, yet with a changed countenance, - or I was mistaken, ‘if your story be true, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, that you have!’ the woman beside her echoed. - </p> - <p> - ‘Hoity toity, indeed! Here is a fuss about nothing. You call yourself a - gentleman, and wear such a doublet as—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Peace, Fanchette,’ mademoiselle said imperiously. And then for a moment - she stood silent, eyeing me intently, her lips trembling with excitement - and two red spots burning in her cheeks. It was clear from her dress and - other things that she had made up her mind to fly had the token been - forthcoming; and seeing this, and knowing how unwilling a young girl is to - forgo her own way, I still had some hopes that she might not persevere in - her distrust and refusal. And so it turned out. - </p> - <p> - Her manner had changed to one of quiet scorn when she next spoke. ‘You - defend yourself skilfully, sir,’ she said, drumming with her fingers on - the table and eyeing me steadfastly. ‘But can you give me any reason for - the person you name making choice of such a messenger?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ I answered, boldly. ‘That he may not be suspected of conniving at - your escape.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Oh!’ she cried, with a spark of her former passion. ‘Then it is to be put - about that Mademoiselle de la Vire had fled from Chize with M. de Marsac, - is it? I thought that!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Through the assistance of M. de Marsac,’ I retorted, correcting her - coldly. ‘It is for you, mademoiselle,’ I continued, ‘to weigh that - disadvantage against the unpleasantness of remaining here. It only remains - for me to ask you to decide quickly. Time presses, and I have stayed here - too long already.’ - </p> - <p> - The words had barely passed my lips when they received unwelcome - confirmation in the shape of a distant sound—the noisy closing of a - door, which, clanging through the house at such an hour—I judged it - to be after three o’clock—could scarcely mean anything but mischief. - This noise was followed immediately, even while we stood listening with - raised fingers, by other sounds—a muffled cry, and the tramp of - heavy footsteps in a distant passage. Mademoiselle looked at me, and I at - her woman. ‘The door!’ I muttered. ‘Is it locked?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And bolted!’ Fanchette answered; ‘and a great chest set against it. Let - them ramp; they will do no harm for a bit.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then you have still time, mademoiselle,’ I whispered, retreating a step - and laying my hand on the curtain before the window. Perhaps I affected - greater coolness than I felt. ‘It is not too late. If you choose to - remain, well and good. I cannot help it. If, on the other hand, you decide - to trust yourself to me, I swear, on the honour of a gentleman, to be - worthy of the trust—to serve you truly and protect you to the last! - I can say no more.’ - </p> - <p> - She trembled, looking from me to the door, on which some one had just - begun to knock loudly. That seemed to decide her. Her lips apart, her eyes - full of excitement, she turned hastily to Fanchette. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, go if you like,’ the woman answered doggedly, reading the meaning of - her look. ‘There cannot be a greater villain than the one we know of. But - once started, heaven help us, for if he overtakes us we’ll pay dearly for - it!’ - </p> - <p> - The girl did not speak herself, but it was enough. The noise at the door - increased each second, and began to be mingled with angry appeals to - Fanchette to open, and with threats in case she delayed. I cut the matter - short by snatching up one of the saddle-bags—the other we left - behind—and flung back the curtain which covered the window. At the - same time the woman dashed out the light—a timely precaution—and - throwing open the casement I stepped on to the balcony, the others - following me closely. - </p> - <p> - The moon had risen high, and flooding with light the small open space - about the house enabled me to see clearly all round the foot of the - ladder, to my surprise Fresnoy was not at his post, nor was he to be seen - anywhere; but as, at the moment I observed this, an outcry away to my - left, at the rear of the chateau, came to my ears, and announced that the - danger was no longer confined to the interior of the house, I concluded - that he had gone that way to intercept the attack. Without more, - therefore, I began to descend as quickly as I could, my sword under one - arm and the bag under the other. - </p> - <p> - I was half-way down, and mademoiselle was already stepping on to the - ladder to follow, when I heard footsteps below, and saw him run up, his - sword in his hand. - </p> - <p> - ‘Quick, Fresnoy!’ I cried. ‘To the horses and unfasten them! quick!’ - </p> - <p> - I slid down the rest of the way, thinking he had gone to do my bidding. - But my feet were scarcely on the ground when a tremendous blow in the side - sent me staggering three paces from the ladder. The attack was so sudden, - so unexpected, that but for the sight of Fresnoy’s scowling face, wild - with rage, at my shoulder, and the sound of his fierce breathing as he - strove to release his sword, which had passed through my saddle-bag, I - might never have known who struck the blow, or how narrow had been my - escape. - </p> - <p> - Fortunately the knowledge did come to me in time, and before he freed his - blade; and it nerved my hand. To draw my-blade at such close quarters was - impossible, but, dropping the bag which had saved my life, I dashed my - hilt twice in his face with such violence that he fell backwards and lay - on the turf, a dark stain growing and spreading on his upturned face. - </p> - <p> - It was scarcely done before the women reached the foot of the ladder and - stood beside me. ‘Quick!’ I cried to them, ‘or they will be upon us.’ - Seizing mademoiselle’s hand, just as half-a-dozen men came running round - the corner of the house, I jumped with her down the haha, and, urging her - to her utmost speed, dashed across the open ground which lay between us - and the belt of trees. Once in the shelter of the latter, where our - movements were hidden from view, I had still to free the horses and mount - mademoiselle and her woman, and this in haste. But my companions’ - admirable coolness and presence of mind, and the objection which our - pursuers, who did not know our numbers, felt to leaving the open ground, - enabled us to do all with, comparative ease. I sprang on the Cid (it has - always been my habit to teach my horse to stand for me, nor do I know any - accomplishment more serviceable at a pinch), and giving Fresnoy’s grey a - cut over the flanks which despatched it ahead, led the way down the ride - by which I had gained the chateau in the afternoon. I knew it to be level - and clear of trees, and the fact that we chose it might throw our pursuers - off the track for a time, by leading them to think we had taken the south - road instead of that through the village. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V. THE ROAD TO BLOIS. - </h2> - <p> - We gained the road without let or hindrance, whence a sharp burst in the - moonlight soon brought us to the village. Through this we swept on to the - inn, almost running over the four evangelists, whom we found standing at - the door ready for the saddle. I bade them, in a quick peremptory tone, to - get to horse, and was overjoyed to see them obey without demur or word of - Fresnoy. In another minute, with a great clatter of hoofs, we sprang clear - of the hamlet, and were well on the road to Melle, with Poitiers some - thirteen leagues before us. I looked back, and thought I discerned lights - moving in the direction of the chateau; but the dawn was still two hours - off, and the moonlight left me in doubt whether these were real or the - creatures of my own fearful fancy. - </p> - <p> - I remember, three years before this time, on the occasion of the famous - retreat from Angers—when the Prince of Conde had involved his army - beyond the Loire, and saw himself, in the impossibility of recrossing the - river, compelled to take ship for England, leaving every one to shift for - himself—I well remember on that occasion riding, alone and pistol in - hand, through more than thirty miles of the enemy’s country without - drawing rein. But my anxieties were then confined to the four shoes of my - horse. The dangers to which I was exposed at every ford and cross road - were such as are inseparable from a campaign, and breed in generous hearts - only a fierce pleasure, rarely to be otherwise enjoyed. And though I then - rode warily, and where I could not carry terror, had all to fear myself, - there was nothing secret or underhand in my business. - </p> - <p> - It was very different now. During the first few hours of our flight from - Chize I experienced a painful excitement, an alarm, a feverish anxiety to - get forward, which was new to me; which oppressed my spirits to the very - ground; which led me to take every sound borne to us on the wind for the - sound of pursuit, transforming the clang of a hammer on the anvil into the - ring of swords, and the voices of my own men into those of the pursuers. - It was in vain mademoiselle rode with a free hand, and leaping such - obstacles as lay in our way, gave promise of courage and endurance beyond - my expectations. I could think of nothing but the three long day’s before - us, with twenty-four hours to every day, and each hour fraught with a - hundred chances of disaster and ruin. - </p> - <p> - In fact, the longer I considered our position—and as we pounded - along, now splashing through a founderous hollow, now stumbling as we - wound over a stony shoulder, I had ample time to reflect upon it—the - greater seemed the difficulties before us. The loss of Fresnoy, while it - freed me from some embarrassment, meant also the loss of a good sword, and - we had mustered only too few before. The country which lay between us and - the Loire, being the borderland between our party and the League, had been - laid desolate so often as to be abandoned to pillage and disorder of every - kind. The peasants had flocked into the towns. Their places had been taken - by bands of robbers and deserters from both parties, who haunted the - ruined villages about Poitiers, and preyed upon all who dared to pass. To - add to our perils, the royal army under the Duke of Nevers was reported to - be moving slowly southward, not very far to the left of our road; while a - Huguenot expedition against Niort was also in progress within a few - leagues of us. - </p> - <p> - With four staunch and trustworthy comrades at my back, I might have faced - even this situation with a smile and a light heart; but the knowledge that - my four knaves might mutiny at any moment, or, worse still, rid themselves - of me and all restraint by a single treacherous blow such as Fresnoy had - aimed at me, filled me with an ever-present dread; which it taxed my - utmost energies to hide from them, and which I strove in vain to conceal - from mademoiselle’s keener vision. - </p> - <p> - Whether it was this had an effect upon her, giving her a meaner opinion of - me than that which I had for a while hoped she entertained, or that she - began, now it was too late, to regret her flight and resent my part in it, - I scarcely know; but from daybreak onwards she assumed an attitude of cold - suspicion towards me, which was only less unpleasant than the scornful - distance of her manner when she deigned, which was seldom, to address me. - </p> - <p> - Not once did she allow me to forget that I was in her eyes a needy - adventurer, paid by her friends to escort her to a place of safety, but - without any claim to the smallest privilege of intimacy or equality. When - I would have adjusted her saddle, she bade her woman come and hold up her - skirt, that my hands might not touch its hem even by accident. And when I - would have brought wine to her at Melle, where we stayed for twenty - minutes, she called Fanchette to hand it to her. She rode for the most - part in her mask; and with her woman. One good effect only her pride and - reserve had; they impressed our men with a strong sense of her importance, - and the danger to which any interference with her might expose them. - </p> - <p> - The two men whom Fresnoy had enlisted I directed to ride a score of paces - in advance. Luke and John I placed in the rear. In this manner I thought - to keep them somewhat apart. For myself, I proposed to ride abreast of - mademoiselle, but she made it so clear that my neighbourhood displeased - her that I fell back, leaving her to ride with Fanchette; and contented - myself with plodding at their heels, and striving to attach the later - evangelists to my interests. - </p> - <p> - We were so fortunate, despite my fears, as to find the road nearly - deserted—as, alas, was much of the country on either side—and - to meet none but small parties travelling along it; who were glad enough, - seeing the villainous looks of our outriders, to give us a wide berth, and - be quit of us for the fright. We skirted Lusignan, shunning the streets, - but passing near enough for me to point out to mademoiselle the site of - the famous tower built, according to tradition, by the fairy Melusina, and - rased thirteen years back by the Leaguers. She received my information so - frigidly, however, that I offered no more, but fell back shrugging my - shoulders, and rode in silence, until, some two hours after noon, the city - of Poitiers came into sight, lying within its circle of walls and towers - on a low hill in the middle of a country clothed in summer with rich - vineyards, but now brown and bare and cheerless to the eye. - </p> - <p> - Fanchette turned and asked me abruptly if that were Poitiers. - </p> - <p> - I answered that it was, but added that for certain reasons I proposed not - to halt, but to lie at a village a league beyond the city, where there was - a tolerable inn. - </p> - <p> - ‘We shall do very well here,’ the woman answered rudely. ‘Any way, my lady - will go no farther. She is tired and cold, and wet besides, and has gone - far enough.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Still,’ I answered, nettled by the woman’s familiarity, ‘I think - mademoiselle will change her mind when she hears my reasons for going - farther.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle does not wish to hear them, sir,’ the lady replied herself, - and very sharply. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nevertheless, I think you had better hear them,’ I persisted, turning to - her respectfully. ‘You see, mademoiselle—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I see only one thing, sir,’ she exclaimed, snatching off her mask and - displaying a countenance beautiful indeed, but flushed for the moment with - anger and impatience, ‘that, whatever betides, I stay at Poitiers - to-night.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If it would content you to rest an hour?’ I suggested gently. - </p> - <p> - ‘It will not content me!’ she rejoined with spirit. ‘And let me tell you, - sir,’ she went on impetuously, ‘once for all, that you take too much upon - yourself. You are here to escort me, and to give orders to these - ragamuffins, for they are nothing better, with whom you have thought fit - to disgrace our company; but not to give orders to me or to control my - movements. Confine yourself for the future, sir, to your duties, if you - please.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I desire only to obey you,’ I answered, suppressing the angry feelings - which rose in my breast, and speaking as coolly as lay in my power. ‘But, - as the first of my duties is to provide for your safety, I am determined - to omit nothing which can conduce to that end. You have not considered - that, if a party in pursuit of us reaches Poitiers to-night, search will - be made for us in the city, and we shall be taken. If, on the other hand, - we are known to have passed through, the hunt may go no farther; certainly - will go no farther to-night. Therefore we must not, mademoiselle,’ I added - firmly, ‘lie in Poitiers to-night.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Sir,’ she exclaimed, looking at me, her face crimson with wonder and - indignation, ‘do you dare to—?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I dare do my duty, mademoiselle,’ I answered, plucking up a spirit, - though my heart was sore. ‘I am a man old enough to be your father, and - with little to lose, or I had not been here. I care nothing what you think - or what you say of me, provided I can do what I have undertaken to do and - place you safely in the hands of your friends. But enough, mademoiselle, - we are at the gate. If you will permit me, I will ride through the streets - beside you. We shall so attract less attention.’ - </p> - <p> - Without waiting for a permission which she was very unlikely to give, I - pushed my horse forward, and took my place beside her, signing to - Fanchette to fall back. The maid obeyed, speechless with indignation; - while mademoiselle flashed a scathing glance at me and looked round in - helpless anger, as though it was in her mind to appeal against me even to - the passers-by. But she thought better of it, and contenting herself with - muttering the word ‘Impertinent’ put on her mask with fingers which - trembled, I fancy, not a little. - </p> - <p> - A small rain was falling and the afternoon was well advanced when we - entered the town, but I noticed that, notwithstanding this, the streets - presented a busy and animated appearance, being full of knots of people - engaged in earnest talk. A bell was tolling somewhere, and near the - cathedral a crowd of no little size was standing, listening to a man who - seemed to be rending a placard or manifesto attached to the wall. In - another place a soldier, wearing the crimson colours of the League, but - splashed and stained as with recent travel, was holding forth to a - breathless circle who seemed to hang upon his lips. A neighbouring corner - sheltered a handful of priests who whispered together with gloomy faces. - Many stared at us as we passed, and some would have spoken; but I rode - steadily on, inviting no converse. Nevertheless at the north gate I got a - rare fright; for, though it wanted a full half-hour of sunset, the porter - was in the act of closing it. Seeing us, he waited grumbling until we came - up, and then muttered, in answer to my remonstrance, something about queer - times and wilful people having their way. I took little notice of what he - said, however, being anxious only to get through the gate and leave as few - traces of our passage as might be. - </p> - <p> - As soon as we were outside the town I fell back, permitting Fanchette to - take my place. For another league, a long and dreary one, we plodded on in - silence, horses and men alike jaded and sullen, and the women scarcely - able to keep their saddles for fatigue. At last, much to my relief, seeing - that I began to fear I had taxed mademoiselle’s strength too far, the long - low buildings of the inn at which I proposed to stay came in sight, at the - crossing of the road and river. The place looked blank and cheerless, for - the dusk was thickening; but as we trailed one by one into the courtyard a - stream of firelight burst on us from doors and windows, and a dozen sounds - of life and comfort greeted our ears. - </p> - <p> - Noticing that mademoiselle was benumbed and cramped with long sitting, I - would have helped her to dismount; but she fiercely rejected my aid, and I - had to content myself with requesting the landlord to assign the best - accommodation he had to the lady and her attendant, and secure as much - privacy for them as possible. The man assented very civilly and said all - should be done; but I noticed that his eyes wandered while I talked, and - that he seemed to have something on his mind. When he returned, after - disposing of them, it came out. - </p> - <p> - ‘Did you ever happen to see him, sir?’ he asked with a sigh; yet was there - a smug air of pleasure mingled with his melancholy. - </p> - <p> - ‘See whom?’ I answered, staring at him, for neither of us had mentioned - any one. - </p> - <p> - ‘The Duke, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - I stared again between wonder and suspicion. ‘The Duke of Nevers is not in - this part, is he?’ I said slowly. ‘I heard he was on the Brittany border, - away to the westward.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mon Dieu!’ my host exclaimed, raising his hands in astonishment. ‘You - have not heard, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I have heard nothing,’ I answered impatiently. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have not heard, sir, that the most puissant and illustrious lord the - Duke of Guise is dead?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘M. de Guise dead? It is not true!’ I cried astonished. - </p> - <p> - He nodded, however, several times with an air of great importance, and - seemed as if he would have gone on to give me some particulars. But, - remembering, as I fancied, that he spoke in the hearing of half-a-dozen - guests who sat about the great fire behind me, and had both eyes and ears - open, he contented himself with shifting his towel to his other arm and - adding only, ‘Yes, sir, dead as any nail. The news came through here - yesterday, and made a pretty stir. It happened at Blois the day but one - before Christmas, if all be true.’ - </p> - <p> - I was thunderstruck. This was news which might change the face of France. - ‘How did it happen?’ I asked. - </p> - <p> - My host covered his mouth with his hand and coughed, and, privily - twitching my sleeve, gave me to understand with some shamefacedness that - he could not say more in public. I was about to make some excuse to retire - with him, when a harsh voice, addressed apparently to me, caused me to - turn sharply. I found at my elbow a tall thin-faced monk in the habit of - the Jacobin order. He had risen from his seat beside the fire, and seemed - to be labouring under great excitement. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who asked how it happened?’ he cried, rolling his eyes in a kind of - frenzy, while still observant, or I was much mistaken, of his listeners. - Is there a man in France to whom the tale has not been told? Is there?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I will answer for one,’ I replied, regarding him with little favour. ‘I - have heard nothing.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then you shall! Listen!’ he exclaimed, raising his right hand and - brandishing it as though he denounced a person then present. ‘Hear my - accusation, made in the name of Mother Church and the saints against the - arch hypocrite, the perjurer and assassin sitting in high places! He shall - be Anathema Maranatha, for he has shed the blood of the holy and the pure, - the chosen of Heaven! He shall go down to the pit, and that soon. The - blood that he has shed shall be required of him, and that before he is one - year older.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut-tut. All that sounds very fine, good father,’ I said, waxing - impatient, and a little scornful; for I saw that he was one of those - wandering and often crazy monks in whom the League found their most useful - emissaries. ‘But I should profit more by your gentle words, if I knew whom - you were cursing.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The man of blood!’ he cried; ‘through whom the last but not the least of - God’s saints and martyrs entered into glory on the Friday before - Christmas.’ - </p> - <p> - Moved by such profanity, and judging him, notwithstanding the extravagance - of his words and gestures, to be less mad than he seemed, and at least as - much knave as fool, I bade him sternly have done with his cursing, and - proceed to his story if he had one. - </p> - <p> - He glowered at me for a moment, as though he were minded to launch his - spiritual weapons at my head; but as I returned his glare with an unmoved - eye—and my four rascals, who were as impatient as myself to learn - the news, and had scarce more reverence for a shaven crown, began to - murmur—he thought better of it, and cooling as suddenly as he had - flamed up, lost no more time in satisfying our curiosity. - </p> - <p> - It would ill become me, however, to set down the extravagant and often - blasphemous harangue in which, styling M. de Guise the martyr of God, he - told the story now so familiar—the story of that dark wintry morning - at Blois, when the king’s messenger, knocking early at the duke’s door, - bade him hurry, for the king wanted him. The story is trite enough now. - When I heard it first in the inn on the Clain, it was all new and all - marvellous. - </p> - <p> - The monk, too, telling the story as if he had seen the events with his own - eyes, omitted nothing which might impress his hearers. He told us how the - duke received warning after warning, and answered in the very antechamber, - ‘He dare not!’ How his blood, mysteriously advised of coming dissolution, - grew chill, and his eye, wounded at Chateau Thierry, began to run, so that - he had to send for the handkerchief he had forgotten to bring. He told us, - even, how the duke drew his assassins up and down the chamber, how he - cried for mercy, and how he died at last at the foot of the king’s bed, - and how the king, who had never dared to face him living, came and spurned - him dead! - </p> - <p> - There were pale faces round the fire when he ceased, and bent brows and - lips hard pressed together. Then he stood and cursed the King of France—cursing - him openly by the name of Henry of Valois, a thing I had never looked to - hear in France—though no one said ‘Amen,’ and all glanced over their - shoulders, and our host pattered from the room as if he had seen a ghost, - it seemed to be no man’s duty to gainsay him. - </p> - <p> - For myself, I was full of thoughts which it would have been unsafe to - utter in that company or so near the Loire. I looked back sixteen years. - Who but Henry of Guise had spurned the corpse of Coligny? And who but - Henry of Valois had backed him in the act? Who but Henry of Guise had - drenched Paris with blood, and who but Henry of Valois had ridden by his - side? One 23rd of the month—a day never to be erased from France’s - annals—had purchased for him a term of greatness. A second 23rd saw - him, pay the price—saw his ashes cast secretly and by night no man - knows where! - </p> - <p> - Moved by such thoughts, and observing that the priest was going the round - of the company collecting money for masses for the duke’s soul, to which - object I could neither give with a good conscience nor refuse without - exciting suspicion, I slipped out; and finding a man of decent appearance - talking with the landlord in a small room beside the kitchen, I called for - a flask of the best wine, and by means of that introduction obtained my - supper in their company. - </p> - <p> - The stranger was a Norman horsedealer, returning home, after disposing of - his string. He seemed to be in a large way of business, and being of a - bluff, independent spirit, as many of those Norman townsmen are, was - inclined at first to treat me with more familiarity than respect; the fact - of my nag, for which he would have chaffered, excelling my coat in - quality, leading him to set me down as a steward or intendant. The pursuit - of his trade, however, had brought him into connection with all classes of - men and he quickly perceived his mistake; and as he knew the provinces - between the Seine and Loire to perfection, and made it part of his - business to foresee the chances of peace and war, I obtained a great - amount of information from him, and indeed conceived no little liking for - him. He believed that the assassination of M. de Guise would alienate so - much of France from the king that his majesty would have little left save - the towns on the Loire, and some other places lying within easy reach of - his court at Blois. - </p> - <p> - ‘But,’ I said, ‘things seem quiet now. Here, for instance.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is the calm before the storm,’ he answered. ‘There is a monk in there. - Have you heard him?’ - </p> - <p> - I nodded. - </p> - <p> - ‘He is only one among a hundred—a thousand,’ the horsedealer - continued, looking at me and nodding with meaning. He was a brown-haired - man with shrewd grey eyes, such as many Normans have. ‘They will get their - way too, you will see,’ he went on. ‘Well, horses will go up, so I have no - cause to grumble; but, if I were on my way to Blois with women or gear of - that kind, I should not choose this time for picking posies on the road. I - should see the inside of the gates as soon as possible.’ - </p> - <p> - I thought there was much in what he said; and when he went on to maintain - that the king would find himself between the hammer and the anvil—between - the League holding all the north and the Huguenots holding all the south—and - must needs in time come to terms with the latter seeing that the former - would rest content with nothing short of his deposition, I began to agree - with him that we should shortly see great changes and very stirring times. - </p> - <p> - ‘Still if they depose the king,’ I said, ‘the King of Navarre must succeed - him. He is the heir of France.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Bah!’ my companion replied somewhat contemptuously. ‘The League will see - to that. He goes with the other.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then the kings are in one cry, and you are right,’ I said with - conviction. ‘They must unite.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘So they will. It is only a question of time,’ he said. - </p> - <p> - In the morning, having only one man with him, and, as I guessed, a - considerable sum of money, he volunteered to join our party as far as - Blois. I assented gladly, and he did so, this addition to our numbers - ridding me at once of the greater part of my fears. I did not expect any - opposition on the part of mademoiselle, who would gain in consequence as - well as in safety. Nor did she offer any. She was content, I think, to - welcome any addition to our party which would save her from the necessity - of riding in the company of my old cloak. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI. MY MOTHER’S LODGING. - </h2> - <p> - Travelling by way of Chatelherault and Tours, we reached the neighbourhood - of Blois a little after noon on the third day without misadventure or any - intimation of pursuit. The Norman proved himself a cheerful companion on - the road, as I already knew him to be a man of sense and shrewdness while - his presence rendered the task of keeping my men in order an easy one. I - began to consider the adventure as practically achieved; and regarding - Mademoiselle de la Vire as already in effect transferred to the care of M. - de Rosny, I ventured to turn my thoughts to the development of my own - plans and the choice of a haven in which I might rest secure from the - vengeance of M. de Turenne. - </p> - <p> - For the moment I had evaded his pursuit, and, assisted by the confusion - caused everywhere by the death of Guise had succeeded in thwarting his - plans and affronting his authority with seeming ease. But I knew too much - of his power and had heard too many instances of his fierce temper and - resolute will to presume on short impunity or to expect the future with - anything but diffidence and dismay. - </p> - <p> - The exclamations of my companions on coming within sight of Blois aroused - me from these reflections. I joined them, and fully shared their emotion - as I gazed on the stately towers which had witnessed so many royal - festivities, and, alas! one royal tragedy; which had sheltered Louis the - Well-beloved and Francis the Great, and rung with the laughter of Diana of - Poitiers and the second Henry. The play of fancy wreathed the sombre - building with a hundred memories grave and gay. But, though the rich plain - of the Loire still swelled upward as of old in gentle homage at the feet - of the gallant town, the shadow of crime seemed to darken all, and dim - even the glories of the royal standard which hung idly in the air. - </p> - <p> - We had heard so many reports of the fear and suspicion which reigned in - the city and of the strict supervision which was exercised over all who - entered—the king dreading a repetition of the day of the Barricades—that - we halted at a little inn a mile short of the gate and broke up our - company. I parted from my Norman friend with mutual expressions of esteem, - and from my own men, whom I had paid off in the morning, complimenting - each of them with a handsome present, with a feeling of relief equally - sincere. I hoped—but the hope was not fated to be gratified—that - I might never see the knaves again. - </p> - <p> - It wanted less than an hour of sunset when I rode up to the gate, a few - paces in front of mademoiselle and her woman; as if I had really been the - intendant for whom the horse-dealer had mistaken me. We found the - guardhouse lined with soldiers, who scanned us very narrowly as we - approached, and whose stern features and ordered weapons showed that they - were not there for mere effect. The fact, however, that we came from - Tours, a city still in the king’s hands, served to allay suspicion, and we - passed without accident. - </p> - <p> - Once in the streets, and riding in single file between the houses, to the - windows of which the townsfolk seemed to be attracted by the slightest - commotion, so full of terror was the air, I experienced a moment of huge - relief. This was Blois—Blois at last. We were within a few score - yards of the Bleeding Heart. In a few minutes I should receive a - quittance, and be free to think only of myself. - </p> - <p> - Nor was my pleasure much lessened by the fact that I was so soon to part - from Mademoiselle de la Vire. Frankly, I was far from liking her. Exposure - to the air of a court had spoiled, it seemed to me, whatever graces of - disposition the young lady had ever possessed. She still maintained, and - had maintained throughout the journey, the cold and suspicious attitude - assumed at starting; nor had she ever expressed the least solicitude on my - behalf, or the slightest sense that we were incurring danger in her - service. She had not scrupled constantly to prefer her whims to the common - advantage, and even safety; while her sense of self-importance had come to - be so great, that she seemed to hold herself exempt from the duty of - thanking any human creature. I could not deny that she was beautiful—indeed, - I often thought, when watching her, of the day when I had seen her in the - King of Navarre’s antechamber in all the glory of her charms. But I felt - none the less that I could turn my back on her—leaving her in safety—without - regret; and be thankful that her path would never again cross mine. - </p> - <p> - With such thoughts in my breast I turned the corner of the Rue de St. - Denys and came at once upon the Bleeding Heart, a small but decent-looking - hostelry situate near the end of the street and opposite a church. A bluff - grey-haired man, who was standing in the doorway, came forward as we - halted, and looking curiously at mademoiselle asked what I lacked; adding - civilly that the house was full and they had no sleeping room, the late - events having drawn a great assemblage to Blois. - </p> - <p> - ‘I want only an address,’ I answered, leaning from the saddle and speaking - in a low voice that I might not be overheard by the passers-by. ‘The Baron - de Rosny is in Blois, is he not?’ - </p> - <p> - The man started at the name of the Huguenot leader, and looked round him - nervously. But, seeing that no one was very near us, he answered: ‘He was, - sir; but he left town a week ago and more. ‘There have been strange doings - here, and M. de Rosny thought that the climate suited him ill.’ - </p> - <p> - He said this with so much meaning, as well as concern that he should not - be overheard, that, though I was taken aback and bitterly disappointed, I - succeeded in restraining all exclamations and even show of feeling. After - a pause of dismay, I asked whither M. de Rosny had gone. - </p> - <p> - ‘To Rosny,’ was the answer. - </p> - <p> - ‘And Rosny?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Is beyond Chartres, pretty well all the way to Mantes,’ the man answered, - stroking my horse’s neck. ‘Say thirty leagues.’ - </p> - <p> - I turned my horse, and hurriedly communicated what he said to - mademoiselle, who was waiting a few paces away. Unwelcome to me, the news - was still less welcome to her. Her chagrin and indignation knew no bounds. - For a moment words failed her, but her flashing eyes said more than her - tongue as she cried to me: ‘Well, sir, and what now? Is this the end of - your fine promises? Where is your Rosny, if all be not a lying invention - of your own?’ - </p> - <p> - Feeling that she had some excuse I suppressed my choler, and humbly - repeating that Rosny was at his house, two days farther on, and that I - could see nothing for it but to go to him, I asked the landlord where we - could find a lodging for the night. - </p> - <p> - ‘Indeed, sir, that is more than I can say,’ he answered, looking curiously - at us, and thinking, I doubt not, that with my shabby cloak and fine - horse, and mademoiselle’s mask and spattered riding-coat, we were an odd - couple. ‘There is not an inn which is not full to the garrets—nay, - and the stables; and, what is more, people are chary of taking strangers - in. These are strange times. They say,’ be continued in a lower tone, - ‘that the old queen is dying up there, and will not last the night.’ - </p> - <p> - I nodded. ‘We must go somewhere’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘I would help you if I could,’ he answered, shrugging his shoulders. ‘But - there it is! Blois is full from the tiles to the cellars.’ - </p> - <p> - My horse shivered under me, and mademoiselle, whose patience was gone, - cried harshly to me to do something. ‘We cannot spend the night in the - streets,’ she said fiercely. - </p> - <p> - I saw that she was worn out and scarcely mistress of herself. The light - was falling, and with it some rain. The reek of the kennels and the close - air from the houses seemed to stifle us. The bell at the church behind us - was jangling out vespers. A few people, attracted by the sight of our - horses standing before the inn, had gathered round and were watching us. - </p> - <p> - Something I saw must be done, and done quickly. In despair, and seeing no - other resort, I broached a proposal of which I had not hitherto even - dreamed. ‘Mademoiselle,’ I said bluntly, ‘I must take you to my mother’s.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To your mother’s, sir?’ she cried, rousing herself. Her voice rang with - haughty surprise. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ I replied brusquely; ‘since, as you say, we cannot spend the night - in the streets, and I do not know where else I can dispose of you. From - the last advices I had I believe her to have followed the court hither. My - friend,’ I continued, turning to the landlord, ‘do you know by name a - Madame de Bonne, who should be in Blois?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A Madame de Bonne!’ he muttered, reflecting. ‘I have heard the name - lately. Wait a moment.’ Disappearing into the house, he returned almost - immediately, followed by a lanky pale-faced youth wearing a tattered black - soutane. ‘Yes,’ he said nodding, ‘there is a worthy lady of that name - lodging in the next street, I am told. As it happens, this young man lives - in the same house, and will guide you, if you like.’ - </p> - <p> - I assented, and, thanking him for his information, turned my horse and - requested the youth to lead the way. We had scarcely passed the corner of - the street, however, and entered one somewhat more narrow and less - frequented, when mademoiselle, who was riding behind me, stopped and - called to me. I drew rein, and, turning, asked what it was. - </p> - <p> - ‘I am not coming,’ she said, her voice trembling slightly, but whether - with alarm or anger I could not determine. ‘I know nothing of you, and I—I - demand to be taken to M. de Rosny.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If you cry that name aloud in the streets of Blois, mademoiselle,’ I - retorted, ‘you are like enough to be taken whither you will not care to - go! As for M. de Rosny, I have told you that he is not here. He has gone - to his seat at Mantes.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then take me to him!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘At this hour of the night?’ I said drily. ‘It is two days’ journey from - here.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then I will go to an inn,’ she replied sullenly. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have heard that there is no room in the inns’ I rejoined with what - patience I could. ‘And to go from inn to inn at this hour might lead us - into trouble. I can assure you that I am as much taken aback by M. de - Rosny’s absence as you are. For the present, we are close to my mother’s - lodging, and—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I know nothing of your mother!’ she exclaimed passionately, her voice - raised. ‘You have enticed me hither by false pretences, sir, and I will - endure it no longer. I will—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What you will do, I do not know then, mademoiselle,’ I replied, quite at - my wits’ end; for what with the rain and the darkness, the unknown streets—in - which our tarrying might at any moment collect a crowd—and this - stubborn girl’s opposition, I knew not whither to turn. ‘For my part I can - suggest nothing else. It does not become me to speak of my mother,’ I - continued, ‘or I might say that even Mademoiselle de la Vire need not be - ashamed to accept the hospitality of Madame de Bonne. Nor are my mother’s - circumstances,’ I added proudly, ‘though narrow, so mean as to deprive her - of the privileges of her birth.’ - </p> - <p> - My last words appeared to make some impression upon my companion. She - turned and spoke to her woman, who replied in a low voice, tossing her - head the while and glaring at me in speechless indignation. Had there been - anything else for it, they would doubtless have flouted my offer still; - but apparently Fanchette could suggest nothing, and presently - mademoiselle, with a sullen air, bade me lead on. - </p> - <p> - Taking this for permission, the lanky youth in the black soutane, who had - remained at my bridle throughout the discussion, now listening and now - staring, nodded and resumed his way; and I followed. After proceeding a - little more than fifty yards he stopped before a mean-looking doorway, - flanked by grated windows, and fronted by a lofty wall which I took to be - the back of some nobleman’s garden. The street at this point was - unlighted, and little better than an alley; nor was the appearance of the - house, which was narrow and ill-looking, though lofty, calculated, as far - as I could make it out is the darkness, to allay mademoiselle’s - suspicions. Knowing, however, that people of position are often obliged in - towns to lodge in poor houses, I thought nothing of this, and only strove - to get mademoiselle dismounted as quickly as possible. The lad groped - about and found two rings beside the door, and to these I tied up the - horses. Then, bidding him lead the way, and begging mademoiselle to - follow, I plunged into the darkness of the passage and felt my way to the - foot of the staircase, which was entirely unlighted, and smelled close and - unpleasant. - </p> - <p> - ‘Which floor?’ I asked my guide. - </p> - <p> - ‘The fourth,’ he answered quietly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Morbleu!’ I muttered, as I began to ascend, my hand on the wall. ‘What is - the meaning of this?’ - </p> - <p> - For I was perplexed. The revenues of Marsac, though small, should have - kept my mother, whom I had last seen in Paris before the Nemours edict, - in tolerable comfort—such modest comfort, at any rate, as could - scarcely be looked for in such a house as this—obscure, ill-tended, - unlighted. To my perplexity was added, before I reached the top of the - stairs, disquietude—disquietude on her account as well as on - mademoiselle’s. I felt that something was wrong, and would have given much - to recall the invitation I had pressed on the latter. - </p> - <p> - What the young lady thought herself I could pretty well guess, as I - listened to her hurried breathing at my shoulder. With every step I - expected her to refuse to go farther. But, having once made up her mind, - she followed me stubbornly, though the darkness was such that - involuntarily I loosened my dagger, and prepared to defend myself should - this turn out to be a trap. - </p> - <p> - We reached the top, however, without accident. Our guide knocked softly at - a door and immediately opened it without waiting for an answer. A feeble - light shone out on the stair-head, and bending my head, for the lintel was - low, I stepped into the room. - </p> - <p> - I advanced two paces and stood looking about me in angry bewilderment. The - bareness of extreme poverty marked everything on which my eyes rested. A - cracked earthenware lamp smoked and sputtered on a stool in the middle of - the rotting floor. An old black cloak nailed to the wall, and flapping to - and fro in the draught like some dead gallowsbird, hung in front of the - unglazed window. A jar in a corner caught the drippings from a hole in the - roof. An iron pot and a second stool—the latter casting a long - shadow across the floor—stood beside the handful of wood ashes, - which smouldered on the hearth. And that was all the furniture I saw, - except a bed which filled the farther end of the long narrow room, and was - curtained off so as to form a kind of miserable alcove. - </p> - <p> - A glance sufficed to show me all this, and that the room was empty, or - apparently empty. Yet I looked again and again, stupefied. At last finding - my voice, I turned to the young man who had brought us hither, and with a - fierce oath demanded of him what he meant. - </p> - <p> - He shrank back behind the open door, and yet; answered with a kind of - sullen surprise that I had asked for Madame de Bonne’s, and this was it. - </p> - <p> - ‘Madame de Bonne’s!’ I muttered. ‘This Madame de Bonne’s!’ - </p> - <p> - He nodded. - </p> - <p> - ‘Of course it is! And you know it!’ mademoiselle hissed in my ear, her - voice, as she interposed, hoarse with passion. ‘Don’t think that you can - deceive us any longer. We know all! This,’ she continued, looking round, - her cheeks scarlet, her eyes ablaze with scorn, ‘is your mother’s, is it! - Your mother who has followed the court hither—whose means are - narrow, but not so small as to deprive her of the privileges of her rank! - This is your mother’s hospitality, is it? You are a cheat, sir! and a - detected cheat! Let us begone! Let me go, sir, I say!’ - </p> - <p> - Twice I had tried to stop the current of her words; but in vain. Now with - anger which surpassed hers a hundredfold—for who, being a man, would - hear himself misnamed before his mother?—I succeeded, ‘Silence, - mademoiselle!’ I cried, my grasp on her wrist. ‘Silence, I say! This is my - mother!’ - </p> - <p> - And running forward to the bed, I fell on my knees beside it. A feeble - hand had half withdrawn the curtain, and through the gap my mother’s - stricken face looked out, a great fear stamped upon it. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII. SIMON FLEIX - </h2> - <p> - For some minutes I forgot mademoiselle in paying those assiduous - attentions to my mother which her state and my duty demanded; and which I - offered the more anxiously that I recognised, with a sinking heart, the - changes which age and illness had made in her since my last visit. The - shock of mademoiselle’s words had thrown her into a syncope, from which - she did not recover for some time; and then rather through the assistance - of our strange guide, who seemed well aware what to do, than through my - efforts. Anxious as I was to learn what had reduced her to such straits - and such a place, this was not the time to satisfy my curiosity, and I - prepared myself instead for the task of effacing the painful impression - which mademoiselle’s words had made on her mind. - </p> - <p> - On first coming to herself she did not remember them, but, content to find - me by her side—for there is something so alchemic in a mother’s love - that I doubt not my presence changed her garret to a palace—she - spent herself in feeble caresses and broken words. Presently, however, her - eye falling on mademoiselle and her maid, who remained standing by the - hearth, looking darkly at us from time to time, she recalled, first the - shock which had prostrated her, and then its cause, and raising herself on - her elbow, looked about her wildly. ‘Gaston!’ she cried, clutching my hand - with her thin fingers, ‘what was it I heard? It was of you someone spoke—a - woman! She called you—or did I dream it?—a cheat! You!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Madame, madame,’ I said, striving to speak carelessly, though the sight; - of her grey hair, straggling and dishevelled, moved me strangely, ‘was it; - likely? Would anyone dare to use such expressions of me is your presence? - You must indeed have dreamed it!’ - </p> - <p> - The words, however, returning more and more vividly to her mind, she - looked at me very pitifully, and in great agitation laid her arm on my - neck, as though she would shelter me with the puny strength which just - enabled her to rise in bed. ‘But someone,’ she muttered, her eyes on the - strangers, ‘said it, Gaston? I heard it. What did it mean?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What you heard, madame,’ I answered, with an attempt at gaiety, though - the tears stood in my eyes, ‘was, doubtless, mademoiselle here scolding - our guide from Tours, who demanded three times the proper POURBOIRE. The - impudent rascal deserved all that was said to him, I assure you.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Was that it?’ she murmured doubtfully. - </p> - <p> - ‘That must have been what you heard, madame,’ I answered, as if I felt no - doubt. - </p> - <p> - She fell back with a sigh of relief, and a little colour came into her wan - face. But her eyes still dwelt curiously, and with apprehension, on - mademoiselle, who stood looking sullenly into the fire; and seeing this my - heart misgave me sorely that I had done a foolish thing in bringing the - girl there. I foresaw a hundred questions which would be asked, and a - hundred complications which must ensue, and felt already the blush of - shame mounting to my cheek. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who is that?’ my mother asked softly. ‘I am ill. She must excuse me.’ She - pointed with her fragile finger to my companions. - </p> - <p> - I rose, and still keeping her hand in mine, turned so as to face the - hearth. ‘This, madame,’ I answered formally, ‘is Mademoiselle—, but - her name I will commit to you later, and in private. Suffice it to say - that she is a lady of rank, who has been committed to my charge by a high - personage.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A high personage?’ my mother repeated gently, glancing at me with a smile - of gratification. - </p> - <p> - ‘One of the highest,’ I said, ‘Such a charge being a great honour to me, I - felt that I could not better execute it madame, since we must lie in Blois - one night, than by requesting your hospitality on her behalf.’ - </p> - <p> - I dared mademoiselle as I spoke—I dared her with my eye to - contradict or interrupt me. For answer, she looked at me once, inclining - her head a little, and gazing at us from under her long eyelashes. Then - she turned back to the fire, and her foot resumed its angry tapping on the - floor. - </p> - <p> - ‘I regret that I cannot receive her better,’ my mother answered feebly. ‘I - have had losses of late. I—but I will speak of that at another time. - Mademoiselle doubtless knows,’ she continued with dignity, ‘you and your - position in the south too well to think ill of the momentary straits to - which she finds me reduced.’ - </p> - <p> - I saw mademoiselle start, and I writhed under the glance of covert scorn, - of amazed indignation, which she shot at me. But my mother gently patting - my hand, I answered patiently, ‘Mademoiselle will think only what is kind, - madame—of that I am assured. And lodgings are scarce to-night in - Blois.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But tell me of yourself, Gaston,’ my mother cried eagerly; and I had not - the heart, with her touch on my hand, her eyes on my face, to tear myself - away, much as I dreaded what was coming, and longed to end the scene. - ‘Tell me of yourself. You are still in favour with the king of—I - will not name him here?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Still, madame,’ I answered, looking steadily at mademoiselle, though my - face burned. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are still—he consults you, Gaston?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Still, madame.’ - </p> - <p> - My mother heaved a happy sigh, and sank lower in the bed. ‘And your - employments?’ she murmured, her voice trembling with gratification. ‘They - have not been reduced? You still retain them, Gaston?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Still, madame,’ I answered, the perspiration standing on my brow, my - shame almost more than I could bear. - </p> - <p> - ‘Twelve thousand livres a year, I think?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The same, madame.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And your establishment? How many do you keep now? Your valet, of course? - And lackeys—how many at present?’ She glanced, with an eye of pride, - while she waited for my answer, first at the two silent figures by the - fire, then at the poverty-stricken room; as if the sight of its bareness - heightened for her the joy of my prosperity. - </p> - <p> - She had no suspicion of my trouble, my misery, or that the last question - almost filled the cup too full. Hitherto all had been easy, but this - seemed to choke me. I stammered and lost my voice. Mademoiselle, her head - bowed, was gazing into the fire. Fanchette was staring at me, her black - eyes round as saucers, her mouth half-open. ‘Well, madame,’ I muttered at - length, ‘to tell you the truth, at present, you must understand, I have - been forced to—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What, Gaston?’ Madame de Bonne half rose in bed. Her voice was sharp with - disappointment and apprehension; the grasp of her fingers on my hand grew - closer. - </p> - <p> - I could not resist that appeal. I flung away the last rag of shame. ‘To - reduce my establishment somewhat,’ I answered, looking a miserable - defiance at mademoiselle’s averted figure. She had called me a liar and a - cheat—here in the room! I must stand before her a liar and a cheat - confessed. ‘I keep but three lackeys now, madame.’ - </p> - <p> - Still it is creditable,’ my mother muttered thoughtfully, her eyes - shining. ‘Your dress, however, Gaston—only my eyes are weak—seems - to me—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut! It is but a disguise,’ I answered quickly. - </p> - <p> - ‘I might have known that,’ she rejoined, sinking back with a smile and a - sigh of content. ‘But when I first saw you I was almost afraid that - something had happened to you. And I have been uneasy lately,’ she went - on, releasing my hand, and beginning to play with the coverlet, as though - the remembrance troubled her. ‘There was a man here a while ago—a - friend of Simon Fleix there—who had been south to Pau and Nerac, and - he said there was no M. de Marsac about the Court.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He probably knew less of the Court than the wine-tavern,’ I answered with - a ghastly smile. - </p> - <p> - ‘That was just what I told him,’ my mother responded quickly and eagerly. - ‘I warrant you I sent him away ill-satisfied.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Of course,’ I said; ‘there will always be people of that kind. But now, - if you will permit me, madame, I will make such arrangements for - mademoiselle as are necessary.’ - </p> - <p> - Begging her accordingly to lie down and compose herself—for even so - short a conversation, following on the excitement of our arrival, had - exhausted her to a painful degree—I took the youth, who had just - returned from stabling our horses, a little aside, and learning that he - lodged in a smaller chamber on the farther side of the landing, secured it - for the use of mademoiselle and her woman. In spite of a certain - excitability which marked him at times, he seemed to be a quick, ready - fellow, and he willingly undertook to go out, late as it was, and procure - some provisions and a few other things which were sadly needed, as well - for my mother’s comfort as for our own. I directed Fanchette to aid him in - the preparation of the other chamber, and thus for a while I was left - alone with mademoiselle. She had taken one of the stools, and sat cowering - over the fire, the hood of her cloak drawn about her head; in such a - manner that even when she looked at me, which she did from time to time, I - saw little more than her eyes, bright with contemptuous anger. - </p> - <p> - ‘So, sir,’ she presently began, speaking in a low voice, and turning - slightly towards me, ‘you practise lying even here?’ - </p> - <p> - I felt so strongly the futility of denial or explanation that I shrugged - my shoulders and remained silent under the sneer. Two more days—two - more days would take us to Rosny, and my task would be done, and - Mademoiselle and I would part for good and all. What would it matter then - what she thought of me? What did it matter now? - </p> - <p> - For the first time in our intercourse my silence seemed to disconcert and - displease her. ‘Have you nothing to say for yourself?’ she muttered - sharply, crushing a fragment of charcoal under her foot, and stooping to - peer at the ashes. ‘Have you not another lie in your quiver, M. de - Marsac?’ De Marsac!’ And she repeated the title, with a scornful laugh, as - if she put no faith in my claim to it. - </p> - <p> - But I would answer nothing—nothing; and we remained silent until - Fanchette, coming in to say that the chamber was ready, held the light for - her mistress to pass out. I told the woman to come back and fetch - mademoiselle’s supper, and then, being left alone with my mother, who had - fallen asleep, with a smile on her thin, worn face, I began to wonder what - had happened to reduce her to such dire poverty. - </p> - <p> - I feared to agitate her by referring to it; but later in the evening, when - her curtains were drawn and Simon Fleix and I were left together, eyeing - one another across the embers like dogs of different breeds—with a - certain strangeness and suspicion—my thoughts recurred to the - question; and determining first to learn something about my companion, - whose pale, eager face and tattered, black dress gave him a certain - individuality, I asked him whether he had come from Paris with Madame de - Bonne. - </p> - <p> - He nodded without speaking. - </p> - <p> - I asked him if he had known her long. - </p> - <p> - ‘Twelve months,’ he answered. ‘I lodged on the fifth, madame on the - second, floor of the same house in Paris.’ - </p> - <p> - I leaned forward and plucked the hem of his black robe. ‘What is this?’ I - said, with a little contempt. ‘You are not a priest, man.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No,’ he answered, fingering the stuff himself, and gazing at me in a - curious, vacant fashion. ‘I am a student of the Sorbonne.’ - </p> - <p> - I drew off from him with a muttered oath, wondering—while I looked - at him with suspicious eyes—how he came to be here, and particularly - how he came to be in attendance on my mother, who had been educated from - childhood in the Religion, and had professed it in private all her life. I - could think of no one who, in old days, would have been less welcome in - her house than a Sorbonnist, and began to fancy that here should lie the - secret of her miserable condition. - </p> - <p> - ‘You don’t like, the Sorbonne?’ he said, reading my thoughts; which were, - indeed, plain enough. - </p> - <p> - ‘No more than I love the devil!’ I said bluntly. - </p> - <p> - He leaned forward and, stretching out a thin, nervous hand, laid it on my - knee. ‘What if they are right, though?’ he muttered, his voice hoarse. - ‘What if they are right, M. de Marsac?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Who right?’ I asked roughly, drawing back afresh. - </p> - <p> - ‘The Sorbonne.’ he repeated, his face red with excitement, his eyes - peering uncannily into mine. ‘Don’t you see,’ he continued, pinching my - knee in his earnestness, and thrusting his face nearer and nearer to mine, - ‘it all turns on that? It all turns on that—salvation or damnation! - Are they right? Are you right? You say yes to this, no to that, you - white-coats; and you say it lightly, but are you right? Are you right? Mon - Dieu!’ he continued, drawing back abruptly and clawing the air with - impatience, ‘I have read, read, read! I have listened to sermons, theses, - disputations, and I know nothing. I know no more than when I began.’ - </p> - <p> - He sprang up and began to pace the floor, while I gazed at him with a - feeling of pity. A very learned person once told me that the troubles of - these times bred four kinds of men, who were much to be compassionated: - fanatics on the one side or the other, who lost sight of all else in the - intensity of their faith; men who, like Simon Fleix, sought desperately - after something to believe, and found it not; and lastly, scoffers, who, - believing in nothing, looked on all religion as a mockery. - </p> - <p> - He presently stopped walking—in his utmost excitement I remarked - that he never forgot my mother, but trod more lightly when he drew near - the alcove—and spoke again. ‘You are a Huguenot?’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ I replied. - </p> - <p> - ‘So is she,’ he rejoined, pointing towards the bed. ‘But do you feel no - doubts?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘None,’ I said quietly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nor does she.’ he answered again, stopping opposite me. You made up your - mind—how?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I was born in the Religion,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘And you have never questioned it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Never.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nor thought much about it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Not a great deal,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Saint Gris!’ he exclaimed in a low tone. ‘And do you never think of - hell-fire—of the worm which dieth not, and the fire which shall not - be quenched? Do you never think of that, M. de Marsac?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, my friend, never!’ I answered, rising impatiently; for at that hour, - and in that silent, gloomy room I found his conversation dispiriting. ‘I - believe what I was taught to believe, and I strive to hurt no one but the - enemy. I think little; and if I were you I would think less. I would do - something, man—fight, play, work, anything but think! I leave that - to clerks.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am a clerk,’ he answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘A poor one, it seems,’ I retorted, with a little scorn in my tone. ‘Leave - it, man. Work! Fight! Do something!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Fight?’ he said, as if the idea were a novel one. ‘Fight? But there, I - might be killed; and then hell-fire, you see!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Zounds, man!’ I cried, out of patience with a folly which, to tell the - truth, the lamp burning low, and the rain pattering on the roof, made the - skin of my back feel cold and creepy. ‘Enough of this! Keep your doubts - and your fire to yourself! And answer me,’ I continued, sternly. ‘How came - Madame de Bonne so poor? How did she come down to this place?’ - </p> - <p> - He sat down on his stool, the excitement dying quickly out of his face. - ‘She gave away all her money,’ he said slowly and reluctantly. It may be - imagined that this answer surprised me. ‘Gave it away?’ I exclaimed. ‘To - whom? And when?’ - </p> - <p> - He moved uneasily on his seat and avoided my eye, his altered manner - filling me with suspicions which the insight I had just obtained into his - character did not altogether preclude. At last he said, ‘I had nothing to - do with it, if you mean that; nothing. On the contrary, I have done all I - could to make it up to her. I followed her here. I swear that is so, M. de - Marsac.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You have not told me yet to whom she gave it,’ I said sternly. - </p> - <p> - ‘She gave it,’ he muttered, ‘to a priest.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To what priest?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I do not know his name. He is a Jacobin.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And why?’ I asked, gazing incredulously at the student. ‘Why did she give - it to him? Come, come! have a care. Let me have none of your Sorbonne - inventions!’ - </p> - <p> - He hesitated a moment, looking at me timidly, and then seemed to make up - his mind to tell me. ‘He found out—it was when we lived in Paris, - you understand, last June—that she was a Huguenot. It was about the - time they burned the Foucards, and he frightened her with that, and made - her pay him money, a little at first, and then more and more, to keep her - secret. When the king came to Blois she followed his Majesty, thinking to - be safer here; but the priest came too, and got more money, and more, - until he left her—this.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘This!’ I said. And I set my teeth together. - </p> - <p> - Simon Fleix nodded. - </p> - <p> - I looked round the wretched garret to which my mother had been reduced, - and pictured the days and hours of fear and suspense through which she had - lived; through which she must have lived, with that caitiff’s threat - hanging over her grey head! I thought of her birth and her humiliation; of - her frail form and patient, undying love for me; and solemnly, and before - heaven, I swore that night to punish the man. My anger was too great for - words, and for tears I was too old. I asked Simon Fleix no more questions, - save when the priest might be looked for again—which he could not - tell me—and whether he would know him again—to which he - answered, ‘Yes.’ But, wrapping myself in my cloak, I lay down by the fire - and pondered long and sadly. - </p> - <p> - So, while I had been pinching there, my mother had been starving here. She - had deceived me, and I her. The lamp flickered, throwing uncertain shadows - as the draught tossed the strange window-curtain to and fro. The leakage - from the roof fell drop by drop, and now and again the wind shook the - crazy building, as though it would lift it up bodily and carry it away. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII. AN EMPTY ROOM. - </h2> - <p> - Desiring to start as early as possible, that we might reach Rosny on the - second evening, I roused Simon Fleix before it was light, and learning - from him where the horses were stabled, went out to attend to them; - preferring to do this myself, that I might have an opportunity of seeking - out a tailor, and providing myself with clothes better suited to my rank - than those to which I had been reduced of late. I found that I still had - ninety crowns left of the sum which the King of Navarre had given me, and - twelve of these I laid out on a doublet of black cloth with russet points - and ribands, a dark cloak lined with the same sober colour, and a new cap - and feather. The tradesman would fain have provided me with a new scabbard - also, seeing my old one was worn-out at the heel; but this I declined, - having a fancy to go with my point bare until I should have punished the - scoundrel who had made my mother’s failing days a misery to her; a - business which, the King of Navarre’s once done, I promised myself to - pursue with energy and at all costs. - </p> - <p> - The choice of my clothes, and a few alterations which it was necessary to - make in them, detained me some time, so that it was later than I could - have wished when I turned my face towards the house again, bent on getting - my party to horse as speedily as possible. The morning, I remember, was - bright, frosty, and cold; the kennels were dry, the streets comparatively - clean. Here and there a ray of early sunshine, darting between the - overhanging eaves, gave promise of glorious travelling-weather. But the - faces, I remarked in my walk, did not reflect the surrounding - cheerfulness. Moody looks met me everywhere and on every side; and while - courier after courier galloped by me bound for the castle, the townsfolk - stood aloof is doorways listless and inactive, or, gathering in groups in - corners, talked what I took to be treason under the breath. The - queen-mother still lived, but Orleans had revolted, and Sens and Mans, - Chartres and Melun. Rouen was said to be wavering, Lyons in arms, while - Paris had deposed her king, and cursed him daily from a hundred altars. En - fin, the great rebellion which followed the death of Guise, and lasted so - many years, was already in progress; so that on this first day of the new - year the king’s writ scarce ran farther than he could see, peering - anxiously out from the towers above my head. - </p> - <p> - Reaching the house, I climbed the long staircase hastily, abusing its - darkness and foulness, and planning as I went how my mother might most - easily and quickly be moved to a better lodging. Gaining the top of the - last flight, I saw that mademoiselle’s door on the left of the landing was - open, and concluding from this that she was up, and ready to start, I - entered my mother’s room with a brisk step and spirits reinforced by the - crisp morning air. - </p> - <p> - But on the threshold I stopped, and stood silent and amazed. At first I - thought the room was empty. Then, at a second glance, I saw the student. - He was on his knees beside the bed in the alcove, from which the curtain - had been partially dragged away. The curtain before the window had been - torn down also, and the cold light of day, pouring in on the unsightly - bareness of the room, struck a chill to my heart. A stool lay overturned - by the fire, and above it a grey cat, which I had not hitherto noticed, - crouched on a beam and eyed me with stealthy fierceness. Mademoiselle was - not to be seen, nor was Fanchette, and Simon Fleix did not hear me. He was - doing something at the bed—for my mother it seemed. - </p> - <p> - ‘What is it, man?’ I cried softly, advancing on tiptoe to the bedside. - ‘Where are the others?’ - </p> - <p> - The student looked round and saw me. His face was pale and gloomy. His - eyes burned, and yet there were tears in them, and on his cheeks. He did - not speak, but the chilliness, the bareness, the emptiness of the room - spoke for him, and my heart sank. - </p> - <p> - I took him by the shoulders. ‘Find your tongue, man!’ I said angrily. - ‘Where are they?’ - </p> - <p> - He rose from his knees and stood staring at me. ‘They are gone!’ he said - stupidly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Gone?’ I exclaimed. ‘Impossible! When? Whither?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Half an hour ago. Whither—I do not know.’ - </p> - <p> - Confounded and amazed, I glared at him between fear and rage. ‘You do not - know?’ I cried. ‘They are gone, and you do not know?’ - </p> - <p> - He turned suddenly on me and gripped my arm. ‘No, I do not know! I do not - know!’ he cried, with a complete change of manner and in a tone of fierce - excitement. ‘Only, may the fiend go with them! But I do know this. I know - this, M. de Marsac, with whom they went, these friends of yours! A fop - came, a dolt, a fine spark, and gave them fine words and fine speeches and - a gold token, and, hey presto! they went, and forgot you!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What!’ I cried, beginning to understand, and snatching fiercely at the - one clue in his speech. ‘A gold token? They have been decoyed away then! - There is no time to be lost. I must follow.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, for that is not all!’ he replied, interrupting me sternly, while his - grasp on my arm grew tighter and his eyes flashed as they looked into - mine. ‘You have not heard all. They have gone with one who called you an - impostor, and a thief, and a beggar, and that to your mother’s face—and - killed her! Killed her as surely as if he had taken a sword to her, M. de - Marsac! Will you, after that, leave her for them?’ - </p> - <p> - He spoke plainly. And yet, God forgive me, it was some time before I - understood him: before I took in the meaning of his words, or could - transfer my thoughts from the absent to my mother lying on the bed before - me. When I did do so, and turned to her, and saw her still face and thin - hair straggling over the coarse pillow, then, indeed, the sight overcame - me. I thought no more of others—for I thought her dead; and with a - great and bitter cry I fell on my knees beside her and hid my face. What, - after all, was this headstrong girl to me? What were even kings and king’s - commissions to me beside her—beside the one human being who loved me - still, the one being of my blood and name left, the one ever-patient, - ever-constant heart which for years had beaten only for me? For a while, - for a few moments, I was worthy of her; for I forgot all others. - </p> - <p> - Simon Fleix roused me at last from my stupor, making me understand that - she was not dead, but in a deep swoon, the result of the shock she had - undergone. A leech, for whom he had despatched a neighbour, came in as I - rose, and taking my place, presently restored her to consciousness. But - her extreme feebleness warned me not to hope for more than a temporary - recovery; nor had I sat by her long before I discerned that this last - blow, following on so many fears and privations, had reached a vital part, - and that she was even now dying. - </p> - <p> - She lay for a while with her hand in mine and her eyes closed, but about - noon, the student, contriving to give her some broth, she revived, and, - recognising me, lay for more than an hour gazing at me with unspeakable - content and satisfaction. At the end of that time, and when I thought she - was past speaking, she signed to me to bend over her, and whispered - something, which at first I could not catch. Presently I made it out to - be, ‘She is gone—The girl you brought?’ - </p> - <p> - Much troubled, I answered yes, begging her not to think about the matter. - I need not have feared, however, for when she spoke again she did so - without emotion, and rather as one seeing clearly something before her. - </p> - <p> - ‘When you find her, Gaston,’ she murmured, ‘do not be angry with her. It - was not her fault. She—he deceived her. See!’ - </p> - <p> - I followed the direction rather of her eyes than her hand, and found - beneath the pillow a length of gold chain. ‘She left that?’ I murmured, a - strange tumult of emotions in my breast. - </p> - <p> - ‘She laid it there,’ my mother whispered. ‘And she would have stopped him - saying what he did’—a shudder ran through my mother’s frame at the - remembrance of the man’s words, though her eyes still gazed into mine with - faith and confidence—‘she would have stopped him, but she could not, - Gaston. And then he hurried her away.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He showed her a token, madame, did he not?’ I could not for my life - repress the question, so much seemed to turn on the point. - </p> - <p> - ‘A bit of gold,’ my mother whispered, smiling faintly. ‘Now let me sleep.’ - And, clinging always to my hand, she closed her eyes. - </p> - <p> - The student came back soon afterwards with some comforts for which I had - despatched him, and we sat by her until the evening fell, and far into the - night. It was a relief to me to learn from the leech that she had been - ailing for some time, and that in any case the end must have come soon. - She suffered no pain and felt no fears, but meeting my eyes whenever she - opened her own, or came out of the drowsiness which possessed her, thanked - God, I think, and was content. As for me, I remember that room became, for - the time, the world. Its stillness swallowed up all the tumults which - filled the cities of France, and its one interest the coming and going of - a feeble breath—eclipsed the ambitions and hopes of a lifetime. - </p> - <p> - Before it grew light Simon Fleix stole out to attend to the horses. When - he returned he came to me and whispered in my ear that he had something to - tell me; and my mother lying in a quiet sleep at the time, I disengaged my - hand, and, rising softly, went with him to the hearth. - </p> - <p> - Instead of speaking, he held his fist before me and suddenly unclosed the - fingers. ‘Do you know it?’ he said, glancing at me abruptly. - </p> - <p> - I took what he held, and looking at it, nodded. It was a knot of velvet of - a peculiar dark red colour, and had formed, as I knew the moment I set - eyes on it, part of the fastening of mademoiselle’s mask. ‘Where did you - find it?’ I muttered, supposing that he had picked it up on the stairs. - </p> - <p> - ‘Look at it!’ he answered impatiently. ‘You have not looked.’ - </p> - <p> - I turned it over, and then saw something which had escaped me at first—that - the wider part of the velvet was disfigured by a fantastic stitching, done - very roughly and rudely with a thread of white silk. The stitches formed - letters, the letters words. With a start I read, ‘A MOI!’ and saw in a - corner, in smaller stitches, the initials ‘C. d. l. V.’ - </p> - <p> - I looked eagerly at the student. ‘Where did you find this?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘I picked it up in the street,’ he answered quietly, ‘not three hundred - paces from here.’ - </p> - <p> - I thought a moment. ‘In the gutter, or near the wall?’ I asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘Near the wall, to be sure.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Under a window?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Precisely,’ he said. ‘You may be easy; I am not a fool. I marked the - place, M. de Marsac, and shall not forget it.’ - </p> - <p> - Even the sorrow and solicitude I felt on my mother’s behalf—feelings - which had seemed a minute before to secure me against all other cares or - anxieties whatever—were not proof against this discovery. For I - found myself placed in a strait so cruel I must suffer either way. On the - one hand, I could not leave my mother; I were a heartless ingrate to do - that. On the other, I could not, without grievous pain, stand still and - inactive while Mademoiselle de la Vire, whom I had sworn to protect, and - who was now suffering through my laches and mischance, appealed to me for - help. For I could not doubt that this was what the bow of velvet meant; - still less that it was intended for me, since few save myself would be - likely to recognise it, and she would naturally expect me to make some - attempt at pursuit. - </p> - <p> - And I could not think little of the sign. Remembering mademoiselle’s proud - and fearless spirit, and the light in which she had always regarded me, I - augured the worst from it. I felt assured that no imaginary danger and no - emergency save the last would have induced her to stoop so low; and this - consideration, taken with the fear I felt that she had fallen into the - hands of Fresnoy, whom I believed to be the person who had robbed me of - the gold coin, filled me with a horrible doubt which way my duty lay. I - was pulled, as it were, both ways. I felt my honour engaged both to go and - to stay, and while my hand went to my hilt, and my feet trembled to be - gone, my eyes sought my mother, and my ears listened for her gentle - breathing. - </p> - <p> - Perplexed and distracted, I looked at the student, and he at me. ‘You saw - the man who took her away,’ I muttered. Hitherto, in my absorption on my - mother’s account, I had put few questions, and let the matter pass as - though it moved me little and concerned me less. ‘What was he like? Was he - a big, bloated man, Simon, with his head bandaged, or perhaps a wound on - his face?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The gentleman who went away with mademoiselle, do you mean?’ he asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, yes, gentleman if you like!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Not at all,’ the student answered. ‘He was a tall young gallant, very - gaily dressed, dark-haired, and with a rich complexion, I heard him tell - her that he came from a friend of hers too high to be named in public or - in Blois. He added that he brought a token from him; and when mademoiselle - mentioned you—she had just entered madame’s room with her woman when - he appeared—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He had watched me out, of course.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Just so. Well, when she mentioned you, he swore you were an adventurer, - and a beggarly impostor, and what not, and bade her say whether she - thought it likely that her friend would have entrusted such a mission to - such a man.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And then she went with him?’ - </p> - <p> - The student nodded. - </p> - <p> - ‘Readily? Of her own free-will?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Certainly,’ he answered. ‘It seemed so to me. She tried to prevent him - speaking before your mother, but that was all.’ - </p> - <p> - On the impulse of the moment I took a step towards the door; recollecting - my position, I turned back with a groan. Almost beside myself, and longing - for any vent for my feelings, I caught the lad by the shoulder, where he - stood on the hearth, and shook him to and fro. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tell me, man, what am I to do?’ I said between my teeth. ‘Speak! think! - invent something!’ - </p> - <p> - But he shook his head. - </p> - <p> - I let him go with a muttered oath, and sat down on a stool by the bed and - took my head between my hands. At that very moment, however, relief came—came - from an unexpected quarter. The door opened and the leech entered. He was - a skilful man, and, though much employed about the Court, a Huguenot—a - fact which had emboldened Simon Fleix to apply to him through the landlord - of the ‘Bleeding Heart,’ the secret rendezvous of the Religion in Blois. - When he had made his examination he was for leaving, being a grave and - silent man, and full of business, but at the door I stopped him. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, sir?’ I said in a low tone, my hand on his cloak. - </p> - <p> - ‘She has rallied, and may live three days,’ he answered quietly. ‘Four, it - may be, and as many more as God wills.’ - </p> - <p> - Pressing two crowns into his hand, I begged him to call daily, which he - promised to do; and then he went. My mother was still dozing peacefully, - and I turned to Simon Fleix, my doubts resolved and my mind made up. - </p> - <p> - ‘Listen,’ I said, ‘and answer me shortly. We cannot both leave; that is - certain. Yet I must go, and at once, to the place where you found the - velvet knot. Do you describe the spot exactly, so that I may find it, and - make no mistake.’ - </p> - <p> - He nodded, and after a moment’s reflection answered, - </p> - <p> - ‘You know the Rue St. Denys, M. de Marsac? Well, go down it, keeping the - “Bleeding Heart” on your left. Take the second turning on the same side - after passing the inn. The third house from the corner, on the left again, - consists of a gateway leading to the Hospital of the Holy Cross. Above the - gateway are two windows in the lower story, and above them two more. The - knot lay below the first window you come to. Do you understand?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Perfectly,’ I said. ‘It is something to be a clerk, Simon.’ - </p> - <p> - He looked at me thoughtfully, but added nothing; and I was busy tightening - my sword-hilt, and disposing my cloak about the lower part of my face. - When I had arranged this to my satisfaction, I took out and counted over - the sum of thirty-five crowns, which I gave to him, impressing on him the - necessity of staying beside my mother should I not return; for though I - proposed to reconnoitre only, and learn if possible whether mademoiselle - was still in Blois, the future was uncertain, and whereas I was known to - my enemies, they were strangers to me. - </p> - <p> - Having enjoined this duty upon him, I bade my mother a silent farewell, - and, leaving the room, went slowly down the stairs, the picture of her - worn and patient face going with me, and seeming, I remember, to hallow - the purpose I had in my mind. - </p> - <p> - The clocks were striking the hour before noon as I stepped from the - doorway, and, standing a moment in the lane, looked this way and that for - any sign of espionage. I could detect none, however. The lane was - deserted; and feeling assured that any attempt to mislead my opponents, - who probably knew Blois better than I did, must fail, I made none, but - deliberately took my way towards the ‘Bleeding Heart,’ in the Rue St. - Denys. The streets presented the same appearance of gloomy suspense which - I had noticed on the previous day. The same groups stood about in the same - corners, the same suspicious glances met me in common with all other - strangers who showed themselves; the same listless inaction characterised - the townsfolk, the same anxious hurry those who came and went with news. I - saw that even here, under the walls of the palace, the bonds of law and - order were strained almost to bursting, and judged that if there ever was - a time in France when right counted for little, and the strong hand for - much, it was this. Such a state of things was not unfavourable to my - present design, and caring little for suspicious looks, I went resolutely - on my way. - </p> - <p> - I had no difficulty in finding the gateway of which Simon had spoken, or - in identifying the window beneath which he had picked up the velvet knot. - An alley opening almost opposite, I took advantage of this to examine the - house at my leisure, and remarked at once, that whereas the lower window - was guarded only by strong shutters, now open, that in the story above was - heavily barred. Naturally I concentrated my attention on the latter. The - house, an old building of stone, seemed sufficiently reputable, nor could - I discern anything about it which would have aroused my distrust had the - knot been found elsewhere. It bore the arms of a religious brotherhood, - and had probably at one time formed the principal entrance to the - hospital, which still stood behind it, but it had now come, as I judged, - to be used as a dwelling of the better class. Whether the two floors were - separately inhabited or not I failed to decide. - </p> - <p> - After watching it for some time without seeing anyone pass in or out, or - anything occurring to enlighten me one way or the other, I resolved to - venture in, the street being quiet and the house giving no sign of being - strongly garrisoned. The entrance lay under the archway, through a door on - the right side. I judged from what I saw that the porter was probably - absent, busying himself with his gossips in matters of State. - </p> - <p> - And this proved to be the case, for when I had made the passage of the - street with success, and slipped quietly in through the half-open door, I - found only his staff and charcoal-pan there to represent him. A single - look satisfied me on that point; forthwith, without hesitation, I turned - to the stairs and began to mount, assured that if I would effect anything - single-handed I must trust to audacity and surprise rather than to caution - or forethought. - </p> - <p> - The staircase was poorly lighted by loopholes looking towards the rear, - but it was clean and well-kept. Silence, broken only by the sound of my - footsteps, prevailed throughout the house, and all seemed so regular and - decent and orderly that the higher I rose the lower fell my hopes of - success. Still, I held resolutely on until I reached the second floor and - stood before a closed door. The moment had come to put all to the touch. I - listened for a few seconds but hearing nothing, cautiously lifted the - latch. Somewhat to my surprise the door yielded to my hand, and I entered. - </p> - <p> - A high settle stood inside, interrupting my view of the room, which seemed - to be spacious and full of rich stuffs and furniture, but low in the roof, - and somewhat dimly lighted by two windows rather wide than high. The warm - glow of a fire shone on the woodwork of the ceiling, and as I softly - closed the door a log on the hearth gave way, with a crackling of sparks, - which pleasantly broke the luxurious silence. The next moment a low, sweet - voice asked, ‘Alphonse, is that you?’ - </p> - <p> - I walked round the settle and came face to face with a beautiful woman - reclining on a couch. On hearing the door open she had raised herself on - her elbow. Now, seeing a stranger before her, she sprang up with a low - cry, and stood gazing at me, her face expressing both astonishment and - anger. She was of middling height, her features regular though somewhat - childlike, her complexion singularly fair. A profusion of golden hair hung - in disorder about her neck, and matched the deep blue of her eyes, wherein - it seemed to me, there lurked more spirit and fire than the general cast - of her features led one to expect. - </p> - <p> - After a moment’s silence, during which she scanned me from head to foot - with great haughtiness—and I her with curiosity and wonder—she - spoke. ‘Sir!’ she said slowly, ‘to what am I to attribute this—visit?’ - </p> - <p> - For the moment I was so taken aback by her appearance and extraordinary - beauty, as well as by the absence of any sign of those I sought, that I - could not gather my thoughts to reply, but stood looking vaguely at her. I - had expected, when I entered the room, something so different from this! - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, sir?’ she said again, speaking sharply, and tapping her foot on the - floor. - </p> - <p> - ‘This visit, madame?’ I stammered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Call it intrusion, sir, if you please!’ she cried imperiously. ‘Only - explain it, or begone.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I crave leave to do both, madame,’ I answered, collecting myself by an - effort. ‘I ascended these stairs and opened your door in error—that - is the simple fact—hoping to find a friend of mine here. I was - mistaken, it seems, and it only remains for me to withdraw, offering at - the same time the humblest apologies,’ And as I spoke I bowed low and - prepared to retire. - </p> - <p> - ‘One moment, sir!’ she said quickly, and in an altered tone. ‘You are, - perhaps, a friend of M. de Bruhl—of my husband. In that case, if you - desire to leave any message I will—I shall be glad to deliver it.’ - </p> - <p> - She looked so charming that, despite the tumult of my feelings, I could - not but regard her with admiration. ‘Alas! madame, I cannot plead that - excuse,’ I answered. ‘I regret that I have not the honour of his - acquaintance.’ - </p> - <p> - She eyed me with some surprise. ‘Yet still, sir,’ she answered, smiling a - little, and toying with a gold brooch which clasped her habit, ‘you must - have had some ground, some reason, for supposing you would find a friend - here?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘True, madame,’ I answered, ‘but I was mistaken.’ - </p> - <p> - I saw her colour suddenly. With a smile and a faint twinkle of the eye she - said, ‘It is not possible, sir, I suppose—you have not come here, I - mean, out of any reason connected with a—a knot of velvet, for - instance?’ - </p> - <p> - I started, and involuntarily advanced a step towards her. ‘A knot of - velvet!’ I exclaimed, with emotion. ‘Mon Dieu! Then I was not mistaken! I - have come to the right house, and you—you know something of this! - Madame,’ I continued impulsively, ‘that knot of velvet? Tell me what it - means, I implore you!’ - </p> - <p> - She seemed alarmed by my violence, retreating a step or two, and looking - at me haughtily, yet with a kind of shame-facedness. ‘Believe me, it means - nothing,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I beg you to understand that, sir. It was a - foolish jest.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A jest?’ I said. ‘It fell from this window.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It was a jest, sir,’ she answered stubbornly. But I could see that, with - all her pride, she was alarmed; her face was troubled, and there were - tears in her eyes. And this rendered me under the circumstances only the - more persistent. - </p> - <p> - ‘I have the velvet here, madame,’ I said. ‘You must tell me more about - it.’ - </p> - <p> - She looked at me with a weightier impulse of anger than she had yet - exhibited. ‘I do not think you know to whom you are speaking,’ she said, - breathing fast. ‘Leave the room, sir, and at once! I have told you it was - a jest. If you are a gentleman you will believe me, and go.’ And she - pointed to the door. - </p> - <p> - But I held my ground, with an obstinate determination to pierce the - mystery. ‘I am a gentleman, madame,’ I said, ‘and yet I must know more. - Until I know more I cannot go.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Oh, this is insufferable!’ she cried, looking round as if for a way of - escape; but I was between her and the only door. ‘This is unbearable! The - knot was never intended for you, sir. And what is more, if M. de Bruhl - comes and finds you here, you will repent it bitterly.’ - </p> - <p> - I saw that she was at least as much concerned on her own account as on - mine, and thought myself justified under the circumstances in taking - advantage of her fears. I deliberately laid my cap on the table which - stood beside me. ‘I will go madame,’ I said, looking at her fixedly, ‘when - I know all that you know about this knot I hold, and not before. If you - are unwilling to tell me, I must wait for M. de Bruhl, and ask him.’ - </p> - <p> - She cried out ‘Insolent!’ and looked at me as if in her rage and dismay - she would gladly have killed me; being, I could see, a passionate woman. - But I held my ground, and after a moment she spoke. ‘What do you want to - know?’ she said, frowning darkly. - </p> - <p> - ‘This knot—how did it come to lie in the street below your window? I - want to know that first.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I dropped it,’ she answered sullenly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Why?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Because—’ And then she stopped and looked at me, and then again - looked down, her face crimson. ‘Because, if you must know,’ she continued - hurriedly, tracing a pattern on the table with her finger, ‘I saw it bore - the words “A MOI.” I have been married only two months, and I thought my - husband might find it—and bring it to me. It was a silly fancy.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But where did you get it?’ I asked, and I stared at her in growing wonder - and perplexity. For the more questions I put, the further, it seemed to - me, I strayed from my object. - </p> - <p> - ‘I picked it up in the Ruelle d’Arcy,’ she answered, tapping her foot on - the floor resentfully. ‘It was the silly thing put it into my head to—to - do what I did. And now, have you any more questions, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘One only,’ I said, seeing it all clearly enough. ‘Will you tell me, - please, exactly where you found it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I have told you. In the Ruelle d’Arcy, ten paces from the Rue de Valois. - Now, sir, will you go?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘One word, madame. Did—’ - </p> - <p> - But she cried, ‘Go, sir, go! go!’ so violently, that after making one more - attempt to express my thanks, I thought it better to obey her. I had - learned all she knew; I had solved the puzzle. But, solving it, I found - myself no nearer to the end I had in view, no nearer to mademoiselle. I - closed the door with a silent bow, and began to descend the stairs, my - mind full of anxious doubts and calculations. The velvet knot was the only - clue I possessed, but was I right; in placing any dependence on it? I knew - now that, wherever it had originally lain, it had been removed once. If - once, why not twice? why not three times? - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX. THE HOUSE IN THE RUELLE D’ARCY. - </h2> - <p> - I had not gone down half a dozen steps before I heard a man enter the - staircase from the street, and begin to ascend. It struck me at once that - this might be M. de Bruhl; and I realised that I had not left madame’s - apartment a moment too soon. The last thing I desired, having so much on - my hands, was to embroil myself with a stranger, and accordingly I - quickened my pace, hoping to meet him so near the foot of the stairs as to - leave him in doubt whether I had been visiting the upper or lower part of - the house. The staircase was dark, however, and being familiar with it, he - had the advantage over me. He came leaping up two steps at a time, and - turning the angle abruptly, surprised me before I was clear of the upper - flight. - </p> - <p> - On seeing me, he stopped short and stared; thinking at first, I fancy, - that he ought to recognise me. When he did not, he stood back a pace. - ‘Umph!’ he said. ‘Have you been—have you any message for me, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No,’ I said, ‘I have not.’ - </p> - <p> - He frowned. ‘I am M. de Bruhl,’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Indeed?’ I muttered, not knowing what else to say. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have been—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Up your stairs, sir? Yes. In error,’ I answered bluntly. - </p> - <p> - He gave a kind of grunt at that, and stood aside, incredulous and - dissatisfied, yet uncertain how to proceed. I met his black looks with a - steady countenance, and passed by him, becoming aware, however, as I went - on down the stairs that he had turned and was looking after me. He was a - tall, handsome man, dark, and somewhat ruddy of complexion, and was - dressed in the extreme of Court fashion, in a suit of myrtle-green trimmed - with sable. He carried also a cloak lined with the same on his arm. Beyond - looking back when I reached the street, to see that he did not follow me, - I thought no more of him. But we were to meet again, and often. Nay, had I - then known all that was to be known I would have gone back and—But - of that in another place. - </p> - <p> - The Rue de Valois, to which a tradesman, who was peering cautiously out of - his shop, directed me, proved to be one of the main streets of the city, - narrow and dirty, and darkened by overhanging eaves and signboards, but - full of noise and bustle. One end of it opened on the PARVIS of the - Cathedral; the other and quieter end appeared to abut on the west gate of - the town. Feeling the importance of avoiding notice in the neighbourhood - of the house I sought, I strolled into the open space in front of the - Cathedral, and accosting two men who stood talking there, learned that the - Ruelle d’Arcy was the third lane on the right of the Rue de Valois, and - some little distance along it. Armed with this information I left them, - and with my head bent down, and my cloak drawn about the lower part of my - face, as if I felt the east wind, I proceeded down the street until I - reached the opening of the lane. Without looking up I turned briskly into - it. - </p> - <p> - When I had gone ten paces past the turning, however, I stopped and, gazing - about me, began to take in my surroundings as fast as I could. The lane, - which seemed little frequented, was eight or nine feet wide, unpaved, and - full of ruts. The high blank wall of a garden rose on one side of it, on - the other the still higher wall of a house; and both were completely - devoid of windows, a feature which I recognised with the utmost dismay. - For it completely upset all my calculations. In vain I measured with my - eye the ten paces I had come; in vain I looked up, looked this way and - that. I was nonplussed. No window opened on the lane at that point, nor, - indeed, throughout its length. For it was bounded to the end, as far as I - could see, by dead-walls as of gardens. - </p> - <p> - Recognising, with a sinking heart, what this meant, I saw in a moment that - all the hopes I had raised on Simon Fleix’s discovery were baseless. - Mademoiselle had dropped the velvet bow, no doubt, but not from a window. - It was still a clue, but one so slight and vague as to be virtually - useless, proving only that she was in trouble and in need of help; perhaps - that she had passed through this lane on her way from one place of - confinement to another. - </p> - <p> - Thoroughly baffled and dispirited, I leant for awhile against the wall, - brooding over the ill-luck which seemed to attend me in this, as in so - many previous adventures. Nor was the low voice of conscience, suggesting - that such failures arose from mismanagement rather than from ill-luck, - slow to make itself heard. I reflected that if I had not allowed myself to - be robbed of the gold token, mademoiselle would have trusted me; that if I - had not brought her to so poor an abode as my mother’s, she would not have - been cajoled into following a stranger; finally, that if I had remained - with her, and sent Simon to attend to the horses in my place, no stranger - would have gained access to her. - </p> - <p> - But it has never been my way to accept defeat at the first offer, and - though I felt these self-reproaches to be well deserved, a moment’s - reflection persuaded me that in the singular and especial providence which - had brought the velvet knot safe to my hands I ought to find - encouragement. Had Madame de Bruhl not picked it up it would have - continued to lie in this by-path, through which neither I nor Simon Fleix - would have been likely to pass. Again, had madame not dropped it in her - turn, we should have sought in vain for any, even the slightest, clue to - Mademoiselle de la Vire’s fate or position. - </p> - <p> - Cheered afresh by this thought, I determined to walk to the end of the - lane; and forthwith did so, looking sharply about me as I went, but - meeting no one. The bare upper branches of a tree rose here and there - above the walls, which were pierced at intervals by low, strong doors. - These doors I carefully examined, but without making any discovery; all - were securely fastened, and many seemed to have been rarely opened. - Emerging at last and without result on the inner side of the city - ramparts, I turned, and moodily retraced my steps through the lane, - proceeding more slowly as I drew near to the Rue de Valois. This time, - being a little farther from the street, I made a discovery. - </p> - <p> - The corner house, which had its front on the Rue Valois, presented, as I - have said, a dead, windowless wall to the lane; but from my present - standpoint I could see the upper part of the back of this house—that - part of the back, I mean, which rose above the lower garden-wall that - abutted on it—and in this there were several windows. The whole of - two and a part of a third were within the range of my eyes; and suddenly - in one of these I discovered something which made my heart beat high with - hope and expectation. The window in question was heavily grated; that - which I saw was tied to one of the bars. It was a small knot of some white - stuff—linen apparently—and it seemed a trifle to the eye; but - it was looped, as far as I could see from a distance, after the same - fashion as the scrap of velvet I had in my pouch. - </p> - <p> - The conclusion was obvious, at the same time that it inspired me with the - liveliest admiration of mademoiselle’s wit and resources. She was confined - in that room; the odds were that she was behind those bars. A bow dropped - thence would fall, the wind being favourable, into the lane, not ten, but - twenty paces from the street. I ought to have been prepared for a slight - inaccuracy in a woman’s estimate of distance. - </p> - <p> - It may be imagined with what eagerness I now scanned the house, with what - minuteness I sought for a weak place. The longer I looked, however, the - less comfort I derived from my inspection. I saw before me a gloomy - stronghold of brick, four-square, and built in the old Italian manner, - with battlements at the top, and a small machicolation, little more than a - string-course, above each story; this serving at once to lessen the - monotony of the dead-walls, and to add to the frowning weight of the upper - part. The windows were few and small, and the house looked damp and - mouldy; lichens clotted the bricks, and moss filled the string-courses. A - low door opening from the lane into the garden naturally attracted my - attention; but it proved to be of abnormal strength, and bolted both at - the top and bottom. - </p> - <p> - Assured that nothing could be done on that side, and being unwilling to - remain longer in the neighbourhood, lest I should attract attention, I - returned to the street, and twice walked past the front of the house, - seeing all I could with as little appearance of seeing anything as I could - compass. The front retreated somewhat from the line of the street, and was - flanked on the farther side by stables. Only one chimney smoked, and that - sparely. Three steps led up to imposing double doors, which stood half - open, and afforded a glimpse of a spacious hall and a state staircase. Two - men, apparently servants, lounged on the steps, eating chestnuts, and - jesting with one another; and above the door were three shields blazoned - in colours. I saw with satisfaction, as I passed the second time, that the - middle coat was that of Turenne impaling one which I could not read—which - thoroughly satisfied me that the bow of velvet had not lied; so that, - without more ado, I turned homewards, formulating my plans as I went. - </p> - <p> - I found all as I had left it; and my mother still lying in a - half-conscious state, I was spared the pain of making excuses for past - absence, or explaining that which I designed. I communicated the plan I - had formed to Simon Fleix, who saw no difficulty in procuring a - respectable person to stay with Madame de Bonne. But for some time he - would come no farther into the business. He listened, his mouth open and - his eyes glittering, to my plan until I came to his share in it; and then - he fell into a violent fit of trembling. - </p> - <p> - ‘You want me to fight, monsieur,’ he cried reproachfully, shaking all over - like one in the palsy. ‘You said so the other night. You want to get me - killed! That’s it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nonsense!’ I answered sharply. ‘I want you to hold the horses!’ - </p> - <p> - He looked at me wildly, with a kind of resentment in his face, and yet as - if he were fascinated. - </p> - <p> - ‘You will drag me into it!’ he persisted. ‘You will!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I won’t,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘You will! You will! And the end I know. I shall have no chance. I am a - clerk, and not bred to fighting. You want to be the death of me!’ he cried - excitedly. - </p> - <p> - ‘I don’t want you to fight,’ I answered with some contempt. ‘I would - rather that you kept out of it for my mother’s sake. I only want you to - stay in the lane and hold the horses. You will run little more risk than - you do sitting by the hearth here.’ - </p> - <p> - And in the end I persuaded him to do what I wished; though still, whenever - he thought of what was in front of him, he fell a-trembling again, and - many times during the afternoon got up and walked to and fro between the - window and the hearth, his face working and his hands clenched like those - of a man in a fever. I put this down at first to sheer - chicken-heartedness, and thought it augured ill for my enterprise; but - presently remarking that he made no attempt to draw back, and that though - the sweat stood on his brow he set about such preparations as were - necessary—remembering also how long and kindly, and without pay or - guerdon, he had served my mother, I began to see that here was something - phenomenal; a man strange and beyond the ordinary, of whom it was - impossible to predicate what he would do when he came to be tried. - </p> - <p> - For myself, I passed the afternoon in a state almost of apathy. I thought - it my duty to make this attempt to free mademoiselle, and to make it at - once, since it was impossible to say what harm might come of delay, were - she in such hands as Fresnoy’s; but I had so little hope of success that I - regarded the enterprise as desperate. The certain loss of my mother, - however, and the low ebb of my fortunes, with the ever-present sense of - failure, contributed to render me indifferent to risks; and even when we - were on our way, through by-streets known to Simon, to the farther end of - the Ruelle d’Arcy, and the red and frosty sunset shone in our faces, and - gilded for a moment the dull eaves and grey towers above us, I felt no - softening. Whatever the end, there was but one in the world whom I should - regret, or who would regret me; and she hung, herself, on the verge of - eternity. - </p> - <p> - So that I was able to give Simon Fleix his last directions with as much - coolness as I ever felt in my life. I stationed him with the three horses - in the lane—which seemed as quiet and little frequented as in the - morning—near the end of it, and about a hundred paces or more from - the house. - </p> - <p> - ‘Turn their heads towards the ramparts,’ I said, wheeling them round - myself, ‘and then they will be ready to start. They are all quiet enough. - You can let the Cid loose. And now listen to me, Simon,’ I continued. - ‘Wait here until you see me return, or until you see you are going to be - attacked. In the first case, stay for me, of course; in the second, save - yourself as you please. Lastly, if neither event occurs before half-past - five—you will hear the convent-bell yonder ring at the half-hour—begone, - and take the horses; they are yours, And one word more,’ I added - hurriedly. ‘If you can only get away with one horse, Simon, take the Cid. - It is worth more than most men, and will not fail you at a pinch.’ - </p> - <p> - As I turned away, I gave him one look to see if he understood. It was not - without hesitation that after that look I left him. The lad’s face was - flushed, he was breathing hard, his eyes seemed to be almost starting from - his head. He sat his horse shaking in every limb, and had all the air of a - man in a fit. I expected him to call me back; but he did not, and - reflecting that I must trust him, or give up the attempt, I went up the - lane with my sword under my arm, and my cloak loose on my shoulders. I met - a man driving a donkey laden with faggots. I saw no one else. It was - already dusk between the walls, though light enough in the open country; - but that was in my favour, my only regret; being that as the town gates - closed shortly after half-past five, I could not defer my attempt until a - still later hour. - </p> - <p> - Pausing in the shadow of the house while a man might count ten, I - impressed on my memory the position of the particular window which bore - the knot; then I passed quickly into the street, which was still full of - movement, and for a second, feeling myself safe from observation in the - crowd, I stood looking at the front of the house. The door was shut. My - heart sank when I saw this, for I had looked to find it still open. - </p> - <p> - The feeling, however, that I could not wait, though time might present - more than one opportunity, spurred me on. What I could do I must do now, - at once. The sense that this was so being heavy upon me, I saw nothing for - it but to use the knocker and gain admission, by fraud if I could, and if - not, by force. Accordingly I stepped briskly across the kennel, and made - for the entrance. - </p> - <p> - When I was within two paces of the steps, however, someone abruptly threw - the door open and stepped out. The man did not notice me, and I stood - quickly aside, hoping that at the last minute my chance had come. Two men, - who had apparently attended this first person downstairs, stood - respectfully behind him, holding lights. He paused a moment on the steps - to adjust his cloak, and with more than a little surprise I recognised my - acquaintance of the morning, M. de Bruhl. - </p> - <p> - I had scarcely time to identify him before he walked down the steps - swinging his cane, brushed carelessly past me, and was gone. The two men - looked after him awhile, shading their lights from the wind, and one - saying something, the other laughed coarsely. The next moment they threw - the door to and went, as I saw by the passage of their light, into the - room on the left of the hall. - </p> - <p> - Now was my time. I could have hoped for, prayed for, expected no better - fortune than this. The door had rebounded slightly from the jamb, and - stood open an inch or more. In a second I pushed it from me gently, slid - into the hall, and closed it behind me. - </p> - <p> - The door of the room on the left was wide open, and the light which shone - through the doorway—otherwise the hall was dark—as well as the - voices of the two men I had seen, warned me to be careful. I stood, - scarcely daring to breathe, and looked about me. There was no matting on - the floor, no fire on the hearth. The hall felt cold, damp, and - uninhabited. The state staircase rose in front of me, and presently - bifurcating, formed a gallery round the place. I looked up, and up, and - far above me, in the dim heights of the second floor, I espied a faint - light—perhaps, the reflection of a light. - </p> - <p> - A movement in the room on my left warned me that I had no time to lose, if - I meant to act. At any minute one of the men might come out and discover - me. With the utmost care I started on my journey. I stole across the stone - floor of the hall easily and quietly enough, but I found the real - difficulty begin when I came to the stairs. They were of wood, and creaked - and groaned under me to such an extent that, with each step I trod, I - expected the men to take the alarm. Fortunately all went well until I - passed the first corner—I chose, of course, the left-hand flight—then - a board jumped under my foot with a crack which sounded in the empty hall, - and to my excited ears, as loud as a pistol-shot. I was in two minds - whether I should not on the instant make a rush for it, but happily I - stood still. One of the men came out and listened, and I heard the other - ask, with an oath, what it was. I leant against the wall, holding my - breath. - </p> - <p> - ‘Only that wench in one of her tantrums!’ the man who had come out - answered, applying an epithet to her which I will not set down, but which - I carried to his account in the event of our coming face to face - presently. ‘She is quiet now. She may hammer and hammer, but—’ - </p> - <p> - The rest I lost, as he passed through the doorway and went back to his - place by the fire. But in one way his words were of advantage to me. I - concluded that I need not be so very cautious now, seeing that they would - set down anything they heard to the same cause; and I sped on more - quickly, I had just gained the second floor landing when a loud noise - below—the opening of the street door and the heavy tread of feet in - the hall—brought me to a temporary standstill. I looked cautiously - over the balustrade, and saw two men go across to the room on the left. - One of them spoke as he entered, chiding the other knaves, I fancied, for - leaving the door unbarred; and the tone, though not the words, echoing - sullenly up the staircase, struck a familiar chord in my memory. The voice - was Fresnoy’s! - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X. THE FIGHT ON THE STAIRS. - </h2> - <p> - The certainty, which this sound gave me, that I was in the right house, - and that it held also the villain to whom I owed all my misfortunes—for - who but Fresnoy could have furnished the broken coin which had deceived - mademoiselle?—had a singularly inspiriting effect upon me. I felt - every muscle in my body grow on the instant; hard as steel, my eyes more - keen, my ears sharper—all my senses more apt and vigorous. I stole - off like a cat from the balustrade, over which I had been looking, and - without a second’s delay began the search for mademoiselle’s room; - reflecting that though the garrison now amounted to four, I had no need to - despair. If I could release the prisoners without noise—which would - be easy were the key in the lock—we might hope to pass through the - hall by a tour de force of one kind or another. And a church-clock at this - moment striking Five, and reminding me that we had only half an hour in - which to do all and reach the horses, I was the more inclined to risk - something. - </p> - <p> - The light which I had seen from below hung in a flat-bottomed lantern just - beyond the head of the stairs, and outside the entrance to one of two - passages which appeared to lead to the back part of the house. Suspecting - that M. de Bruhl’s business had lain with mademoiselle, I guessed that the - light had been placed for his convenience. With this clue and the position - of the window to guide me, I fixed on a door on the right of this passage, - and scarcely four paces from the head of the stairs. Before I made any - sign, however, I knelt down and ascertained that there was a light in the - room, and also that the key was not in the lock. - </p> - <p> - So far satisfied, I scratched on the door with my finger-nails, at first - softly, then with greater force, and presently I heard someone in the room - rise. I felt sure that the person whoever it was had taken the alarm and - was listening, and putting my lips to the keyhole I whispered - mademoiselle’s name. - </p> - <p> - A footstep crossed the room sharply, and I heard muttering just within the - door. I thought I detected two voices. But I was impatient, and, getting - no answer, whispered in the same manner as before, ‘Mademoiselle de la - Vire, are you there?’ - </p> - <p> - Still no answer. The muttering, too, had stopped, and all was still—in - the room, and in the silent house. I tried again. ‘It is I, Gaston de - Marsac,’ I said. ‘Do you hear? I am come to release you.’ I spoke as - loudly as I dared, but most of the sound seemed to come back on me and - wander in suspicious murmurings down the staircase. - </p> - <p> - This time, however, an exclamation of surprise rewarded me, and a voice, - which I recognised at once as mademoiselle’s, answered softly: - </p> - <p> - ‘What is it? Who is there?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Gaston de Marsac,’ I answered. ‘Do you need my help?’ - </p> - <p> - The very brevity of her reply; the joyful sob which accompanied it, and - which I detected even through the door; the wild cry of thankfulness—almost - an oath—of her companion—all these assured me at once that I - was welcome—welcome as I had never been before—and, so - assuring me, braced me to the height of any occasion which might befall. - </p> - <p> - ‘Can you open the door? I muttered. All the time I was on my knees, my - attention divided between the inside of the room and the stray sounds - which now and then came up to me from the hall below. ‘Have you the key?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No; we are locked in,’ mademoiselle answered. - </p> - <p> - I expected this. ‘If the door is bolted inside,’ I whispered, ‘unfasten - it, if you please!’ - </p> - <p> - They answered that it was not, so bidding them stand back a little from - it, I rose and set my shoulder against it. I hoped to be able to burst it - in with only one crash, which by itself, a single sound, might not alarm - the men downstairs. But my weight made no impression upon the lock, and - the opposite wall being too far distant to allow me to get any purchase - for my feet, I presently desisted. The closeness of the door to the jambs - warned me that an attempt to prise it open would be equally futile; and - for a moment I stood gazing in perplexity at the solid planks, which bid - fair to baffle me to the end. - </p> - <p> - The position was, indeed, one of great difficulty, nor can I now think of - any way out of it better or other than that which I adopted. Against the - wall near the head of the stairs I had noticed, as I came up, a stout - wooden stool. I stole out and fetched this, and setting it against the - opposite wall, endeavoured in this way to get sufficient purchase for my - feet. The lock still held; but, as I threw my whole weight on the door, - the panel against which I leaned gave way and broke inwards with a loud, - crashing sound, which echoed through the empty house, and might almost - have been beard in the street outside. - </p> - <p> - It reached the ears, at any rate, of the men sitting below, and I heard - them troop noisily out and stand in the hall, now talking loudly, and now - listening. A minute of breathless suspense followed—it seemed a long - minute; and then, to my relief, they tramped back again, and I was free to - return to my task. Another thrust, directed a little lower, would, I - hoped, do the business; but to make this the more certain I knelt down and - secured the stool firmly against the wall. As I rose after settling it, - something else, without sound or warning, rose also, taking me completely - by surprise—a man’s head above the top stair, which, as it happened, - faced me. His eyes met mine, and I knew I was discovered. - </p> - <p> - He turned and bundled downstairs again with a scared face, going so - quickly that I could not have caught him if I would, or had had the wit to - try. Of silence there was so longer need. In a few seconds the alarm would - be raised. I had small time for thought. Laying myself bodily against the - door, I heaved and pressed with all my strength; but whether I was - careless in my haste, or the cause was other, the lock did not give. - Instead the stool slipped, and I fell with a crash on the floor at the - very moment the alarm reached the men below. - </p> - <p> - I remember that the crash of my unlucky fall seemed to release all the - prisoned noises of the house. A faint scream within the room was but a - prelude, lost the next moment in the roar of dismay, the clatter of - weapons, and volley of oaths and cries and curses which, rolling up from - below, echoed hollowly about me, as the startled knaves rushed to their - weapons, and charged across the flags and up the staircase. I had space - for one desperate effort. Picking myself up, I seized the stool by two of - its legs and dashed it twice against the door, driving in the panel I had - before splintered. But that was all. The lock held, and I had no time for - a third blow. The men were already halfway up the stairs. In a breath - almost they would be upon me. I flung down the useless stool and snatched - up my sword, which lay unsheathed beside me. So far the matter had gone - against us, but it was time for a change of weapons now, and the end was - not yet. I sprang to the head of the stairs and stood there, my arm by my - side and my point resting on the floor, in such an attitude of - preparedness as I could compass at the moment. - </p> - <p> - For I had not been in the house all this time, as may well be supposed, - without deciding what I would do in case of surprise, and exactly where I - could best stand on the defensive. The flat bottom of the lamp which hung - outside the passage threw a deep shadow on the spot immediately below it, - while the light fell brightly on the steps beyond. Standing in the shadow - I could reach the edge of the stairs with my point, and swing the blade - freely, without fear of the balustrade; and here I posted myself with a - certain grim satisfaction as Fresnoy, with his three comrades behind him, - came bounding up the last flight. - </p> - <p> - They were four to one, but I laughed to see how, not abruptly, but - shamefacedly and by degrees, they came to a stand halfway up the flight, - and looked at me, measuring the steps and the advantage which the light - shining in their eyes gave me. Fresnoy’s ugly face was rendered uglier by - a great strip of plaister which marked the place where the hilt of my - sword had struck him in our last encounter at Chize; and this and the - hatred he bore to me gave a peculiar malevolence to his look. The deaf man - Matthew, whose savage stolidity had more than once excited my anger on our - journey, came next to him, the two strangers whom I had seen in the hall - bringing up the rear. Of the four, these last seemed the most anxious to - come to blows, and had Fresnoy not barred the way with his hand we should - have crossed swords without parley. - </p> - <p> - ‘Halt, will you!’ he cried, with an oath, thrusting one of them back. And - then to me he said, ‘So, so, my friend! It is you, is it?’ - </p> - <p> - I looked at him in silence, with a scorn which knew no bounds, and did not - so much as honour him by raising my sword, though I watched him heedfully. - </p> - <p> - ‘What are you doing here? he continued, with an attempt at bluster. - </p> - <p> - Still I would not answer him, or move, but stood looking down at him. - After a moment of this, he grew restive, his temper being churlish and - impatient at the best. Besides, I think he retained just so much of a - gentleman’s feelings as enabled him to understand my contempt and smart - under it. He moved a step upward, his brow dark with passion. - </p> - <p> - ‘You beggarly son of a scarecrow!’ he broke out on a sudden, adding a - string of foul imprecations, ‘will you speak, or are you going to wait to - be spitted where you stand? If we once begin, my bantam, we shall not stop - until we have done your business! If you have anything to say, say it, and—’ - But I omit the rest of his speech, which was foul beyond the ordinary. - </p> - <p> - Still I did not move or speak, but looked at him unwavering, though it - pained me to think the women heard. He made a last attempt.’ Come, old - friend,’ he said, swallowing his anger again, or pretending to do so, and - speaking with a vile bonhomie which I knew to be treacherous, ‘if we come - to blows we shall give you no quarter. But one chance you shall have, for - the sake of old days when we followed Conde. Go! Take the chance, and go. - We will let you pass, and that broken door shall be the worst of it. That - is more,’ he added with a curse, ‘than I would do for any other man in - your place, M. de Marsac.’ - </p> - <p> - A sudden movement and a low exclamation in the room behind me showed that - his words were heard there; and these sounds being followed immediately by - a noise as of riving wood, mingled with the quick breathing of someone - hard at work, I judged that the women were striving with the door—enlarging - the opening it might be. I dared not look round, however, to see what - progress they made, nor did I answer Fresnoy, save by the same silent - contempt, but stood watching the men before me with the eye of a fencer - about to engage. And I know nothing more keen, more vigilant, more - steadfast than that. - </p> - <p> - It was well I did, for without signal or warning the group wavered a - moment, as though retreating, and the next instant precipitated itself - upon me. Fortunately, only two could engage me at once, and Fresnoy, I - noticed, was not of the two who dashed forward up the steps. One of the - strangers forced himself to the front, and, taking the lead, pressed me - briskly, Matthew seconding him in appearance, while really watching for an - opportunity of running in and stabbing me at close quarters, a manoeuvre I - was not slow to detect. - </p> - <p> - That first bout lasted half a minute only. A fierce exultant joy ran - through me as the steel rang and grated, and I found that I had not - mistaken the strength of wrist or position. The men were mine. They - hampered one another on the stairs, and fought in fetters, being unable to - advance or retreat, to lunge with freedom, or give back without fear. I - apprehended greater danger from Matthew than from my actual opponent, and - presently, watching my opportunity, disarmed the latter by a strong - parade, and sweeping Matthew’s sword aside by the same movement, slashed - him across the forehead; then, drawing back a step, gave my first opponent - the point. He fell in a heap on the floor, as good as dead, and Matthew, - dropping his sword, staggered backwards and downwards into Fresnoy’s arms. - </p> - <p> - ‘Bonne Foi! France et Bonne Foi!’ It seemed to me that I bad not spoken, - that I had plied steel in grimmest silence; and yet the cry still rang and - echoed in the roof as I lowered my point, and stood looking grimly down at - them. Fresnoy’s face was disfigured with rage and chagrin. They were now - but two to one, for Matthew, though his wound was slight, was disabled by - the blood which ran down into his eyes and blinded him. ‘France et Bonne - Foi!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Bonne Foi and good sword!’ cried a voice behind me. And looking swiftly - round, I saw mademoiselle’s face thrust through the hole in the door. Her - eyes sparkled with a fierce light, her lips were red beyond the ordinary, - and her hair, loosened and thrown into disorder by her exertions, fell in - thick masses about her white cheeks, and gave her the aspect of a - war-witch, such as they tell of in my country of Brittany. ‘Good sword!’ - she cried again, and clapped her hands. - </p> - <p> - ‘But better board, mademoiselle!’ I answered gaily. Like most of the men - of my province, I am commonly melancholic, but I have the habit of growing - witty at such times as these. ‘Now, M. Fresnoy,’ I continued, ‘I am - waiting your convenience. Must I put on my cloak to keep myself warm?’ - </p> - <p> - He answered by a curse, and stood looking at me irresolutely. ‘If you will - come down,’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Send your man away and I will come,’ I answered briskly. ‘There is space - on the landing, and a moderate light. But I must be quick. Mademoiselle - and I are due elsewhere, and we are late already.’ - </p> - <p> - Still he hesitated. Still he looked at the man lying at his feet—who - had stretched himself out and passed, quietly enough, a minute before—and - stood dubious, the most pitiable picture of cowardice and malice—he - being ordinarily a stout man—I ever saw. I called him poltroon and - white-feather, and was considering whether I had not better go down to - him, seeing that our time must be up, and Simon would be quitting his - post, when a cry behind me caused me to turn, and I saw that mademoiselle - was no longer looking through the opening in the door. - </p> - <p> - Alarmed on her behalf, as I reflected that there might be other doors to - the room, and the men have other accomplices in the house, I sprang to the - door to see, but had basely time to send a single glance round-the - interior—which showed me only that the room was still occupied—before - Fresnoy, taking advantage of my movement and of my back being turned, - dashed up the stairs, with his comrade at his heels, and succeeded in - pinning me into the narrow passage where I stood. - </p> - <p> - I had scarcely time, indeed, to turn and put myself on guard before he - thrust at me. Nor was that all. The superiority in position no longer lay - with me. I found myself fighting between walls close to the opening in the - door, through which the light fell athwart my eyes, baffling and - perplexing me. Fresnoy was not slow to see the aid this gave him, and - pressed me hard and desperately; so that we played for a full minute at - close quarters, thrusting and parrying, neither of us having room to use - the edge, or time to utter word or prayer. - </p> - <p> - At this game we were so evenly matched that for a time the end was hard to - tell. Presently, however, there came a change. My opponent’s habit of wild - living suited ill with a prolonged bout, and as his strength and breath - failed and he began to give ground I discerned I had only to wear him out - to have him at my mercy. He felt this himself, and even by that light I - saw the sweat spring in great drops to his forehead, saw the terror grow - in his eyes. Already I was counting him a dead man and the victory mine, - when something hashed behind his blade, and his comrade’s poniard, - whizzing past his shoulder, struck me fairly on the chin, staggering me - and hurling me back dizzy and half-stunned, uncertain what had happened to - me. - </p> - <p> - Sped an inch lower it, would have done its work and finished mine. Even as - it was, my hand going up as I reeled back gave Fresnoy an opening, of - which he was not slow to avail himself. He sprang forward, lunging at me - furiously, and would have run me through there and then, and ended the - matter, bad not his foot, as he advanced, caught in the stool, which still - lay against the wall. He stumbled, his point missed my hip by a hair’s - breadth, and he himself fell all his length on the floor, his rapier - breaking off short at the hilt. - </p> - <p> - His one remaining backer stayed to cast a look at him, and that was all. - The man fled, and I chased him as far as the head of the stairs; where I - left him, assured by the speed and agility he displayed in clearing flight - after flight that I had nothing to fear from him. Fresnoy lay, apparently - stunned, and completely at my mercy. I stood an instant looking down at - him, in two minds whether I should not run him through. But the memory of - old days, when he had played his part in more honourable fashion and shown - a coarse good-fellowship in the field, held my hand; and flinging a curse - at him, I turned in anxious haste to the door, the centre of all this - bloodshed and commotion. The light still shone through the breach in the - panel, but for some minutes—since Fresnoy’s rush up the stairs, - indeed—I had heard no sound from this quarter. Now, looking in with - apprehensions which grew with the continuing silence, I learned the - reason. The room was empty! - </p> - <p> - Such a disappointment in the moment of triumph was hard to bear. I saw - myself, after all done and won, on the point of being again outwitted, - distanced, it might be fooled. In frantic haste and excitement I snatched - up the stool beside me, and, dashing it twice against the lock, forced it - at last to yield. The door swung open, and I rushed into the room, which, - abandoned by those who had so lately occupied it, presented nothing to - detain me. I cast a single glance round, saw that it was squalid, - low-roofed, unfurnished, a mere prison; then swiftly crossing the floor, I - made for a door at the farther end, which my eye had marked from the - first. A candle stood flaring and guttering on a stool, and as I passed I - took it up. - </p> - <p> - Somewhat to my surprise the door yielded to my touch. In trembling haste—for - what might not befall the women while I fumbled with doors or wandered in - passages?—I flung it wide, and passing through it, found myself at - the head of a narrow, mean staircase, leading, doubtless, to the servants’ - offices. At this, and seeing no hindrance before me, I took heart of - grace, reflecting that mademoiselle might have escaped from the house this - way. Though it would now be too late to quit the city, I might still - overtake her, and all end well. Accordingly I hurried down the stairs, - shading my candle as I went from a cold draught of air which met me, and - grew stronger as I descended; until reaching the bottom at last, I came - abruptly upon an open door, and an old, wrinkled, shrivelled woman. - </p> - <p> - The hag screamed at sight of me, and crouched down on the floor; and - doubtless, with my drawn sword, and the blood dripping from my chin and - staining all the front of my doublet, I looked fierce and uncanny enough. - But I felt it was no time for sensibility—I was panting to be away—and - I demanded of her sternly where they were. She seemed to have lost her - voice—through fear, perhaps—and for answer only stared at me - stupidly; but on my handling my weapon with some readiness she so far - recovered her senses as to utter two loud screams, one after the other, - and point to the door beside her. I doubted her; and yet I thought in her - terror she must be telling the truth, the more as I saw no other door. In - any case I must risk it, so, setting the candle down on the step beside - her, I passed out. - </p> - <p> - For a moment the darkness was so intense that I felt my way with my sword - before me, in absolute ignorance where I was or on what my foot might next - rest. I was at the mercy of anyone who chanced to be lying in wait for me; - and I shivered as the cold damp wind struck my cheek and stirred my hair. - But by-and-by, when I had taken two or three steps, my eyes grew - accustomed to the gloom, and I made, out the naked boughs of trees between - myself and the sky, and guessed that I was in a garden. My left hand, - touching a shrub, confirmed me in this belief, and in another moment I - distinguished something like the outline of a path stretching away before - me. Following it rapidly—as rapidly as I dared—I came to a - corner, as it seemed to me, turned it blindly, and stopped short, peeping - into a curtain of solid blackness which barred my path, and overhead - mingled confusedly with the dark shapes of trees. But this, too, after a - brief hesitation, I made out to be a wall. Advancing to it with - outstretched hands, I felt the woodwork of a door, and, groping about, lit - presently on a loop of cord. I pulled at this, the door yielded, and I - went out. - </p> - <p> - I found myself in a narrow, dark lane, and looking up and down discovered, - what I might have guessed before, that it, was the Ruelle d’Arcy. But - mademoiselle? Fanchette? Simon? Where were they? No one was to be seen, - Tormented by doubts, I lifted up my voice and called on them in turn; - first on mademoiselle, then on Simon Fleix. In vain; I got no answer. High - up above me I saw, as I stood back a little, lights moving in the house I - had left; and the suspicion that, after all, the enemy had foiled me grew - upon me. Somehow they had decoyed mademoiselle to another part of the - house, and then the old woman had misled me! - </p> - <p> - I turned fiercely to the door, which I had left ajar, resolved to re-enter - by the way I had come, and have an explanation whether or no. To my - surprise—for I had not moved six paces from the door nor heard the - slightest sound—I found it not; only closed but bolted—bolted - both at top and bottom, as I discovered on trying it. - </p> - <p> - I fell on that to kicking it furiously, desperately; partly in a tempest - of rage and chagrin, partly in the hope that I might frighten the old - woman, if it was she who had closed it, into opening it again. In vain, of - course; and presently I saw this and desisted, and, still in a whirl of - haste and excitement, set off running towards the place where I had left - Simon Fleix and the horses. It was fully six o’clock as I judged; but some - faint hope that I might find him there with mademoiselle and her woman - still lingered in my mind. I reached the end of the lane, I ran to the - very foot; of the ramparts, I looked right and left. In vain. The place - was dark, silent, deserted. - </p> - <p> - I called ‘Simon! Simon! Simon Fleix!’ but my only answer was the soughing - of the wind in the eaves, and the slow tones of the convent-bell striking - Six. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI. THE MAN AT THE DOOR. - </h2> - <p> - There are some things, not shameful in themselves, which it shames one to - remember, and among these I count the succeeding hurry and perturbation of - that night: the vain search, without hope or clue, to which passion - impelled me, and the stubborn persistence with which I rushed frantically - from place to place long after the soberness of reason would have had me - desist. There was not, it seems to me, looking back now, one street or - alley, lane or court, in Blois which I did not visit again and again in my - frantic wanderings; not a beggar skulking on foot that night whom I did - not hunt down and question; not a wretched woman sleeping in arch or - doorway whom I did not see and scrutinise. I returned to my mother’s - lodging again and again, always fruitlessly. I rushed to the stables and - rushed away again, or stood and listened in the dark, empty stalls, - wondering what had happened, and torturing myself with suggestions of this - or that. And everywhere, not only at the North-gate, where I interrogated - the porters and found that no party resembling that which I sought had - passed out, but on the PARVIS of the Cathedral, where a guard was drawn - up, and in the common streets, where I burst in on one group and another - with my queries, I ran the risk of suspicion and arrest, and all that - might follow thereon. - </p> - <p> - It was strange indeed that I escaped arrest. The wound in my chin still - bled at intervals, staining my doublet; and as I was without my cloak, - which I had left in the house in the Rue Valois, I had nothing to cover my - disordered dress. I was keenly, fiercely anxious. Stray passers meeting me - in the glare of a torch, or seeing me hurry by the great braziers which - burned where four streets met, looked askance at me and gave me the wall; - while men in authority cried to me to stay and answer their questions. I - ran from the one and the other with the same savage impatience, - disregarding everything in the feverish anxiety which spurred me on and - impelled me to a hundred imprudences, such as at my age I should have - blushed to commit. Much of this feeling was due, no doubt, to the glimpse - I had had of mademoiselle, and the fiery words she had spoken; more, I - fancy, to chagrin and anger at the manner in which the cup of success had - been dashed at the last moment from my lips. - </p> - <p> - For four hours I wandered through the streets, now hot with purpose, now - seeking aimlessly. It was ten o’clock when at length I gave up the search, - and, worn out both in body and mind, climbed the stairs at my mother’s - lodgings and entered her room. An old woman sat by the fire, crooning - softly to herself, while she stirred something in a black pot. My mother - lay in the same heavy, deep sleep in which I had left her. I sat down - opposite the nurse (who cried out at my appearance) and asked her dully - for some food. When I had eaten it, sitting in a kind of stupor the while, - the result partly of my late exertions, and partly of the silence which - prevailed round me, I bade the woman call me if any change took place; and - then going heavily across to the garret Simon had occupied, I lay down on - his pallet, and fell into a sound, dreamless sleep. - </p> - <p> - The next day and the next night I spent beside my mother, watching the - life ebb fast away, and thinking with grave sorrow of her past and my - future. It pained me beyond measure to see her die thus, in a garret, - without proper attendance or any but bare comforts; the existence which - had once been bright and prosperous ending in penury and gloom, such as my - mother’s love and hope and self-sacrifice little deserved. Her state - grieved me sharply on my own account too, seeing that I had formed none of - those familiar relations which men of my age have commonly formed, and - which console them for the loss of parents and forbears; Nature so - ordering it, as I have taken note, that men look forward rather than - backward, and find in the ties they form with the future full compensation - for the parting strands behind them. I was alone, poverty-stricken, and in - middle life, seeing nothing before me except danger and hardship, and - these unrelieved by hope or affection. This last adventure, too, despite - all my efforts, had sunk me deeper in the mire; by increasing my enemies - and alienating from me some to whom I might have turned at the worst. In - one other respect also it had added to my troubles not a little; for the - image of mademoiselle wandering alone and unguarded through the streets, - or vainly calling on me for help, persisted in thrusting itself on my - imagination when I least wanted it, and came even between my mother’s - patient face and me. - </p> - <p> - I was sitting beside Madame de Bonne a little after sunset on the second - day, the woman who attended her being absent on an errand, when I remarked - that the lamp, which had been recently lit, and stood on a stool in the - middle of the room, was burning low and needed snuffing. I went to it - softly, and while stooping over it, trying to improve the light, heard a - slow, heavy step ascending the stairs. The house was quiet, and the sound - attracted my full attention. I raised myself and stood listening, hoping - that this might be the doctor, who had not been that day. - </p> - <p> - The footsteps passed the landing below, but at the first stair of the next - flight the person, whoever it was, stumbled, and made a considerable - noise. At that, or it might be a moment later, the step still ascending, I - heard a sudden rustling behind me, and, turning quickly with a start, saw - my mother sitting up in bed. Her eyes were open, and she seemed fully - conscious; which she had not been for days, nor indeed since the last - conversation I have recorded. But her face, though it was now sensible, - was pinched and white, and so drawn with mortal fear that I believed her - dying, and sprang to her, unable to construe otherwise the pitiful look in - her straining eyes. - </p> - <p> - ‘Madame,’ I said, hastily passing my arm round her, and speaking with as - much encouragement as I could infuse into my voice, ‘take comfort. I am - here. Your son.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Hush!’ she muttered in answer, laying her feeble hand on my wrist and - continuing to look, not at me, but at the door. ‘Listen, Gaston! Don’t you - hear? There it is again. Again!’ - </p> - <p> - For a moment I thought her mind still wandered, and I shivered, having no - fondness for hearing such things. Then I saw she was listening intently to - the sound which had attracted my notice. The step had reached the landing - by this time. The visitor, whoever it was, paused there a moment, being in - darkness, and uncertain, perhaps, of the position of the door; but in a - little while I heard him move forward again, my mother’s fragile form, - clasped as it was in my embrace, quivering with each step he took, as - though his weight stirred the house. He tapped at the door. - </p> - <p> - I had thought, while I listened and wondered, of more than one whom this - might be: the leech, Simon Fleix, Madame Bruhl, Fresnoy even. But as the - tap came, and I felt my mother tremble in my arms, enlightenment came with - it, and I pondered no more, I knew as well as if she hail spoken and told - me. There could be only one man whose presence had such power to terrify - her, only one whose mere step, sounding through the veil, could drag her - back to consciousness and fear! And that was the man who had beggared her, - who had traded so long on her terrors. - </p> - <p> - I moved a little, intending to cross the floor softly, that when he opened - the door he might find me face to face with him; but she detected the - movement, and, love giving her strength, she clung to my wrist so fiercely - that I had not the heart, knowing how slender was her hold on life and how - near the brink she stood, to break from her. I constrained myself to stand - still, though every muscle grew tense as a drawn bowstring, and I felt the - strong rage rising in my throat and choking me as I waited for him to - enter. - </p> - <p> - A log on the hearth gave way with a dull sound startling in the silence. - The man tapped again, and getting no answer, for neither of us spoke, - pushed the door slowly open, uttering before he showed himself the words, - ‘Dieu vous benisse!’ in a voice so low and smooth I shuddered at the - sound. The next moment he came in and saw me, and, starting, stood at - gaze, his head thrust slightly forward, his shoulders bent, his hand still - on the latch, amazement and frowning spite in turn distorting his lean - face. He had looked to find a weak, defenceless woman, whom he could - torture and rob at his will; he saw instead a strong man armed, whose - righteous anger he must have been blind indeed had he failed to read. - </p> - <p> - Strangest thing of all, we had met before! I knew him at once—he me. - He was the same Jacobin monk whom I had seen at the inn on the Claine, and - who had told me the news of Guise’s death! - </p> - <p> - I uttered an exclamation of surprise on making this discovery, and my - mother, freed suddenly, as it seemed, from the spell of fear, which had - given her unnatural strength, sank back on the bed. Her grasp relaxed, and - her breath came and went with so loud a rattle that I removed my gaze from - him, and bent over her, full of concern and solicitude. Our eyes met. She - tried to speak, and at last gasped, ‘Not now, Gaston! Let him—let - him—’ - </p> - <p> - Her lips framed the word ‘go,’ but she could not give it sound. I - understood, however, and in impotent wrath I waved my hand to him to - begone. When I looked up he had already obeyed me. He had seized the first - opportunity to escape. The door was closed, the lamp burned steadily, and - we were alone. - </p> - <p> - I gave her a little Armagnac, which stood beside the bed for such an - occasion, and she revived, and presently opened her eyes. But I saw at - once a great change in her. The look of fear had passed altogether from - her face, and one of sorrow, yet content, had taken its place. She laid - her hand in mine, and looked up at me, being too weak, as I thought, to - speak. But by-and-by, when the strong spirit had done its work, she signed - to me to lower my head to her mouth. - </p> - <p> - ‘The King of Navarre,’ she murmured-you are sure, Gaston—he will - retain you is your—employments?’ - </p> - <p> - Her pleading eyes were so close to mine, I felt no scruples such as some - might have felt, seeing her so near death; but I answered firmly and - cheerfully, ‘Madame, I am assured of it. There is no prince in Europe so - trustworthy or so good to his servants.’ - </p> - <p> - She sighed with infinite content, and blessed him in a feeble whisper. - ‘And if you live,’ she went on, ‘you will rebuild the old house, Gaston. - The walls are sound yet. And the oak in the hall was not burned. There is - a chest of linen at Gil’s, and a chest with your father’s gold lace—but - that is pledged,’ she added dreamily. ‘I forgot.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Madame,’ I answered solemnly, ‘it shall be done—it shall be done as - you wish, if the power lie with me.’ - </p> - <p> - She lay for some time after that murmuring prayers, her head supported on - my shoulder. I longed impatiently for the nurse to return, that I might - despatch her for the leech; not that I thought anything could be done, but - for my own comfort and greater satisfaction afterwards, and that my mother - might not die without some fitting attendance. The house remained quiet, - however, with that impressive quietness which sobers the heart at such - times, and I could not do this. And about six o’clock my mother opened her - eyes again. - </p> - <p> - ‘This is not Marsac,’ she murmured abruptly, her eyes roving from the - ceiling to the wall at the foot of the bed. - </p> - <p> - No, Madame,’ I answered, leaning over her, ‘you are in Blois. But I am - here—Gaston, your son.’ - </p> - <p> - She looked at me, a faint smile of pleasure stealing over her pinched - face. ‘Twelve thousand livres a year,’ she whispered, rather to herself - than to me, ‘and an establishment, reduced a little, yet creditable, very - creditable.’ For a moment she seemed to be dying in my arms, but again - opened her eyes quickly and looked me in the face. ‘Gaston?’ she said, - suddenly and strangely. ‘Who said Gaston? He is with the King—I have - blessed him; and his days shall be long in the land!’ Then, raising - herself in my arms with a last effort of strength, she cried loudly, ‘Way - there! Way for my son, the Sieur de Marsac!’ - </p> - <p> - They were her last words. When I laid her down on the bed a moment later, - she was dead, and I was alone. - </p> - <p> - Madame de Bonne, my mother, was seventy at the time of her death, having - survived my father eighteen years. She was Marie de Loche de Loheac, third - daughter of Raoul, Sieur de Loheac, on the Vilaine, and by her - great-grandmother, a daughter of Jean de Laval, was descended from the - ducal family of Rohan, a relationship which in after-times, and under - greatly altered circumstances, Henry Duke of Rohan condescended to - acknowledge, honouring me with his friendship on more occasions than one. - Her death, which I have here recorded, took place on the fourth of - January, the Queen-Mother of France, Catherine de Medicis, dying a little - after noon on the following day. - </p> - <p> - In Blois, as in every other town, even Paris itself, the Huguenots - possessed at this time a powerful organisation; and with the aid of the - surgeon, who showed me much respect in my bereavement, and exercised in my - behalf all the influence which skilful and honest; men of his craft - invariably possess, I was able to arrange for my mother’s burial in a - private ground about a league beyond the walls and near the village of - Chaverny. At the time of her death I had only thirty crowns in gold - remaining, Simon Fleix, to whose fate I could obtain no clue, having - carried off thirty-five with the horses. The whole of this residue, - however, with the exception of a handsome gratuity to the nurse and a - trifle spent on my clothes, I expended on the funeral, desiring that no - stain should rest on my mother’s birth or my affection. Accordingly, - though the ceremony was of necessity private, and indeed secret, and the - mourners were few, it lacked nothing, I think, of the decency and - propriety which my mother loved; and which she preferred, I have often - heard her say, to the vulgar show that is equally at the command of the - noble and the farmer of taxes. - </p> - <p> - Until she was laid in her quiet resting-place I stood in constant fear of - some interruption on the part either of Bruhl, whose connection with - Fresnoy and the abduction I did not doubt, or of the Jacobin monk. But - none came; and nothing happening to enlighten me as to the fate of - Mademoiselle de la Vire, I saw my duty clear before me. I disposed of the - furniture of my mother’s room, and indeed of everything which was - saleable, and raised in this way enough money to buy myself a new cloak—without - which I could not travel in the wintry weather—and to hire a horse. - Sorry as the animal was, the dealer required security, and I had none to - offer. It was only at the last moment, I bethought me of the fragment of - gold chain which mademoiselle had left behind her, and which, as well as - my mother’s rings and vinaigrette, I had kept back from the sale. This I - was forced to lodge with him. Having thus, with some pain and more - humiliation, provided means for the journey, I lost not an hour in - beginning it. On the eighth of January I set oat for Rosny, to carry the - news of my ill-success and of mademoiselle’s position whither I had looked - a week before to carry herself. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII. MAXIMILIAN DE BETHUNE, BARON DE ROSNY. - </h2> - <p> - I looked to make the journey to Rosny in two days. But the heaviness of - the roads and the sorry condition of my hackney hindered me so greatly - that I lay the second night at Dreux, and, hearing the way was still worse - between that place and my destination, began to think that I should be - fortunate if I reached Rosny by the following noon. The country in this - part seemed devoted to the League, the feeling increasing in violence as I - approached the Seine. I heard nothing save abuse of the King of France and - praise of the Guise princes, and had much ado, keeping a still tongue and - riding modestly, to pass without molestation or inquiry. - </p> - <p> - Drawing near to Rosny, on the third morning, through a low marshy country - covered with woods and alive with game of all kinds, I began to occupy - myself with thoughts of the reception I was likely to encounter; which, I - conjectured, would be none of the most pleasant. The daring and vigour of - the Baron de Rosny, who had at this time the reputation of being in all - parts of France at once, and the familiar terms on which he was known to - live with the King of Navarre, gave me small reason to hope that he would - listen with indulgence to such a tale as I had to tell. The nearer I came - to the hour of telling it, indeed, the more improbable seemed some of its - parts, and the more glaring my own carelessness in losing the token, and - in letting mademoiselle out of my sight in such a place as Blois. I saw - this so clearly now, and more clearly as the morning advanced, that I do - not know that I ever anticipated anything with more fear than this - explanation; which it yet seemed my duty to offer with all reasonable - speed. The morning was warm, I remember; cloudy, yet not dark; the air - near at hand full of moisture and very clear, with a circle of mist rising - some way off, and filling the woods with blue distances. The road was deep - and foundrous, and as I was obliged to leave it from time to time in order - to pass the worst places, I presently began to fear that I had strayed - into a by-road. After advancing some distance, in doubt whether I should - persevere or turn back, I was glad to see before me a small house placed - at the junction of several woodland paths. From the bush which hung over - the door, and a water-trough which stood beside it, I judged the place to - be an inn; and determining to get my horse fed before I went farther, I - rode up to the door and rapped on it with my riding-switch. - </p> - <p> - The position of the house was so remote that I was surprised to see three - or four heads thrust immediately out of a window. For a moment I thought I - should have done better to have passed by; but the landlord coming out - very civilly, and leading the way to a shed beside the house, I reflected - that I had little to lose, and followed him. I found, as I expected, four - horses tied up in the shed, the bits hanging round their necks and their - girths loosed; while my surprise was not lessened by the arrival, before I - had fastened up my own horse, of a sixth rider, who, seeing us by the - shed, rode up to us, and saluted me as he dismounted. - </p> - <p> - He was a tall, strong man in the prime of youth, wearing a plain, almost - mean suit of dust-coloured leather, and carrying no weapons except a - hunting-knife, which hung in a sheath at his girdle. He rode a powerful - silver-roan horse, and was splashed to the top of his high untanned boots, - as if he had come by the worst of paths, if by any. - </p> - <p> - He cast a shrewd glance at the landlord as he led his horse into the shed; - and I judged from his brown complexion and quick eyes that he had seen - much weather and lived an out-of-door life. - </p> - <p> - He watched me somewhat curiously while I mixed the fodder for my horse; - and when I went into the house and sat down in the first room I came to, - to eat a little bread-and-cheese which I had in my pouch, he joined me - almost immediately. Apparently he could not stomach my poor fare, however, - for after watching me for a time in silence, switching his boot with his - whip the while, he called the landlord, and asked him, in a masterful way, - what fresh meat he had, and particularly if he had any lean collops, or a - fowl. - </p> - <p> - The fellow answered that there was nothing. His honour could have some - Lisieux cheese, he added, or some stewed lentils. - </p> - <p> - ‘His honour does not want cheese,’ the stranger answered peevishly, ‘nor - lentil porridge. And what is this I smell, my friend?’ he continued, - beginning suddenly to sniff with vigour. ‘I swear I smell cooking.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is the hind-quarter of a buck, which is cooking for the four gentlemen - of the Robe; with a collop or two to follow,’ the landlord explained; and - humbly excused himself on the ground that the gentlemen had strictly - engaged it for their own eating. - </p> - <p> - ‘What? A whole quarter! AND a collop or two to follow!’ the stranger - retorted, smacking his lips. ‘Who are they?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Two advocates and their clerks from the Parliament of Paris. They have - been viewing a boundary near here, and are returning this afternoon,’ the - landlord answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘No reason why they should cause a famine!’ ejaculated the stranger with - energy. ‘Go to them and say a gentleman, who has ridden far, and fasted - since seven this morning, requests permission to sit at their table. A - quarter of venison and a collop or two among four!’ he continued, in a - tone of extreme disgust, ‘It is intolerable! And advocates! Why, at that - rate, the King of France should eat a whole buck, and rise hungry! Don’t - you agree with me, sir?’ he continued, turning on me and putting the - question abruptly. - </p> - <p> - He was so comically and yet so seriously angry, and looked so closely at - me as he spoke, that I hastened to say I agreed with him perfectly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yet you eat cheese, sir!’ he retorted irritably. - </p> - <p> - I saw that, not withstanding the simplicity of his dress, he was a - gentleman, and so, forbearing to take offence, I told him plainly that my - purse being light I travelled rather as I could than as I would. - </p> - <p> - ‘Is it so?’ he answered hastily. ‘Had I known that, I would have joined - you in the cheese! After all, I would rather fast with a gentleman, than - feast with a churl. But it is too late now. Seeing you mix the fodder, I - thought your pockets were full.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The nag is tired, and has done its best,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - He looked at me curiously, and as though he would say more. But the - landlord returning at that moment, he turned to him instead. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well!’ he said briskly. ‘Is it all right?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am sorry, your honour,’ the man answered, reluctantly, and with a very - downcast air, ‘but the gentlemen beg to be excused.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Zounds!’ cried my companion roundly. ‘They do, do they?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘They say they have no more, sir,’ the landlord continued, faltering, - ‘than enough for themselves and a little dog they have with them.’ - </p> - <p> - A shout of laughter which issued at that moment from the other room seemed - to show that the quartette were making merry over my companion’s request. - I saw his cheek redden, and looked for an explosion of anger on his part; - but instead he stood a moment in thought in the middle of the floor, and - then, much to the innkeeper’s relief, pushed a stool towards me, and - called for a bottle of the best wine. He pleasantly begged leave to eat a - little of my cheese, which he said looked better than the Lisieux, and, - filling my glass with wine, fell to as merrily as if he had never heard of - the party in the other room. - </p> - <p> - I was more than a little surprised, I remember; for I had taken him to be - a passionate man, and not one to sit down under an affront. Still I said - nothing, and we conversed very well together. I noticed, however, that he - stopped speaking more than once, as though to listen; but conceiving that - he was merely reverting to the party in the other room, who grew each - moment more uproarious, I said nothing, and was completely taken by - surprise when he rose on a sudden, and, going to the open window, leaned - out, shading his eyes with his hand. - </p> - <p> - ‘What is it?’ I said, preparing to follow him. - </p> - <p> - He answered by a quiet chuckle. ‘You shall see,’ he added the next - instant. - </p> - <p> - I rose, and going to the window looked out over his shoulder. Three men - were approaching the inn on horseback. The first, a great burly, - dark-complexioned man with fierce black eyes and a feathered cap, had - pistols in his holsters and a short sword by his side. The other two, with - the air of servants, were stout fellows, wearing green doublets and - leather breeches. All three rode good horses, while a footman led two - hounds after them in a leash. On seeing us they cantered forward, the - leader waving his bonnet. - </p> - <p> - ‘Halt, there!’ cried my companion, lifting up his voice when they were - within a stone’s throw of us. ‘Maignan!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘My lord?’ answered he of the feather, pulling up on the instant. - </p> - <p> - ‘You will find six horses in the shed there,’ the stranger cried in a - voice of command. ‘Turn out the four to the left as you go in. Give each a - cut, and send it about its business!’ - </p> - <p> - The man wheeled his horse before the words were well uttered, and crying - obsequiously ‘that it was done,’ flung his reins to one of the other - riders and disappeared in the shed, as if the order given him were the - most commonplace one in the world. - </p> - <p> - The party in the other room, however, by whom all could be heard, were not - slow to take the alarm. They broke into a shout of remonstrance, and one - of their number, leaping from the window, asked with a very fierce air - what the devil we meant. The others thrust out their faces, swollen and - flushed with the wine they had drunk, and with many oaths backed up his - question. Not feeling myself called upon to interfere, I prepared to see - something diverting. - </p> - <p> - My companion, whose coolness surprised me, had all the air of being as - little concerned as myself. He even persisted for a time in ignoring the - angry lawyer, and, turning a deaf ear to all the threats and abuse with - which the others assailed him, continued to look calmly at the prospect. - Seeing this, and that nothing could move him, the man who had jumped - through the window, and who seemed the most enterprising of the party, - left us at last and ran towards the stalls. The aspect of the two - serving-men, however, who rode up grinning, and made as if they would ride - him down, determined him to return; which he did, pale with fury, as the - last of the four horses clattered out, and after a puzzled look round - trotted off at its leisure into the forest. - </p> - <p> - On this, the man grew more violent, as I have remarked frightened men do; - so that at last the stranger condescended to notice him. - </p> - <p> - ‘My good sir,’ he said coolly, looking at him through the window as if he - had not seen him before, ‘you annoy me. What is the matter?’ - </p> - <p> - The fellow retorted with a vast amount of bluster, asking what the devil - we meant by turning out his horses. - </p> - <p> - ‘Only to give you and the gentlemen with you a little exercise,’ my - companion answered, with grim humour, and in a severe tone strange in one - so young—‘than which nothing is more wholesome after a full meal. - That, and a lesson in good manners. Maignan,’ he continued, raising his - voice, ‘if this person has anything more to say, answer him. He is nearer - your degree than mine.’ - </p> - <p> - And leaving the man to slink away like a whipped dog—for the mean - are ever the first to cringe—my friend turned from the window. - Meeting my eyes as he went back to his seat, he laughed. ‘Well,’ he said, - ‘what do you think?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That the ass in the lion’s skin is very well till it meets the lion,’ I - answered. - </p> - <p> - He laughed again, and seemed pleased, as I doubt not he was. ‘Pooh, pooh!’ - he said. ‘It passed the time, and I think I am quits with my gentlemen - now. But I must be riding. Possibly our roads may lie for a while in the - same direction, sir?’ And he looked at me irresolutely. - </p> - <p> - I answered cautiously that I was going to the town of Rosny. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are not from Paris?’ he continued, still looking at me. - </p> - <p> - ‘No,’ I answered. ‘I am from the south.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘From Blois, perhaps?’ - </p> - <p> - I nodded. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ah!’ he said, making no comment, which somewhat surprised me, all men at - this time desiring news, and looking to Blois for it. ‘I am riding towards - Rosny also. Let us be going.’ - </p> - <p> - But I noticed that as we got to horse, the man he called Maignan holding - his stirrup with much formality, he turned and looked at me more than once - with an expression in his eye which I could not interpret; so that, being - in an enemy’s country, where curiosity was a thing to be deprecated, I - began to feel somewhat uneasy. However, as he presently gave way to a fit - of laughter, and seemed to be digesting his late diversion at the inn, I - thought no more of it, finding him excellent company and a man of - surprising information. - </p> - <p> - Notwithstanding this my spirits began to flag as I approached Rosny; and - as on such occasions nothing is more trying than the well-meant rallying - of a companion ignorant of our trouble, I felt rather relief than regret - when he drew rein at four cross-roads a mile or so short of the town, and, - announcing that here our paths separated, took a civil leave of me, and - went his way with his servants. - </p> - <p> - I dismounted at an inn at the extremity of the town, and, stopping only to - arrange my dress and drink a cup of wine, asked the way to the Chateau, - which was situate, I learned, no more than a third of a mile away. I went - thither on foot by way of an avenue of trees leading up to a drawbridge - and gateway. The former was down, but the gates were closed, and all the - formalities of a fortress in time of war were observed on my admission, - though the garrison appeared to consist only of two or three serving-men - and as many foresters. I had leisure after sending in my name to observe - that the house was old and partly ruinous, but of great strength, covered - in places with ivy, and closely surrounded by woods. A staid-looking page - came presently to me, and led me up a narrow staircase to a parlour - lighted by two windows, looking, one into the courtyard, the other towards - the town. There a tall man was waiting to receive me, who rose on my - entrance and came forward. Judge of my surprise when I recognised my - acquaintance of the afternoon! ‘M. de Rosny?’ I exclaimed, standing still - and looking at him in confusion. - </p> - <p> - ‘The same, sir,’ he answered, with a quiet smile. ‘You come from the King - of Navarre, I believe? and on an errand to me. You may speak openly. The - king has no secrets from me.’ - </p> - <p> - There was something in the gravity of his demeanour as he waited for me to - speak: which strongly impressed me; notwithstanding that he was ten years - younger than myself, and I had seen him so lately in a lighter mood. I - felt that his reputation had not belied him—that here was a great - man; and reflecting with despair on the inadequacy of the tale I had to - tell him, I paused to consider in what terms I should begin. He soon put - an end to this, however. ‘Come, sir,’ he said with impatience. ‘I have - told you that you may speak out. You should have been here four days ago, - as I take it. Now you are here, where is the lady?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle de la Vire?’ I stammered, rather to gain time than with any - other object. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut!’ he rejoined, frowning. ‘Is there any other lady in the - question? Come, sir, speak out. Where have you left her? This is no affair - of gallantry,’ he continued, the harshness of his demeanour disagreeably - surprising me, ‘that you need beat about the bush. The king entrusted to - you a lady, who, I have no hesitation in telling you now, was in - possession of certain State secrets. It is known that she escaped safely - from Chize and arrived safely at Blois. Where is she?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I would to Heaven I knew, sir!’ I exclaimed in despair, feeling the - painfulness of my position increased a hundred fold by his manner. ‘I wish - to God I did.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What is this?’ he cried in a raised voice. ‘You do not know where she is? - You jest, M. de Marsac.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It were a sorry jest,’ I answered, summoning up a rueful smile. And on - that, plunging desperately into the story which I have here set down, I - narrated the difficulties under which I had raised my escort, the manner - in which I came to be robbed of the gold token, how mademoiselle was - trepanned, the lucky chance by which I found her again, and the final - disappointment. He listened, but listened throughout with no word of - sympathy—rather with impatience, which grew at last into derisive - incredulity. When I had done he asked me bluntly what I called myself. - </p> - <p> - Scarcely understanding what he meant, I repeated my name. - </p> - <p> - He answered, rudely and flatly, that it was impossible. I do not believe - it, sir!’ he repeated, his brow dark. ‘You are not the man. You bring - neither the lady nor the token, nor anything else by which I can test your - story. Nay, sir, do not scowl at me,’ he continued sharply. ‘I am the - mouthpiece of the King of Navarre, to whom this matter is of the highest - importance. I cannot believe that the man whom he would choose would act - so. This house you prate of in Blois, for instance, and the room with the - two doors? What were you doing while mademoiselle was being removed?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I was engaged with the men of the house,’ I answered, striving to swallow - the anger which all but choked me. ‘I did what I could. Had the door given - way, all would have been well.’ - </p> - <p> - He looked at me darkly. ‘That is fine talking!’ he said with a sneer. Then - he dropped his eyes and seemed for a time to fall into a brown study, - while I stood before him, confounded by this new view of the case, - furious, yet not knowing how to vent my fury, cut to the heart by his - insults, yet without hope or prospect of redress. - </p> - <p> - ‘Come’ he said harshly, after two or three minutes of gloomy reflection on - his part and burning humiliation on mine, ‘is there anyone here who can - identify you, or in any other way confirm your story, sir? Until I know - how the matter stands I can do nothing.’ - </p> - <p> - I shook my head in sullen shame. I might protest against his brutality and - this judgment of me, but to what purpose while he sheltered himself behind - his master? - </p> - <p> - ‘Stay!’ he said presently, with an abrupt gesture of remembrance. ‘I had - nearly forgotten. I have some here who have been lately at the King of - Navarre’s Court at St. Jean d’Angely. If you still maintain that you are - the M. de Marsac to whom this commission was entrusted, you will doubtless - have no objection to seeing them?’ - </p> - <p> - On this I felt myself placed in a most cruel dilemma if I refused to - submit my case to the proposed ordeal, I stood an impostor confessed. If I - consented to see these strangers, it was probable they would not recognise - me, and possible that they might deny me in terms calculated to make my - position even worse, if that might be. I hesitated but, Rosny standing - inexorable before me awaiting an answer, I finally consented. - </p> - <p> - ‘Good!’ he said curtly. ‘This way, if you please. They are here. The latch - is tricky. Nay, sir, it is my house.’ - </p> - <p> - Obeying the stern motion of his hand, I passed before him into the next - room, feeling myself more humiliated than I can tell by this reference to - strangers. For a moment I could see no one. The day was waning, the room I - entered was long and narrow, and illuminated only by a glowing fire. - Besides I was myself, perhaps, in some embarrassment. I believed that my - conductor had made a mistake, or that his guests had departed, and I - turned towards him to ask for an explanation. He merely pointed onwards, - however, and I advanced; whereupon a young and handsome lady, who had been - seated in the shadow of the great fireplace, rose suddenly, as if - startled, and stood looking at me, the glow of the burning wood falling on - one side of her face and turning her hair to gold. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well!’ M. de Rosny said, in a voice which sounded a little odd in my - ears. ‘You do not know madame, I think?’ - </p> - <p> - I saw that she was a complete stranger to me, and bowed to her without - speaking. The lady saluted me in turn ceremoniously and in silence. - </p> - <p> - ‘Is there no one else here who should know you?’ M. de Rosny continued, in - a tone almost of persiflage, and with the same change in his voice which - had struck me before; but now it was more marked. ‘If not, M. de Marsac, I - am afraid—But first look round, look round, sir; I would not judge - any man hastily.’ - </p> - <p> - He laid his hand on my shoulder as he finished in a manner so familiar and - so utterly at variance with his former bearing that I doubted if I heard - or felt aright. Yet I looked mechanically at the lady, and seeing that her - eyes glistened in the firelight, and that she gazed at me very kindly, I - wondered still more; falling, indeed, into a very confusion of amazement. - This was not lessened but augmented a hundredfold when, turning in - obedience to the pressure of de Rosny’s hand, I saw beside me, as if she - had risen from the floor, another lady—no other than Mademoiselle de - la Vire herself! She had that moment stepped out of the shadow of the - great fireplace, which had hitherto hidden her, and stood before me - curtseying prettily, with the same look on her face and in her eyes which - madame’s wore. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle!’ I muttered, unable to take my eyes from her. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mais oui, monsieur, mademoiselle,’ she answered, curtseying lower, with - the air of a child rather than a woman. - </p> - <p> - ‘Here?’ I stammered, my mouth open, my eyes staring. - </p> - <p> - ‘Here, sir—thanks to the valour of a brave man,’ she answered, - speaking in a voice so low I scarcely heard her. And then, dropping her - eyes, she stepped back into the shadow, as if either she had said too much - already, or doubted her composure were she to say more. She was so - radiantly dressed, she looked in the firelight more like a fairy than a - woman, being of small and delicate proportions; and she seemed in my eyes - so different a person, particularly in respect of the softened expression - of her features, from the Mademoiselle de la Vire whom I had known and - seen plunged in sloughs and bent to the saddle with fatigue, that I - doubted still if I had seen aright, and was as far from enlightenment as - before. - </p> - <p> - It was M. de Rosny himself who relieved me from the embarrassment I was - suffering. He embraced me in the most kind and obliging manner, and this - more than once; begging me to pardon the deception he had practised upon - me, and to which he had been impelled partly by the odd nature of our - introduction at the inn, and partly by his desire to enhance the joyful - surprise he had in store for me. ‘Come,’ he said presently, drawing me to - the window, ‘let me show you some more of your old friends.’ - </p> - <p> - I looked out, and saw below me in the courtyard my three horses drawn up - in a row, the Cid being bestridden by Simon Fleix, who, seeing me, waved a - triumphant greeting. A groom stood at the head of each horse, and on - either side was a man with a torch. My companion laughed gleefully. ‘It - was Maignan’s arrangement,’ he said. ‘He has a quaint taste in such - things.’ - </p> - <p> - After greeting Simon Fleix a hundred times, I turned back into the room, - and, my heart overflowing with gratitude and wonder, I begged M. de Rosny - to acquaint me with the details of mademoiselle’s escape. - </p> - <p> - ‘It was the most simple thing in the world,’ he said, taking me by the - hand and leading me back to the hearth. ‘While you were engaged with the - rascals, the old woman who daily brought mademoiselle’s food grew alarmed - at the uproar, and came into the room to learn what it was. Mademoiselle, - unable to help you, and uncertain of your success, thought the opportunity - too good to be lost. She forced the old woman to show her and her maid the - way out through the garden. This done, they ran down a lane, as I - understand, and came immediately upon the lad with the horses, who - recognised them and helped them to mount. They waited some minutes for - you, and then rode off.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But I inquired at the gate,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘At which gate?’ inquired M. de Rosny, smiling. - </p> - <p> - ‘The North-gate, of course,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Just so,’ he rejoined with a nod. ‘But they went out through the - West-gate and made a circuit. He is a strange lad, that of yours below - there. He has a head on his shoulder, M. de Marsac. Well, two leagues - outside the town they halted, scarcely knowing how to proceed. By good - fortune, however, a horse-dealer of my acquaintance was at the inn. He - knew Mademoiselle de la Vire, and, hearing whither she was bound, brought - her hither without let or hindrance.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Was he a Norman?’ I asked, - </p> - <p> - M. de Rosny nodded, smiling at me shrewdly. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘he told me - much about you. And now let me introduce you to my wife, Madame de Rosny.’ - </p> - <p> - He led me up to the lady who had risen at my entrance, and who now - welcomed me as kindly as she had before looked on me, paying me many - pleasant compliments. I gazed at her with interest, having heard much of - her beauty and of the strange manner in which M. de Rosny, being enamoured - of two young ladies, and chancing upon both while lodging in different - apartments at an inn, had decided which he should visit and make his wife. - He appeared to read what was in my mind, for as I bowed before her, - thanking her for the obliging things which she had uttered, and which for - ever bound me to her service, he gaily pinched her ear, and said, ‘When - you want a good wife, M. de Marsac, be sure you turn to the right.’ - </p> - <p> - He spoke in jest, and having his own case only in his mind. But I, looking - mechanically in the direction he indicated, saw mademoiselle standing a - pace or two to my right in the shadow of the great chimney-piece. I know - not whether she frowned more or blushed more; but this for certain, that - she answered my look with one of sharp displeasure, and, turning her back - on me, swept quickly from the room, with no trace in her bearing of that - late tenderness and gratitude which I had remarked. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIII. AT ROSNY. - </h2> - <p> - The morning brought only fresh proofs of the kindness which M. de Rosny - had conceived for me. Awaking early I found on a stool beside my clothes, - a purse of gold containing a hundred crowns; and a youth presently - entering to ask me if I lacked anything, I had at first some difficulty in - recognising Simon Fleix, so sprucely was the lad dressed, in a mode - resembling Maignan’s. I looked at the student more than once before I - addressed him by his name; and was as much surprised by the strange change - I observed in him for it was not confined to his clothes—as by - anything which had happened since I entered the house. I rubbed my eyes, - and asked him what he had done with his soutane. ‘Burned it, M. de - Marsac,’ he answered briefly. - </p> - <p> - I saw that he had burned much, metaphorically speaking, besides his - soutane. He was less pale, less lank, less wobegone than formerly, and - went more briskly. He had lost the air of crack-brained disorder which had - distinguished him, and was smart, sedate, and stooped less. Only the odd - sparkle remained in his eyes, and bore witness to the same nervous, eager - spirit within. - </p> - <p> - ‘What are you going to do, then, Simon?’ I asked, noting these changes - curiously. - </p> - <p> - ‘I am a soldier,’ he answered, ‘and follow M. de Marsac.’ - </p> - <p> - I laughed. ‘You have chosen a poor service, I am afraid,’ I said, - beginning to rise; ‘and one, too, Simon, in which it is possible you may - be killed. I thought that would not suit you,’ I continued, to see what he - would say. But he answered nothing, and I looked at him in great surprise. - ‘You have made up your mind, then, at last?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Perfectly,’ he answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘And solved all your doubts?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I have no doubts.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You are a Huguenot?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That is the only true and pure religion,’ he replied gravely. And with - apparent sincerity and devotion he repeated Beza’s Confession of Faith. - </p> - <p> - This filled me with profound astonishment, but I said no more at the time, - though I had my doubts. I waited until I was alone with M. de Rosny, and - then I unbosomed myself on the matter; expressing my surprise at the - suddenness of the conversion, and at such a man, as I had found the - student to be, stating his views so firmly and steadfastly, and with so - little excitement. Observing that M. de Rosny smiled but answered nothing, - I explained myself farther. - </p> - <p> - ‘I am surprised,’ I said, ‘because I have always heard it maintained that - clerkly men, becoming lost in the mazes of theology, seldom find any sure - footing; that not one in a hundred returns to his old faith, or finds - grace to accept a new one. I am speaking only of such, of course, as I - believe this lad to be—eager, excitable brains, learning much, and - without judgment to digest what they learn.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Of such I also believe it to be true,’ M. de Rosny answered, still - smiling. ‘But even on them a little influence, applied at the right - moment, has much effect, M. de Marsac.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I allow that,’ I said. ‘But my mother, of whom I have spoken to you, saw - much of this youth. His fidelity to her was beyond praise. Yet her faith, - though grounded on a rock, had no weight with him.’ - </p> - <p> - M. de Rosny shook his head, still smiling. - </p> - <p> - ‘It is not our mothers who convert us,’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘What!’ I cried, my eyes opened. ‘Do you mean—do you mean that - Mademoiselle has done this?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I fancy so,’ he answered, nodding. ‘I think my lady cast her spell over - him by the way. The lad left Blois with her, if what you say be true, - without faith in the world. He came to my hands two days later the - stoutest of Huguenots. It is not hard to read this riddle.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Such, conversions are seldom lasting,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - He looked at me queerly; and, the smile still hovering about his lips, - answered ‘Tush, man! Why so serious? Theodore Beza himself could not look - dryer. The lad is in earnest, and there is no harm done.’ - </p> - <p> - And, Heaven knows, I was in no mood to suspect harm; nor inclined just - then to look at the dark side of things. It may be conceived how - delightful it was to me to be received as an equal and honoured guest by a - man, even then famous, and now so grown in reputation as to overshadow all - Frenchmen save his master; how pleasant to enjoy the comforts and - amiabilities of home, from which I had been long estranged; to pour my - mother’s story into Madame’s ears and find comfort in her sympathy; to - feel myself, en fin, once more a gentleman with an acknowledged place in - the world. Our days we spent in hunting, or excursions of some kind, our - evenings in long conversations, which impressed me with an ever-growing - respect for my lord’s powers. - </p> - <p> - For there seemed to be no end either to his knowledge of France, or to the - plans for its development, which even then filled his brain, and have - since turned wildernesses into fruitful lands, and squalid towns into - great cities. Grave and formal, he could yet unbend; the most sagacious of - counsellors, he was a soldier also, and loved the seclusion in which we - lived the more that it was not devoid of danger; the neighbouring towns - being devoted to the League, and the general disorder alone making it - possible for him to lie unsuspected in his own house. - </p> - <p> - One thing only rendered my ease and comfort imperfect, and that was the - attitude which Mademoiselle de la Vire assumed towards me. Of her - gratitude in the first blush of the thing I felt no doubt, for not only - had she thanked me very prettily, though with reserve, on the evening of - my arrival, but the warmth of M. de Rosny’s kindness left me no choice, - save to believe that she had given him an exaggerated idea of my merits - and services. I asked no more than this. Such good offices left me nothing - to expect or desire; my age and ill-fortune placing me at so great a - disadvantage that, far from dreaming of friendship or intimacy with her, I - did not even assume the equality in our daily intercourse to which my - birth, taken by itself, entitled me. Knowing that I must appear in her - eyes old, poor, and ill-dressed, and satisfied, with having asserted my - conduct and honour, I was careful not to trespass on her gratitude; and - while forward in such courtesies as could not weary her, I avoided with - equal care every appearance of pursuing her, or inflicting my company upon - her. I addressed her formally and upon formal topics only, such, I mean, - as we shared with the rest of our company; and I reminded myself often - that though we now met in the same house and at the same table, she was - still the Mademoiselle de la Vire who had borne herself so loftily in the - King of Navarre’s ante-chamber. This I did, not out of pique or wounded - pride, which I no more, God knows, harboured against her than against a - bird; but that I might not in my new prosperity forget the light in which - such a woman, young, spoiled, and beautiful, must still regard me. - </p> - <p> - Keeping to this inoffensive posture, I was the more hurt when I found her - gratitude fade with the hour. After the first two days, during which I - remarked that she was very silent, seldom speaking to me or looking at me, - she resumed much of her old air of disdain. For that I cared little; but - she presently went farther, and began to rake up the incidents which had - happened at St. Jean d’Angely, and in which I had taken part. She - continually adverted to my poverty while there, to the odd figure I had - cut, and the many jests her friends had made at my expense. She seemed to - take a pleasure positively savage in these, gibing at me sometimes so - bitterly as to shame and pain me, and bring the colour to Madame de - Rosny’s cheeks. - </p> - <p> - To the time we had spent together, on the other hand, she never or rarely - referred. One afternoon, however, a week after my arrival at Rosny, I - found her sitting alone in the parlour. I had not known she was there, and - I was for withdrawing at once with a bow and a muttered apology. But she - stopped me with an angry gesture. ‘I do not bite,’ she said, rising from - her stool and meeting my eyes, a red spot in each cheek. ‘Why do you look - at me like that? Do you know, M. de Marsac, that I have no patience with - you.’ And she stamped her foot on the floor. - </p> - <p> - ‘But, mademoiselle,’ I stammered humbly, wondering what in the world she - meant, ‘what have I done?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Done?’ she repeated angrily. ‘Done? It is not what you have done, it is - what you are. I have no patience with you. Why are you so dull, sir? Why - are you so dowdy? Why do you go about with your doublet awry, and your - hair lank? Why do you speak to Maignan as if he were a gentleman? Why do - you look always solemn and polite, and as if all the world were a preche? - Why? Why? Why, I say?’ - </p> - <p> - She stopped from sheer lack of breath, leaving me as much astonished as - ever in my life. She looked so beautiful in her fury and fierceness too, - that I could only stare at her and wonder dumbly what it all meant. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well!’ she cried impatiently, after bearing this as long as she could, - ‘have you not a word to say for yourself? Have you no tongue? Have you no - will of your own at all, M. de Marsac?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But, mademoiselle,’ I began, trying to explain. - </p> - <p> - ‘Chut!’ she exclaimed, cutting me short before I could get farther, as the - way of women is. And then she added, in a changed tone, and very abruptly, - ‘You have a velvet knot of mine, sir. Give it me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is in my room,’ I answered, astonished beyond measure at this sudden - change of subject, and equally sudden demand. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then fetch it, sir, if you please,’ she replied, her eyes flashing - afresh. ‘Fetch it. Fetch it, I say! It has served its turn, and I prefer - to have it. Who knows but that some day you may be showing it for a - love-knot?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle!’ I cried, hotly. And I think that for the moment I was as - angry as she was. - </p> - <p> - ‘Still, I prefer to have it,’ she answered sullenly, casting down her - eyes. - </p> - <p> - I was so much enraged, I went without a word and fetched it, and, bringing - it to her where she stood, in the same place, put it into her hands. When - she saw it some recollection, I fancy, of the day when she had traced the - cry for help on it, came to her in her anger; for she took it from me with - all her bearing altered. She trembled, and held it for a moment in her - hands, as if she did not know what to do with it. She was thinking, - doubtless, of the house in Blois and the peril she had run there; and, - being for my part quite willing that she should think and feel how badly - she had acted, I stood looking at her, sparing her no whit of my glance. - </p> - <p> - ‘The gold chain you left on my mother’s pillow,’ I said coldly, seeing she - continued silent, ‘I cannot return to you at once, for I have pledged it. - But I will do so as soon as I can.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You have pledged it?’ she muttered, with her eyes averted. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, mademoiselle, to procure a horse to bring me here,’ I replied drily. - ‘However, it, shall be redeemed. In return, there is something I too would - ask.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ she murmured, recovering herself with all effort, and looking at - me with something of her old pride and defiance. - </p> - <p> - ‘The broken coin you have,’ I said. ‘The token, I mean. It is of no use to - you, for your enemies hold the other half. It might be of service to me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘How?’ she asked curtly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Because some day I may find its fellow, mademoiselle,’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And then?’ she cried. She looked at me, her lips parted, her eyes - flashing. ‘What then, when you have found its fellow, M. de Marsac?’ - </p> - <p> - I shrugged my shoulders. - </p> - <p> - ‘Bah!’ she exclaimed, clenching her little hand, and stamping her foot on - the floor in a passion I could not understand. ‘That is you! That is M. de - Marsac all over. You say nothing, and men think nothing of you. You go - with your hat in your hand, and they tread on you. They speak, and you are - silent! Why, if I could use a sword as you can, I would keep silence - before no man, nor let any man save the King of France cock his hat in my - presence! But you! There! go, leave me. Here is your coin. Take it and go. - Send me that lad of yours to keep me awake. At any rate he has brains, he - is young, he is a man, he has a soul, he can feel—if he were - anything but a clerk.’ - </p> - <p> - She waved me off in such a wind of passion as might have amused me in - another, but in her smacked so strongly of ingratitude as to pain me not a - little. I went, however, and sent Simon to her; though I liked the errand - very ill, and no better when I saw the lad’s face light up at the mention - of her name. But apparently she had not recovered her temper when he - reached her, for he fared no better than I had done; coming away presently - with the air of a whipped dog, as I saw from the yew-tree walk where I was - strolling. - </p> - <p> - Still, after that she made it a habit to talk to him more and more; and, - Monsieur and Madame de Rosny being much taken up with one another, there - was no one to check her fancy or speak a word of advice. Knowing her - pride, I had no fears for her; but it grieved me to think that the lad’s - head should be turned. A dozen times I made up my mind to speak to her on - his behalf; but for one thing it was not my business, and for another I - soon discovered that she was aware of my displeasure, and valued it not a - jot. For venturing one morning, when she was in a pleasant humour, to hint - that she treated those beneath her too inhumanly, and with an unkindness - as little becoming noble blood as familiarity, she asked me scornfully if - I did not think she treated Simon Fleix well enough. To which I had - nothing to answer. - </p> - <p> - I might here remark on the system of secret intelligence by means of which - M. de Rosny, even in this remote place, received news of all that was - passing in France. But it is common fame. There was no coming or going of - messengers, which would quickly have aroused suspicion in the neighbouring - town, nor was it possible even for me to say exactly by what channels news - came. But come it did, and at all hours of the day. In this way we heard - of the danger of La Ganache and of the effort contemplated by the King of - Navarre for its relief. M. de Rosny not only communicated these matters to - me without reserve, but engaged my affections by farther proofs of - confidence such as might well have flattered a man of greater importance. - </p> - <p> - I have said that, as a rule, there was no coming or going of messengers. - But one evening, returning from the chase with one of the keepers, who had - prayed my assistance in hunting down a crippled doe, I was surprised to - find a strange horse, which had evidently been ridden hard and far, - standing smoking in the yard. Inquiring whose it was, I learned that a man - believed by the grooms to be from Blois had just arrived and was closeted - with the baron. An event so far out of the ordinary course of things - naturally aroused my wonder; but desiring to avoid any appearance of - curiosity, which, if indulged, is apt to become the most vulgar of vices, - I refrained from entering the house, and repaired instead to the yew-walk. - I had scarcely, however, heated my blood, a little chilled with riding, - before the page came to me to fetch me to his master. - </p> - <p> - I found M. de Rosny striding up and down his room, his manner so - disordered and his face disfigured by so much grief and horror that I - started on seeing him. My heart sinking in a moment, I did not need to - look at Madame, who sat weeping silently in a chair, to assure myself that - something dreadful had happened. The light was failing, and a lamp had - been brought into the room. M. de Rosny pointed abruptly to a small piece - of paper which lay on the table beside it, and, obeying his gesture, I - took this up and read its contents, which consisted of less than a score - of words. - </p> - <p> - ‘He is ill and like to die,’ the message ran, ‘twenty leagues south of La - Ganache. Come at all costs. P. M. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who?’ I said stupidly—stupidly, for already I began to understand. - Who is ill and like to die?’ - </p> - <p> - M. de Rosny turned to me, and I saw that the tears were trickling unbidden - down his cheeks. ‘There is but one HE for me,’ he cried. ‘May God spare - that one! May He spare him to France, which needs him, to the Church, - which hangs on him, and to me, who love him! Let him not fall in the hour - of fruition. O Lord, let him not fall!’ And he sank on to a stool, and - remained in that posture with his face in his hands, his broad shoulders - shaken with grief. - </p> - <p> - ‘Come, sir,’ I said, after a pause sacred to sorrow and dismay; ‘let me - remind you that while there is life there is hope.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Hope?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, M. de Rosny, hope,’ I replied more cheerfully. ‘He has work to do. - He is elected, called, and chosen; the Joshua of his people, as M. - d’Amours rightly called him. God will not take him yet. You shall see him - and be embraced by him, as has happened a hundred times. Remember, sir, - the King of Navarre is strong, hardy, and young, and no doubt in good - hands.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mornay’s,’ M. de Rosny cried, looking up with contempt in his eye. - </p> - <p> - Yet from that moment he rallied, spurred, I think, by the thought that the - King of Navarre’s recovery depended under God on M. de Mornay; whom he was - ever inclined to regard as his rival. He began to make instant - preparations for departure from Rosny, and bade me do so also, telling me, - somewhat curtly and without explanation, that he had need of me. The - danger of so speedy a return to the South, where the full weight of the - Vicomte de Turenne’s vengeance awaited me, occurred to me strongly; and I - ventured, though with a little shame, to mention it. But M. de Rosny, - after gazing at me a moment in apparent doubt, put the objection aside - with a degree of peevishness unusual in him, and continued to press on his - arrangements as earnestly as though they did not include separation from a - wife equally loving and beloved. - </p> - <p> - Having few things to look to myself, I was at leisure, when the hour of - departure came, to observe both the courage with which Madame de Rosny - supported her sorrow, ‘for the sake of France,’ and the unwonted - tenderness which Mademoiselle de la Vire, lifted for once above herself, - lavished on her. I seemed to stand—happily in one light, and yet the - feeling was fraught with pain—outside their familiar relations; yet, - having made my adieux as short and formal as possible, that I might not - encroach on other and more sacred ones, I found at the last moment - something in waiting for me. I was surprised as I rode under the gateway a - little ahead of the others, by something small and light falling on the - saddle-bow before me. Catching it before it could slide to the ground, I - saw, with infinite astonishment, that I held in my hand a tiny velvet bow. - </p> - <p> - To look up at the window of the parlour, which I have said was over the - archway, was my first impulse. I did so, and met mademoiselle’s eyes for a - second, and a second only. The next moment she was gone. M. de Rosny - clattered through the gate at my heels, the servants behind him. And we - were on the road. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV. M. DE RAMBOUILLET. - </h2> - <p> - For a while we were but a melancholy party. The incident I have last - related which seemed to admit of more explanations than one—left me - in a state of the greatest perplexity; and this prevailed with me for a - time, and was only dissipated at length by my seeing my own face, as it - were, in a glass. For, chancing presently to look behind me, I observed - that Simon Fleix was riding, notwithstanding his fine hat and feather and - his new sword, in a posture and with an air of dejection difficult to - exaggerate; whereon the reflection that master and man had the same object - in their minds—nay, the thought that possibly he bore in his bosom a - like token to that which lay warm in mine—occurring to me, I roused - myself as from some degrading dream, and, shaking up the Cid, cantered - forward to join Rosny, who, in no cheerful mood himself, was riding - steadily forward, wrapped to his eyes in his cloak. - </p> - <p> - The news of the King of Navarre’s illness had fallen on him, indeed, in - the midst of his sanguine scheming with the force of a thunderbolt. He saw - himself in danger of losing at once the master he loved and the brilliant - future to which he looked forward; and amid the imminent crash of his - hopes and the destruction of the system in which he lived, he had scarcely - time to regret the wife he was leaving at Rosny or the quiet from which he - was so suddenly called. His heart was in the South, at La Ganache, by - Henry’s couch. His main idea was to get there quickly at all risks. The - name of the King of Navarre’s physician was constantly on his lips. - ‘Dortoman is a good man. If anyone call save him, Dortoman will,’ was his - perpetual cry. And whenever he met anyone who had the least appearance of - bearing news, he would have me stop and interrogate him, and by no means - let the traveller go until he had given us the last rumour from Blois—the - channel through which all the news from the South reached us. - </p> - <p> - An incident which occurred at the inn that evening cheered him somewhat; - the most powerful minds being prone, I have observed, to snatch at omens - in times of uncertainty. An elderly man, of strange appearance, and - dressed in an affected and bizarre fashion, was seated at table when we - arrived. Though I entered first in my assumed capacity of leader of the - party, he let me pass before him without comment, but rose and solemnly - saluted M. de Rosny, albeit the latter walked behind me and was much more - plainly dressed. Rosny returned his greeting and would have passed on; but - the stranger, interposing with a still lower bow, invited him to take his - seat, which was near the fire and sheltered from the draught, at the same - time making as if he would himself remove to another place. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay,’ said my companion, surprised by such an excess of courtesy, ‘I do - not see why I should take your place, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Not mine only,’ the old man rejoined, looking at him with a particularity - and speaking with an emphasis which attracted our attention, ‘but those of - many others, who I can assure you will very shortly yield them up to you, - whether they will or not.’ - </p> - <p> - M. de Rosny shrugged his shoulders and passed on, affecting to suppose the - old man wandered. But privately he thought much of his words, and more - when he learned that he was an astrologer from Paris, who had the name, at - any rate in this country, of having studied under Nostradamus. And whether - he drew fresh hopes from this, or turned his attention more particularly - as we approached Blois to present matters, certainly he grew more - cheerful, and began again to discuss the future, as though assured of his - master’s recovery. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have never been to the King’s Court?’ he said presently, following - up, as I judged, a train of thought in his own mind. ‘At Blois, I mean.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No; nor do I feel anxious to visit it,’ I answered. ‘To tell you the - truth, M. le Baron,’ I continued with some warmth, ‘the sooner me are - beyond Blois, the better I shall be pleased. I think we run some risk - there, and, besides, I do not fancy a shambles. I do not think I could see - the king without thinking of the Bartholomew, nor his chamber without - thinking of Guise.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut!’ he said, ‘you have killed a man before now.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Many,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Do they trouble you?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, but they were killed in fair fight,’ I replied, ‘That makes a - difference.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To you,’ he said drily. ‘But you are not the King of France, you see. - Should you ever come across him,’ he continued, flicking his horse’s ears, - a faint smile on his lips, ‘I will give you a hint. Talk to him of the - battles at Jarnac and Moncontour, and praise your Conde’s father! As Conde - lost the fight and, he won it, the compliment comes home to him. The more - hopelessly a man has lost his powers, my friend, the more fondly he - regards them, and the more highly he prizes the victories he call no - longer gain.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ugh!’ I muttered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Of the two parties at Court,’ Rosny continued, calmly overlooking my - ill-humour, ‘trust D’Aumont and Biron and the French clique. They are true - to France at any rate. But whomsoever you see consort with the two Retzs—the - King of Spain’s jackals as men name them—avoid him for a Spaniard - and a traitor.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But the Retzs are Italians,’ I objected peevishly. - </p> - <p> - ‘The same thing,’ he answered curtly. ‘They cry, “Vive le Roi!” but - privately they are for the League, or for Spain, or for whatever may most - hurt us; who are better Frenchmen than themselves, and whose leader will - some day, if God spare his life, be King of France.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, the less I have to do with the one or the other of them, save at - the sword’s point, the better I shall be pleased,’ I rejoined. - </p> - <p> - On that he looked at me with a queer smile; as was his way when he had - more in his mind than appeared. And this, and something special in the - tone of his conversation, as well, perhaps, as my own doubts about my - future and his intentions regarding me, gave me an uneasy feeling; which - lasted through the day, and left me only when more immediate peril - presently rose to threaten us. - </p> - <p> - It happened in this way. We had reached the outskirts of Blois, and were - just approaching the gate, hoping to pass through it without attracting - attention, when two travellers rode slowly out of a lane, the mouth of - which we were passing. They eyed us closely as they reined in to let us go - by; and M. de Rosny, who was riding with his horse’s head at my stirrup, - whispered me to press on. Before I could comply, however, the strangers - cantered by us, and turning in the saddle when abreast of us looked us in - the face. A moment later one of them cried loudly, ‘It is he!’ and both - pulled their horses across the road, and waited for us to come up. - </p> - <p> - Aware that if M. de Rosny were discovered he would be happy if he escaped - with imprisonment, the king being too jealous of his Catholic reputation - to venture to protect a Huguenot, however illustrious, I saw that the - situation was desperate; for, though we were five to two, the - neighbourhood of the city—the gate being scarcely a bow-shot off—rendered - flight or resistance equally hopeless. I could think of nothing for it - save to put a bold face on the matter, and, M. de Rosny doing the same, we - advanced in the most innocent way possible. - </p> - <p> - ‘Halt, there!’ cried one of the strangers sharply. ‘And let me tell you, - sir, you are known.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What if I am?’ I answered impatiently, still pressing on. ‘Are you - highwaymen, that you stop the way?’ - </p> - <p> - The speaker on the other side looked at me keenly, but in a moment - retorted, ‘Enough trifling, sir! Who YOU are I do not know. But the person - riding at your rein is M. de Rosny. Him I do know, and I warn him to - stop.’ - </p> - <p> - I thought the game was lost, but to my surprise my companion answered at - once and almost in the same words I had used. ‘Well, sir, and what of - that?’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘What of that?’ the stranger exclaimed, spurring his horse so as still to - bar the way. ‘Why, only this, that you must be a madman to show yourself - on this side of the Loire.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is long since I have seen the other,’ was my companion’s unmoved - answer. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are M. de Rosny? You do not deny it?’ the man cried in astonishment. - </p> - <p> - ‘Certainly I do not deny it,’ M. de Rosny answered bluntly. ‘And more, the - day has been, sir,’ he continued with sudden fire, ‘when few at his - Majesty’s Court would have dared to chop words with Solomon de Bethune, - much less to stop him on the highway within a mile of the palace. But - times are changed with me, sir, and it would seem with others also, if - true men rallying to his Majesty in his need are to be challenged by every - passer on the road.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What! Are you Solomon de Bethune?’ the man cried incredulously. - Incredulously, but his countenance fell, and his voice was full of chagrin - and disappointment, - </p> - <p> - ‘Who else, sir?’ M. de Rosny replied haughtily. ‘I am, and, as far as I - know, I have as much right on this side of the Loire as any other man.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A thousand pardons.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If you are not satisfied—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, M. de Rosny, I am perfectly satisfied.’ - </p> - <p> - The stranger repented this with a very crestfallen air, adding, ‘A - thousand pardons’; and fell to making other apologies, doffing his hat - with great respect. ‘I took you, if you will pardon me saying so, for your - Huguenot brother, M. Maximilian,’ he explained. ‘The saying goes that he - is at Rosny.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I can answer for that being false,’ M. de Rosny answered peremptorily, - ‘for I have just come from there, and I will answer for it he is not - within ten leagues of the place. And now, sir, as we desire to enter - before the gates shut, perhaps you will excuse us.’ With which he bowed, - and I bowed, and they bowed, and we separated. They gave us the road, - which M. de Rosny took with a great air, and we trotted to the gate, and - passed through it without misadventure. - </p> - <p> - The first street we entered was a wide one, and my companion took - advantage of this to ride up abreast of me. ‘That is the kind of adventure - our little prince is fond of,’ he muttered. ‘But for my part, M. de - Marsac, the sweat is running down my forehead. I have played the trick - more than once before, for my brother and I are as like as two peas. And - yet it would have gone ill with us if the fool had been one of his - friends.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘All’s well that ends well,’ I answered in a low voice, thinking it an ill - time for compliments. As it was, the remark was unfortunate, for M. de - Rosny was still in the act of reining back when Maignan called out to us - to say we were being followed. - </p> - <p> - I looked behind, but could see nothing except gloom and rain and - overhanging eaves and a few figures cowering in doorways. The servants, - however, continued to maintain that it was so, and we held, without - actually stopping, a council of war. If detected, we were caught in a - trap, without hope of escape; and for the moment I am sure M. do Rosny - regretted that he had chosen this route by Blois—that he had thrust - himself, in his haste and his desire to take with him the latest news, - into a snare so patent. The castle—huge, dark, and grim—loomed - before us at the end of the street in which we were, and, chilled as I was - myself by the sight, I could imagine how much more appalling it must - appear to him, the chosen counsellor of his master, and the steadfast - opponent of all which it represented. - </p> - <p> - Our consultation came to nothing, for no better course suggested itself - than to go as we had intended to the lodging commonly used by my - companion. We did so, looking behind us often, and saying more than once - that Maignan must be mistaken. As soon as we had dismounted, however, and - gone in, he showed us from the window a man loitering near; and this - confirmation of our alarm sending us to our expedients again, while - Maignan remained watching in a room without a light, I suggested that I - might pass myself off, though ten years older, for my companion. - </p> - <p> - ‘Alas!’ he said, drumming with his fingers on the table ‘there are too - many here who know me to make that possible. I thank you all the same.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Could you escape on foot? Or pass the wall anywhere, or slip through the - gates early?’ I suggested. - </p> - <p> - ‘They might tell us at the Bleeding Heart,’ he answered. But I doubt it. I - was a fool, sir, to put my neck into Mendoza’s halter, and that is a fact. - But here is Maignan. What is it, man?’ he continued eagerly. - </p> - <p> - ‘The watcher is gone, my lord,’ the equerry answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘And has left no one?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No one that I can see.’ - </p> - <p> - We both went into the next room and looked from the windows. The man was - certainly not where we had seen him before. But the rain was falling - heavily, the eaves were dripping, the street was a dark cavern with only - here and there a spark of light, and the fellow might be lurking - elsewhere. Maignan, being questioned, however, believed he had gone off of - set purpose. - </p> - <p> - ‘Which may be read half a dozen ways,’ I remarked. - </p> - <p> - ‘At any rate, we are fasting,’ M. de Rosny answered. Give me a full man in - a fight. Let us sit down and eat. It is no good jumping in the dark, or - meeting troubles half way.’ - </p> - <p> - We were not through our meal, however, Simon Fleix waiting on us with a - pale face, when Maignan came in again from the dark room. ‘My lord,’ he - said quietly, ‘three men have appeared. Two of them remain twenty paces - away. The third has come to the door.’ As he spoke we heard a cautious - summons below, Maignan was for going down, but his master bade him stand. - Let the woman of the house go,’ he said. - </p> - <p> - I remarked and long remembered M. de Rosny’s SANG-FROID on this occasion. - His pistols he had already laid on a chair beside him throwing his cloak - over them; and now, while we waited, listening in breathless silence, I - saw him hand a large slice of bread-and-meat to his equerry, who, standing - behind his chair, began eating it with the same coolness. Simon Fleix, on - the other hand, stood gazing at the door, trembling in every limb, and - with so much of excitement and surprise in his attitude that I took the - precaution of bidding him, in a low voice, do nothing without orders. At - the same moment it occurred to me to extinguish two of the four candles - which had been lighted; and I did so, M. de Rosny nodding assent, just as - the muttered conversation which was being carried on below ceased, and a - man’s tread sounded on the stairs. - </p> - <p> - It was followed immediately by a knock on the outside of our door. Obeying - my companion’s look, I cried, ‘Enter!’ - </p> - <p> - A slender man of middle height, booted and wrapped up, with his face - almost entirely hidden by a fold of his cloak, came in quickly, and - closing the door behind him, advanced towards the table. ‘Which is M. de - Rosny?’ he said. - </p> - <p> - Rosny had carefully turned his face from the light, but at the sound of - the other’s voice he sprang up with a cry of relief. He was about to - speak, when the newcomer, raising his hand peremptorily, continued, ‘No - names, I beg. Yours, I suppose, is known here. Mine is not, nor do I - desire it should be. I want speech of you, that is all.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am greatly honoured,’ M. de Rosny replied, gazing at him eagerly. ‘Yet, - who told you I was here?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I saw you pass under a lamp in the street,’ the stranger answered. ‘I - knew your horse first, and you afterwards, and bade a groom follow you. - Believe me,’ he added, with a gesture of the hand, ‘you have nothing to - fear from me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I accept the assurance in the spirit in which it is offered,’ my - companion answered with a graceful bow, ‘and think myself fortunate in - being recognised’—he paused a moment and then continued—‘by a - Frenchman and a man of honour.’ - </p> - <p> - The stranger shrugged his shoulders. ‘Your pardon, then,’ he said, ‘if I - seem abrupt. My time is short. I want to do the best with it I can. Will - you favour me?’ - </p> - <p> - I was for withdrawing, but M. de Rosny ordered Maignan to place lights in - the next room, and, apologising to me very graciously, retired thither - with the stranger, leaving me relieved indeed by these peaceful - appearances, but full of wonder and conjectures who this might be, and - what the visit portended. At one moment I was inclined to identify the - stranger with M. de Rosny’s brother; at another with the English - ambassador; and then, again, a wild idea that he might be M. de Bruhl - occurred to me. The two remained together about a quarter of an hour and - then came out, the stranger leading the way, and saluting me politely as - he passed through the room. At the door he turned to say, ‘At nine - o’clock, then?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘At nine o’clock,’ M. de Rosny replied, holding the door open. ‘You will - excuse me if I do not descend, Marquis?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, go back, my friend,’ the stranger answered. And, lighted by Maignan, - whose face on such occasions could assume the most stolid air in the - world, he disappeared down the stairs, and I heard him go out. - </p> - <p> - M. de Rosny turned to me, his eyes sparkling with joy, his face and mien - full of animation. ‘The King of Navarre is better,’ he said. ‘He is said - to be out of danger. What do you think of that, my friend?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That is the best news I have heard for many a day,’ I answered. And I - hastened to add, that France and the Religion had reason to thank God for - His mercy. - </p> - <p> - ‘Amen to that,’ my patron replied reverently. ‘But that is not all—that - is not all.’ And he began to walk up and down the room humming the 118th - Psalm a little above his breath— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - La voici l’heureuse journee - Que Dieu a faite a plein desir; - Par nous soit joie demenee, - Et prenons en elle plaisir. -</pre> - <p> - He continued, indeed, to walk up and down the floor so long, and with so - joyful a countenance and demeanour, that I ventured, at last to remind him - of my presence, which he had clearly forgotten. ‘Ha! to be sure,’ he said, - stopping short and looking at me with the utmost good-humour. ‘What time - is it? Seven. Then until nine o’clock, my friend, I crave your indulgence. - En fin, until that time I must keep counsel. Come, I am hungry still. Let - us sit down, and this time I hope we may not be interrupted. Simon, set us - on a fresh bottle. Ha! ha! VIVENT LE ROI ET LE ROI DE NAVARRE!’ And again - he fell to humming the same psalm— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - O Dieu eternel, je te prie, - Je te prie, ton roi maintiens: - O Dieu, je te prie et reprie, - Sauve ton roi et l’entretiens! -</pre> - <p> - doing so with a light in his eyes and a joyous emphasis, which impressed - me the more in a man ordinarily so calm and self-contained. I saw that - something had occurred to gratify him beyond measure, and, believing his - statement that this was not the good news from La Ganache only, I waited - with the utmost interest and anxiety for the hour of nine, which had no - sooner struck than our former visitor appeared with the same air of - mystery and disguise which had attended him before. - </p> - <p> - M. de Rosny, who had risen on hearing his step and had taken up his cloak, - paused with it half on and half off, to cry anxiously, ‘All is well, is it - not?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Perfectly,’ the stranger replied, with a nod. - </p> - <p> - ‘And my friend?’ - </p> - <p> - Yes, on condition that you answer for his discretion and fidelity.’ And - the stranger glanced involuntarily at me who stood uncertain whether to - hold my ground or retire. - </p> - <p> - ‘Good,’ M. de Rosny cried. Then he turned to me with a mingled air of - dignity and kindness, and continued: ‘This is the gentleman. M. de Marsac, - I am honoured with permission to present you to the Marquis de - Rambouillet, whose interest and protection I beg you to deserve, for he is - a true Frenchman and a patriot whom I respect.’ - </p> - <p> - M. de Rambouillet saluted me politely. ‘Of a Brittany family, I think?’ he - said. - </p> - <p> - I assented; and he replied with something complimentary. But afterwards he - continued to look at me in silence with a keenness and curiosity I did not - understand. At last, when M. de Rosny’s impatience had reached a high - pitch, the marquis seemed impelled to add something. ‘You quite understand - M. de Rosny?’ he said. ‘Without saying anything disparaging of M. de - Marsac, who is, no doubt, a man of honour’—and he bowed to me very - low—‘this is a delicate matter, and you will introduce no one into - it, I am sure, whom you cannot trust as yourself.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Precisely,’ M. de Rosny replied, speaking drily, yet with a grand air - which fully matched his companion’s. ‘I am prepared to trust this - gentleman not only with my life but with my honour.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nothing more remains to be said then,’ the marquis rejoined, bowing to me - again. ‘I am glad to have been the occasion of a declaration so flattering - to you, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - I returned his salute in silence, and obeying M. de Rosny’s muttered - direction put on, my cloak and sword. M. de Rosny took up his pistols. - </p> - <p> - ‘You will have no need of those,’ the Marquis said with a high glance. - </p> - <p> - ‘Where we are going, no,’ my companion answered, calmly continuing to - dispose them about him. ‘But the streets are dark and not too safe.’ - </p> - <p> - M. de Rambouillet laughed. ‘That is the worst of you Huguenots,’ he said. - ‘You never know when to lay suspicion aside.’ - </p> - <p> - A hundred retorts sprang to my lips. I thought of the Bartholomew, of the - French fury of Antwerp, of half a dozen things which make my blood boil to - this day. But M. de Rosny’s answer was the finest of all. ‘That is true, I - am afraid,’ he said quietly. ‘On the other hand, you Catholics—take - the late M. de Guise for instance—have the habit of erring on the - other side, I think, and sometimes trust too far.’ - </p> - <p> - The marquis, without making any answer to this home-thrust, led the way - out, and we followed, being joined at the door of the house by a couple of - armed lackeys, who fell in behind us. We went on foot. The night was dark, - and the prospect out of doors was not cheering. The streets were wet and - dirty, and notwithstanding all our care we fell continually into pitfalls - or over unseen obstacles. Crossing the PARVIS of the cathedral, which I - remembered, we plunged in silence into an obscure street near the river, - and so narrow that the decrepit houses shut out almost all view of the - sky. The gloom of our surroundings, no less than my ignorance of the - errand on which we were bound, filled me with anxiety and foreboding. My - companions keeping strict silence, however, and taking every precaution to - avoid being recognised, I had no choice but to do likewise. - </p> - <p> - I could think, and no more. I felt myself borne along by an irresistible - current, whither and for what purpose I could not tell; an experience to - an extent strange at my age the influence of the night and the weather. - Twice we stood aside to let a party of roisterers go by, and the excessive - care M. de Rambouillet evinced on these occasions to avoid recognition did - not tend to reassure me or make me think more lightly of the unknown - business on which I was bound. - </p> - <p> - Reaching at last an open space, our leader bade us in a low voice be - careful and follow him closely. We did so and crossed in this way and in - single file a narrow plank or wooden bridge; but whether water ran below - or a dry ditch only, I could not determine. My mind was taken up at the - moment with the discovery which I had just made, that the dark building, - looming huge and black before us with a single light twinkling here and - there at great heights, was the Castle of Blois. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XV. VILAIN HERODES. - </h2> - <p> - All the distaste and misliking I had expressed earlier in the day for the - Court of Blois recurred with fresh force in the darkness and gloom; and - though, booted and travel-stained as we were, I did not conceive it likely - that we should be obtruded on the circle about the king, I felt none the - less an oppressive desire to be through with our adventure, and away from - the ill-omened precincts in which I found myself. The darkness prevented - me seeing the faces of my companions; but on M. de Rosny, who was not - quite free himself, I think, from the influences of the time and place, - twitching my sleeve to enforce vigilance, I noted that the lackeys had - ceased to follow us, and that we three were beginning to ascend a rough - staircase cut in the rock. I gathered, though the darkness limited my view - behind as well as in front to a few twinkling lights, that we were - mounting the scarp from the moat; to the side wall of the castle; and I - was not surprised when the marquis muttered to us to stop, and knocked - softly on the wood of a door. - </p> - <p> - M. de Rosny might have spared the touch he had laid on my sleeve, for by - this time I was fully and painfully sensible of the critical position in - which we stood, and was very little likely to commit an indiscretion. I - trusted he had not done so already! No doubt—it flashed across me - while we waited—he had taken care to safeguard himself. But how - often, I reflected, had all safeguards been set aside and all precautions - eluded by those to whom he was committing himself! Guise had thought - himself secure in this very building, which we were about to enter. - Coligny had received the most absolute of safe-conducts from those to whom - we were apparently bound. The end in either case had been the same—the - confidence of the one proving of no more avail than the wisdom of the - other. What if the King of France thought to make his peace with his - Catholic subjects—offended by the murder of Guise—by a second - murder of one as obnoxious to them as he was precious to their arch-enemy - in the South? Rosny was sagacious indeed; but then I reflected with sudden - misgiving that he was young, ambitious, and bold. - </p> - <p> - The opening of the door interrupted without putting an end to this train - of apprehension. A faint light shone out; so feebly as to illumine little - more than the stairs at our feet. The marquis entered at once, M. de Rosny - followed, I brought up the rear; and the door was closed by a man who - stood behind it. We found ourselves crowded together at the foot of a very - narrow staircase, which the doorkeeper—a stolid pikeman in a grey - uniform, with a small lanthorn swinging from the crosspiece of his halberd—signed - to us to ascend. I said a word to him, but he only stared in answer, and - M. de Rambouillet, looking back and seeing what I was about, called to me - that it was useless, as the man was a Swiss and spoke no French. - </p> - <p> - This did not tend to reassure me; any more than did the chill roughness of - the wall which my hand touched as I groped upwards, or the smell of bats - which invaded my nostrils and suggested that the staircase was little used - and belonged to a part of the castle fitted for dark and secret doings. - </p> - <p> - We stumbled in the blackness up the steps, passing one door and then a - second before M. de Rambouillet whispered to us to stand, and knocked - gently at a third. - </p> - <p> - The secrecy, the darkness, and above all the strange arrangements made to - receive us, filled me with the wildest conjectures. But when the door - opened and we passed one by one into a bare, unfurnished, draughty - gallery, immediately, as I judged, under the tiles, the reality agreed - with no one of my anticipations. The place was a mere garret, without a - hearth, without a single stool. Three windows, of which one was roughly - glazed, while the others were filled with oiled paper, were set in one - wall; the others displaying the stones and mortar without disguise or - ornament. Beside the door through which we had entered stood a silent - figure in the grey uniform I had seen below, his lanthorn on the floor at - his feet. A second door at the farther end of the gallery, which was full - twenty paces long, was guarded in like manner. A couple of lanthorns stood - in the middle of the floor, and that was all. - </p> - <p> - Inside the door, M. de Rambouillet with his finger on his lip stopped us, - and we stood a little group of three a pace in front of the sentry, and - with the empty room before us. I looked at M. de Rosny, but he was looking - at Rambouillet. The marquis had his back towards me, the sentry was gazing - into vacancy; so that baffled in my attempt to learn anything from the - looks of the other actors in the scene, I fell back on my ears. The rain - dripped outside and the moaning wind rattled the casements; but mingled - with these melancholy sounds—which gained force, as such things - always do, from the circumstances in which we were placed and our own - silence—I fancied I caught the distant hum of voices and music and - laughter. And that, I know not why, brought M. de Guise again to my mind. - </p> - <p> - The story of his death, as I had heard it from that accursed monk in the - inn on the Claine, rose up in all its freshness, with all its details. I - started when M. de Rambouillet coughed. I shivered when Rosny shifted his - feet. The silence grew oppressive. Only the stolid men in grey seemed - unmoved, unexpectant; so that I remember wondering whether it was their - nightly duty to keep guard over an empty garret, the floor strewn with - scraps of mortar and ends of tiles. - </p> - <p> - The interruption, when it came at last, came suddenly. The sentry at the - farther end of the gallery started and fell back a pace. Instantly the - door beside him opened and a man came in, and closing it quickly behind - him, advanced up the room with an air of dignity, which even his strange - appearance and attire could not wholly destroy. - </p> - <p> - He was of good stature and bearing, about forty years old as I judged, his - wear a dress of violet velvet with black points cut in the extreme of the - fashion. He carried a sword but no ruff, and had a cup and ball of ivory—a - strange toy much in vogue among the idle—suspended from his wrist by - a ribbon. He was lean and somewhat narrow, but so far I found little fault - with him. It was only when my eye reached his face, and saw it rouged like - a woman’s and surmounted by a little turban, that a feeling of scarcely - understood disgust seized me, and I said to myself, ‘This is the stuff of - which kings’ minions are made!’ - </p> - <p> - To my surprise, however, M. de Rambouillet went to meet him with the - utmost respect, sweeping the dirty floor with his bonnet, and bowing to - the very ground. The newcomer acknowledged his salute with negligent - kindness. Remarking pleasantly ‘You have brought a friend, I think?’ he - looked towards us with a smile. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, sire, he is here,’ the marquis answered, stepping aside a little. - And with the word I understood that this was no minion, but the king - himself: Henry, the Third of the name, and the last of the great House of - Valois, which had ruled France by the grace of God for two centuries and a - half! I stared at him, and stared at him, scarcely believing what I saw. - For the first time in my life I was in the presence of the king! - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile M. de Rosny, to whom he was, of course, no marvel, had gone - forward and knelt on one knee. The king raised him graciously, and with an - action which, viewed apart from his woman’s face and silly turban, seemed - royal and fitting. ‘This is good of you, Rosny,’ he said. ‘But it is only - what I expected of you.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Sire,’ my companion answered, ‘your Majesty has no more devoted servant - than myself, unless it be the king my master.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘By my faith,’ Henry answered with energy—‘and if I am not a good - churchman, whatever those rascally Parisians say, I am nothing—by my - faith, I think I believe you!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If your Majesty would believe me in that and in some other things also,’ - M. de Rosny answered, ‘it would be very well for France.’ Though he spoke - courteously, he threw so much weight and independence into his words that - I thought of the old proverb, ‘A good master, a bold servant.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, that is what we are here to see,’ the king replied. ‘But one tells - me one thing,’ he went on fretfully, ‘and one another, and which am I to - believe?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I know nothing of others, sire,’ Rosny answered with the same spirit. - ‘But my master has every claim to be believed. His interest in the royalty - of France is second only to your Majesty’s. He is also a king and a - kinsman, and it erks him to see rebels beard you, as has happened of - late.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, but the chief of them?’ Henry exclaimed, giving way to sudden - excitement and stamping furiously on the floor. ‘He will trouble me no - more. Has my brother heard of THAT? Tell me, sir, has that news reached - him?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He has heard it, sire.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And he approved? He approved, of course?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Beyond doubt the man was a traitor,’ M. de Rosny answered delicately. - ‘His life was forfeit, sire. Who can question it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And he has paid the forfeit,’ the king rejoined, looking down at the - floor and immediately falling into a moodiness as sudden as his - excitement. His lips moved. He muttered something inaudible, and began to - play absently with his cup and ball, his mind occupied apparently with a - gloomy retrospect. ‘M. de Guise, M. de Guise,’ he murmured at last, with a - sneer and an accent of hate which told of old humiliations long - remembered. ‘Well, damn him, he is dead now. He is dead. But being dead he - yet troubles us. Is not that the verse, father? Ha!’ with a start, ‘I was - forgetting. But that is the worst wrong he has done me,’ he continued, - looking up and growing excited again. ‘He has cut me off from Mother - Church. There is hardly a priest comes near me now, and presently they - will excommunicate me. And, as I hope for salvation, the Church has no - more faithful son than me.’ - </p> - <p> - I believe he was on the point, forgetting M. de Rosny’s presence there and - his errand, of giving way to unmanly tears, when M. de Rambouillet, as if - by accident, let the heel of his scabbard fall heavily on the floor. The - king started, and passing his hand once or twice across his brow, seemed - to recover himself. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘no doubt we shall find a way out of - our difficulties.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If your Majesty,’ Rosny answered respectfully, ‘would accept the aid my - master proffers, I venture to think that they would vanish the quicker.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You think so,’ Henry rejoined. ‘Well, give me your shoulder. Let us walk - a little.’ And, signing to Rambouillet to leave him, he began to walk up - and down with M. de Rosny, talking familiarly with him in an undertone. - </p> - <p> - Only such scraps of the conversation as fell from them when they turned at - my end of the gallery now reached me. Patching these together, however, I - managed to understand somewhat. At one turn I heard the king say, ‘But - then Turenne offers—’ At the next, ‘Trust him? Well, I do not know - why I should not. He promises—’ Then ‘A Republic, Rosny? That his - plan? Pooh! he dare not. He could not. France is a kingdom by the - ordinance of God in my family.’ - </p> - <p> - I gathered from these and other chance words, which I have since - forgotten, that M. de Rosny was pressing the king to accept the help of - the King of Navarre, and warning him against the insidious offers of the - Vicomte de Turenne. The mention of a Republic, however, seemed to excite - his Majesty’s wrath rather against Rosny for presuming to refer to such a - thing than against Turenne, to whom he refused to credit it. He paused - near my end of the promenade. - </p> - <p> - ‘Prove it!’ he said angrily. ‘But can you prove it? Can you prove it? Mind - you, I will take no hearsay evidence, sir. Now, there is Turenne’s agent - here—you did not know, I dare say, that he had an agent here?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You refer, sire, to M. de Bruhl,’ Rosny answered, without hesitation. ‘I - know him, sire.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I think you are the devil,’ Henry answered, looking curiously at him. - ‘You seem to know most things. But mind you, my friend, he speaks me - fairly, and I will not take this on hearsay even from your master. - Though,’ he added after pausing a moment, ‘I love him.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And he, your Majesty. He desires only to prove it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, I know, I know,’ the king answered fretfully. ‘I believes he does. I - believe he does wish me well. But there will be a devil of an outcry among - my people. And Turenne gives fair words too. And I do not know,’ he - continued, fidgeting with his cup and ball, ‘that it might not suit me - better to agree with him, you see.’ - </p> - <p> - I saw M. de Rosny draw himself up. ‘Dare I speak openly to you, sire,’ he - said, with less respect and more energy than he had hitherto used. ‘As I - should to my master?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, say what you like,’ Henry answered. But he spoke sullenly, and it - seemed to me that he looked less pleasantly at his companion. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then I will venture to utter what is in your Majesty’s mind,’ my patron - answered steadfastly. ‘You fear, sire, lest, having accepted my master’s - offer and conquered your enemies, you should not be easily rid of him.’ - </p> - <p> - Henry looked relieved. ‘Do you call that diplomacy?’ he said with a smile. - ‘However, what if it be so? What do you say to it? Methinks I have heard - an idle tale about a horse which would hunt a stag; and for the purpose - set a man upon its back.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘This I say, sire, first,’ Rosny answered very earnestly. ‘That the King - of Navarre is popular only with one-third of the kingdom, and is only - powerful when united with you. Secondly, sire, it is his interest to - support the royal power, to which he is heir. And, thirdly, it must be - more to your Majesty’s honour to accept help from a near kinsman than from - an ordinary subject, and one who, I still maintain, sire, has no good - designs in his mind.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The proof’ Henry said sharply. ‘Give me that!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I can give it in a week from this day.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It must be no idle tale, mind you,’ the king continued suspiciously. - </p> - <p> - ‘You shall have Turenne’s designs, sire, from one who had them from his - own mouth.’ - </p> - <p> - The king looked startled, but after a pause turned and resumed his walk. - ‘Well,’ he said, ‘if you do that, I on my part—’ - </p> - <p> - The rest I lost, for the two passing to the farther end of the gallery, - came to a standstill there, balking my curiosity and Rambouillet’s also. - The marquis, indeed, began to betray his impatience, and the great clock - immediately over our heads presently striking the half-hour after ten, he - started and made as if he would have approached the king. He checked the - impulse, however, but still continued to fidget uneasily, losing his - reserve by-and-by so far as to whisper to me that his Majesty would be - missed. - </p> - <p> - I had been, up to this point, a silent and inactive spectator of a scene - which appealed to my keenest interests and aroused my most ardent - curiosity. Surprise following surprise, I had begun to doubt my own - identity; so little had I expected to find myself first in the presence of - the Most Christian King—and that under circumstances as strange and - bizarre as could well be imagined—and then an authorised witness at - a negotiation upon which the future of all the great land of France - stretching for so many hundred leagues on every side of us, depended. I - say I could scarcely believe in my own identity; or that I was the same - Gaston de Marsac who had slunk, shabby and out-at-elbows, about St. Jean - d’Angely. I tasted the first sweetness of secret power, which men say is - the sweetest of all and the last relinquished; and, the hum of distant - voices and laughter still reaching me at intervals, I began to understand - why we had been admitted with, so much precaution, and to comprehend the - gratification of M. de Rosny when the promise of this interview first - presented to him the hope of effecting so much for his master and for - France. - </p> - <p> - Now I was to be drawn into the whirlpool itself. I was still travelling - back over the different stages of the adventure which had brought me to - this point, when I was rudely awakened by M. de Rosny calling my name in a - raised voice. Seeing, somewhat late, that he was beckoning to me to - approach, I went forward in a confused and hasty fashion; kneeling before - the king as I had seen him kneel, and then rising to give ear to his - Majesty’s commands. Albeit, having expected nothing less than to be called - upon, I was not in the clearest mood to receive them. Nor was my bearing - such as I could have wished it to be. - </p> - <p> - M. de Rosny tells me that you desire a commission at Court, sir,’ the king - said quickly. - </p> - <p> - ‘I, sire?’ I stammered, scarcely able to believe my ears. I was so - completely taken aback that I could say no more, and I stopped there with - my mouth open. - </p> - <p> - ‘There are few things I can deny M. de Rosny,’ Henry continued, speaking - very rapidly, ‘and I am told that you are a gentleman of birth and - ability. Out of kindness to him, therefore, I grant you a commission to - raise twenty men for my service. Rambouillet,’ he continued, raising his - voice slightly, ‘you will introduce this gentleman to me publicly - to-morrow, that; I may carry into effect my intention on his behalf. You - may go now, sir. No thanks. And M. de Rosny,’ he added, turning to my - companion and speaking with energy, ‘have a care for my sake that you are - not recognised as you go. Rambouillet must contrive something to enable - you to leave without peril. I should be desolated if anything happened to - you, my friend, for I could not protect you. I give you my word if Mendoza - or Retz found you in Blois I could not save you from them unless you - recanted.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I will not trouble either your Majesty or my conscience,’ M. de Rosny - replied, bowing low, ‘if my wits can help me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, the saints keep you,’ the king answered piously, going towards the - door by which he had entered; ‘for your master and I have both need of - you. Rambouillet, take care of him as you love me. And come early in the - morning to my closet and tell me how it has fared with him.’ - </p> - <p> - We all stood bowing while he withdrew, and only turned to retire when the - door closed behind him. Burning with indignation and chagrin as I was at - finding myself disposed of in the way I have described, and pitchforked, - whether I would or no, into a service I neither fancied nor desired, I - still managed for the present to restrain myself; and, permitting my - companions to precede me, followed in silence, listening sullenly to their - jubilations. The marquis seemed scarcely less pleased than M. de Rosny; - and as the latter evinced a strong desire to lessen any jealousy the - former might feel, and a generous inclination to attribute to him a full - share of the credit gained, I remained the only person dissatisfied with - the evening’s events. We retired from the chateau with the same - precautions which had marked our entrance, and parting with M. de - Rambouillet at the door of our lodging—not without many - protestations of esteem on his part and of gratitude on that of M. de - Rosny—mounted to the first-floor in single file and in silence, - which I was determined not to be the first to break. - </p> - <p> - Doubtless M. de Rosny knew my thoughts, for, speedily dismissing Maignan - and Simon, who were in waiting, he turned to me without preface. ‘Come, my - friend,’ he said, laying his hand on my shoulder and looking me in the - face in a way which all but disarmed me at once, ‘do not let us - misunderstand one another. You think you have cause to be angry with me. I - cannot suffer that, for the King of Navarre had never greater need of your - services than now.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You have played me an unworthy trick, sir,’ I answered, thinking he would - cozen me with fair speeches. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut!’ he replied. ‘You do not understand.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I understand well enough,’ I answered, with bitterness, ‘that, having - done the King of Navarre’s work, he would now be rid of me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Have I not told you,’ M. de Rosny replied, betraying for the first time - some irritation, ‘that he has greater need of your services than ever? - Come, man, be reasonable, or, better still, listen to me.’ And turning - from me, he began to walk up and down the room, his hands behind him. ‘the - King of France—I want to make it as clear to you as possible—’ - he said, ‘cannot make head against the League without help, and, - willy-nilly, must look for it to the Huguenots whom he has so long - persecuted. The King of Navarre, their acknowledged leader, has offered - that help; and so, to spite my master, and prevent a combination so happy - for France, has M. de Turenne, who would fain raise the faction he - commands to eminence, and knows well how to make his profit out of the - dissensions of his country. Are you clear so far, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - I assented. I was becoming absorbed in spite of myself. - </p> - <p> - ‘Very well,’ he resumed. ‘This evening—never did anything fall out - more happily than Rambouillet’s meeting with me—he is a good man!—I - have brought the king to this: that if proof of the selfish nature of - Turenne’s designs be laid before him he will hesitate no longer. That - proof exists. A fortnight ago it was here; but it is not here now.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That is unlucky!’ I exclaimed. I was so much interested in his story, as - well as flattered by the confidence he was placing in me, that my - ill-humour vanished. I went and stood with my shoulder against the - mantelpiece, and he, passing to and fro between me and the light, - continued his tale. - </p> - <p> - ‘A word about this proof,’ he said. ‘It came into the King of Navarre’s - hands before its full value was known to us, for that only accrued to it - on M. de Guise’s death. A month ago it—this piece of evidence I mean—was - at Chize. A fortnight or so ago it was here in Blois. It is now, ‘M. de - Marsac,’ he continued, facing me suddenly as he came opposite me, ‘in my - house at Rosny.’ - </p> - <p> - I started. ‘You mean Mademoiselle de la Vire?’ I cried. - </p> - <p> - ‘I mean Mademoiselle de la Vire!’ he answered, ‘who, some month or two - ago, overheard M. de Turenne’s plans, and contrived to communicate with - the King of Navarre. Before the latter could arrange a private interview, - however, M. de Turenne got wind of her dangerous knowledge, and swept her - off to Chize. The rest you know, M. de Marsac, if any man knows it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But what will you do?’ I asked. ‘She is at Rosny.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Maignan, whom I trust implicitly, as far as his lights go, will start to - fetch her to-morrow. At the same hour I start southwards. You, M. de - Marsac, will remain here as my agent, to watch over my interests, to - receive Mademoiselle on her arrival, to secure for her a secret interview - with the king, to guard her while she remains here. Do you understand?’ - </p> - <p> - Did I understand? I could not find words in which to thank him. My remorse - and gratitude, my sense of the wrong I had done him, and of the honour he - was doing me, were such that I stood mute before him as I had stood before - the king. ‘You accept, then?’ he said, smiling. ‘You do not deem the - adventure beneath you, my friend?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I deserve your confidence so little, sir,’ I answered, stricken to the - ground, ‘that I beg you to speak, while I listen. By attending exactly to - your instructions I may prove worthy of the trust reposed in me. And only - so.’ - </p> - <p> - He embraced me again and again, with a kindness which moved me almost to - tears. ‘You are a man after my own heart,’ he said, ‘and if God wills I - will make your fortune. Now listen, my friend. To-morrow at Court, as a - stranger and a man introduced by Rambouillet, you will be the cynosure of - all eyes. Bear yourself bravely. Pay court to the women, but attach - yourself to no one in particular. Keep aloof from Retz and the Spanish - faction, but beware especially of Bruhl. He alone will have your secret, - and may suspect your design. Mademoiselle should be here in a week; while - she is with you, and until she has seen the king, trust no one, suspect - everyone, fear all things. Consider the battle won only when the king - says, “I am satisfied.”’ - </p> - <p> - Much more he told me, which served its purpose and has been forgotten. - Finally he honoured me by bidding me share his pallet with him, that we - might talk without restraint, and that if anything occurred to him in the - night he might communicate it to me. - </p> - <p> - ‘But will not Bruhl denounce me as a Huguenot?’ I asked him. - </p> - <p> - ‘He will not dare to do so,’ M. de Rosny answered, ‘both as a Huguenot - himself, and as his master’s representative; and, further, because it - would displease the king. No, but whatever secret harm one man can do - another, that you have to fear. Maignan, when he returns with - mademoiselle, will leave two men with you; until they come I should borrow - a couple of stout fellows from Rambouillet. Do not go out alone after - dark, and beware of doorways, especially your own.’ - </p> - <p> - A little later, when I thought him asleep, I heard him chuckle; and rising - on my elbow I asked him what it was. ‘Oh, it is your affair,’ he answered, - still laughing silently, so that I felt the mattress shake under him. ‘I - don’t envy you one part of your task, my friend.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What is that?’ I said suspiciously. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle,’ he answered, stifling with difficulty a burst of laughter. - And after that he would not say another word, bad, good, or indifferent, - though I felt the bed shake more than once, and knew that he was digesting - his pleasantry. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVI. IN THE KING’S CHAMBER. - </h2> - <p> - M. de Rosny had risen from my side and started on his journey when I - opened my eyes in the morning, and awoke to the memory of the task which - had been so strangely imposed upon me; and which might, according as the - events of the next fortnight shaped themselves, raise me to high position - or put an end to my career. He had not forgotten to leave a souvenir - behind him, for I found beside my pillow a handsome silver-mounted pistol, - bearing the letter ‘R.’ and a coronet; nor had I more than discovered this - instance of his kindness before Simon Fleix came in to tell me that M. de - Rosny had left two hundred crowns in his hands for me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Any message with it?’ I asked the lad. - </p> - <p> - ‘Only that; he had taken a keepsake in exchange,’ Simon answered, opening - the window as he spoke. - </p> - <p> - In some wonder I began to search, but I could not discover that anything - was missing until I came to put on my doublet, when I found that the knot - of ribbon which mademoiselle had flung to me at my departure from Rosny - was gone from the inside of the breast, where I had pinned it for safety - with a long thorn. The discovery that M. de Rosny had taken this was - displeasing to me on more than one account. In the first place, whether - mademoiselle had merely wished to plague me (as was most probable) or not, - I was loth to lose it, my day for ladies’ favours being past and gone; in - the second, I misdoubted the motive which had led him to purloin it, and - tormented myself with thinking of the different constructions he might put - upon it, and the disparaging view of my trust worthiness which it might - lead him to take. I blamed myself much for my carelessness in leaving it - where a chance eye might rest upon it; and more when, questioning Simon - further, I learned that M. de Rosny had added, while mounting at the door, - ‘Tell your master, safe bind, safe find; and a careless lover makes a - loose mistress.’ - </p> - <p> - I felt my cheek burn in a manner unbecoming my years while Simon with some - touch of malice repeated this; and I made a vow on the spot, which I kept - until I was tempted to break it, to have no more to do with such trifles. - Meanwhile, I had to make the best of it; and brisking up, and bidding - Simon, who seemed depressed by the baron’s departure, brisk up also, I set - about my preparations for making such a figure at Court as became me: - procuring a black velvet suit, and a cap and feather to match; item, a - jewelled clasp to secure the feather; with a yard or two of lace and two - changes of fine linen. - </p> - <p> - Simon had grown sleek at Rosny, and losing something of the wildness which - had marked him, presented in the dress M. de Rosny had given him a very - creditable appearance; being also, I fancy, the only equerry in Blois who - could write. A groom I engaged on the recommendation of M. de - Rambouillet’s master of the horse; and I gave out also that I required a - couple of valets. It needed only an hour under the barber’s hands and a - set of new trappings for the Cid to enable me to make a fair show, such as - might be taken to indicate a man of ten or twelve thousand livres a year. - </p> - <p> - In this way I expended a hundred and fifteen crowns reflecting that this - was a large sum, and that I must keep some money for play, I was glad to - learn that in the crowded state of the city even men with high rank were - putting up with poor lodging; I determined, therefore, to combine economy - with a scheme which I had in my head by taking the rooms in which my - mother died, with one room below them. This I did, hiring such furniture - as I needed, which was not a great deal. To Simon Fleix, whose assistance - in these matters was invaluable, I passed on much of M. de Rosny’s advice, - bidding him ruffle it with the best in his station, and inciting him to - labour for my advancement by promising to make his fortune whenever my own - should be assured. I hoped, indeed, to derive no little advantage from the - quickness of wit; which had attracted M. de Rosny’s attention; although I - did not fail to take into account at the same time that the lad was - wayward and fitful, prone at one time to depression, and at another to - giddiness, and equally uncertain in either mood. - </p> - <p> - M. de Rambouillet being unable to attend the LEVEE, had appointed me to - wait upon him at six in the evening; at which hour I presented myself at - his lodgings, attended by Simon Fleix. I found him in the midst of half a - dozen gentlemen whose habit it was to attend him upon all public - occasions; and these gallants, greeting me with the same curious and - suspicious glances which I have seen hounds bestow on a strange dog - introduced into their kennel, I was speedily made to feel that it is one - thing to have business at Court, and another to be well received there. - </p> - <p> - M. de Rambouillet, somewhat to my surprise, did nothing to remove this - impression. On all ordinary occasions a man of stiff and haughty bearing, - and thoroughly disliking, though he could not prevent, the intrusion of a - third party into a transaction which promised an infinity of credit, he - received me so coldly and with so much reserve as for the moment to dash - my spirits and throw me back on myself. - </p> - <p> - During the journey to the castle, however, which we performed on foot, - attended by half a dozen armed servants bearing torches, I had time to - recall M. de Rosny’s advice, and to bethink me of the intimacy which that - great man had permitted me; with so much effect in the way of heartening - me, that as we crossed the courtyard of the castle I advanced myself, not - without some murmuring on the part of others, to Rambouillet’s elbow, - considering that as I was attached to him by the king’s command, this was - my proper place. I had no desire to quarrel, however, and persisted for - some time in disregarding the nudges and muttered words which were - exchanged round me, and even the efforts which were made as we mounted the - stairs to oust me from my position. But a young gentleman, who showed - himself very forward in these attempts, presently stumbling against me, I - found it necessary to look at him. - </p> - <p> - ‘Sir,’ he said, in a small and lisping voice, ‘you trod on my toe.’ - </p> - <p> - Though I had not done so, I begged his pardon very politely. But as his - only acknowledgment of this courtesy consisted in an attempt to get his - knee in front of mine—we were mounting very slowly, the stairs being - cumbered with a multitude of servants, who stood on either hand—I - did tread on his toe, with a force and directness which made him cry out. - </p> - <p> - ‘What is the matter?’ Rambouillet asked, looking back hastily. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nothing, M. le Marquis,’ I answered, pressing on steadfastly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Sir,’ my young friend said again, in the same lisping voice, ‘you trod on - my toe.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I believe I did, sir,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have not yet apologised,’ he murmured gently in my ear. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, there you are wrong,’ I rejoined bluntly, ‘for it is always my habit - to apologise first and tread afterwards.’ - </p> - <p> - He smiled as at a pleasant joke; and I am bound to say that his bearing - was so admirable that if he had been my son I could have hugged him. - ‘Good!’ he answered. ‘No doubt your sword is as sharp as your wits, sir. I - see,’ he continued, glancing naively at my old scabbard—he was - himself the very gem of a courtier, a slender youth with a pink-and-white - complexion, a dark line for a moustache, and a pearl-drop in his ear—‘it - is longing to be out. Perhaps you will take a turn in the tennis-court - to-morrow?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘With pleasure, sir,’ I answered, ‘if you have a father, or your elder - brother is grown up.’ - </p> - <p> - What answer he would have made to this gibe I do not know, for at that - moment we reached the door of the ante-chamber; and this being narrow, and - a sentry in the grey uniform of the Swiss Guard compelling all to enter in - single file, my young friend was forced to fall back, leaving me free to - enter alone, and admire at my leisure a scene at once brilliant and - sombre. - </p> - <p> - The Court being in mourning for the Queen-mother, black predominated in - the dresses of those present, and set off very finely the gleaming jewels - and gemmed sword-hilts which were worn by the more important personages. - The room was spacious and lofty, hung with arras, and lit by candles - burning in silver sconces; it rang as we entered with the shrill screaming - of a parrot, which was being teased by a group occupying the farther of - the two hearths. Near them play was going on at one table, and primero at - a second. In a corner were three or four ladies, in a circle about a - red-faced, plebeian-looking man, who was playing at forfeits with one of - their number; while the middle of the room seemed dominated by a - middle-sized man with a peculiarly inflamed and passionate countenance, - who, seated on a table, was inveighing against someone or something in the - most violent terms, his language being interlarded with all kinds of - strange and forcible oaths. Two or three gentlemen, who had the air of - being his followers, stood about him, listening between submission and - embarrassment; while beside the nearer fireplace, but at some distance - from him, lounged a nobleman, very richly dressed, and wearing on his - breast the Cross of the Holy Ghost; who seemed to be the object of his - invective, but affecting to ignore it was engaged in conversation with a - companion. A bystander muttering that Crillon had been drinking, I - discovered with immense surprise that the declaimer on the table was that - famous soldier; and I was still looking at him in wonder—for I had - been accustomed all my life to associate courage with modesty—when, - the door of the chamber suddenly opening, a general movement in that - direction took place. Crillon, disregarding all precedency, sprang from - his table and hurried first to the threshold. The Baron de Biron, on the - other hand—for the gentleman by the fire was no other—waited, - in apparent ignorance of the slight which was being put upon him, until M. - de Rambouillet came up; then he went forward with him. Keeping close to my - patron’s elbow, I entered the chamber immediately behind him. - </p> - <p> - Crillon had already seized upon the king, and, when we entered, was - stating his grievance is a voice not much lower than that which he had - used outside. M. de Biron, seeing this, parted from the marquis, and, - going aside with his former companion, sat down on a trunk against the - wall; while Rambouillet, followed by myself and three or four gentlemen of - his train, advanced to the king, who was standing near the alcove. His - Majesty seeing him, and thankful, I think, for the excuse, waved Crillon - off. ‘Tut, tut! You told me all that this morning,’ he said - good-naturedly. ‘And here is Rambouillet, who has, I hope, something fresh - to tell. Let him speak to me. Sanctus! Don’t look at me as if you would - run me through, man. Go and quarrel with someone of your own size.’ - </p> - <p> - Crillon at this retired grumbling, and Henry, who had just risen from - primero with the Duke of Nevers, nodded to Rambouillet. ‘Well, my friend, - anything fresh?’ he cried. He was more at his ease and looked more - cheerful than at our former interview; yet still care and suspicion lurked - about his peevish mouth, and in the hollows under his gloomy eyes. ‘A new - guest, a new face, or a new game—which have you brought?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘In a sense, sire, a new face,’ the marquis answered, bowing, and standing - somewhat aside that I might have place. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, I cannot say much for the pretty baggage,’ quoth the king quickly. - And amid a general titter he extended his hand to me. ‘I’ll be sworn, - though,’ he continued, as I rose from my knee, ‘that you want something, - my friend?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, sire,’ I answered, holding up my head boldly—for Crillon’s - behaviour had been a further lesson to me—‘I have, by your leave, - the advantage. For your Majesty has supplied me with a new jest. I see - many new faces round me, and I have need only of a new game. If your - Majesty would be pleased to grant me—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘There! Said I not so?’ cried the king, raising his hand with a laugh. ‘He - does want something. But he seems not undeserving. What does he pray, - Rambouillet?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A small command,’ M. de Rambouillet answered, readily playing his part. - ‘And your Majesty would oblige me if you could grant the Sieur de Marsac’s - petition. I will answer for it he is a man of experience.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Chut! A small command?’ Henry ejaculated, sitting down suddenly in - apparent ill-humour. ‘It is what everyone wants—when they do not - want big ones. Still, I suppose,’ he continued, taking up a comfit-box, - which lay beside him, and opening it, ‘if you do not get what you want for - him you will sulk like the rest, my friend.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Your Majesty has never had cause to complain of me,’ quoth the Marquis, - forgetting his role, or too proud to play it. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut, tut, tut! Take it, and trouble me no more,’ the king rejoined. - ‘Will pay for twenty men do for him? Very well then. There, M. de Marsac,’ - he continued, nodding at me and yawning, ‘your request is granted. You - will find some other pretty baggages over there. Go to them. And now, - Rambouillet,’ he went on, resuming his spirits as he turned to matters of - more importance, ‘here is a new sweetmeat Zamet has sent me. I have made - Zizi sick with it. Will you try it? It is flavoured with white - mulberries.’ - </p> - <p> - Thus dismissed, I fell back; and stood for a moment, at a loss whither to - turn, in the absence of either friends or acquaintances. His Majesty, it - is true, had bidden me go to certain pretty baggages, meaning, apparently, - five ladies who were seated at the farther end of the room, diverting - themselves with as many cavaliers; but the compactness of this party, the - beauty of the ladies, and the merry peals of laughter which proceeded from - them, telling of a wit and vivacity beyond the ordinary, sapped the - resolution which had borne me well hitherto. I felt that to attack such a - phalanx, even with a king’s good will, was beyond the daring of a Crillon, - and I looked round to see whether I could not amuse myself in some more - modest fashion. - </p> - <p> - The material was not lacking. Crillon, still mouthing out his anger, - strode up and down in front of the trunk on which M. de Biron was seated; - but the latter was, or affected to be, asleep. ‘Crillon is for ever going - into rages now,’ a courtier beside me whispered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ his fellow answered, with a shrug of the shoulder; ‘it is a pity - there is no one to tame him. But he has such a long reach, morbleu!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is not that so much as the fellow’s fury,’ the first speaker rejoined - under his breath. ‘He fights like a mad thing; fencing is no use against - him.’ - </p> - <p> - The other nodded. For a moment the wild idea of winning renown by taming - M. de Crillon occurred to me as I stood alone in the middle of the floor; - but it had not more than passed through my brain when I felt my elbow - touched, and turned to find the young gentleman whom I had encountered on - the stairs standing by my side. - </p> - <p> - ‘Sir,’ he lisped, in the same small voice, ‘I think you trod on my toe a - while ago?’ - </p> - <p> - I stared at him, wondering what he meant by this absurd repetition. ‘Well, - sir,’ I answered drily, ‘and if I did?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Perhaps,’ he said, stroking his chin with his jewelled fingers, ‘pending - our meeting to-morrow, you would allow me to consider it as a kind of - introduction?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If it please you,’ I answered, bowing stiffly, and wondering what he - would be at. - </p> - <p> - ‘Thank you,’ he answered. ‘It does please me, under the circumstances; for - there is a lady here who desires a word with you. I took up her challenge. - Will you follow me?’ - </p> - <p> - He bowed, and turned in his languid fashion. I, turning too, saw, with - secret dismay, that the five ladies, referred to above, were all now - gazing at me, as expecting my approach; and this with such sportive - glances as told only too certainly of some plot already in progress or - some trick to be presently played me. Yet I could not see that I had any - choice save to obey, and, following my leader with as much dignity as I - could compass, I presently found myself bowing before the lady who sat - nearest, and who seemed to be the leader of these nymphs. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, sir,’ she said, eyeing me curiously, yet with a merry face, ‘I do - not need you; I do not look so high!’ - </p> - <p> - Turning in confusion to the next, I was surprised to see before me the - lady whose lodging I had invaded in my search for Mademoiselle de la Vire—she, - I mean, who, having picked up the velvet; knot, had dropped it so - providentially where Simon Fleix found it. She looked at me blushing and - laughing, and the young gentleman, who had done her errand, presenting me - by name, she asked me, while the others listened, whether I had found my - mistress. - </p> - <p> - Before I could answer, the lady to whom I had first addressed myself - interposed. ‘Stop, sir!’ she cried. What is this—a tale, a jest, a - game, or a forfeit?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘An adventure, madam,’ I answered, bowing low. - </p> - <p> - ‘Of gallantry, I’ll be bound,’ she exclaimed. ‘Fie, Madame de Bruhl, and - you but six months married!’ - </p> - <p> - Madame de Bruhl protested, laughing, that she had no more to do with it - than Mercury. ‘At the worst,’ she said, ‘I carried the POULETS! But I can - assure you, duchess, this gentleman should be able to tell us a very fine - story, if he would.’ - </p> - <p> - The duchess and all the other ladies clapping their hands at this, and - crying out that the story must and should be told, I found myself in a - prodigious quandary; and one wherein my wits derived as little assistance - as possible from the bright eyes and saucy looks which environed me. - Moreover, the commotion attracting other listeners, I found my position, - while I tried to extricate myself, growing each moment worse, so that I - began to fear that as I had little imagination I should perforce have to - tell the truth. The mere thought of this threw me into a cold - perspiration, lest I should let slip something of consequence, and prove - myself unworthy of the trust which M. de Rosny had reposed in me. - </p> - <p> - At the moment when, despairing of extricating myself, I was stooping over - Madame de Bruhl begging her to assist me, I heard, amid the babel of - laughter and raillery which surrounded me—certain of the courtiers - having already formed hands in a circle and sworn I should not depart - without satisfying the ladies—a voice which struck a chord in my - memory. I turned to see who the speaker was, and encountered no other than - M. de Bruhl himself; who, with a flushed and angry face, was listening to - the explanation which a friend was pouring into his ear. Standing at the - moment with my knee on Madame de Bruhl’s stool, and remembering very well - the meeting on the stairs, I conceived in a flash that the man was - jealous; but whether he had yet heard my name, or had any clew to link me - with the person who had rescued Mademoiselle de la Vire from his clutches, - I could not tell. Nevertheless his presence led my thoughts into a new - channel. The determination to punish him began to take form in my mind, - and very quickly I regained my composure. Still I was for giving him one - chance. Accordingly I stooped once more to Madame de Bruhl’s ear, and - begged her to spare me the embarrassment of telling my tale. But then, - finding her pitiless, as I expected, and the rest of the company growing - more and more insistent, I hardened my heart to go through with the - fantastic notion which had occurred to me. - </p> - <p> - Indicating by a gesture that I was prepared to obey, and the duchess - crying for a hearing, this was presently obtained, the sudden silence - adding the king himself to my audience. ‘What is it?’ he asked, coming up - effusively, with a lap-dog in his arms. ‘A new scandal, eh?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, sire, a new tale-teller,’ the duchess answered pertly. ‘If your - Majesty will sit, we shall hear him the sooner.’ - </p> - <p> - He pinched her ear and sat down in the chair which a page presented. - ‘What! is it Rambouillet’s GRISON again?’ he said with some surprise. - ‘Well, fire away, man. But who brought you forward as a Rabelais?’ - </p> - <p> - There was a general cry of ‘Madame de Bruhl!’ whereat that lady shook her - fair hair, about her face, and cried out for someone to bring her a mask. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ha, I see!’ said the king drily, looking pointedly at M. de Bruhl, who - was as black as thunder. ‘But go on, man.’ - </p> - <p> - The king’s advent, by affording me a brief respite, had enabled me to - collect my thoughts, and, disregarding the ribald interruptions, which at - first were frequent, I began as follows: ‘I am no Rabelais, sire,’ I said, - ‘but droll things happen to the most unlikely. Once upon a time it was the - fortune of a certain swain, whom I will call Dromio, to arrive in a town - not a hundred miles from Blois, having in his company a nymph of great - beauty, who had been entrusted to his care by her parents. He had not more - than lodged her in his apartments, however, before she was decoyed away by - a trick, and borne off against her will by a young gallant, who had seen - her and been smitten by her charms. Dromio, returning, and finding his - mistress gone, gave way to the most poignant grief. He ran up and down the - city, seeking her in every place, and filling all places with his - lamentations; but for a time in vain, until chance led him to a certain - street, where, in an almost incredible manner, he found a clew to her by - discovering underfoot a knot of velvet, bearing Phyllida’s name wrought on - it in delicate needlework, with the words, “A moi!”’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Sanctus!’ cried the king, amid a general murmur of surprise, ‘that is - well devised! Proceed, sir. Go on like that, and we will make your twenty - men twenty-five.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Dromio,’ I continued, ‘at sight of this trifle experienced the most - diverse emotions, for while he possessed in it a clew to his mistress’s - fate, he had still to use it so as to discover the place whither she had - been hurried. It occurred to him at last to begin his search with the - house before which the knot had lain. Ascending accordingly to the - second-floor, he found there a fair lady reclining on a couch, who started - up in affright at his appearance. He hastened to reassure her, and to - explain the purpose of his coming, and learned after a conversation with - which I will not trouble your Majesty, though it was sufficiently - diverting, that the lady had found the velvet knot in another part of the - town, and had herself dropped it again in front of her own house.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Pourquoi?’ the king asked, interrupting me. - </p> - <p> - ‘The swain, sire,’ I answered, ‘was too much taken up with his own - troubles to bear that in mind, even if he learned it. But this delicacy - did not save him from misconception, for as he descended from the lady’s - apartment he met her husband on the stairs.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Good!’ the king exclaimed, rubbing his hands in glee. ‘The husband!’ And - under cover of the gibe and the courtly laugh which followed it M. de - Bruhl’s start of surprise passed unnoticed save by me. - </p> - <p> - ‘The husband,’ I resumed, ‘seeing a stranger descending his staircase, was - for stopping him and learning the reason of his presence; But Dromio, - whose mind was with Phyllida, refused to stop, and, evading his questions, - hurried to the part of the town where the lady had told him she found the - velvet knot. Here, sire, at the corner of a lane running between - garden-walls, he found a great house, barred and gloomy, and well adapted - to the abductor’s purpose. Moreover, scanning it on every side, he - presently discovered, tied about the bars of an upper window, a knot of - white linen, the very counterpart of that velvet one which he bore in his - breast. Thus he knew that the nymph was imprisoned in that room!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I will make it twenty-five, as I am a good Churchman!’ his Majesty - exclaimed, dropping the little dog he was nursing into the duchess’s lap, - and taking out his comfit-box. ‘Rambouillet,’ he added languidly, ‘your - friend is a treasure!’ - </p> - <p> - I bowed my acknowledgments, and took occasion as I did so to step a pace - aside, so as to command a view of Madame de Bruhl, as well as her husband. - Hitherto madame, willing to be accounted a part in so pretty a romance, - and ready enough also, unless I was mistaken, to cause her husband a - little mild jealousy, had listened to the story with a certain sly - demureness. But this I foresaw would not last long; and I felt something - like compunction as the moment for striking the blow approached. But I had - now no choice. ‘The best is yet to come, sire,’ I went on, ‘as I think you - will acknowledge in a moment. Dromio, though he had discovered his - mistress, was still in the depths of despair. He wandered round and round - the house, seeking ingress and finding none, until at length, sunset - approaching, and darkness redoubling his fears for the nymph, fortune took - pity on him. As he stood in front of the house he saw the abductor come - out, lighted by two servants. Judge of his surprise, sire,’ I continued, - looking round and speaking slowly, to give full effect to my words, ‘when - he recognised in him no other than the husband of the lady who, by picking - up and again dropping the velvet knot, had contributed so much to the - success of his search!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ha! these husbands!’ cried the king. And slapping his knee in an ecstasy - at his own acuteness, he laughed in his seat till he rolled again. ‘These - husbands! Did I not say so?’ - </p> - <p> - The whole Court gave way to like applause, and clapped their hands as - well, so that few save those who stood nearest took notice of Madame de - Bruhl’s faint cry, and still fewer understood why she rose up suddenly - from her stool and stood gazing at her husband with burning cheeks and - clenched hands. She took no heed of me, much less of the laughing crowd - round her, but looked only at him with her soul in her eyes. He, after - uttering one hoarse curse, seemed to have no thought for any but me. To - have the knowledge that his own wife had baulked him brought home to him - in this mocking fashion, to find how little a thing had tripped him that - day, to learn how blindly he had played into the hands of fate, above all - to be exposed at once to his wife’s resentment and the ridicule of the - Court—for he could not be sure that I should not the next moment - disclose his name—all so wrought on him that for a moment I thought - he would strike me in the presence. - </p> - <p> - His rage, indeed, did what I had not meant to do. For the king, catching - sight of his face, and remembering that Madame de Bruhl had elicited the - story, screamed suddenly, ‘Haro!’ and pointed ruthlessly at him with his - finger. After that I had no need to speak, the story leaping from eye to - eye, and every eye settling on Bruhl, who sought in vain to compose his - features. Madame, who surpassed him, as women commonly do surpass men, in - self-control, was the first to recover herself, and sitting down as - quickly as she had risen, confronted alike her husband and her rivals with - a pale smile. - </p> - <p> - For a moment curiosity and excitement kept all breathless, the eye alone - busy. Then the king laughed mischievously. ‘Come, M. de Bruhl,’ he cried, - ‘perhaps you will finish the tale for us?’ And he threw himself back in - his chair, a sneer on his lips. - </p> - <p> - ‘Or why not Madame de Bruhl?’ said the duchess, with her head on one side - and her eyes glittering over her fan. ‘Madame would, I am sure, tell it so - well.’ - </p> - <p> - But madame only shook her head, smiling always that forced smile. For - Bruhl himself, glaring from face to face like a bull about to charge, I - have never seen a man more out of countenance, or more completely brought - to bay. His discomposure, exposed as he was to the ridicule of all - present, was such that the presence in which he stood scarcely hindered - him from some violent attack; and his eyes, which had wandered from me at - the king’s word, presently returning to me again, he so far forgot himself - as to raise his hand furiously, uttering at the same time a savage oath. - </p> - <p> - The king cried out angrily, ‘Have a care, sir!’ But Bruhl only heeded this - so far as to thrust aside those who stood round him and push his way - hurriedly through the circle. - </p> - <p> - ‘Arnidieu!’ cried the king, when he was gone. ‘This is fine conduct! I - have half a mind to send after him and have him put where his hot blood - would cool a little. Or—’ - </p> - <p> - He stopped abruptly, his eyes resting on me. The relative positions of - Bruhl and myself as the agents of Rosny and Turenne occurred to him for - the first time, I think, and suggested the idea, perhaps, that I had laid - a trap for him, and that he had fallen into it. At any rate his face grew - darker and darker, and at last, ‘A nice kettle of fish this is you have - prepared for us, sir!’ he muttered, gazing at me gloomily. - </p> - <p> - The sudden change in his humour took even courtiers by surprise. Faces a - moment before broad with smiles grew long again. The less important - personages looked uncomfortably at one another, and with one accord - frowned on me. ‘If your Majesty would please to hear the end of the story - at another time?’ I suggested humbly, beginning to wish with all my heart - that I had never said a word. - </p> - <p> - ‘Chut!’ he answered, rising, his face still betraying his perturbation, - ‘Well, be it so. For the present you may go, sir. Duchess, give me Zizi, - and come to my closet. I want you to see my puppies. Retz, my good friend, - do you come too. I have something to say to you. Gentlemen, you need not - wait. It is likely I shall be late.’ - </p> - <p> - And, with the utmost abruptness, he broke up the circle. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVII. THE JACOBIN MONK. - </h2> - <p> - Had I needed any reminder of the uncertainty of Court favour, or an - instance whence I might learn the lesson of modesty, and so stand in less - danger of presuming on my new and precarious prosperity, I had it in this - episode, and in the demeanour of the company round me. On the circle - breaking up in confusion, I found myself the centre of general regard, but - regard of so dubious a character, the persons who would have been the - first to compliment me had the king retired earlier, standing farthest - aloof now, that I felt myself rather insulted than honoured by it. One or - two, indeed, of the more cautious spirits did approach me; but it was with - the air of men providing against a danger particularly remote, their - half-hearted speeches serving only to fix them in my memory as belonging - to a class, especially abhorrent to me—the class, I mean, of those - who would run at once with the hare and the hounds. - </p> - <p> - I was rejoiced to find that on one person, and that the one whose - disposition towards me was, next to the king’s, of first importance, this - episode had produced a different impression, Feeling, as I made for the - door, a touch on my arm, I turned to find M. de Rambouillet at my elbow, - regarding me with a glance of mingled esteem and amusement; in fine, with - a very different look from that which had been my welcome earlier in the - evening. I was driven to suppose that he was too great a man, or too sure - of his favour with the king, to be swayed by the petty motives which - actuated the Court generally, for he laid his hand familiarly on my - shoulder, and walked on beside me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well my friend,’ he said,’ you have distinguished yourself finely! I do - not know that I ever remember a pretty woman making more stir in one - evening. But if you are wise you will not go home alone to-night.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I have my sword, M. le Marquis,’ I answered, somewhat proudly. ‘Which - will avail you little against a knife in the back!’ he retorted drily. - ‘What attendance have you?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘My equerry, Simon Fleix, is on the stairs.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Good, so far, but not enough,’ he replied, as we reached the head of the - staircase. ‘You had better come home with me now, and two or three of my - fellows shall go on to your lodging with you. Do you know, my friend,’ he - continued, looking at me keenly, ‘you are either a very clever or a very - foolish man?’ - </p> - <p> - I made answer modestly. ‘Neither the one, I fear, nor the other, I hope - sir,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, you have done a very pertinent thing,’ he replied, ‘for good or - evil. You have let the enemy know what he has to expect, and he is not - one, I warn you, to be despised. But whether you have been very wise or - very foolish in declaring open war remains to be seen.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A week will show,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - He turned and looked at me. ‘You take it coolly,’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘I have been knocking about the world for forty years, marquis,’ I - rejoined. - </p> - <p> - He muttered something about Rosny having a good eye, and then stopped to - adjust his cloak. We were by this time in the street. Making me go hand in - hand with him, he requested the other gentlemen to draw their swords; and - the servants being likewise armed and numbering half a score or more, with - pikes and torches, we made up a very formidable party, and caused, I - think, more alarm as we passed through the streets to Rambouillet’s - lodging than we had any reason to feel. Not that we had it all to - ourselves, for the attendance at Court that evening being large, and the - circle breaking up as I have described more abruptly than usual, the - vicinity of the castle was in a ferment, and the streets leading from it - were alive with the lights and laughter of parties similar to our own. - </p> - <p> - At the door of the marquis’s lodging I prepared to take leave of him with - many expressions of gratitude, but he would have me enter and sit down - with him to a light refection, which it was his habit to take before - retiring. Two of his gentlemen sat down with us, and a valet, who was in - his confidence, waiting on us, we made very merry over the scene in the - presence. I learned that M. de Bruhl was far from popular at Court; but - being known to possess some kind of hold over the king, and enjoying - besides a great reputation for recklessness and skill with the sword, he - had played a high part for a length of time, and attached to himself, - especially since the death of Guise, a considerable number of followers. - </p> - <p> - ‘The truth is,’ one of the marquis’s gentlemen, who was a little heated - with wine, observed, ‘there is nothing at this moment which a bold and - unscrupulous man may not win in France!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nor a bold and Christian gentleman for France!’ replied M. de Rambouillet - with, some asperity. ‘By the way,’ he continued, turning abruptly to the - servant, ‘where is M. Francois?’ - </p> - <p> - The valet answered that he had not returned with us from the castle. The - Marquis expressed himself annoyed at this, and I gathered, firstly, that - the missing man was his near kinsman, and, secondly, that he was also the - young spark who had been so forward to quarrel with me earlier in the - evening. Determining to refer the matter, should it become pressing, to - Rambouillet for adjustment, I took leave of him, and attended by two of - his servants, whom he kindly transferred to my service for the present, I - started towards my lodging a little before midnight. - </p> - <p> - The moon had risen while we were at supper, and its light, which whitened - the gables on one side of the street, diffused a glimmer below sufficient - to enable us to avoid the kennel. Seeing this, I bade the men put out our - torch. Frost had set in, and a keen wind was blowing, so that we were glad - to hurry on at a good pace; and the streets being quite deserted at this - late hour, or haunted only by those who had come to dread the town - marshal, we met no one and saw no lights. I fell to thinking, for my part, - of the evening I had spent searching Blois for Mademoiselle, and of the - difference between then and now. Nor did I fail while on this track to - retrace it still farther to the evening of our arrival at my mother’s; - whence, as a source, such kindly and gentle thoughts welled up in my mind - as were natural, and the unfailing affection of that gracious woman - required. These, taking the place for the moment of the anxious - calculations and stern purposes which had of late engrossed me, were only - ousted by something which, happening under my eyes, brought me violently - and abruptly to myself. - </p> - <p> - This was the sudden appearance of three men, who issued one by one from an - alley a score of yards in front of us, and after pausing a second to look - back the way they had come, flitted on in single file along the street, - disappearing, as far as the darkness permitted me to judge, round a second - corner. I by no means liked their appearance, and, as a scream and the - clash of arms rang out next moment from the direction in which they had - gone, I cried lustily to Simon Fleix to follow, and ran on, believing from - the rascals’ movements that they were after no good, but that rather some - honest man was like to be sore beset. - </p> - <p> - On reaching the lane down which they had plunged, however, I paused a - moment, considering not so much its black-ness, which was intense, the - eaves nearly meeting overhead, as the small chance I had of distinguishing - between attackers and attacked. But Simon and the men overtaking me, and - the sounds of a sharp tussle still continuing, I decided to venture, and - plunged into the alley, my left arm well advanced, with the skirt of my - cloak thrown over it, and my sword drawn back. I shouted as I ran, - thinking that the knaves might desist on hearing me; and this was what - happened, for as I arrived on the scene of action—the farther end of - the alley—two men took to their heels, while of two who remained, - one lay at length in the kennel, and another rose slowly from his knees. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are just in time, sir,’ the latter said, breathing hard, but speaking - with a preciseness which sounded familiar. ‘I am obliged to you, sir, - whoever you are. The villains had got me down, and in a few minutes more - would have made my mother childless. By the way, you have no light, have - you?’ he continued, lisping like a woman. - </p> - <p> - One of M. de Rambouillet’s men, who had by this time come up, cried out - that it was Monsieur Francois. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, blockhead!’ the young gentleman answered with the utmost coolness. - ‘But I asked for a light, not for my name. - </p> - <p> - ‘I trust you are not hurt, sir?’ I said, putting up my sword. - </p> - <p> - ‘Scratched only,’ he answered, betraying no surprise on learning who it - was had come up so opportunely; as he no doubt did learn from my voice, - for he continued with a bow, a slight price to pay for the knowledge that - M. de Marsac is as forward on the field as on the stairs.’ - </p> - <p> - I bowed my acknowledgments. - </p> - <p> - ‘This fellow,’ I said, ‘is he much hurt?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut! I thought I had saved the marshal all trouble, M. Francois - replied. ‘Is he not dead, Gil?’ - </p> - <p> - The poor wretch made answer for himself, crying out piteously, and in a - choking voice, for a priest to shrive him. At that moment Simon Fleix - returned with our torch, which he had lighted at the nearest - cross-streets, where there was a brazier, and we saw by this light that - the man was coughing up blood, and might live perhaps half an hour. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mordieu! That comes of thrusting too high!’ M. Francois muttered, - regretfully. An inch lower, and there would have been none of this - trouble! I suppose somebody must fetch one. Gil,’ he continued, ‘run, man, - to the sacristy in the Rue St. Denys, and get a Father. Or—stay! - Help to lift him under the lee of the wall there. The wind cuts like a - knife here.’ - </p> - <p> - The street being on the slope of the hill, the lower part of the house - nearest us stood a few feet from the ground, on wooden piles, and the - space underneath it, being enclosed at the back and sides, was used as a - cart-house. The servants moved the dying man into this rude shelter, and I - accompanied them, being unwilling to leave the young gentleman alone. Not - wishing, however, to seem to interfere, I walked to the farther end, and - sat down on the shaft of a cart, whence I idly admired the strange aspect - of the group I had left, as the glare of the torch brought now one and now - another into prominence, and sometimes shone on M. Francois’ jewelled - fingers toying with his tiny moustache, and sometimes on the writhing - features of the man at his feet. - </p> - <p> - On a sudden, and before Gil had started on his errand, I saw there was a - priest among them. I had not seen him enter, nor had I any idea whence he - came. My first impression was only that here was a priest, and that he was - looking at me—not at the man craving his assistance on the floor, or - at those who stood round him, but at me, who sat away in the shadow beyond - the ring of light! - </p> - <p> - This was surprising; but a second glance explained it, for then I saw that - he was the Jacobin monk who had haunted my mother’s dying hours. And, - amazed as much at this strange RENCONTRE as at the man’s boldness, I - sprang up and strode forwards, forgetting, in an impulse of righteous - anger, the office he came to do. And this the more as his face, still - turned to me, seemed instinct to my eyes with triumphant malice. As I - moved towards him, however, with a fierce exclamation on my lips, he - suddenly dropped his eyes and knelt. Immediately M. Francois cried ‘Hush!’ - and the men turned to me with scandalised faces. I fell back. Yet even - then, whispering on his knees by the dying man, the knave was thinking, I - felt sure, of me, glorying at once in his immunity and the power it gave - him to tantalise me without fear. - </p> - <p> - I determined, whatever the result, to intercept him when all was over; and - on the man dying a few minutes later, I walked resolutely to the open side - of the shed, thinking it likely he might try to slip away as mysteriously - as he had come. He stood a moment speaking to M. Francois, however, and - then, accompanied by him, advanced boldly to meet me, a lean smile on his - face. - </p> - <p> - ‘Father Antoine,’ M. d’Agen said politely,’ tells me that he knows you, M. - de Marsac, and desires to speak to you, MAL-A-PROPOS as is the occasion.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And I to him,’ I answered, trembling with rage, and only restraining by - an effort the impulse which would have had me dash my hand in the priest’s - pale, smirking face. ‘I have waited long for this moment,’ I continued, - eyeing him steadily, as M. Francois withdrew out of hearing, ‘and had you - tried to avoid me, I would have dragged you back, though all your tribe - were here to protect you.’ - </p> - <p> - His presence so maddened me that I scarcely knew what I said. I felt my - breath come quickly, I felt the blood surge to my head, and it was with - difficulty I restrained myself when he answered with well-affected - sanctity, ‘Like mother, like son, I fear, sir. Huguenots both.’ - </p> - <p> - I choked with rage. What!’ I said, ‘you dare to threaten me as you - threatened my mother? Fool! know that only to-day for the purpose of - discovering and punishing you I took the rooms in which my mother died.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I know it,’ he answered quietly. And then in a second, as by magic, he - altered his demeanour completely, raising his head and looking me in the - face. ‘That, and so much besides, I know,’ he continued, giving me, to my - astonishment, frown for frown, ‘that if you will listen to me for a - moment, M. de Marsac, and listen quietly, I will convince you that the - folly is not on my side.’ - </p> - <p> - Amazed at his new manner, in which there was none of the madness that had - marked him at our first meeting, but a strange air of authority, unlike - anything I had associated with him before, I signed to him to proceed. - </p> - <p> - ‘You think that I am in your power?’ he said, smiling. - </p> - <p> - ‘I think,’ I retorted swiftly, ‘that, escaping me now, you will have at - your heels henceforth a worse enemy than even your own sins.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Just so,’ he answered, nodding. ‘Well, I am going to show you that the - reverse is the case; and that you are as completely in my hands, to spare - or to break, as this straw. In the first place, you are here in Blois, a - Huguenot!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Chut!’ I exclaimed contemptuously, affecting a confidence I was far from - feeling. ‘A little while back that might have availed you. But we are in - Blois, not Paris. It is not far to the Loire, and you have to deal with a - man now, not with a woman. It is you who have cause to tremble, not I.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You think to be protected,’ he answered with a sour smile, ‘even on this - side of the Loire, I see. But one word to the Pope’s Legate, or to the - Duke of Nevers, and you would see the inside of a dungeon, if not worse. - For the king—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘King or no king!’ I answered, interrupting him with more assurance than I - felt, seeing that I remembered only too well Henry’s remark that Rosny - must not look to him for protection, ‘I fear you not a whit! And that - reminds me. I have heard you talk treason—rank, black treason, - priest, as ever sent man to rope, and I will give you up. By heaven I - will!’ I cried, my rage increasing, as I discerned, more and more clearly, - the dangerous hold he had over me. ‘You have threatened me! One word, and - I will send you to the gallows!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Sh!’ he answered, indicating M. Francois by, a gesture of the hand. ‘For - your own sake, not mine. This is fine talking, but you have not yet heard - all I know. Would you like to hear how you have spent the last month? Two - days after Christmas, M. de Marsac, you left Chize with a young lady—I - can give you her name, if you please. Four days afterwards you reached - Blois, and took her to your mother’s lodging. Next morning she left you - for M. de Bruhl. Two days later you tracked her to a house in the Ruelle - d’Arcy, and freed her, but lost her in the moment of victory. Then you - stayed in Blois until your mother’s death, going a day or two later to M. - de Rosny’s house by Mantes, where mademoiselle still is. Yesterday you - arrived in Blois with M. de Rosny; you went to his lodging; you—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Proceed, I muttered, leaning forward. Under cover of my cloak I drew my - dagger half-way from its sheath. ‘Proceed, sir, I pray,’ I repeated with - dry lips. - </p> - <p> - ‘You slept there,’ he continued, holding his ground, but shuddering - slightly, either from cold or because he perceived my movement and read my - design in my eyes. - </p> - <p> - ‘This morning you remained here in attendance on M. de Rambouillet.’ - </p> - <p> - For the moment I breathed freely again, perceiving that though he knew - much, the one thing on which M. de Rosny’s design turned had escaped him. - The secret interview with the king, which compromised alike Henry himself - and M. de Rambouillet, had apparently passed unnoticed and unsuspected. - With a sigh of intense relief I slid back the dagger, which I had fully - made up my mind to use had he known all, and drew my cloak round me with a - shrug of feigned indifference. I sweated to think what he did know, but - our interview with the king having escaped him, I breathed again. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, sir,’ I said curtly, ‘I have listened. And now, what is the purpose - of all this?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘My purpose?’ he answered, his eyes glittering. ‘To show you that you are - in my power. You are the agent of M. de Rosny. I, the agent, however - humble, of the Holy Catholic League. Of your movements I know all. What do - you know of mine?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Knowledge,’ I made grim answer, ‘is not everything, sir priest.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is more than it was,’ he said, smiling his thin-lipped smile. ‘It is - going to be more than it is. And I know much—about you, M. de - Marsac.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You know too much!’ I retorted, feeling his covert threats close round me - like the folds of some great serpent. ‘But you are imprudent, I think. - Will you tell me what is to prevent me striking you through where you - stand, and ridding myself at a blow of so much knowledge?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The presence of three men, M. de Marsac,’ he answered lightly, waving his - hand towards M. Francois and the others, ‘every one of whom would give you - up to justice. You forget that you are north of the Loire, and that - priests are not to be massacred here with impunity, as in your lawless - south-country. However, enough. The night is cold, and M. d’Agen grows - suspicious as well as impatient. We have, perhaps, spoken too long - already. Permit me—he bowed and drew back a step—‘to resume - this discussion to-morrow.’ - </p> - <p> - Despite his politeness and the hollow civility with which he thus sought; - to close the interview, the light of triumph which shone in his eyes, as - the glare of the torch fell athwart them, no less than the assured tone of - his voice, told me clearly that he knew his power. He seemed, indeed, - transformed: no longer a slinking, peaceful clerk, preying on a woman’s - fears, but a bold and crafty schemer, skilled and unscrupulous, possessed - of hidden knowledge and hidden resources; the personification of evil - intellect. For a moment, knowing all I knew, and particularly the - responsibilities which lay before me, and the interests committed to my - hands, I quailed, confessing myself unequal to him. I forgot the righteous - vengeance I owed him; I cried out helplessly against the ill-fortune which - had brought him across my path. I saw myself enmeshed and fettered beyond - hope of escape, and by an effort only controlled the despair I felt. - </p> - <p> - ‘To-morrow?’ I muttered hoarsely. ‘At what time?’ - </p> - <p> - He shook his head with a cunning smile. ‘A thousand thanks, but I will - settle that myself!’ he answered. ‘Au revoir!’ and uttering a word of - leave-taking to M. Francois d’Agen, he blessed the two servants, and went - out into the night. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVIII. THE OFFER OF THE LEAGUE. - </h2> - <p> - When the last sound of his footsteps died away, I awoke as from an evil - dream, and becoming conscious of the presence of M. Francois and the - servants, recollected mechanically that I owed the former an apology for - my discourtesy in keeping him standing in the cold. I began to offer it; - but my distress and confusion of mind were such that in the middle of a - set phrase I broke off, and stood looking fixedly at him, my trouble so - plain that he asked me civilly if anything ailed me. - </p> - <p> - ‘No,’ I answered, turning from him impatiently; ‘nothing, nothing, sir. Or - tell me,’ I continued, with an abrupt change of mind, ‘who is that; who - has just left us?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Father Antoine, do you mean?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, Father Antoine, Father Judas, call him what you like,’ I rejoined - bitterly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then if you leave the choice to me,’ M. Francois answered with grave - politeness, ‘I would rather call him something more pleasant, M. de Marsac—James - or John, let us say. For there is little said here which does not come - back to him. If walls have ears, the walls of Blois are in his pay. But I - thought you knew him,’ he continued. ‘He is secretary, confidant, - chaplain, what you will, to Cardinal Retz, and one of those whom—in - your ear—greater men court and more powerful men lean on. If I had - to choose between them, I would rather cross M. de Crillon.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am obliged to you,’ I muttered, checked as much by his manner as his - words. - </p> - <p> - ‘Not at all,’ he answered more lightly. ‘Any information I have is at your - disposal.’ - </p> - <p> - However, I saw the imprudence of venturing farther, and hastened to take - leave of him, persuading him to allow one of M. de Rambouillet’s servants - to accompany him home. He said that he should call on me in the morning; - and forcing myself to answer him in a suitable manner, I saw him depart - one way, and myself, accompanied by Simon Fleix, went off another. My feet - were frozen with long standing—I think the corpse we left was scarce - colder—but my head was hot with feverish doubts and fears. The moon - had sunk and the streets were dark. Our torch had burned out, and we had - no light. But where my followers saw only blackness and vacancy, I saw an - evil smile and a lean visage fraught with menace and exultation. - </p> - <p> - For the more closely I directed my mind to the position in which I stood, - the graver it seemed. Pitted against Bruhl alone, amid strange - surroundings and in an atmosphere of Court intrigue, I had thought my task - sufficiently difficult and the disadvantages under which I laboured - sufficiently serious before this interview. Conscious of a certain - rustiness and a distaste for finesse, with resources so inferior to - Bruhl’s that even M. de Rosny’s liberality had not done much to make up - the difference, I had accepted the post offered me rather readily than - sanguinely; with joy, seeing that it held out the hope of high reward, but - with no certain expectation of success. Still, matched with a man of - violent and headstrong character, I had seen no reason to despair; nor any - why I might not arrange the secret meeting between the king and - mademoiselle with safety, and conduct to its end an intrigue simple and - unsuspected, and requiring for its execution rather courage and caution - than address or experience. - </p> - <p> - Now, however, I found that Bruhl was not my only or my most dangerous - antagonist. Another was in the field—or, to speak more correctly, - was waiting outside the arena, ready to snatch the prize when we should - have disabled one another, From a dream of Bruhl and myself as engaged in - a competition for the king’s favour, wherein neither could expose the - other nor appeal even in the last resort to the joint-enemies of his - Majesty and ourselves, I awoke to a very different state of things; I - awoke to find those enemies the masters of the situation, possessed of the - clue to our plans, and permitting them only as long as they seemed to - threaten no serious peril to themselves. - </p> - <p> - No discovery could be more mortifying or more fraught with terror. The - perspiration stood on my brow as I recalled the warning which M. de Rosny - had uttered against Cardinal Retz, or noted down the various points of - knowledge which were in Father Antoine’s possession. He knew every event - of the last month, with one exception, and could tell, I verily believed, - how many crowns I had in my pouch. Conceding this, and the secret sources - of information he must possess, what hope had I of keeping my future - movements from him? Mademoiselle’s arrival would be known to him before - she had well passed the gates; nor was it likely, or even possible, that I - should again succeed in reaching the king’s presence untraced and - unsuspected. En fin, I saw myself, equally with Bruhl, a puppet in this - man’s hands, my goings out and my comings in watched and reported to him, - his mercy the only bar between myself and destruction. At any moment I - might be arrested as a Huguenot, the enterprise in which I was engaged - ruined, and Mademoiselle de la Vire exposed to the violence of Bruhl or - the equally dangerous intrigues of the League. - </p> - <p> - Under these circumstances I fancied sleep impossible; but habit and - weariness are strong persuaders, and when I reached my lodging I slept - long and soundly, as became a man who had looked danger in the face more - than once. The morning light too brought an accession both of courage and - hope. I reflected on the misery of my condition at St. Jean d’Angely, - without friends or resources, and driven to herd with such a man as - Fresnoy. And telling myself that the gold crowns which M. de Rosny had - lavished upon me were not for nothing, nor the more precious friendship - with which he had honoured me a gift that called for no return, I rose - with new spirit and a countenance which threw Simon Fleix who had seen me - lie down the picture of despair—into the utmost astonishment. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have had good dreams,’ he said, eyeing me jealously and with a - disturbed air. - </p> - <p> - ‘I had a very evil one last night,’ I answered lightly, wondering a little - why he looked at me so, and why he seemed to resent my return to - hopefulness and courage. I might have followed this train of thought - further with advantage, since I possessed a clue to his state of mind; but - at that moment a summons at the door called him away to it, and he - presently ushered in M. d’Agen, who, saluting me with punctilious - politeness, had not said fifty words before he introduced the subject of - his toe—no longer, however, in a hostile spirit, but as the happy - medium which had led him to recognise the worth and sterling qualities—so - he was pleased to say—of his preserver. - </p> - <p> - I was delighted to find him in this frame of mind, and told him frankly - that the friendship with which his kinsman, M. de Rambouillet, honoured me - would prevent me giving him satisfaction save in the last resort. He - replied that the service I had done him was such as to render this - immaterial, unless I had myself cause of offence; which I was forward to - deny. - </p> - <p> - We were paying one another compliments after this fashion, while I - regarded him with the interest which the middle-aged bestow on the young - and gallant in whom they see their own youth and hopes mirrored, when the - door was again opened, and after a moment’s pause admitted, equally, I - think, to the disgust of M. Francois, and myself, the form of Father - Antoine. - </p> - <p> - Seldom have two men more diverse stood, I believe, in a room together; - seldom has any greater contrast been presented to a man’s eyes than that - opened to mine on this occasion. On the one side the gay young spark, with - his short cloak, his fine suit; of black-and-silver, his trim limbs and - jewelled hilt and chased comfit-box; on the other, the tall, stooping - monk, lean-jawed and bright-eyed, whose gown hung about him in coarse, - ungainly folds. And M. Francois’ sentiment on first seeing the other was - certainly dislike. Is spite of this, however, he bestowed a greeting on - the new-comer which evidenced a secret awe, and in other ways showed so - plain a desire to please, that I felt my fears of the priest return in - force. I reflected that the talents which in such a garb could win the - respect of M. Francois d’Agen—a brilliant star among the younger - courtiers, and one of a class much given to thinking scorn of their - fathers’ roughness—must be both great and formidable; and, so - considering, I received the monk with a distant courtesy which I had once - little thought to extend to him. I put aside for the moment the private - grudge I bore him with so much justice, and remembered only the burden - which lay on me in my contest with him. - </p> - <p> - I conjectured without difficulty that he chose to come at this time, when - M. Francois was with me, out of a cunning regard to his own safety; and I - was not surprised when M. Francois, beginning to make his adieux, Father - Antoine begged him to wait below, adding that he had something of - importance to communicate. He advanced his request in terms of politeness - bordering on humility; but I could clearly see that, in assenting to it, - M. d’Agen bowed to a will stronger than his own, and would, had he dared - to follow his own bent, have given a very different answer. As it was he - retired—nominally to give an order to his lackey—with a - species of impatient self-restraint which it was not difficult to - construe. - </p> - <p> - Left alone with me, and assured that we had no listeners, the monk was not - slow in coming to the point. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have thought over what I told you last night?’ he said brusquely, - dropping in a moment the suave manner which he had maintained in M. - Francois’s presence. - </p> - <p> - I replied coldly that I had. - </p> - <p> - ‘And you understand the position?’ he continued quickly, looking at me - from under his brows as he stood before me, with one clenched fist on the - table. ‘Or shall I tell you more? Shall I tell you how poor and despised - you were some weeks ago, M. de Marsac—you who now go in velvet, and - have three men at your back? Or whose gold it is has brought you here, and - made you, this? Chut! Do not let us trifle. You are here as the secret - agent of the King of Navarre. It is my business to learn your plans and - his intentions, and I propose to do so.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘I am prepared to buy them,’ he answered; and his eyes sparkled as he - spoke, with a greed which set me yet more on my guard. - </p> - <p> - ‘For whom?’ I asked. Having made up my mind that I must use the same - weapons as my adversary, I reflected that to express indignation, such as - might become a young man new to the world, could, help me not a whit. ‘For - whom?’ I repeated, seeing that he hesitated. - </p> - <p> - ‘That is my business,’ he replied slowly. - </p> - <p> - ‘You want to know too much and tell too little,’ I retorted, yawning. - </p> - <p> - ‘And you are playing with me,’ he cried, looking at me suddenly, with so - piercing a gaze and so dark a countenance that I checked a shudder with - difficulty. ‘So much the worse for you, so much the worse for you!’ he - continued fiercely. ‘I am here to buy the information you hold, but if you - will not sell, there is another way. At an hour’s notice I can ruin your - plans, and send you to a dungeon! You are like a fish caught in a net not - yet drawn. It thrusts its nose this way and that, and touches the mesh, - but is slow to take the alarm until the net is drawn—and then it is - too late. So it is with you, and so it is,’ he added, falling into the - ecstatic mood which marked him at times, and left me in doubt whether he - were all knave or in part enthusiast, ‘with all those who set themselves - against St. Peter and his Church!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I have heard you say much the same of the King of France,’ I said - derisively. - </p> - <p> - ‘You trust in him?’ he retorted, his eyes gleaming. ‘You have been up - there, and seen his crowded chamber, and counted his forty-five gentlemen - and his grey-coated Swiss? I tell you the splendour you saw was a dream, - and will vanish as a dream. The man’s strength and his glory shall go from - him, and that soon. Have you no eyes to see that he is beside the - question? There are but two powers in France—the Holy Union, which - still prevails, and the accursed Huguenot; and between them is the - battle.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Now you are telling me more,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - He grew sober in a moment, looking at me with a vicious anger hard to - describe. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut tut,’ he said, showing his yellow teeth, ‘the dead tell no tales. And - for Henry of Valois, he so loves a monk that you might better accuse his - mistress. But for you, I have only to cry “Ho! a Huguenot and a spy!” and - though he loved you more than he loved Quelus or Maugiron, he dare not - stretch out a finger to save you!’ - </p> - <p> - I knew that he spoke the truth, and with difficulty maintained the air of - indifference with which I had entered on the interview. - </p> - <p> - ‘But what if I leave Blois?’ I ventured, merely to see what he would say. - </p> - <p> - He laughed. ‘You cannot,’ he answered. ‘The net is round you, M. de - Marsac, and there are those at every gate who know you and have their - instructions. I can destroy you, but I would fain have your information, - and for that I will pay you five hundred crowns and let you go.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To fall into the hands of the King of Navarre?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He will disown you, in any case,’ he answered eagerly. ‘He had that in - his mind, my friend, when he selected an agent so obscure. He will disown - you. Ah, mon Dieu! had I been an hour quicker I had caught Rosny—Rosny - himself!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘There is one thing lacking still,’ I replied. ‘How am I to be sure that, - when I have told you what I know, you will pay me the money or let me go?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I will swear to it!’ he answered earnestly, deceived into thinking I was - about to surrender. ‘I will give you my oath, M. de Marsac!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I would as soon have your shoe-lace!’ I exclaimed, the indignation I - could not entirely repress finding vent in that phrase. ‘A Churchman’s vow - is worth a candle—or a candle and a half, is it?’ I continued - ironically. ‘I must have some security a great deal more substantial than - that, father.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ he asked, looking at me gloomily. - </p> - <p> - Seeing an opening, I cudgelled my brains to think of any condition which, - being fulfilled, might turn the table on him and place him in my power. - But his position was so strong, or my wits so weak, that nothing occurred - to me at the time, and I sat looking at, him, my mind gradually passing - from the possibility of escape to the actual danger in which I stood, and - which encompassed also Simon Fleix, and, in a degree, doubtless, M. de - Rambouillet. In four or five days, too, Mademoiselle de la Vire would - arrive. I wondered if I could send any warning to her; and then, again, I - doubted the wisdom of interfering with M. de Rosny’s plans, the more as - Maignan, who had gone to fetch mademoiselle, was of a kind to disregard - any orders save his master’s. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well!’ said the monk, impatiently recalling me to myself, ‘what security - do you want?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am not quite sure at this moment,’ I made answer slowly. ‘I am in a - difficult position. I must have some time to consider.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And to rid yourself of me, if it be possible,’ he said with irony. ‘I - quite understand. But I warn you that you are watched; and that wherever - you go and whatever you do, eyes which are mine are upon you.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I, too, understand,’ I said coolly. - </p> - <p> - He stood awhile uncertain, regarding me with mingled doubt and - malevolence, tortured on the one hand by fear of losing the prize if he - granted delay, on the other of failing as utterly if he exerted his power - and did not succeed in subduing my resolution. I watched him, too, and - gauging his eagerness and the value of the stake for which he was striving - by the strength of his emotions, drew small comfort from the sight. More - than once it had occurred to me, and now it occurred to me again, to - extricate myself by a blow. But a natural reluctance to strike an unarmed - man, however vile and knavish, and the belief that he had not trusted - himself in my power without taking the fullest precautions, withheld me. - When he grudgingly, and with many dark threats, proposed to wait three - days—and not an hour more—for my answer, I accepted; for I saw - no other alternative open. And on these terms, but not without some short - discussion, we parted, and I heard his stealthy footstep go sneaking down - the stairs. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIX. MEN CALL IT CHANCE. - </h2> - <p> - If I were telling more than the truth, or had it in my mind to embellish - my adventures, I could, doubtless, by the exercise of a little ingenuity - make it appear that I owed my escape from Father Antoine’s meshes to my - own craft; and tell, en fin, as pretty a story of plots and counterplots - as M. de Brantome has ever woven. Having no desire, however, to magnify - myself and, at this time of day, scarcely any reason, I am fain to confess - that the reverse was the case; and that while no man ever did less to free - himself than I did, my adversary retained his grasp to the end, and had - surely, but for a strange interposition, effected my ruin. How relief - came, and from what quarter, I might defy the most ingenious person, after - reading my memoirs to this point, to say; and this not so much by reason - of any subtle device, as because the hand of Providence was for once - directly manifest. - </p> - <p> - The three days of grace which the priest had granted I passed in anxious - but futile search for some means of escape, every plan I conceived dying - stillborn, and not the least of my miseries lying in the fact that I could - discern no better course than still to sit and think, and seemed doomed to - perpetual inaction. M. de Rambouillet being a strict Catholic, though in - all other respects a patriotic man, I knew better than to have recourse to - him; and the priest’s influence over M. d’Agen I had myself witnessed. For - similar reasons I rejected the idea of applying to the king; and this - exhausting the list of those on whom I had any claim, I found myself - thrown on my own resources, which seemed limited—my wits failing me - at this pinch—to my sword and Simon Fleix. - </p> - <p> - Assured that I must break out of Blois if I would save not myself only, - but others more precious because entrusted to my charge, I thought it no - disgrace to appeal to Simon; describing in a lively fashion the danger - which threatened us, and inciting the lad by every argument which I - thought likely to have weight with him to devise some way of escape. - </p> - <p> - Now is the time, my friend,’ I said, ‘to show your wits, and prove that M. - de Rosny, who said you had a cunning above the ordinary, was right. If - your brain can ever save your head, now is the time! For I tell you - plainly, if you cannot find some way to outmanoeuvre this villain before - to-morrow, I am spent. You can judge for yourself what chance you will - have of going free.’ - </p> - <p> - I paused at that, waiting for him to make some suggestion. To my chagrin - he remained silent, leaning his head on his hand, and studying the table - with his eyes in a sullen fashion; so that I began to regret the - condescension I had evinced in letting him be seated, and found it - necessary to remind him that he had taken service with me, and must do my - bidding. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well,’ he said morosely, and without looking up, ‘I am ready to do it. - But I do not like priests, and this one least of all. I know him, and I - will not meddle with him.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You will not meddle with him?’ I cried, almost beside myself with dismay. - </p> - <p> - ‘No, I won’t,’ he replied, retaining his listless attitude. ‘I know him, - and I am afraid of him. I am no match for him.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then M. de Rosny was wrong, was he?’ I said, giving way to my anger. - </p> - <p> - ‘If it please you,’ he answered pertly. - </p> - <p> - This was too much for me. My riding-switch lay handy, and I snatched it - up. Before he knew what I would be at, I fell upon him, and gave him such - a sound wholesome drubbing as speedily brought him to his senses. When he - cried for mercy—which he did not for a good space, being still - possessed by the peevish devil which had ridden him ever since his - departure from Rosny—I put it to him again whether M. de Rosny was - not right. When he at last admitted this, but not till then, I threw the - whip away and let him go, but did not cease to reproach him as he - deserved. - </p> - <p> - ‘Did you think,’ I said, ‘that I was going to be ruined because you would - not use your lazy brains? That I was going to sit still, and let you sulk, - while mademoiselle walked blindfold into the toils? Not at all, my - friend!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle!’ he exclaimed, looking at me with a sudden change of - countenance, end ceasing to rub himself and scowl, as he had been doing. - ‘She is not here, and is in no danger.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘She will be here to-morrow, or the next day,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - You did not tell me that!’ he replied, his eyes glittering. ‘Does Father - Antoine know it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He will know it the moment she enters the town,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - Noting the change which the introduction of mademoiselle’s name into the - affair had wrought in him, I felt something like humiliation. But at the - moment I had no choice; it was my business to use such instruments as came - to my hand, and not, mademoiselle’s safety being at stake, to pick and - choose too nicely. In a few minutes our positions were reversed. The lad - had grown as hot as I cold, as keenly excited as I critical. When he - presently came to a stand in front of me, I saw a strange likeness between - his face and the priest’s; nor was I astonished when he presently made - just such a proposal as I should have expected from Father Antoine - himself. - </p> - <p> - ‘There is only one thing for it,’ he muttered, trembling all over. ‘He - must be got rid of!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Fine talking!’ I said, contemptuously. ‘If he were a soldier he might be - brought to it. But he is a priest, my friend, and does not fight.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Fight? Who wants him to fight?’ the lad answered, his face dark, his - hands moving restlessly. ‘It is the easier done. A blow in the back, and - he will trouble us no more.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Who is to strike it?’ I asked drily. - </p> - <p> - Simon trembled and hesitated; but presently, heaving a deep sigh, he said, - ‘I will.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It might not be difficult,’ I muttered, thinking it over. - </p> - <p> - ‘It would be easy,’ he answered under his breath. His eyes shone, his lips - were white, and his long dark hair hung wet over his forehead. - </p> - <p> - I reflected, and the longer I did so the more feasible seemed the - suggestion. A single word, and I might sweep from my path the man whose - existence threatened mine; who would not meet me fairly, but, working - against me darkly and treacherously, deserved no better treatment at my - hands than that which a detected spy receives. He had wronged my mother; - he would fain destroy my friends! - </p> - <p> - And, doubtless, I shall be blamed by some and ridiculed by more for - indulging in scruples at such a time. But I have all my life long been - prejudiced against that form of underhand violence which I have heard old - men contend came into fashion in our country in modern times, and which - certainly seems to be alien from the French character. Without judging - others too harshly, or saying that the poniard is never excusable—for - then might some wrongs done to women and the helpless go without remedy—I - have set my face against its use as unworthy of a soldier. At the time, - moreover, of which I am now writing the extent to which our enemies had - lately resorted to it tended to fix this feeling with peculiar firmness in - my mind; and, but for the very desperate dilemma in which I stood at the - moment—and not I alone—I do not think that I should have - entertained Simon’s proposal for a minute. - </p> - <p> - As it was, I presently answered him in a way which left him in no doubt of - my sentiments. ‘Simon, my friend,’ I said—and I remember I was a - little moved—‘you have something still to learn, both as a soldier - and a Huguenot. Neither the one nor the other strikes at the back.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But if he will not fight?’ the lad retorted rebelliously. ‘What then?’ - </p> - <p> - It was so clear that our adversary gained an unfair advantage in this way - that I could not answer the question. I let it pass, therefore, and merely - repeating my former injunction, bade Simon think out another way. - </p> - <p> - He promised reluctantly to do so, and, after spending some moments in - thought, went out to learn whether the house was being watched. - </p> - <p> - When he returned, his countenance wore so new an expression that I saw at - once that something had happened. He did not meet my eye, however, and did - not explain, but made as if he would go out again, with something of - confusion in his manner. Before finally disappearing, however, he seemed - to change his mind once more; for, marching up to me where I stood eyeing - him with the utmost astonishment, he stopped before me, and suddenly - drawing out his hand, thrust something into mine. - </p> - <p> - ‘What is it, man?’ I said mechanically. - </p> - <p> - ‘Look!’ he answered rudely, breaking silence for the first time. ‘You - should know. Why ask me? What have I to do with it?’ - </p> - <p> - I looked then, and saw that he had given me a knot of velvet precisely - similar is shape, size, and material to that well-remembered one which had - aided me so opportunely in my search for mademoiselle. This differed from - that a little in colour, but in nothing else, the fashion of the bow being - the same, and one lappet hearing the initials ‘C. d. l. V.,’ while the - other had the words, ‘A moi.’ I gazed at it in wonder. ‘But, Simon,’ I - said, ‘what does it mean? Where did you get it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Where should I get it?’ he answered jealously. Then, seeming to recollect - himself, he changed his tone. ‘A woman gave it to me in the street,’ he - said. - </p> - <p> - I asked him what woman. - </p> - <p> - ‘How should I know?’ he answered, his eyes gleaming with anger. ‘It was a - woman in a mask.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Was it Fanchette?’ I said sternly. - </p> - <p> - ‘It might have been. I do not know,’ he responded. - </p> - <p> - I concluded at first that mademoiselle and her escort had arrived in the - outskirts of the city, and that Maignan had justified his reputation for - discretion by sending in to learn from me whether the way was clear before - he entered. In this notion I was partly confirmed and partly shaken by the - accompanying message; which Simon, from whom every scrap of information - had to be dragged as blood from a stone, presently delivered. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are to meet the sender half an hour after sunset to-morrow evening,’ - he said, ‘on the Parvis at the north-east corner of the cathedral.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To-morrow evening?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, when else?’ the lad answered ungraciously. ‘I said to-morrow - evening.’ - </p> - <p> - I thought this strange. I could understand why Maignan should prefer to - keep his charge outside the walls until he heard from me, but not why he - should postpone a meeting so long. The message, too, seemed unnecessarily - meagre, and I began to think Simon was still withholding something. - </p> - <p> - ‘Was that all?’ I asked him. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, all,’ he answered, ‘except—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Except what?’ I said sternly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Except that the woman showed me the gold token Mademoiselle de la Vire - used to carry,’ he answered reluctantly, ‘and said, if you wanted further - assurance that would satisfy you.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Did you see the coin?’ I cried eagerly. - </p> - <p> - ‘To be sure,’ he answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then, mon dieu!’ I retorted, ‘either you are deceiving me, or the woman - you saw deceived you. For mademoiselle has not got the token! I have it - here, in my possession! Now, do you still say you saw it, man?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I saw one like it,’ he answered, trembling, his face damp. ‘That I will - swear. And the woman told me what I have told you. And no more.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then it is clear,’ I answered, ‘that mademoiselle has nothing to do with - this, and is doubtless many a league away. This is one of M. de Bruhl’s - tricks. Fresnoy gave him the token he stole from me. And I told him the - story of the velvet knot myself. This is a trap; and had I fallen into it, - and gone to the Parvis to-morrow evening, I had never kept another - assignation, my lad.’ - </p> - <p> - Simon looked thoughtful. Presently he said, with a crestfallen air, ‘You - were to go alone. The woman said that.’ - </p> - <p> - Though I knew well why he had suppressed this item, I forbore to blame - him. ‘What was the woman like?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘She had very much of Franchette’s figure,’ he answered. He could not go - beyond that. Blinded by the idea that the woman was mademoiselle’s - attendant, and no one else, he had taken little heed of her, and could not - even say for certain that she was not a man in woman’s clothes. - </p> - <p> - I thought the matter over and discussed it with him; and was heartily - minded to punish M. de Bruhl, if I could discover a way of turning his - treacherous plot against himself. But the lack of any precise knowledge of - his plans prevented me stirring in the matter; the more as I felt no - certainty that I should be master of my actions when the time came. - </p> - <p> - Strange to say the discovery of this movement on the part of Bruhl, who - had sedulously kept himself in the background since the scene in the - king’s presence, far from increasing my anxieties, had the effect of - administering a fillip to my spirits; which the cold and unyielding - pressure of the Jacobin had reduced to a low point. Here was something I - could understand, resist, and guard against. The feeling that I had once - more to do with a man of like aims and passions with myself quickly - restored me to the use of my faculties; as I have heard that a swordsman - opposed to the powers of evil regains his vigour on finding himself - engaged with a mortal foe. Though I knew that the hours of grace were fast - running to a close, and that on the morrow the priest would call for an - answer, I experienced that evening an unreasonable lightness and - cheerfulness. I retired to rest with confidence, and slept in comfort, - supported in part, perhaps, by the assurance that in that room where my - mother died her persecutor could have no power to harm me. - </p> - <p> - Upon Simon Fleix, on the other hand, the discovery that Bruhl was moving, - and that consequently peril threatened us from a new quarter, had a - different effect. He fell into a state of extreme excitement, and spent - the evening and a great part of the night in walking restlessly up and - down the room, wrestling with the fears and anxieties which beset us, and - now talking fast to himself, now biting his nails in an agony of - impatience. In vain I adjured him not to meet troubles halfway; or, - pointing to the pallet which he occupied at the foot of my couch, bade - him, if he could not devise a way of escape, at least to let the matter - rest until morning. He had no power to obey, but, tortured by the vivid - anticipations which it was his nature to entertain, he continued to ramble - to and fro in a fever of the nerves, and had no sooner lain down than be - was up again. Remembering, however, how well he had borne himself on the - night of mademoiselle’s escape from Blois, I refrained from calling him a - coward; and contented myself instead with the reflection that nothing sits - worse on a fighting-man than too much knowledge—except, perhaps, a - lively imagination. - </p> - <p> - I thought it possible that mademoiselle might arrive next day before - Father Antoine called to receive his answer. In this event I hoped to have - the support of Maignan’s experience. But the party did not arrive. I had - to rely on myself and my own resources, and, this being so, determined to - refuse the priest’s offer, but in all other things to be guided by - circumstances. - </p> - <p> - About noon he came, attended, as was his practice, by two friends, whom he - left outside. He looked paler and more shadowy than before, I thought, his - hands thinner, and his cheeks more transparent. I could draw no good - augury, however, from these, signs of frailty, for the brightness of his - eyes and the unusual elation of his manner told plainly of a spirit - assured of the mastery. He entered the room with an air of confidence, and - addressed me in a tone of patronage which left me in no doubt of his - intentions; the frankness with which he now laid bare his plans going far - to prove that already he considered me no better than his tool. - </p> - <p> - I did not at once undeceive him, but allowed him to proceed, and even to - bring out the five hundred crowns which he had promised me, and the sight - of which he doubtless supposed would clench the matter. - </p> - <p> - Seeing this he became still less reticent, and spoke so largely that I - presently felt myself impelled to ask him if he would answer a question. - </p> - <p> - ‘That is as may be, M. de Marsac,’ he answered lightly. ‘You may ask it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You hint at great schemes which you have in hand, father,’ I said. ‘You - speak of France and Spain and Navarre, and kings and Leagues and - cardinals! You talk of secret strings, and would have me believe that if I - comply with your wishes I shall find you as powerful a patron as M. de - Rosny. But—one moment, if you please,’ I continued hastily, seeing - that he was about to interrupt me with such eager assurances as I had - already heard; ‘tell me this. With so many irons in the fire, why did you - interfere with one old gentlewoman—for the sake of a few crowns?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I will tell you even that,’ he answered, his face flushing at my tone. - ‘Have you ever heard of an elephant? Yes. Well, it has a trunk, you know, - with which it can either drag an oak from the earth or lift a groat from - the ground. It is so with me. But again you ask,’ he continued with an - airy grimace, ‘why I wanted a few crowns. Enough that I did. There are - going to be two things in the world, and two only, M. de Marsac: brains - and money. The former I have, and had: the latter I needed—and - took.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Money and brains?’ I said, looking at him thoughtfully. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ he answered, his eyes sparkling, his thin nostrils beginning to - dilate. ‘Give me these two, and I will rule France!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You will rule France?’ I exclaimed, amazed beyond measure by his - audacity. ‘You, man?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, I,’ he answered, with abominable coolness. ‘I, priest, monk, - Churchman, clerk. You look surprised, but mark you, sir, there is a change - going on. Our time is coming, and yours is going. What hampers our lord - the king and shuts him up in Blois, while rebellions stalk through France? - Lack of men? No; but lack of money. Who can get the money for him—you - the soldier, or I the clerk? A thousand times, I! Therefore, my time is - coming, and before you die you will see a priest rule France.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘God forbid it should be you,’ I answered scornfully. - </p> - <p> - ‘As you please,’ he answered, shrugging his shoulders, and assuming in a - breath a mask of humility which sat as ill on his monstrous conceit as - ever nun’s veil on a trooper. ‘Yet it may even be I; by the favour of the - Holy Catholic Church, whose humble minister I am.’ - </p> - <p> - I sprang up with a great oath at that, having no stomach for more of the - strange transformations, in which this man delighted, and whereof the last - had ever the air of being the most hateful. ‘You villain!’ I cried, - twisting my moustaches, a habit I have when enraged. ‘And so you would - make me a stepping-stone to your greatness. You would bribe me—a - soldier and a gentleman. Go, before I do you a mischief. That is all I - have to say to you. Go! You have your answer. I will tell you nothing—not - a jot or a tittle. Begone from my room!’ - </p> - <p> - He fell back a step in his surprise, and stood against the table biting - his nails and scowling at me, fear and chagrin contending with half a - dozen devils for the possession of his face. ‘So you have been deceiving - me,’ he said slowly, and at last. - </p> - <p> - ‘I have let you deceive yourself’ I answered, looking at him with scorn, - but with little of the fear with which he had for a while inspired me. - ‘Begone, and do your worst.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You know what you are doing,’ he said. ‘I have that will hang you, M. de - Marsac—or worse.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Go!’ I cried. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have thought of your friends,’ he continued mockingly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Go!’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Of Mademoiselle de la Vire, if by any chance she fall into my hands? It - will not be hanging for her. You remember the two Foucauds?’—and he - laughed. - </p> - <p> - The vile threat, which I knew he had used to my mother, so worked upon me - that I strode forward unable to control myself longer. In another moment I - had certainly taken him by the throat and squeezed the life out of his - miserable carcase, had not Providence in its goodness intervened to save - me. The door, on which he had already laid his hand in terror, opened - suddenly. It admitted Simon, who, closing it; behind him, stood looking - from one to the other of us in nervous doubt; divided between that respect - for the priest which a training at the Sorbonne had instilled into him, - and the rage which despair arouses in the weakest. - </p> - <p> - His presence, while it checked me in my purpose, seemed to give Father - Antoine courage, for the priest stood his ground, and even turned to me a - second time, his face dark with spite and disappointment. ‘Good,’ he said - hoarsely. ‘Destroy yourself if you will! I advise you to bar your door, - for in an hour the guards will be here to fetch you to the question.’ - </p> - <p> - Simon cried out at the threat, so that I turned and looked at the lad. His - knees were shaking, his hair stood on end. - </p> - <p> - The priest saw his terror and his own opportunity. ‘Ay, in an hour,’ he - continued slowly, looking at him with cruel eyes. ‘In an hour, lad! You - must be fond of pain to court it, and out of humour with life to throw it - away. Or stay,’ he continued abruptly, after considering Simon’s narrowly - for a moment, and doubtless deducing from it a last hope, ‘I will be - merciful. I will give you one more chance.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And yourself?’ I said with a sneer. - </p> - <p> - ‘As you please,’ he answered, declining to be diverted from the trembling - lad, whom his gaze seemed to fascinate. ‘I will give you until half an - hour after sunset this evening to reconsider the matter. If you make up - your minds to accept my terms, meet me then. I leave to-night for Paris, - and I will give you until the last moment. But,’ he continued grimly, ‘if - you do not meet me, or, meeting me, remain obstinate—God do so to - me, and more also, if you see the sun rise thrice.’ - </p> - <p> - Some impulse, I know not what, seeing that I had no thought of accepting - his terms or meeting him, led me to ask briefly, ‘Where?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘On the Parvis of the Cathedral,’ he answered after a moment’s - calculation. ‘At the north-east corner, half an hour after sunset. It is a - quiet spot.’ - </p> - <p> - Simon uttered a stifled exclamation. And then for a moment there was - silence in the room, while the lad breathed hard and irregularly, and I - stood rooted to the spot, looking so long and so strangely at the priest - that Father Antoine laid his hand again on the door and glanced uneasily - behind him. Nor was he content until he had hit on, as he fancied, the - cause of my strange regard. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ha!’ he said, his thin lip curling in conceit at his astuteness, ‘I - understand you think to kill me to-night? Let me tell you, this house is - watched. If you leave here to meet me with any companion—unless it - be M. d’Agen, whom I can trust, I shall be warned, and be gone before you - reach the rendezvous. And gone, mind you,’ he added, with a grim smile, - ‘to sign your death-warrant.’ - </p> - <p> - He went out with that, closing the door behind him; and we heard his step - go softly down the staircase. I gazed at Simon, and he at me, with all the - astonishment and awe which it was natural we should feel in presence of so - remarkable a coincidence. - </p> - <p> - For by a marvel the priest had named the same spot and the same time as - the sender of the velvet knot! - </p> - <p> - ‘He will go,’ Simon said, his face flushed and his voice trembling, ‘and - they will go.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And in the dark they will not know him,’ I muttered. ‘He is about my - height. They will take him for me!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And kill him!’ Simon cried hysterically. ‘They will kill him! He goes to - his death, monsieur. It is the finger of God.’ - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XX. THE KING’S FACE. - </h2> - <p> - It seemed so necessary to bring home the crime to Bruhl should the priest - really perish in the trap laid for me, that I came near to falling into - one of those mistakes to which men of action are prone. For my first - impulse was to follow the priest to the Parvis, closely enough, if - possible, to detect the assassins in the act, and with sufficient force, - if I could muster it, to arrest them. The credit of dissuading me from - this course lies with Simon, who pointed out its dangers in so convincing - a manner that I was brought with little difficulty to relinquish it. - </p> - <p> - Instead, acting on his advice, I sent him to M. d’Agen’s lodging, to beg - that young gentleman to call upon me before evening. After searching the - lodging and other places in vain, Simon found M. d’Agen in the - tennis-court at the Castle, and, inventing a crafty excuse, brought him to - my lodging a full hour before the time. - </p> - <p> - My visitor was naturally surprised to find that I had nothing particular - to say to him. I dared not tell him what occupied my thoughts, and for the - rest invention failed me. But his gaiety and those pretty affectations on - which he spent an infinity of pains, for the purpose, apparently, of - hiding the sterling worth of a character deficient neither in courage nor - backbone, were united to much good nature. Believing at last that I had - sent for him in a fit of the vapours, he devoted himself to amusing me and - abusing Bruhl—a very favourite pastime with him. And in this way he - made out a call of two hours. - </p> - <p> - I had not long to wait for proof of Simon’s wisdom in taking this - precaution. We thought it prudent to keep within doors after our guest’s - departure, and so passed the night in ignorance whether anything had - happened or not. But about seven next morning one of the Marquis’s - servants, despatched by M. d’Agen, burst in upon us with the news—which - was no news from the moment his hurried footstep sounded on the stairs - that Father Antoine had been set upon and killed the previous evening! - </p> - <p> - I heard this confirmation of my hopes with grave thankfulness; Simon with - so much emotion that when the messenger was gone he sat down on a stool - and began to sob and tremble as if he had lost his mother, instead of a - mortal foe. I took advantage of the occasion to read him a sermon on the - end of crooked courses; nor could I myself recall without a shudder the - man’s last words to me; or the lawless and evil designs in which he had - rejoiced, while standing on the very brink of the pit which was to swallow - up both him and them in everlasting darkness. - </p> - <p> - Naturally, the uppermost feeling in my mind was relief. I was free once - more. In all probability the priest had kept his knowledge to himself, and - without him his agents would be powerless. Simon, it is true, heard that - the town was much excited by the event; and that many attributed it to the - Huguenots. But we did not suffer ourselves to be depressed by this, nor - had I any foreboding until the sound of a second hurried footstep mounting - the stairs reached our ears. - </p> - <p> - I knew the step in a moment for M. d’Agen’s, and something ominous in its - ring brought me to my feet before he opened the door. Significant as was - his first hasty look round the room, he recovered at sight of me all his - habitual SANG-FROID. He saluted me, and spoke coolly, though rapidly. But - he panted, and I noticed in a moment that he had lost his lisp. - </p> - <p> - ‘I am happy in finding you,’ he said, closing the door carefully behind - him, ‘for I am the bearer of ill news, and there is not a moment to be - lost. The king has signed an order for your instant consignment to prison, - M. de Marsac, and, once there, it is difficult to say what may not - happen.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘My consignment?’ I exclaimed. I may be pardoned if the news for a moment - found me unprepared. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ he replied quickly. ‘The king has signed it at the instance of - Marshal Retz.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But for what?’ I cried in amazement. - </p> - <p> - ‘The murder of Father Antoine. You will pardon me,’ he continued urgently, - ‘but this is no time for words. The Provost-Marshal is even now on his way - to arrest you. Your only hope is to evade him, and gain an audience of the - king. I have persuaded my uncle to go with you, and he is waiting at his - lodgings. There is not a moment to be lost, however, if you would reach - the king’s presence before you are arrested.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But I am innocent!’ I cried. - </p> - <p> - ‘I know it,’ M. d’Agen answered, ‘and can prove it. But if you cannot get - speech of the king innocence will avail you nothing. You have powerful - enemies. Come without more ado, M. de Marsac, I pray,’ he added. - </p> - <p> - His manner, even more than his words, impressed me with a sense of - urgency; and postponing for a time my own judgment, I hurriedly thanked - him for his friendly offices. Snatching up my sword, which lay on a chair, - I buckled it on; for Simon’s fingers trembled so violently he could give - me no help. This done I nodded to M. d’Agen to go first, and followed him - from the room, Simon attending us of his own motion. It would be then - about eleven o’clock in the forenoon. - </p> - <p> - My companion ran down the stairs without ceremony, and so quickly it was - all I could do to keep up with him. At the outer door he signed me to - stand, and darting himself into the street, he looked anxiously in the - direction of the Rue St. Denys. Fortunately the coast was still clear, and - he beckoned to me to follow him. I did so and starting to walk in the - opposite direction as fast as we could, in less than a minute we had put a - corner between us and the house. - </p> - <p> - Our hopes of escaping unseen, however, were promptly dashed. The house, I - have said, stood in a quiet by-street, which was bounded on the farther - side by a garden-wall buttressed at intervals. We had scarcely gone a - dozen paces from my door when a man slipped from the shelter of one of - these buttresses, and after a single glance at us, set off to run towards - the Rue St. Denys. - </p> - <p> - M. d’Agen looked back and nodded. ‘There goes the news,’ he said. ‘They - will try to cut us off, but I think we have the start of them.’ - </p> - <p> - I made no reply, feeling that I had resigned myself entirely into his - hands. But as we passed through the Rue de Valois, in part of which a - market was held at this hour, attracting a considerable concourse of - peasants and others, I fancied I detected signs of unusual bustle and - excitement. It seemed unlikely that news of the priest’s murder should - affect so many people and to such a degree, and I asked M. d’Agen what it - meant. - </p> - <p> - ‘There is a rumour abroad,’ he answered, without slackening speed, ‘that - the king intends to move south to Tours at once.’ - </p> - <p> - I muttered my surprise and satisfaction. ‘He will come to terms with the - Huguenots then?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘It looks like it,’ M. d’Agen rejoined. ‘Retz’s party are in an ill-humour - on that account, and will wreak it on you if they get a chance. On guard!’ - he added abruptly. ‘Here are two of them!’ - </p> - <p> - As he spoke we emerged from the crowd, and I saw, half a dozen paces in - front; of us, and coming to meet us, a couple of Court gallants, attended - by as many servants. They espied us at the same moment, and came across - the street, which was tolerably wide at that part, with the evident - intention of stopping us. Simultaneously, however, we crossed to take - their side, and so met them face to face in the middle of the way. - </p> - <p> - ‘M. d’Agen,’ the foremost exclaimed, speaking in a haughty tone, and with - a dark side glance at me, ‘I am sorry to see you in such company! - Doubtless you are not aware that this gentleman is the subject of an order - which has even now been issued to the Provost-Marshal.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And if so, sir? What of that?’ my companion lisped in his silkiest tone. - </p> - <p> - ‘What of that?’ the other cried, frowning, and pushing slightly forward. - </p> - <p> - ‘Precisely,’ M. d’Agen repeated, laying his hand on his hilt and declining - to give back. ‘I am not aware that his Majesty has appointed you - Provost-Marshal, or that you have any warrant, M. Villequier, empowering - you to stop gentlemen in the public streets.’ - </p> - <p> - M. Villequier reddened with anger. ‘You are young, M. d’Agen,’ he said, - his voice quivering, ‘or I would make you pay dearly for that!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘My friend is not young,’ M. d’Agen retorted, bowing. ‘He is a gentleman - of birth, M. Villequier; by repute, as I learned yesterday, one of the - best swordsmen in France, and no Gascon. If you feel inclined to arrest - him, do so, I pray. And I will have the honour of engaging your son.’ - </p> - <p> - As we had all by this time our hands on our swords, there needed but a - blow to bring about one of those street brawls which were more common then - than now. A number of market-people, drawn to the spot by our raised - voices, had gathered round, and were waiting eagerly to see what would - happen. But Villeqier, as my companion perhaps knew, was a Gascon in heart - as well as by birth, and seeing our determined aspects, thought better of - it. Shrugging his shoulders with an affectation of disdain which imposed - on no one, he signalled to his servants to go on, and himself stood aside. - </p> - <p> - ‘I thank you for your polite offer,’ he said with an evil smile, ‘and will - remember it. But as you say, sir, I am not the Provost-Marshal.’ - </p> - <p> - Paying little heed to his words, we bowed, passed him, and hurried on. But - the peril was not over. Not only had the RENCONTRE cost us some precious - minutes, but the Gascon, after letting us proceed a little way, followed - us. And word being passed by his servants, as we supposed, that one of us - was the murderer of Father Antoine, the rumour spread through the crowd - like wildfire, and in a few moments we found ourselves attended by a troop - of CANAILLE who, hanging on our skirts, caused Simon Fleix no little - apprehension. Notwithstanding the contempt which M. d’Agen, whose bearing - throughout was admirable, expressed for them, we might have found it - necessary to turn and teach them a lesson had we not reached M. de - Rambouillet’s in the nick of time; where we found the door surrounded by - half a dozen armed servants, at sight of whom our persecutors fell back - with the cowardice which is usually found in that class. - </p> - <p> - If I had been tempted of late to think M. de Rambouillet fickle, I had no - reason to complain now; whether his attitude was due to M. d’Agen’s - representations, or to the reflection that without me the plans he had at - heart must miscarry. I found him waiting within, attended by three - gentlemen, all cloaked and ready for the road; while the air of purpose, - which sat on his brow indicated that he thought the crisis no common one. - Not a moment was lost, even in explanations. Waving me to the door again, - and exchanging a few sentences with his nephew, he gave the word to start, - and we issued from the house in a body. Doubtless the fact that those who - sought to ruin me were his political enemies had some weight with him; for - I saw his face harden as his eyes met those of M. de Villequier, who - passed slowly before the door as we came out. The Gascon, however, was not - the man to interfere with so large a party, and dropped back; while M. de - Rambouillet, after exchanging a cold salute with him, led the way towards - the Castle at a round pace. His nephew and I walked one on either side of - him, and the others, to the number of ten or eleven, pressed on behind in - a compact body, our cortege presenting so determined a front that the - crowd, which had remained hanging about the door, fled every way. Even - some peaceable folk who found themselves in our road took the precaution - of slipping into doorways, or stood aside to give us the full width of the - street. - </p> - <p> - I remarked—and I think it increased my anxiety—that our leader - was dressed with more than usual care and richness, but, unlike his - attendants, wore no arms. He took occasion, as we hurried along, to give - me a word of advice. ‘M. de Marsac,’ he said, looking at me suddenly, ‘my - nephew has given me to understand that you place yourself entirely in my - hands.’ - </p> - <p> - I replied that I asked for no better fortune, and, whatever the event, - thanked him from the bottom of my heart. - </p> - <p> - ‘Be pleased then to keep silence until I bid you speak,’ he replied - sharply, for he was one of those whom a sudden stress sours and - exacerbates. ‘And, above all, no violence without my orders. We are about - to fight a battle, and a critical one, but it must be won with our heads. - If we can we will keep you out of the Provost-Marshal’s hands.’ - </p> - <p> - And if not? I remembered the threats Father Antoine had used, and in a - moment I lost sight of the street with all its light and life and - movement. I felt no longer the wholesome stinging of the wind. I tasted - instead a fetid air, and saw round me a narrow cell and masked figures, - and in particular a swarthy man is a leather apron leaning over a brazier, - from which came lurid flames. And I was bound. I experienced that utter - helplessness which is the last test of courage. The man came forward, and - then—then, thank God! the vision passed away. An exclamation to - which M. d’Agen gave vent, brought me back to the present, and to the - blessed knowledge that the fight was not yet over. - </p> - <p> - We were within a score of paces, I found, of the Castle gates; but so were - also a second party, who had just debouched from a side-street, and now - hurried on, pace for pace, with us, with the evident intention of - forestalling us, The race ended in both companies reaching the entrance at - the same time, with the consequence of some jostling taking place amongst - the servants. This must have led to blows but for the strenuous commands - which M. de Rambouillet had laid upon his followers. I found myself in a - moment confronted by a row of scowling faces, while a dozen threatening - hands were stretched out towards me, and as many voices, among which I - recognised Fresnoy’s, cried out tumultuously, ‘That is he! That is the - one!’ - </p> - <p> - An elderly man in a quaint dress stepped forward, a paper in his hand, - and, backed as he was by half a dozen halberdiers, would in a moment have - laid hands on me if M. de Rambouillet had not intervened with a negligent - air of authority, which sat on him the more gracefully as he held nothing - but a riding-switch in his hands. ‘Tut, tut! What is this?’ he said - lightly. ‘I am not wont to have my people interfered with, M. Provost, - without my leave. You know me, I suppose?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Perfectly, M. le Marquis,’ the man answered with dogged respect; ‘but - this is by the king’s special command.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Very good,’ my patron answered, quietly eyeing the faces behind the - Provost-Marshal, as if he were making a note of them; which caused some of - the gentlemen manifest uneasiness. ‘That is soon seen, for we are even now - about to seek speech with his Majesty.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Not this gentleman,’ the Provost-Marshal answered firmly, raising his - hand again. ‘I cannot let him pass.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, this gentleman too, by your leave,’ the Marquis retorted, lightly - putting the hand aside with his cane. - </p> - <p> - ‘Sir,’ said the other, retreating a step, and speaking with some heat, - ‘this is no jest with all respect. I hold the king’s own order, and it may - not be resisted.’ - </p> - <p> - The nobleman tapped his silver comfit-box and smiled. ‘I shall be the last - to resist it—if you have it,’ he said languidly. - </p> - <p> - ‘You may read it for yourself,’ the Provost-Marshal answered, his patience - exhausted. - </p> - <p> - M. de Rambouillet took the parchment with the ends of his fingers, glanced - at it, and gave it back. ‘As I thought,’ he said, ‘a manifest forgery.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A forgery!’ cried the other, crimson with indignation. ‘And I had it from - the hands of the king’s own secretary!’ At this those behind murmured, - some ‘shame,’ and some one thing and some another—all with an air so - threatening that the Marquis’s gentlemen closed up behind him, and M. - d’Agen laughed rudely. - </p> - <p> - But M. de Rambouillet remained unmoved. ‘You may have had it from whom you - please, sir,’ he said. ‘It is a forgery, and I shall resist its execution. - If you choose to await me here, I will give you my word to render this - gentleman to you within an hour, should the order hold good. If you will - not wait, I shall command my servants to clear the way, and if ill happen, - then the responsibility will lie with you.’ - </p> - <p> - He spoke in so resolute a manner it was not difficult to see that - something more was at stake than the arrest of a single man. This was so; - the real issue was whether the king, with whose instability it was - difficult to cope, should fall back into the hands of his old advisers or - not. My arrest was a move in the game intended as a counterblast to the - victory which M. de Rambouillet had gained when he persuaded the king to - move to Tours; a city in the neighbourhood of the Huguenots, and a place - of arms whence union with them would be easy. - </p> - <p> - The Provost-Marshal could, no doubt, make a shrewd guess at these things. - He knew that the order he had would be held valid or not according as one - party or the other gained the mastery; and, seeing M. de Rambouillet’s - resolute demeanour, he gave way. Rudely interrupted more than once by his - attendants, among whom were some of Bruhl’s men, he muttered an ungracious - assent to our proposal; on which, and without a moment’s delay, the - Marquis took me by the arm and hurried me across the courtyard. - </p> - <p> - And so far, well. My heart began to rise. But, for the Marquis, as we - mounted the staircase the anxiety he had dissembled while we faced the - Provost-Marshal, broke out in angry mutterings; from which I gathered that - the crisis was yet to come. I was not surprised, therefore, when an usher - rose on our appearance in the antechamber, and, quickly crossing the - floor, interposed between us and the door of the chamber, informing the - Marquis with a low obeisance that his Majesty was engaged. - </p> - <p> - ‘He will see me,’ M. de Rambouillet cried, looking haughtily round on the - sneering pages and lounging courtiers, who grew civil under his eye. - </p> - <p> - ‘I have particular orders, sir, to admit so one,’ the man answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut, they do not apply to me,’ my companion retorted, nothing - daunted. ‘I know the business on which the king is engaged, and I am here - to assist him.’ And raising his hand he thrust the startled official - aside, and hardily pushed the doors of the chamber open. - </p> - <p> - The king, surrounded by half a dozen persons, was in the act of putting on - his riding-boots. On hearing us, he turned his head with a startled air, - and dropped in his confusion one of the ivory cylinders he was using; - while his aspect, and that of the persons who stood round him, reminded me - irresistibly of a party of schoolboys detected in a fault. - </p> - <p> - He recovered himself, it is true, almost immediately; and turning his back - to us? continued to talk to the persons round him on such trifling - subjects as commonly engaged him. He carried on this conversation in a - very free way, studiously ignoring our presence; but it was plain he - remained aware of it, and even that he was uneasy under the cold and - severe gaze which the Marquis, who seemed in nowise affrighted by his - reception, bent upon him. - </p> - <p> - I, for my part, had no longer any confidence. Nay, I came near to - regretting that I had persevered in an attempt so useless. The warrant - which awaited me at the gates seemed less formidable than his Majesty’s - growing displeasure; which I saw I was incurring by remaining where I was. - It needed not the insolent glance of Marshal Retz, who lounged smiling by - the king’s hand, or the laughter of a couple of pages who stood at the - head of the chamber, to deprive me of my last hope; while some things - which might have cheered me—the uneasiness of some about the king, - and the disquietude which underlay Marshal Retz’s manner—escaped my - notice altogether. - </p> - <p> - What I did see clearly was that the king’s embarrassment was fast changing - to anger. The paint which reddened his cheeks prevented tiny alteration in - his colour being visible, but his frown and the nervous manner in which he - kept taking off and putting on his jewelled cap betrayed him. At length, - signing to one of his companions to follow, he moved a little aside to a - window, whence, after a few moments, the gentleman came to us. - </p> - <p> - ‘M. de Rambouillet,’ he said, speaking coldly and formally, ‘his Majesty - is displeased by this gentleman’s presence, and requires him to withdraw - forthwith.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘His Majesty’s word is law,’ my patron answered, bowing low, and speaking - in a clear voice audible throughout; the chamber, ‘but the matter which - brings this gentleman here is of the utmost importance, and touches his - Majesty’s person.’ - </p> - <p> - M. de Retz laughed jeeringly. The other courtiers looked grave. The king - shrugged his shoulders with a peevish gesture, but after a moment’s - hesitation, during which he looked first at Retz and then at M. de - Rambouillet, he signed to the Marquis to approach. - </p> - <p> - ‘Why have you brought him here?’ he muttered sharply, looking askance at - me. ‘He should have been bestowed according to my orders.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He has information for your Majesty’s private ear,’ Rambouillet answered. - And he looked so meaningly at the king that Henry, I think, remembered on - a sudden his compact with Rosny, and my part in it; for he started with - the air of a man suddenly awakened. ‘To prevent that information reaching - you, sire,’ my patron continued, ‘his enemies have practised on your - Majesty’s well-known sense of justice.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Oh, but stay, stay!’ the king cried, hitching forward the scanty cloak he - wore, which barely came down to his waist. ‘The man has killed a priest! - He has killed a priest, man!’ - </p> - <p> - He repeated with confidence, as if he had now got hold of the right - argument. - </p> - <p> - That is not so, sire, craving your Majesty’s pardon, M. de Rambouillet; - replied with the utmost coolness. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut! Tut! The evidence is clear,’ the king said peevishly. - </p> - <p> - ‘As to that, sire,’ my companion rejoined, ‘if it is of the murder of - Father Antoine he is accused, I say boldly that there is none.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then there you are mistaken!’ the king answered. ‘I heard it with my own - ears this morning.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Will you deign, sire, to tell me its nature?’ M. de Rambouillet - persisted. - </p> - <p> - But on that Marshal Retz thought it necessary to intervene. ‘Need we turn - his Majesty’s chamber into a court of justice?’ he said smoothly. Hitherto - he had not spoken; trusting, perhaps, to the impression he had already - made upon the king. - </p> - <p> - M. de Rambouillet took no notice of him. - </p> - <p> - ‘But Bruhl,’ said the king, ‘you see, Bruhl says—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Bruhl!’ my companion replied, with so much contempt that Henry started. - ‘Surely your Majesty has not taken his word against this gentleman, of all - people?’ - </p> - <p> - Thus reminded, a second time, of the interests entrusted to me, and of the - advantage which Bruhl would gain by my disappearance, the king looked - first confused, and then angry. He vented his passion in one or two - profane oaths, with the childish addition that we were all a set of - traitors, and that he had no one whom he could trust. But my companion had - touched the right chord at last; for when the king grew more composed, he - waved aside Marshal Retz’s protestations, and sullenly bade Rambouillet - say what he had to say. - </p> - <p> - ‘The monk was killed, sire, about sunset,’ he answered. ‘Now my nephew, M. - d’Agen, is without, and will tell your Majesty that he was with this - gentleman at his lodgings from about an hour before sunset last evening - until a full hour after. Consequently, M. de Marsac can hardly be the - assassin, and M. le Marechal must look elsewhere if he wants vengeance.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Justice, sir, not vengeance.’ Marshal Retz said with a dark glance. His - keen Italian face hid his trouble well, but a little pulse of passion - beating in his olive cheek betrayed the secret to those who knew him. He - had a harder part to play than his opponent; for while Rambouillet’s hands - were clean, Retz knew himself a traitor, and liable at any moment to - discovery and punishment. - </p> - <p> - ‘Let M. d’Agen be called,’ Henry said curtly. - </p> - <p> - ‘And if your Majesty pleases,’ Retz added, ‘M. de Bruhl also, If you - really intend, sire, that is, to reopen a matter which I thought had been - settled.’ - </p> - <p> - The king nodded obstinately, his face furrowed with ill-temper. He kept - his shifty eyes, which seldom met those of the person he addressed, on the - floor; and this accentuated the awkward stooping carriage which was - natural to him. There were seven or eight dogs of exceeding smallness in - the room, and while we waited for the persons who had been summoned, he - kicked, now one and now another of the baskets which held them, as if he - found in this some vent for his ill-humour. - </p> - <p> - The witnesses presently appeared, followed by several persons, among whom - were the Dukes of Nevers and Mercoeur, who came to ride out with the king, - and M. de Crillon; so that the chamber grew passably full. The two dukes - nodded formally to the Marquis, as they passed him, but entered into a - muttered conversation with Retz, who appeared to be urging them to press - his cause. They seemed to decline, however, shrugging their short cloaks - as if the matter were too insignificant. Crillon on his part cried - audibly, and with an oath, to know what the matter was; and being - informed, asked whether all this fuss was being made about a damned - shaveling monk. - </p> - <p> - Henry, whose tenderness for the cowl was well known, darted an angry - glance at him, but contented himself with saying sharply to M. d’Agen, - ‘Now, sir, what do you know about the matter?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘One moment, sire,’ M. Rambouillet cried, interposing before Francois - could answer. ‘Craving your Majesty’s pardon, you have heard M. de Bruhl’s - account. May I, as a favour to myself, beg you, sire, to permit us also to - hear it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ Marshal Retz exclaimed angrily, ‘are we to be the judges, then, or - his Majesty? Arnidieu!’ he continued hotly, ‘what, in the fiend’s name, - have we to do with it? I protest ‘fore Heaven—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, sir, and what do you protest?’ my champion retorted, turning to him - with stern disdain. - </p> - <p> - ‘Silence!’ cried the king who had listened almost bewildered. ‘Silence! By - God, gentlemen,’ he continued, his eye travelling round the circle with a - sparkle of royal anger in it not unworthy of his crown, ‘you forget - yourselves. I will have none of this quarrelling in my presence or out of - it. I lost Quelus and Maugiron that way, and loss enough, and I will have - none of it, I say! M. de Bruhl,’ he added, standing erect, and looking for - the moment, with all his paint and frippery, a king, ‘M. de Bruhl, repeat - your story.’ - </p> - <p> - The feelings with which I listened to this controversy may be imagined. - Devoured in turn by hope and fear as now one side and now the other seemed - likely to prevail, I confronted at one moment the gloom of the dungeon, - and at another tasted the air of freedom, which had never seemed so sweet - before. Strong as these feelings were, however, they gave way to curiosity - at this point; when I heard Bruhl called, and saw him come forward at the - king’s command. Knowing this man to be himself guilty, I marvelled with - what face he would present himself before all those eyes, and from what - depths of impudence he could draw supplies in such an emergency. - </p> - <p> - I need not have troubled myself, however, for he was fully equal to the - occasion. His high colour and piercing black eyes met the gaze of friend - and foe alike without flinching. Dressed well and elegantly, he wore his - raven hair curled in the mode, and looked alike gay, handsome, and - imperturbable. If there was a suspicion of coarseness about his bulkier - figure, as he stood beside M. d’Agen, who was the courtier perfect and - point devise, it went to the scale of sincerity, seeing that men naturally - associate truth with strength. - </p> - <p> - ‘I know no more than this, sire,’ he said easily; ‘that, happening to - cross the Parvis at the moment of the murder, I heard Father Antoine - scream. He uttered four words only, in the tone of a man in mortal peril. - They were’—and here the speaker looked for an instant at me—‘Ha! - Marsac! A moi!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Indeed!’ M. de Rambouillet said, after looking to the king for - permission. ‘And that was all? You saw nothing?’ - </p> - <p> - Bruhl shook his head. ‘It was too dark,’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘And heard no more?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Do I understand, then,’ the Marquis continued slowly, ‘that M. de Marsac - is arrested because the priest—God rest his soul!—cried to him - for help?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘For help?’ M. de Retz exclaimed fiercely. - </p> - <p> - ‘For help?’ said the king, surprised. And at that the most; ludicrous - change fell upon the faces of all. The king looked puzzled, the Duke of - Nevers smiled, the Duke of Mercoeur laughed aloud. Crillon cried - boisterously, ‘Good hit!’ and the majority, who wished no better than to - divine the winning party, grinned broadly, whether they would or no. - </p> - <p> - To Marshal Retz, however, and Bruhl, that which to everyone else seemed an - amusing retort had a totally different aspect; while the former turned - yellow with chagrin and came near to choking, the latter looked as - chapfallen and startled as if his guilt; had been that moment brought home - to him. Assured by the tone of the monk’s voice—which must, indeed, - have thundered in his ears—that my name was uttered in denunciation - by one who thought me his assailant, he had chosen to tell the truth - without reflecting that words, so plain to him, might; bear a different - construction when repeated. - </p> - <p> - ‘Certainly the words seem ambiguous,’ Henry muttered. - </p> - <p> - ‘But it was Marsac killed him,’ Retz cried in a rage. - </p> - <p> - ‘It is for some evidence of that we are waiting,’ my champion answered - suavely. - </p> - <p> - The Marshal looked helplessly at Nevers and Mercoeur, who commonly took - part with him; but apparently those noblemen had not been primed for this - occasion. They merely shook their heads and smiled. In the momentary - silence which followed, while all looked curiously at Bruhl, who could not - conceal his mortification, M. d’Agen stepped forward. - </p> - <p> - ‘If your Majesty will permit me,’ he said, a malicious simper crossing his - handsome face—I had often remarked his extreme dislike for Bruhl - without understanding it—‘I think I can furnish some evidence more - to the point than that; to which M. de Bruhl has with so much fairness - restricted himself.’ He then went on to state that he had had the honour - of being in my company at the time of the murder; and he added, besides, - so many details as to exculpate me to the satisfaction of any candid - person. - </p> - <p> - The king nodded. ‘That settles the matter,’ he said, with a sigh of - relief. ‘You think so, Mercoeur, do you not? Precisely. Villequier, see - that the order respecting M. de Marsac is cancelled.’ - </p> - <p> - M. de Retz could not control his wrath on hearing this direction given. - ‘At this rate,’ he cried recklessly, ‘we shall have few priests left here! - We have got a bad name at Blois, as it is!’ - </p> - <p> - For a moment all in the circle held their breath, while the king’s eyes - flashed fire at this daring allusion to the murder of the Duke de Guise, - and his brother the Cardinal. But it was Henry’s misfortune to be ever - indulgent in the wrong place, and severe when severity was either unjust - or impolitic. He recovered himself with an effort, and revenged himself - only by omitting to invite the Marshal, who was now trembling in his - shoes, to join his riding-party. - </p> - <p> - The circle broke up amid some excitement. I stood on one side with M. - d’Agen, while the king and his immediate following passed out, and, - greatly embarrassed as I was by the civil congratulating of many who would - have seen me hang with equal goodwill, I was sharp enough to see that - something was brewing between Bruhl and Marshal Retz, who stood back - conversing in low tones. I was not surprised, therefore, when the former - made his way towards me through the press which filled the antechamber, - and with a lowering brow requested a word with me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Certainly,’ I said, watching him narrowly, for I knew him to be both - treacherous and a bully. ‘Speak on, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You have balked me once and again,’ he rejoined, in a voice which shook a - little, as did the fingers with which he stroked his waxed moustache. - ‘There is no need of words between us. I, with one sword besides, will - to-morrow at noon keep the bridge at Chaverny, a league from here. It is - an open country. Possibly your pleasure may lead you to ride that way with - a friend?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You may depend upon me, sir,’ I answered, bowing low, and feeling - thankful that the matter was at length to be brought to a fair and open - arbitration. ‘I will be there—and in person. For my deputy last - night,’ I added, searching his face with a steadfast eye, ‘seems to have - been somewhat unlucky.’ - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXI. TWO WOMEN. - </h2> - <p> - Out of compliment, and to show my gratitude, I attended M. de Rambouillet - home to his lodging, and found him as much pleased with himself, and - consequently with me, as I was with him. For the time, indeed, I came near - to loving him; and, certainly, he was a man of high and patriotic feeling, - and of skill and conduct to match. But he lacked that touch of nature and - that power of sympathising with others which gave to such men as M. de - Rosny and the king, my master, their peculiar charm; though after what I - have related of him in the last chapter it does not lie in my mouth to - speak ill of him. And, indeed, he was a good man. - </p> - <p> - When I at last reached my lodging, I found a surprise awaiting me in the - shape of a note which had just arrived no one knew how. If the manner of - its delivery was mysterious, however, its contents were brief and - sufficiently explicit; for it; ran thus: ‘SIR, BY MEETING ME THREE HOURS - AFTER NOON IN THE SQUARE BEFORE THE HOUSE OF THE LITTLE SISTERS YOU WILL - DO A SERVICE AT ONCE TO YOURSELF AND TO THE UNDERSIGNED, MARIE DE BRUHL.’ - </p> - <p> - That was all, written in a feminine character, yet it was enough to - perplex me. Simon, who had manifested the liveliest joy at my escape, - would have had me treat it as I had treated the invitation to the Parvis - of the Cathedral; ignore it altogether I mean. But I was of a different - mind, and this for three reasons, among others: that the request was - straightforward, the time early, and the place sufficiently public to be - an unlikely theatre for violence, though well fitted for an interview to - which the world at large was not invited. Then, too, the square lay little - more than a bowshot from my lodging, though on the farther side of the Rue - St. Denys. - </p> - <p> - Besides, I could conceive many grounds which Madame de Bruhl might have - for seeing me; of which some touched me nearly. I disregarded Simon’s - warnings, therefore, and repaired at the time appointed to the place—a - clean, paved square a little off the Rue St. Denys, and entered from the - latter by a narrow passage. It was a spot pleasantly convenient for - meditation, but overlooked on one side by the House of the Little Sisters; - in which, as I guessed afterwards, madame must have awaited me, for the - square when I entered it was empty, yet in a moment, though no one came in - from the street, she stood beside me. She wore a mask and long cloak. The - beautiful hair and perfect complexion, which had filled me with so much - admiration at our first meeting in her house, were hidden, but I saw - enough of her figure and carriage to be sure that it was Madame de Bruhl - and no other. - </p> - <p> - She began by addressing me in a tone of bitterness, for which I was not - altogether unprepared. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, sir,’ she exclaimed, her voice trembling with anger, ‘you are - satisfied, I hope, with your work?’ - </p> - <p> - I expected this and had my answer ready. ‘I am not aware, Madame,’ I said, - ‘that I have cause to reproach myself. But, however that may be, I trust - you have summoned me for some better purpose than to chide me for - another’s fault; though it was my voice which brought it to light.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Why did you shame me publicly?’ she retorted, thrusting her handkerchief - to her lips and withdrawing it again with a passionate gesture. - </p> - <p> - ‘Madame,’ I answered patiently—I was full of pity for her, ‘consider - for a moment the wrong your husband did me and how small and inadequate - was the thing I did to him in return.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To him!’ she ejaculated so fiercely that I started. ‘It was to me—to - me you did it! What had I done that you should expose me to the ridicule - of those who know no pity, and the anger of one as merciless? What had I - done, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - I shook my head sorrowfully. ‘So far, madame,’ I answered, ‘I allow I owe - you reparation, and I will make it should it ever be in my power. Nay, I - will say more,’ I continued, for the tone in which she spoke had wrung my - heart. ‘In one point I strained the case against your husband. To the best - of my belief he abducted the lady who was in my charge, not for the love - of her, but for political reasons, and as the agent of another.’ - </p> - <p> - She gasped. ‘What?’ she cried. ‘Say that again!’ - </p> - <p> - As I complied she tore off her mask and gazed into my face with straining - eyes and parted lips. I saw then how much she was changed, even in these - few days—how pale and worn were her cheeks, how dark the circles - round her eyes. ‘Will you swear to it?’ she said at last, speaking with - uncontrollable eagerness, while she laid a hand which shook with - excitement on my arm. Will you swear to it, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is true,’ I answered steadfastly. I might have added that after the - event her husband had so treated mademoiselle as to lead her to fear the - worst. But I refrained, feeling that it was no part of my duty to come - between husband and wife. - </p> - <p> - She clasped her hands, and for a moment looked passionately upwards, as - though she were giving thanks to Heaven; while the flesh of health and - loveliness which I had so much admired returned, and illumined her face in - a wonderful manner. She seemed, in truth and for the moment, transformed. - Her blue eyes filled with tears, her lips moved; nor have I ever seen - anything bear so near a resemblance to those pictures of the Virgin Mary - which Romans worship as madame did then. - </p> - <p> - The change, however, was as evanescent as it was admirable. In an instant - she seemed to collapse. She struck her hands to her face and moaned, and I - saw tears, which she vainly strove to restrain, dropping through her - fingers. ‘Too late!’ she murmured, in a tone of anguish which wrung my - heart. ‘Alas, you robbed me of one man, you give me back another. I know - him now for what he is. If he did not love her then, he does now. It is - too late!’ - </p> - <p> - She seemed so much overcome that I assisted her to reach a bench which - stood against the wall a few paces away; nor, I confess, was it without - difficulty and much self-reproach that I limited myself to those prudent - offices only which her state and my duty required. To console her on the - subject of her husband was impossible; to ignore him, and so to console - her, a task which neither my discretion nor my sense of honour, though - sorely tried, permitted me to undertake. - </p> - <p> - She presently recovered and, putting on her mask again, said hurriedly - that she had still a word to say to me. ‘You have treated me honestly,’ - she continued, ‘and, though I have no cause to do anything but hate you, I - say in return, look to yourself! You escaped last night—I know all, - for it was my velvet knot—which I had made thinking to send it to - you to procure this meeting—that he used as a lure. But he is not - yet at the end of his resources. Look to yourself, therefore.’ - </p> - <p> - I thought of the appointment I had made with him for the morrow, but I - confined myself to thanking her, merely saying, as I bowed over the hand - she resigned to me in token of farewell, ‘Madame, I am grateful. I am - obliged to you both for your warning and your forgiveness.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Bending her head coldly she drew away her hand. At that moment, as I - lifted my eyes, I saw something which for an instant rooted me to the spot - with astonishment. In the entrance of the passage which led to the Rue St. - Denys two people were standing, watching us. The one was Simon Fleix, and - the other, a masked woman, a trifle below the middle height, and clad in a - riding-coat, was Mademoiselle de la Vire! - </p> - <p> - I knew her in a moment. But the relief I experienced on seeing her safe - and in Blois was not unmixed with annoyance that Simon Fleix should have - been so imprudent as to parade her unnecessarily in the street. I felt - something of confusion also on my own account; for I could not tell how - long she and her escort had been watching me. And these two feelings were - augmented when, after turning to pay a final salute to Madame de Bruhl, I - looked again towards the passage and discovered that mademoiselle and her - squire were gone. - </p> - <p> - Impatient as I was, I would not seem to leave madame rudely or without - feeling, after the consideration she had shown me in her own sorrow; and - accordingly I waited uncovered until she disappeared within the ‘Little - Sisters.’ Then I started eagerly towards my lodging, thinking I might yet - overtake mademoiselle before she entered. I was destined to meet, however, - with another though very pertinent hindrance. As I passed from the Rue St. - Denys into the quiet of my street I heard a voice calling my name, and, - looking back, saw M. de Rambouillet’s equerry, a man deep in his - confidence, running after me. He brought a message from his master, which - he begged me to consider of the first importance. - </p> - <p> - ‘The Marquis would not trust it to writing, sir,’ he continued, drawing me - aside into a corner where we were conveniently retired, ‘but he made me - learn it by heart. “Tell M. de Marsac,” said he, “that that which he was - left in Blois to do must be done quickly, or not at all. There is - something afoot in the other camp, I am not sure what. But now is the time - to knock in the nail. I know his zeal, and I depend upon him.”’ - </p> - <p> - An hour before I should have listened to this message with serious doubts - and misgivings. Now, acquainted with mademoiselle’s arrival, I returned M. - de Rambouillet an answer in the same strain, and parting civilly from - Bertram, who was a man I much esteemed, I hastened on to my lodgings, - exulting in the thought that the hour and the woman were come at last, and - that before the dawn of another day I might hope, all being well, to - accomplish with honour to myself and advantage to others the commission - which M. de Rosny had entrusted to me. - </p> - <p> - I must not deny that, mingled with this, was some excitement at the - prospect of seeing mademoiselle again. I strove to conjure up before me as - I mounted the stairs the exact expression of her face as I had last seen - it bending from the window at Rosny; to the end that I might have some - guide for my future conduct, and might be less likely to fall into the - snare of a young girl’s coquetry. But I could come now, as then, to no - satisfactory or safe conclusion, and only felt anew the vexation I had - experienced on losing the velvet knot, which she had given me on that - occasion. - </p> - <p> - I knocked at the door of the rooms which I had reserved for her, and which - were on the floor below my own; but I got no answer. Supposing that Simon - had taken her upstairs, I mounted quickly, not doubting I should find her - there. Judge of my surprise and dismay when I found that room also empty, - save for the lackey whom M. de Rambouillet had lent me! - </p> - <p> - ‘Where are they?’ I asked the man, speaking sharply, and standing with my - hand on the door. - </p> - <p> - ‘The lady and her woman, sir?’ he answered, coming forward. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, yes!’ I cried impatiently, a sudden fear at my heart. - </p> - <p> - She went out immediately after her arrival with Simon Fleix, sir, and has - not yet returned,’ he answered. - </p> - <p> - The words were scarcely out of his mouth before I heard several persons - enter the passage below and begin to ascend the stairs. I did not; doubt - that mademoiselle and the lad had come home another way and, been somehow - detained; and I turned with a sigh of relief to receive them. But when the - persons whose steps I had heard appeared, they proved to be only M. de - Rosny’s equerry, stout, burly, and bright-eyed as ever, and two armed - servants. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXII. ‘LA FEMME DISPOSE.’ - </h2> - <p> - The moment the equerry’s foot touched the uppermost stair I advanced upon - him. ‘Where is your mistress, man?’ I said. ‘Where is Mademoiselle de la - Vire? Be quick, tell me what you have done with her.’ - </p> - <p> - His face fell amazingly. ‘Where is she?’ he answered, faltering between - surprise and alarm at my sudden onslaught. ‘Here, she should be. I left - her here not an hour ago. Mon Dieu! Is she not here now?’ - </p> - <p> - His alarm increased mine tenfold. ‘No!’ I retorted, ‘she is not! She is - gone! And you—what business had you, in the fiend’s name, to leave - her here, alone and unprotected? Tell me that!’ - </p> - <p> - He leaned against the balustrade, making no attempt to defend himself, and - seemed, in his sudden terror, anything but the bold, alert fellow who had - ascended the stairs two minutes before. ‘I was a fool,’ he groaned. ‘I saw - your man Simon here; and Fanchette, who is as good as a man, was with her - mistress. And I went to stable the horses. I thought no evil. And now—My - God!’ he added, suddenly straightening himself, while his face grew hard - and grim, ‘I am undone! My master will never forgive me!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Did you come straight here?’ I said, considering that, after all, he was - no more in fault than I had been on a former occasion. - </p> - <p> - ‘We went first to M. de Rosny’s lodging,’ he answered, ‘where we found - your message telling us to come here. We came on without dismounting.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle may have gone back, and be there,’ I said. ‘It is possible. - Do you stay here and keep a good look-out, and I will go and see. Let one - of your men come with me.’ - </p> - <p> - He uttered a brief assent; being a man as ready to take as to give orders, - and thankful now for any suggestion which held out a hope of - mademoiselle’s safety. Followed by the servant he selected, I ran down the - stairs, and in a moment was hurrying along the Rue St. Denys. The day was - waning. The narrow streets and alleys were already dark, but the air of - excitement which I had noticed in the morning still marked the townsfolk, - of whom a great number were strolling abroad, or standing in doorways - talking to their gossips. Feverishly anxious as I was, I remarked the - gloom which dwelt on all faces; but as I set it down to the king’s - approaching departure, and besides was intent on seeing that those we - sought did not by any chance pass us in the crowd, I thought little of it. - Five minutes’ walking brought us to M. de Rosny’s lodging. There I knocked - at the door; impatiently, I confess, and with little hope of success. But, - to my surprise, barely an instant elapsed before the door opened, and I - saw before me Simon Fleix! - </p> - <p> - Discovering who it was, he cowered back, with a terrified face, and - retreated to the wall with his arm raised. - </p> - <p> - ‘You scoundrel!’ I exclaimed, restraining myself with difficulty. ‘Tell me - this moment where Mademoiselle de la Vire is! Or, by Heaven, I shall - forget what my mother owed to you, and do you a mischief!’ - </p> - <p> - For an instant he glared at me viciously, with all his teeth exposed, as - though he meant to refuse—and more. Then he thought better of it, - and, raising his hand, pointed sulkily upwards. - </p> - <p> - ‘Go before me and knock at the door,’ I said, tapping the hilt of my - dagger with meaning. - </p> - <p> - Cowed by my manner, he obeyed, and led the way to the room in which M. de - Rambouillet had surprised us on a former occasion. Here he stopped at the - door and knocked gently; on which a sharp voice inside bade us enter. I - raised the latch and did so, closing the door behind me. - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle, still wearing her riding-coat, sat in a chair before the - hearth, on which a newly kindled fire sputtered and smoked. She had her - back to me, and did not turn on my entrance, but continued to toy in an - absent manner with the strings of the mask which lay in her lap. Fanchette - stood bolt upright behind her, with her elbows squared and her hands - clasped; in such an attitude that I guessed the maid had been expressing - her strong dissatisfaction with this latest whim of her mistress, and - particularly with mademoiselle’s imprudence in wantonly exposing herself, - with so inadequate a guard as Simon, in a place where she had already - suffered so much. I was confirmed in this notion on seeing the woman’s - harsh countenance clear at sight of me; though the churlish nod, which was - all the greeting she bestowed on me, seemed to betoken anything but favour - or good-will. She touched her mistress on the shoulder, however, and said, - ‘M. de Marsac is here.’ - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle turned her head and looked at me languidly, without stirring - in her chair or removing the foot she, was warming. ‘Good evening,’ she - said. - </p> - <p> - The greeting seemed so brief and so commonplace, ignoring, as it did, both - the pains and anxiety to which she had just put me and the great purpose - for which we were here—to say nothing of that ambiguous parting - which she must surely remember as well as I—that the words I had - prepared died on my lips, and I looked at her in honest confusion. All her - small face was pale except her lips. Her brow was dark, her eyes were hard - as well as weary. And not words only failed me as I looked at her, but - anger; having mounted the stairs hot foot to chide, I felt on a sudden—despite - my new cloak and scabbard, my appointment, and the same I had made at - Court—the same consciousness of age; and shabbiness and poverty - which had possessed me in her presence from the beginning. I muttered, - ‘Good evening, mademoiselle,’ and that was all I could say—I who had - frightened the burly Maignan a few minutes before! - </p> - <p> - Seeing, I have no doubt, the effect she produced on me, she maintained for - some time an embarrassing silence. At length she said, frigidly, ‘Perhaps - M. de Marsac will sit, Fanchette. Place a chair for him. I am afraid, - however, that after his successes at Court he may find our reception - somewhat cold. But we are only from the country,’ she added, looking at me - askance, with a gleam of anger in her eyes. - </p> - <p> - I thanked her huskily, saying that I would not sit, as I could not stay. - ‘Simon Fleix,’ I continued, finding my voice with difficulty, ‘has, I am - afraid, caused you some trouble by bringing you to this house instead of - telling you that I had made preparation for you at my lodgings.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It was not Simon Fleix’s fault,’ she replied curtly. ‘I prefer these - rooms. They are more convenient.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘They are, perhaps, more convenient,’ I rejoined humbly, ‘But I have to - think of safety, mademoiselle, as you know. At my house I have a competent - guard, and can answer for your being unmolested.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You can send your guard here,’ she said with a royal air. - </p> - <p> - ‘But, mademoiselle—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Is it not enough that I have said that I prefer these rooms?’ she replied - sharply, dropping her mask on her lap and looking round at me in - undisguised displeasure. ‘Are you deaf, sir? Let me tell you, I am in no - mood for argument. I am tired with riding. I prefer these rooms, and that - is enough!’ - </p> - <p> - Nothing could exceed the determination with which she said these words, - unless it were the malicious pleasure in thwarting my wishes which made - itself seen through the veil of assumed indifference. I felt myself - brought up with a vengeance, and in a manner the most provoking that could - be conceived. But opposition so childish, so utterly wanton, by exciting - my indignation, had presently the effect of banishing the peculiar - bashfulness I felt in her presence, and recalling me to my duty. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle,’ I said firmly, looking at her with a fixed countenance, - ‘pardon me if I speak plainly. This is no time for playing with straws. - The men from whom you escaped once are as determined and more desperate - now. By this time they probably know of your arrival. Do, then, as I ask, - I pray and beseech you. Or this time I may lack the power, though never - the will, to save you.’ - </p> - <p> - Wholly ignoring my appeal, she looked into my face—for by this time - I had advanced to her side—with a whimsical smile. ‘You are really - much improved in manner since I last saw you,’ she said. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle!’ I replied, baffled and repelled. ‘What do you mean?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What I say,’ she answered, flippantly. ‘But it was to be expected.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘For shame!’ I cried, provoked almost beyond bearing by her ill-timed - raillery, ‘will you never be serious until you have ruined us and - yourself? I tell you this house is not safe for you! It is not safe for - me! I cannot bring my men to it, for there is not room for them. If you - have any spark of consideration, of gratitude, therefore—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Gratitude!’ she exclaimed, swinging her mask slowly to and fro by a - ribbon, while she looked up at me as though my excitement amused her. - ‘Gratitude—‘tis a very pretty phrase, and means much; but it is for - those who serve us faithfully, M. de Marsac, and not for others. You - receive so many favours, I am told, and are so successful at Court, that I - should not be justified in monopolising your services.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But, mademoiselle—’ I said in a low tone. And there I stopped. I - dared not proceed. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, sir,’ she answered, looking up at she after a moment’s silence, and - ceasing on a sudden to play with her toy, ‘what is it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You spoke of favours,’ I continued, with an effort. ‘I never received but - one from a lady. That was at Rosny, and from your hand.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘From my hand?’ she answered, with an air of cold surprise. - </p> - <p> - ‘It was so, mademoiselle.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You have fallen into some strange mistake, sir,’ she replied, rousing - herself, and looking at me indifferently ‘I never gave you a favour.’ - </p> - <p> - I bowed low. ‘If you say you did not, mademoiselle, that is enough,’ I - answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, but do not let me do you an injustice, M. de Marsac,’ she rejoined, - speaking more quickly and in an altered tone. ‘If you can show me the - favour I gave you, I shall, of course, be convinced. Seeing is believing, - you know,’ she added, with a light nervous laugh, and a gesture of - something like shyness. - </p> - <p> - If I had not sufficiently regretted my carelessness, and loss of the bow - at the time, I did so now. I looked at her in silence, and saw her face, - that had for a moment shown signs of feeling, almost of shame, grow slowly - hard again. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, sir?’ she said impatiently. ‘The proof is easy.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It was taken from me; I believe, by M. de Rosny,’ I answered lamely, - wondering what ill-luck had led her to put the question and press it to - this point. - </p> - <p> - ‘It was taken from you!’ she exclaimed, rising and confronting me with the - utmost suddenness, while her eyes flashed, and her little hand crumpled - the mask beyond future usefulness. ‘It was taken from you, sir!’ she - repeated, her voice and her whole frame trembling with anger and disdain. - ‘Then I thank you, I prefer my version. Yours is impossible. For let me - tell you, when Mademoiselle de la Vire does confer a favour, it will be on - a man with the power and the wit—and the constancy, to keep it, even - from M. de Rosny!’ - </p> - <p> - Her scorn hurt, though it did not anger me. I felt it to be in a measure - deserved, and raged against myself rather than against her. But aware - through all of the supreme importance of placing her in safety, I - subjected my immediate feelings to the exigencies of the moment and - stooped to an argument which would, I thought, have weight though private - pleading failed. - </p> - <p> - ‘Putting myself aside, mademoiselle,’ I said, with more formality than I - had yet used, ‘there is one consideration which must weigh with you. The - king—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The king!’ she cried, interrupting me violently, her face hot with - passion and her whole person instinct with stubborn self-will. ‘I shall - not see the king!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You will not see the king?’ I repeated in amazement. - </p> - <p> - ‘No, I will not!’ she answered, in a whirl of anger, scorn, and - impetuosity. ‘There! I will not! I have been made a toy and a tool long - enough, M. de Marsac,’ she continued, ‘and I will serve others’ ends no - more. I have made up my mind. Do not talk to me; you will do no good, sir. - I would to Heaven,’ she added bitterly, ‘I had stayed at Chize and never - seen this place!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But, mademoiselle,’ I said, ‘you have not thought—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Thought!’ she exclaimed, shutting her small white teeth so viciously I - all but recoiled. ‘I have thought enough. I am sick of thought. I am going - to act now. I will be a puppet no longer. You may take me to the castle by - force if you will; but you cannot make me speak.’ - </p> - <p> - I looked at her in the utmost dismay, and astonishment; being unable at - first to believe that a woman who had gone through so much, had run so - many risks, and ridden so many miles for a purpose, would, when all was - done and the hour come, decline to carry out her plan. I could not believe - it, I say, at first; and I tried arguments, and entreaties without stint, - thinking that she only asked to be entreated or coaxed. - </p> - <p> - But I found prayers and even threats breath wasted upon her; and beyond - these I would not go. I know I have been blamed by some and ridiculed by - others for not pushing the matter farther; but those who have stood face - to face with a woman of spirit—a woman whose very frailty and - weakness fought for her—will better understand the difficulties with - which I had to contend and the manner in which conviction was at last - borne in on my mind. I had never before confronted stubbornness of this - kind. As mademoiselle said again and again, I might force her to Court, - but I could not make her speak. - </p> - <p> - When I had tried every means of persuasion, and still found no way of - overcoming her resolution the while Fanchette looked on with a face of - wood, neither aiding me nor taking part against me—I lost, I - confess, in the chagrin of the moment that sense of duty which had - hitherto animated me; and though my relation to mademoiselle should have - made me as careful as ever of her safety, even in her own despite, I left - her at last in anger and went out without saying another word about - removing her—a thing which was still in my power. I believe a very - brief reflection would have recalled me to myself and my duty; but the - opportunity was not given me, for I had scarcely reached the head of the - stairs before Fanchette came after me, and called to me in a whisper to - stop. - </p> - <p> - She held a taper in her hand, and this she raised to my face, smiling at - the disorder which she doubtless read there. ‘Do you say that this house - is not safe?’ she asked abruptly, lowering the light as she spoke. - </p> - <p> - ‘You have tried a house in Blois before?’ I replied with the same - bluntness. ‘You should know as well as I, woman.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘She must be taken from here, then,’ she answered, nodding her head, - cunningly. ‘I can persuade her. Do you send for your people, and be here - in half an hour. It may take me that time to wheedle her. But I shall do - it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then listen,’ I said eagerly, seizing the opportunity and her sleeve and - drawing her farther from the door. ‘If you can persuade her to that, you - can persuade to all I wish. Listen, my friend,’ I continued, sinking my - voice still lower. ‘If she will see the king for only ten minutes, and - tell him what she knows, I will give you—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ the woman asked suddenly and harshly, drawing at the same time her - sleeve from my hand. - </p> - <p> - ‘Fifty crowns,’ I replied, naming in my desperation a sum which would seem - a fortune to a person in her position. ‘Fifty crowns down, the moment the - interview is over.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And for that you would have me sell her!’ the woman cried with a rude - intensity of passion which struck me like a blow. ‘For shame! For shame, - man! You persuaded her to leave her home and her friends, and the country - where she was known; and now you would have me sell her! Shame on you! - Go!’ she added scornfully. ‘Go this instant and get your men. The king, - say you? The king! I tell you I would not have her finger ache to save all - your kings!’ - </p> - <p> - She flounced away with that, and I retired crestfallen; wondering much at - the fidelity which Providence, doubtless for the well-being of the gentle, - possibly for the good of all, has implanted in the humble. Finding Simon, - to whom I had scarce patience to speak, waiting on the stairs below, I - despatched him to Maignan, to bid him come to me with his men. Meanwhile I - watched the house myself until their arrival, and then, going up, found - that Fanchette had been as good as her word. Mademoiselle, with a sullen - mien, and a red spot on either cheek, consented to descend, and, preceded - by a couple of links, which Maignan had thoughtfully provided, was - escorted safely to my lodgings; where I bestowed her in the rooms below my - own, which I had designed for her. - </p> - <p> - At the door she turned and bowed to me, her face on fire. - </p> - <p> - ‘So far, sir, you have got your way,’ she said, breathing quickly. ‘Do not - flatter yourself, however, that you will get it farther—even by - bribing my woman!’ - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAST VALOIS. - </h2> - <p> - I stood for a few moments on the stairs, wondering what I should do in an - emergency to which the Marquis’s message of the afternoon attached so - pressing a character. Had it not been for that I might have waited until - morning, and felt tolerably certain of finding mademoiselle in a more - reasonable mood then. But as it was I dared not wait. I dared not risk the - delay, and I came quickly to the conclusion that the only course open to - me was to go at once to M. de Rambouillet and tell him frankly how the - matter stood. - </p> - <p> - Maignan had posted one of his men at the open doorway leading into the - street, and fixed his own quarters on the landing at the top, whence he - could overlook an intruder without being seen himself. Satisfied with the - arrangement, I left Rambouillet’s man to reinforce him, and took with me - Simon Fleix, of whose conduct in regard to mademoiselle I entertained the - gravest doubts. - </p> - <p> - The night, I found on reaching the street, was cold, the sky where it was - visible between the eaves being bright with stars. A sharp wind was - blowing, too, compelling us to wrap our cloaks round us and hurry on at a - pace which agreed well with the excitement of my thoughts. Assured that - had mademoiselle been complaisant I might have seen my mission - accomplished within the hour, it was impossible I should not feel - impatient with one who, to gratify a whim, played with the secrets of a - kingdom as if they were counters, and risked in passing ill-humour the - results of weeks of preparation. And I was impatient, and with her. But my - resentment fell so far short of the occasion that I wondered uneasily at - my own easiness, and felt more annoyed with myself for failing to be - properly annoyed with her, than inclined to lay the blame where it was - due. It was in vain I told myself contemptuously that she was a woman and - that women were not accountable. I felt that the real secret and motive of - my indulgence lay, not in this, but in the suspicion, which her reference - to the favour given me on my departure from Rosny had converted almost - into a certainty, that I was myself the cause of her sudden ill-humour. - </p> - <p> - I might have followed this train of thought farther, and to very pertinent - conclusions. But on reaching M. de Rambouillet’s lodging I was diverted - from it by the abnormally quiet aspect of the house, on the steps of which - half a dozen servants might commonly be seen lounging. Now the doors were - closed, no lights shone through the windows, and the hall sounded empty - and desolate when I knocked. Not a lackey hurried to receive me even then; - but the slipshod tread of the old porter, as he came with a lantern to - open, alone broke the silence. I waited eagerly wondering what all this - could mean; and when the man at last opened, and, recognising my face, - begged my pardon if he had kept me waiting I asked him impatiently what - was the matter. - </p> - <p> - ‘And where is the Marquis?’ I added, stepping inside to be out of the - wind, and loosening my cloak. - </p> - <p> - ‘Have you not heard, sir?’ the man asked, holding up his lantern to my - face. He was an old, wizened, lean fellow. ‘It is a break-up, sir, I am - afraid, this time.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A break-up?’ I rejoined, peevishly. ‘Speak out, man! What is the matter? - I hate mysteries.’ - </p> - <p> - You have not heard the news, sir? That the Duke of Mercoeur and Marshal - Retz, with all their people, left Blois this afternoon?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No?’ I answered, somewhat startled. ‘Whither are they gone?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To Paris, it is said, sir,—to join the League.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But do you mean that they have deserted the king?’ I asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘For certain, sir!’ he answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Not the Duke of Mercoeur?’ I exclaimed. ‘Why, man, he is the king’s - brother-in-law. He owes everything to him.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, he is gone, sir,’ the old man answered positively. ‘The news was - brought to M. le Marquis about four o’clock, or a little after. He got his - people together, and started after them to try and persuade them to - return. Or, so it is said.’ - </p> - <p> - As quickly as I could, I reviewed the situation in my mind. If this - strange news were true, and men like Mercoeur, who had every reason to - stand by the king, as well as men like Retz, who had long been suspected - of disaffection, were abandoning the Court, the danger must be coming - close indeed. The king must feel his throne already tottering, and be - eager to grasp at any means of supporting it. Under such circumstances it - seemed to be my paramount duty to reach him; to gain his ear if possible, - and at all risks; that I and not Bruhl, Navarre not Turenne, might profit - by the first impulse of self-preservation. - </p> - <p> - Bidding the porter shut his door and keep close, I hurried to the Castle, - and was presently more than confirmed in my resolution. For to my surprise - I found the Court in much the same state as M. de Rambouillet’s house. - There were double guards indeed at the gates, who let me pass after - scrutinising me narrowly; but the courtyard, which should have been at - this hour ablaze with torches and crowded with lackeys and grooms, was a - dark wilderness, in which half a dozen links trembled mournfully. Passing - through the doors I found things within in the same state: the hall ill - lit and desolate; the staircase manned only by a few whispering groups, - who scanned me as I passed; the ante-chambers almost empty, or occupied by - the grey uniforms of the Switzer guards. Where I had looked, to see - courtiers assembling to meet their sovereign and assure him of their - fidelity, I found only gloomy faces, watchful eyes, and mouths ominously - closed. An air of constraint and foreboding rested on all. A single - footstep sounded hollowly. The long corridors, which had so lately rung - with laughter and the rattle of dice, seemed already devoted to the - silence, and desolation which awaited them when the Court should depart. - Where any spoke I caught the name of Guise; and I could have fancied that - his mighty shadow lay upon the place and cursed it. - </p> - <p> - Entering the chamber, I found matters little better there. His Majesty was - not present, nor were any of the Court ladies; but half a dozen gentlemen, - among whom I recognised Revol, one of the King’s secretaries, stood near - the alcove. They looked up on my entrance, as though expecting news, and - then, seeing who it was, looked away again impatiently. The Duke of Nevers - was walking moodily to and fro before one of the windows, his hands - clasped behind his back: while Biron and Crillon, reconciled by the common - peril, talked loudly on the hearth. I hesitated a moment, uncertain how to - proceed, for I was not yet so old at Court as to feel at home there. But, - at last making up my mind, I walked boldly up to Crillon and requested his - good offices to procure me an immediate audience of the king. - </p> - <p> - ‘An audience? Do you mean you want to see him alone?’ he said, raising his - eyebrows and looking whimsically at Biron. - </p> - <p> - ‘That is my petition, M. de Crillon,’ I answered firmly, though my heart - sank. ‘I am here on M. de Rambouillet’s business, and I need to see his - Majesty forthwith.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, that is straightforward,’ he replied, clapping me on the shoulder. - ‘And you shall see him. In coming to Crillon you have come to the right - man. Revol,’ he continued, turning to the secretary, ‘this gentleman bears - a message from M. de Rambouillet to the king. Take him to the closet - without delay, my friend, and announce him. I will be answerable for him.’ - </p> - <p> - But the secretary shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. ‘It is quite - impossible, M. de Crillon,’ he said gravely. ‘Quite impossible at - present.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Impossible! Chut! I do not know the word,’ Crillon retorted rudely. - ‘Come, take him at once, and blame me if ill comes of it. Do you hear?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But his Majesty—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Is at his devotions,’ the secretary said stiffly. - </p> - <p> - ‘His Majesty’s devotions be hanged!’ Crillon rejoined—so loudly that - there was a general titter, and M. de Nevers laughed grimly. ‘Do you - hear?’ the Avennais continued, his face growing redder and his voice - higher, ‘or must I pull your ears, my friend? Take this gentleman to the - closet, I say, and if his Majesty be angry, tell him it was by my order. I - tell you he comes from Rambouillet.’ - </p> - <p> - I do not know whether it was the threat, or the mention of M. de - Rambouillet’s name, which convinced the secretary. But at any rate, after - a moment’s hesitation, he acquiesced. - </p> - <p> - He nodded sullenly to me to follow him, and led the way to a curtain which - masked the door of the closet. I followed him across the chamber, after - muttering a hasty word of acknowledgment to Crillon; and I had as nearly - as possible reached the door when the bustle of some one entering the - chamber caught my ear. I had just time to turn and see that this was - Bruhl, just time to intercept the dark look of chagrin and surprise which - he fixed on me, and then Revol, holding up the curtain, signed to me to - enter. - </p> - <p> - I expected to pass at once into the presence of the king, and had my - reverence ready. Instead, I found myself to my surprise in a small - chamber, or rather passage, curtained at both ends, and occupied by a - couple of guardsmen—members, doubtless, of the Band of the - Forty-Five who rose at my entrance and looked at me dubiously. Their - guard-room, dimly illumined by a lamp of red glass, seemed to me, in spite - of its curtains and velvet bench, and the thick tapestry which kept out - every breath of wholesome air, the most sombre I could imagine. And the - most ill-omened. But I had no time to make any long observation; for - Revol, passing me brusquely, raised the curtain at the other end, and, - with his finger on his lip, bade me by signs to enter. - </p> - <p> - I did so as silently, the heavy scent of perfumes striking me in the face - as I raised a second curtain, and stopped short a pace beyond it; partly - in reverence—because kings love their subjects best at a distance—and - partly in surprise. For the room, or rather that portion of it in which I - stood, was in darkness; only the farther end being illumined by a cold - pale flood of moonlight, which, passing through a high, straight window, - lay in a silvery sheet on the floor. For an instant I thought I was alone; - then I saw, resting against this window, with a hand on either mullion, a - tall figure, having something strange about the head. This peculiarity - presently resolved itself into the turban in which I had once before seen - his Majesty. The king—for he it was—was talking to himself. He - had not heard me enter, and having his back to me remained unconscious of - my presence. - </p> - <p> - I paused in doubt, afraid to advance, anxious to withdraw; yet uncertain - whether I could move again unheard. At this moment while I stood - hesitating, he raised his voice, and his words, reaching my ears, riveted - my attention, so strange and eerie were both they and his tone. ‘They say - there is ill-luck in thirteen,’ he muttered. ‘Thirteen Valois and last!’ - He paused to laugh a wicked, mirthless laugh. ‘Ay,—Thirteenth! And - it is thirteen years since I entered Paris, a crowned King! There were - Quelus and Maugiron and St. Megrin and I—and he, I remember. Ah, - those days, those nights! I would sell my soul to live them again; had I - not sold it long ago in the living them once! We were young then, and - rich, and I was king; and Quelus was an Apollo! He died calling on me to - save him. And Maugiron died, blaspheming God and the saints. And St. - Megrin, he had thirty-four wounds. And he—he is dead too, curse him! - They are all dead, all dead, and it is all over! My God! it is all over, - it is all over, it is all over!’ - </p> - <p> - He repeated the last four words more than a dozen times, rocking himself - to and fro by his hold on the mullions. I trembled as I listened, partly - through fear on my own account should I be discovered, and partly by - reason of the horror of despair and remorse—no, not remorse, regret—which - spoke in his monotonous voice. I guessed that some impulse had led him to - draw the curtain from the window and shade the lamp; and that then, as he - looked down on the moonlit country, the contrast between it and the - vicious, heated atmosphere, heavy with intrigue and worse, in which he had - spent his strength, had forced itself upon his mind. For he presently went - on. - </p> - <p> - ‘France! There it lies! And what will they do with it? Will they cut it up - into pieces, as it was before old Louis XI? Will Mercoeur—curse him! - be the most Christian Duke of Brittany? And Mayenne, by the grace of God, - Prince of Paris and the Upper Seine? Or will the little Prince of Bearn - beat them, and be Henry IV., King of France and Navarre, Protector of the - Churches? Curse him too! He is thirty-six. He is my age. But he is young - and strong, and has all before him. While I—I—oh, my God, have - mercy on me! Have mercy on me, O God in Heaven!’ - </p> - <p> - With the last word he fell on his knees on the step before the window, and - burst into such an agony of unmanly tears and sobbings as I had never - dreamed of or imagined, and least of all in the King of France. Hardly - knowing whether to be more ashamed or terrified, I turned at all risks, - and stealthily lifting the curtain, crept out with infinite care; and - happily with so much good fortune as to escape detection. There was space - enough between the two curtains to admit my body and no more; and here I - stood a short while to collect my thoughts. Then, striking my scabbard - against the wall, as though by accident, and coughing loudly at the same - moment, I twitched the curtain aside with some violence and re-entered, - thinking that by these means I had given him warning enough. - </p> - <p> - But I had not reckoned on the darkness in which the room lay, or the - excitable state in which I had left him. He heard me, indeed, but being - able to see only a tall, indistinct figure approaching him, he took - fright, and falling back against the moonlit window, as though he saw a - ghost, thrust out his hand, gasping at the same time two words, which - sounded to me like ‘Ha! Guise!’ - </p> - <p> - The next instant, discerning that I fell on my knee where I stood, and - came no nearer, he recovered himself with an effort, which his breathing - made very apparent, he asked in an unsteady voice who it was. - </p> - <p> - ‘One of your Majesty’s most faithful servants,’ I answered, remaining on - my knee, and affecting to see nothing. - </p> - <p> - Keeping his face towards me, he sidled to the lamp and strove to withdraw - the shade. But his fingers trembled so violently that it was some time - before he succeeded, and set free the cheerful beams, which, suddenly - filling the room with radiance, disclosed to my wondering eyes, instead of - darkness and the cold gleam of the moon, a profusion of riches, of red - stuffs and gemmed trifles and gilded arms crowded together in reckless - disorder. A monkey chained in one corner began to gibber and mow at me. A - cloak of strange cut, stretched on a wooden stand, deceived me for an - instant into thinking that there was a third person present; while the - table, heaped with dolls and powder-puff’s, dog-collars and sweet-meats, a - mask, a woman’s slipper, a pair of pistols, some potions, a scourge, and - an immense quantity of like litter, had as melancholy an appearance in my - eyes as the king himself, whose disorder the light disclosed without - mercy. His turban was awry, and betrayed the premature baldness of his - scalp. The paint on his cheeks was cracked and stained, and had soiled the - gloves he wore. He looked fifty years old; and in his excitement he had - tugged his sword to the front, whence it refused to be thrust back. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who sent you here?’ he asked, when he had so far recovered his senses as - to recognise me, which he did with great surprise. - </p> - <p> - ‘I am here, sire,’ I answered evasively, ‘to place myself at your - Majesty’s service.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Such loyalty is rare,’ he answered, with a bitter sneer. ‘But stand up, - sir. I suppose I must be thankful for small mercies, and, losing a - Mercoeur, be glad to receive a Marsac.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘By your leave, sire,’ I rejoined hardily, ‘the exchange is not so - adverse. Your Majesty may make another duke when you will. But honest men - are not so easily come by.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘So! so!’ he answered, looking at me with a fierce light in his eyes. ‘You - remind me in season, I may still make and unmake! I am still King of - France? That is so sirrah, is it not?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘God forbid that it should be otherwise!’ I answered earnestly. ‘It is to - lay before your Majesty certain means by which you may give fuller effect - to your wishes that I am here. The King of Navarre desires only, sire—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut!’ he exclaimed impatiently, and with some displeasure, ‘I know - his will better than you, man. But you see,’ he continued cunningly, - forgetting my inferior position as quickly as he had remembered it, - ‘Turenne promises well, too. And Turenne—it is true he may play the - Lorrainer. But if I trust Henry of Navarre, and he prove false to me—’ - </p> - <p> - He did not complete the sentence, but strode to and fro a time or two, his - mind, which had a natural inclination towards crooked courses, bent on - some scheme by which he might play off the one party against the other. - Apparently he was not very successful in finding one, however; or else the - ill-luck with which he had supported the League against the Huguenots - recurred to his mind. For he presently stopped, with a sigh, and came back - to the point. - </p> - <p> - ‘If I knew that Turenne were lying,’ be muttered, ‘then indeed—. But - Rosny promised evidence, and he has sent me none.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is at hand, sire,’ I answered, my heart beginning to beat, ‘Your - Majesty will remember that M. de Rosny honoured me with the task of - introducing it to you.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To be sure,’ he replied, awaking as from a dream, and looking and - speaking eagerly. Matters to-day have driven everything out of my head. - Where is your witness, man? Convince me, and we will act promptly. We will - give them Jarnac and Moncontour over again. Is he outside?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is a woman, sire,’ I made answer, dashed somewhat by his sudden and - feverish alacrity. - </p> - <p> - ‘A woman, eh? You have her here?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, sire,’ I replied, wondering what he would say to my next piece of - information. ‘She is in Blois, she has arrived, but the truth is—I - humbly crave your Majesty’s indulgence—she refuses to come or speak. - I cannot well bring her here by force, and I have sought you, sire, for - the purpose of taking your commands in the matter.’ - </p> - <p> - He stared at me in the utmost astonishment. - </p> - <p> - ‘Is she young?’ he asked after a long pause. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, sire,’ I answered. ‘She is maid of honour to the Princess of - Navarre, and a ward also of the Vicomte de Turenne.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Gad! then she is worth hearing, the little rebel!’ he replied. ‘A ward Of - Turenne’s is she? Ho! ho! And now she will not speak? My cousin of Navarre - now would know how to bring her to her senses, but I have eschewed these - vanities. I might send and have her brought, it is true; but a very little - thing would cause a barricade to-night.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And besides, sire,’ I ventured to add, ‘she is known to Turenne’s people - here, who have once stolen her away. Were she brought to your Majesty with - any degree of openness, they would learn it, and know that the game was - lost.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Which would not suit me,’ he answered, nodding and looking at me - gloomily. ‘They might anticipate our Jarnac; and until we have settled - matters with one or the other our person is not too secure. You must go - and fetch her. She is at your lodging. She must be brought, man.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I will do what you command, sire,’ I answered. ‘But I am greatly afraid - that she will not come.’ - </p> - <p> - He lost his temper at that. ‘Then why, in the devil’s name, have you - troubled me with the matter?’ he cried savagely. ‘God knows—I don’t—why - Rosny employed such a man and such a woman. He might have seen from the - cut of your cloak, sir, which is full six months behind the fashion, that - you could not manage a woman! Was ever such damnable folly heard of in - this world? But it is Navarre’s loss, not mine. It is his loss. And I hope - to Heaven it may be yours too!’ he added fiercely. - </p> - <p> - There was so much in what he said that I bent before the storm, and - accepted with humility blame which was as natural on his part as it was - undeserved on mine. Indeed I could not wonder at his Majesty’s anger; nor - should I have wondered at it in a greater man. I knew that but for - reasons, on which I did not wish to dwell, I should have shared it to the - full, and spoken quite as strongly of the caprice which ruined hopes and - lives for a whim. - </p> - <p> - The king continued for some time to say to me all the hard things he could - think of. Wearied at last by my patience, he paused, and cried angrily. - ‘Well, have you nothing; to say for yourself? Can you suggest nothing?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I dare not mention to your Majesty,’ I said humbly, ‘what seems to me to - be the only alternative.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You mean that I should go to the wench!’ he answered—for he did not - lack quickness. ‘“SE NON VA EL OTERO A MAHOMA, VAYA MAHOMA AL OTERO,” as - Mendoza says. But the saucy quean, to force me to go to her! Did my wife - guess—but there, I will go. By God I will go!’ he added abruptly and - fiercely. ‘I will live to ruin Retz yet! Where is your lodging?’ - </p> - <p> - I told him, wondering much at this flash of the old spirit, which twenty - years before had won him a reputation his later life did nothing to - sustain. - </p> - <p> - ‘Do you know,’ he asked, speaking with sustained energy and clearness, - ‘the door by which M. de Rosny entered to talk with me? Can you find it in - the dark?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, sire,’ I answered, my heart beating high. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then be in waiting there two hours before midnight,’ he replied. ‘Be well - armed, but alone. I shall know how to make the girl speak. I can trust - you, I suppose?’ he added suddenly, stepping nearer to me and looking - fixedly into my eyes. - </p> - <p> - ‘I will answer for your Majesty’s life with my own,’ I replied, sinking on - one knee. - </p> - <p> - ‘I believe you, sir,’ he answered gravely, giving me his hand to kiss, and - then turning away. ‘So be it. Now leave me. You have been here too long - already. Not a word to any one as you value your life.’ - </p> - <p> - I made fitting answer and was leaving him; but when I had my head already - on the curtain, he called me back. ‘In Heaven’s name get a new cloak!’ he - said peevishly, eyeing me all over with his face puckered up. ‘Get a new - cloak, man, the first thing in the morning. It is worse seen from the side - than the front. It would ruin the cleverest courtier of them all!’ - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIV. A ROYAL PERIL. - </h2> - <p> - The elation with which I had heard the king announce his resolution - quickly diminished on cooler reflection. It stood in particular at a very - low ebb as I waited, an hour later, at the little north postern of the - Castle, and, cowering within the shelter of the arch to escape the wind, - debated whether his Majesty’s energy would sustain him to the point of - action, or whether he might not, in one of those fits of treacherous - vacillation which had again and again marred his plans, send those to keep - the appointment who would give a final account of me. The longer I - considered his character the more dubious I grew. The loneliness of the - situation, the darkness, the black front, unbroken by any glimmer of - light, which the Castle presented on this side, and the unusual and gloomy - stillness which lay upon the town, all contributed to increase my - uneasiness. It was with apprehension as well as relief that I caught at - last the sound of footsteps on the stone staircase, and, standing a little - to one side, saw a streak of light appear at the foot of the door. - </p> - <p> - On the latter being partially opened a voice cried my name. I advanced - with caution and showed myself. A brief conversation ensued between two or - three persons who stood within; but in the end, a masked figure, which I - had no difficulty in identifying as the king, stepped briskly out. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are armed?’ he said, pausing a second opposite me. - </p> - <p> - I put back my cloak and showed him, by the light which streamed from the - doorway, that I carried pistols as well as a sword. - </p> - <p> - ‘Good!’ he answered briefly; ‘then let us go. Do you walk on my left hand, - my friend. It is a dark night, is it not?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Very dark, sire,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - He made no answer to this, and we started, proceeding with caution until - we had crossed the narrow bridge, and then with greater freedom and at a - better pace. The slenderness of the attendance at Court that evening, and - the cold wind, which swept even the narrowest streets and drove roisterers - indoors, rendered it unlikely that we should be stopped or molested by any - except professed thieves; and for these I was prepared. The king showed no - inclination to talk; and keeping silence myself out of respect, I had time - to calculate the chances and to consider whether his Majesty would succeed - where I had failed. - </p> - <p> - This calculation, which was not inconsistent with the keenest watchfulness - on my part whenever we turned a corner or passed the mouth of an alley, - was brought to an end by our safe arrival at the house. Briefly - apologising to the king for the meanness and darkness of the staircase, I - begged leave to precede him, and rapidly mounted until I met Maignan. - Whispering to him that all was well, I did not wait to hear his answer, - but, bidding him be on the watch, I led the king on with as much deference - as was possible until we stood at the door of mademoiselle’s apartment, - which I have elsewhere stated to consist of an outer and inner room. The - door was opened by Simon Fleix, and him I promptly sent out. Then, - standing aside and uncovering, I begged the king to enter. - </p> - <p> - He did so, still wearing his hat and mask, and I followed and secured the - door. A lamp hanging from the ceiling diffused an imperfect light through - the room, which was smaller but more comfortable in appearance than that - which I rented overhead. I observed that Fanchette, whose harsh - countenance looked more forbidding than usual, occupied a stool which she - had set in a strange fashion against the Inner door; but I thought no more - of this at the moment, my attention passing quickly to mademoiselle, who - sat crouching before the fire, enveloped in a large outdoor cloak, as if - she felt the cold. Her back was towards us, and she was, or pretended to - be, still ignorant of our presence. With a muttered word I pointed her out - to the king, and went towards her with him. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle, I said in a low voice, ‘Mademoiselle de la Vire! I have the - honour—’ - </p> - <p> - She would not turn, and I stopped. Clearly she heard, but she betrayed - that she did so only by drawing her cloak more closely round her. Primed - by my respect for the king, I touched her lightly on the shoulder. - ‘Mademoiselle!’ I said impatiently, ‘you are not aware of it, but—’ - </p> - <p> - She shook herself free from my hand with so rude a gesture that I broke - off, and stood gazing foolishly at her. The king smiled, and nodding to me - to step back a pace, took the task on himself. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he said - with dignity, ‘I am not accustomed—’ - </p> - <p> - His voice had a magical effect. Before he could add another word she - sprang up as if she had been struck, and faced us, a cry of alarm on her - lips. Simultaneously we both cried out too, for it was not mademoiselle at - all. The woman who confronted us, her hand on her mask, her eyes - glittering through the slits, was of a taller and fuller figure. We stared - at her. Then a lock of bright golden hair which had escaped from the hood - of her cloak gave us the clue. ‘Madame!’ the king cried. - </p> - <p> - ‘Madame de Bruhl!’ I echoed, my astonishment greater than his. - </p> - <p> - Seeing herself known, she began with trembling fingers to undo the - fastenings of her mask; but the king, who had hitherto displayed a - trustfulness I had not expected in him, had taken alarm at sight of her, - as at a thing unlooked for, and of which I had not warned him. ‘How is - this?’ he said harshly, drawing back a pace from her and regarding me with - anger and distrust. ‘Is this some pretty arrangement of yours, sir? Am I - an intruder at an assignation, or is this a trap with M. de Bruhl in the - background? Answer, sirrah!’ he continued, working himself rapidly into a - passion. ‘Which am I to understand is the case?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Neither, sire,’ I answered with as much dignity as I could assume, - utterly surprised and mystified as I was by Madame’s presence. ‘Your - Majesty wrongs Madame de Bruhl as much by the one suspicion as you injure - me by the other. I am equally in the dark with you, sire, and as little - expected to see madame here.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I came, sire,’ she said proudly, addressing herself to the king, and - ignoring me, ‘out of no love to M. de Marsac, but as any person bearing a - message to him might come. Nor can you, sire,’ she added with spirit, - ‘feel half as much surprise at seeing me here, as I at seeing your - Majesty.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I can believe that,’ the king answered drily. ‘I would you had not seen - me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The King of France is seen only when he chooses,’ she replied, curtseying - to the ground. - </p> - <p> - ‘Good,’ he answered. ‘Let it be so, and you will oblige the King of - France, madame. But enough,’ he continued, turning from her to me; ‘since - this is not the lady I came to see, M. de Marsac, where is she?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘In the inner room, sire, I opine,’ I said, advancing to Fanchette with - more misgiving at heart than my manner evinced. ‘Your mistress is here, is - she not?’ I continued, addressing the woman sharply. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, and will not come out,’ she rejoined, sturdily keeping her place. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nonsense!’ I said. ‘Tell her—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You may tell her what you please,’ she replied, refusing to budge an - inch. ‘She can hear.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But, woman!’ I cried impatiently, ‘you do not understand. I MUST speak - with her. I must speak with her at once! On business of the highest - importance.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘As you please,’ she said rudely, still keeping her seat. ‘I have told you - you can speak.’ - </p> - <p> - Perhaps I felt as foolish on this occasion as ever in my life; and surely - never was man placed in a more ridiculous position. After overcoming - numberless obstacles, and escaping as many perils, I had brought the king - here, a feat beyond my highest hopes—only to be baffled and defeated - by a waiting-woman! I stood irresolute; witless and confused; while the - king waited half angry and half amused, and madame kept her place by the - entrance, to which she had retreated. - </p> - <p> - I was delivered from my dilemma by the curiosity which is, providentially - perhaps, a part of woman’s character, and which led mademoiselle to - interfere herself. Keenly on the watch inside, she had heard part of what - passed between us, and been rendered inquisitive by the sound of a strange - man’s voice, and by the deference which she could discern I paid to the - visitor. At this moment, she cried out, accordingly, to know who was - there; and Fanchette, seeming to take this as a command, rose and dragged - her stool aside, saying peevishly and without any increase of respect, - ‘There, I told you she could hear.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Who is it?’ mademoiselle asked again, in a raised voice. - </p> - <p> - I was about to answer when the king signed to me to stand back, and, - advancing himself, knocked gently on the door. ‘Open, I pray you, - mademoiselle,’ he said courteously. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who is there?’ she cried again, her voice trembling. - </p> - <p> - ‘It is I, the king,’ he answered softly; but in that tone of majesty which - belongs not to the man, but to the descendant, and seems to be the outcome - of centuries of command. - </p> - <p> - She uttered an exclamation and slowly, and with seeming reluctance, turned - the key in the lock. It grated, and the door opened. I caught a glimpse - for an instant of her pale face and bright eyes, and then his Majesty, - removing his hat, passed in and closed the door; and I withdrew to the - farther end of the room, where madame continued to stand by the entrance. - </p> - <p> - I entertained a suspicion, I remember, and not unnaturally, that she had - come to my lodging as her husband’s spy; but her first words when I joined - her dispelled this. ‘Quick!’ she said with an imperious gesture. ‘Hear me - and let me go! I have waited long enough for you, and suffered enough - through you. As for that, woman in there, she is mad, and her servant too! - Now, listen to me. You spoke to me honestly to-day, and I have come to - repay you. You have an appointment with my husband to-morrow at Chaverny. - Is it not so?’ she added impatiently. - </p> - <p> - I replied that it was so. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are to go with one friend,’ she went on, tearing the glove she had - taken off, to strips in her excitement, ‘He is to meet you with one also?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ I assented reluctantly, ‘at the bridge, madame.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then do not go,’ she rejoined emphatically. ‘Shame on me that I should - betray my husband; but it were worse to send an innocent man to his death. - He will meet you with one sword only, according to his challenge, but - there will be those under the bridge who will make certain work. There, I - have betrayed him now!’ she continued bitterly. ‘It is done. Let me go!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, but, madame,’ I said, feeling more concerned for her, on whom from - the first moment of meeting her I had brought nothing but misfortune, than - surprised by this new treachery on his part, ‘will you not run some risk - in returning to him? Is there nothing I can do for you—no step I can - take for your protection?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘None!’ she said repellently and almost rudely, ‘except to speed my - going.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But you will not pass through the streets alone?’ - </p> - <p> - She laughed so bitterly my heart ached for her. ‘The unhappy are always - safe,’ she said. - </p> - <p> - Remembering how short a time it was since I had surprised her in the first - happiness of wedded love, I felt for her all the pity it was natural I - should feel. But the responsibility under which his Majesty’s presence and - the charge of mademoiselle laid me forbade me to indulge in the luxury of - evincing my gratitude. Gladly would I have escorted her back to her home—even - if I could not make that home again what it had been, or restore her - husband to the pinnacle from which I had dashed him—but I dared not - do this. I was forced to content myself with less, and was about to offer - to send one of my men with her, when a hurried knocking at the outer door - arrested the words on my lips. - </p> - <p> - Signing to her to stand still, I listened. The knocking was repeated, and - grew each moment more urgent. There was a little grille, strongly wired, - in the upper part of the door, and this I was about to open in order to - learn what was amiss, when Simon’s voice reached me from the farther side - imploring me to open the door quickly. Doubting the lad’s prudence, yet - afraid to refuse lest I should lose some warning he had to give, I paused - a second, and then undid the fastenings. The moment the door gave way he - fell in bodily, crying out to me to bar it behind him. I caught a glimpse - through the gap of a glare as of torches, and saw by this light half a - dozen flushed faces in the act of rising above the edge of the landing. - The men who owned them raised a shout of triumph at sight of me, and, - clearing the upper steps at a bound, made a rush for the door. But in - vain. We had just time to close it and drop the two stout bars. In a - moment, in a second, the fierce outcry fell to a dull roar; and safe for - the time, we had leisure to look in one another’s faces and learn the - different aspects of alarm. Madame was white to the lips, while Simon’s - eyes seemed starting from his head, and he shook in every limb with - terror. - </p> - <p> - At first, on my asking him what it meant, he could not speak. But that - would not do, and I was in the act of seizing him by the collar to force - an answer from him when the inner door opened, and the king came out, his - face wearing an air of so much cheerfulness as proved both his - satisfaction with mademoiselle’s story and his ignorance of all we were - about. In a word he had not yet taken the least alarm; but seeing Simon in - my hands, and madame leaning against the wall by the door like one - deprived of life, he stood and cried out in surprise to know what it was. - </p> - <p> - ‘I fear we are besieged, sire,’ I answered desperately, feeling my - anxieties increased a hundredfold by his appearance—‘but by whom I - cannot say. This lad knows, however,’ I continued, giving Simon, a vicious - shake, ‘and he shall speak. Now, trembler,’ I said to him, ‘tell your - tale?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The Provost-Marshal!’ he stammered, terrified afresh by the king’s - presence: for Henry had removed his mask. ‘I was on guard below. I had - come up a few steps to be out of the cold, when I heard them enter. There - are a round score of them.’ - </p> - <p> - I cried out a great oath, asking him why he had not gone up and warned - Maignan, who with his men was now cut off from us in the rooms above. ‘You - fool!’ I continued, almost beside myself with rage, ‘if you had not come - to this door they would have mounted to my rooms and beset them! What is - this folly about the Provost-Marshal?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He is there,’ Simon answered, cowering away from me, his face working. - </p> - <p> - I thought he was lying, and had merely fancied this in his fright. But the - assailants at this moment began to hail blows on the door, calling on us - to open, and using such volleys of threats as penetrated even the - thickness of the oak; driving the blood from the women’s cheeks, and - arresting the king’s step in a manner which did not escape me. Among their - cries I could plainly distinguish the words, ‘In the king’s name!’ which - bore out Simon’s statement. - </p> - <p> - At the moment I drew comfort from this; for if we had merely to deal with - the law we had that on our side which was above it. And I speedily made up - my mind what to do. ‘I think the lad speaks the truth, sire,’ I said - coolly. ‘This is only your Majesty’s Provost-Marshal. The worst to be - feared, therefore, is that he may learn your presence here before you - would have it known. It should not be a matter of great difficulty, - however, to bind him to silence, and if you will please to mask, I will - open the grille and speak with him.’ - </p> - <p> - The king, who had taken his stand in the middle of the room, and seemed - dazed and confused by the suddenness of the alarm and the uproar, assented - with a brief word. Accordingly I was preparing to open the grille when - Madame de Bruhl seized my arm, and forcibly pushed me back from it. - </p> - <p> - ‘What would you do?’ she cried, her face full of terror. ‘Do you not hear? - He is there.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Who is there?’ I said, startled more by her manner than her words. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who?’ she answered; ‘who should be there? My husband! I hear his voice, I - tell you! He has tracked me here! He has found me, and will kill me!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘God forbid!’ I said, doubting if she had really heard his voice. To make - sure, I asked Simon if he had seen him; and my heart sank when I heard - from him too that Bruhl was of the party. For the first time I became - fully sensible of the danger which threatened us. For the first time, - looking round the ill-lit room on the women’s terrified faces, and the - king’s masked figure instinct with ill-repressed nervousness, I recognised - how hopelessly we were enmeshed. Fortune had served Bruhl so well that, - whether he knew it or not, he had us all trapped—alike the king whom - he desired to compromise, and his wife whom he hated, mademoiselle who had - once escaped him, and me who had twice thwarted him. It was little to be - wondered at if my courage sank as I looked from one to another, and - listened to the ominous creaking of the door, as the stout panels - complained under the blows rained upon them. For my first duty, and that - which took the PAS of all others, was to the king—to save him - harmless. How, then, was I to be answerable for mademoiselle, how protect - Madame de Bruhl?—how, in a word, redeem all those pledges in which - my honour was concerned? - </p> - <p> - It was the thought of the Provost-Marshal which at this moment rallied my - failing spirits. I remembered that until the mystery of his presence here - in alliance with Bruhl was explained there was no need to despair; and - turning briskly to the king I begged him to favour me by standing with the - women in a corner which was not visible from the door. He complied - mechanically, and in a manner which I did not like; but lacking time to - weigh trifles, I turned to the grille and opened it without more ado. - </p> - <p> - The appearance of my face at the trap was greeted with a savage cry of - recognition, which subsided as quickly into silence. It was followed by a - momentary pushing to and fro among the crowd outside, which in its turn - ended in the Provost-Marshal coming to the front. ‘In the king’s name!’ he - said fussily. - </p> - <p> - ‘What is it?’ I replied, eyeing rather the flushed, eager faces which - scowled over his shoulders than himself. The light of two links, borne by - some of the party, shone ruddily on the heads of the halberds, and, - flaring up from time to time, filled all the place with wavering, smoky - light. ‘What do you want?’ I continued, ‘rousing my lodging at this time - of night?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I hold a warrant for your arrest,’ he replied bluntly. ‘Resistance will - be vain. If you do not surrender I shall send for a ram to break in the - door.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Where is your order?’ I said sharply. ‘The one you held this morning was - cancelled by the king himself.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Suspended only,’ he answered. ‘Suspended only. It was given out to me - again this evening for instant execution. And I am here in pursuance of - it, and call on you to surrender.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Who delivered it to you?’ I retorted. - </p> - <p> - ‘M. de Villequier,’ he answered readily. ‘And here it is. Now, come, sir,’ - he continued, ‘you are only making matters worse. Open to us.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Before I do so,’ I said drily, ‘I should like to know what part in the - pageant my friend M. de Bruhl, whom I see on the stairs yonder, proposes - to play. And there is my old friend Fresnoy,’ I added. ‘And I see one or - two others whom I know, M. Provost. Before I surrender I must know among - other things what M. de Bruhl’s business is here.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is the business of every loyal man to execute the king’s warrant,’ the - Provost answered evasively. ‘It is yours to surrender, and mine to lodge - you in the Castle. ‘But I am loth to have a disturbance. I will give you - until that torch goes out, if you like, to make up your mind. At the end - of that time, if you do not surrender, I shall batter down the door.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You will give the torch fair play?’ I said, noting its condition. - </p> - <p> - He assented; and thanking him sternly for this indulgence, I closed the - grille. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXV. TERMS OF SURRENDER. - </h2> - <p> - I still had my hand on the trap when a touch on the shoulder caused me to - turn, and in a moment apprised me of the imminence of a new peril; a peril - of such a kind that, summoning all my resolution, I could scarcely hope to - cope with it. Henry was at my elbow. He had taken of his mask, and a - single glance at his countenance warned me that that had happened of which - I had already felt some fear. The glitter of intense excitement shone in - his eyes. His face, darkly-flushed and wet with sweat, betrayed - overmastering emotion, while his teeth, tight clenched in the effort to - restrain the fit of trembling which possessed him, showed between his lips - like those of a corpse. The novelty of the danger which menaced him, the - absence of his gentlemen, and of all the familiar faces and surroundings - without which he never moved, the hour, the mean house, and his isolation - among strangers, had proved too much for nerves long weakened by his - course of living, and for a courage, proved indeed in the field, but - unequal to a sudden stress. Though he still strove to preserve his - dignity, it was alarmingly plain to my eyes that he was on the point of - losing, if he had not already lost, all self-command. - </p> - <p> - ‘Open!’ he muttered between his teeth, pointing impatiently to the trap - with the hand with which he had already touched me. ‘Open, I say, sir!’ - </p> - <p> - I stared at him, startled and confounded. ‘But your Majesty,’ I ventured - to stammer, ‘forgets that I have not yet—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Open, I say!’ he repeated passionately. ‘Do you hear me, sir? I desire - that this door be opened.’ His lean hand shook as with the palsy, so that - the gems on it twinkled in the light and rattled as he spoke. - </p> - <p> - I looked helplessly from him to the women and back again, seeing in a - flash all the dangers which might follow from the discovery of his - presence there—dangers which I had not before formulated to myself, - but which seemed in a moment to range themselves with the utmost clearness - before my eyes. At the same time I saw what seemed to me to be a way of - escape; and emboldened by the one and the other, I kept my hand on the - trap and strove to parley with him. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nay, but, sire,’ I said hurriedly, yet still with as much deference as I - could command, ‘I beg you to permit me first to repeat what I have seen. - M. de Bruhl is without, and I counted six men whom I believe to be his - following. They are ruffians ripe for any crime; and I implore your - Majesty rather to submit to a short imprisonment—’ - </p> - <p> - I paused struck dumb on that word, confounded by the passion which - lightened in the king’s face. My ill-chosen expression had indeed applied - the spark to his wrath. Predisposed to suspicion by a hundred treacheries, - he forgot the perils outside in the one idea which on the instant - possessed his mind; that I would confine his person, and had brought him - hither for no other purpose. He glared round him with eyes full of rage - and fear, and his trembling lips breathed rather than spoke the word - ‘Imprison?’ - </p> - <p> - Unluckily, a trifling occurrence added at this moment to his disorder, and - converted it into frenzy. Someone outside fell heavily against the door; - this, causing madame to utter a low shriek, seemed to shatter the last - remnant of the king’s self-control. Stamping his foot on the floor, he - cried to me with the utmost wildness to open the door—by which I had - hitherto kept my place. - </p> - <p> - But, wrongly or rightly, I was still determined to put off opening it; and - I raised my hands with the intention of making a last appeal to him. He - misread the gesture, and retreating a step, with the greatest suddenness - whipped out his sword, and in a moment had the point at my breast, and his - wrist drawn back to thrust. - </p> - <p> - It has always been my belief that he would not have dealt the blow, but - that the mere touch of the hilt, awaking the courage which he undoubtedly - possessed, and which did not desert him in his last moments, would have - recalled him to himself. But the opportunity was not given him, for while - the blade yet quivered, and I stood motionless, controlling myself by an - effort, my knee half bent and my eyes on his, Mademoiselle de la Vire - sprang forward at his back, and with a loud scream clutched his elbow. The - king, surprised, and ignorant who held him, flung up his point wildly, and - striking the lamp above his head with his blade, shattered it in an - instant, bringing down the pottery with a crash and reducing the room to - darkness; while the screams of the women, and the knowledge that we had a - madman among us, peopled, the blackness with a hundred horrors. - </p> - <p> - Fearing above all for mademoiselle, I made my way as soon as I could - recover my wits to the embers of the fire, and regardless of the king’s - sword, which I had a vague idea was darting about in the darkness, I - searched for and found a half-burnt stick, which I blew into a blaze. With - this, still keeping my back to the room, I contrived to light a taper that - I had noticed standing by the hearth; and then, and then only, I turned to - see what I had to confront. - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle de la Vire stood in a corner, half-fierce, half-terrified, - and wholly flushed. She had her hand wrapped up in a ‘kerchief already - stained with blood; and from this I gathered that the king in his frenzy - had wounded her slightly. Standing before her mistress, with her hair - bristling, like a wild-cat’s fur, and her arms akimbo, was Fanchette, her - harsh face and square form instinct with fury and defiance. Madame de - Bruhl and Simon cowered against the wall not far from them; and in a - chair, into which he had apparently just thrown himself, sat the king, - huddled up and collapsed, the point of his sword trailing on the ground - beside him, and his nerveless hand scarce retaining force to grip the - pommel. - </p> - <p> - In a moment I made up my mind what to do, and going to him in silence, I - laid my pistols, sword, and dagger on a stool by his side. Then I knelt. - </p> - <p> - ‘The door, sire,’ I said, ‘is there. It is for your Majesty to open it - when you please. Here, too, sire, are my weapons. I am your prisoner, the - Provost-Marshal is outside, and you can at a word deliver me to him. Only - one thing I beg, sire,’ I continued earnestly, ‘that your Majesty will - treat as a delusion the idea that I meditated for a moment disrespect or - violence to your person.’ - </p> - <p> - He looked at me dully, his face pale, his eyes fish-like. ‘Sanctus, man!’ - he muttered, ‘why did you raise your hand?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Only to implore your Majesty to pause a moment,’ I answered, watching the - intelligence return slowly to his face. ‘If you will deign to listen I can - explain in half a dozen words, sire. M. de Bruhl’s men are six or seven, - the Provost has eight or nine; but the former are the wilder blades, and - if M. de Bruhl find your Majesty in my lodging, and infer his own defeat, - he will be capable of any desperate stroke. Your person would hardly be - safe in his company through the streets. And there is another - consideration,’ I went on, observing with joy that the king listened, and - was gradually regaining his composure. ‘That is, the secrecy you desired - to preserve, sire, until this matter should be well advanced. M. de Rosny - laid the strictest injunctions on me in that respect, fearing an EMEUTE in - Blois should your Majesty’s plans become known.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You speak fairly,’ the king answered with returning energy, though he - avoided looking at the women. ‘Bruhl is likely enough to raise one. But - how am I to get out, sir?’ he continued, querulously. ‘I cannot remain - here. I shall be missed, man! I am not a hedge-captain, neither sought nor - wanted!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If your Majesty would trust me?’ I said slowly and with hesitation. - </p> - <p> - ‘Trust you!’ he retorted peevishly, holding up his hands and gazing - intently at his nails, of the shape and whiteness of which he was prouder - than any woman. ‘Have I not trusted you? If I had not trusted you, should - I have been here? But that you were a Huguenot—God forgive me for - saying it!—I would have seen you in hell before I would have come - here with you!’ - </p> - <p> - I confess to having heard this testimony to the Religion with a pride - which made me forget for a moment the immediate circumstances—the - peril in which we stood, the gloomy room darkly lighted by a single - candle, the scared faces in the background, even the king’s huddled - figure, in which dejection and pride struggled for expression. For a - moment only; then I hastened to reply, saying that I doubted not I could - still extricate his Majesty without discovery. - </p> - <p> - ‘In Heaven’s name do it, then!’ he answered sharply. ‘Do what you like, - man! Only get me back into the castle, and it shall not be a Huguenot will - entice me out again. I am over old for these adventures!’ - </p> - <p> - A fresh attack on the door taking place as he said this induced me to lose - no time in explaining my plan, which he was good enough to approve, after - again upbraiding me for bringing him into such a dilemma. Fearing lest the - door should give way prematurely, notwithstanding the bars I had provided - for it, and goaded on by Madame de Bruhl’s face, which evinced the utmost - terror, I took the candle and attended his Majesty into the inner room; - where I placed my pistols beside him, but silently resumed my sword and - dagger. I then returned for the women, and indicating by signs that they - were to enter, held the door open for them. - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle, whose bandaged hand I could not regard without emotion, - though the king’s presence and the respect I owed him forbade me to utter - so much as a word, advanced readily until she reached the doorway abreast - of me. There, however, looking back, and seeing Madame de Bruhl following - her, she stopped short, and darting a haughty glance at me, muttered, ‘And—that - lady? Are we to be shut up together, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle,’ I answered quickly in the low tone she had used herself, - ‘have I ever asked anything dishonourable of you?’ - </p> - <p> - She seemed by a slight movement of the head to answer in the negative. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nor do I now,’ I replied with earnestness. ‘I entrust to your care a lady - who has risked great peril for US; and the rest I leave to you.’ - </p> - <p> - She looked me very keenly in the face for a second, and then, without - answering, she passed on, Madame and Fanchette following her in that - order. I closed the door and turned to Simon; who by my direction had - blown the embers of the fire into a blaze so as to partially illumine the - room, in which only he and I now remained. The lad seemed afraid to meet - my eye, and owing to the scene at which he had just assisted, or to the - onslaught on the door, which grew each moment more furious, betrayed - greater restlessness than I had lately observed in him. I did not doubt - his fidelity, however, or his devotion to mademoiselle; and the orders I - had to give him were simple enough. - </p> - <p> - ‘This is what you have got to do,’ I said, my hand already on the bars. - ‘The moment I am outside secure this door. After that, open to no one - except Maignan. When he applies, let him in with caution, and bid him, as - he loves M. de Rosny, take his men as soon as the coast is clear, and - guard the King of France to the castle. Charge him to be brave and wary, - for his life will answer for the king’s.’ - </p> - <p> - Twice I repeated this; then fearing lest the Provost-Marshal should make - good his word and apply a ram to the door, I opened the trap. A dozen - angry voices hailed my appearance, and this with so much violence and - impatience that it was some time before I could get a hearing; the knaves - threatening me if I would not instantly open, and persisting that I should - do so without more words. Their leader at length quieted them, but it was - plain that his patience too was worn out. ‘Do you surrender or do you - not?’ he said. ‘I am not going to stay out of my bed all night for you!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I warn you,’ I answered, ‘that the order you have there has been - cancelled by the king!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That is not my business,’ he rejoined hardily. - </p> - <p> - ‘No, but it will be when the king sends for you to-morrow morning,’ I - retorted; at which he looked somewhat moved. ‘However, I will surrender to - you on two conditions,’ I continued, keenly observing the coarse faces of - his following. ‘First, that you let me keep my arms until we reach the - gate-house, I giving you my parole to come with you quietly. That is - number one.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well,’ the Provost-Marshal said more civilly, ‘I have no objection to - that.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Secondly, that you do not allow your men to break into my lodgings. I - will come out quietly, and so an end. Your order does not direct you to - sack my goods.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut!’ he replied; ‘I want, you to come out. I do not want to go in.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then draw your men back to the stairs,’ I said. ‘And if you keep terms - with me, I will uphold you to-morrow, For your orders will certainly bring - you into trouble. M. de Retz, who procured it this morning, is away, you - know. M. de Villequier may be gone to-morrow. But depend upon it, M. de - Rambouillet will be here!’ - </p> - <p> - The remark was well timed and to the point. It startled the man as much as - I had hoped it would. Without raising any objection he ordered his men to - fall back and guard the stairs; and I on my side began to undo the - fastenings of the door. - </p> - <p> - The matter was not to be so easily concluded, however; for Bruhl’s - rascals, in obedience, no doubt, to a sign given by their leader, who - stood with Fresnoy on the upper flight of stairs, refused to withdraw; and - even hustled the Provost-Marshal’s men when the latter would have obeyed - the order. The officer, already heated by delay, replied by laying about - him with his staff, and in a twinkling there seemed to be every prospect - of a very pretty MELEE, the end of which it was impossible to foresee. - </p> - <p> - Reflecting, however, that if Bruhl’s men routed their opponents our - position might be made worse rather than better, I did not act on my first - impulse, which was to see the matter out where I was. Instead, I seized - the opportunity to let myself out, while Simon fastened the door behind - me. The Provost-Marshal was engaged at the moment in a wordy dispute with - Fresnoy; whose villainous countenance, scarred by the wound which I had - given him at Chize, and flushed with passion, looked its worst by the - light of the single torch which remained. In one respect the villain had - profited by his present patronage, for he was decked out in a style of - tawdry magnificence. But I have always remarked this about dress, that - while a shabby exterior does not entirely obscure a gentleman, the extreme - of fashion is powerless to gild a knave. - </p> - <p> - Seeing me on a sudden at the Provost’s elbow, he recoiled with a change of - countenance so ludicrous that that officer was himself startled, and only - held his ground on my saluting him civilly and declaring myself his - prisoner I added a warning that he should look to the torch which - remained; seeing that if it failed we were both like to have our throats - cut in the confusion. - </p> - <p> - He took the hint promptly, and calling the link-man to his side prepared - to descend, bidding Fresnoy and his men, who remained clumped at the head - of the stairs, make way for us without ado. They seemed much inclined, - however, to dispute our passage, and replying to his invectives with rough - taunts, displayed so hostile a demeanour that the Provost, between regard - for his own importance and respect for Bruhl, appeared for a moment at a - loss what to do; and seemed rather relieved than annoyed when I begged - leave to say a word to M. de Bruhl. - </p> - <p> - ‘If you can bring his men to reason,’ he replied testily, ‘speak your fill - to him!’ - </p> - <p> - Stepping to the foot of the upper flight, on which Bruhl retained his - position, I saluted him formally. He returned my greeting with a surly, - watchful look only, and drawing his cloak more tightly round him affected - to gaze down at me with disdain; which ill concealed, however, both the - triumph he felt and the hopes of vengeance he entertained. I was - especially anxious to learn whether he had tracked his wife hither, or was - merely here in pursuance of his general schemes against me, and to this - end. I asked him with as much irony as I could compass to what I was to - attribute his presence. ‘I am afraid I cannot stay to offer you - hospitality,’ I continued; ‘but for that you have only your friend M. - Villequier to thank!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am greatly obliged to you,’ he answered with a devilish smile, ‘but do - not let that affect you. When you are gone I propose to help myself, my - friend, to whatever takes my taste.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Do you?’ I retorted coolly—not that I was unaffected by the threat - and the villainous hint which underlay the words, but that, fully - expecting them, I was ready with my answer. ‘We will see about that.’ And - therewith I raised my fingers to my lips, and, whistling shrilly, cried - ‘Maignan! Maignan!’ in a clear voice. - </p> - <p> - I had no need to cry the name a third time, for before the Provost-Marshal - could do more than start at this unexpected action, the landing above us - rang under a heavy tread, and the man I called, descending the stairs - swiftly, appeared on a sudden within arm’s length of M. de Bruhl; who, - turning with an oath, saw him, and involuntarily recoiled. At all times - Maignan’s hardy and confident bearing was of a kind to impress the strong; - but on this occasion there was an added dash of recklessness in his manner - which was not without its effect on the spectators. As he stood there - smiling darkly over Bruhl’s head, while his hand toyed carelessly with his - dagger, and the torch shone ruddily on his burly figure, he was so clearly - an antagonist in a thousand that, had I sought through Blois, I might not - have found his fellow for strength and SANG-FROID. He let his black eyes - rove from one to the other, but took heed of me only, saluting me with - effusion and a touch of the Gascon which was in place here, if ever. - </p> - <p> - I knew how M. de Rosny dealt with him, and followed the pattern as far as - I could. ‘Maignan!’ I said curtly, ‘I have taken a lodging for to-night - elsewhere. Then I am gone you will call out your men and watch this door. - If anyone tries to force an entrance you will do your duty.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You may consider it done,’ he replied. - </p> - <p> - ‘Even if the person be M. de Bruhl here,’ I continued. - </p> - <p> - ‘Precisely.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You will remain on guard,’ I went on, ‘until to-morrow morning if M. de - Bruhl remains here; but whenever he leaves you will take your orders from - the persons inside, and follow them implicitly.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Your Excellency’s mind may be easy,’ he answered, handling his dagger. - </p> - <p> - Dismissing him with a nod, I turned with a smile to M. de Bruhl, and saw - that between rage at this unexpected check and chagrin at the insult put - upon him, his discomfiture was as complete as I could wish. As for - Fresnoy, if he had seriously intended to dispute our passage, he was no - longer in the mood for the attempt. Yet I did not let his master off - without one more prick. ‘That being settled, M. de Bruhl,’ I said - pleasantly, ‘I may bid you good evening. You will doubtless honour me at - Chaverny tomorrow. But we will first let Maignan look under the bridge!’ - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVI. MEDITATIONS. - </h2> - <p> - Either the small respect I had paid M. de Bruhl, or the words I had let - fall respecting the possible disappearance of M. Villequier, had had so - admirable an effect on the Provost-Marshal’s mind that from the moment of - leaving my lodgings he treated me with the utmost civility; permitting me - even to retain my sword, and assigning me a sleeping-place for the night - in his own apartments at the gate-house. - </p> - <p> - Late as it was, I could not allow so much politeness to pass - unacknowledged. I begged leave, therefore, to distribute a small gratuity - among his attendants, and requested him to do me the honour of drinking a - bottle of wine with me. This being speedily procured, at such an expense - as is usual in these places, where prisoners pay, according as they are - rich or poor, in purse or person, kept us sitting for an hour, and - finally sent us to our pallets perfectly satisfied with one another. - </p> - <p> - The events of the day, however, and particularly one matter, on which I - have not dwelt at length, proved as effectual to prevent my sleeping as if - I had been placed in the dampest cell below the castle. So much had been - crowded into a time so short that it seemed as if I had had until now no - opportunity of considering whither I was being hurried, or what fortune - awaited me at the end of this turmoil. From the first appearance of M. - d’Agen in the morning, with the startling news that the Provost-Marshal - was seeking me, to my final surrender and encounter with Bruhl on the - stairs, the chain of events had run out so swiftly that I had scarcely had - time at any particular period to consider how I stood, or the full import - of the latest check or victory. Now that I had leisure I lived the day - over again, and, recalling its dangers and disappointments, felt thankful - that all had ended so fairly. - </p> - <p> - I had the most perfect confidence in Maignan, and did not doubt that Bruhl - would soon weary, if he had not already wearied, of a profitless siege. In - an hour at most—and it was not yet midnight—the king would be - free to go home; and with that would end, as far as he was concerned, the - mission with which M. de Rosny had honoured me. The task of communicating - his Majesty’s decision to the King of Navarre would doubtless be entrusted - to M. de Rambouillet, or some person of similar position and influence; - and in the same hands would rest the honour and responsibility of the - treaty which, as we all know now, gave after a brief interval and some - bloodshed, and one great providence, a lasting peace to France. But it - must ever be—and I recognised this that night with a bounding heart, - which told of some store of youth yet unexhausted—a matter of - lasting pride to me that I, whose career but now seemed closed in failure, - had proved the means of conferring so especial a benefit on my country and - religion. - </p> - <p> - Remembering, however, the King of Navarre’s warning that I must not look - to him for reward, I felt greatly doubtful in what direction the scene - would next open to me; my main dependence being upon M. de Rosny’s promise - that he would make my fortune his own care. Tired of the Court at Blois, - and the atmosphere of intrigue and treachery which pervaded it, and with - which I hoped I had now done, I was still at a loss to see how I could - recross the Loire in face of the Vicomte de Turenne’s enmity. I might have - troubled myself much more with speculating upon this point had I not found—in - close connection with it—other and more engrossing food for thought - in the capricious behaviour of Mademoiselle de la Vire. - </p> - <p> - To that behaviour it seemed to me that I now held the clue. I suspected - with as much surprise as pleasure that only one construction could be - placed upon it—a construction which had strongly occurred to me on - catching sight of her face when she intervened between me and the king. - </p> - <p> - Tracing the matter back to the moment of our meeting in the antechamber at - St. Jean d’Angely, I remembered the jest which Mathurine had uttered at - our joint expense. Doubtless it had dwelt in mademoiselle’s mind, and - exciting her animosity against me had prepared her to treat me with - contumely when, contrary to all probability, we met again, and she found - herself placed in a manner in my hands. It had inspired her harsh words - and harsher looks on our journey northwards, and contributed with her - native pride to the low opinion I had formed of her when I contrasted her - with my honoured mother. - </p> - <p> - But I began to think it possible that the jest had worked in another way - as well, by keeping me before her mind and impressing upon her the idea—after - my re-appearance at Chize more particularly—that our fates were in - some way linked. Assuming this, it was not hard to understand her manner - at Rosny when, apprised that I was no impostor, and regretting her former - treatment of me, she still recoiled from the feelings which she began to - recognise in her own breast. From that time, and with this clue, I had no - difficulty in tracing her motives, always supposing that this suspicion, - upon which I dwelt with feelings of wonder and delight, were well founded. - </p> - <p> - Middle-aged and grizzled, with the best of my life behind me I had never - dared to think of her in this way before. Poor and comparatively obscure, - I had never raised my eyes to the wide possessions said to be hers. Even - now I felt myself dazzled and bewildered by the prospect so suddenly - unveiled. I could scarcely, without vertigo, recall her as I had last seen - her, with her hand wounded in my defence; nor, without emotions painful in - their intensity, fancy myself restored to the youth of which I had taken - leave, and to the rosy hopes and plannings which visit most men once only, - and then in early years. Hitherto I had deemed such things the lot of - others. - </p> - <p> - Daylight found me—and no wonder—still diverting myself with - these charming speculations; which had for me, be it remembered, all the - force of novelty. The sun chanced to rise that morning in a clear sky, and - brilliantly for the time of year; and words fail me when I look back, and - try to describe how delicately this single fact enhanced my pleasure! I - sunned myself in the beams, which penetrated my barred window; and tasting - the early freshness with a keen and insatiable appetite, I experienced to - the full that peculiar aspiration after goodness which Providence allows - such moments to awaken in us in youth; but rarely when time and the camp - have blunted the sensibilities. - </p> - <p> - I had not yet arrived at the stage at which difficulties have to be - reckoned up, and the chief drawback to the tumult of joy I felt took the - shape of regret that my mother no longer lived to feel the emotions proper - to the time, and to share in the prosperity which she had so often and so - fondly imagined. Nevertheless, I felt myself drawn closer to her. I - recalled with the most tender feelings, and at greater leisure than had - before been the case, her last days and words, and particularly the appeal - she had uttered on mademoiselle’s behalf. And I vowed, if it were - possible, to pay a visit to her grave before leaving the neighbourhood, - that I might there devote a few moments to the thought of the affection - which had consecrated all women in my eyes. - </p> - <p> - I was presently interrupted in these reflections by a circumstance which - proved in the end diverting enough, though far from reassuring at the - first blush. It began in a dismal rattling of chains in the passage below - and on the stairs outside my room; which were paved, like the rest of the - building, with stone. I waited with impatience and some uneasiness to see - what would come of this; and my surprise may be imagined when, the door - being unlocked, gave entrance to a man in whom I recognised on the instant - deaf Mathew—the villain whom I had last seen with Fresnoy in the - house in the Rue Valois. Amazed at seeing him here, I sprang to my feet in - fear of some treachery, and for a moment apprehended that the - Provost-Marshal had basely given me over to Bruhl’s custody. But a second - glance informing me that the man was in irons—hence the noise I had - heard—I sat down again to see what would happen. - </p> - <p> - It then appeared, that he merely brought me my breakfast, and was a - prisoner in less fortunate circumstances than myself; but as he pretended - not to recognise me, and placed the things before me in obdurate silence, - and I had no power to make him hear, I failed to learn how he came to be - in durance. The Provost-Marshal, however, came presently to visit me, and - brought me in token that the good-fellowship of the evening still existed - a pouch of the Queen’s herb; which I accepted for politeness’ sake rather - than from any virtue I found in it. And from him I learned how the rascal - came to be in his charge. - </p> - <p> - It appeared that Fresnoy, having no mind to be hampered with a wounded - man, had deposited him on the night of our MELEE at the door of a hospital - attached to a religious house in that part of the town. The fathers had - opened to him, but before taking him in put, according to their custom, - certain questions. Matthew had been primed with the right answers to these - questions, which were commonly a form; but, unhappily for him, the - Superior by chance or mistake began with the wrong one. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are not a Huguenot, my son?’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘In God’s name, I am!’ Matthew replied with simplicity, believing he was - asked if he was a Catholic. - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ the scandalised Prior ejaculated, crossing himself in doubt, ‘are - you not a true son of the Church?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Never!’ quoth our deaf friend—thinking all went well. - </p> - <p> - ‘A heretic!’ cried the monk. - </p> - <p> - ‘Amen to that!’ replied Matthew innocently; never doubting but that he was - asked the third question, which was, commonly, whether he needed aid. - </p> - <p> - Naturally after this there was a very pretty commotion, and Matthew, - vainly protesting that he was deaf, was hurried off to the - Provost-Marshal’s custody. Asked how he communicated with him, the Provost - answered that he could not, but that his little godchild, a girl only - eight years old, had taken a strange fancy to the rogue, and was never so - happy as when talking to him by means of signs, of which she had invented - a great number. I thought this strange at the time, but I had proof before - the morning was out that it was true enough, and that the two were seldom - apart, the little child governing this grim cut-throat with unquestioned - authority. - </p> - <p> - After the Provost was gone I heard the man’s fetters clanking again. This - time he entered to remove my cup and plate, and surprised me by speaking - to me. Maintaining his former sullenness, and scarcely looking at me, he - said abruptly: ‘You are going out again?’ - </p> - <p> - I nodded assent. - </p> - <p> - ‘Do you remember a bald-faced bay horse that fell with you?’ he muttered, - keeping his dogged glance on the floor. - </p> - <p> - I nodded again. - </p> - <p> - ‘I want to sell the horse,’ he said. ‘There is not such another in Blois, - no, nor in Paris! Touch it on the near hip with the whip and it will go - down as if shot. At other times a child might ride it. It is in a stable, - the third from the Three Pigeons, in the Ruelle Amancy. Fresnoy does not - know where it is. He sent to ask yesterday, but I would not tell him.’ - </p> - <p> - Some spark of human feeling which appeared in his lowering, brutal visage - as he spoke of the horse led me to desire further information. Fortunately - the little girl appeared at that moment at the door in search of her - play-fellow; and through her I learned that the man’s motive for seeking - to sell the horse was fear lest the dealer in whose charge it stood should - dispose of it to repay himself for its keep, and he, Matthew, lose it - without return. - </p> - <p> - Still I did not understand why he applied to me, but I was well pleased - when I learned the truth. Base as the knave was, he had an affection for - the bay, which had been his only property for six years. Having this in - his mind, he had conceived the idea that I should treat it well, and - should not, because he was in prison and powerless, cheat him of the - price. - </p> - <p> - In the end I agreed to buy the horse for ten crowns, paying as well what - was due at the stable. I had it in my head to do something also for the - man, being moved to this partly by an idea that there was good in him, and - partly by the confidence he had seen fit to place in me, which seemed to - deserve some return. But a noise below stairs diverted my attention. I - heard myself named, and for the moment forgot the matter. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVII. TO ME, MY FRIENDS! - </h2> - <p> - I was impatient to learn who had come, and what was their errand with me; - and being still in that state of exaltation in which we seem to hear and - see more than at other times, I remarked a peculiar lagging in the - ascending footsteps, and a lack of buoyancy, which was quick to - communicate itself to my mind. A vague dread fell upon me as I stood - listening. Before the door opened I had already conceived a score of - disasters. I wondered that I had not inquired earlier concerning the - king’s safety, and en fin I experienced in a moment that complete reaction - of the spirits which is too frequently consequent upon an excessive flow - of gaiety. - </p> - <p> - I was prepared, therefore, for heavy looks, but not for the persons who - wore them nor the strange bearing the latter displayed on entering. My - visitors proved to be M. d’Agen and Simon Fleix. And so far well. But the - former, instead of coming forward to greet me with the punctilious - politeness which always characterised him, and which I had thought to be - proof against every kind of surprise and peril, met me with downcast eyes - and a countenance so gloomy as to augment my fears a hundredfold; since it - suggested all those vague and formidable pains which M. de Rambouillet had - hinted might await me in a prison. I thought nothing more probable than - the entrance after them of a gaoler laden with gyves and handcuffs; and - saluting M. Francois with a face which, do what I would, fashioned itself - upon his, I had scarce composure sufficient to place the poor - accommodation of my room at his disposal. - </p> - <p> - He thanked me; but he did it with so much gloom and so little naturalness - that I grew more impatient with each laboured syllable. Simon Fleix had - slunk to the window and turned his back on us. Neither seemed to have - anything to say. But a state of suspense was one which I could least - endure to suffer; and impatient of the constraint which my friend’s manner - was fast imparting to mine, I asked him at once and abruptly if his uncle - had returned. - </p> - <p> - ‘He rode in about midnight,’ he answered, tracing a pattern on the floor - with the point of his riding-switch. - </p> - <p> - I felt some surprise on hearing this, since d’Agen was still dressed and - armed for the road, and was without all those prettinesses which commonly - marked his attire. But as he volunteered no further information, and did - not even refer to the place in which he found me, or question me as to the - adventures which had lodged me there, I let it pass, and asked him if his - party had overtaken the deserters. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘with no result.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And the king?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘M. de Rambouillet is with him now,’ he rejoined, still bending over his - tracing. - </p> - <p> - This answer relieved the worst of my anxieties, but the manner of the - speaker was so distrait and so much at variance with the studied - INSOUCIANCE which he usually, affected, that I only grew more alarmed. I - glanced at Simon Fleix, but he kept his face averted, and I could gather - nothing from it; though I observed that he, too, was dressed for the road, - and wore his arms. I listened, but I could hear no sounds which indicated - that the Provost-Marshal was approaching. Then on a sudden I thought of - Mademoiselle de la Vire. Could it be that Maignan had proved unequal to - his task? - </p> - <p> - I started impetuously from my stool under the influence of the emotion - which this thought naturally aroused, and seized M. d’Agen by the arm. - ‘What has happened?’ I exclaimed. ‘Is it Bruhl? Did he break into my - lodgings last night? What!’ I continued, staggering back as I read the - confirmation of my fears in his face. ‘He did?’ - </p> - <p> - M. d’Agen, who had risen also, pressed my hand with convulsive energy. - Gazing into my face, he held me a moment thus embraced, His manner a - strange mixture of fierceness and emotion. ‘Alas, yes,’ he answered, ‘he - did, and took away those whom he found there! Those whom he found there, - you understand! But M. de Rambouillet is on his way here, and in a few - minutes you will be free. We will follow together. If we overtake them—well. - If not, it will be time to talk.’ - </p> - <p> - He broke off, and I stood looking at him, stunned by the blow, yet in the - midst of my own horror and surprise retaining sense enough to wonder at - the gloom on his brow and the passion which trembled in his words. What - had this to do with him? ‘But Bruhl?’ I said at last, recovering myself - with an effort—‘how did he gain access to the room? I left it - guarded.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘By a ruse, while Maignan and his men were away,’ was the answer. ‘Only - this lad of yours was there. Bruhl’s men overpowered him.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Which way has Bruhl gone?’ I muttered, my throat dry, my heart beating - wildly. - </p> - <p> - He shook his head. ‘All we know is that he passed through the south gate - with eleven horsemen, two women, and six led horses, at daybreak this - morning,’ he answered. ‘Maignan came to my uncle with the news, and M. de - Rambouillet went at once, early as it was, to the king to procure your - release. He should be here now.’ - </p> - <p> - I looked at the barred window, the most horrible fears at my heart; from - it to Simon Fleix, who stood beside it, his attitude expressing the utmost - dejection. I went towards him. ‘You hound!’ I said in a low voice, ‘how - did it happen?’ - </p> - <p> - To my surprise he fell in a moment on his knees, and raised his arm as - though to ward off a blow. ‘They imitated Maignan’s voice,’ he muttered - hoarsely. ‘We opened.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And you dare to come here and tell me!’ I cried, scarcely restraining my - passion. ‘You, to whom I entrusted her. You, whom I thought devoted to - her. You have destroyed her, man!’ - </p> - <p> - He rose as suddenly as he had cowered down. His thin, nervous face - underwent a startling change; growing on a sudden hard and rigid, while - his eyes began to glitter with excitement. ‘I—I have destroyed her? - Ay, mon dieu! I HAVE,’ he cried, speaking to my face, and no longer - flinching or avoiding my eye. ‘You may kill me, if you like. You do not - know all. It was I who stole the favour she gave you from your doublet, - and then said M. de Rosny had taken it! It was I who told her you had - given it away! It was I who brought her to the Little Sisters’, that she - might see you with Madame de Bruhl! It was I who did all, and destroyed - her! Now you know! Do with me what you like!’ - </p> - <p> - He opened his arms as though to receive a blow, while I stood before him - astounded beyond measure by a disclosure so unexpected; full of righteous - wrath and indignation, and yet uncertain what I ought to do. ‘Did you also - let Bruhl into the room on purpose?’ I cried at last. - </p> - <p> - ‘I?’ he exclaimed, with a sudden flash of rage in his eyes. ‘I would have - died first!’ - </p> - <p> - I do not know how I might have taken this confession; but at the moment - there was a trampling of horses outside, and before I could answer him I - heard M. de Rambouillet speaking in haughty tones, at the door below. The - Provost-Marshal was with him, but his lower notes were lost in the ring of - bridles and the stamping of impatient hoofs. I looked towards the door of - my room, which stood ajar, and presently the two entered, the Marquis - listening with an air of contemptuous indifference to the apologies which - the other, who attended at his elbow, was pouring forth. M. de - Rambouillet’s face reflected none of the gloom and despondency which M. - d’Agen’s exhibited in so marked a degree. He seemed, on the contrary, full - of gaiety and good-humour, and, coming forward and seeing me, embraced me - with the utmost kindness and condescension. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ha! my friend,’ he said cheerfully, ‘so I find you here after all! But - never fear. I am this moment from the king with an order for your release. - His Majesty has told me all, making me thereby your lasting friend and - debtor. As for this gentleman,’ he continued, turning with a cold smile to - the Provost-Marshal, who seemed to be trembling in his boots, ‘he may - expect an immediate order also. M. de Villequier has wisely gone - a-hunting, and will not be back for a day or two.’ - </p> - <p> - Racked as I was by suspense and anxiety, I could not assail him with - immediate petitions. It behoved me first to thank him for his prompt - intervention, and this in terms as warm as I could invent. Nor could I in - justice fail to commend the Provost; to him, representing the officer’s - conduct to me, and lauding his ability. All this, though my heart was sick - with thought and fear and disappointment, and every minute seemed an age. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, well,’ the Marquis said with stately good-nature, ‘We will lay the - blame on Villequier then. He is an old fox, however, and ten to one he - will go scot-free. It is not the first time he has played this trick. But - I have not yet come to the end of my commission,’ he continued pleasantly. - ‘His Majesty sends you this, M. de Marsac, and bade me say that he had - loaded it for you.’ - </p> - <p> - He drew from under his cloak as he spoke the pistol which I had left with - the king, and which happened to be the same M. de Rosny had given me. I - took it, marvelling impatiently at the careful manner in which he handled - it; but in a moment I understood for I found it loaded to the muzzle with - gold-pieces, of which two or three fell and rolled upon the floor. Much - moved by this substantial mark of the king’s gratitude, I was nevertheless - for pocketing them in haste; but the Marquis, to satisfy a little - curiosity on his part, would have me count them, and brought the tale to a - little over two thousand livres, without counting a ring set with precious - stones which I found among them. This handsome present diverted my - thoughts from Simon Fleix, but could not relieve the anxiety I felt on - mademoiselle’s account. The thought of her position so tortured me that M. - de Rambouillet began to perceive my state of mind, and hastened to assure - me that before going to the Court he had already issued orders calculated - to assist me. - </p> - <p> - ‘You desire to follow this lady, I understand?’ he said. ‘What with the - king who is enraged beyond the ordinary by this outrage, and Francois - there, who seemed beside himself when he heard the news, I have not got - any very clear idea of the position.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘She was entrusted to me by—by one, sir, well known to you,’ I - answered hoarsely. ‘My honour is engaged to him and to her. If I follow on - my feet and alone, I must follow. If I cannot save her, I can at least - punish the villains who have wronged her.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But the man’s wife is with them,’ he said in some wonder. - </p> - <p> - ‘That goes for nothing,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - He saw the strong emotion under which I laboured, and which scarcely - suffered me to answer him with patience; and he looked at me curiously, - but not unkindly. ‘The sooner you are off, the better then,’ he said, - nodding. ‘I gathered as much. The man Maignan will have his fellows at the - south gate an hour before noon, I understand. Francois has two lackeys, - and he is wild to go. With yourself and the lad there you will muster nine - swords. I will lend you two. I can spare no more, for we may have an - EMEUTE at any moment. You will take the road, therefore, eleven in all, - and should overtake them some time to-night if your horses are in - condition.’ - </p> - <p> - I thanked him warmly, without regarding his kindly statement that my - conduct on the previous day had laid him under lasting obligations to me. - We went down together, and he transferred two of his fellows to me there - and then, bidding them change their horses for fresh ones and meet me at - the south gate. He sent also a man to my stable—Simon Fleix having - disappeared in the confusion—for the Cid, and was in the act of - inquiring whether I needed anything else, when a woman slipped through the - knot of horsemen who surrounded us as we stood in the doorway of the - house, and, throwing herself upon me, grasped me by the arm. It was - Fanchette. Her harsh features were distorted with grief, her cheeks were - mottled with the violent weeping in which such persons vent their sorrow. - Her hair hung in long wisps on her neck. Her dress was torn and draggled, - and there was a great bruise over her eye. She had the air of one frantic - with despair and misery. - </p> - <p> - She caught me by the cloak, and shook me so that I staggered. ‘I have - found you at last!’ she cried joyfully. ‘You will take me with you! You - will take me to her!’ - </p> - <p> - Though her words tried my composure, and my heart went out to her, I - strove to answer her according to the sense of the matter. ‘It is - impossible, I said sternly. ‘This is a man’s errand. We shall have to ride - day and night, my good woman.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But I will ride day and night too!’ she replied passionately, flinging - the hair from her eyes, and looking wildly from me to M. Rambouillet. - ‘What would I not do for her? I am as strong as a man, and stronger. Take - me, take me, I say, and when I meet that villain I will tear him limb for - limb!’ - </p> - <p> - I shuddered, listening to her; but remembering that, being country bred, - she was really as strong as she said, and that likely enough some - advantage might accrue to us from her perfect fidelity and devotion to her - mistress, I gave a reluctant consent. I sent one of M. de Rambouillet’s - men to the stable where the deaf man’s bay was standing, bidding him pay - whatever was due to the dealer, and bring the horse to the south gate; my - intention being to mount one of my men on it, and furnish the woman with a - less tricky steed. - </p> - <p> - The briskness of these and the like preparations, which even for one of my - age and in my state of anxiety were not devoid, of pleasure, prevented my - thoughts dwelling on the future. Content to have M. Francois’ assistance - without following up too keenly the train of ideas which his readiness - suggested, I was satisfied also to make use of Simon without calling him - to instant account for his treachery. The bustle of the streets, which the - confirmation of the king’s speedy departure had filled with surly, - murmuring crowds, tended still further to keep my fears at bay; while the - contrast between my present circumstances, as I rode through them - well-appointed and well-attended, with the Marquis by my side, and the - poor appearance I had exhibited on my first arrival in Blois, could not - fail to inspire me with hope that I might surmount this danger, also, and - in the event find Mademoiselle safe and uninjured. I took leave of M. de - Rambouillet with many expressions of esteem on both sides, and a few - minutes before eleven reached the rendezvous outside the south gate. - </p> - <p> - M. d’Agen and Maignan advanced to meet me, the former still presenting an - exterior so stern and grave that I wondered to see him, and could scarcely - believe he was the same gay spark whose elegant affectations had more than - once caused me to smile. He saluted me in silence; Maignan with a sheepish - air, which ill-concealed the savage temper defeat had roused in him. - Counting my men, I found we mustered ten only, but the equerry explained - that he had despatched a rider ahead to make inquiries and leave word for - us at convenient points; to the end that we might follow the trail with as - few delays as possible. Highly commending Maignan for his forethought in - this, I gave the word to start, and crossing the river by the St. Gervais - Bridge, we took the road for Selles at a smart trot. - </p> - <p> - The weather had changed much in the last twenty-four hours. The sun shone - brightly, with a warm west wind, and the country already showed signs of - the early spring which marked that year. If, the first hurry of departure - over, I had now leisure to feel the gnawing of anxiety and the tortures - inflicted by an imagination which, far outstripping us, rode with those - whom we pursued and shared their perils, I found two sources of comfort - still open to me. No man who has seen service can look on a little band of - well-appointed horsemen without pleasure. I reviewed the stalwart forms - and stern faces which moved beside me and comparing their decent order and - sound equipments with the scurvy foulness of the men who had ridden north - with me, thanked God, and, ceased to wonder at the indignation which - Matthew and his fellows had aroused in mademoiselle’s mind. My other - source of satisfaction, the regular beat of hoofs and ring of bridles - continually augmented. Every step took us farther from Blois—farther - from the close town and reeking streets and the Court; which, if it no - longer seemed to me a shambles, befouled by one great deed of blood—experience - had removed that impression—retained an appearance infinitely mean - and miserable in my eyes. I hated and loathed its intrigues and its - jealousies, the folly which trifled in a closet while rebellion mastered - France, and the pettiness which recognised no wisdom save that of - balancing party and party. I thanked God that my work there was done, and - could have welcomed any other occasion that forced me to turn my back on - it, and sent me at large over the pure heaths, through the woods, and - under the wide heaven, speckled with moving clouds. - </p> - <p> - But such springs of comfort soon ran dry. M. d’Agen’s gloomy rage and the - fiery gleam in Maignan’s eye would have reminded me, had I been in any - danger of forgetting the errand on which we were bound, and the need, - exceeding all other needs, which compelled us to lose no moment that might - be used. Those whom we followed had five hours’ start. The thought of what - might; happen in those five hours to the two helpless women whom I had - sworn to protect burned itself into my mind; so that to refrain from - putting spurs to my horse and riding recklessly forward taxed at times all - my self-control. The horses seemed to crawl. The men rising and falling - listlessly in their saddles maddened me. Though I could not hope to come - upon any trace of our quarry for many hours, perhaps for days, I scanned - the long, flat heaths unceasingly, searched every marshy bottom before we - descended into it, and panted for the moment when the next low ridge - should expose to our view a fresh track of wood and waste. The rosy - visions of the past night, and those fancies in particular which had made - the dawn memorable, recurred to me, as his deeds in the body (so men say) - to a hopeless drowning wretch. I grew to think of nothing but Bruhl and - revenge. Even the absurd care with which Simon avoided the neighbourhood - of Fanchette, riding anywhere so long as he might ride at a distance from - the angry woman’s tongue and hand—which provoked many a laugh from - the men, and came to be the joke of the company—failed to draw a - smile from me. - </p> - <p> - We passed through Contres, four leagues from Blois, an hour after noon, - and three hours later crossed the Cher at Selles, where we stayed awhile - to bait our horses. Here we had news of the party before us, and - henceforth had little doubt that Bruhl was making for the Limousin; a - district in which he might rest secure under the protection of Turenne, - and safely defy alike the King of France and the King of Navarre. The - greater the necessity, it was plain, for speed; but the roads in that - neighbourhood, and forward as far as Valancy, proved heavy and, foundrous, - and it was all we could do to reach Levroux with jaded horses three hours - after sunset. The probability that Bruhl would lie at Chateauroux, five - leagues farther on—for I could not conceive that under the - circumstances he would spare the women—would have led me to push - forward had it been possible; but the darkness and the difficulty of - finding a guide who would venture deterred me from the hopeless attempt, - and we stayed the night where we were. - </p> - <p> - Here we first heard of the plague; which was said to be ravaging - Chateauroux and all the country farther south. The landlord of the inn - would have regaled us with many stories of it, and particularly of the - swiftness with which men and even cattle succumbed to its attacks. But we - had other things to think of, and between anxiety and weariness had clean - forgotten the matter when we rose next morning. - </p> - <p> - We started shortly after daybreak, and for three leagues pressed on at - tolerable speed. Then, for no reason stated, our guide gave us the slip as - we passed through a wood, and was seen no more. We lost the road, and had - to retrace our steps. We strayed into a slough, and extracted ourselves - with difficulty. The man who was riding the bay I had purchased forgot the - secret which I had imparted to him, and got an ugly fall. En fin, after - all these mishaps it wanted little of noon, and less to exhaust our - patience, when at length we came in sight of Chateauroux. - </p> - <p> - Before entering the town we had still an adventure; for we came at a turn - in the road on a scene as surprising as it was at first inexplicable. A - little north of the town, in a coppice of box facing the south and west, - we happed suddenly on a rude encampment, consisting of a dozen huts and - booths, set back from the road and formed, some of branches of evergreen - trees laid clumsily together, and some of sacking stretched over poles. A - number of men and women of decent appearance lay on the short grass before - the booths, idly sunning themselves; or moved about, cooking and tending - fires, while a score of children raced to and fro with noisy shouts and - laughter. The appearance of our party on the scene caused an instant - panic. The women and children fled screaming into the wood, spreading the - sound of breaking branches farther and farther as they retreated; while - the men, a miserable pale-faced set, drew together, and seeming - half-inclined to fly also, regarded us with glances of fear and suspicion. - </p> - <p> - Remarking that their appearance and dress were not those of vagrants, - while the booths seemed to indicate little skill or experience in the - builders, I bade my companions halt, and advanced alone. - </p> - <p> - ‘What is the meaning of this, my men?’ I said, addressing the first group - I reached. ‘You seem to have come a-Maying before the time. Whence are - you?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘From Chateauroux,’ the foremost answered sullenly. His dress, now I saw - him nearer, seemed to be that of a respectable townsman. - </p> - <p> - ‘Why?’ I replied. ‘Have you no homes?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, we have homes,’ he answered with the same brevity. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then why, in God’s name, are you here?’ I retorted, marking the gloomy - air and downcast faces of the group. ‘Have you been harried?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, harried by the Plague!’ he answered bitterly. ‘Do you mean to say you - have not heard? In Chateauroux there is one man dead in three. Take my - advice, sir—you are a brave company—turn, and go home again.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Is it as bad as that?’ I exclaimed. I had forgotten the landlord’s - gossip, and the explanation struck me with the force of surprise. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, is it! Do you see the blue haze?’ he continued, pointing with a - sudden gesture to the lower ground before us, over which a light pall of - summery vapour hung still and motionless. ‘Do you see it? Well, under that - there is death! You may find food in Chateauroux, and stalls for your - horses, and a man to take money; for there are still men there. But cross - the Indre, and you will see sights worse than a battle-field a week old! - You will find no living soul in house or stable or church, but corpses - plenty. The land is cursed! cursed for heresy, some say! Half are dead, - and half are fled to the woods! And if you do not die of the plague, you - will starve.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘God forbid!’ I muttered, thinking with a shudder of those before us. This - led me to ask him if a party resembling ours in number, and including two - women, had passed that way. He answered, Yes, after sunset the evening - before; that their horses were stumbling with fatigue and the men swearing - in pure weariness. He believed that they had not entered the town, but had - made a rude encampment half a mile beyond it; and had again broken this - up, and ridden southwards two or three hours before our arrival. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then we may overtake them to-day?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘By your leave, sir,’ he answered, with grave meaning. ‘I think you are - more likely to meet them.’ - </p> - <p> - Shrugging my shoulders, I thanked him shortly and left him; the full - importance of preventing my men hearing what I had heard—lest the - panic which possessed these townspeople should seize on them also—being - already in my mind. Nevertheless the thought came too late, for on turning - my horse I found one of the foremost, a long, solemn-faced man, had - already found his way to Maignan’s stirrup; where he was dilating so - eloquently upon the enemy which awaited us southwards that the - countenances of half the troopers were as long as his own, and I saw - nothing for it but to interrupt his oration by a smart application of my - switch to his shoulders. Having thus stopped him, and rated him back to - his fellows, I gave the word to march. The men obeyed mechanically, we - swung into a canter, and for a moment the danger was over. - </p> - <p> - But I knew that it would recur again and again. Stealthily marking the - faces round me, and listening to the whispered talk which went on, I saw - the terror spread from one to another. Voices which earlier in the day had - been raised in song and jest grew silent. Great reckless fellows of - Maignan’s following, who had an oath and a blow for all comers, and to - whom the deepest ford seemed to be child’s play, rode with drooping heads - and knitted brows; or scanned with ill-concealed anxiety the strange haze - before us, through which the roofs of the town, and here and there a low - hill or line of poplars, rose to plainer view. Maignan himself, the - stoutest of the stout, looked grave, and had lost his swaggering air. Only - three persons preserved their SANG-FROID entire. Of these, M. d’Agen rode - as if he had heard nothing, and Simon Fleix as if he feared nothing; while - Fanchette, gazing eagerly forward, saw, it was plain, only one object in - the mist, and that was her Mistress’s face. - </p> - <p> - ‘We found the gates of the town open, and this, which proved to be the - herald of stranger sights, daunted the hearts of my men more than the most - hostile reception. As we entered, our horses’ hoofs, clattering loudly on - the pavement, awoke a hundred echoes in the empty houses to right and - left. The main street, flooded with sunshine, which made its desolation - seem a hundred times more formidable, stretched away before us, bare and - empty; or haunted only by a few slinking dogs, and prowling wretches, who - fled, affrighted at the unaccustomed sounds, or stood and eyed us - listlessly as me passed. A bell tolled; in the distance we heard the - wailing of women. The silent ways, the black cross which marked every - second door, the frightful faces which once or twice looked out from upper - windows and blasted our sight, infected my men with terror so profound and - so ungovernable that at last discipline was forgotten; and one shoving his - horse before another in narrow places, there was a scuffle to be first. - One, and then a second, began to trot. The trot grew into a shuffling - canter. The gates of the inn lay open, nay seemed to invite us to enter; - but no one turned or halted. Moved by a single impulse we pushed - breathlessly on and on, until the open country was reached, and we who had - entered the streets in silent awe, swept out and over the bridge as if the - fiend were at our heels. - </p> - <p> - That I shared in this flight causes me no shame even now, for my men were - at the time ungovernable, as the best-trained troops are when seized by - such panics; and, moreover, I could have done no good by remaining in the - town, where the strength of the contagion was probably greater and the inn - larder like to be as bare, as the hillside. Few towns are without a - hostelry outside the gates for the convenience of knights of the road or - those who would avoid the dues, and Chateauroux proved no exception to - this rule. A short half-mile from the walls we drew rein before a second - encampment raised about a wayside house. It scarcely needed the sound of - music mingled with brawling voices to inform us that the wilder spirits of - the town had taken refuge here, and were seeking to drown in riot and - debauchery, as I have seen happen in a besieged place, the remembrance of - the enemy which stalked abroad in the sunshine. Our sudden appearance, - while it put a stop to the mimicry of mirth, brought out a score of men - and women in every stage of drunkenness and dishevelment, of whom some, - with hiccoughs and loose gestures, cried to us to join them, while others - swore horridly at being recalled to the present, which, with the future, - they were endeavouring to forget. - </p> - <p> - I cursed them in return for a pack of craven wretches, and threatening to - ride down those who obstructed us, ordered my men forward; halting - eventually a quarter of a mile farther on, where a wood of groundling oaks - which still wore last year’s leaves afforded fair shelter. Afraid to leave - my men myself, lest some should stray to the inn and others desert - altogether, I requested M. d’Agen to return thither with Maignan and - Simon, and bring us what forage and food we required. This he did with - perfect success, though not until after a scuffle, in which Maignan showed - himself a match for a hundred. We watered the horses at a neighbouring - brook, and assigning two hours to rest and refreshment—a great part - of which M. d’Agen and I spent walking up and down in moody silence, each - immersed in his own thoughts—we presently took the road again with - renewed spirits. - </p> - <p> - But a panic is not easily shaken off, nor is any fear so difficult to - combat and defeat as the fear of the invisible. The terrors which food and - drink had for a time thrust out presently returned with sevenfold force. - Men looked uneasily in one another’s faces, and from them to the haze - which veiled all distant objects. They muttered of the heat, which was - sudden, strange, and abnormal at that time of the year. And by-and-by they - had other things to speak of. We met a man, who ran beside us and begged - of us, crying out in a dreadful voice that his wife and four children lay - unburied in the house. A little farther on, beside a well, the corpse of a - woman with a child at her breast lay poisoning the water; she had crawled - to it to appease her thirst, and died of the draught. Last of all, in, a - beech-wood near Lotier we came upon a lady living in her coach, with one - or two panic-stricken women for her only attendants. Her husband was in - Paris, she told me; half her servants were dead, the rest had fled. Still - she retained in a remarkable degree both courage and courtesy, and - accepting with fortitude my reasons and excuses for perforce leaving her - in such a plight, gave me a clear account of Bruhl and his party, who had - passed her some, hours before. The picture of this lady gazing after us - with perfect good-breeding, as we rode away at speed, followed by the - lamentations of her women, remains with me to this day; filling my mind at - once with admiration and melancholy. For, as I learned later, she fell ill - of the plague where we left her in the beech-wood, and died in a night - with both her servants. - </p> - <p> - The intelligence we had from her inspired us to push forward, sparing - neither spur nor horseflesh, in the hope that we might overtake Bruhl - before night should expose his captives to fresh hardships and dangers. - But the pitch to which the dismal sights and sounds I have mentioned, and - a hundred like them, had raised the fears of my following did much to balk - my endeavours. For a while, indeed, under the influence of momentary - excitement, they spurred their horses to the gallop, as if their minds - were made up to face the worst; but presently they checked them despite - all my efforts, and, lagging slowly and more slowly, seemed to lose all - spirit and energy. The desolation which met our eyes on every side, no - less than the death-like stillness which prevailed, even the birds, as it - seemed to us, being silent, chilled the most reckless to the heart. - Maignan’s face lost its colour, his voice its ring. As for the rest, - starting at a sound and wincing if a leather galled them, they glanced - backwards twice for once they looked forwards, and held themselves ready - to take to their heels and be gone at the least alarm. - </p> - <p> - Noting these signs, and doubting if I could trust even Maignan, I thought - it prudent to change my place, and falling to the rear, rode there with a - grim face and a pistol ready to my hand. It was not the least of my - annoyances that M. d’Agen appeared to be ignorant of any cause for - apprehension save such as lay before us, and riding on in the same gloomy - fit which had possessed him from the moment of starting, neither sought my - opinion nor gave his own, but seemed to have undergone so complete and - mysterious a change that I could think of one thing only that could have - power to effect so marvellous a transformation. I felt his presence a - trial rather than a help, and reviewing the course of our short - friendship, which a day or two before had been so great a delight to me—as - the friendship of a young man commonly is to one growing old—I - puzzled myself with much wondering whether there could be rivalry between - us. - </p> - <p> - Sunset, which was welcome to my company, since it removed the haze, which - they regarded with superstitious dread, found us still plodding through a - country of low ridges and shallow valleys, both clothed in oak-woods. Its - short brightness died away, and with it my last hope of surprising Bruhl - before I slept. Darkness fell upon us as we wended our way slowly down a - steep hillside where the path was so narrow and difficult as to permit - only one to descend at a time. A stream of some size, if we might judge - from the noise it made, poured through the ravine below us, and presently, - at the point where we believed the crossing to be, we espied a solitary - light shining in the blackness. To proceed farther was impossible, for the - ground grew more and more precipitous; and, seeing this, I bade Maignan - dismount, and leaving us where we were, go for a guide to the house from - which the light issued. - </p> - <p> - He obeyed, and plunging into the night, which in that pit; between the - hills was of an inky darkness, presently returned with a peasant and a - lanthorn. I was about to bid the man guide us to the ford, or to some - level ground where we could picket the horses, when Maignan gleefully - cried out that he had news. I asked what news. - </p> - <p> - ‘Speak up, MANANT!’ he said, holding up his lanthorn so that the light - fell on the man’s haggard face and unkempt hair. ‘Tell his Excellency what - you have told me, or I will skin you alive, little man!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Your other party came to the ford an hour before sunset,’ the peasant - answered, staring dully at us. ‘I saw them coming, and hid myself. They - quarrelled by the ford. Some were for crossing, and some not.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘They had ladies with them?’ M. d’Agen said suddenly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, two, your Excellency,’ the clown answered, ‘riding like men. In the - end they did not cross for fear of the plague, but turned up the river, - and rode westwards towards St. Gaultier.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘St. Gaultier!’ I said, ‘Where is that? Where does the road to it go to - besides?’ - </p> - <p> - But the peasant’s knowledge was confined to his own neighbourhood. He knew - no world beyond St. Gaultier, and could not answer my question. I was - about to bid him show us the way down, when Maignan cried out that he knew - more. - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ I asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘Arnidieu! he heard them say where they were going to spend the night!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ha!’ I cried. ‘Where?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘In an old ruined castle two leagues from this, and between here and St. - Gaultier,’ the equerry answered, forgetting in his triumph both plague and - panic. ‘What do you say to that, your Excellency? It is so, sirrah, is it - not?’ he continued, turning to the peasant. ‘Speak, Master Jacques, or I - will roast you before a slow fire!’ - </p> - <p> - But I did not wait to hear the answer. Leaping to the ground, I took the - Cid’s rein on my arm, and cried impatiently to the man to lead us down. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CASTLE ON THE HILL. - </h2> - <p> - The certainty that Bruhl and his captives were not far off, and the - likelihood that we might be engaged within the hour, expelled from the - minds of even the most timorous among us the vapourish fears which had - before haunted them. In the hurried scramble which presently landed us on - the bank of the stream, men who had ridden for hours in sulky silence - found their voices, and from cursing their horses’ blunders soon advanced - to swearing and singing after the fashion of their kind. This change, by - relieving me of a great fear, left me at leisure to consider our position, - and estimate more clearly than I might have done the advantages of - hastening, or postponing, an attack. We numbered eleven; the enemy, to the - best of my belief, twelve. Of this slight superiority I should have reeked - little in the daytime; nor, perhaps, counting Maignan as two, have allowed - that it existed. But the result of a night attack is more difficult to - forecast; and I had also to take into account the perils to which the two - ladies would be exposed, between the darkness and tumult, in the event of - the issue remaining for a time in doubt. - </p> - <p> - These considerations, and particularly the last, weighed so powerfully - with me, that before I reached the bottom of the gorge I had decided to - postpone the attack until morning. The answers to some questions which I - put to the inhabitant of the house by the ford as soon as I reached level - ground only confirmed me in this resolution. The road Bruhl had taken ran - for a distance by the riverside, and along the bottom of the gorge; and, - difficult by day, was reported to be impracticable for horses by night. - The castle he had mentioned lay full two leagues away, and on the farther - edge of a tract of rough woodland. Finally, I doubted whether, in the - absence of any other reason for delay, I could have marched my men, weary - as they were, to the place before daybreak. - </p> - <p> - When I came to announce this decision, however, and to inquire what - accommodation the peasant could afford us, I found myself in trouble. - Fanchette, mademoiselle’s woman, suddenly confronted me, her face scarlet - with rage. Thrusting herself forward into the circle of light cast by the - lanthorn, she assailed me with a virulence and fierceness which said more - for her devotion to her mistress than her respect for me. Her wild - gesticulations, her threats, and the appeals which she made now to me, and - now to the men who stood in a circle round us, their faces in shadow, - discomfited as much as they surprised me. - </p> - <p> - ‘What!’ she cried violently, ‘you call yourself a gentleman, and lie here - and let my mistress be murdered, or worse, within a league of you! Two - leagues? A groat for your two leagues! I would walk them barefoot, if that - would shame you. And you, you call yourselves men, and suffer it! It is - God’s truth you are a set of cravens and sluggards. Give me as many women, - and I would—’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Peace, woman!’ Maignan said in his deep voice. ‘You had your way and came - with us, and you will obey orders as well as another! Be off, and see to - the victuals before worse happen to you!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, see to the victuals!’ she retorted. ‘See to the victuals, forsooth! - That is all you think of—to lie warm and eat your fill! A set of - dastardly, drinking, droning guzzlers you are! You are!’ she retorted, her - voice rising to a shriek. ‘May the plague take you!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Silence!’ Maignan growled fiercely, ‘or have a care to yourself! For a - copper-piece I would send you to cool your heels in the water below—for - that last word! Begone, do you hear,’ he continued, seizing her by the - shoulder and thrusting her towards the house, ‘or worse may happen to you. - We are rough customers, as you will find if you do not lock up your - tongue!’ - </p> - <p> - I heard her go wailing into the darkness; and Heaven knows it was not - without compunction I forced myself to remain inactive in the face of a - devotion which seemed so much greater than mine. The men fell away one by - one to look to their horses and choose sleeping-quarters for the night; - and presently M. d’Agen and I were left alone standing beside the - lanthorn, which the man had hung on a bush before his door. The brawling - of the water as it poured between the banks, a score of paces from us, and - the black darkness which hid everything beyond the little ring of light in - which we stood—so that for all we could see we were in a pit—had - the air of isolating us from all the world. - </p> - <p> - I looked at the young man, who had not once lisped that day; and I plainly - read in his attitude his disapproval of my caution. Though he declined to - meet my eye, he stood with his arms folded and his head thrown back, - making no attempt to disguise the scorn and ill-temper which his face - expressed. Hurt by the woman’s taunts, and possibly shaken in my opinion, - I grew restive under his silence, and unwisely gave way to my feelings. - </p> - <p> - ‘You do not appear to approve of my decision, M. d’Agen?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘It is yours to command, sir,’ he answered proudly. - </p> - <p> - There are truisms which have more power to annoy than the veriest - reproaches. I should have borne in mind the suspense and anxiety he was - suffering, and which had so changed him that I scarcely knew him for the - gay young spark on whose toe I had trodden. I should have remembered that - he was young and I old, and that it behoved me to be patient. But on my - side also there was anxiety, and responsibility as well; and, above all, a - rankling soreness, to which I refrain from giving the name of jealousy, - though it came as near to that feeling as the difference in our ages and - personal advantages (whereof the balance was all on his side) would - permit. This, no doubt, it was which impelled me to continue the argument. - </p> - <p> - ‘You would go on?’ I said persistently. - </p> - <p> - ‘It is idle to say what I would do,’ he answered with a flash of anger. - </p> - <p> - ‘I asked for your opinion, sir,’ I rejoined stiffly. - </p> - <p> - ‘To what purpose?’ he retorted, stroking his small moustache haughtily, - ‘We look at the thing from opposite points. You, are going about your - business, which appears to be the rescuing of ladies who are—may I - venture to say it? so unfortunate as to entrust themselves to your charge. - I, M. de Marsac, am more deeply interested. More deeply interested,’ he - repeated lamely. ‘I—in a word, I am prepared, sir, to do what others - only talk of—and if I cannot follow otherwise, would follow on my - feet!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Whom?’ I asked curtly, stung by this repetition of my own words. - </p> - <p> - He laughed harshly and bitterly. ‘Why explain? or why quarrel?’ he replied - cynically. ‘God knows, if I could afford to quarrel with you, I should - have done so fifty hours ago. But I need your help; and, needing it, I am - prepared to do that which must seem to a person of your calm passions and - perfect judgment alike futile and incredible—pay the full price for - it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The full price for it!’ I muttered, understanding nothing, except that I - did not understand. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, the full price for it!’ he repeated. And as he spoke he looked at me - with an expression of rage so fierce that I recoiled a step. That seemed - to restore him in some degree to himself, for without giving me an - opportunity of answering he turned hastily from me, and, striding away, - was in a moment lost in the darkness. - </p> - <p> - He left me amazed beyond measure. I stood repeating his phrase about ‘the - full price’ a hundred times over, but still found it and his passion - inexplicable. To cut the matter short, I could come to no other conclusion - than that he desired to insult me, and aware of my poverty and the - equivocal position in which I stood towards mademoiselle, chose his words - accordingly. This seemed a thing unworthy of one of whom I had before - thought highly; but calmer reflection enabling me to see something of - youthful bombast in the tirade he had delivered, I smiled a little sadly, - and determined to think no more of the matter for the present, but to - persist firmly in that which seemed to me to be the right course. - </p> - <p> - Having settled this, I was about to enter the house, when Maignan stopped - me, telling me that the plague had killed five people in it, letting only - the man we had seen; who had, indeed, been seized, but recovered. This - ghastly news had scared my company to such a degree that they had gone as - far from the house as the level ground permitted, and there lighted a - fire, round which they were going to pass the night. Fanchette had taken - up her quarters in the stable, and the equerry announced that he had kept - a shed full of sweet hay for M. d’Agen and myself. I assented to this - arrangement, and after supping off soup and black bread, which was all we - could procure, bade the peasant rouse us two hours before sunrise; and so, - being too weary and old in service to remain awake thinking, I fell - asleep, and slept; soundly till a little after four. - </p> - <p> - My first business on rising was to see that the men before mounting made a - meal, for it is ill work fighting empty. I went round also and saw that - all had their arms, and that such as carried pistols had them loaded and - primed. Francois did not put in an appearance until this work was done, - and then showed a very pale and gloomy countenance. I took no heed of him, - however, and with the first streak of daylight we started in single file - and at a snail’s pace up the valley, the peasant, whom I placed in - Maignan’s charge, going before to guide us, and M. d’Agen and I riding in - the rear. By the time the sun rose and warmed our chilled and shivering - frames we were over the worst of the ground, and were able to advance at - some speed along a track cut through a dense forest of oak-trees. - </p> - <p> - Though we had now risen out of the valley, the close-set trunks and the - undergrowth round them prevented our seeing in any direction. For a mile - or more we rode on blindly, and presently started on finding ourselves on - the brow of a hill, looking down into a valley, the nearer end of which - was clothed in woods, while the farther widened into green sloping - pastures. From the midst of these a hill or mount rose sharply up, until - it ended in walls of grey stone scarce to be distinguished at that - distance from the native rock on which they stood. - </p> - <p> - ‘See!’ cried our guide. ‘There is the castle!’ - </p> - <p> - Bidding the men dismount in haste, that the chance of our being seen by - the enemy—which was not great—might be farther lessened, I - began to inspect the position at leisure; my first feeling while doing so - being one of thankfulness that I had not attempted a night attack, which - must inevitably have miscarried, possibly with loss to ourselves, and - certainly with the result of informing the enemy of our presence. The - castle, of which we had a tolerable view, was long and narrow in shape, - consisting of two towers connected by walls, The nearer tower, through - which lay the entrance, was roofless, and in every way seemed to be more - ruinous than the inner one, which appeared to be perfect in both its - stories. This defect notwithstanding, the place was so strong that my - heart sank lower the longer I looked; and a glance at Maignan’s face - assured me that his experience was also at fault. For M. d’Agen, I clearly - saw, when I turned to him, that he had never until this moment realised - what we had to expect, but, regarding our pursuit in the light of a - hunting-party, had looked to see it end in like easy fashion. His blank, - surprised face, as he stood eyeing the stout grey walls, said as much as - this. - </p> - <p> - ‘Arnidieu!’ Maignan muttered, ‘give me ten men, and I would hold it - against a hundred!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, man, There is more than one way to Rome!’ I answered oracularly, - though I was far from feeling as confident as I seemed. ‘Come, let us - descend and view this nut a little nearer.’ - </p> - <p> - We began to trail downwards in silence, and as the path let us for a - while, out of sight of the castle, we were able to proceed with less - caution. We had nearly reached without adventure the father skirts of the - wood, between which and the ruin lay an interval of open ground, when we - came suddenly, at the edge of a little clearing, on an old hag; who was so - intent; upon tying up faggots that she did not see us until Maignan’s hand - was on her shoulder. When she did, she screamed out, and escaping from him - with an activity wonderful in a woman of her age, ran with great swiftness - to the side of an old man who lay at the foot of a tree half a bowshot - off; and whom we had not before seen. Snatching up an axe, she put herself - in a posture of defence before him with gestures and in a manner as - touching in the eyes of some among us as they were ludicrous in those of - others; who cried to Maignan that he had met his match at last, with other - gibes of the kind that pass current in camps. - </p> - <p> - I called to him to let her be, and went forward myself to the old man, who - lay on a rude bed of leaves, and seemed unable to rise. Appealing to me - with a face of agony not to hurt his wife, he bade her again and again lay - down her axe; but she would not do this until I had assured her that we - meant him no harm, and that my men should molest neither the one nor the - other. - </p> - <p> - ‘We only want to know this,’ I said, speaking slowly, in fear lest my - language should be little more intelligible to them than their PATOIS to - me. ‘There are a dozen horsemen in the old castle there, are there not?’ - </p> - <p> - The man stilled his wife, who continued to chatter and mow at us, and - answered eagerly that there were; adding, with a trembling oath, that the - robbers had beaten him, robbed him of his small store of meal, and when he - would have protested, thrown him out, breaking his leg. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then how came you here?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘She brought me on her back,’ he answered feebly. - </p> - <p> - Doubtless there were men in my train who would have done all that these - others had done; but hearing the simple story told, they stamped and swore - great oaths of indignation; and one, the roughest of the party, took out - some black bread and gave it to the woman, whom under other circumstances - he would not have hesitated to rob. Maignan, who knew all arts - appertaining to war, examined the man’s leg and made a kind of cradle for - it, while I questioned the woman. - </p> - <p> - ‘They are there still?’ I said. ‘I saw their horses tethered under the - walls.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, God requite them!’ she answered, trembling violently. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tell me about the castle, my good woman,’ I said. ‘How many roads into it - are there?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Only one.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Through the nearer tower?’ - </p> - <p> - She said yes, and finding that she understood me, and was less dull of - intellect than her wretched appearance led me to expect, I put a series of - questions to her which it would be tedious to detail. Suffice it that I - learned that it was impossible to enter or leave the ruin except through - the nearer tower; that a rickety temporary gate barred the entrance, and - that from this tower, which was a mere shell of four walls, a narrow - square-headed doorway without a door led into the court, beyond which rose - the habitable tower of two stories. - </p> - <p> - ‘Do you know if they intend to stay there?’ I asked - </p> - <p> - ‘Oh, ay, they bade me bring them faggots for their fire this morning, and - I should have a handful of my own meal back,’ she answered bitterly; and - fell thereon into a passion of impotent rage, shaking both her clenched - hands in the direction of the castle, and screaming frenzied maledictions - in her cracked and quavering voice. - </p> - <p> - I pondered awhile over what she had said; liking very little the thought - of that narrow square-headed doorway through which we must pass before we - could effect anything. And the gate, too, troubled me. It might not be a - strong one, but we had neither powder, nor guns, nor any siege implements, - and could not pull down stone walls with our naked hands. By seizing the - horses we could indeed cut off Bruhl’s retreat; but he might still escape - in the night; and in any case our pains would only increase the women’s - hardships while adding fuel to his rage. We must have some other plan. - </p> - <p> - The sun was high by this time; the edge of the wood scarcely a hundred - paces from us. By advancing a few yards through the trees I could see the - horses feeding peacefully at the foot of the sunny slope, and even follow - with my eyes the faint track which zigzagged up the hill to the closed - gate. No one appeared—doubtless they were sleeping off the fatigue - of the journey—and I drew no inspiration thence; but as I turned to - consult Maignan my eye lit on the faggots, and I saw in a flash that here - was a chance of putting into practice a stratagem as old as the hills, yet - ever fresh, and not seldom successful. - </p> - <p> - It was no time for over-refinement. My knaves were beginning to stray - forward out of curiosity, and at any moment one of our horses, scenting - those of the enemy, might neigh and give the alarm. Hastily calling M. - d’Agen and Maignan to me, I laid my plan before them, and satisfied myself - that it had their approval; the fact that I had reserved a special part - for the former serving to thaw the reserve which had succeeded to his - outbreak of the night before. After some debate Maignan persuaded me that - the old woman had not sufficient nerve to play the part I proposed for - her, and named Fanchette; who being called into council, did not belie the - opinion we had formed of her courage. In a few moments our preparations - were complete: I had donned the old charcoal-burner’s outer rags, - Fanchette had assumed those of the woman, while M. d’Agen, who was for a - time at a loss, and betrayed less taste for this part of the plan than for - any other, ended by putting on the jerkin and hose of the man who had - served us as guide. - </p> - <p> - When all was ready I commended the troop to Maignan’s discretion, charging - him in the event of anything happening to us to continue the most - persistent efforts for mademoiselle’s release, and on no account to - abandon her. Having received his promise to this effect, and being - satisfied that he would keep it, we took up each of us a great faggot, - which being borne on the head and shoulders served to hide the features - very effectually; and thus disguised we boldly left the shelter of the - trees. Fanchette and I went first, tottering in a most natural fashion - under the weight of our burdens, while M. d’Agen followed a hundred yards - behind. I had given Maignan orders to make a dash for the gate the moment - he saw the last named start to run. - </p> - <p> - The perfect stillness of the valley, the clearness of the air, and the - absence of any sign of life in the castle before us—which might have - been that of the Sleeping Princess, so fairy-like it looked against the - sky—with the suspense and excitement in our own breasts, which these - peculiarities seemed to increase a hundred-fold, made the time that - followed one of the strangest in my experience. It was nearly ten o’clock, - and the warm sunshine flooding everything about us rendered the ascent, - laden as we were, laborious in the extreme. The crisp, short turf, which - had scarcely got its spring growth, was slippery and treacherous. We dared - not hasten, for we knew not what eyes were upon us, and we dared as little - after we had gone half-way—lay our faggots down, lest the action - should disclose too much of our features. - </p> - <p> - When we had reached a point within a hundred paces of the gate, which - still remained obstinately closed, we stood to breathe ourselves, and - balancing my bundle on my head, I turned to make sure that all was right - behind us. I found that M. d’Agen, intent on keeping his distance, had - chosen the same moment for rest, and was sitting in a very natural manner - on his faggot, mopping his face with the sleeve of his jerkin. I scanned - the brown leafless wood, in which we had left Maignan and our men; but I - could detect no glitter among the trees nor any appearance likely to - betray us. Satisfied on these points, I muttered a few words of - encouragement to Fanchette, whose face was streaming with perspiration; - and together we turned and addressed ourselves to our task, fatigue—for - we had had no practice in carrying burdens on the head—enabling us - to counterfeit the decrepitude of age almost to the life. - </p> - <p> - The same silence prevailing as we drew nearer inspired me with not a few - doubts and misgivings. Even the bleat of a sheep would have been welcome - in the midst of a stillness which seemed ominous. But no sheep bleated, no - voice hailed us. The gate, ill-hung and full of fissures, remained closed. - Step by step we staggered up to it, and at length reached it. Afraid to - speak lest my accent should betray me, I struck the forepart of my faggot - against it and waited: doubting whether our whole stratagem had not been - perceived from the beginning, and a pistol-shot might not be the retort. - </p> - <p> - Nothing of the kind happened, however. The sound of the blow, which echoed - dully through the building, died away, and the old silence resumed its - sway. We knocked again, but fully two minutes elapsed before a grumbling - voice, as of a man aroused from sleep, was heard drawing near, and - footsteps came slowly and heavily to the gate. Probably the fellow - inspected us through a loophole, for he paused a moment, and my heart - sank; but the next, seeing nothing suspicious, he unbarred the gate with a - querulous oath, and, pushing it open, bade us enter and be quick about it. - </p> - <p> - I stumbled forward into the cool, dark shadow, and the woman followed me, - while the man, stepping out with a yawn, stood in the entrance, stretching - himself in the sunshine. The roofless tower, which smelled dank and - unwholesome, was empty, or cumbered only with rubbish and heaps of stones; - but looking through the inner door I saw in the courtyard a smouldering - fire and half a dozen men in the act of rousing themselves from sleep. I - stood a second balancing my faggot, as if in doubt where to lay it down; - and then assuring myself by a swift glance that the man who had let us in - still had his back towards us, I dropped it across the inner doorway, - Fanchette, as she had been instructed, plumped hers upon it, and at the - same moment I sprang to the door, and taking the man there by surprise, - dealt him a violent blow between the shoulders, which sent him headlong - down the slope. - </p> - <p> - A cry behind me, followed by an oath of alarm, told me that the action was - observed and that now was the pinch. In a second I was back at the - faggots, and drawing a pistol from under my blouse was in time to meet the - rush of the nearest man, who, comprehending all, sprang up, and made for - me, with his sheathed sword. I shot him in the chest as he cleared the - faggots—which, standing nearly as high as a man’s waist, formed a - tolerable obstacle—and he pitched forward at my feet. - </p> - <p> - This balked his companions, who drew back; but unfortunately it was - necessary for me to stoop to get my sword, which was hidden in the faggot - I had carried. The foremost of the rascals took advantage of this. Rushing - at me with a long knife, he failed to stab me—for I caught his wrist—but - he succeeded in bringing me to the ground. I thought I was undone. I - looked to have the others swarm over upon us; and so it would doubtless - have happened had not Fanchette, with rare courage, dealt the first who - followed a lusty blow on the body with a great stick she snatched up. The - man collapsed on the faggots, and this hampered the rest. The check was - enough. It enabled M. d’Agen to come up, who, dashing in through the gate, - shot down the first he saw before him, and running at the doorway with his - sword with incredible fury and the courage which I had always known him to - possess, cleared it in a twinkling. The man with whom I was engaged on the - ground, seeing what had happened, wrested himself free with the strength - of despair, and dashing through the outer door, narrowly escaped being - ridden down by my followers as they swept up to the gate at a gallop, and - dismounted amid a whirlwind of cries. - </p> - <p> - In a moment they thronged in on us pell-mell, and as soon as I could lay - my hand on my sword I led them through the doorway with a cheer, hoping to - be able to enter the farther tower with the enemy. But the latter had - taken the alarm too early and too thoroughly. The court was empty. We were - barely in time to see the last man dart up a flight of outside stairs, - which led to the first story, and disappear, closing a heavy door behind - him. I rushed to the foot of the steps and would have ascended also, - hoping against hope to find the door unsecured; but a shot which was fired - through a loop hole and narrowly missed my head, and another which brought - down one of my men, made me pause. Discerning all the advantage to be on - Bruhl’s side, since he could shoot us down from his cover, I cried a - retreat; the issue of the matter leaving us masters of the entrance-tower, - while they retained the inner and stronger tower, the narrow court between - the two being neutral ground unsafe for either party. - </p> - <p> - Two of their men had fled outwards and were gone, and two lay dead; while - the loss on our side was confined to the man who was shot, and Fanchette, - who had received a blow on the head in the MELEE, and was found, when we - retreated, lying sick and dazed against the wall. - </p> - <p> - It surprised me much, when I came to think upon it, that I had seen - nothing of Bruhl, though the skirmish had lasted two or three minutes from - the first outcry, and been attended by an abundance of noise. Of Fresnoy, - too, I now remembered that I had caught a glimpse only. These two facts - seemed so strange that I was beginning to augur the worst, though I - scarcely know why, when my spirits were marvellously raised and my fears - relieved by a thing which Maignan, who was the first to notice it, pointed - out to me. This was the appearance at an upper window of a white - ‘kerchief, which was waved several times towards us. The window was little - more than an arrow-slit, and so narrow and high besides that it was - impossible to see who gave the signal; but my experience of mademoiselle’s - coolness and resource left me in no doubt on the point. With high hopes - and a lighter heart than I had worn for some time I bestirred myself to - take every precaution, and began by bidding Maignan select two men and - ride round the hill, to make sure that the enemy had no way of retreat - open to him. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIX. PESTILENCE AND FAMINE. - </h2> - <p> - While Maignan was away about this business I despatched two men to catch - our horses, which were running loose in the valley, and to remove those of - Bruhl’s party to a safe distance from the castle. I also blocked up the - lower part of the door leading into the courtyard, and named four men to - remain under arms beside it, that we might not be taken by surprise; an - event of which I had the less fear, however, since the enemy were now - reduced to eight swords, and could only escape, as we could only enter, - through this doorway. I was still busied with these arrangements when M. - d’Agen joined me, and I broke off to compliment him on his courage, - acknowledging in particular the service he had done me personally. The - heat of the conflict had melted the young man’s reserve, and flushed his - face with pride; but as he listened to me he gradually froze again, and - when I ended he regarded me with the same cold hostility. - </p> - <p> - ‘I am obliged to you,’ he said, bowing. ‘But may I ask what next, M. de - Marsac?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘We have no choice,’ I answered. ‘We can only starve them out.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But the ladies?’ he said, starting slightly. ‘What of them?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘They will suffer less than the men,’ I replied. ‘Trust me, the latter - will not bear starving long.’ - </p> - <p> - He seemed surprised, but I explained that with our small numbers we could - not hope to storm the tower, and might think ourselves fortunate that we - now had the enemy cooped up where he could not escape, and must eventually - surrender. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, but in the meantime how will you ensure the women against violence?’ - he asked, with an air which showed he was far from satisfied. - </p> - <p> - ‘I will see to that when Maignan comes back,’ I answered pretty - confidently. - </p> - <p> - The equerry appeared in a moment with the assurance that egress from the - farther side of the tower was impossible. I bade him nevertheless keep a - horseman moving round the hill, that we might have intelligence of any - attempt. The order was scarcely given when a man—one of those I had - left on guard at the door of the courtyard—came to tell me that - Fresnoy desired to speak with me on behalf of M. de Bruhl. - </p> - <p> - ‘Where is he?’ I asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘At the inner door with a flag of truce,’ was the answer. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tell him, then,’ I said, without offering to move, ‘that I will - communicate with no one except his leader, M. de Bruhl. And add this, my - friend,’ I continued. ‘Say it aloud that if the ladies whom he has in - charge are injured by so much as a hair, I will hang every man within - these walls, from M. de Bruhl to the youngest lackey.’ And I added a - solemn oath to that effect. - </p> - <p> - The man nodded, and went on his errand, while I and M. d’Agen, with - Maignan, remained standing outside the gate, looking idly over the valley - and the brown woods through which we had ridden in the early morning. My - eyes rested chiefly on the latter, Maignan’s as it proved on the former. - Doubtless we all had our own thoughts. Certainly I had, and for a while, - in my satisfaction at the result of the attack and the manner in which we - had Bruhl confined, I did not remark the gravity which was gradually - overspreading the equerry’s countenance. When I did I took the alarm, and - asked him sharply what was the matter. ‘I don’t like that, your - Excellency,’ he answered, pointing into the valley. - </p> - <p> - I looked anxiously, and looked, and saw nothing. - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ I said in astonishment. - </p> - <p> - ‘The blue mist,’ he muttered, with a shiver. ‘I have been watching it this - half-hour, your Excellency. It is rising fast.’ - </p> - <p> - I cried out on him for a maudlin fool, and M. d’Agen swore impatiently; - but for all that, and despite the contempt I strove to exhibit, I felt a - sudden chill at my heart as I recognised in the valley below the same blue - haze which had attended us through yesterday’s ride, and left us only at - nightfall. Involuntarily we both fell to watching it as it rose slowly and - more slowly, first enveloping the lower woods, and then spreading itself - abroad in the sunshine. It is hard to witness a bold man’s terror and - remain unaffected by it; and I confess I trembled. Here, in the moment of - our seeming success, was something which I had not taken into account, - something against which I could not guard either myself or others! - </p> - <p> - ‘See!’ Maignan whispered hoarsely, pointing again with his linger. ‘It is - the Angel of Death, your Excellency! Where he kills by ones and twos, he - is invisible. But when he slays by hundreds and by thousands, men see the - shadow of his wings!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Chut, fool!’ I retorted with, anger, which was secretly proportioned to - the impression his weird saying made on me. ‘You have been in battles! Did - you ever see him there? or at a sack? A truce to this folly,’ I continued. - ‘And do you go and inquire what food we have with us. It may be necessary - to send for some.’ - </p> - <p> - I watched him go doggedly off, and knowing the stout nature of the man and - his devotion to his master, I had no fear that he would fail us; but there - were others, almost as necessary to us, in whom I could not place the same - confidence. And these had also taken the alarm. When I turned I found - groups of pale-faced men, standing by twos and threes at my back; who, - pointing and muttering and telling one another what Maignan had told us, - looked where we had looked. As one spoke and another listened, I saw the - old panic revive in their eyes. Men who an hour or two before had crossed - the court under fire with the utmost resolution, and dared instant death - without a thought, grew pale, and looking from this side of the valley to - that; with faltering eyes, seemed to be seeking, like hunted animals, a - place of refuge. Fear, once aroused, hung in the air. Men talked in - whispers of the abnormal heat, and, gazing at the cloudless sky, fled from - the sunshine to the shadow; or, looking over the expanse of woods, longed - to be under cover and away from this lofty eyrie, which to their morbid - eyes seemed a target for all the shafts of death. - </p> - <p> - ‘I was not slow to perceive the peril with which these fears and - apprehensions, which rapidly became general, threatened my plans. I strove - to keep the men employed, and to occupy their thoughts as far as possible - with the enemy and his proceedings; but I soon found that even here a - danger lurked; for Maignan, coming to me by-and-by with a grave face, told - me that one of Bruhl’s men had ventured out, and was parleying with the - guard on our side of the court. I went at once and broke the matter off, - threatening to shoot the fellow if he was not under cover before I counted - ten. But the scared, sultry faces he left behind him told me that the - mischief was done, and I could think of no better remedy for it than to - give M. d’Agen a hint, and station him at the outer gate with his pistols - ready. - </p> - <p> - The question of provisions, too, threatened to become a serious one; I - dared not leave to procure them myself, nor could I trust any of my men - with the mission. In fact the besiegers were rapidly becoming the - besieged. Intent on the rising haze and their own terrors, they forgot all - else. Vigilance and caution were thrown to the winds. The stillness of the - valley, its isolation, the distant woods that encircled us and hung - quivering in the heated air, all added to the panic. Despite all my - efforts and threats, the men gradually left their posts, and getting - together in little parties at the gate, worked themselves up to such a - pitch of dread that by two hours after noon they were fit for any folly; - and at the mere cry of ‘plague!’ would have rushed to their horses and - ridden in every direction. - </p> - <p> - It was plain that I could depend for useful service on myself and three - others only—of whom, to his credit be it said, Simon Fleix was one. - Seeing this, I was immensely relieved when I presently heard that Fresnoy - was again seeking to speak with me. I was no longer, it will be believed, - for standing on formalities; but glad to waive in silence the punctilio on - which I had before insisted, and anxious to afford him no opportunity of - marking the slackness which prevailed among my men, I hastened to meet him - at the door of the courtyard where Maignan had detained him. - </p> - <p> - I might have spared my pains, however. I had no more than saluted him and - exchanged the merest preliminaries before I saw that he was in a state of - panic far exceeding that of my following. His coarse face, which had never - been prepossessing, was mottled and bedabbled with sweat; his bloodshot - eyes, when they met mine, wore the fierce yet terrified expression of an - animal caught in a trap. Though his first word was an oath, sworn for the - purpose of raising his courage, the bully’s bluster was gone. He spoke in - a low voice, and his hands shook; and for a penny-piece I saw he would - have bolted past me and taken his chance in open flight. - </p> - <p> - I judged from his first words, uttered, as I have said, with an oath, that - he was aware of his state. ‘M. de Marsac,’ he said, whining like a cur, - ‘you know me, to be a man of courage.’ - </p> - <p> - I needed nothing after this to assure me that he meditated something of - the basest; and I took care how I answered him. ‘I have known you stiff - enough upon occasions,’ I replied drily. ‘And then, again, I have known - you not so stiff, M. Fresnoy.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Only when you were in question,’ he muttered with another oath. ‘But - flesh and blood cannot stand this. You could not yourself. Between him and - them I am fairly worn out. Give me good terms—good terms, you - understand, M. de Marsac?’ he whispered eagerly, sinking his voice still - lower, ‘and you shall have all you want.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Your lives, and liberty to go where you please,’ I answered coldly. ‘The - two ladies to be first given up to me uninjured. Those are the terms.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But for me?’ he said anxiously. - </p> - <p> - ‘For you? The same as the others,’ I retorted. ‘Or I will make a - distinction for old acquaintance sake, M. Fresnoy; and if the ladies have - aught to complain of, I will hang you first.’ - </p> - <p> - He tried to bluster and hold out for a sum of money, or at least for his - horse to be given up to him. But I had made up my mind to reward my - followers with a present of a horse apiece; and I was besides well aware - that this was only an afterthought on his part, and that he had fully - decided to yield. I stood fast, therefore. The result justified my - firmness, for he presently agreed to surrender on those terms. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, but M. de Bruhl?’ I said, desiring to learn clearly whether he had - authority to treat for all. ‘What of him?’ - </p> - <p> - He looked at me impatiently. ‘Come and see!’ he said, with an ugly sneer. - </p> - <p> - ‘No, no, my friend,’ I answered, shaking my head warily. ‘That is not - according to rule. You are the surrendering party, and it is for you to - trust us. Bring out the ladies, that I may have speech with them, and then - I will draw off my men.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nom de Dieu!’ he cried hoarsely, with so much fear and rage in his face - that I recoiled from him. ‘That is just what I cannot do.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You cannot?’ I rejoined with a sudden thrill of horror. ‘Why not? why - not, man?’ And in the excitement of the moment, conceiving the idea that - the worst had happened to the women, I pushed him back with so much fury - that he laid his hand on his sword. - </p> - <p> - ‘Confound you!’ he stuttered, ‘stand back! It is not that, I tell you! - Mademoiselle is safe and sound, and madame, if she had her senses, would - be sound too. It is not our fault if she is not. But I have not got the - key of the rooms. It is in Bruhl’s pocket, I tell you!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Oh!’ I made answer drily. ‘And Bruhl?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Hush, man,’ Fresnoy replied, wiping the perspiration from his brow, and - bringing his pallid, ugly face, near to mine, ‘he has got the plague!’ - </p> - <p> - I stared at him for a moment in silence; which he was the first to break. - ‘Hush!’ he muttered again, laying a trembling hand on my arm, ‘if the men - knew it—and not seeing him they are beginning to suspect it—they - would rise on us. The devil himself could not keep them here. Between him - and them I am on a razor’s edge. Madame is with him, and the door is - locked. Mademoiselle is in a room upstairs, and the door is locked. And he - has the keys. What can I do? What can I do, man?’ he cried, his voice - hoarse with terror and dismay. - </p> - <p> - ‘Get the keys,’ I said instinctively. - </p> - <p> - ‘What?’ From him?’ he muttered, with an irrepressible shudder, which shook - his bloated cheeks. ‘God forbid I should see him! It takes stout men - infallibly. I should be dead by night! By God, I should!’ he continued, - whining. ‘Now you are not stout, M. de Marsac. If you will come with me I - will draw off the men from that part; and you may go in and get the key - from him.’ - </p> - <p> - His terror, which surpassed all feeling, and satisfied me without doubt - that he was in earnest, was so intense that it could not fail to infect - me. I felt my face, as I looked into his, grow to the same hue. I trembled - as he did and grew sick. For if there is a word which blanches the - soldier’s cheek and tries his heart more than another, it is the name of - the disease which travels in the hot noonday, and, tainting the strongest - as he rides in his pride, leaves him in a few hours a poor mass of - corruption. The stoutest and the most reckless fear it; nor could I, more - than another, boast myself indifferent to it, or think of its presence - without shrinking. But the respect in which a man of birth holds himself - saves him from the unreasoning fear which masters the vulgar; and in a - moment I recovered myself, and made up my mind what it behoved me to do. - </p> - <p> - ‘Wait awhile,’ I said sternly, ‘and I will come with you.’ - </p> - <p> - He waited accordingly, though with manifest impatience, while I sent for - M. d’Agen, and communicated to him what I was about to do. I did not think - it necessary to enter into details, or to mention Bruhl’s state, for some - of the men were well in hearing. I observed that the young gentleman - received my directions with a gloomy and dissatisfied air. But I had - become by this time so used to his moods, and found myself so much - mistaken in his character, that I scarcely gave the matter a second - thought. I crossed the court with Fresnoy, and in a moment had mounted the - outside staircase and passed through the heavy doorway. - </p> - <p> - The moment I entered, I was forced to do Fresnoy the justice of admitting - that he had not come to me before he was obliged. The three men who were - on guard inside tossed down their weapons at sight of me, while a fourth, - who was posted at a neighbouring window, hailed me with a cry of relief. - From the moment I crossed the threshold the defence was practically at an - end. I might, had I chosen or found it consistent with honour, have called - in my following and secured the entrance. Without pausing, however, I - passed on to the foot of a gloomy stone staircase winding up between walls - of rough masonry; and here Fresnoy stood on one side and stopped. He - pointed upwards with a pale face and muttered, ‘The door on the left.’ - </p> - <p> - Leaving him there watching me as I went upwards, I mounted slowly to the - landing, and by the light of an arrow-slit which dimly lit the ruinous - place found the door he had described, and tried it with my hand. It was - locked, but I heard someone moan in the room, and a step crossed the - floor, as if he or another came to the door and listened. I knocked, - hearing my heart beat in the silence. At last a voice quite strange to me - cried, ‘Who is it?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A friend,’ I muttered, striving to dull my voice that they might not hear - me below. - </p> - <p> - ‘A friend!’ the bitter answer came. ‘Go! You have made a mistake! We have - no friends.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is I, M. de Marsac,’ I rejoined, knocking more imperatively. ‘I would - see M. de Bruhl. I must see him.’ - </p> - <p> - The person inside, at whose identity I could now make a guess, uttered a - low exclamation, and still seemed to hesitate. But on my repeating my - demand I heard a rusty bolt withdrawn, and Madame de Bruhl, opening the - door a few inches, showed her face in the gap. ‘What do you want?’ she - murmured jealously. - </p> - <p> - Prepared as I was to see her, I was shocked by the change in her - appearance, a change which even that imperfect light failed to hide. Her - blue eyes had grown larger and harder, and there were dark marks under - them. Her face, once so brilliant, was grey and pinched; her hair had lost - its golden lustre. ‘What do you want?’ she repeated, eyeing me fiercely. - </p> - <p> - ‘To see him,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘You know?’ she muttered. ‘You know that he—’ - </p> - <p> - I nodded. - </p> - <p> - And you still want to come in? My God! Swear you will not hurt him?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Heaven forbid!’ I said; and on that she held the door open that I might - enter. But I was not half-way across the room before she had passed me, - and was again between me and the wretched makeshift pallet. Nay, when I - stood and looked down at him, as he moaned and rolled in senseless agony, - with livid face and distorted features (which the cold grey light of that - miserable room rendered doubly appalling), she hung over him and fenced - him from me: so that looking on him and her, and remembering how he had - treated her, and why he came to be in this place, I felt unmanly tears - rise to my eyes. The room was still a prison, a prison with broken mortar - covering the floor and loopholes for windows; but the captive was held by - other chains than those of force. When she might have gone free, her - woman’s love surviving all that he had done to kill it, chained her to his - side with fetters which old wrongs and present danger were powerless to - break. - </p> - <p> - It was impossible that I could view a scene so strange without feelings of - admiration as well as pity; or without forgetting for a while, in my - respect for Madame de Bruhl’s devotion, the risk which had seemed so great - to me on the stairs. I had come simply for a purpose of my own, and with - no thought of aiding him who lay here. But so great, as I have noticed on - other occasions, is the power of a noble example, that, before I knew it, - I found myself wondering what I could do to help this man, and how I could - relieve madame, in the discharge of offices which her husband had as - little right to expect at her hands as at mine. At the mere sound of the - word Plague I knew she would be deserted in this wilderness by all, or - nearly all; a reflection which suggested to me that I should first remove - mademoiselle to a distance, and then consider what help I could afford - here. - </p> - <p> - I was about to tell her the purpose with which I had come when a paroxysm - more than ordinarily violent, and induced perhaps by the excitement of my - presence—though he seemed beside himself—seized him, and - threatened to tax her powers to the utmost. I could not look on and see - her spend herself in vain; and almost before I knew what I was doing I had - laid my hands on him and after a brief struggle thrust him back exhausted - on the couch. - </p> - <p> - She looked at me so strangely after that that in the half-light which the - loopholes afforded I tried in vain to read her meaning. ‘Why did you - come?’ she cried at length, breathing quickly. ‘You, of all men? Why did - you come? He was no friend of yours, Heaven knows!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, madame, nor I of his,’ I answered bitterly, with a sudden revulsion - of feeling. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then why are you here?’ she retorted. - </p> - <p> - ‘I could not send one of my men,’ I answered. ‘And I want the key of the - room above.’ - </p> - <p> - At the mention of that the room above—she flinched as if I had - struck her, and looked as strangely at Bruhl as she had before looked at - me. No doubt the reference to Mademoiselle de la Vire recalled to her mind - her husband’s wild passion for the girl, which for the moment she had - forgotten. Nevertheless she did not speak, though her face turned very - pale. She stooped over the couch, such as it was, and searching his - clothes, presently stood up, and held out the key to me. ‘Take it, and let - her out,’ she said with a forced smile. ‘Take it up yourself, and do it. - You have done so much for her it is right that you should do this.’ - </p> - <p> - I took the key, thanking her with more haste than thought, and turned - towards the door, intending to go straight up to the floor above and - release mademoiselle. My hand was already on the door, which madame, I - found, had left ajar in the excitement of my entrance, when I heard her - step behind me. The next instant she touched me on the shoulder. ‘You - fool!’ she exclaimed, her eyes flashing, ‘would you kill her?’ Would you - go from him to her, and take the plague to her? God forgive me, it was in - my mind to send you. And men are such puppets you would have gone!’ - </p> - <p> - I trembled with horror, as much at my stupidity as at her craft. For she - was right: in another moment I should have gone, and comprehension and - remorse would have come too late. As it was, in my longing at once to - reproach her for her wickedness and to thank her for her timely - repentance, I found no words; but I turned away in silence and went out - with a full heart. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXX. STRICKEN. - </h2> - <p> - Outside the door, standing in the dimness of the landing, I found M. - d’Agen. At any other time I should have been the first to ask him why he - had left the post which I had assigned to him. But at the moment I was off - my balance, and his presence suggested nothing more than that here was the - very person who could best execute my wishes. I held out the key to him at - arms length, and bade him release Mademoiselle de la Vire, who was in the - room above, and escort her out of the castle. ‘Do not let her linger - here,’ I continued urgently. ‘Take her to the place where we found the - wood-cutters. You need fear no resistance.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But Bruhl?’ he said, as he took the key mechanically from me. - </p> - <p> - ‘He is out of the question,’ I answered in a low voice. ‘We have done with - him. He has the plague.’ - </p> - <p> - He uttered a sharp exclamation. ‘What of madame, then?’ he muttered. - </p> - <p> - ‘She is with him,’ I said. - </p> - <p> - He cried out suddenly at that, sucking in his breath, as I have known men - do in pain. And but that I drew back he would have laid his hand on my - sleeve. ‘With him?’ he stammered. ‘How is that?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Why, man, where else should she be?’ I answered, forgetting that the - sight of those two together had at first surprised me also, as well as - moved me. ‘Or who else should be with him? He is her husband.’ - </p> - <p> - He stared at me for a moment at that, and then he turned slowly away and - began to go up; while I looked after him, gradually thinking out the clue - to his conduct. Could it be that it was not mademoiselle attracted him, - but Madame de Bruhl? - </p> - <p> - And with that hint I understood it all. I saw in a moment; the conclusion - to which he had come on hearing of the presence of madame in my room. In - my room at night! The change had dated from that time; instead of a - careless, light-spirited youth he had become in a moment a morose and - restive churl, as difficult to manage as an unbroken colt. Quite clearly I - saw now the meaning of the change; why he had shrunk from me, and why all - intercourse between us had been so difficult; and so constrained. - </p> - <p> - I laughed to think how he had deceived himself, and how nearly I had come - to deceiving myself also. And what more I might have thought I do not - know, for my meditations were cut short at this point by a loud outcry - below, which, beginning in one or two sharp cries of alarm and warning, - culminated quickly in a roar of anger and dismay. - </p> - <p> - Fancying I recognised Maignan’s voice, I ran down the stairs, seeking a - loophole whence I could command the scene; but finding none, and becoming - more and more alarmed, I descended to the court, which I found, to my - great surprise, as empty and silent as an old battle-field. Neither on the - enemy’s side nor on ours was a single man to be seen. With growing dismay - I sprang across the court and darted through the outer tower, only to find - that and the gateway equally unguarded. Nor was it until I had passed - through the latter, and stood on the brow of the slope, which we had had - to clamber with so much toil, that I learned what was amiss. - </p> - <p> - Far below me a string of men, bounding and running at speed, streamed down - the hill towards the horses. Some were shouting, some running silently, - with their elbows at their sides and their scabbards leaping against their - calves. The horses stood tethered in a ring near the edge of the wood, and - by some oversight had been left unguarded. The foremost runner I made out - to be Fresnoy; but a number of his men were close upon him, and then after - an interval came Maignan, waving his blade and emitting frantic threats - with every stride. Comprehending at once that Fresnoy and his following, - rendered desperate by panic and the prospective loss of their horses, had - taken advantage of my absence and given Maignan the slip, I saw I could do - nothing save watch the result of the struggle. - </p> - <p> - This was not long delayed. Maignan’s threats, which seemed to me mere - waste of breath, were not without effect on those he followed. There is - nothing which demoralises men like flight. Troopers who have stood charge - after charge while victory was possible will fly like sheep, and like - sheep allow themselves to be butchered, when they have once turned the - back. So it was here. Many of Fresnoy’s men were stout fellows, but having - started to run they had no stomach for fighting. Their fears caused - Maignan to appear near, while the horses seemed distant; and one after - another they turned aside and made like rabbits for the wood. Only - Fresnoy, who had taken care to have the start of all, kept on, and, - reaching the horses, cut the rope which tethered the nearest, and vaulted - nimbly on its back. Safely seated there, he tried to frighten the others - into breaking loose; but not succeeding at the first attempt, and seeing - Maignan, breathing vengeance, coming up with him, he started his horse, a - bright bay, and rode off laughing along the edge of the wood. - </p> - <p> - Fully content with the result—for our carelessness might have cost - us very dearly—I was about to turn away when I saw that Maignan had - mounted and was preparing to follow. I stayed accordingly to see the end, - and from my elevated position enjoyed a first-rate view of the race which - ensued. Both were heavy weights, and at first Maignan gained no ground. - But when a couple of hundred yards had been covered Fresnoy had the - ill-luck to blunder into some heavy ground, and this enabling his pursuer, - who had time to avoid it, to get within two-score paces of him, the race - became as exciting as I could wish. Slowly and surely Maignan, who had - chosen the Cid, reduced the distance between them to a score of paces—to - fifteen—to ten. Then Fresnoy, becoming alarmed, began to look over - his shoulder and ride in earnest. He had no whip, and I saw him raise his - sheathed sword, and strike his beast on the flank. It sprang forward, and - appeared for a few strides to be holding its own. Again he repeated the - blow but this time with a different result. While his hand was still in - the air, his horse stumbled, as it seemed to me, made a desperate effort - to recover itself, fell headlong and rolled over and over. - </p> - <p> - Something in the fashion of the fall, which reminded me of the mishap I - had suffered on the way to Chize led me to look more particularly at the - horse as it rose trembling to its feet, and stood with drooping head. Sure - enough, a careful glance enabled me, even at that distance, to identify it - as Matthew’s bay—the trick-horse. Shading my eyes, and gazing on the - scene with increased interest, I saw Maignan, who had dismounted, stoop - over something on the ground, and again after an interval stand upright. - </p> - <p> - But Fresnoy did not rise. Nor was it without awe that, guessing what had - happened to him, I remembered how he had used this very horse to befool - me; how heartlessly he had abandoned Matthew, its owner; and by what - marvellous haps—which men call chances—Providence had brought - it to this place, and put it in his heart to choose it out of a score - which stood ready to his hand! - </p> - <p> - I was right. The man’s neck was broken. He was quite dead. Maignan passed - the word to one, and he to another, and so it reached me on the hill. It - did not fail to awaken memories both grave and wholesome. I thought of St. - Jean d’Angely, of Chize, of the house in the Ruelle d’Arcy; then in the - midst of these reflections I heard voices, and turned to find - mademoiselle, with M. d’Agen behind me. - </p> - <p> - Her hand was still bandaged, and her dress, which she had not changed - since leaving Blois, was torn and stained with mud. Her hair was in - disorder; she walked with a limp. Fatigue and apprehension had stolen the - colour from her cheeks, and in a word she looked, when I turned, so wan - and miserable that for a moment I feared the plague had seized her. - </p> - <p> - The instant, however, that she caught sight of me a wave of colour - invaded, not her cheeks only, but her brow and neck. From her hair to the - collar of her gown she was all crimson. For a second she stood gazing at - me, and then, as I saluted her, she sprang forward. Had I not stepped back - she would have taken my hands. - </p> - <p> - My heart so overflowed with joy at this sight, that in the certainty her - blush gave me I was fain to toy with my happiness. All jealousy of M. - d’Agen was forgotten; only I thought it well not to alarm her by telling - her what I knew of the Bruhls. ‘Mademoiselle,’ I said earnestly, bowing, - but retreating from her, ‘I thank God for your escape. One of your enemies - lies helpless here, and another is dead yonder.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is not of my enemies I am thinking,’ she answered quickly, ‘but of - God, of whom you rightly remind me; and then of my friends.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nevertheless,’ I answered as quickly, ‘I beg you will not stay to thank - them now, but go down to the wood with M. d’Agen, who will do all that may - be possible to make you comfortable.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And you, sir?’ she said, with a charming air of confusion. - </p> - <p> - ‘I must stay here,’ I answered, ‘for a while.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Why?’ she asked with a slight frown. - </p> - <p> - I did not know how to tell her, and I began lamely. ‘Someone must stop - with madame,’ I said without thought. - </p> - <p> - ‘Madame?’ she exclaimed. ‘Does she require assistance? I will stop.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘God forbid!’ I cried. - </p> - <p> - I do not know how she understood the words, but her face, which had been - full of softness, grew hard. She moved quickly towards me; but, mindful of - the danger I carried about me, I drew farther back. ‘No nearer, - mademoiselle,’ I murmured, ‘if you please.’ - </p> - <p> - She looked puzzled, and finally angry, turning away with a sarcastic bow. - ‘So be it, then, sir,’ she said proudly, ‘if you desire it. M. d’Agen, if - you are not afraid of me, will you lead me down?’ - </p> - <p> - I stood and watched them go down the hill, comforting myself with the - reflection that to-morrow, or the next day, or within a few days at most, - all would be well. Scanning her figure as she moved, I fancied that she - went with less spirit as the space increased between us. And I pleased - myself with the notion. A few days, a few hours, I thought, and all would - be well. The sunset which blazed in the west was no more than a faint - reflection of the glow which for a few minutes pervaded my mind, long - accustomed to cold prospects and the chill of neglect. - </p> - <p> - A term was put to these pleasant imaginings by the arrival of Maignan; - who, panting from the ascent of the hill, informed me with a shamefaced - air that the tale of horses was complete, but that four of our men were - missing, and had doubtless gone off with the fugitives. These proved to be - M. d’Agen’s two lackeys and the two varlets M. de Rambouillet had lent us. - There remained besides Simon Fleix only Maignan’s three men from Rosny; - but the state in which our affairs now stood enabled us to make light of - this. I informed the equerry—who visibly paled at the news—that - M. de Bruhl lay ill of the plague, and like to die; and I bade him form a - camp in the wood below, and, sending for food to the house where we had - slept the night before, make mademoiselle as comfortable as circumstances - permitted. - </p> - <p> - He listened with surprise, and when I had done asked with concern what I - intended to do myself. - </p> - <p> - ‘Someone must remain with Madam de Bruhl,’ I answered. ‘I have already - been to the bedside to procure the key of mademoiselle’s room, and I run - no farther risk. All I ask is that you will remain in the neighbourhood, - and furnish us with supplies should it be necessary.’ - </p> - <p> - He looked at me with emotion, which, strongly in conflict with his fears - as it was, touched me not a little. ‘But morbleu! M. de Marsac,’ he said, - ‘you will take the plague and die.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If God wills,’ I answered, very lugubriously I confess, for pale looks in - one commonly so fearless could not but depress me. ‘But if not, I shall - escape. Any way, my friend,’ I continued, ‘I owe you a quittance. Simon - Fleix has an inkhorn and paper. Bid him bring them to this stone and leave - them, and I will write that Maignan, the equerry of the Baron de Rosny, - served me to the end as a brave soldier and an honest friend. ‘What, MON - AMI?’ I continued, for I saw that he was overcome by this, which was, - indeed, a happy thought of mine. ‘Why not? It is true, and will acquit you - with the Baron. Do it, and go. Advise M. d’Agen, and be to him what you - have been to me.’ - </p> - <p> - He swore two or three great oaths, such as men of his kind use to hide an - excess of feeling, and after some further remonstrance went away to carry - out my orders; leaving me to stand on the brow in a strange kind of - solitude, and watch horses and men withdraw to the wood, until the whole - valley seemed left to me and stillness and the grey evening. For a time I - stood in thought. Then reminding myself, for a fillip to my spirits, that - I had been far more alone when I walked the streets of St. Jean friendless - and threadbare (than I was now), I turned, and swinging my scabbard - against my boots for company, stumbled through the dark, silent courtyard, - and mounted as cheerfully as I could to madame’s room. - </p> - <p> - To detail all that passed during the next five days would be tedious and - in indifferent taste, seeing that I am writing this memoir for the perusal - of men of honour; for though I consider the offices which the whole can - perform for the sick to be worthy of the attention of every man, however - well born, who proposes to see service, they seem to be more honourable in - the doing than the telling. One episode, however, which marked those days - filled me then, as it does now, with the most lively pleasure; and that - was the unexpected devotion displayed by Simon Fleix, who, coming to me, - refused to leave, and showed himself at this pinch to be possessed of such - sterling qualities that I freely forgave him the deceit he had formerly - practised on me. The fits of moody silence into which he still fell at - times and an occasional irascibility seemed to show that he had not - altogether conquered his insane fancy; but the mere fact that; he had come - to me in a situation of hazard, and voluntarily removed himself from - mademoiselle’s neighbourhood, gave me good hope for the future. - </p> - <p> - M. de Bruhl died early on the morning of the second day, and Simon and I - buried him at noon. He was a man of courage and address, lacking only - principles. In spite of madame’s grief and prostration, which were as - great as though she had lost the best husband in the world, we removed - before night to a separate camp in the woods; and left with the utmost - relief the grey ruin on the hill, in which, it seemed to me, we had lived - an age. In our new bivouac, where, game being abundant, and the weather - warm, we lacked no comfort, except the society of our friends, we remained - four days longer. On the fifth morning we met the others of our company by - appointment on the north road, and commenced the return journey. - </p> - <p> - Thankful that we had escaped contagion, we nevertheless still proposed to - observe for a time such precautions in regard to the others as seemed - necessary; riding in the rear and having no communication with them, - though they showed by signs the pleasure they felt at seeing us. From the - frequency with which mademoiselle turned and looked behind her, I judged - she had overcome her pique at my strange conduct; which the others should - by this time have explained to her. Content, therefore, with the present, - and full of confidence in the future, I rode along in a rare state of - satisfaction; at one moment planning what I would do, and at another - reviewing what I had done. - </p> - <p> - The brightness and softness of the day, and the beauty of the woods, which - in some places, I remember, were bursting into leaf, contributed much to - establish me in this frame of mind. The hateful mist, which had so greatly - depressed us, had disappeared; leaving the face of the country visible in - all the brilliance of early spring. The men who rode before us, cheered by - the happy omen, laughed and talked as they rode, or tried the paces of - their horses, where the trees grew sparsely; and their jests and laughter - coming pleasantly to our ears as we followed, warmed even madame’s sad - face to a semblance of happiness. - </p> - <p> - I was riding along in this state of contentment when a feeling of fatigue, - which the distance we had come did not seem to justify, led me to spur the - Cid into a brisker pace. The sensation of lassitude still continued, - however, and indeed grew worse; so that I wondered idly whether I had - over-eaten myself at my last meal. Then the thing passed for awhile from - my mind, which the descent of a steep hill sufficiently occupied. - </p> - <p> - But a few minutes later, happening to turn in the saddle, I experienced a - strange and sudden dizziness; so excessive as to force me to grasp the - cantle, and cling to it, while trees and hills appeared to dance round me. - A quick, hot pain in the side followed, almost before I recovered the - power of thought; and this increased so rapidly, and was from the first so - definite, that, with a dreadful apprehension already formed in my mind, I - thrust my hand inside my clothes, and found that swelling which is the - most sure and deadly symptom of the plague. - </p> - <p> - The horror of that moment—in which I saw all those things on the - possession of which I had just been congratulating myself, pass hopelessly - from me, leaving me in dreadful gloom—I will not attempt to describe - in this place. Let it suffice that the world lost in a moment its - joyousness, the sunshine its warmth. The greenness and beauty round me, - which an instant before had filled me with pleasure, seemed on a sudden no - more than a grim and cruel jest at my expense, and I an atom perishing - unmarked and unnoticed. Yes, an atom, a mote; the bitterness of that - feeling I well remember. Then, in no long time—being a soldier—I - recovered my coolness, and, retaining the power to think, decided what it - behoved me to do. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXI. UNDER THE GREENWOOD. - </h2> - <p> - To escape from my companions on some pretext, which should enable me to - ensure their safety without arousing their fears, was the one thought - which possessed me on the subsidence of my first alarm. Probably it - answered to that instinct in animals which bids them get away alone when - wounded or attacked by disease; and with me it had the fuller play as the - pain prevailed rather by paroxysms, than in permanence, and, coming and - going, allowed intervals of ease, in which I was able to think clearly and - consecutively, and even to sit firmly in the saddle. - </p> - <p> - The moment one of these intervals enabled me to control myself, I used it - to think where I might go without danger to others; and at once and - naturally my thoughts turned to the last place we had passed; which - happened to be the house in the gorge where we had received news of - Bruhl’s divergence from the road. The man who lived there alone had had - the plague; therefore he did not fear it. The place itself was solitary, - and I could reach it, riding slowly, in half an hour. On the instant and - without more delay I determined on this course. I would return, and, - committing myself to the fellow’s good offices, bid him deny me to others, - and especially to my friends—should they seek me. - </p> - <p> - Aware that I bad no time to lose if I would put this plan into execution - before the pains returned to sap my courage, I drew bridle at once, and - muttered some excuse to madame; if I remember rightly, that I had dropped - my gauntlet. Whatever the pretext—and my dread was great lest she - should observe any strangeness in my manner—it passed with her; by - reason, chiefly, I think, of the grief which monopolised her. She let me - go, and before anyone else could mark or miss me I was a hundred yards - away on the back-track, and already sheltered from observation by a turn - in the road. - </p> - <p> - The excitement of my evasion supported me for a while after leaving her; - and then for another while, a paroxysm of pain deprived me of the power of - thought. But when this last was over, leaving me weak and shaken, yet - clear in my mind, the most miserable sadness and depression that can be - conceived came upon me; and, accompanying me through the wood, filled its - avenues (which doubtless were fair enough to others’ eyes) with the - blackness of despair. I saw but the charnel-house, and that everywhere. It - was not only that the horrors of the first discovery returned upon me and - almost unmanned me; nor only that regrets and memories, pictures of the - past and plans for the future, crowded thick upon my mind, so that I could - have wept at the thought of all ending here. But in my weakness - mademoiselle’s face shone where the wood was darkest, and, tempting and - provoking me to return—were it only to tell her that, grim and dull - as I seemed, I loved her—tried me with a subtle temptation almost - beyond my strength to resist. All that was mean in me rose in arms, all - that was selfish clamoured to know why I must die in the ditch while - others rode in the sunshine; why I must go to the pit, while others loved - and lived! - </p> - <p> - And so hard was I pressed that I think I should have given way had the - ride been longer or my horse less smooth and nimble. But in the midst of - my misery, which bodily pain was beginning to augment to such a degree - that I could scarcely see, and had to ride gripping the saddle with both - hands, I reached the mill. My horse stopped of its own accord. The man we - had seen before came out. I had I just strength left to tell him what was - the matter, and what I wanted and then a fresh attack came on, with - sickness, and overcome by vertigo I fell to the ground. - </p> - <p> - I have but an indistinct idea what happened after that; until I found - myself inside the house, clinging to the man’s arm. He pointed to a - box-bed in one corner of the room (which was, or seemed to my sick eyes, - gloomy and darksome in the extreme), and would have had me lie down in it. - But something inside me revolted against the bed, and despite the force he - used, I broke away, and threw myself on a heap of straw which I saw in - another corner. - </p> - <p> - ‘Is not the bed good enough for you?’ he grumbled. - </p> - <p> - I strove to tell him it was not that. - </p> - <p> - ‘It should be good enough to die on,’ he continued brutally. ‘There’s five - have died on that bed, I’d have you know! My wife one, and my son another, - and my daughter another; and then my son again, and a daughter again. - Five! Ay, five in that bed!’ - </p> - <p> - Brooding in the gloom of the chimney-corner, where he was busied about a - black pot, he continued to mutter and glance at me askance; but after a - while I swooned away with pain. - </p> - <p> - When I opened my eyes again the room was darker. The man still sat where I - had last seen him, but a noise, the same, perhaps, which had roused me, - drew him as I looked to the unglazed window. A voice outside, the tones of - which I seemed to know, inquired if he had seen me; and so carried away - was I by the excitement of the moment that I rose on my elbow to hear the - answer. But the man was staunch. I heard him deny all knowledge of me, and - presently the sound of retreating hoofs and the echo of voices dying in - the distance assured me I was left. - </p> - <p> - Then, at that instant, a doubt of the man on whose compassion I had thrown - myself entered my mind. Plague-stricken, hopeless as I was, it chilled me - to the very heart; staying in a moment the feeble tears I was about to - shed, and curing even the vertigo, which forced me to clutch at the straw - on which I lay. Whether the thought arose from a sickly sense of my own - impotence, or was based on the fellow’s morose air and the stealthy - glances he continued to cast at me, I am as unable to say as I am to - decide whether it was well-founded, or the fruit of my own fancy. Possibly - the gloom of the room and the man’s surly words inclined me to suspicion; - possibly his secret thoughts portrayed themselves in his hang-dog visage. - Afterwards it appeared that he had stripped me, while I lay, of everything - of value; but he may have done this in the belief that I should die. - </p> - <p> - All I know is that I knew nothing certain, because the fear died almost as - soon as it was born. The man had scarcely seated himself again, or I - conceived the thought, when a second alarm outside caused him to spring to - his feet. Scowling and muttering as he went, he hurried to the window. But - before he reached it the door was dashed violently open, and Simon Fleix - stood in the entrance. - </p> - <p> - There came in with him so blessed a rush of light and life as in a moment - dispelled the horror of the room, and stripped me at one and the same time - of fear and manhood. For whether I would or no, at sight of the familiar - face, which I had fled so lately, I burst into tears; and, stretching out - my hands to him, as a frightened child might have done, called on him by - name. I suppose the plague was by this time so plainly written on my face - that all who looked might read; for he stood at gaze, staring at me, and - was still so standing when a hand put him aside and a slighter, smaller - figure, pale-faced and hooded, stood for a moment between me and the - sunshine. It was mademoiselle! - </p> - <p> - That, I thank God, restored me to myself, or I had been for ever shamed. I - cried to them with all the voice I had left to take her away; and calling - out frantically again and again that I had the plague and she would die, I - bade the man close the door. Nay, regaining something of strength in my - fear for her, I rose up, half-dressed as I was, and would have fled into - some corner to avoid her, still calling out to them to take her away, to - take her away—if a fresh paroxysm had not seized me, so that I fell - blind and helpless where I was. - </p> - <p> - For a time after that I knew nothing; until someone held water to my lips, - and I drank greedily, and presently awoke to the fact that the entrance - was dark with faces and figures all gazing at me as I lay. But I could not - see her; and I had sense enough to know and be thankful that she was no - longer among them. I would fain have bidden Maignan to begone too, for I - read the consternation in his face. But I could not muster strength or - voice for the purpose, and when I turned my head to see who held me—ah - me! it comes back to me still in dreams—it was mademoiselle’s hair - that swept my forehead and her hand that ministered to me; while tears she - did not try to hide or wipe away fell on my hot cheek. I could have pushed - her away even then, for she was slight and small; but the pains came upon - me, and with a sob choking my voice I lost all knowledge. - </p> - <p> - I am told that I lay for more than a month between life and death, now - burning with fever and now in the cold fit; and that but for the tendance - which never failed nor faltered, nor could have been outdone had my malady - been the least infectious in the world. I must have died a hundred times, - as hundreds round me did die week by week in that year. From the first - they took me out of the house (where I think I should have perished - quickly, so impregnated was it with the plague poison) and laid me under a - screen of boughs in the forest, with a vast quantity of cloaks and - horse-cloths cunningly disposed to windward. Here I ran some risk from - cold and exposure and the fall of heavy dews; but, on the other hand, had - all the airs of heaven to clear away the humours and expel the fever from - my brain. - </p> - <p> - Hence it was that when the first feeble beginnings of consciousness awoke - in me again, they and the light stole in on me through green leaves, and - overhanging boughs, and the freshness and verdure of the spring woods. The - sunshine which reached my watery eyes was softened by its passage through - great trees, which grew and expanded as I gazed up into them, until each - became a verdant world, with all a world’s diversity of life. Grown tired - of this, I had still long avenues of shade, carpeted with flowers, to peer - into; or a little wooded bottom—where the ground fell away on one - side—that blazed and burned with redthorn. Ay, and hence it was that - the first sounds I heard, when the fever left me at last, and I knew - morning from evening, and man from woman, were the songs of birds calling - to their mates. - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle and Madame de Bruhl, with Fanchette and Simon Fleix, lay all - this time in such shelter as could be raised for them where I lay; M. - Francois and three stout fellows, whom Maignan left to guard us living in - a hut within hail. Maignan himself, after seeing out a week of my illness, - had perforce returned to his master, and no news had since been received - from him. Thanks to the timely move into the woods, no other of the party - fell ill, and by the time I was able to stand and speak the ravages of the - disease had so greatly decreased that fear was at an end. - </p> - <p> - I should waste words were I to try to describe how the peace and quietude - of the life we led in the forest during the time of my recovery sank into - my heart; which had known, save by my mother’s bedside, little of such - joys. To awake in the morning to sweet sounds and scents, to eat with - reviving appetite and feel the slow growth of strength, to lie all day in - shade or sunshine as it pleased me, and hear women’s voices and tinkling - laughter, to have no thought of the world and no knowledge of it, so that - we might have been, for anything we saw, in another sphere—these - things might have sufficed for happiness without that which added to each - and every one of them a sweeter and deeper and more lasting joy. Of which - next. - </p> - <p> - I had not begun to take notice long before I saw that M. Francois and - madame had come to an understanding; such an one, at least, as permitted - him to do all for her comfort and entertainment without committing her to - more than was becoming at such a season. Naturally this left mademoiselle - much in my company; a circumstance which would have ripened into passion - the affection I before entertained for her, had not gratitude and a nearer - observance of her merits already elevated my regard into the most ardent - worship that even the youngest lover ever felt for his mistress. - </p> - <p> - In proportion, however, as I and my love grew stronger, and mademoiselle’s - presence grew more necessary to my happiness—so that were she away - but an hour I fell a-moping—she began to draw off from me, and - absenting herself more and more on long walks in the woods, by-and-by - reduced me to such a pitch, of misery as bid fair to complete what the - fever had left undone. - </p> - <p> - If this had happened in the world I think it likely that I should have - suffered in silence. But here, under the greenwood, in common enjoyment of - God’s air and earth, we seemed more nearly equal. She was scarce better - dressed, than a sutler’s wife; while recollections of her wealth and - station, though they assailed me nightly, lost much of their point in - presence of her youth and of that fair and patient gentleness which forest - life and the duties of a nurse had fostered. - </p> - <p> - So it happened that one day, when she had been absent longer than usual, I - took my courage in my hand and went to meet her as far as the stream which - ran through the bottom by the redthorn. Here, at a place where there were - three stepping-stones, I waited for her; first taking away the - stepping-stones, that she might have to pause, and, being at a loss, might - be glad to see me. - </p> - <p> - She came presently, tripping through an alley in the low wood, with her - eyes on the ground, and her whole carriage full of a sweet pensiveness - which it did me good to see. I turned my back on the stream before she saw - me, and made a pretence of being taken up with something in another - direction. Doubtless she espied me soon, and before she came very near; - but she made no sign until she reached the brink, and found the - stepping-stones were gone. - </p> - <p> - Then, whether she suspected me or not, she called out to me, not once, but - several times. For, partly to tantalise her, as lovers will, and partly - because it charmed me to hear her use my name, I would not turn at once. - </p> - <p> - When I did, and discovered her standing with one small foot dallying with - the water, I cried out with well-affected concern; and in a great hurry - ran towards her, paying no attention to her chiding or the pettish - haughtiness with which she spoke to me. - </p> - <p> - ‘The stepping-stones are all on your side,’ she said imperiously. - </p> - <p> - ‘Who has moved them?’ - </p> - <p> - I looked about without answering, and at last pretended to find them; - while she stood watching me, tapping the ground with one foot the while. - Despite her impatience, the stone which was nearest to her I took care to - bring last—that she might not cross without my assistance. But after - all she stepped over so lightly and quickly that the hand she placed in - mine seemed scarcely to rest there a second. Yet when she was over I - managed to retain it; nor did she resist, though her cheek, which had been - red before, turned crimson and her eyes fell, and bound to me by the link - of her little hand, she stood beside me with her whole figure drooping. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle,’ I said gravely, summoning all my resolution to my aid, ‘do - you know of what that stream with its stepping-stones reminds me?’ - </p> - <p> - She shook her head but did not answer. - </p> - <p> - ‘Of the stream which has flowed between us from the day when I first saw - you at St. Jean,’ said in a low voice. ‘It has flowed between us, and it - still does—separating us.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘What stream?’ she murmured, with her eyes cast down, and her foot playing - with the moss. ‘You speak in riddles, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You understand this one only too well, mademoiselle, ‘I answered. ‘Are - you not young and gay and beautiful, while I am old, or almost old, and - dull and grave? You are rich and well-thought-of at Court, and I a soldier - of fortune, not too successful. What did you think of me when you first - saw me at St. Jean? What when I came to Rosny? That, mademoiselle,’ I - continued with fervour, ‘is the stream which flows between us and - separates us; and I know of but one stepping-stone that can bridge it.’ - </p> - <p> - She looked aside, toying with a piece of thorn-blossom she had picked. It - was not redder than her cheeks. - </p> - <p> - ‘That one stepping-stone,’ I said, after waiting vainly for any word or - sign from her, ‘is Love. Many weeks ago, mademoiselle, when I had little - cause to like you, I loved you; I loved you whether I would or not, and - without thought or hope of return. I should have been mad had I spoken to - you then. Mad, and worse than mad. But now, now that I owe you my life, - now that I have drunk from your hand in fever, and, awaking early and - late, have found you by my pillow—now that, seeing you come in and - out in the midst of fear and hardship, I have learned to regard you as a - woman kind and gentle as my mother—now that I love you, so that to - be with you is joy, and away from you grief, is it presumption in me now, - mademoiselle, to think that that stream may be bridged?’ - </p> - <p> - I stopped, out of breath, and saw that she was trembling. But she spoke - presently. ‘You said one stepping-stone?’ she murmured. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ I answered hoarsely, trying in vain to look at her face, which she - kept averted from me. - </p> - <p> - ‘There should be two,’ she said, almost in a whisper. ‘Your love, sir, and—and - mine. You have said much of the one, and nothing of the other. In that you - are wrong, for I am proud still. And I would not cross the stream you - speak of for any love of yours!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ah!’ I cried in sharpest pain. - </p> - <p> - ‘But,’ she continued, looking up at me on a sudden with eyes that told me - all, ‘because I love you I am willing to cross it—to cross it once - for ever, and to live beyond it all my life—if I may live my life - with you.’ - </p> - <p> - I fell on my knee and kissed her hand again and again in a rapture of joy - and gratitude. By-and-by she pulled it from me. ‘If you will, sir,’ she - said, ‘you may kiss my lips. If you do not, no man ever will.’ - </p> - <p> - After that, as may be guessed, we walked every day in the forest, making - longer and longer excursions as my strength came back to me, and the - nearer parts grew familiar. From early dawn, when I brought my love a posy - of flowers, to late evening, when Fanchette hurried her from me, our days - were passed in a long round of delight; being filled full of all beautiful - things—love, and sunshine, and rippling streams, and green banks, on - which we sat together under scented limes, telling one another all we had - ever thought, and especially all we had ever thought of one another. - Sometimes—when the light was low in the evening—we spoke of my - mother; and once—but that was in the sunshine, when the bees were - humming and my blood had begun to run strongly in my veins—I spoke - of my great and distant kinsman, Rohan. But mademoiselle would hear - nothing of him, murmuring again and again in my ear, ‘I have crossed, my - love, I have crossed.’ - </p> - <p> - Truly the sands of that hour-glass were of gold. But in time they ran out. - First M. Francois, spurred by the restlessness of youth, and convinced - that madame would for a while yield no further, left us, and went back to - the world. Then news came of great events that could not fail to move us. - The King of France and the King of Navarre had met at Tours, and embracing - in the sight of an immense multitude, had repulsed the League with - slaughter in the suburb of St. Symphorien. Fast on this followed the - tidings of their march northwards with an overwhelming army of - fifty-thousand men of both religions, bent, rumour had it, on the signal - punishment of Paris. - </p> - <p> - I grew—shame that I should say it—to think more and more of - these things; until mademoiselle, reading the signs, told me one day that - we must go. ‘Though never again,’ she added with a sigh, ‘shall we be so - happy.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then why go?’ I asked foolishly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Because you are a man,’ she answered with a wise smile, ‘as I would have - you be, and you need something besides love. To-morrow we will go.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Whither?’ I said in amazement. - </p> - <p> - ‘To the camp before Paris,’ she answered. ‘We will go back in the light of - day—seeing that we have done nothing of which to be ashamed—and - throw ourselves on the justice of the King of Navarre. You shall place me - with Madame Catherine, who will not refuse to protect me; and so, sweet, - you will have only yourself to think of. Come, sir,’ she continued, laying - her little hand in mine, and looking into my eyes, ‘you are not afraid?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am more afraid than ever I used to be,’ I said trembling. - </p> - <p> - ‘So I would have it,’ she whispered, hiding her face on my shoulder. - ‘Nevertheless we will go.’ - </p> - <p> - And go we did. The audacity of such a return in the face of Turenne, who - was doubtless in the King of Navarre’s suite, almost took my breath away; - nevertheless, I saw that it possessed one advantage which no other course - promised—that, I mean, of setting us right in the eyes of the world, - and enabling me to meet in a straightforward manner such as maligned us. - After some consideration I gave my assent, merely conditioning that until - we reached the Court we should ride masked, and shun as far as possible - encounters by the road. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXII. A TAVERN BRAWL. - </h2> - <p> - On the following day, accordingly, we started. But the news of the two - kings’ successes, and particularly the certainty which these had bred in - many minds that nothing short of a miracle could save Paris, had moved so - many gentlemen to take the road that we found the inns crowded beyond - example, and were frequently forced into meetings which made the task of - concealing our identity more difficult and hazardous than I had expected. - Sometimes shelter was not to be obtained on any terms, and then we had to - lie in the fields or in any convenient shed. Moreover, the passage of the - army had swept the country so bare both of food and forage, that these - commanded astonishing prices; and a long day’s ride more than once brought - us to our destination without securing for us the ample meal we had - earned, and required. - </p> - <p> - Under these circumstances, it was with joy little short of transport that - I recognised the marvellous change which had come over my mistress. - Bearing all without a murmur, or a frown, or so much as one complaining - word, she acted on numberless occasions so as to convince me that she - spoke truly—albeit I scarcely dared to believe it—when she - said that she had but one trouble in the world, and that was the prospect - of our coming separation. - </p> - <p> - For my part, and despite some gloomy moments, when fear of the future - overcame me, I rode in Paradise riding by my mistress. It was her presence - which glorified alike the first freshness of the morning, when we started - with all the day before us, and the coolness of the late evening, when we - rode hand-in-hand. Nor could I believe without an effort that I was the - same Gaston de Marsac who she had once spurned and disdained. God knows I - was thankful for her love. A thousand times, thinking of my grey hairs, I - asked her if she did not repent; and a thousand times she answered No, - with so much happiness in her eyes that I was fain to thank God again and - believe her. - </p> - <p> - Notwithstanding the inconvenience of the practice, we made it a rule to - wear our masks whenever we appeared in public; and this rule me kept more - strictly as we approached Paris. It exposed us to some comment and more - curiosity, but led to no serious trouble until we reached Etampes, twelve - leagues from the capital; where we found the principal inn so noisy and - crowded, and so much disturbed by the constant coming and going of - couriers, that it required no experience to predicate the neighbourhood of - the army. The great courtyard seemed to be choked with a confused mass of - men and horses, through which we made our way with difficulty. The windows - of the house were all open, and offered us a view of tables surrounded by - men eating and drinking hastily, as the manner of travellers is. The - gateway and the steps of the house were lined with troopers and servants - and sturdy rogues; who scanned all who passed in or out, and not - unfrequently followed them with ribald jests and nicknames. Songs and - oaths, brawling and laughter, with the neighing of horses and the huzzas - of the beggars, who shouted whenever a fresh party arrived, rose above - all, and increased the reluctance with which I assisted madame and - mademoiselle to dismount. - </p> - <p> - Simon was no match for such an occasion as this; but the stalwart aspect - of the three men whom Maignan had left with me commanded respect, and - attended by two of these I made a way for the ladies—not without - some opposition and a few oaths—to enter the house. The landlord, - whom we found crushed into a corner inside, and entirely overborne by the - crowd which had invaded his dwelling, assured me that he had not the - smallest garret he could place at my disposal; but I presently succeeded - in finding a small room at the top, which I purchased from the four men - who had taken possession of it. As it was impossible to get anything to - eat there, I left a man on guard, and myself descended with madame and - mademoiselle to the eating-room, a large chamber set with long boards, and - filled with a rough and noisy crew. Under a running fire of observations - we entered, and found with difficulty three seats in an inner corner of - the room. - </p> - <p> - I ran my eye over the company, and noticed among them, besides a dozen - travelling parties like our own, specimens of all those classes which are - to be found in the rear of an army. There were some officers and more - horse-dealers; half a dozen forage-agents and a few priests; with a large - sprinkling of adventurers, braves, and led-captains, and here and there - two or three whose dress and the deference paid to them by their - neighbours seemed to indicate a higher rank. Conspicuous among these last - were a party of four who occupied a small table by the door. An attempt - had been made to secure some degree of privacy for them by interposing a - settle between them and the room; and their attendants, who seemed to be - numerous, did what they could to add to this by filling the gap with their - persons. One of the four, a man of handsome dress and bearing, who sat in - the place of honour, was masked, as we were. The gentleman at his right - hand I could not see. The others, whom I could see, were strangers to me. - </p> - <p> - Some time elapsed before our people succeeded in procuring us any food, - and during the interval we were exposed to an amount of comment on the - part of those round us which I found very little to my liking. There were - not half a dozen women present, and this and our masks rendered my - companions unpleasantly conspicuous. Aware, however, of the importance of - avoiding an altercation which might possibly detain us, and would be - certain to add to our notoriety, I remained quiet; and presently the - entrance of a tall, dark-complexioned man, who carried himself with a - peculiar swagger, and seemed to be famous for something or other, diverted - the attention of the company from us. - </p> - <p> - The new-comer was somewhat of Maignan’s figure. He wore a back and breast - over a green doublet, and had an orange feather in his cap and an - orange-lined cloak on his shoulder. On entering he stood a moment in the - doorway, letting his bold black eyes rove round the room, the while he - talked in a loud braggart fashion to his companions. There was a lack of - breeding in the man’s air, and something offensive in his look; which I - noticed produced wherever it rested a momentary silence and constraint. - When he moved farther into the room I saw that he wore a very long sword, - the point of which trailed a foot behind him. - </p> - <p> - He chose out for his first attentions the party of four whom I have - mentioned; going up to them and accosting them with a ruffling air, - directed especially to the gentleman in the mask. The latter lifted his - head haughtily on finding himself addressed by a stranger, but did not - offer to answer. Someone else did, however, for a sudden bellow like that - of an enraged bull proceeded from behind the settle. The words were lost - in noise, the unseen speaker’s anger seeming so overpowering that he could - not articulate; but the tone and voice, which were in some way familiar to - me, proved enough for the bully, who, covering his retreat with a profound - bow, backed out rapidly, muttering what was doubtless an apology. Cocking - his hat more fiercely to make up for this repulse, he next proceeded to - patrol the room, scowling from side to side as he went, with the evident - intention of picking a quarrel with someone less formidable. - </p> - <p> - By ill-chance his eye lit, as he turned, on our masks. He said something - to his companions; and encouraged, no doubt, by the position of our seats - at the board, which led him to think us people of small consequence, he - came to a stop opposite us. - </p> - <p> - ‘What! more dukes here?’ he cried scoffingly. ‘Hallo, you sir!’ he - continued to me, ‘will you not unmask and drink a glass with me?’ - </p> - <p> - I thanked him civilly, but declined. - </p> - <p> - His insolent eyes were busy, while I spoke, with madame’s fair hair and - handsome figure, which her mask failed to hide. ‘Perhaps the ladies will - have better taste, sir,’ he said rudely. ‘Will they not honour us with a - sight of their pretty faces?’ - </p> - <p> - Knowing the importance of keeping my temper I put constraint on myself, - and answered, still with civility, that they were greatly fatigued and - were about to retire. - </p> - <p> - ‘Zounds!’ he cried, ‘that is not to be borne. If we are to lose them so - soon, the more reason we should enjoy their BEAUX YEUX while we can. A - short life and a merry one, sir. This is not a nunnery, nor, I dare swear, - are your fair friends nuns.’ - </p> - <p> - Though I longed to chastise him for this insult, I feigned deafness, and - went on with my meal as if I had not heard him; and the table being - between us prevented him going beyond words. After he had uttered one or - two coarse jests of a similar character, which cost us less as we were - masked, and our emotions could only be guessed, the crowd about us, seeing - I took the thing quietly, began to applaud him; but more as it seemed to - me out of fear than love. In this opinion I was presently confirmed on - hearing from Simon who whispered the information in my ear as he handed a - dish—that the fellow was an Italian captain in the king’s pay, - famous for his skill with the sword and the many duels in which he had - displayed it. - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle, though she did not know this, bore with his insolence with a - patience which astonished me; while madame appeared unconscious of it. - Nevertheless, I was glad when he retired and left us in peace. I seized - the moment of his absence to escort the ladies through the room and - upstairs to their apartment, the door of which I saw locked and secured. - That done I breathed more freely; and feeling thankful that I had been - able to keep my temper, took the episode to be at an end. - </p> - <p> - But in this I was mistaken, as I found when I returned to the room in - which we had supped, my intention being to go through it to the stables. I - had not taken two paces across the floor before I found my road blocked by - the Italian, and read alike in his eyes and in the faces of the company—of - whom many hastened to climb the tables to see what passed—that the - meeting was premeditated. The man’s face was flushed with wine; proud of - his many victories, he eyed me with a boastful contempt my patience had - perhaps given him the right to feel. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ha! well met, sir,’ he said, sweeping the floor with his cap in an - exaggeration of respect, ‘now, perhaps, your high-mightiness will - condescend to unmask? The table is no longer between us, nor are your fair - friends here to protect their CHER AMI!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘If I still refuse, sir,’ I said civilly, wavering between anger and - prudence, and hoping still to avoid a quarrel which might endanger us all, - ‘be good enough to attribute it to private motives, and to no desire to - disoblige you.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, I do not think you wish to disoblige me,’ he answered, laughing - scornfully—and a dozen voices echoed the gibe. ‘But for your private - motives, the devil take them! Is that plain enough, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is plain enough to show me that you are an ill-bred man!’ I answered, - choler getting the better of me. ‘Let me pass, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Unmask!’ he retorted, moving so as still to detain me, ‘or shall I call - in the grooms to perform the office for you?’ - </p> - <p> - Seeing at last that all my attempts to evade the man only fed his vanity, - and encouraged him to further excesses, and that the motley crowd, who - filled the room and already formed a circle round us, had made up their - minds to see sport, I would no longer balk them; I could no longer do it, - indeed, with honour. I looked round, therefore, for someone whom I might - enlist as my second, but I saw no one with whom I had the least - acquaintance. The room was lined from table to ceiling with mocking faces - and scornful eyes all turned to me. - </p> - <p> - My opponent saw the look, and misread it; being much accustomed, I - imagine, to a one-sided battle. He laughed contemptuously. ‘No, my friend, - there is no way out of it,’ he said. ‘Let me see your pretty face, or - fight.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘So be it,’ I said quietly. ‘If I have no other choice, I will fight.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘In your mask?’ he cried incredulously. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes,’ I said sternly, feeling every nerve tingle with long-suppressed - rage. ‘I will fight as I am. Off with your back and breast, if you are a - man. And I will so deal with you that if you see to-morrow’s sun you shall - need a mask for the rest of your days!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ho! ho!’ he answered, scowling at me in surprise, ‘you sing in a - different key now. But I will put a term to it. There is space enough - between these tables, if you can use your weapon; and much more than you - will need to-morrow.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To-morrow will show,’ I retorted. - </p> - <p> - Without more ado he unfastened the buckles of his breast-piece, and - relieving himself of it, stepped back a pace. Those of the bystanders who - occupied the part of the room he indicated—a space bounded by four - tables, and not unfit for the purpose, though somewhat confined—hastened - to get out of it, and seize instead upon neighbouring posts of ‘vantage. - The man’s reputation was such, and his fame so great, that on all sides I - heard naught but wagers offered against me at odds; but this circumstance, - which might have flurried a younger man and numbed his arm, served only to - set me on making the most of such openings as the fellow’s presumption and - certainty of success would be sure to afford. - </p> - <p> - The news of the challenge running through the house had brought together - by this time so many people as to fill the room from end to end, and even - to obscure the light, which was beginning to wane. At the last moment, - when we were on the point of engaging, a slight commotion marked the - admission to the front of three or four persons, whose consequence or - attendants gained them this advantage. I believed them to be the party of - four I have mentioned, but at the time I could not be certain. - </p> - <p> - In the few seconds of waiting while this went forward I examined our - relative positions with the fullest intention of killing the man—whose - glittering eyes and fierce smile filled me with a loathing which was very - nearly hatred—if I could. The line of windows lay to my right and - his left. The evening light fell across us, whitening the row of faces on - my left, but leaving those on my right in shadow. It occurred to me on the - instant that my mask was actually an advantage, seeing that it protected - my sight from the side-light, and enabled me to watch his eyes and point - with more concentration. - </p> - <p> - ‘You will be the twenty-third man I have killed!’ he said boastfully, as - we crossed swords and stood an instant on guard. - </p> - <p> - ‘Take care!’ I answered. ‘You have twenty-three against you!’ - </p> - <p> - A swift lunge was his only answer. I parried it, and thrust, and we fell - to work. We had not exchanged half a dozen blows, however, before I saw - that I should need all the advantage which my mask and greater caution - gave me. I had met my match, and it might be something more; but that for - a time it was impossible to tell. He had the longer weapon, and I the - longer reach. He preferred the point, after the new Italian fashion, and I - the blade. He was somewhat flushed with wine, while my arm had scarcely - recovered the strength of which illness had deprived me. - </p> - <p> - On the other hand, excited at the first by the cries of his backers, he - played rather wildly; while I held myself prepared, and keeping up a - strong guard, waited cautiously for any opening or mistake on his part. - </p> - <p> - The crowd round us, which had hailed our first passes with noisy cries of - derision and triumph, fell silent after a while, surprised and taken aback - by their champion’s failure to spit me at the first onslaught. My - reluctance to engage had led them to predict a short fight and an easy - victory. - </p> - <p> - Convinced of the contrary, they began to watch each stroke with bated - breath; or now and again, muttering the name of Jarnac, broke into brief - exclamations as a blow more savage than usual drew sparks from our blades, - and made the rafters ring with the harsh grinding of steel on steel. - </p> - <p> - The surprise of the crowd, however, was a small thing compared with that - of my adversary. Impatience, disgust, rage and doubt chased one another in - turn across his flushed features. Apprised that he had to do with a - swordsman, he put forth all his power. With spite in his eyes he laboured - blow on blow, he tried one form of attack after another, he found me - equal, if barely equal, to all. And then at last there came a change. The - perspiration gathered on his brow, the silence disconcerted him; he felt - his strength failing under the strain, and suddenly, I think, the - possibility of defeat and death, unthought of before, burst upon him. I - heard him groan, and for a moment he fenced wildly. Then he again - recovered himself. But now I read terror in his eyes, and knew that the - moment of retribution was at hand. With his back to the table, and my - point threatening his breast, he knew at last what those others had felt! - </p> - <p> - He would fain have stopped to breathe, but I would not let him though my - blows also were growing feeble, and my guard weaker; for I knew that if I - gave him time to recover himself he would have recourse to other tricks, - and might out-manoeuvre me in the end. As it was, my black unchanging - mask, which always confronted him, which hid all emotions and veiled even - fatigue, had grown to be full of terror to him—full of blank, - passionless menace. He could not tell how I fared, or what I thought, or - how my strength stood. Superstitious dread was on him, and threatened, to - overpower him. Ignorant who I was or whence I came, he feared and doubted, - grappling with monstrous suspicions, which the fading light encouraged. - His face broke out in blotches, his breath came and went in gasps, his - eyes began to protrude. Once or twice they quitted mine for a part of a - second to steal a despairing glance at the rows of onlookers that ran to - right and left of us. But he read no pity there. - </p> - <p> - At last the end came—more suddenly than I had looked for it, but I - think he was unnerved. His hand lost its grip of the hilt, and a parry - which I dealt a little more briskly than usual sent the weapon flying - among the crowd, as much to my astonishment as to that of the spectators. - A volley of oaths and exclamations hailed the event; and for a moment I - stood at gaze, eyeing him watchfully. He shrank back; then he made for a - moment as if he would fling himself upon me dagger in hand. But seeing my - point steady, he recoiled a second time, his face distorted with rage and - fear. - </p> - <p> - ‘Go!’ I said sternly. ‘Begone! Follow your sword! But spare the next man - you conquer.’ - </p> - <p> - He stared at me, fingering his dagger as if he did not understand, or as - if in the bitterness of his shame at being so defeated even life were - unwelcome. I was about to repeat my words when a heavy hand fell on my - shoulder. - </p> - <p> - ‘Fool!’ a harsh growling voice muttered in my ear. ‘Do you want him to - serve you as Achon served Matas? This is the way to deal with him.’ - </p> - <p> - And before I knew who spoke or what to expect a man vaulted over the table - beside me. Seizing the Italian by the neck and waist, he flung him bodily—without - paying the least regard to his dagger—into the crowd. ‘There!’ the - new-comer cried, stretching his arms as if the effort had relieved him, - ‘so much for him! And do you breathe yourself. Breathe yourself, my - friend,’ he continued with a vain-glorious air of generosity. ‘When you - are rested and ready, you and I will have a bout. Mon dieu! what a thing - it is to see a man! And by my faith you are a man!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But, sir,’ I said, staring at him in the utmost bewilderment, ‘we have no - quarrel.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Quarrel?’ he cried in his loud, ringing voice. ‘Heaven forbid! Why should - we? I love a man, however, and when I see one I say to him, “I am Crillon! - Fight me!” But I see you are not yet rested. Patience! There is no hurry. - Berthon de Crillon is proud to wait your convenience. In the meantime, - gentlemen,’ he continued, turning with a grand air to the spectators, who - viewed this sudden BOULEVERSEMENT with unbounded surprise, ‘let us do what - we can. Take the word from me, and cry all, “VIVE LE ROI, ET VIVE - L’INCONNU!”’ - </p> - <p> - Like people awaking from a dream—so great was their astonishment the - company complied and with the utmost heartiness. When the shout died away, - someone cried in turn, ‘Vive Crillon!’ and this was honoured with a - fervour which brought the tears to the eyes of that remarkable man, in - whom bombast was so strangely combined with the firmest and most reckless - courage. He bowed again and again, turning himself about in the small - space between the tables, while his face shone with pleasure and - enthusiasm. Meanwhile I viewed him with perplexity. I comprehended that it - was his voice I had heard behind the settle; but I had neither the desire - to fight him nor so great a reserve of strength after my illness as to be - able to enter on a fresh contest with equanimity. When he turned to me, - therefore, and again asked, ‘Well, sir, are you ready?’ I could think of - no better answer than that I had already made to him, ‘But, sir, I have no - quarrel with you.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut!’ he answered querulously, ‘if that is all, let us engage.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That is not all, however,’ I said, resolutely putting up my sword. ‘I - have not only no quarrel with M. de Crillon, but I received at his hands - when I last saw him a considerable service.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Then now is the time to return it,’ he answered briskly, and as if that - settled the matter. - </p> - <p> - I could not refrain from laughing. ‘Nay, but I have still an excuse,’ I - said. ‘I am barely recovered from an illness, and am weak. Even so, I - should be loth to decline a combat with some; but a better man than I may - give the wall to M. de Crillon and suffer no disgrace.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Oh, if you put it that way—enough said,’ he answered in a tone of - disappointment. ‘And, to be sure, the light is almost gone. That is a - comfort. But you will not refuse to drink a cup of wine with me? Your - voice I remember, though I cannot say who you are or what service I did - you. For the future, however, count on me. I love a man who is brave as - well as modest, and know no better friend than a stout swordsman.’ - </p> - <p> - I was answering him in fitting terms—while the fickle crowd, which a - few minutes earlier had been ready to tear me, viewed us from a distance - with respectful homage—when the masked gentleman who had before been - in his company drew near and saluted me with much stateliness. - </p> - <p> - ‘I congratulate you, sir,’ he said, in the easy tone of a great man - condescending. ‘You use the sword as few use it, and fight with your head - as well as your hands. Should you need a friend or employment, you will - honour me by remembering that you are known to the Vicomte de Turenne.’ - </p> - <p> - I bowed low to hide the start which the mention of his name caused me. For - had I tried, ay, and possessed to aid me all the wit of M. de Brantome, I - could have imagined nothing more fantastic than this meeting; or more - entertaining than that I, masked, should talk with the Vicomte de Turenne - masked, and hear in place of reproaches and threats of vengeance a civil - offer of protection. Scarcely knowing whether I should laugh or tremble, - or which should occupy me more, the diverting thing that had happened or - the peril we had barely escaped, I made shift to answer him, craving his - indulgence if I still preserved my incognito. Even while I spoke a fresh - fear assailed me: lest M. de Crillon, recognising my voice or figure, - should cry my name on the spot, and explode in a moment the mine on which - we stood. - </p> - <p> - This rendered me extremely impatient to be gone. But M. le Vicomte had - still something to say, and I could not withdraw myself without rudeness. - </p> - <p> - ‘You are travelling north like everyone else?’ he said, gazing at me - curiously. ‘May I ask whether you are for Meudon, where the King of - Navarre lies, or for the Court at St. Cloud?’ - </p> - <p> - I muttered, moving restlessly under his keen eyes, that I was for Meudon. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then, if you care to travel with a larger company,’ he rejoined, bowing - with negligent courtesy, ‘pray command me. I am for Meudon also, and shall - leave here three hours before noon.’ - </p> - <p> - Fortunately he took my assent to his gracious invitation for granted, and - turned away before I had well begun to thank him. From Crillon I found it - more difficult to escape. He appeared to have conceived a great fancy for - me, and felt also, I imagine, some curiosity as to my identity. But I did - even this at last, and, evading the obsequious offers which were made me - on all sides, escaped to the stables, where I sought out the Cid’s stall, - and lying down in the straw beside him, began to review the past, and plan - the future. Under cover of the darkness sleep soon came to me; my last - waking thoughts being divided between thankfulness for my escape and a - steady purpose to reach Meudon before the Vicomte, so that I might make - good my tale in his absence. For that seemed to be my only chance of - evading the dangers I had chosen to encounter. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIII. AT MEUDON. - </h2> - <p> - Making so early a start from Etampes that the inn, which had continued in - an uproar till long after midnight, lay sunk in sleep when we rode out of - the yard, we reached Meudon about noon next day. I should be tedious were - I to detail what thoughts my mistress and I had during that day’s journey—the - last, it might be, which we should take together; or what assurances we - gave one another, or how often we, repented the impatience which had - impelled us to put all to the touch. Madame, with kindly forethought, - detached herself from us, and rode the greater part of the distance with - Fanchette; but the opportunities she gave us went for little; for, to be - plain, the separation we dreaded seemed to overshadow us already. We - uttered few words, through those few were to the purpose, but riding - hand-in-hand, with full hearts, and eyes which seldom quitted one another, - looked forward to Meudon and its perils with such gloomy forebodings as - our love and my precarious position suggested. - </p> - <p> - Long before we reached the town, or could see more of it than the Chateau, - over which the Lilies of France and the broad white banner of the Bourbons - floated in company, we found ourselves swept into the whirlpool which - surrounds an army. Crowds stood at all the cross-roads, wagons and - sumpter-mules encumbered the bridges; each moment a horseman passed us at - a gallop, or a troop of disorderly rogues, soldiers only in name, reeled, - shouting and singing, along the road. Here and there, for a warning to the - latter sort, a man, dangled on a rude gallows; under which sportsmen - returning from the chase and ladies who had been for an airing rode - laughing on their way. - </p> - <p> - Amid the multitude entering the town we passed unnoticed. A little way - within the walls we halted to inquire where the Princess of Navarre had - her lodging. Hearing that she occupied a house in the town, while her - brother had his quarters in the Chateau, and the King of France at St. - Cloud, I stayed my party in a by-road, a hundred paces farther on, and, - springing from the Cid, went to my mistress’s knee. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mademoiselle,’ I said formally, and so loudly that all my men might hear, - ‘the time is come. I dare not go farther with you. I beg you, therefore, - to bear me witness that as I took you so I have brought you back, and both - with your good-will. I beg that you will give me this quittance, for it - may serve me.’ - </p> - <p> - She bowed her head and laid her ungloved hand on mine, which I had placed - on, the pommel of her saddle. ‘Sir,’ she answered in a broken voice, ‘I - will not give you this quittance, nor any quittance from me while I live.’ - With that she took off her mask before them all, and I saw the tears - running down her white face. ‘May God protect you, M. de Marsac,’ she - continued, stooping until her face almost touched mine, ‘and bring you to - the thing you desire. If not, sir, and you pay too dearly for what you - have done for me, I will live a maiden all my days. And, if I do not, - these men may shame me!’ - </p> - <p> - My heart was too full for words, but I took the glove she held out to me, - and kissed her hand with my knee bent. Then I waved—for I could not - speak—to madame to proceed; and with Simon Fleix and Maignan’s men - to guard them they went on their way. Mademoiselle’s white face looked - back to me until a bend in the road hid them, and I saw them no more. - </p> - <p> - I turned when all were gone, and going heavily to where my Sard stood with - his head drooping, I climbed to the saddle, and rode at a foot-pace - towards the Chateau. The way was short and easy, for the next turning - showed me the open gateway and a crowd about it. A vast number of people - were entering and leaving, while others rested in the shade of the wall, - and a dozen grooms led horses up and down. The sunshine fell hotly on the - road and the courtyard, and flashed back by the cuirasses of the men on - guard, seized the eye and dazzled it with gleams of infinite brightness. I - was advancing alone, gazing at all this with a species of dull - indifference which masked for the moment the suspense I felt at heart, - when a man, coming on foot along the street, crossed quickly to me and - looked me in the face. - </p> - <p> - I returned his look, and seeing he was a stranger to me, was for passing - on without pausing. But he wheeled beside me and uttered my name in a low - voice. - </p> - <p> - I checked the Cid and looked down at him. ‘Yes,’ I said mechanically, ‘I - am M. de Marsac. But I do not know you.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nevertheless I have been watching for you for three days,’ he replied. - ‘M. de Rosny received your message. This is for you.’ - </p> - <p> - He handed me a scrap of paper. ‘From whom?’ I asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘Maignan,’ he answered briefly. And with that, and a stealthy look round, - he left me, and went the way he had been going before. - </p> - <p> - I tore open the note, and knowing that Maignan could not write, was not - surprised to find that it lacked any signature. The brevity of its - contents vied with the curtness of its bearer. ‘In Heaven’s name go back - and wait,’ it ran. ‘Your enemy is here, and those who wish you well are - powerless.’ - </p> - <p> - A warning so explicit, and delivered under such circumstances, might have - been expected to make me pause even then. But I read the message with the - same dull indifference, the same dogged resolve with which the sight of - the crowded gateway before me had inspired me. I had not come so far and - baffled Turenne by an hour to fail in my purpose at the last; nor given - such pledges to another to prove false to myself. Moreover, the distant - rattle of musketry, which went to show that a skirmish was taking place on - the farther side of the Castle, seemed an invitation to me to proceed; for - now, if ever, my sword might earn protection and a pardon. Only in regard - to M. de Rosny, from whom I had no doubt that the message came, I resolved - to act with prudence; neither making any appeal to him in public nor - mentioning his name to others in private. - </p> - <p> - The Cid had borne me by this time into the middle of the throng about the - gateway, who, wondering to see a stranger of my appearance arrive without - attendants, eyed me with a mixture of civility and forwardness. I - recognised more than one man whom I had seen about the Court at St. Jean - d’Angely six months before; but so great is the disguising power of - handsome clothes and equipments that none of these knew me. I beckoned to - the nearest, and asked him if the King of Navarre was in the Chateau. - </p> - <p> - ‘He has gone to see the King of France at St. Cloud,’ the man answered, - with something of wonder that anyone should be ignorant of so important a - fact. ‘He is expected here in an hour.’ - </p> - <p> - I thanked him, and calculating that I should still have time and to spare - before the arrival of M. de Turenne, I dismounted, and taking the rein - over my arm, began to walk up and down in the shade of the wall. Meanwhile - the loiterers increased in numbers as the minutes passed. Men of better - standing rode up, and, leaving their horses in charge of their lackeys, - went into the Chateau. Officers in shining corslets, or with boots and - scabbards dulled with dust, arrived and clattered in through the gates. A - messenger galloped up with letters, and was instantly surrounded by a - curious throng of questioners; who left him only to gather about the next - comers, a knot of townsfolk, whose downcast visages and glances of - apprehension seemed to betoken no pleasant or easy mission. - </p> - <p> - Watching many of these enter and disappear, while only the humbler sort - remained to swell the crowd at the gate, I began to experience the - discomfort and impatience which are the lot of the man who finds himself - placed in a false position. I foresaw with clearness the injury I was - about to do my cause by presenting myself to the king among the common - herd; and yet I had no choice save to do this, for I dared not run the - risk of entering, lest I should be required to give my name, and fail to - see the King of Navarre at all. - </p> - <p> - As it was I came very near to being foiled in this way; for I presently - recognised, and was recognised in turn, by a gentleman who rode up to the - gates and, throwing his reins to a groom, dismounted with an air of - immense gravity. This was M. Forget, the king’s secretary, and the person - to whom I had on a former occasion presented a petition. He looked at me - with eyes of profound astonishment, and saluting me stiffly from a - distance, seemed in two minds whether he should pass in or speak to me. On - second thoughts, however, he came towards me, and again saluted me with a - peculiarly dry and austere aspect. - </p> - <p> - ‘I believe, sir, I am speaking to M. de Marsac?’ he said in a low voice, - but not impolitely. - </p> - <p> - I replied in the affirmative. - </p> - <p> - ‘And that, I conclude, is your horse?’ he continued, raising his cane, and - pointing to the Cid, which I had fastened to a hook in the wall. - </p> - <p> - I replied again in the affirmative. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then take a word of advice,’ he answered, screwing up his features, and - speaking in a dry sort of way. ‘Get upon its back without an instant’s - delay, and put as many leagues between yourself and Meudon as horse and - man may.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am obliged to you,’ I said, though I was greatly startled by his words. - ‘And what if I do not take your advice?’ - </p> - <p> - He shrugged his shoulders. ‘In that case look to yourself!’ he retorted. - ‘But you will look in vain!’ - </p> - <p> - He turned on his heel, as he spoke, and in a moment was gone. I watched - him enter the Chateau, and in the uncertainty which possessed me whether - he was not gone—after salving his conscience by giving me warning—to - order my instant arrest, I felt, and I doubt not I looked, as ill at ease - for the time being as the group of trembling townsfolk who stood near me. - Reflecting that he should know his master’s mind, I recalled with - depressing clearness the repeated warnings the King of Navarre had given - me that I must not look to him for reward or protection. I bethought me - that I was here against his express orders: presuming on those very - services which he had given me notice he should repudiate. I remembered - that Rosny had always been in the same tale. And en fin I began to see - that mademoiselle and I had together decided on a step which I should - never have presumed to take on my own motion. - </p> - <p> - I had barely arrived at this conclusion when the trampling of hoofs and a - sudden closing in of the crowd round the gate announced the King of - Navarre’s approach. With a sick heart I drew nearer, feeling that the - crisis was at hand; and in a moment he came in sight, riding beside an - elderly man, plainly dressed and mounted, with whom he was carrying on an - earnest conversation. A train of nobles and gentlemen, whose martial air - and equipments made up for the absence of the gewgaws and glitter, to - which my eyes had become accustomed at Blois, followed close on his heels. - Henry himself wore a suit of white velvet, frayed in places and soiled by - his armour; but his quick eye and eager, almost fierce, countenance could - not fail to win and keep the attention of the least observant. He kept - glancing from side to side as he came on; and that with so cheerful an air - and a carriage so full at once of dignity and good-humour that no one - could look on him and fail to see that here was a leader and a prince of - men, temperate in victory and unsurpassed in defeat. - </p> - <p> - The crowd raising a cry of ‘VIVE NAVARRE!’ as he drew near, he bowed, with - a sparkle in his eye. But when a few by the gate cried ‘VIVENT LES ROIS!’ - he held up his hand for silence, and said in a loud, clear voice, ‘Not - that, my friends. There is but one king in France. Let us say instead, - “Vive le Roi!”’ - </p> - <p> - The spokesman of the little group of townsfolk, who, I learned, were from - Arcueil, and had come to complain of the excessive number of troops - quartered upon them, took advantage of the pause to approach him. Henry - received the old man with a kindly look, and bent from his saddle to hear - what he had to say. While they were talking I pressed forward, the emotion - I felt on my own account heightened by my recognition of the man who rode - by the King of Navarre—who was no other than M. de la Noue. No - Huguenot worthy of the name could look on the veteran who had done and - suffered more for the cause than any living man without catching something - of his stern enthusiasm; and the sight, while it shamed me, who a moment - before had been inclined to prefer my safety to the assistance I owed my - country, gave me courage to step to the king’s rein, so that I heard his - last words to the men of Arcueil. - </p> - <p> - ‘Patience, my friends,’ he said kindly. ‘The burden is heavy, but the - journey is a short one. The Seine is ours; the circle is complete. In a - week Paris must surrender. The king, my cousin, will enter, and you will - be rid of us. For France’s sake one week, my friends.’ - </p> - <p> - The men fell back with low obeisances, charmed by his good-nature, and - Henry, looking up, saw me before him. In the instant his jaw fell. His - brow, suddenly contracting above eyes, which flashed with surprise and - displeasure, altered in a moment the whole aspect of his face; which grew - dark and stern as night. His first impulse was to pass by me; but seeing - that I held my ground, he hesitated, so completely chagrined by my - appearance that he did not know how to act, or in what way to deal with - me. I seized the occasion, and bending my knee with as much respect as I - had ever used to the King of France, begged to bring myself to his notice, - and to crave his protection and favour. - </p> - <p> - ‘This is no time to trouble me, sir,’ he retorted, eyeing me with an angry - side-glance. ‘I do not know you. You are unknown to me, sir. You must go - to M. de Rosny.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It would be useless sire,’ I answered, in desperate persistence. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then I can do nothing for you,’ he rejoined peevishly. ‘Stand on one - side, sir.’ - </p> - <p> - But I was desperate. I knew that I had risked all on the event, and must - establish my footing before M. de Turenne’s return, or run the risk of - certain recognition and vengeance. I cried out, caring nothing who heard, - that I was M. de Marsac, that I had come back to meet whatever my enemies - could allege against me. - </p> - <p> - ‘VENTRE SAINT GRIS!’ Henry exclaimed, starting in his saddle with - well-feigned surprise. ‘Are you that man?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am, sire,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Then you must be mad!’ he retorted, appealing to those behind him. - ‘Stark, staring mad to show your face here! ‘VENTRE SAINT GRIS! Are we to - have all the ravishers and plunderers in the country come to us?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am neither the one nor the other!’ I answered, looking with indignation - from him to the gaping train behind him. - </p> - <p> - ‘That you will have to settle with M. de Turenne!’ he retorted, frowning - down at me with his whole face turned gloomy and fierce. ‘I know you well, - sir, now. Complaint has been made that you abducted a lady from his Castle - of Chize some time back.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The lady, sire, is now in charge of the Princess of Navarre.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘She is?’ he exclaimed, quite taken aback. - </p> - <p> - ‘And if she has aught of complaint against me,’ I continued with pride,’ I - will submit to whatever punishment you order or M. de Turenne demands. But - if she has no complaint to make, and vows that she accompanied me of her - own free-will and accord, and has suffered neither wrong nor displeasure - at my hands, then, sire, I claim that this is a private matter between - myself and M. de Turenne.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Even so I think you will have your hands full,’ he answered grimly. At - the same time he stopped by a gesture those who would have cried out upon - me, and looked at me himself with an altered countenance. ‘Do I understand - that you assert that the lady went of her own accord?’ he asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘She went and has returned, sire,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Strange!’ he ejaculated. ‘Have you married her?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, sire,’ I answered. ‘I desire leave to do so.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mon dieu! she is M. de Turenne’s ward,’ he rejoined, almost dumbfounded - by my audacity. - </p> - <p> - ‘I do not despair of obtaining his assent, sire,’ I said patiently. - </p> - <p> - ‘SAINT GRIS! the man is mad!’ he cried, wheeling his horse and facing his - train with a gesture of the utmost wonder. ‘It is the strangest story I - ever heard.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But somewhat more to the gentleman’s credit than the lady’s!’ one said - with a smirk and a smile. - </p> - <p> - ‘A lie!’ I cried, springing forward on the instant with a boldness which - astonished myself. ‘She is as pure as your Highness’s sister! I swear it. - That man lies in his teeth, and I will maintain it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Sir!’ the King of Navarre cried, turning on me with the utmost sternness, - ‘you forget yourself in my presence! Silence, and beware another time how - you let your tongue run on those above you. You have enough trouble, let - me tell you, on your hands already.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Yet the man lies!’ I answered doggedly, remembering Crillon and his ways. - ‘And if he will do me the honour of stepping aside with me, I will - convince him of it!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘VENTRE SAINT GRIS!’ Henry replied, frowning, and dwelling on each - syllable of his favourite oath. ‘Will you be silent, sir, and let me - think? Or must I order your instant arrest?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Surely that at least, sire,’ a suave voice interjected. And with that a - gentleman pressed forward from the rest, and gaining a place, of ‘vantage - by the King’s side, shot at me a look of extreme malevolence. ‘My lord of - Turenne will expect no less at your Highness’s hands,’ he continued - warmly. ‘I beg you will give the order on the spot, and hold this person - to answer for his misdeeds. M. de Turenne returns to-day. He should be - here now. I say again, sire, he will expect no less than this.’ - </p> - <p> - The king, gazing at me with gloomy eyes, tugged at his moustaches. Someone - had motioned the common herd to stand back out of hearing; at the same - time the suite had moved up out of curiosity and formed a half-circle; in - the midst of which I stood fronting the king, who had La Noue and the last - speaker on either hand. Perplexity and annoyance struggled for the mastery - in his face as he looked darkly down at me, his teeth showing through his - beard. Profoundly angered by my appearance, which he had taken at first to - be the prelude to disclosures which must detach Turenne at a time when - union was all-important, he had now ceased to fear for himself; and - perhaps saw something in the attitude I adopted which appealed to his - nature and sympathies. - </p> - <p> - ‘If the girl is really back,’ he said at last, ‘M. d’Aremburg, I do-not - see any reason why I should interfere. At present, at any rate.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I think, sire, M. de Turenne will see reason,’ the gentleman answered - drily. - </p> - <p> - The king coloured. ‘M. de Turenne,’ he began— - </p> - <p> - ‘Has made many sacrifices at your request, sire,’ the other said with - meaning. ‘And buried some wrongs, or fancied wrongs, in connection with - this very matter. This person has outraged him in the grossest manner, and - in M. le Vicomte’s name I ask, nay I press upon you, that he be instantly - arrested, and held to answer for it.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I am ready to answer for it now!’ I retorted, looking from face to face - for sympathy, and finding none save in M. de la Noue’s, who appeared to - regard me with grave approbation. ‘To the Vicomte de Turenne, or the - person he may appoint to represent him.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Enough!’ Henry said, raising his hand and speaking in the tone of - authority he knew so well how to adopt. ‘For you, M. d’Aremburg, I thank - you. Turenne is happy in his friend. But; this gentleman came to me of his - own free will and I do not think it consistent with my honour to detain - him without warning given. I grant him an hour to remove himself from my - neighbourhood. If he be found after that time has elapsed,’ he continued - solemnly, ‘his fate be on his own head. Gentlemen, we are late already. - Let us on.’ - </p> - <p> - I looked at him as he pronounced this sentence, and strove to find words - in which to make a final appeal to him. But no words came; and when he - bade me stand aside, I did so mechanically, remaining with my head bared - to the sunshine while the troop rode by. Some looked back at me with - curiosity, as at a man of whom they had heard a tale, and some with a jeer - on their lips; a few with dark looks of menace. When they were all gone, - and the servants who followed them had disappeared also, and I was left to - the inquisitive glances of the rabble who stood gaping after the sight, I - turned and went to the Cid, and loosed the horse with a feeling of bitter - disappointment. - </p> - <p> - The plan which mademoiselle had proposed and I had adopted in the forest - by St. Gaultier—when it seemed to us that our long absence and the - great events of which we heard must have changed the world and opened a - path for our return—had failed utterly. Things were as they had - been; the strong were still strong, and friendship under bond to fear. - Plainly we should have shewn ourselves wiser had we taken the lowlier - course, and, obeying the warnings given us, waited the King of Navarre’s - pleasure or the tardy recollection of Rosny. I had not then stood, as I - now stood, in instant jeopardy, nor felt the keen pangs of a separation - which bade fair to be lasting. She was safe, and that was much; but I, - after long service and brief happiness, must go out again alone, with only - memories to comfort me. - </p> - <p> - It was Simon Fleix’s voice which awakened me from this unworthy lethargy—as - selfish as it was useless—and, recalling me to myself, reminded me - that precious time was passing while I stood inactive. To get at me he had - forced his way through the curious crowd, and his face was flushed. He - plucked me by the sleeve, regarding the varlets round him with a mixture - of anger and fear. - </p> - <p> - ‘Nom de Dieu! do they take you for a rope-dancer?’ he muttered in my ear. - ‘Mount, sir, and come. There is not a moment to be lost.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You left her at Madame Catherine’s?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - ‘To be sure,’ he answered impatiently. ‘Trouble not about her. Save - yourself, M. de Marsac. That is the thing to be done now.’ - </p> - <p> - I mounted mechanically, and felt my courage return as the horse moved - under me. I trotted through the crowd, and without thought took the road - by which we had come. When we had ridden a hundred yards, however, I - pulled up ‘An hour is a short start,’ I said sullenly. ‘Whither?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To St. Cloud,’ he answered promptly. ‘The protection of the King of - France may avail for a day or two. After that, there will still be the - League, if Paris have not fallen.’ - </p> - <p> - I saw there was nothing else for it, and assented, and we set off. The - distance which separates Meudon from St. Cloud we might have ridden under - the hour, but the direct road runs across the Scholars’ Meadow, a wide - plain north of Meudon. This lay exposed to the enemy’s fire, and was, - besides, the scene of hourly conflicts between the horse of both parties, - so that to cross it without an adequate force was impossible. Driven to - make a circuit, we took longer to reach our destination, yet did so - without mishap; finding the little town, when we came in sight of it, - given up to all the bustle and commotion which properly belong to the - Court and camp. - </p> - <p> - It was, indeed, as full as it could be, for the surrender of Paris being - momentarily expected, St. Cloud had become the rendezvous as well of the - few who had long followed a principle as of the many who wait upon - success. The streets, crowded in, every part, shone with glancing colours, - with steel and velvet, the garb of fashion and the plumes of war. Long - lines of flags obscured the eaves and broke the sunshine, while, above - all, the bells of half a dozen churches rang merry answer to the distant - crash of guns. Everywhere on flag and arch and streamer I read the motto, - ‘Vive le Roi!’—words written, God knew then, and we know now, in - what a mockery of doom! - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIV. ‘’TIS AN ILL WIND.’ - </h2> - <p> - We had made our way slowly and with much jostling as far as the principal - street, finding the press increase as we advanced, when I heard, as I - turned a corner, my name called, and, looking up, saw at a window the face - of which I was in search. After that half a minute sufficed to bring M. - d’Agen flying to my side, when nothing, as I had expected, would do but I - must dismount where I was and share his lodging. He made no secret of his - joy and surprise at sight of me, but pausing only to tell Simon where the - stable was, haled me through the crowd and up his stairs with a fervour - and heartiness which brought the tears to my eyes, and served to impress - the company whom I found above with a more than sufficient sense of my - importance. - </p> - <p> - Seeing him again in the highest feather and in the full employment of all - those little arts and graces which served as a foil to his real worth, I - took it as a great honour that he laid them aside for the nonce; and - introduced me to the seat of honour and made me known to his companions - with a boyish directness and a simple thought for my comfort which - infinitely pleased me. He bade his landlord, without a moment’s delay, - bring wine and meat and everything which could refresh a traveller, and - was himself up and down a hundred times in a minute, calling to his - servants for this or that, or railing at them for their failure to bring - me a score of things I did not need. I hastened to make my excuses to the - company for interrupting them in the midst of their talk; and these they - were kind enough to accept in good part. At the same time, reading clearly - in M. d’Agen’s excited face and shining eyes that he longed to be alone - with me, they took the hint, and presently left us together. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well,’ he said, coming back from the door, to which he had conducted - them, ‘what have you to tell me, my friend? She is not with you?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘She is with Mademoiselle de la Vire at Meudon,’ I answered, smiling. ‘And - for the rest, she is well and in better spirits.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘She sent me some message? he asked. - </p> - <p> - I shook my head. ‘She did not know I should see you,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘But she—she has spoken of me lately?’ he continued, his face - falling. - </p> - <p> - ‘I do not think she has named your name for a fortnight,’ I answered, - laughing. ‘There’s for you! Why, man,’ I continued, adopting a different - tone, and laying my hand on his shoulder in a manner which reassured him - at least; as much as my words, ‘are you so young a lover as to be ignorant - that a woman says least of that of which she thinks most? Pluck up, - courage! Unless I am mistaken, you have little to be afraid of except the - past. Only have patience.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You think so?’ he said gratefully. - </p> - <p> - I assured him that I had no doubt of it; and on that he fell into a - reverie, and I to watching him. Alas for the littleness of our natures! He - had received me with open arms, yet at sight of the happiness which took - possession of his handsome face I gave way to the pettiest feeling which - can harbour in a man’s breast. I looked at him with eyes of envy, bitterly - comparing my lot with that which fate had reserved for him. He had - fortune, good looks, and success on his side, great relations, and high - hopes; I stood in instant jeopardy, my future dark, and every path which - presented itself so hazardous that I knew not which to adopt. He was - young, and I past my prime; he in favour, and I a fugitive. - </p> - <p> - To such reflections he put an end in a way which made me blush for my - churlishness. For, suddenly awaking out, of his pleasant dream, he asked - me about myself and my fortunes, inquiring eagerly how I came to be in St. - Cloud, and listening to the story of my adventures with a generous anxiety - which endeared him to me more and more. When I had done—and by that - time Simon had joined us, and was waiting at the lower end of the room—he - pronounced that I must see the king. - </p> - <p> - ‘There is nothing else for it,’ he said. - </p> - <p> - ‘I have come to see him,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Mon dieu, yes!’ he continued, rising from his seat and looking at me with - a face of concern. ‘No one else can help you.’ - </p> - <p> - I nodded. - </p> - <p> - ‘Turenne has four thousand men here. You can do nothing against so many?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘The question is, will the king protect me?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is he or no one,’ M. d’Agen answered warmly. ‘You cannot see him - to-night: he has a Council. To-morrow at daybreak you may. You must lie - here to-night, and I will set my fellows to watch, and I think you will be - safe. I will away now and see if my uncle will help. Can you think of - anyone else who would speak for you?’ - </p> - <p> - I considered, and was about to answer in the negative, when Simon, who had - listened with a scared face, suggested M. de Crillon. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, if he would,’ M. d’Agen exclaimed, looking at the lad with - approbation. ‘He has weight with the king.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I think he might,’ I replied slowly. ‘I had a curious encounter with him - last night. And with that I told M. d’Agen of the duel I fought at the - inn. - </p> - <p> - ‘Good!’ he said, his eyes sparkling. ‘I wish I had been there to see. At - any rate we will try him. Crillon fears no one, not even the king.’ - </p> - <p> - So it was settled. For that night I was to keep close in my friend’s - lodging, showing not even my nose at the window. - </p> - <p> - When he had gone on his errand, and I found myself alone in the room, I am - fain to confess that I fell very low in my spirits. M. d’Agen’s travelling - equipment lay about the apartment, but failed to give any but an untidy - air to its roomy bareness. The light was beginning to wane, the sun was - gone. Outside, the ringing of bells and the distant muttering of guns, - with the tumult of sounds which rose from the crowded street, seemed to - tell of joyous life and freedom, and all the hopes and ambitions from - which I was cut off. - </p> - <p> - Having no other employment, I watched the street, and keeping myself well - retired from the window saw knots of gay riders pass this way and that - through the crowd, their corslets shining and their voices high. Monks and - ladies, a cardinal and an ambassador, passed under my eyes—these and - an endless procession of townsmen and beggars, soldiers and courtiers, - Gascons, Normans and Picards. Never had I seen such a sight or so many - people gathered together. It seemed as if half Paris had come out to make - submission, so that while my gorge rose against my own imprisonment, the - sight gradually diverted my mind from my private distresses, by bidding me - find compensation for them in the speedy and glorious triumph of the - cause. - </p> - <p> - Even when the light failed the pageant did not cease, but, torches and - lanthorns springing into life, turned night into day. From every side came - sounds of revelry or strife. The crowd continued to perambulate the - streets until a late hour, with cries of ‘VIVE LE ROI!’ and ‘VIVE - NAVARRE!’ while now and again the passage of a great noble with his suite - called forth a fresh outburst of enthusiasm. Nothing seemed more certain, - more inevitable, more clearly predestinated than that twenty-four hours - must see the fall of Paris. - </p> - <p> - Yet Paris did not fall. - </p> - <p> - When M. d’Agen returned a little before midnight, he found me still - sitting in the dark looking from the window. I heard him call roughly for - lights, and apprised by the sound of his voice that something was wrong, I - rose to meet him. He stood silent awhile, twirling his small moustaches, - and then broke into a passionate tirade, from which I was not slow to - gather that M. de Rambouillet declined to serve me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well,’ I said, feeling for the young man’s distress and embarrassment, - ‘perhaps he is right.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He says that word respecting you came this evening,’ my friend answered, - his cheeks red with shame, ‘and that to countenance you after that would - only be to court certain humiliation. I did not let him off too easily, I - assure you,’ M. d’Agen continued, turning away to evade my gaze; ‘but I - got no satisfaction. He said you had his good-will, and that to help you - he would risk something, but that to do so under these circumstances would - be only to injure himself.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘There is still Crillon,’ I said, with as much cheerfulness as I could - assume. ‘Pray Heaven he be there early! Did M. de Rambouillet say anything - else?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That your only chance was to fly as quickly and secretly as possible.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He thought; my situation desperate, then?’ - </p> - <p> - My friend nodded; and scarcely less depressed on my account than ashamed - on his own, evinced so much feeling that it was all I could do to comfort - him; which I succeeded in doing only when I diverted the conversation to - Madame de Bruhl. We passed the short night together, sharing the same room - and the same bed, and talking more than we slept—of madame and - mademoiselle, the castle on the hill, and the camp in the woods, of all - old days en fin, but little of the future. Soon after dawn Simon, who lay - on a pallet across the threshold, roused me from a fitful sleep into which - I had just fallen, and a few minutes later I stood up dressed and armed, - ready to try the last chance left to me. - </p> - <p> - M. d’Agen had dressed stage for stage with me, and I had kept silence. But - when he took up his cap, and showed clearly that he had it in his mind to - go with me, I withstood him. ‘No, I said, ‘you can do me little good, and - may do yourself much harm.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You shall not go without one friend,’ he cried fiercely. - </p> - <p> - ‘Tut, tut!’ I said. ‘I shall have Simon.’ - </p> - <p> - But Simon, when I turned to speak to him, was gone. Few men are at their - bravest in the early hours of the day, and it did not surprise me that the - lad’s courage had failed him. The defection only strengthened, however, - the resolution I had formed that I would not injure M. d’Agen; though it - was some time before I could persuade him that I was in earnest, and would - go alone or not at all. In the end he had to content himself with lending - me his back and breast, which I gladly put on, thinking it likely enough - that I might be set upon before I reached the castle. And then, the time - being about seven, I parted from him with many embraces and kindly words, - and went into the street with my sword under my cloak. - </p> - <p> - The town, late in rising after its orgy, lay very still and quiet. The - morning was grey and warm, with a cloudy sky. The flags, which had made so - gay, a show yesterday, hung close to the poles, or flapped idly and fell - dead again. I walked slowly along beneath them, keeping a sharp look-out - on every side; but there were few persons moving in the streets, and I - reached the Castle gates without misadventure. Here was something of life; - a bustle of officers and soldiers passing in and out, of courtiers whose - office made their presence necessary, of beggars who had flocked hither in - the night for company. In the middle of these I recognised on a sudden and - with great surprise Simon Fleix walking my horse up and down. On seeing me - he handed it to a boy, and came up to speak to me with a red face, - muttering that four legs were better than two. I did not say much to him, - my heart being full and my thoughts occupied with the presence chamber and - what I should say there; but I nodded kindly to him, and he fell in behind - me as the sentries challenged me. I answered them that I sought M. de - Crillon, and so getting by, fell into the rear of a party of three who - seemed bent on the same errand as myself. - </p> - <p> - One of these was a Jacobin monk, whose black and white robes, by reminding - me of Father Antoine, sent a chill to my heart. The second, whose eye I - avoided, I knew to be M. la Guesle, the king’s Solicitor-General. The - third was a stranger to me. Enabled by M. la Guesle’s presence to pass the - main guards without challenge, the party proceeded through a maze of - passages and corridors, conversing together in a low tone; while I, - keeping in their train with my face cunningly muffled, got as far by this - means as the ante-chamber, which I found almost empty. Here I inquired of - the usher for M. de Crillon, and learned with the utmost consternation - that he was not present. - </p> - <p> - This blow, which almost stunned me, opened my eyes to the precarious - nature of my position, which only the early hour and small attendance - rendered possible for a moment. At any minute I might be recognised and - questioned, or my name be required; while the guarded doors of the chamber - shut me off as effectually from the king’s face and grace as though I were - in Paris, or a hundred leagues away. Endeavouring to the best of my power - to conceal the chagrin and alarm which possessed me as this conviction - took hold of me, I walked to the window; and to hide my face more - completely and at the same time gain a moment to collect my thoughts, - affected to be engaged in looking through it. - </p> - <p> - Nothing which passed in the room, however, escaped me. I marked everything - and everyone, though all my thought was how I might get to the king. The - barber came out of the chamber with a silver basin, and stood a moment, - and went in again with an air of vast importance. The guards yawned, and - an officer entered, looked round, and retired. M. la Guesle, who had gone - in to the presence, came out again and stood near me talking with the - Jacobin, whose pale nervous face and hasty movements reminded me somehow - of Simon Fleix. The monk held a letter or petition in his hand, and - appeared to be getting it by heart, for his lips moved continually. The - light which fell on his face from the window showed it to be of a peculiar - sweaty pallor, and distorted besides. But supposing him to be devoted, - like many of his kind, to an unwholesome life, I thought nothing of this; - though I liked him little, and would have shifted my place but for the - convenience of his neighbourhood. - </p> - <p> - Presently, while I was cudgelling my brains, a person came out and spoke - to La Guesle; who called in his turn to the monk, and started hastily - towards the door. The Jacobin followed. The third person who had entered - in their company had his attention directed elsewhere at the moment; and - though La Guesle called to him, took no heed. On the instant I grasped the - situation. Taking my courage in my hands, I crossed the floor behind the - monk; who, hearing me, or feeling his robe come in contact with me, - presently started and looked round suspiciously, his face wearing a scowl - so black and ugly that I almost recoiled from him, dreaming for a moment - that I saw before me the very spirit of Father Antoine. But as the man - said nothing, and the next instant averted his gaze, I hardened my heart - and pushed on behind him, and passing the usher, found myself as by magic - in the presence which had seemed a while ago as unattainable by my wits as - it was necessary to my safety. - </p> - <p> - It was not this success alone, however, which caused my heart to beat more - hopefully. The king was speaking as I entered, and the gay tones of his - voice seemed to promise a favourable reception. His Majesty sat - half-dressed on a stool at the farther end of the apartment, surrounded by - five or six noblemen, while as many attendants, among whom I hastened to - mingle, waited near the door. - </p> - <p> - La Guesle made as if he would advance, and then, seeing the king’s - attention was not on him, held back. But in a moment the king saw him and - called to him. ‘Ha, Guesle!’ he said with good-temper, ‘is it you? Is your - friend with you?’ - </p> - <p> - The Solicitor went forward with the monk at his elbow, and I had leisure - to remark the favourable change which had taken place in the king, who - spoke more strongly and seemed in better health than of old. His face - looked less cadaverous under the paint, his form a trifle less emaciated. - That which struck me more than anything, however, was the improvement in - his spirits. His eyes sparkled from time to time, and he laughed - continually, so that I could scarcely believe that he was the same man - whom I had seen overwhelmed with despair and tortured by his conscience. - </p> - <p> - Letting his attention slip from La Guesle, he began to bandy words with - the nobleman who stood nearest to him; looking up at him with a roguish - eye, and making bets on the fall of Paris. - </p> - <p> - ‘Morbleu!’ I heard him cry gaily, ‘I would give a thousand pounds to see - the ‘Montpensier this morning! She may keep her third crown for herself. - Or, PESTE! we might put her in a convent. That would be a fine vengeance!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘The veil for the tonsure,’ the nobleman said with a smirk. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay. Why not? She would have made a monk of me,’ the king rejoined - smartly. ‘She must be ready to hang herself with her garters this morning, - if she is not dead of spite already. Or, stay, I had forgotten her golden - scissors. Let her open a vein with them. Well, what does your friend want, - La Guesle?’ - </p> - <p> - I did not hear the answer, but it was apparently satisfactory, for in a - minute all except the Jacobin fell back, leaving the monk standing before - the king; who, stretching out his hand, took from him a letter. The - Jacobin, trembling visibly, seemed scarcely able to support the honour - done him, and the king, seeing this, said in a voice audible to all, - ‘Stand up, man. You are welcome. I love a cowl as some love a lady’s hood. - And now, what is this?’ - </p> - <p> - He read a part of the letter and rose. As he did so the monk leaned - forward as though to receive the paper back again, and then so swiftly, so - suddenly, with so unexpected a movement that no one stirred until all was - over, struck the king in the body with a knife! As the blade flashed and - was hidden, and His Majesty with a deep sob fell back on the stool, then, - and not till then, I knew that I had missed a providential chance of - earning pardon and protection. For had I only marked the Jacobin as we - passed the door together, and read his evil face aright, a word, one word, - had done for me more than the pleading of a score of Crillons! - </p> - <p> - Too late a dozen sprang forward to the king’s assistance; but before they - reached him he had himself drawn the knife from the wound and struck the - assassin with it on the head. While some, with cries of grief, ran to - support Henry, from whose body the blood was already flowing fast, others - seized and struck down the wretched monk. As they gathered round him I saw - him raise himself for a moment on his knees and look upward; the blood - which ran down his face, no less than the mingled triumph and horror of - his features, impressed the sight on my recollection. The next instant - three swords were plunged into his breast, and his writhing body, plucked - up from the floor amid a transport of curses, was forced headlong through - the casement and flung down to make sport for the grooms and scullions who - stood below. - </p> - <p> - A scene of indescribable confusion followed, some crying that the king was - dead, while others called for a doctor, and some by name for Dortoman. I - expected to see the doors closed and all within secured, that if the man - had confederates they might be taken. But there was no one to give the - order. Instead, many who had neither the ENTREE nor any business in the - chamber forced their way in, and by their cries and pressure rendered the - hub-bub and tumult a hundred times worse. In the midst of this, while I - stood stunned and dumbfounded, my own risks and concerns forgotten, I felt - my sleeve furiously plucked, and, looking round, found Simon at my elbow. - The lad’s face was crimson, his eyes seemed, starting from his head. - </p> - <p> - ‘Come,’ he muttered, seizing my arm. ‘Come!’ And without further ceremony - or explanation he dragged me towards the door, while his face and manner - evinced as much heat and impatience as if he had been himself the - assassin. ‘Come, there is not a moment to be lost,’ he panted, continuing - his exertions without the least intermission. - </p> - <p> - ‘Whither?’ I said, in amazement, as I reluctantly permitted him to force - me along the passage and through the gaping crowd on the stairs. ‘Whither, - man?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Mount and ride!’ was the answer he hissed in my ear. ‘Ride for your life - to the King of Navarre—to the King of France it may be! Ride as you - have never ridden before, and tell him the news, and bid him look to - himself! Be the first, and, Heaven helping us, Turenne may do his worst!’ - </p> - <p> - I felt every nerve in my body tingle as I awoke to his meaning. Without a - word I left his arm, and flung myself into the crowd which filled the - lower passage to suffocation. As I struggled fiercely with them Simon - aided me by crying ‘A doctor! a doctor! make way there!’ and this induced - many to give place to me under the idea that I was an accredited - messenger. Eventually I succeeded in forcing my way through and reaching - the courtyard; being, as it turned out, the first person to issue from the - Chateau. A dozen people sprang towards me with anxious eyes and questions - on their lips; but I ran past them and, catching the Cid, which was - fortunately at hand, by the rein, bounded into the saddle. - </p> - <p> - As I turned the horse to the gate I heard Simon cry after me. ‘The - Scholars’ Meadow! Go that way!’ and then I heard no more. I was out of the - yard and galloping bare-headed down the pitched street, while women - snatched their infants up and ran aside, and men came startled to the - doors, crying that the League was upon us. As the good horse flung up his - head and bounded forward, hurling the gravel behind him with hoofs which - slid and clattered on the pavement, as the wind began to whistle by me, - and I seized the reins in a shorter grip, I felt my heart bound with - exultation. I experienced such a blessed relief and elation as the - prisoner long fettered and confined feels when restored to the air of - heaven. - </p> - <p> - Down one street and through a narrow lane we thundered, until a broken - gateway stopped with fascines—through which the Cid blundered and - stumbled—brought us at a bound into the Scholars’ Meadow just as the - tardy sun broke through the clouds and flooded the low, wide plain with - brightness. Half a league in front of us the towers of Meudon rose to view - on a hill. In the distance, to the left, lay the walls of Paris, and - nearer, on the same side, a dozen forts and batteries; while here and - there, in that quarter, a shining clump of spears or a dense mass of - infantry betrayed the enemy’s presence. - </p> - <p> - I heeded none of these things, however, nor anything except the towers of - Meudon, setting the Cid’s head straight for these and riding on at the top - of his speed. Swiftly ditch and dyke came into view before us and flashed - away beneath us. Men lying in pits rose up and aimed at us; or ran with - cries to intercept us. A cannon-shot fired from the fort by Issy tore up - the earth to one side; a knot of lancers sped from the shelter of an - earthwork in the same quarter, and raced us for half a mile, with frantic - shouts and threats of vengeance. But all such efforts were vanity. The - Cid, fired by this sudden call upon his speed, and feeling himself loosed—rarest - of events—to do his best, shook the foam from his bit, and opening - his blood-red nostrils to the wind, crouched lower and lower; until his - long neck, stretched out before him, seemed, as the sward swept by, like - the point of an arrow speeding resistless to its aim. - </p> - <p> - God knows, as the air rushed by me and the sun shone in my face, I cried - aloud like a boy, and though I sat still and stirred neither hand nor - foot, lest I should break the good Sard’s stride, I prayed wildly that the - horse which I had groomed with my own hands and fed with my last crown - might hold on unfaltering to the end. For I dreamed that the fate of a - nation rode in my saddle; and mindful alike of Simon’s words, ‘Bid him - look to himself,’ and of my own notion that the League would not be so - foolish as to remove one enemy to exalt another, I thought nothing more - likely than that, with all my fury, I should arrive too late, and find the - King of Navarre as I had left the King of France. - </p> - <p> - In this strenuous haste I covered a mile as a mile has seldom been covered - before; and I was growing under the influence of the breeze which whipped - my temples somewhat more cool and hopeful, when I saw on a sudden right - before me, and between me and Meudon, a handful of men engaged in a MELEE. - There were red and white jackets in it—leaguers and Huguenots—and - the red coats seemed to be having the worst of it. Still, while I watched, - they came off in order, and unfortunately in such a way and at such a - speed that I saw they must meet me face to face whether I tried to avoid - the encounter or not. I had barely time to take in the danger and its - nearness, and discern beyond both parties the main-guard of the Huguenots, - enlivened by a score of pennons, when the Leaguers were upon me. - </p> - <p> - I suppose they knew that no friend would ride for Meudon at that pace, for - they dashed at me six abreast with a shout of triumph; and before I could - count a score we met. The Cid was still running strongly, and I had not - thought to stay him, so that I had no time to use my pistols. My sword I - had out, but the sun dazzled me and the men wore corslets, and I made but - poor play with it; though I struck out savagely, as we crashed together, - in my rage at this sudden crossing of my hopes when all seemed done and - gained. The Cid faced them bravely—I heard the distant huzza of the - Huguenots—and I put aside one point which threatened my throat. But - the sun was in my eyes and something struck me on the head. Another - second, and a blow in the breast forced me fairly from the saddle. - Gripping furiously at the air I went down, stunned and dizzy, my last - thought as I struck the ground being of mademoiselle, and the little brook - with the stepping-stones. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXV. ‘LE ROI EST MORT!’ - </h2> - <p> - It was M. d’Agen’s breastpiece saved my life by warding off the point of - the varlet’s sword, so that the worst injury I got was the loss of my - breath for five minutes, with a swimming in the head and a kind of - syncope. These being past, I found myself on my back on the ground, with a - man’s knee on my breast and a dozen horsemen standing round me. The sky - reeled dizzily before my eyes and the men’s figures loomed gigantic; yet I - had sense enough to know what had happened to me, and that matters might - well be worse. - </p> - <p> - Resigning myself to the prospect of captivity, I prepared to ask for - quarter; which I did not doubt I should receive, since they had taken me - in an open skirmish, and honestly, and in the daylight. But the man whose - knee already incommoded me sufficiently, seeing me about to speak, - squeezed me on a sudden so fiercely, bidding me at the same time in a - gruff whisper be silent, that I thought I could not do better than obey. - </p> - <p> - Accordingly I lay still, and as in a dream, for my brain was still - clouded, heard someone say, ‘Dead! Is he? I hoped we had come in time. - Well, he deserved a better fate. Who is he, Rosny?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Do you know him, Maignan?’ said a voice which sounded strangely familiar. - </p> - <p> - The man who knelt; upon me answered, ‘No, my lord. He is a stranger to me. - He has the look of a Norman.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Like enough!’ replied a high-pitched voice I had not heard before. ‘For - he rode a good horse. Give me a hundred like it, and a hundred men to ride - as straight, and I would not envy the King of France.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Much less his poor cousin of Navarre,’ the first speaker rejoined in a - laughing tone, ‘without a whole shirt to his back or a doublet that is - decently new. Come, Turenne, acknowledge that you are not so badly off - after all!’ - </p> - <p> - At that word the cloud which had darkened my faculties swept on a sudden - aside. I saw that the men into whose hands I had fallen wore white - favours, their leader a white plume; and comprehended without more that - the King of Navarre had come to my rescue, and beaten off the Leaguers who - had dismounted me. At the same moment the remembrance of all that had gone - before, and especially of the scene I had witnessed in the king’s chamber, - rushed upon my mind with such overwhelming force that I fell into a fury - of impatience at the thought of the time I had wasted; and rising up - suddenly I threw off Maignan with all my force, crying out that I was - alive—that I was alive, and had news. - </p> - <p> - The equerry did his best to restrain me, cursing me under his breath for a - fool, and almost; squeezing the life out of me. But in vain, for the King - of Navarre, riding nearer, saw me struggling. ‘Hallo! hallo! ‘tis a - strange dead man,’ he cried, interposing. ‘What is the meaning of this? - Let him go! Do you hear, sirrah? Let him go!’ - </p> - <p> - The equerry obeyed and stood back sullenly, and I staggered to my feet, - and looked round with eyes which still swam and watered. On the instant a - cry of recognition greeted me, with a hundred exclamations of - astonishment. While I heard my name uttered on every side in a dozen - different tones, I remarked that M. de Rosny, upon whom my eyes first - fell, alone stood silent, regarding me with a face of sorrowful surprise. - </p> - <p> - ‘By heavens, sir, I knew nothing of this!’ I heard the King of Navarre - declare, addressing himself to the Vicomte de Turenne. ‘The man is here by - no connivance of mine. Interrogate him yourself, if you will. Or I will. - Speak, sir,’ he continued, turning to me with his countenance hard and - forbidding. ‘You heard me yesterday, what I promised you? Why, in God’s - name, are you here to-day?’ - </p> - <p> - I tried to answer, but Maignan had so handled me that I had not breath - enough, and stood panting. - </p> - <p> - ‘Your Highness’s clemency in this matter,’ M. de Turenne said, with a - sneer, ‘has been so great he trusted to its continuance. And doubtless he - thought to find you alone. I fear I am in the way.’ - </p> - <p> - I knew him by his figure and his grand air, which in any other company - would have marked him for master; and forgetting the impatience which a - moment before had consumed me—doubtless I was still light-headed—I - answered him. ‘Yet I had once the promise of your lordship’s protection,’ - I gasped. - </p> - <p> - ‘My protection, sir?’ he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming angrily. - </p> - <p> - ‘Even so,’ I answered. ‘At the inn at Etampes, where M. de Crillon would - have fought me.’ - </p> - <p> - He was visibly taken aback. ‘Are you that man?’ he cried. - </p> - <p> - ‘I am. But I am not here to prate of myself,’ I replied. And with that—the - remembrance of my neglected errand flashing on me again—I staggered - to the King of Navarre’s side, and, falling on my knees, seized his - stirrup. ‘Sire, I bring you news! great news! dreadful news!’ I cried, - clinging to it. ‘His Majesty was but a quarter of an hour ago stabbed in - the body in his chamber by a villain monk. And is dying, or, it may be, - dead.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Dead? The King!’ Turenne cried with an oath. ‘Impossible!’ - </p> - <p> - Vaguely I heard others crying, some this, some that, as surprise and - consternation, or anger, or incredulity moved them. But I did not answer - them, for Henry, remaining silent, held me spellbound and awed by the - marvellous change which I saw fall on his face. His eyes became on a - sudden suffused with blood, and seemed to retreat under his heavy brows; - his cheeks turned of a brick-red colour; his half-open lips showed his - teeth gleaming through his beard; while his great nose, which seemed to - curve and curve until it well-nigh met his chin, gave to his mobile - countenance an aspect as strange as it was terrifying. Withal he uttered - for a time no word, though I saw his hand, grip the riding-whip he held in - a convulsive grasp, as though his thought were ‘’Tis mine! Mine! Wrest it - away who dares!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Bethink you, sir,’ he said at last, fixing his piercing eyes on me, and - speaking in a harsh, low tone, like the growling of a great dog, ‘this is - no jesting-time. Nor will you save your skin by a ruse. Tell me, on your - peril, is this a trick?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Heaven forbid, sire!’ I answered with passion. ‘I was in the chamber, and - saw it; with my own eyes. I mounted on the instant, and rode hither by the - shortest route to warn your Highness to look to yourself. Monks are many, - and the Holy Union is not apt to stop half-way.’ - </p> - <p> - I saw he believed me, for his face relaxed. His breath seemed to come and - go again, and for the tenth part of a second his eyes sought M. de - Rosny’s. Then he looked at me again. - </p> - <p> - ‘I thank you, sir, he said, bowing gravely and courteously, ‘for your care - for me—not for your tidings, which are of the sorriest. God grant my - good cousin and king may be hurt only. Now tell us exactly—for these - gentlemen are equally interested with myself—had a surgeon seen - him?’ - </p> - <p> - I replied in the negative, but added that the wound was in the groin, and - bled much. - </p> - <p> - ‘You said a few minutes ago, “dying or already dead!”’ the King of Navarre - rejoined. ‘Why?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘His Majesty’s face was sunken,’ I stammered. - </p> - <p> - He nodded. ‘You may be mistaken,’ he said. ‘I pray that you are. But here - comes Mornay. He may know more.’ - </p> - <p> - In a moment I was abandoned, even by M. de Turenne, so great was the - anxiety which possessed all to learn the truth. Maignan alone, under - pretence of adjusting a stirrup, remained beside me, and entreated me in a - low voice to begone. ‘Take this horse, M. de Marsac, if you will,’ he - urged, ‘and ride back the way you came. You have done what you came to do. - Go back, and be thankful.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Chut!’ I said, ‘there is no danger.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You will see,’ he replied darkly, ‘if you stay here. Come, come, take my - advice and the horse,’ he persisted, ‘and begone! Believe me, it will be - for the best.’ - </p> - <p> - I laughed outright at his earnestness and his face of perplexity. ‘I see - you have M. de Rosny’s orders to get rid of me,’ I said. ‘But I am not - going, my friend. He must find some other way out of his embarrassment, - for here I stay.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, your blood be on your own head,’ Maignan retorted, swinging himself - into the saddle with a gloomy face. ‘I have done my best to save you!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And your master!’ I answered, laughing. - </p> - <p> - For flight was the last thing I had in my mind. I had ridden this ride - with a clear perception that the one thing I needed was a footing at - Court. By the special kindness of Providence I had now gained this; and I - was not the man to resign it because it proved to be scanty and perilous. - It was something that I had spoken to the great Vicomte face to face and - not been consumed, that I had given him look for look and still survived, - that I had put in practice Crillon’s lessons and come to no harm. - </p> - <p> - Nor was this all. I had never in the worst times blamed the King of - Navarre for his denial of me, I had been foolish, indeed, seeing that it - was in the bargain, had I done so; nor had I ever doubted his good-will or - his readiness to reward me should occasion arise. Now, I flattered myself, - I had given him that which he needed, and had hitherto lacked—an - excuse, I mean, for interference in my behalf. - </p> - <p> - Whether I was right or wrong in this notion I was soon to learn, for at - this moment Henry’s cavalcade, which had left me a hundred paces behind, - came to a stop, and while some of the number waved to me to come on, one - spurred back to summon me to the king. I hastened to obey the order as - fast as I could, but I saw on approaching that though all was at a - standstill till I came up, neither the King of Navarre nor M. de Turenne - was thinking principally of me. Every face, from Henry’s to that of his - least important courtier, wore an air of grave preoccupation; which I had - no difficulty in ascribing to the doubt present in every mind, and - outweighing every interest, whether the King of France was dead, or dying, - or merely wounded. - </p> - <p> - ‘Quick, sir!’ Henry said with impatience, as soon as I came within - hearing. ‘Do not detain me with your affairs longer than is necessary. M. - de Turenne presses me to carry into effect the order I gave yesterday. But - as you have placed yourself in jeopardy on my account I feel that - something is due to you. You will be good enough, therefore, to present - yourself at once at M. la Varenne’s lodging, and give me your parole to - remain there without stirring abroad until your affair is concluded.’ - </p> - <p> - Aware that I owed this respite, which at once secured my present safety - and promised well for the future, to the great event that, even in M. de - Turenne’s mind, had overshadowed all others, I bowed in silence. Henry, - however, was not content with this. ‘Come, sir,’ he said sharply, and with - every appearance of anger, ‘do you agree to that?’ - </p> - <p> - I replied humbly that I thanked him for his clemency. - </p> - <p> - ‘There is no need of thanks,’ he replied coldly. ‘What I have done is - without prejudice to M. de Turenne’s complaint. He must have justice.’ - </p> - <p> - I bowed again, and in a moment the troop were gone at a gallop towards - Meudon, whence, as I afterwards learned, the King of Navarre, attended by - a select body of five-and-twenty horsemen, wearing private arms, rode on - at full speed to St. Cloud to present himself at his Majesty’s bedside. A - groom who had caught the Cid, which had escaped into the town with no - other injury than a slight wound in the shoulder, by-and-by met me with - the horse; and in this way I was enabled to render myself with some - decency at Varenne’s lodging, a small house at the foot of the hill, not - far from the Castle-gate. - </p> - <p> - Here I found myself under no greater constraint than that which my own - parole laid upon me; and my room having the conveniency of a window - looking upon the public street, I was enabled from hour to hour to - comprehend and enter into the various alarms and surprises which made that - day remarkable. The manifold reports which flew from mouth to mouth on the - occasion, as well as the overmastering excitement which seized all, are so - well remembered, however, that I forbear to dwell upon them, though they - served to distract my mind from my own position. Suffice it that at one - moment we heard that His Majesty was dead, at another that the wound was - skin deep, and again that we might expect him at Meudon before sunset. The - rumour that the Duchess de Montpensier had taken poison was no sooner - believed than we were asked to listen to the guns of Paris firing FEUX DE - JOIE in honour of the King’s death. - </p> - <p> - The streets were so closely packed with persons telling and hearing these - tales that I seemed from my window to be looking on a fair. Nor was all my - amusement withoutdoors; for a number of the gentlemen of the Court, - hearing that I had been at St. Cloud in the morning, and in the very - chamber, a thing which made me for the moment the most desirable companion - in the world, remembered on a sudden that they had a slight acquaintance - with me, and honoured me by calling upon me and sitting a great part of - the day with me. From which circumstance I confess I derived as much hope - as they diversion; knowing that courtiers are the best weather-prophets in - the world, who hate nothing so much as to be discovered in the company of - those on whom the sun does not shine. - </p> - <p> - The return of the King of Navarre, which happened about the middle of the - afternoon, while it dissipated the fears of some and dashed the hopes of - others, put an end to this state of uncertainty by confirming, to the - surprise of many, that His Majesty was in no danger. We learned with - varying emotions that the first appearances, which had deceived, not - myself only, but experienced leeches, had been themselves belied by - subsequent conditions; and that, in a word, Paris had as much to fear, and - loyal men as much to hope, as before this wicked and audacious attempt. - </p> - <p> - I had no more than stomached this surprising information, which was less - welcome to me, I confess, than it should have been, when the arrival of M. - d’Agen, who greeted me with the affection which he never failed to show - me, distracted my thoughts for a time. Immediately on learning where I was - and, the strange adventures which had befallen me he had ridden off; - stopping only once, when he had nearly reached me, for the purpose of - waiting on Madame de Bruhl. I asked him how she had received him. - </p> - <p> - ‘Like herself,’ he replied with an ingenuous blush. ‘More kindly than I - had a right to expect, if not as warmly as I had the courage to hope.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘That will come with time,’ I said, laughing. ‘And Mademoiselle de la - Vire?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I did not see her,’ he answered, ‘but I heard she was well. And a hundred - fathoms deeper in love,’ he added, eyeing me roguishly, ‘than when I saw - her last.’ - </p> - <p> - It was my turn to colour now, and I did so, feeling all the pleasure and - delight such a statement was calculated to afford me. Picturing - mademoiselle as I had seen her last, leaning from her horse with love - written so plainly on her weeping face that all who ran might read, I sank - into so delicious a reverie that M. la Varenne, entering suddenly, - surprised us both before another word passed on either side. - </p> - <p> - His look and tone were as abrupt as it was in his nature, which was soft - and compliant, to make them. ‘M. de Marsac,’ he said, ‘I am sorry to put - any constraint upon you, but I am directed to forbid you to your friends. - And I must request this gentleman to withdraw.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But all day my friends have come in and out,’ I said with surprise. ‘Is - this a new order?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘A written order, which reached me no farther back than two minutes ago, - ‘he answered plainly. ‘I am also directed to remove you to a room at the - back of the house, that you may not overlook the street.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But my parole was taken,’ I cried, with a natural feeling of indignation. - </p> - <p> - He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I am sorry to say that I have nothing to do - with that,’ he answered. ‘I can only obey orders. I must ask this - gentleman, therefore, to withdraw.’ - </p> - <p> - Of course M. d’Agen had no option but to leave me; which he did, I could - see, notwithstanding his easy and confident expressions, with a good deal - of mistrust and apprehension. When he was gone, La Varenne lost no time in - carrying out the remainder of his orders. As a consequence I found myself - confined to a small and gloomy apartment which looked, at a distance of - three paces, upon the smooth face of the rock on which the Castle stood. - This change, from a window which commanded all the life of the town, and - intercepted every breath of popular fancy, to a closet whither no sounds - penetrated, and where the very transition from noon to evening scarcely - made itself known, could not fail to depress my spirits sensibly; the more - as I took it to be significant of a change in my fortunes fully as grave. - Reflecting that I must now appear to the King of Navarre in the light of a - bearer of false tidings, I associated the order to confine me more closely - with his return from St. Cloud; and comprehending that M. de Turenne was - once more at liberty to attend to my affairs, I began to look about me - with forebodings which were none the less painful because the parole I had - given debarred me from any attempt to escape. - </p> - <p> - Sleep and habit enabled me, nevertheless, to pass the night in comfort. - Very early in the morning a great firing of guns, which made itself heard - even in my quarters, led me to suppose that Paris had surrendered; but the - servant who brought me my breakfast; declined in a surly fashion to give - me any information. In the end, I spent the whole day alone, my thoughts - divided between my mistress and my own prospects, which seemed to grow - more and more gloomy as the hours succeeded one another. No one came near - me, no step broke the silence of the house; and for a while I thought my - guardians had forgotten even that I needed food. This omission, it is - true, was made good about sunset, but still M. la Varenne did not appear, - the servant seemed to be dumb, and I heard no sounds in the house. - </p> - <p> - I had finished my meal an hour or more, and the room was growing dark, - when the silence was at last broken by quick steps passing along the - entrance. They paused, and seemed to hesitate at the foot of the stairs, - but the next moment they came on again, and stopped at my door. I rose - from my seat on hearing the key turned in the lock, and my astonishment - may be conceived when I saw no other than M. de Turenne enter, and close - the door behind him. - </p> - <p> - He saluted me in a haughty manner as he advanced to the table, raising his - cap for an instant and then replacing it. This done he stood looking at - me, and I at him, in a silence which on my side was the result of pure - astonishment; on his, of contempt and a kind of wonder. The evening light, - which was fast failing, lent a sombre whiteness to his face, causing it to - stand out from the shadows behind him in a way which was not without its - influence on me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well!’ he said at, last, speaking slowly and with unimaginable insolence, - ‘I am here to look at you!’ - </p> - <p> - I felt my anger rise, and gave him back look for look. ‘At your will,’ I - said, shrugging my shoulders. - </p> - <p> - ‘And to solve a question,’ he continued in the same tone. ‘To learn - whether the man who was mad enough to insult and defy me was the old - penniless dullard some called him, or the dare-devil others painted him.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You are satisfied now?’ I said. - </p> - <p> - He eyed me for a moment closely; then with sudden heat he cried, ‘Curse me - if I am! Nor whether I have to do with a man very deep or very shallow, a - fool or a knave!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘You may say what you please to a prisoner,’ I retorted coldly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Turenne commonly does—to whom he pleases!’ he answered. The next - moment he made me start by saying, as he drew out a comfit-box and opened - it, ‘I am just from the little fool you have bewitched. If she were in my - power I would have her whipped and put on bread and water till she came to - her senses. As she is not, I must take another way. Have you any idea, may - I ask,’ he continued in his cynical tone, ‘what is going to become of you, - M. de Marsac?’ - </p> - <p> - I replied, my heart inexpressibly lightened by what he had said of - mademoiselle, that I placed the fullest confidence in the justice of the - King of Navarre. - </p> - <p> - He repeated the name in a tone, I did not understand. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, sir, the King of Navarre,’ I answered firmly. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, I daresay you have good reason to do so,’ he rejoined with a sneer. - ‘Unless I am mistaken he knew a little more of this affair than he - acknowledges.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Indeed? The King of Navarre?’ I said, staring stolidly at him. - </p> - <p> - ‘Yes, indeed, indeed, the King of Navarre!’ he retorted, mimicking me, - with a nearer approach to anger than I had yet witnessed in him. ‘But let - him be a moment, sirrah!’ he continued, ‘and do you listen to me. Or first - look at that. Seeing is believing.’ - </p> - <p> - He drew out as he spoke a paper, or, to speak more correctly, a parchment, - which he thrust with a kind of savage scorn into my hand. Repressing for - the moment the surprise I felt, I took it to the window, and reading it - with difficulty, found it to be a royal patent drawn, as far as I could - judge, in due form, and appointing some person unknown—for the name - was left blank—to the post of Lieutenant-Governor of the Armagnac, - with a salary of twelve thousand livres a year! - </p> - <p> - ‘Well, sir?’ he said impatiently. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well?’ I answered mechanically. For my brain reeled; the exhibition of - such a paper in such a way raised extraordinary thoughts in my mind. - </p> - <p> - ‘Can you read it?’ he asked. - </p> - <p> - ‘Certainly,’ I answered, telling myself that he would fain play a trick on - me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Very well,’ he replied, ‘then listen. I am going to condescend; to make - you an offer, M. de Marsac. I will procure you your freedom, and fill up - the blank, which you see there, with your name—upon one condition.’ - </p> - <p> - I stared at him with all the astonishment it was natural for me to feel in - the face, of such a proposition. ‘You will confer this office on me?’ I - muttered incredulously. - </p> - <p> - ‘The king having placed it at my disposal,’ he answered, ‘I will. But - first let me remind you,’ he went on proudly, ‘that the affair has another - side. On the one hand I offer you such employment, M. de Marsac, as should - satisfy your highest ambition. On the other, I warn you that my power to - avenge myself is no less to-day than it was yesterday; and that if I - condescend to buy you, it is because that course commends itself to me for - reasons, not because it is the only one open.’ - </p> - <p> - I bowed. ‘The condition, M. le Vicomte?’ I said huskily, beginning to - understand him. - </p> - <p> - ‘That you give up all claim and suit to the hand of my kinswoman,’ he - answered lightly. ‘That is all. It is a simple and easy condition.’ - </p> - <p> - I looked at him in renewed astonishment, in wonder, in stupefaction; - asking myself a hundred questions. Why did he stoop to bargain, who could - command? Why did he condescend to treat, who held me at his mercy? Why did - he gravely discuss my aspirations, to whom they must seem the rankest - presumption? Why?—but I could not follow it. I stood looking at him - in silence; in perplexity as great as if he had offered me the Crown of - France; in amazement and doubt and suspicion that knew no bounds. - </p> - <p> - ‘Well!’ he said at last, misreading the emotion which appeared in my face. - ‘You consent, sir?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Never!’ I answered firmly. - </p> - <p> - He started. ‘I think I cannot have heard you aright,’ he said, speaking - slowly and almost courteously. ‘I offer you a great place and my - patronage, M. de Marsac. Do I understand that you prefer a prison and my - enmity?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘On those conditions,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Think, think!’ he said harshly. - </p> - <p> - ‘I have thought,’ I answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ay, but have you thought where you are?’ he retorted. ‘Have you thought - how many obstacles lie between you and this little fool? How many persons - you must win over, how many friends you must gain? Have you thought what - it will be to have me against you in this, or which of us is more likely - to win in the end?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘I have thought,’ I rejoined. - </p> - <p> - But my voice shook, my lips were dry. The room had grown dark. The rock - outside, intercepting the light, gave it already the air of a dungeon. - Though I did not dream of yielding to him, though I even felt that in this - interview he had descended to my level, and I had had the better of him, I - felt my heart sink. For I remembered how men immured in prisons drag out - their lives always petitioning, always forgotten; how wearily the days go, - that to free men are bright with hope and ambition. And I saw in a flash - what it would be to remain here, or in some such place; never to cross - horse again, or breathe the free air of Heaven, never to hear the clink of - sword against stirrup, or the rich tones of M. d’Agen’s voice calling for - his friend! - </p> - <p> - I expected M. de Turenne to go when I had made my answer, or else to fall - into such a rage as opposition is apt to cause in those who seldom - encounter it. To my surprise, however, he restrained himself. ‘Come,’ he - said, with patience which fairly astonished me, and so much the more as - chagrin was clearly marked in his voice, ‘I know where you put your trust. - You think the King of Navarre will protect you. Well, I pledge you the - honour of Turenne that he will not; that the King of Navarre will do - nothing to save you. Now, what do you say?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘As I said before,’ I answered doggedly. - </p> - <p> - He took up the parchment from the table with a grim laugh. ‘So much the - worse for you then!’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘So much the worse - for you! I took you for a rogue! It seems you are a fool!’ - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXVI. ‘VIVE LE ROI!’ - </h2> - <p> - He took his leave with those words. But his departure, which I should have - hailed a few minutes before with joy, as a relief from embarrassment and - humiliation, found me indifferent. The statement to which he had solemnly - pledged himself in regard to the King of Navarre, that I could expect no - further help from him, had prostrated me; dashing my hopes and spirits so - completely that I remained rooted to the spot long after his step had - ceased to sound on the stairs. If what he said was true, in the gloom - which darkened alike my room and my prospects I could descry no glimmer of - light. I knew His Majesty’s weakness and vacillation too well to repose - any confidence in him; if the King of Navarre also abandoned me, I was - indeed without hope, as without resource. - </p> - <p> - I had stood some time with my mind painfully employed upon this problem, - which my knowledge of M. de Turenne’s strict honour in private matters did - not allow me to dismiss lightly, when I heard another step on the stairs, - and in a moment M. la Varenne opened the door. Finding me in the dark he - muttered an apology for the remissness of the servants; which I accepted, - seeing nothing else for it, in good part. - </p> - <p> - ‘We have been at sixes-and-sevens all day, and you have been forgotten,’ - he continued. ‘But you will have no reason to complain now. I am ordered - to conduct you to His Majesty without delay.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To St. Cloud?’ I exclaimed, greatly astonished. - </p> - <p> - ‘No, the king of France is here,’ he answered. - </p> - <p> - ‘At Meudon?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘To be sure. Why not?’ - </p> - <p> - I expressed my wonder at his Majesty’s rapid recovery. - </p> - <p> - ‘Pooh!’ he answered roughly. ‘He is as well as he ever was. I will leave - you my light. Be good enough to descend as soon as you are ready, for it - is ill work keeping kings waiting. Oh! and I had forgotten one thing,’ he - continued, returning when he had already reached the door. ‘My orders are - to see that you do not hold converse with anyone until you have seen the - king, M. de Marsac. You will kindly remember this if we are kept waiting - in the antechamber.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Am I to be transported to—other custody?’ I asked, my mind full of - apprehension. - </p> - <p> - He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Possibly,’ he replied. ‘I do not know.’ - </p> - <p> - Of course there was nothing for it but to murmur that I was at the king’s - disposition; after which La Varenne retired, leaving me to put the best - face on the matter I could. Naturally I augured anything but well of an - interview weighted with such a condition; and this contributed still - further to depress my spirits, already lowered by the long solitude in - which I had passed the day. Fearing nothing, however, so much as suspense, - I hastened to do what I could to repair my costume, and then descended to - the foot of the stairs, where I found my custodian awaiting me with a - couple of servants, of whom one bore a link. - </p> - <p> - We went out side by side, and having barely a hundred yards to go, seemed - in a moment to be passing through the gate of the Castle. I noticed that - the entrance was very strongly guarded, but an instant’s reflection served - to remind me that this was not surprising after what had happened at St. - Cloud. I remarked to M. la Varenne as we crossed the courtyard that I - supposed Paris had surrendered; but he replied in the negative so curtly, - and with so little consideration, that I forebore to ask any other - questions; and the Chateau being small, we found ourselves almost at once - in a long, narrow corridor, which appeared to serve as the antechamber. - </p> - <p> - It was brilliantly lighted and crowded from end to end, and almost from - wall to wall, with a mob of courtiers; whose silence, no less than their - keen and anxious looks, took me by surprise. Here and there two or three, - who had seized upon the embrasure of a window, talked together in a low - tone; or a couple, who thought themselves sufficiently important to pace - the narrow passage between the waiting lines, conversed in whispers as - they walked. But even these were swift to take alarm, and continually - looked askance; while the general company stood at gaze, starting and - looking up eagerly whenever the door swung open or a newcomer was - announced. The strange silence which prevailed reminded me of nothing so - much as of the Court at Blois on the night of the Duke of Mercoeur’s - desertion; but that stillness had brooded over empty chambers, this gave a - peculiar air of strangeness to a room thronged in every part. - </p> - <p> - M. la Varenne, who was received by those about the door with silent - politeness, drew me into the recess of a window; whence I was able to - remark, among other things, that the Huguenots present almost outnumbered - the king’s immediate following. Still, among those who were walking up and - down, I noticed M. de Rambouillet, to whom at another time I should have - hastened to pay my respects; with Marshal d’Aumont, Sancy, and Humieres. - Nor had I more than noted the presence of these before the door of the - chamber opened and added to their number Marshal Biron, who came out - leaning on the arm of Crillon. The sight of these old enemies in - combination was sufficient of itself to apprise me that some serious - crisis was at hand; particularly as their progress through the crowd was - watched, I observed, by a hundred curious and attentive eyes. - </p> - <p> - They disappeared at last through the outer door, and the assemblage turned - as with one accord to see who came next. But nearly half an hour elapsed - before the Chamber door, which all watched so studiously, again opened. - This time it was to give passage to my late visitor, Turenne, who came out - smiling, and leaning, to my great surprise, on the arm of M. de Rosny. - </p> - <p> - As the two walked down the room, greeting here and there an obsequious - friend, and followed in their progress by all eyes, I felt my heart sink - indeed; both at sight of Turenne’s good-humour, and of the company in - which I found him. Aware that in proportion as he was pleased I was like - to meet with displeasure, I still might have had hope left had I had Rosny - left. Losing him, however—and I could not doubt, seeing him as I saw - him, that I had lost him—and counting the King of Navarre as gone - already, I felt such a failure of courage as I had never known before. I - told myself with shame that I was not made for Courts, or for such scenes - as these; and recalling with new and keen mortification the poor figure I - had cut in the King of Navarre’s antechamber at St. Jean, I experienced so - strange a gush of pity for my mistress that nothing could exceed the - tenderness I felt for her. I had won her under false colours, I was not - worthy of her. I felt that my mere presence in her company in such a place - as this, and among these people, must cover her with shame and - humiliation. - </p> - <p> - To my great relief, since I knew my face was on fire, neither of the two, - as they walked down the passage, looked my way or seemed conscious of my - neighbourhood. At the door they stood a moment talking earnestly, and it - seemed as if M. de Rosny would have accompanied the Vicomte farther. The - latter would not suffer it, however, but took his leave there; and this - with so many polite gestures that my last hope based on M. de Rosny - vanished. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, that gentleman was not so wholly changed that on his turning - to re-traverse the room I did not see a smile flicker for an instant on - his features as the two lines of bowing courtiers opened before him. The - next moment his look fell on me, and though his face scarcely altered, he - stopped opposite me. - </p> - <p> - ‘M. de Marsac is waiting to see His Majesty?’ he asked aloud, speaking to - M. la Varenne. - </p> - <p> - My companion remaining silent, I bowed. - </p> - <p> - ‘In five minutes,’ M. de Rosny replied quietly, yet with a distant air, - which made me doubt whether I had not dreamed all I remembered of this - man. ‘Ah! M. de Paul, what can I do for you?’ he continued. And he bent - his head to listen to the application which a gentleman who stood next me - poured into his ear. ‘I will see,’ I heard him answer. ‘In any case you - shall know to-morrow.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘But you will be my friend?’ M. Paul urged, detaining him by the sleeve. - </p> - <p> - ‘I will put only one before you,’ he answered. - </p> - <p> - My neighbour seemed to shrink into himself with disappointment. ‘Who is - it?’ he murmured piteously. - </p> - <p> - ‘The king and his service, my friend,’ M. de Rosny replied drily. And with - that he walked away. But half a dozen times at least; before he reached - the upper end of the room I saw the scene repeated. - </p> - <p> - I looked on at all this in the utmost astonishment, unable to guess or - conceive what had happened to give M. de Rosny so much importance. For it - did not escape me that the few words he had stopped to speak to me had - invested me with interest in the eyes of all who stood near. They gave me - more room and a wider breathing-space, and looking at me askance, muttered - my name in whispers. In my uncertainty, however, what this portended I - drew no comfort from it; and before I had found time to weigh it - thoroughly the door through which Turenne and Rosny had entered opened - again. The pages and gentlemen who stood about it hastened to range - themselves on either side. An usher carrying a white wand came rapidly - down the room, here and there requesting the courtiers to stand back where - the passage was narrow. Then a loud voice without cried, ‘The King, - gentlemen! the King!’ and one in every two of us stood a-tiptoe to see him - enter. - </p> - <p> - But there came in only Henry of Navarre, wearing a violet cloak and cap. - </p> - <p> - I turned to La Varenne and with my head full of confusion, muttered - impatiently, ‘But the king, man! Where is the king?’ - </p> - <p> - He grinned at me, with his hand before his mouth. ‘Hush!’ he whispered. - ‘’Twas a jest we played on you! His late Majesty died at daybreak this - morning. This is the king.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘This! the King of Navarre?’ I cried; so loudly that some round us called - ‘Silence!’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, the King of France, fool!’ he replied. ‘Your sword must be sharper - than your wits, or I have been told some lies!’ - </p> - <p> - I let the gibe pass and the jest, for my heart was beating so fast and - painfully that I could scarcely preserve my outward composure. There was a - mist before my eyes, and a darkness which set the lights at defiance. It - was in vain I tried to think what this might mean—to me. I could not - put two thoughts together, and while I still questioned what reception I - might expect, and who in this new state of things were my friends, the - king stopped before me. - </p> - <p> - ‘Ha, M. de Marsac!’ he cried cheerfully, signing to those who stood before - me to give place. ‘You are the gentleman who rode so fast to warn me the - other morning. I have spoken to M. de Turenne about you, and he is willing - to overlook the complaint he had against you. For the rest, go to my - closet, my friend. Go! Rosny knows my will respecting you.’ - </p> - <p> - I had sense enough left to kneel and kiss his hand; but it was in silence, - which he knew how to interpret. He had moved on and was speaking to - another before I recovered the use of my tongue, or the wits which his - gracious words had scattered. When I did so, and got on my feet again I - found myself the centre of so much observation and the object of so many - congratulations that I was glad to act upon the hint which La Varenne gave - me, and hurry away to the closet. - </p> - <p> - Here, though I had now an inkling of what I had to expect, I found myself - received with a kindness which bade fair to overwhelm me. Only M. de Rosny - was in the room, and he took me by both hands in a manner which told me - without a word that the Rosny of old days was back, and that; for the - embarrassment I had caused him of late I was more than forgiven. When I - tried to thank him for the good offices which I knew he had done me with - the king he would have none of it; reminding me with a smile that he had - eaten of my cheese when the choice lay between that and Lisieux. - </p> - <p> - ‘And besides, my friend,’ he continued, his eyes twinkling, ‘You have made - me richer by five hundred crowns.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘How so?’ I asked, wondering more and more. - </p> - <p> - ‘I wagered that sum with Turenne that he could not bribe you,’ he - answered, smiling. ‘And see,’ he continued, selecting from some on the - table the same parchment I had seen before, ‘here is the bribe. Take it; - it is yours. I have given a score to-day, but none with the same pleasure. - Let me be the first to congratulate the Lieutenant-Governor of the - Armagnac.’ - </p> - <p> - For a while I could not believe that he was in earnest; which pleased him - mightily, I remember. When I was brought at last to see that the king had - meant this for me from the first, and had merely lent the patent to - Turenne that the latter might make trial of me, my pleasure and - gratification were such that I could no more express them then than I can - now describe them. For they knew no bounds. I stood before Rosny silent - and confused, with long-forgotten tears welling up to my eyes, and one - regret only in my heart—that my dear mother had not lived to see the - fond illusions with which I had so often amused her turned to sober fact. - Not then, but afterwards, I remarked that the salary of my office amounted - to the exact sum which I had been in the habit of naming to her; and I - learned that Rosny had himself fixed it on information given him by - Mademoiselle de la Vire. - </p> - <p> - As my transports grew more moderate, and I found voice to thank my - benefactor, he had still an answer. ‘Do not deceive yourself, my friend,’ - he said gravely, ‘or think this an idle reward. My master is King of - France, but he is a king without a kingdom, and a captain without money. - To-day, to gain his rights, he has parted with half his powers. Before he - win all back there will be blows—blows, my friend. And to that end I - have bought your sword.’ - </p> - <p> - I told him that if no other left its scabbard for the king, mine should be - drawn. - </p> - <p> - ‘I believe you,’ he answered kindly, laying his hand on my shoulder. ‘Not - by reason of your words—Heaven knows I have heard vows enough - to-day!—but because I have proved you. And now,’ he continued, - speaking in an altered tone and looking at me with a queer smile, ‘now I - suppose you are perfectly satisfied? You have nothing more to wish for, my - friend?’ - </p> - <p> - I looked aside in a guilty fashion, not daring to prefer on the top of all - his kindness a further petition. Moreover, His Majesty might have other - views; or on this point Turenne might have proved obstinate. In a word, - there was nothing in what had happened, or on M. de Rosny’s communication, - to inform me whether the wish of my heart was to be gratified or not. - </p> - <p> - But I should have known that great man better than to suppose that he was - one to promise without performing, or to wound a friend when he could not - salve the hurt. After enjoying my confusion for a time he burst into a - great shout of laughter, and taking me familiarly by the shoulders, turned - me towards the door. ‘There, go!’ he said. ‘Go up the passage. You will - find a door on the right, and a door on the left. You will know which to - open.’ - </p> - <p> - Forbidding me to utter a syllable, he put me out. In the passage, where I - fain would have stood awhile to collect my thoughts, I was affrighted by - sounds which warned me that the king was returning that way. Fearing to be - surprised by him in such a state of perturbation, I hurried to the end of - the passage, where I discovered, as I had been told, two doors. - </p> - <p> - They were both closed, and there was nothing about either of them to - direct my choice. But M. de Rosny was correct in supposing that I had not - forgotten the advice he had offered me on the day when he gave me so fine - a surprise in his own house—‘When you want a good wife, M. de - Marsac, turn to the right!’ I remembered the words, and without a moment’s - hesitation—for the king and his suite were already entering the - passage—I knocked boldly, and scarcely waiting for an invitation, - went in. - </p> - <p> - Fanchette was by the door, but stood aside with a grim smile, which I was - at liberty to accept as a welcome or not. Mademoiselle, who had been - seated on the farther side of the table, rose as I entered, and we stood - looking at one another. Doubtless she waited for me to speak first; while - I on my side was so greatly taken aback by the change wrought in her by - the Court dress she was wearing and the air of dignity with which she wore - it, that I stood gasping. I turned coward after all that had passed - between us. This was not the girl I had wooed in the greenwood by St. - Gaultier; nor the pale-faced woman I had lifted to the saddle a score of - times in the journey Paris-wards. The sense of unworthiness which I had - experienced a few minutes before in the crowded antechamber returned in - full force in presence of her grace and beauty, and once more I stood - tongue-tied before her, as I had stood in the lodgings at Blois. All the - later time, all that had passed between us was forgotten. - </p> - <p> - She, for her part, looked at me wondering at my silence. Her face, which - had grown rosy red at my entrance, turned pale again. Her eyes grew large - with alarm; she began to beat her foot on the floor in a manner I knew. - ‘Is anything the matter, sir?’ she muttered at last. - </p> - <p> - ‘On the contrary, mademoiselle,’ I answered hoarsely, looking every way, - and grasping at the first thing I could think of, ‘I am just from M. de - Rosny.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘And he?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘He has made me Lieutenant-Governor of the Armagnac.’ - </p> - <p> - She curtseyed to me in a wonderful fashion. ‘It pleases me to congratulate - you, sir,’ she said, in a voice between laughing and crying. ‘It is not - more than equal to your deserts.’ - </p> - <p> - I tried to thank her becomingly, feeling at the same time more foolish - than I had ever felt in my life; for I knew that this was neither what I - had come to tell nor she to hear. Yet I could not muster up courage nor - find words to go farther, and stood by the table in a state of miserable - discomposure. - </p> - <p> - ‘Is that all, sir?’ she said at last, losing patience. - </p> - <p> - Certainly it was now or never, and I knew it. I made the effort. ‘No, - mademoiselle,’ I said in a low voice. ‘Far from it. But I do not see here - the lady to whom I came to address myself, and whom I have seen a hundred - times in far other garb than yours, wet and weary and dishevelled, in - danger and in flight. Her I have served and loved; and for her I have - lived. I have had no thought for months that has not been hers, nor care - save for her. I and all that I have by the king’s bounty are hers, and I - came to lay them at her feet. But I do not see her here.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘No, sir?’ she answered in a whisper, with her face averted. - </p> - <p> - ‘No, mademoiselle.’ - </p> - <p> - With a sudden brightness and quickness which set my heart beating she - turned, and looked at me. ‘Indeed!’ she said. ‘I am sorry for that. It is - a pity your love should be given elsewhere, M. de Marsac—since it is - the king’s will that you should marry me.’ - </p> - <p> - ‘Ah, mademoiselle!’ I cried, kneeling before her—for she had come - round the table and stood beside me—‘But you?’ - </p> - <p> - ‘It is my will too, sir,’ she answered, smiling through her tears. - </p> - <p> - * * * - </p> - <p> - On the following day Mademoiselle de la Vire became my wife; the king’s - retreat from Paris, which was rendered necessary by the desertion of many - who were ill-affected to the Huguenots, compelling the instant performance - of the marriage, if we would have it read by M. d’Amours. This haste - notwithstanding, I was enabled by the kindness of M. d’Agen to make such - an appearance, in respect both of servants and equipment, as became rather - my future prospects than my past distresses. It is true that His Majesty, - out of a desire to do nothing which might offend Turenne, did not honour - us with his presence; but Madame Catherine attended on his behalf, and - herself gave me my bride. M. de Sully and M. Crillon, with the Marquis de - Rambouillet and his nephew, and my distant connection, the Duke de Rohan, - who first acknowledged me on that day, were among those who earned my - gratitude by attending me upon the occasion. - </p> - <p> - The marriage of M. Francois d’Agen with the widow of my old rival and - opponent did not take place until something more than a year later, a - delay which was less displeasing to me than to the bridegroom, inasmuch as - it left madame at liberty to bear my wife company during my absence on the - campaign of Arques and Ivry. In the latter battle, which added vastly to - the renown of M. de Rosny, who captured the enemy’s standard with his own - hand, I had the misfortune to be wounded in the second of the two charges - led by the king; and being attacked by two foot soldiers, as I lay - entangled I must inevitably have perished but for the aid afforded me by - Simon Fleix, who flew to the rescue with the courage of a veteran. His - action was observed by the king, who begged him from me, and attaching him - to his own person in the capacity of clerk, started him so fairly on the - road to fortune that he has since risen beyond hope or expectation. - </p> - <p> - The means by which Henry won for a time the support of Turenne (and - incidentally procured his consent to my marriage) are now too notorious to - require explanation. Nevertheless, it was not until the Vicomte’s union a - year later with Mademoiselle de la Marck, who brought him the Duchy of - Bouillon, that I thoroughly understood the matter; or the kindness - peculiar to the king, my master, which impelled that great monarch, in the - arrangement of affairs so vast, to remember the interests of the least of - his servants. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Gentleman of France, by Stanley Weyman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE *** - -***** This file should be named 1939-h.htm or 1939-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/1939/ - -Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: A Gentleman of France - -Author: Stanley Weyman - -Posting Date: October 5, 2008 [EBook #1939] -Release Date: October, 1999 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE *** - - - - -Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer - - - - - -A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE - -BEING THE MEMOIRS OF GASTON DE BONNE SIEUR DE MARSAC - -By Stanley Weyman - - -Transcriber's Note: - -In this Etext, text in italics has been written in capital letters. - -Many French words in the text have accents, etc. which have been -omitted. - - - -CONTENTS. - - CHAPTER I. THE SPORT OF FOOLS - CHAPTER II. THE KING OF NAVARRE - CHAPTER III. BOOT AND SADDLE - CHAPTER IV. MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE - CHAPTER V. THE ROAD TO BLOIS - CHAPTER VI. MY MOTHER'S LODGING - CHAPTER VII. SIMON FLEIX - CHAPTER VIII. AN EMPTY ROOM - CHAPTER IX. THE HOUSE IN THE RUELLE D'ARCY - CHAPTER X. THE FIGHT ON THE STAIRS - CHAPTER XI. THE MAN AT THE DOOR - CHAPTER XII. MAXIMILIAN DE BETHUNE, BARON DE ROSNY - CHAPTER XIII. AT ROSNY - CHAPTER XIV. M. DE RAMBOUILLET - CHAPTER XV. VILAIN HERODES - CHAPTER XVI. IN THE KING'S CHAMBER - CHAPTER XVII. THE JACOBIN MONK - CHAPTER XVIII. THE OFFER OF THE LEAGUE - CHAPTER XIX. MEN CALL IT CHANCE - CHAPTER XX. THE KING'S FACE - CHAPTER XXI. TWO WOMEN - CHAPTER XXII. 'LA FEMME DISPOSE' - CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAST VALOIS - CHAPTER XXIV. A ROYAL PERIL - CHAPTER XXV. TERMS OF SURRENDER - CHAPTER XXVI. MEDITATIONS - CHAPTER XXVII. TO ME, MY FRIENDS! - CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CASTLE ON THE HILL - CHAPTER XXIX. PESTILENCE AND FAMINE - CHAPTER XXX. STRICKEN - CHAPTER XXXI. UNDER THE GREENWOOD - CHAPTER XXXII. A TAVERN BRAWL - CHAPTER XXXIII. AT MEUDON - CHAPTER XXXIV. ''TIS AN ILL WIND' - CHAPTER XXXV. 'LE ROI EST MORT' - CHAPTER XXXVI. 'VIVE LE ROI!' - - - - -A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. THE SPORT OF FOOLS. - -The death of the Prince of Conde, which occurred in the spring of 1588, -by depriving me of my only patron, reduced me to such straits that the -winter of that year, which saw the King of Navarre come to spend his -Christmas at St. Jean d'Angely, saw also the nadir of my fortunes. I did -not know at this time--I may confess it to-day without shame--wither to -turn for a gold crown or a new scabbard, and neither had nor discerned -any hope of employment. The peace lately patched up at Blois between the -King of France and the League persuaded many of the Huguenots that their -final ruin was at hand; but it could not fill their exhausted treasury -or enable them to put fresh troops into the field. - -The death of the Prince had left the King of Navarre without a rival -in the affections of the Huguenots; the Vicomte de Turenne, whose -turbulent; ambition already began to make itself felt, and M. de -Chatillon, ranking next to him. It was my ill-fortune, however, to be -equally unknown to all three leaders, and as the month of December which -saw me thus miserably straitened saw me reach the age of forty, which I -regard, differing in that from many, as the grand climacteric of a -man's life, it will be believed that I had need of all the courage which -religion and a campaigner's life could supply. - -I had been compelled some time before to sell all my horses except the -black Sardinian with the white spot on its forehead; and I now found -myself obliged to part also with my valet de chambre and groom, whom I -dismissed on the same day, paying them their wages with the last links -of gold chain left to me. It was not without grief and dismay that I saw -myself thus stripped of the appurtenances of a man of birth, and driven -to groom my own horse under cover of night. But this was not the worst. -My dress, which suffered inevitably from this menial employment, began -in no long time to bear witness to the change in my circumstances; so -that on the day of the King of Navarre's entrance into St. Jean I dared -not face the crowd, always quick to remark the poverty of those above -them, but was fain to keep within doors and wear out my patience in the -garret of the cutler's house in the Rue de la Coutellerie, which was all -the lodging I could now afford. - -Pardieu, 'tis a strange world! Strange that time seems to me; more -strange compared with this. My reflections on that day, I remember, were -of the most melancholy. Look at it how I would, I could not but see that -my life's spring was over. The crows' feet were gathering about my eyes, -and my moustachios, which seemed with each day of ill-fortune to stand -out more fiercely in proportion as my face grew leaner, were already -grey. I was out at elbows, with empty pockets, and a sword which peered -through the sheath. The meanest ruffler who, with broken feather and -tarnished lace, swaggered at the heels of Turenne, was scarcely to be -distinguished from me. I had still, it is true, a rock and a few barren -acres in Brittany, the last remains of the family property; but the -small small sums which the peasants could afford to pay were sent -annually to Paris, to my mother, who had no other dower. And this I -would not touch, being minded to die a gentleman, even if I could not -live in that estate. - -Small as were my expectations of success, since I had no one at the -king's side to push my business, nor any friend at Court, I nevertheless -did all I could, in the only way that occurred to me. I drew up a -petition, and lying in wait one day for M. Forget, the King of Navarre's -secretary, placed it in his hand, begging him to lay it before that -prince. He took it, and promised to do so, smoothly, and with as much -lip-civility as I had a right to expect. But the careless manner in -which he doubled up and thrust away the paper on which I had spent so -much labour, no less than the covert sneer of his valet, who ran after -me to get the customary present--and ran, as I still blush to remember, -in vain--warned me to refrain from hope. - -In this, however, having little save hope left, I failed so signally -as to spend the next day and the day after in a fever of alternate -confidence and despair, the cold fit following the hot with perfect -regularity. At length, on the morning of the third day--I remember it -lacked but three of Christmas--I heard a step on the stairs. My landlord -living in his shop, and the two intervening floors being empty, I had no -doubt the message was for me, and went outside the door to receive it, -my first glance at the messenger confirming me in my highest hopes, -as well as in all I had ever heard of the generosity of the King of -Navarre. For by chance I knew the youth to be one of the royal pages; a -saucy fellow who had a day or two before cried 'Old Clothes' after me in -the street. I was very far from resenting this now, however, nor did -he appear to recall it; so that I drew the happiest augury as to the -contents of the note he bore from the politeness with which he presented -it to me. - -I would not, however, run the risk of a mistake, and before holding out -my hand, I asked him directly and with formality if it was for me. - -He answered, with the utmost respect, that it was for the Sieur de -Marsac, and for me if I were he. - -'There is an answer, perhaps?' I said, seeing that he lingered. - -'The King of Navarre, sir,' he replied, with a low bow, 'will receive -your answer in person, I believe.' And with that, replacing the hat -which he had doffed out of respect to me, he turned and went down the -stairs. - -Returning to my room, and locking the door, I hastily opened the -missive, which was sealed with a large seal, and wore every appearance -of importance. I found its contents to exceed all my expectations. The -King of Navarre desired me to wait on him at noon on the following day, -and the letter concluded with such expressions of kindness and goodwill -as left me in no doubt of the Prince's intentions. I read it, I confess, -with emotions of joy and gratitude which would better have become a -younger man, and then cheerfully sat down to spend the rest of the -day in making such improvements in my dress as seemed possible. With a -thankful heart I concluded that I had now escaped from poverty, at any -rate from such poverty as is disgraceful to a gentleman; and consoled -myself for the meanness of the appearance I must make at Court with the -reflection that a day or two would mend both habit and fortune. - -Accordingly, it was with a stout heart that I left my lodgings a few -minutes before noon next morning, and walked towards the castle. It was -some time since I had made so public an appearance in the streets, which -the visit of the King of Navarre's Court; had filled with an unusual -crowd, and I could not help fancying as I passed that some of the -loiterers eyed me with a covert smile; and, indeed, I was shabby enough. -But finding that a frown more than sufficed to restore the gravity of -these gentry, I set down the appearance to my own self-consciousness, -and, stroking my moustachios, strode along boldly until I saw before me, -and coming to meet me, the same page who had delivered the note. - -He stopped in front of me with an air of consequence, and making me a -low bow--whereat I saw the bystanders stare, for he was as gay a young -spark as maid-of-honour could desire--he begged me to hasten, as the -king awaited me in his closet. - -'He has asked for you twice, sir,' he continued importantly, the feather -of his cap almost sweeping the ground. - -'I think,' I answered, quickening my steps, 'that the king's letter says -noon, young sir. If I am late on such an occasion, he has indeed cause -to complain of me.' - -'Tut, tut!' he rejoined waving his hand with a dandified 'It is no -matter. One man may steal a horse when another may not look over the -wall, you know.' - -A man may be gray-haired, he may be sad-complexioned, and yet he may -retain some of the freshness of youth. On receiving this indication of a -favour exceeding all expectation, I remember I felt the blood rise to -my face, and experienced the most lively gratitude. I wondered who had -spoken in my behalf, who had befriended me; and concluding at last that -my part in the affair at Brouage had come to the king's ears, though I -could not conceive through whom, I passed through the castle gates with -an air of confidence and elation which was not unnatural, I think, under -the circumstances. Thence, following my guide, I mounted the ramp and -entered the courtyard. - -A number of grooms and valets were lounging here, some leading horses -to and fro, others exchanging jokes with the wenches who leaned from -the windows, while their fellows again stamped up and down to keep -their feet warm, or played ball against the wall in imitation of their -masters. Such knaves are ever more insolent than their betters; but -I remarked that they made way for me with respect, and with rising -spirits, yet a little irony, I reminded myself as I mounted the stairs -of the words, 'whom the king delighteth to honour!' - -Reaching the head of the flight, where was a soldier on guard, the page -opened the door of the antechamber, and standing aside bade me enter. I -did so, and heard the door close behind me. - -For a moment I stood still, bashful and confused. It seemed to me that -there were a hundred people in the room, and that half the eyes which -met mine were women's, Though I was not altogether a stranger to such -state as the Prince of Conde had maintained, this crowded anteroom -filled me with surprise, and even with a degree of awe, of which I was -the next moment ashamed. True, the flutter of silk and gleam of jewels -surpassed anything I had then seen, for my fortunes had never led me -to the king's Court; but an instant's reflection reminded me that my -fathers had held their own in such scenes, and with a bow regulated -rather by this thought than by the shabbiness of my dress, I advanced -amid a sudden silence. - -'M. de Marsac!' the page announced, in a tone which sounded a little -odd in my ears; so much so, that I turned quickly to look at him. He was -gone, however, and when I turned again the eyes which met mine were -full of smiles. A young girl who stood near me tittered. Put out of -countenance by this, I looked round in embarrassment to find someone to -whom I might apply. - -The room was long and narrow, panelled in chestnut, with a row of -windows on the one hand, and two fireplaces, now heaped with glowing -logs, on the other. Between the fireplaces stood a rack of arms. Round -the nearer hearth lounged a group of pages, the exact counterparts of -the young blade who had brought me hither; and talking with these were -as many young gentlewomen. Two great hounds lay basking in the heat, -and coiled between them, with her head on the back of the larger, was a -figure so strange that at another time I should have doubted my eyes. It -wore the fool's motley and cap and bells, but a second glance showed me -the features were a woman's. A torrent of black hair flowed loose about -her neck, her eyes shone with wild merriment, and her face, keen, thin, -and hectic, glared at me from the dog's back. Beyond her, round the -farther fireplace, clustered more than a score of gallants and ladies, -of whom one presently advanced to me. - -'Sir,' he said politely--and I wished I could match his bow--'you wished -to see--?' - -'The King of Navarre,' I answered, doing my best. - -He turned to the group behind him, and said, in a peculiarly even, -placid tone, 'He wishes to see the King of Navarre.' Then in solemn -silence he bowed to me again and went back to his fellows. - -Upon the instant, and before I could make up my mind how to take this, a -second tripped forward, and saluting me, said, 'M. de Marsac, I think?' - -'At your service, sir,' I rejoined. In my eagerness to escape the gaze -of all those eyes, and the tittering which was audible behind me, I took -a step forward to be in readiness to follow him. But he gave no sign. -'M. de Marsac to see the King of Navarre' was all he said, speaking as -the other had close to those behind. And with that he too wheeled round -and went back to the fire. - -I stared, a first faint suspicion of the truth aroused in my mind. -Before I could act upon it, however--in such a situation it was no -easy task to decide how to act--a third advanced with the same measured -steps. 'By appointment I think, sir?' he said, bowing lower than the -others. - -'Yes,' I replied sharply, beginning to grow warm, 'by appointment at -noon.' - -'M. de Marsac,' he announced in a sing-song tone to those behind him, -'to see the King of Navarre by appointment at noon.' And with a second -bow--while I grew scarlet with mortification he too wheeled gravely -round and returned to the fireplace. - -I saw another preparing to advance, but he came too late. Whether my -face of anger and bewilderment was too much for them, or some among -them lacked patience to see the end, a sudden uncontrollable shout of -laughter, in which all the room joined, cut short the farce. God knows -it hurt me: I winced, I looked this way and that, hoping here or there -to find sympathy and help. But it seemed to me that the place rang -with gibes, that every panel framed, however I turned myself, a cruel, -sneering face. One behind me cried 'Old Clothes,' and when I turned -the other hearth whispered the taunt. It added a thousandfold to my -embarrassment that there was in all a certain orderliness, so that while -no one moved, and none, while I looked at them, raised their voices, I -seemed the more singled out, and placed as a butt in the midst. - -One face amid the pyramid of countenances which hid the farther -fireplace so burned itself into my recollection in that miserable -moment, that I never thereafter forgot it; a small, delicate woman's -face, belonging to a young girl who stood boldly in front of her -companions. It was a face full of pride, and, as I saw it then, of -scorn--scorn that scarcely deigned to laugh; while the girl's graceful -figure, slight and maidenly, yet perfectly proportioned, seemed instinct -with the same feeling of contemptuous amusement. - -The play, which seemed long enough to me, might have lasted longer, -seeing that no one there had pity on me, had I not, in my desperation, -espied a door at the farther end of the room, and concluded, seeing no -other, that it was the door of the king's bedchamber. The mortification -I was suffering was so great that I did not hesitate, but advanced with -boldness towards it. On the instant there was a lull in the laughter -round me, and half a dozen voices called on me to stop. - -'I have come to see the king,' I answered, turning on them fiercely, for -I was by this time in no mood for browbeating, 'and I will see him!' - -'He is out hunting,' cried all with one accord; and they signed -imperiously to me to go back the way I had come. - -But having the king's appointment safe in my pouch, I thought I had good -reason to disbelieve them; and taking advantage of their surprise--for -they had not expected so bold a step on my part--I was at the door -before they could prevent me. I heard Mathurine, the fool, who had -sprung to her feet, cry 'Pardieu! he will take the Kingdom of Heaven -by force!' and those were the last words I heard; for, as I lifted the -latch--there was no one on guard there--a sudden swift silence fell upon -the room behind me. - -I pushed the door gently open and went in. There were two men sitting -in one of the windows, who turned and looked angrily towards me. For the -rest the room was empty. The king's walking-shoes lay by his chair, and -beside them the boot-hooks and jack. A dog before the fire got up slowly -and growled, and one of the men, rising from the trunk on which he -had been sitting, came towards me and asked me, with every sign of -irritation, what I wanted there, and who had given me leave to enter. - -I was beginning to explain, with some diffidence the stillness of -the room sobering me--that I wished to see the king, when he who had -advanced took me up sharply with, 'The king? the king? He is not here, -man. He is hunting at St. Valery. Did they not tell you so outside?' - -I thought I recognised the speaker, than whom I have seldom seen a man -more grave and thoughtful for his years, which were something less than -mine, more striking in presence, or more soberly dressed. And being -desirous to evade his question, I asked him if I had not the honour to -address M. du Plessis Mornay; for that wise and courtly statesman, now a -pillar of Henry's counsels, it was. - -'The same, sir,' he replied, abruptly, and without taking his eyes from -me. 'I am Mornay. What of that?' - -'I am M. de Marsac,' I explained. And there I stopped, supposing that, -as he was in the king's confidence, this would make my errand clear to -him. - -But I was disappointed. 'Well, sir?' he said, and waited impatiently. - -So cold a reception, following such treatment as I had suffered outside, -would have sufficed to have dashed my spirits utterly had I not felt -the king's letter in my pocket. Being pretty confident, however, that a -single glance at this would alter M. du Mornay's bearing for the better, -I hastened, looking on it as a kind of talisman, to draw it out and -present it to him. - -He took it, and looked at it, and opened it, but with so cold and -immovable an aspect as made my heart sink more than all that had gone -before. 'What is amiss?' I cried, unable to keep silence. ''Tis from the -king, sir.' - -'A king in motley!' he answered, his lip curling. - -The sense of his words did not at once strike home to me, and I -murmured, in great disorder, that the king had sent for me. - -'The king knows nothing of it,' was his blunt answer, bluntly given. And -he thrust the paper back into my hands. 'It is a trick,' he continued, -speaking with the same abruptness, 'for which you have doubtless -to thank some of those idle young rascals without. You had sent an -application to the king, I suppose? Just so. No doubt they got hold of -it, and this is the result. They ought to be whipped.' - -It was not possible for me to doubt any longer that what he said was -true. I saw in a moment all my hopes vanish, all my plans flung to the -winds; and in the first shock of the discovery I could neither find -voice to answer him nor strength to withdraw. In a kind of vision I -seemed to see my own lean, haggard face looking at me as in a glass, -and, reading despair in my eyes, could have pitied myself. - -My disorder was so great that M. du Mornay observed it. Looking more -closely at me, he two or three times muttered my name, and at last said, -'M. de Marsac? Ha! I remember. You were in the affair of Brouage, were -you not?' - -I nodded my head in token of assent, being unable at the moment to -speak, and so shaken that perforce I leaned against the wall, my head -sunk on my breast. The memory of my age, my forty years, and my poverty, -pressed hard upon me, filling me with despair and bitterness. I could -have wept, but no tears came. - -M. du Mornay, averting his eyes from me, took two or three short, -impatient turns up and down the chamber when he addressed me again his -tone was full of respect, mingled with such petulance as one brave man -might feel, seeing another so hard pressed. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, -'you have my sympathy. It is a shame that men who have served the -cause should be reduced to such straits. Were it, possible for me, to -increase my own train at present, I should consider it an honour to have -you with me. But I am hard put to it myself, and so are we all, and the -King of Navarre not least among us. He has lived for a month upon a wood -which M. de Rosny has cut down. I will mention your name to him, but I -should be cruel rather than kind were I not to warn you that nothing can -come of it.' - -With that he offered me his hand, and, cheered as much by this mark -of consideration as by the kindness of his expressions, I rallied my -spirits. True, I wanted comfort more substantial, but it was not to be -had. I thanked him therefore as becomingly as I could, and seeing there -was no help for it, took my leave of him, and slowly and sorrowfully -withdrew from the room. - -Alas! to escape I had to face the outside world, for which his kind -words were an ill preparation. I had to run the gauntlet of the -antechamber. The moment I appeared, or rather the moment the door closed -behind me, I was hailed with a shout of derision. While one cried, -'Way! way for the gentleman who has seen the king!' another hailed me -uproariously as Governor of Guyenne, and a third requested a commission -in my regiment. - -I heard these taunts with a heart full almost to bursting. It seemed to -me an unworthy thing that, merely by reason of my poverty, I should be -derided by youths who had still all their battles before them; but to -stop or reproach them would only, as I well knew, make matters worse, -and, moreover, I was so sore stricken that I had little spirit left -even to speak. Accordingly, I made my way through them with what speed I -might, my head bent, and my countenance heavy with shame and depression. -In this way--I wonder there were not among them some generous enough -to pity me--I had nearly gained the door, and was beginning to breathe, -when I found my path stopped by that particular young lady of the Court -whom I have described above. Something had for the moment diverted her -attention from me, and it required a word from her companions to apprise -her of my near neighbourhood. She turned then, as one taken by surprise, -and finding me so close to her that my feet all but touched her gown, -she stepped quickly aside, and with a glance as cruel as her act, drew -her skirts away from contact with me. - -The insult stung me, I know not why, more than all the gibes which -were being flung at me from every side, and moved by a sudden impulse I -stopped, and in the bitterness of my heart spoke to her. 'Mademoiselle,' -I said, bowing low--for, as I have stated, she was small, and more -like a fairy than a woman, though her face expressed both pride and -self-will--'Mademoiselle,' I said sternly, 'such as I am, I have fought -for France! Some day you may learn that there are viler things in the -world--and have to bear them--than a poor gentleman!' - -The words were scarcely out of my mouth before I repented of them, for -Mathurine, the fool, who was at my elbow, was quick to turn them into -ridicule. Raising her hands above our heads, as in act to bless us, -she cried out that Monsieur, having gained so rich an office, desired -a bride to grace it; and this, bringing down upon us a coarse shout -of laughter and some coarser gibes, I saw the young girl's face flush -hotly. - -The next moment a voice in the crowd cried roughly 'Out upon his wedding -suit!' and with that a sweetmeat struck me in the face. Another and -another followed, covering me with flour and comfits. This was the last -straw. For a moment, forgetting where I was, I turned upon them, red -and furious, every hair in my moustachios bristling. The next, the full -sense of my impotence and of the folly of resentment prevailed with me, -and, dropping my head upon my breast, I rushed from the room. - -I believe that the younger among them followed me, and that the cry of -'Old Clothes!' pursued me even to the door of my lodgings in the Rue de -la Coutellerie. But in the misery of the moment, and my strong desire -to be within doors and alone, I barely noticed this, and am not certain -whether it was so or not. - - - -CHAPTER II. THE KING OF NAVARRE. - -I have already referred to the danger with which the alliance between -Henry the Third and the League menaced us, an alliance whereof the news, -it was said, had blanched the King of Navarre's moustache in a single -night. Notwithstanding this, the Court had never shown itself more -frolicsome or more free from care than at the time of which I am -speaking; even the lack of money seemed for the moment forgotten. One -amusement followed another, and though, without doubt, something was -doing under the surface for the wiser of his foes held our prince in -particular dread when he seemed most deeply sunk in pleasure--to the -outward eye St. Jean d'Angely appeared to be given over to enjoyment -from one end to the other. - -The stir and bustle of the Court reached me even in my garret, and -contributed to make that Christmas, which fell on a Sunday, a trial -almost beyond sufferance. All day long the rattle of hoofs on the -pavement, and the laughter of riders bent on diversion, came up to -me, making the hard stool seem harder, the bare walls more bare, and -increasing a hundredfold the solitary gloom in which I sat. For as -sunshine deepens the shadows which fall athwart it, and no silence is -like that which follows the explosion of a mine, so sadness and poverty -are never more intolerable than when hope and wealth rub elbows with -them. - -True, the great sermon which M. d'Amours preached in the market-house -on the morning of Christmas-day cheered me, as it cheered all the more -sober spirits. I was present myself, sitting in an obscure corner of -the building, and heard the famous prediction, which was so soon to be -fulfilled. 'Sire,' said the preacher, turning to the King of Navarre, -and referring, with the boldness that ever characterised that great -man and noble Christian, to the attempt, then being made to exclude the -prince from the succession--'Sire, what God at your birth gave you man -cannot take away. A little while, a little patience, and you shall cause -us to preach beyond the Loire! With you for our Joshua we shall cross -the Jordan, and in the Promised Land the Church shall be set up.' - -Words so brave, and so well adapted to encourage the Huguenots in -the crisis through which their affairs were then passing, charmed all -hearers; save indeed, those--and they were few--who, being devoted to -the Vicomte de Turenne, disliked, though they could not controvert, this -public acknowledgment of the King of Navarre, as the Huguenot leader. -The pleasure of those present was evinced in a hundred ways, and to such -an extent that even I returned to my chamber soothed and exalted, and -found, in dreaming of the speedy triumph of the cause, some compensation -for my own ill-fortune. - -As the day wore on, however, and the evening brought no change, but -presented to me the same dreary prospect with which morning had made -me familiar, I confess without shame that my heart sank once more, -particularly as I saw that I should be forced in a day or two to sell -either my remaining horse or some part of my equipment as essential; -a step which I could not contemplate without feelings of the utmost -despair. In this state of mind I was adding up by the light of a -solitary candle the few coins I had left, when I heard footsteps -ascending the stairs. I made them out to be the steps of two persons, -and was still lost in conjectures who they might be, when a hand knocked -gently at my door. - -Fearing another trick, I did not at once open, the more so there was -something stealthy and insinuating in the knock. Thereupon my visitors -held a whispered consultation; then they knocked again. I asked loudly -who was there, but to this they did not choose to give any answer, -while I, on my part, determined not to open until they did. The door -was strong, and I smiled grimly at the thought that this time they would -have their trouble for their pains. - -To my surprise, however, they did not desist, and go away, as I -expected, but continued to knock at intervals and whisper much between -times. More than once they called me softly by name and bade me open, -but as they steadily refrained from saying who they were, I sat still. -Occasionally I heard them laugh, but under their breath as it were; -and persuaded by this that they were bent on a frolic, I might have -persisted in my silence until midnight, which was not more than two -hours off, had not a slight sound, as of a rat gnawing behind the -wainscot, drawn my attention to the door. Raising my candle and shading -my eyes I espied something small and bright protruding beneath it, and -sprang up, thinking they were about to prise it in. To my surprise, -however, I could discover, on taking the candle to the threshold, -nothing more threatening than a couple of gold livres, which had been -thrust through the crevice between the door and the floor. - -My astonishment may be conceived. I stood for full a minute staring at -the coins, the candle in my hand. Then, reflecting that the young sparks -at the Court would be very unlikely to spend such a sum on a jest, I -hesitated no longer, but putting down the candle, drew the bolt of the -door, purposing to confer with my visitors outside. In this, however, I -was disappointed, for the moment the door was open they pushed forcibly -past me and, entering the room pell-mell, bade me by signs to close the -door again. - -I did so suspiciously, and without averting my eyes from my visitors. -Great were my embarrassment and confusion, therefore, when, the door -being shut, they dropped their cloaks one after the other, and I saw -before me M. du Mornay and the well-known figure of the King of Navarre. - -They seemed so much diverted, looking at one another and laughing, that -for a moment I thought some chance resemblance deceived me, and that -here were my jokers again. Hence while a man might count ten I stood -staring; and the king was the first to speak. 'We have made no mistake, -Du Mornay, have we?' he said, casting a laughing glance at me. - -'No, sire,' Du Mornay answered. 'This is the Sieur de Marsac, the -gentleman whom I mentioned to you.' - -I hastened, confused, wondering, and with a hundred apologies, to pay my -respects to the king. He speedily cut me short, however, saying, with an -air of much kindness, 'Of Marsac, in Brittany, I think, sir?' - -'The same, sire,' - -'Then you are of the family of Bonne?' - -'I am the last survivor of that family, sire,' I answered respectfully. - -'It has played its part,' he rejoined, and therewith he took his seat -on my stool with an easy grace which charmed me. 'Your motto is "BONNE -FOI," is it not? And Marsac, if I remember rightly, is not far from -Rennes, on the Vilaine?' - -I answered that it was, adding, with a full heart, that it grieved me to -be compelled to receive so great a prince in so poor a lodging. - -'Well, I confess,' Du Mornay struck in, looking carelessly round him, -'you have a queer taste, M. de Marsac, in the arrangement of your -furniture. You--' - -'Mornay!' the king cried sharply. - -'Sire?' - -'Chut! your elbow is in the candle. Beware of it!' - -But I well understood him. If my heart had been full before, it -overflowed now. Poverty is not so shameful as the shifts to which it -drives men. I had been compelled some days before, in order to make as -good a show as possible--since it is the undoubted duty of a gentleman -to hide his nakedness from impertinent eyes, and especially from the -eyes of the canaille, who are wont to judge from externals--to remove -such of my furniture and equipage as remained to that side of the room, -which was visible from without when the door was open. This left the -farther side of the room vacant and bare. To anyone within doors the -artifice was, of course, apparent, and I am bound to say that M. de -Mornay's words brought the blood to my brow. - -I rejoiced, however a moment later that he had uttered them; for without -them I might never have known, or known so early, the kindness of heart -and singular quickness of apprehension which ever distinguished the -king, my master. So, in my heart, I began to call him from that hour. - -The King of Navarre was at this time thirty-five years old, his hair -brown, his complexion ruddy, his moustache, on one side at least, -beginning to turn grey. His features, which Nature had cast in a harsh -and imperious mould, were relieved by a constant sparkle and animation -such as I have never seen in any other man, but in him became ever more -conspicuous in gloomy and perilous times. Inured to danger from his -earliest youth, he had come to enjoy it as others a festival, hailing -its advent with a reckless gaiety which astonished even brave men, and -led others to think him the least prudent of mankind. Yet such he was -not: nay, he was the opposite of this. Never did Marshal of France -make more careful dispositions for a battle--albeit once in it he bore -himself like any captain of horse--nor ever did Du Mornay himself sit -down to a conference with a more accurate knowledge of affairs. His -prodigious wit and the affability of his manners, while they endeared -him to his servants, again and again blinded his adversaries; who, -thinking that so much brilliance could arise only from a shallow nature, -found when it was too late that they had been outwitted by him whom -they contemptuously styled the Prince of Bearn, a man a hundredfold more -astute than themselves, and master alike of pen and sword. - -Much of this, which all the world now knows, I learned afterwards. At -the moment I could think of little save the king's kindness; to which -he added by insisting that I should sit on the bed while we talked. 'You -wonder, M. de Marsac,' he said, 'what brings me here, and why I have -come to you instead of sending for you? Still more, perhaps, why I have -come to you at night and with such precautions? I will tell you. But -first, that my coming may not fill you with false hopes, let me say -frankly, that though I may relieve your present necessities, whether you -fall into the plan I am going to mention, or not, I cannot take you -into my service; wherein, indeed, every post is doubly filled. Du Mornay -mentioned your name to me, but in fairness to others I had to answer -that I could do nothing.' - -I am bound to confess that this strange exordium dashed hopes which had -already risen to a high pitch. Recovering myself as quickly as possible, -however, I murmured that the honour of a visit from the King of Navarre -was sufficient happiness for me. - -'Nay, but that honour I must take from you' he replied, smiling; 'though -I see that you would make an excellent courtier--far better than Du -Mornay here, who never in his life made so pretty a speech. For I must -lay my commands on you to keep this visit a secret, M. de Marsac. Should -but the slightest whisper of it get abroad, your usefulness, as far as I -am concerned, would be gone, and gone for good!' - -So remarkable a statement filled me with wonder I could scarcely -disguise. It was with difficulty I found words to assure the king that -his commands should be faithfully obeyed. - -'Of that I am sure,' he answered with the utmost kindness. 'Where I not, -and sure, too, from what I am told of your gallantry when my cousin took -Brouage, that you are a man of deeds rather than words, I should not be -here with the proposition I am going to lay before you. It is this. I -can give you no hope of public employment, M. de Marsac, but I can offer -you an adventure if adventures be to your taste--as dangerous and as -thankless as any Amadis ever undertook.' - -'As thankless, sire?' I stammered, doubting if I had heard aright, the -expression was so strange. - -'As thankless,' he answered, his keen eyes seeming to read my soul. -'I am frank with you, you see, sir,' he continued, carelessly. 'I can -suggest this adventure--it is for the good of the State--I can do no -more. The King of Navarre cannot appear in it, nor can he protect you. -Succeed or fail in it, you stead alone. The only promise I make is, -that if it ever be safe for me to acknowledge the act, I will reward the -doer.' - -He paused, and for a few moments I stared at him in sheer amazement. -What did he mean? Were he and the other real figures, or was I dreaming? - -'Do you understand?' he asked at length, with a touch of impatience. - -'Yes, sire, I think I do,' I murmured, very certain in truth and reality -that I did not. - -'What do you say, then--yes or no?' he rejoined. 'Will you undertake the -adventure, or would you hear more before you make up your mind?' - -I hesitated. Had I been a younger man by ten years I should doubtless -have cried assent there and then, having been all my life ready enough -to embark on such enterprises as offered a chance of distinction. But -something in the strangeness of the king's preface, although I had it in -my heart to die for him, gave me check, and I answered, with an air of -great humility, 'You will think me but a poor courtier now, sire, yet -he is a fool who jumps into a ditch without measuring the depth. I would -fain, if I may say it without disrespect, hear all that you can tell -me.' - -'Then I fear,' he answered quickly, 'if you would have more light on the -matter, my friend, you must get another candle.' - -I started, he spoke so abruptly; but perceiving that the candle had -indeed burned down to the socket, I rose, with many apologies, and -fetched another from the cupboard. It did not occur to me at the moment, -though it did later, that the king had purposely sought this opportunity -of consulting with his companion. I merely remarked, when I returned to -my place on the bed, that they were sitting a little nearer one another, -and that the king eyed me before he spoke--though he still swung one -foot carelessly in the air with close attention. - -'I speak to you, of course, sir,' he presently went on, 'in confidence, -believing you to be an honourable as well as a brave man. That which I -wish you to do is briefly, and in a word, to carry off a lady. Nay,' -he added quickly, with a laughing grimace, 'have no fear! She is no -sweetheart of mine, nor should I go to my grave friend here did I need -assistance of that kind. Henry of Bourbon, I pray God, will always be -able to free his own lady-love. This is a State affair, and a matter of -quite another character, though we cannot at present entrust you with -the meaning of it.' - -I bowed in silence, feeling somewhat chilled and perplexed, as who would -not, having such an invitation before him? I had anticipated an affair -with men only--a secret assault or a petard expedition. But seeing the -bareness of my room, and the honour the king was doing me, I felt I had -no choice, and I answered, 'That being the case, sire, I am wholly at -your service.' - -'That is well,' he, answered briskly, though methought he looked at Du -Mornay reproachfully, as doubting his commendation of me. 'But will -you say the same,' he continued, removing his eyes to me, and speaking -slowly, as though he would try me, 'when I tell you that the lady to -be carried off is the ward of the Vicomte de Turenne, whose arm is -well-nigh as long as my own, and who would fain make it longer; who -never travels, as he told me yesterday, with less than fifty gentlemen, -and has a thousand arquebusiers in his pay? Is the adventure still to -your liking, M. de Marsac, now that you know that?' - -'It is more to my liking, sire,' I answered stoutly. - -'Understand this too,' he rejoined. 'It is essential that this lady, -who is at present confined in the Vicomte's house at Chize, should be -released; but it is equally essential that there should be no breach -between the Vicomte and myself. Therefore the affair must be the work -of an independent man, who has never been in my service, nor in any way -connected with me. If captured, you pay the penalty without recourse to -me.' - -'I fully understand, sire,' I answered. - -'Ventre Saint Gris!' he cried, breaking into a low laugh. I swear the -man is more afraid of the lady than he is of the Vicomte! That is not -the way of most of our Court.' - -Du Mornay, who had been sitting nursing his knee in silence, pursed up -his lips, though it was easy to see that he was well content with the -king's approbation. He now intervened. 'With your permission, sire,' he -said, 'I will let this gentleman know the details.' - -'Do, my friend,' the king answered. 'And be short, for if we are here -much longer I shall be missed, and in a twinkling the Court will have -found me a new mistress.' - -He spoke in jest and with a laugh, but I saw Du Mornay start at -the words, as though they were little to his liking; and I learned -afterwards that the Court was really much exercised at this time with -the question who would be the next favourite, the king's passion for -the Countess de la Guiche being evidently on the wane, and that which -he presently evinced for Madame de Guercheville being as yet a matter of -conjecture. - -Du Mornay took no overt notice of the king's words, however, but -proceeded to give me my directions. 'Chize, which you know by name,' he -said, 'is six leagues from here. Mademoiselle de la Vire is confined in -the north-west room, on the first-floor, overlooking the park. More I -cannot tell you, except that her woman's name is Fanchette, and that she -is to be trusted. The house is well guarded, and you will need four or -five men, There are plenty of cut-throats to be hired, only see, M. -de Marsac, that they are such as you can manage, and that Mademoiselle -takes no hurt among them. Have horses in waiting, and the moment; you -have released the lady ride north with her as fast as her strength will -permit. Indeed, you must not spare her, if Turenne be on your heels. You -should be across the Loire in sixty hours after leaving Chize.' - -'Across the Loire?' I exclaimed in astonishment. - -'Yes, sir, across the Loire,' he replied, with some sternness. 'Your -task, be good enough to understand, is to convoy Mademoiselle de la Vire -with all speed to Blois. There, attracting as little notice as may be, -you will inquire for the Baron de Rosny at the Bleeding Heart, in the -Rue de St. Denys. He will take charge of the lady, or direct you how to -dispose of her, and your task will then be accomplished. You follow me?' - -'Perfectly,' I answered, speaking in my turn with some dryness. 'But -Mademoiselle I understand is young. What if she will not accompany me, a -stranger, entering her room at night, and by the window?' - -'That has been thought of' was the answer. He turned to the King of -Navarre, who, after a moment's search, produced a small object from his -pouch. This he gave to his companion, and the latter transferred it to -me. I took it with curiosity. It was the half of a gold carolus, -the broken edge of the coin being rough and jagged. 'Show that to -Mademoiselle, my friend,' Du Mornay continued, 'and she will accompany -you. She has the other half.' - -'But be careful,' Henry added eagerly, 'to make no mention, even to her, -of the King of Navarre. You mark me, M. de Marsac! If you have at any -time occasion to speak of me, you may have the honour of calling me YOUR -FRIEND, and referring to me always in the same manner.' - -This he said with so gracious an air that I was charmed, and thought -myself happy indeed to be addressed in this wise by a prince whose name -was already so glorious. Nor was my satisfaction diminished when his -companion drew out a bag containing, as he told me, three hundred crowns -in gold, and placed it in my hands, bidding me defray therefrom the cost -of the journey. 'Be careful, however,' he added earnestly, 'to avoid, in -hiring your men, any appearance of wealth, lest the adventure seem to -be suggested by some outside person; instead of being dictated by the -desperate state of your own fortunes. Promise rather than give, so far -as that will avail. And for what you must give, let each livre seem to -be the last in your pouch.' - -Henry nodded assent. 'Excellent advice!' he muttered, rising and -drawing on his cloak, 'such as you ever give me, Mornay, and I as seldom -take--more's the pity! But, after all, of little avail without this.' He -lifted my sword from the table as he spoke, and weighed it in his hand. -'A pretty tool,' he continued, turning suddenly and looking me very -closely in the face. 'A very pretty tool. Were I in your place, M. de -Marsac, I would see that it hung loose in the scabbard. Ay, and more, -man, use it!' he added, sinking his voice and sticking out his chin, -while his grey eyes, looking ever closer into mine, seemed to grow cold -and hard as steel. 'Use it to the last, for if you fall into Turenne's -hands, God help you! I cannot!' - -'If I am taken, sire,' I answered, trembling, but not with fear, 'my -fate be on my own head.' - -I saw the king's eyes soften, at that, and his face change so swiftly -that I scarce knew him for the same man. He let the weapon drop with -a clash on the table. 'Ventre Saint Gris!' he exclaimed with a strange -thrill of yearning in his tone. 'I swear by God, I would I were in your -shoes, sir. To strike a blow or two with no care what came of it. To -take the road with a good horse and a good sword, and see what fortune -would send. To be rid of all this statecraft and protocolling, and never -to issue another declaration in this world, but just to be for once a -Gentleman of France, with all to win and nothing to lose save the love -of my lady! Ah! Mornay, would it not be sweet to leave all this fret and -fume, and ride away to the green woods by Coarraze?' - -'Certainly, if you prefer them to the Louvre, sire,' Du Mornay answered -drily; while I stood, silent and amazed, before this strange man, who -could so suddenly change from grave to gay, and one moment spoke so -sagely, and the next like any wild lad in his teens. 'Certainly,' he -answered, 'if that be your choice, sire; and if you think that even -there the Duke of Guise will leave you in peace. Turenne, I am sure, -will be glad to hear of your decision. Doubtless he will be elected -Protector of the Churches. Nay, sire, for shame!' Du Mornay continued -almost with sternness. 'Would you leave France, which at odd times I -have heard you say you loved, to shift for herself? Would you deprive -her of the only man who does love her for her own sake?' - -'Well, well, but she is such a fickle sweetheart, my friend,' the king -answered, laughing, the side glance of his eye on me. 'Never was one so -coy or so hard to clip! And, besides, has not the Pope divorced us?' - -'The Pope! A fig for the Pope!' Du Mornay rejoined with impatient heat. -'What has he to do with France? An impertinent meddler, and an Italian -to boot! I would he and all the brood of them were sunk a hundred -fathoms deep in the sea. But, meantime, I would send him a text to -digest.' - -'EXEMPLUM?' said the king. - -'Whom God has joined together let no man put asunder.' - -'Amen! quoth Henry softly. 'And France is a fair and comely bride.' - -After that he kept such a silence, falling as it seemed to me into a -brown study, that he went away without so much as bidding me farewell, -or being conscious, as far as I could tell, of my presence. Du Mornay -exchanged a few words with me, to assure himself that I understood what -I had to do, and then, with many kind expressions, which I did not fail -to treasure up and con over in the times that were coming, hastened -downstairs after his master. - -My joy when I found myself alone may be conceived. Yet was it no -ecstasy, but a sober exhilaration; such as stirred my pulses indeed, and -bade me once more face the world with a firm eye and an assured brow, -but was far from holding out before me a troubadour's palace or any -dazzling prospect. The longer I dwelt on the interview, the more clearly -I saw the truth. As the glamour which Henry's presence and singular -kindness had cast over me began to lose some of its power, I recognised -more and more surely why he had come to me. It was not out of any -special favour for one whom he knew by report only, if at all by -name; but because he had need of a man poor, and therefore reckless, -middle-aged (of which comes discretion), obscure--therefore a safe -instrument; to crown all, a gentleman, seeing that both a secret and a -women were in question. - -Withal I wondered too. Looking from the bag of money on the table to -the broken coin in my hand, I scarcely knew which to admire more: the -confidence which entrusted the one to a man broken and beggared, or the -courage of the gentlewoman who should accompany me on the faith of the -other. - - - -CHAPTER III. BOOT AND SADDLE. - -As was natural, I meditated deeply and far into the night on the -difficulties of the task, entrusted to me. I saw that it fell into -two parts: the release of the lady, and her safe conduct to Blois, a -distance of sixty leagues. The release I thought it probable I could -effect single-handed, or with one companion only; but in the troubled -condition of the country at this time, more particularly on both sides -of the Loire, I scarcely saw how I could ensure a lady's safety on the -road northwards unless I had with me at least five swords. - -To get these together at a few hours' notice promised to be no easy -task; although the presence of the Court of Navarre had filled St. Jean -with a crowd of adventurers. Yet the king's command was urgent, and -at some sacrifice, even at some risk, must be obeyed. Pressed by these -considerations, I could think of no better man to begin with than -Fresnoy. - -His character was bad, and he had long forfeited such claim as he had -ever possessed--I believe it was a misty one, on the distaff side--to -gentility. But the same cause which had rendered me destitute I mean -the death of the prince of Conde--had stripped him to the last rag; and -this, perhaps, inclining me to serve him, I was the more quick to see -his merits. I knew him already for a hardy, reckless man, very capable -of striking a shrewd blow. I gave him credit for being trusty, as long -as his duty jumped with his interest. - -Accordingly, as soon as it was light, having fed and groomed the Cid, -which was always the first employment of my day, I set out in search of -Fresnoy, and was presently lucky enough to find him taking his morning -draught outside the 'Three Pigeons,' a little inn not far from the north -gate. It was more than a fortnight since I had set eyes on him, and the -lapse of time had worked so great a change for the worse in him that, -forgetting my own shabbiness, I looked at him askance, as doubting the -wisdom of enlisting one who bore so plainly the marks of poverty and -dissipation. His great face--he was a large man--had suffered recent -ill-usage, and was swollen and discoloured, one eye being as good as -closed. He was unshaven, his hair was ill-kempt, his doublet unfastened -at the throat, and torn and stained besides. Despite the cold--for the -morning was sharp and frosty, though free from wind--there were half a -dozen packmen drinking and squabbling before the inn, while the beasts -they drove quenched their thirst at the trough. But these men seemed -with one accord to leave him in possession of the bench at which he sat; -nor did I wonder much at this when I saw the morose and savage -glance which he shot at me as I approached. Whether he read my first -impressions in my face, or for some other reason felt distaste for my -company, I could not determine. But, undeterred by his behaviour, I sat -down beside him and called for wine. - -He nodded sulkily in answer to my greeting, and cast a half-shamed, -half-angry look at me out of the corners of his eyes. 'You need not look -at me as though I were a dog,' he muttered presently. 'You are not so -very spruce yourself, my friend. But I suppose you have grown proud -since you got that fat appointment at Court!' And he laughed out loud, -so that I confess I was in two minds whether I should not force the jest -down his ugly throat. - -However I restrained myself, though my cheeks burned. 'You have heard -about it, then,' I said, striving to speak indifferently. - -'Who has not?' he said, laughing with his lips, though his eyes were far -from merry. 'The Sieur de Marsac's appointment! Ha! ha! Why, man--' - -'Enough of it now!' I exclaimed. And I dare say I writhed on my seat. -'As far as I am concerned the jest is a stale one, sir, and does not -amuse me.' - -'But it amuses me,' he rejoined with a grin. - -'Let it be, nevertheless,' I said; and I think he read a warning in my -eyes. 'I have come to speak to you upon another matter.' - -He did not refuse to listen, but threw one leg over the other, and -looking up at the inn-sign began to whistle in a rude, offensive manner. -Still, having an object in view, I controlled myself and continued. 'It -is this, my friend: money is not very plentiful at present with either -of us.' - -Before I could say any more he turned on me savagely, and with a loud -oath thrust his bloated face, flushed with passion, close to mine. 'Now -look here, M. de Marsac!' he cried violently, 'once for all, it is no -good! I have not got the money, and I cannot pay it. I said a fortnight -ago, when you lent it, that you should have it this week. Well,' -slapping his hand on the bench, I have not got it, and it is no good -beginning upon me. You cannot have it, and that is flat!' - -'Damn the money!' I cried. - -'What?' he exclaimed, scarcely believing his ears. - -'Let the money be!' I repeated fiercely. 'Do you hear? I have not come -about it, I am here to offer you work--good, well-paid work--if you will -enlist with me and play me fair, Fresnoy.' - -'Play fair!' he cried with an oath. - -'There, there,' I said, 'I am willing to let bygones be bygones if you -are. The point is, that I have an adventure on hand, and, wanting help, -can pay you for it.' - -He looked at me cunningly, His eye travelling over each rent and darn -in my doublet. 'I will help you fast enough,' he said at last. 'But I -should like to see the money first.' - -'You shall,' I answered. - -'Then I am with you, my friend. Count on me till death!' he cried, -rising and laying his hand in mine with a boisterous frankness which did -not deceive me into trusting him far. 'And now, whose is the affair, and -what is it?' - -'The affair is mine,' I said coldly. 'It is to carry off a lady.' - -He whistled and looked me over again, an impudent leer in his eyes. 'A -lady?' he exclaimed. 'Umph! I could understand a young spark going in -for such--but that's your affair. Who is it?' - -'That is my affair, too,' I answered coolly, disgusted by the man's -venality and meanness, and fully persuaded that I must trust him no -farther than the length of my sword. 'All I want you to do, M. Fresnoy,' -I continued stiffly, 'is to place yourself at my disposal and under my -orders for ten days. I will find you a horse and pay you--the enterprise -is a hazardous one, and I take that into account--two gold crowns a day, -and ten more if we succeed in reaching a place of safety.' - -'Such a place as--' - -'Never mind that,' I replied. 'The question is, do you accept?' - -He looked down sullenly, and I could see he was greatly angered by my -determination to keep the matter to myself. 'Am I to know no more than -that?' he asked, digging the point of his scabbard again and again into -the ground. - -'No more,' I answered firmly. 'I am bent on a desperate attempt to mend -my fortunes before they fall as low as yours; and that is as much as -I mean to tell living man. If you are loth to risk your life with your -eyes shut, say so, and I will go to someone else.' - -But he was not in a position, as I well knew, to refuse such an offer, -and presently he accepted it with a fresh semblance of heartiness. I -told him I should want four troopers to escort us, and these he offered -to procure, saying that he knew just the knaves to suit me. I bade him -hire two only, however, being too wise, to put myself altogether in his -hands; and then, having given him money to buy himself a horse--I made -it a term that the men should bring their own--and named a rendezvous -for the first hour after noon, I parted from him and went rather sadly -away. - -For I began to see that the king had not underrated the dangers of an -enterprise on which none but desperate men and such as were down in the -world could be expected to embark. Seeing this, and also a thing which -followed clearly from it--that I should have as much to fear from my -own company as from the enemy--I looked forward with little hope to a -journey during every day and every hour of which I must bear a growing -weight of fear and responsibility. - -It was too late to turn back, however, and I went about my preparations, -if with little cheerfulness, at least with steadfast purpose. I had -my sword ground and my pistols put in order by the cutler over whom I -lodged, and who performed this last office for me with the same goodwill -which had characterised, all his dealings with me. I sought out and -hired a couple of stout fellows whom I believed to be indifferently -honest, but who possessed the advantage of having horses; and besides -bought two led horses myself for mademoiselle and her woman. Such other -equipments as were absolutely necessary I purchased, reducing my stock -of money in this way to two hundred and ten crowns. How to dispose of -this sum so that it might be safe and yet at my command was a question -which greatly exercised me. In the end I had recourse to my friend -the cutler, who suggested hiding a hundred crowns of it in my cap, and -deftly contrived a place for the purpose. This, the cap being lined with -steel, was a matter of no great difficulty. A second hundred I sewed -up in the stuffing of my saddle, placing the remainder in my pouch for -present necessities. - -A small rain was falling in the streets when, a little after noon, I -started with my two knaves behind me and made for the north gate. So -many were moving this way and the other that we passed unnoticed, and -might have done so had we numbered six swords instead of three. When we -reached the rendezvous, a mile beyond the gate, we found Fresnoy already -there, taking shelter in the lee of a big holly-tree. He had four -horsemen with him, and on our appearance rode forward to meet us, crying -heartily, 'Welcome, M. le Capitaine!' - -'Welcome, certainly,' I answered, pulling the Cid up sharply, and -holding off from him. 'But who are these, M. Fresnoy?' and I pointed -with my riding-cane to his four companions. - -He tried to pass the matter off with a laugh. 'Oh! these?' he said. -'That is soon explained. The Evangelists would not be divided, so I -brought them all--Matthew Mark, Luke, and John--thinking it likely -you might fail to secure your men. And I will warrant them for four as -gallant boys as you will ever find behind you!' - -They were certainly four as arrant ruffians as I had ever seen before -me, and I saw I must not hesitate. 'Two or none, M. Fresnoy,' I said -firmly. 'I gave you a commission for two, and two I will take--Matthew -and Mark, or Luke and John, as you please.' - -''Tis a pity to break the party,' said he, scowling. - -'If that be all,' I retorted, 'one of my men is called John. And we will -dub the other Luke, if that will mend the matter.' - -'The Prince of Conde,' he muttered sullenly, 'employed these men.' - -'The Prince of Conde employed some queer people sometimes, M. Fresnoy,' -I answered, looking him straight between the eyes, 'as we all must. A -truce to this, if you please. We will take Matthew and Mark. The other -two be good enough to dismiss.' - -He seemed to waver for a moment, as if he had a mind to disobey, but -in the end, thinking better of it, he bade the men return; and as I -complimented each of them with a piece of silver, they went off, after -some swearing, in tolerably good humour. Thereon Fresnoy was for taking -the road at once, but having no mind to be followed, I gave the word to -wait until the two were out of sight. - -I think, as we sat our horses in the rain, the holly-bush not being -large enough to shelter us all, we were as sorry a band as ever set out -to rescue a lady; nor was it without pain that I looked round and saw -myself reduced to command such people. There was scarcely one whole -unpatched garment among us, and three of my squires had but a spur -apiece. To make up for this deficiency we mustered two black eyes, -Fresnoy's included, and a broken nose. Matthew's nag lacked a tail, -and, more remarkable still, its rider, as I presently discovered, was -stone-deaf; while Mark's sword was innocent of a scabbard, and his -bridle was plain rope. One thing, indeed, I observed with pleasure. The -two men who had come with me looked askance at the two who had come with -Fresnoy, and these returned the stare with interest. On this division -and on the length of my sword I based all my hopes of safety and of -something more. On it I was about to stake, not my own life only--which -was no great thing, seeing what my prospects were--but the life and -honour of a woman, young, helpless, and as yet unknown to me. - -Weighed down as I was by these considerations, I had to bear the -additional burden of hiding my fears and suspicions under a cheerful -demeanour. I made a short speech to my following, who one and all -responded by swearing to stand by me to the death. I then gave the word, -and we started, Fresnoy and I leading the way, Luke and John with the -led horses following, and the other two bringing up the rear. - -The rain continuing to fall and the country in this part being dreary -and monotonous, even in fair weather, I felt my spirits sink still lower -as the day advanced. The responsibility I was going to incur assumed -more serious proportions each time I scanned my following; while -Fresnoy, plying me with perpetual questions respecting my plans, was as -uneasy a companion as my worst enemy could have wished me. - -'Come!' he grumbled presently, when we had covered four leagues or -so, 'you have not told me yet, sieur, where we stay to-night. You are -travelling so slowly that--' - -'I am saving the horses,' I answered shortly. 'We shall do a long day -to-morrow.' - -'Yours looks fit for a week of days,' he sneered, with an evil look at -my Sardinian, which was, indeed, in better case than its master. 'It is -sleek enough, any way!' - -'It is as good as it looks,' I answered, a little nettled by his tone. - -'There is a better here,' he responded. - -'I don't see it,' I said. I had already eyed the nags all round, and -assured myself that, ugly and blemished as they were, they were up to -their work. But I had discerned no special merit among them. I looked -them over again now, and came to the same conclusion--that, except the -led horses, which I had chosen with some care, there was nothing among -them to vie with the Cid, either in speed or looks. I told Fresnoy so. - -'Would you like to try?' he said tauntingly. - -I laughed, adding, 'If you think I am going to tire our horses by racing -them, with such work as we have before us, you are mistaken, Fresnoy. I -am not a boy, you know.' - -'There need be no question of racing,' he answered more quietly. 'You -have only to get on that rat-tailed bay of Matthew's to feel its paces -and say I am right.' - -I looked at the bay, a bald-faced, fiddle-headed horse, and saw that, -with no signs of breeding, it was still a big-boned animal with good -shoulders and powerful hips. I thought it possible Fresnoy might be -right, and if so, and the bay's manners were tolerable, it might do for -mademoiselle better than the horse I had chosen. At any rate, if we had -a fast horse among us, it was well to know the fact, so bidding Matthew -change with me, and be careful of the Cid, I mounted the bay, and -soon discovered that its paces were easy and promised speed, while its -manners seemed as good as even a timid rider could desire. - -Our road at the time lay across a flat desolate heath, dotted here and -there with, thorn-bushes; the track being broken and stony, extended -more than a score of yards in width, through travellers straying to this -side and that to escape the worst places. Fresnoy and I, in making the -change, had fallen slightly behind the other three, and were riding -abreast of Matthew on the Cid. - -'Well,' he said, 'was I not right?' - -'In part,' I answered. 'The horse is better than its looks.' - -'Like many others,' he rejoined, a spark of resentment in his tone--'men -as well as horses, M. de Marsac. But What do you say? Shall we canter on -a little and overtake the others?' - -Thinking it well to do so, I assented readily, and we started together. -We had ridden, however, no more than a hundred yards, and I was only -beginning to extend the bay, when Fresnoy, slightly drawing rein, turned -in his saddle and looked back. The next moment he cried, 'Hallo! what is -this? Those fellows are not following us, are they?' - -I turned sharply to look. At that moment, without falter or warning, the -bay horse went down under me as if shot dead, throwing me half a dozen -yards over its head; and that so suddenly that I had no time to raise my -arms, but, falling heavily on my head and shoulder, lost consciousness. - -I have had many falls, but no other to vie with that in utter -unexpectedness. When I recovered my senses I found myself leaning, giddy -and sick, against the bole of an old thorn-tree. Fresnoy and Matthew -supported me on either side, and asked me how I found myself; while the -other three men, their forms black against the stormy evening sky, sat -their horses a few paces in front of me. I was too much dazed at first -to see more, and this only in a mechanical fashion; but gradually, my -brain grew clearer, and I advanced from wondering who the strangers -round me were to recognising them, and finally to remembering what had -happened to me. - -'Is the horse hurt?' I muttered as soon as I could speak. - -'Not a whit,' Fresnoy answered, chuckling, or I was much mistaken. 'I am -afraid you came off the worse of the two, captain.' - -He exchanged a look with the men on horseback as he spoke, and in a dull -fashion I fancied I saw them smile. One even laughed, and another turned -in his saddle as if to hide his face. I had a vague general sense that -there was some joke on foot in which I had no part. But I was too much -shaken at the moment to be curious, and gratefully accepted the offer of -one, of the men to fetch me a little water. While he was away the rest -stood round me, the same look of ill-concealed drollery on their faces. -Fresnoy alone talked, speaking volubly of the accident, pouring out -expressions of sympathy and cursing the road, the horse, and the wintry -light until the water came; when, much refreshed by the draught, I -managed to climb to the Cid's saddle and plod slowly onwards with them. - -'A bad beginning,' Fresnoy said presently, stealing a sly glance at -me as we jogged along side by side, Chize half a league before us, and -darkness not far off. - -By this time, however, I was myself again, save for a little humming is -the head, and, shrugging my shoulders, I told him so. 'All's well that -ends well,' I added. 'Not that it was a pleasant fall, or that I wish to -have such another.' - -'No, I should think not,' he answered. His face was turned from me, but -I fancied I heard him snigger. - -Something, which may have been a vague suspicion, led me a moment later -to put my hand into my pouch. Then I understood. I understood too well. -The sharp surprise of the discovery was such that involuntarily I drove -my spurs into the Cid, and the horse sprang forward. - -'What is the matter?' Fresnoy asked. - -'The matter?' I echoed, my hand still at my belt, feeling--feeling -hopelessly. - -'Yes, what is it?' he asked, a brazen smile on his rascally face. - -I looked at him, my brow as red as fire. 'Oh! nothing--nothing,' I said. -'Let us trot on.' - -In truth I had discovered that, taking advantage of my helplessness, the -scoundrels had robbed me, while I lay insensible, of every gold crown -in my purse! Nor was this all, or the worst, for I saw at once that -in doing so they had effected something which was a thousandfold more -ominous and formidable--established against me that secret understanding -which it was my especial aim to prevent, and on the absence of which I -had been counting. Nay, I saw that for my very life I had only my friend -the cutler and my own prudence to thank, seeing that these rogues would -certainly have murdered me without scruple had they succeeded in finding -the bulk of my money. Baffled in this, while still persuaded that I had -other resources, they had stopped short of that villany--or this memoir -had never been written. They had kindly permitted me to live until a -more favourable opportunity of enriching themselves at my expense should -put them in possession of my last crown! - -Though I was sufficiently master of myself to refrain from complaints -which I felt must be useless, and from menaces which it has never -been my habit to utter unless I had also the power to put them into -execution, it must not be imagined that I did not, as I rode on by -Fresnoy's side, feel my position acutely or see how absurd a figure -I cut in my dual character of leader and dupe. Indeed, the reflection -that, being in this perilous position, I was about to stake another's -safety as well as my own, made me feel the need of a few minutes' -thought so urgent that I determined to gain them, even at the risk -of leaving my men at liberty to plot further mischief. Coming almost -immediately afterwards within sight, of the turrets of the Chateau of -Chize, I told Fresnoy that we should lie the night at the village; -and bade him take the men on and secure quarters at the inn. Attacked -instantly by suspicion and curiosity, he demurred stoutly to leaving me, -and might have persisted in his refusal had I not pulled up, and clearly -shown him that I would have my own way in this case or come to an open -breach. He shrank, as I expected, from the latter alternative, and, -bidding me a sullen adieu, trotted on with his troop. I waited until -they were out of sight, and then, turning the Cid's head, crossed a -small brook which divided the road from the chase, and choosing a -ride which seemed to pierce the wood in the direction of the Chateau, -proceeded down it, keeping a sharp look-out on either hand. - -It was then, my thoughts turning to the lady who was now so near, and -who, noble, rich, and a stranger, seemed, as I approached her, not the -least formidable of the embarrassments before me--it was then that I -made a discovery which sent a cold shiver through my frame, and in -a moment swept all memory of my paltry ten crowns from my head. -Ten crowns! Alas! I had lost that which was worth all my crowns put -together--the broken coin which the King of Navarre had entrusted to -me, and which formed my sole credential, my only means of persuading -Mademoiselle de la Vire that I came from him. I had put it in my pouch, -and of course, though the loss of it only came home to my mind now, it -had disappeared with the rest. - -I drew rein and sat for some time motionless, the image of despair. -The wind which stirred the naked boughs overhead, and whirled the -dead leaves in volleys past my feet, and died away at last among the -whispering bracken, met nowhere with wretchedness greater, I believe, -than was mine at that moment. - - - -CHAPTER IV. MADEMOISELLE DE LA VIRE. - -My first desperate impulse on discovering the magnitude of my loss was -to ride after the knaves and demand the token at the sword's point. The -certainty, however, of finding them united, and the difficulty of saying -which of the five possessed what I wanted, led me to reject this plan -as I grew cooler; and since I did not dream, even in this dilemma, of -abandoning the expedition the only alternative seemed to be to act as -if I still had the broken coin, and essay what a frank explanation might -effect when the time came. - -After some wretched, very wretched, moments of debate, I resolved to -adopt this course; and, for the present, thinking I might gain -some knowledge of the surroundings while the light lasted, I pushed -cautiously forward through the trees and came in less than five minutes -within sight of a corner of the chateau, which I found to be a modern -building of the time of Henry II., raised, like the houses of that -time, for pleasure rather than defence, and decorated with many handsome -casements and tourelles. Despite this, it wore, as I saw it, a grey and -desolate air, due in part to the loneliness of the situation and the -lateness of the hour; and in part, I think, to the smallness of the -household maintained, for no one was visible on the terrace or at the -windows. The rain dripped from the trees, which on two sides pressed so -closely on the house as almost to darken the rooms, and everything I -saw encouraged me to hope that mademoiselle's wishes would second my -entreaties, and incline her to lend a ready ear to my story. - -The appearance of the house, indeed, was a strong inducement to me to -proceed, for it was impossible to believe that a young lady, a kinswoman -of the gay and vivacious Turenne, and already introduced to the -pleasures of the Court, would elect of her own free will to spend the -winter in so dreary a solitude. - -Taking advantage of the last moments of daylight, I rode cautiously -round the house, and, keeping in the shadow of the trees, had no -difficulty in discovering at the north-east corner the balcony of which -I had been told. It was semi-circular in shape, with a stone balustrade, -and hung some fifteen feet above a terraced walk which ran below it, and -was separated from the chase by a low sunk fence. - -I was surprised to observe that, notwithstanding the rain and the -coldness of the evening, the window which gave upon this balcony was -open. Nor was this all. Luck was in store for me at last. I had not -gazed at the window more than a minute, calculating its height and other -particulars, when, to my great joy, a female figure, closely hooded, -stepped out and stood looking up at the sky. I was too far off to be -able to discern by that uncertain light whether this was Mademoiselle de -la Vire or her woman; but the attitude was so clearly one of dejection -and despondency, that I felt sure it was either one or the other. -Determined not to let the opportunity slip, I dismounted hastily -and, leaving the Cid loose, advanced on foot until I stood within -half-a-dozen paces of the window. - -At that point the watcher became aware of me. She started back, but did -not withdraw. Still peering down at me, she called softly to some one -inside the chamber, and immediately a second figure, taller and stouter, -appeared. I had already doffed my cap, and I now, in a low voice, begged -to know if I had the honour of speaking to Mademoiselle de la Vire. In -the growing darkness it was impossible to distinguish faces. - -'Hush!' the stouter figure muttered in a tone of warning. 'Speak lower. -Who are you, and what do you here?' - -'I am here,' I answered respectfully, 'commissioned by a friend of the -lady I have named, to convey her to a place of safety.' - -'Mon dieu!' was the sharp answer. 'Now? It is impossible.' - -'No,' I murmured, 'not now, but to-night. The moon rises at half-past -two. My horses need rest and food. At three I will be below this window -with the means of escape, if mademoiselle choose to use them.' - -I felt that they were staring at me through the dusk, as though they -would read my breast. 'Your name, sir?' the shorter figure murmured at -last, after a pause which was full of suspense and excitement. - -'I do not think my name of much import at present, Mademoiselle,' I -answered, reluctant to proclaim myself a stranger. 'When--' - -'Your name, your name, sir!' she repeated imperiously, and I heard her -little heel rap upon the stone floor of the balcony. - -'Gaston de Marsac,' I answered unwillingly. - -They both started, and cried out together. 'Impossible!' the last -speaker exclaimed, amazement and anger in her tone, 'This is a jest, -sir. This--' - -What more she would have said I was left to guess, for at that moment -her attendant I had no doubt now which was mademoiselle and which -Fanchette--suddenly laid her hand on her mistress's mouth and pointed -to the room behind them. A second's suspense, and with a wanting gesture -the two turned and disappeared through the window. - -I lost no time in regaining the shelter of the trees; and concluding, -though I was far from satisfied with the interview, that I could do -nothing more now, but might rather, by loitering in the neighbourhood, -awaken suspicion, I remounted and made for the highway and the village, -where I found my men in noisy occupation of the inn, a poor place, with -unglazed windows, and a fire in the middle of the earthen floor. -My first care was to stable the Cid in a shed at the back, where I -provided for its wants as far as I could with the aid of a half-naked -boy, who seemed to be in hiding there. - -This done, I returned to the front of the house, having pretty well made -up my mind how I would set about the task before me. As I passed one of -the windows, which was partially closed by a rude curtain made of old -sacks, I stopped to look in. Fresnoy and his four rascals were seated -on blocks of wood round the hearth, talking loudly and fiercely, and -ruffling it as if the fire and the room were their own. A pedlar, -seated on his goods in one corner, was eyeing them with evident fear -and suspicion; in another corner two children had taken refuge under a -donkey, which some fowls had chosen as a roosting-pole. The innkeeper, a -sturdy fellow, with a great club in his fist, sat moodily at the foot of -a ladder which led to the loft above, while a slatternly woman, who was -going to and fro getting supper, seemed in equal terror of her guests -and her good man. - -Confirmed by what I saw, and assured that the villains were ripe for any -mischief, and, if not checked, would speedily be beyond my control, I -noisily flung the door open and entered. Fresnoy looked up with a sneer -as I did so, and one of the men laughed. The others became silent; but -no one moved or greeted me. Without a moment's hesitation I stepped to -the nearest fellow and, with a sturdy kick, sent his log from under him. -'Rise, you rascal, when I enter!' I cried, giving vent to the anger -I had long felt. 'And you, too!' and with a second kick I sent his -neighbour's stool flying also, and administered a couple of cuts with -my riding-cane across the man's shoulders. 'Have you no manners, sirrah? -Across with you, and leave this side to your betters.' - -The two rose, snarling and feeling for their weapons, and for a moment -stood facing me, looking now at me and now askance at Fresnoy. But as he -gave no sign, and their comrades only laughed, the men's courage failed -them at the pinch, and with a very poor grace they sneaked over to the -other side of the fire and sat there, scowling. - -I seated myself beside their leader. 'This gentleman and I will eat -here,' I cried to the man at the foot of the ladder. 'Bid your wife lay -for us, and of the best you have; and do you give those knaves their -provender where the smell of their greasy jackets will not come between -us and our victuals.' - -The man came forward, glad enough, as I saw, to discover any one in -authority, and very civilly began to draw wine and place a board for us, -while his wife filled our platters from the black pot which hung over -the fire. Fresnoy's face meanwhile wore the amused smile of one who -comprehended my motives, but felt sufficiently sure of his position -and influence with his followers to be indifferent to my proceedings. -I presently showed him, however, that I had not yet done with him. Our -table was laid in obedience to my orders at such a distance from the -men that they could not overhear our talk, and by-and-by I leant over to -him. - -'M. Fresnoy,' I said, 'you are in danger of forgetting one thing, I -fancy, which it behoves you to remember.' - -'What?' he muttered, scarcely deigning to look up at me. - -'That you have to do with Gaston de Marsac,' I answered quietly. 'I -am making, as I told you this morning, a last attempt to recruit -my fortunes, and I will let no man--no man, do you understand, M. -Fresnoy?--thwart me and go harmless.' - -'Who wishes to thwart you?' he asked impudently. - -'You,' I answered unmoved, helping myself, as I spoke, from the roll of -black bread which lay beside me. 'You robbed me this afternoon; I passed -it over. You encouraged those men to be insolent; I passed it over. -But let me tell you this. If you fail me to-night, on the honour of a -gentleman, M. Fresnoy, I will run you through as I would spit a lark.' - -'Will you? But two can play at that game,' he cried, rising nimbly from -his stool. 'Still better six! Don't you think, M. de Marsac, you had -better have waited--?' - -'I think you had better hear one word more,' I answered coolly, keeping -my seat, 'before you appeal to your fellows there.' - -'Well,' he said, still standing, 'what is it?' - -'Nay,' I replied, after once more pointing to his stool in vain, 'if you -prefer to take my orders standing, well and good.' - -'Your orders?' he shrieked, growing suddenly excited. - -'Yes, my orders!' I retorted, rising as suddenly to my feet and hitching -forward my sword. 'My orders, sir,' I repeated fiercely, 'or, if you -dispute my right to command as well as to pay this party, let us decide -the question here and now--you and I, foot to foot, M. Fresnoy.' - -The quarrel flashed up so suddenly, though I had been preparing it all -along, that no one moved. The woman indeed, fell back to her children, -but the rest looked on open-mouthed. Had they stirred, or had a moment's -hurly-burly heated his blood, I doubt not Fresnoy would have taken up -my challenge, for he did not lack hardihood. But as it was, face to face -with me in the silence, his courage failed him. He paused, glowering at -me uncertainly, and did not speak. - -'Well,' I said, 'don't you think that if I pay I ought to give orders, -sir?' - -'Who wishes to oppose your orders?' he muttered, drinking off a bumper, -and sitting down with an air of impudent bravado, assumed to hide his -discomfiture. - -'If you don't, no one else does,' I answered. So that is settled. -Landlord, some more wine.' - -He was very sulky with me for a while, fingering his glass in silence -and scowling at the table. He had enough gentility to feel the -humiliation to which he had exposed himself, and a sufficiency of wit to -understand that that moment's hesitation had cost him the allegiance of -his fellow-ruffians. I hastened, therefore, to set him at his ease by -explaining my plans for the night, and presently succeeded beyond my -hopes; for when he heard who the lady was whom I proposed to carry -off, and that she was lying that evening at the Chateau de Chize, his -surprise swept away the last trace of resentment. He stared at me, as at -a maniac. - -'Mon Dieu!' he exclaimed. 'Do you know what you are doing, Sieur?' - -'I think so,' I answered. - -'Do you know to whom the chateau belongs?' - -'To the Vicomte de Turenne.' - -'And that Mademoiselle de la Vire is his relation?' - -'Yes,' I said. - -'Mon Dieu!' he exclaimed again. And he looked at me open-mouthed. - -'What is the matter?' I asked, though I had an uneasy consciousness that -I knew--that I knew very well. - -'Man, he will crush you as I crush this hat!' he answered in great -excitement. 'As easily. Who do you think will protect you from him in a -private quarrel of this kind? Navarre? France? our good man? Not one -of them. You had better steal the king's crown jewels--he is weak; -or Guise's last plot--he is generous at times, or Navarre's last -sweetheart--he is as easy as an old shoe. You had better have to do with -all these together, I tell you, than touch Turenne's ewe-lambs, unless -your aim be to be broken on the wheel! Mon Dieu, yes!' - -'I am much obliged to you for your advice,' I said stiffly, 'but the die -is cast. My mind is made up. On the other hand, if you are afraid, M. -Fresnoy--' - -'I am afraid; very much afraid,' he answered frankly. - -'Still your name need not be brought into the matter,' I replied, 'I -will take the responsibility. I will let them know my name here at the -inn, where, doubtless, inquiries will be made.' - -'To be sure, that is something,' he answered thoughtfully. 'Well, it -is an ugly business, but I am in for it. You want me to go with you a -little after two, do you? and the others to be in the saddle at three? -Is that it?' - -I assented, pleased to find him so far acquiescent; and in this -way, talking the details over more than once, we settled our course, -arranging to fly by way of Poitiers and Tours. Of course I did not tell -him why I selected Blois as our refuge, nor what was my purpose there; -though he pressed me more than once on the point, and grew thoughtful -and somewhat gloomy when I continually evaded it. A little after eight -we retired to the loft to sleep; our men remaining below round the fire -and snoring so merrily as almost to shake the crazy old building. The -host was charged to sit up and call us as soon as the moon rose, but, -as it turned out, I might as well have taken this office on myself, for -between excitement and distrust I slept little, and was wide awake when -I heard his step on the ladder and knew it was time to rise. - -I was up in a moment, and Fresnoy was little behind me; so that, losing -no time in talk, we were mounted and on the road, each with a spare -horse at his knee, before the moon was well above the trees. Once in the -Chase we found it necessary to proceed on foot, but, the distance being -short, we presently emerged without misadventure and stood opposite to -the chateau, the upper part of which shone cold and white in the moon's -rays. - -There was something so solemn in the aspect of the place, the night -being fine and the sky without a cloud, that I stood for a minute awed -and impressed, the sense of the responsibility I was here to accept -strong upon me. In that short space of time all the dangers before me, -as well the common risks of the road as the vengeance of Turenne and the -turbulence of my own men, presented themselves to my mind, and made -a last appeal to me to turn back from an enterprise so foolhardy. The -blood in a man's veins runs low and slow at that hour, and mine was -chilled by lack of sleep and the wintry air. It needed the remembrance -of my solitary condition, of my past spent in straits and failure, of -the grey hairs which swept my cheek, of the sword which I had long used -honourably, if with little profit to myself; it needed the thought of -all these things to restore me to courage and myself. - -I judged at a later period that my companion was affected in somewhat -the same way; for, as I stooped to press home the pegs which I had -brought to tether the horses, he laid his hand on my arm. Glancing up to -see what he wanted, I was struck by the wild look in his face (which the -moonlight invested with a peculiar mottled pallor), and particularly in -his eyes, which glittered like a madman's. He tried to speak, but seemed -to find a difficulty in doing so; and I had to question him roughly -before he found his tongue. When he did speak, it was only to implore me -in an odd, excited manner to give up the expedition and return. - -'What, now?' I said, surprised. 'Now we are here, Fresnoy?' - -'Ay, give it up!' he cried, shaking me almost fiercely by the arm. 'Give -it up, man! It will end badly, I tell you! In God's name, give it up, -and go home before worse comes of it.' - -'Whatever comes of it,' I answered coldly, shaking his grasp from my -arm, and wondering much at this sudden fit of cowardice, 'I go on. You, -M. Fresnoy, may do as you please!' - -He started and drew back from me; but he did not reply, nor did he speak -again. When I presently went off to fetch a ladder, of the position of -which I had made a note during the afternoon, he accompanied me, and -followed me back in the same dull silence to the walk below the balcony. -I had looked more than once and eagerly at mademoiselle's window without -any light or movement in that quarter rewarding my vigilance; but, -undeterred by this, which might mean either that my plot was known, -or that Mademoiselle de la Vire distrusted me, I set the ladder softly -against the balcony, which was in deep shadow, and paused only to give -Fresnoy his last instructions. These were simply to stand on guard -at the foot of the ladder and defend it in case of surprise; so that, -whatever happened inside the chateau, my retreat by the window might not -be cut off. - -Then I went cautiously up the ladder, and, with my sheathed sword in my -left hand, stepped over the balustrade. Taking one pace forward, with -fingers outstretched, I felt the leaded panes of the window and tapped -softly. - -As softly the casement gave way, and I followed it. A hand which I could -see but not feel was laid on mine. All was darkness in the room, and -before me, but the hand guided me two paces forward, then by a sudden -pressure bade me stand. I heard the sound of a curtain being drawn -behind me, and the next moment the cover of a rushlight was removed, and -a feeble but sufficient light filled the chamber. - -I comprehended that the drawing of that curtain over the window had cut -off my retreat as effectually as if a door had been closed behind me. -But distrust and suspicion gave way the next moment to the natural -embarrassment of the man who finds himself in a false position and knows -he can escape from it only by an awkward explanation. - -The room in which I found myself was long, narrow, and low in the -ceiling; and being hung with some dark stuff which swallowed up the -light, terminated funereally at the farther end in the still deeper -gloom of an alcove. Two or three huge chests, one bearing the remnants -of a meal, stood against the walls. The middle of the floor was covered -with a strip of coarse matting, on which a small table, a chair and -foot-rest, and a couple of stools had place, with some smaller articles -which lay scattered round a pair of half-filled saddle-bags. The -slighter and smaller of the two figures I had seen stood beside the -table, wearing a mask and riding cloak; and by her silent manner of -gazing at me, as well as by a cold, disdainful bearing, which neither -her mask nor cloak could hide, did more to chill and discomfit me than -even my own knowledge that I had lost the pass-key which should have -admitted me to her confidence. - -The stouter figure of the afternoon turned out to be a red-cheeked, -sturdy woman of thirty, with bright black eyes and a manner which lost -nothing of its fierce impatience when she came a little later to address -me. All my ideas of Fanchette were upset by the appearance of this -woman, who, rustic in her speech and ways, seemed more like a duenna, -than the waiting-maid of a court beauty, and better fitted to guard a -wayward damsel than to aid her in such an escapade as we had in hand. - -She stood slightly behind her mistress, her coarse red hand resting on -the back of the chair from which mademoiselle had apparently risen on my -entrance. For a few seconds, which seemed minutes to me, we stood gazing -at one another in silence, mademoiselle acknowledging my bow by a slight -movement of the head. Then, seeing that they waited for me to speak, I -did so. - -'Mademoiselle de la Vire?' I murmured doubtfully. - -She bent her head again; that was all. - -I strove to speak with confidence. 'You will pardon me, mademoiselle,' -I said, 'if I seem to be abrupt, but time is everything. The horses are -standing within a hundred yards of the house, and all the preparations -for your flight are made. If we leave now, we can do so without -opposition. The delay even of an hour may lead to discovery.' - -For answer she laughed behind her mask-laughed coldly and ironically. -'You go too fast, sir,' she said, her low clear voice matching the laugh -and rousing a feeling almost of anger in my heart. 'I do not know you; -or, rather, I know nothing of you which should entitle you to interfere -in my affairs. You are too quick to presume, sir. You say you come from -a friend. From whom?' - -'From one whom I am proud to call by that title,' I answered with what -patience I might. - -'His name!' - -I answered firmly that I could not give it. And I eyed her steadily as I -did so. - -This for the moment seemed to baffle and confuse her, but after a pause -she continued: 'Where do you propose to take me, sir?' - -'To Blois; to the lodging of a friend of my friend.' - -'You speak bravely,' she replied with a faint sneer. 'You have made some -great friends lately it seems! But you bring me some letter, no doubt; -at least some sign, some token, some warranty, that you are the person -you pretend to be, M. de Marsac?' - -'The truth is, Mademoiselle,' I stammered, 'I must explain. I should -tell you--' - -'Nay, sir,' she cried impetuously, 'there is no need of telling. If you -have what I say, show it me! It is you who lose time. Let us have no -more words!' - -I had used very few words, and, God knows, was not in the mind to use -many; but, being in the wrong, I had no answer to make except the truth, -and that humbly. 'I had such a token as you mention, mademoiselle,' I -said, 'no farther back than this afternoon, in the shape of half a gold -coin, entrusted to me by my friend. But, to my shame I say it, it was -stolen from me a few hours back.' - -'Stolen from you!' she exclaimed. - -'Yes, mademoiselle; and for that reason I cannot show it,' I answered. - -'You cannot show it? And you dare to come to me without it!' she cried, -speaking with a vehemence which fairly startled me, prepared as I was -for reproaches. You come to me! You!' she continued. And with that, -scarcely stopping to take breath, she loaded me with abuse; calling me -impertinent, a meddler, and a hundred other things, which I now blush -to recall, and displaying in all a passion which even in her attendant -would have surprised me, but in one so slight and seemingly delicate, -overwhelmed and confounded me. In fault as I was, I could not understand -the peculiar bitterness she displayed, or the contemptuous force of her -language, and I stared at her in silent wonder until, of her own accord, -she supplied the key to her feelings. In a fresh outburst of rage she -snatched off her mask, and to my astonishment I saw before me the -young maid of honour whom I had encountered in the King of Navarre's -antechamber, and whom I had been so unfortunate as to expose to the -raillery of Mathurine. - -'Who has paid you, sir,' she continued, clenching her small hands and -speaking with tears of anger in her eyes, 'to make me the laughing-stock -of the Court? It was bad enough when I thought you the proper agent of -those to whom I have a right to look for aid! It was bad enough when -I thought myself forced, through their inconsiderate choice, to -decide between an odious imprisonment and the ridicule to which your -intervention must expose me! But that you should have dared, of your own -notion, to follow me, you, the butt of the Court--' - -'Mademoiselle!' I cried. - -'A needy, out-at-elbows adventurer!' she persisted, triumphing in her -cruelty. 'It exceeds all bearing! It is not to be suffered! It--' - -'Nay, mademoiselle; you SHALL hear me!' I cried, with a sternness which -at last stopped her. 'Granted I am poor, I am still a gentleman; yes, -mademoiselle,' I continued, firmly, 'a gentleman, and the last of a -family which has spoken with yours on equal terms. And I claim to be -heard. I swear that when I came here to-night I believed you to be a -perfect stranger! I was unaware that I had ever seen you, unaware that I -had ever met you before.' - -'Then why did you come?' she said viciously. - -'I was engaged to come by those whom you have mentioned, and there, -and there only am I in fault. They entrusted to me a token which I have -lost. For that I crave your pardon.' - -'You have need to,' she answered bitterly, yet with a changed -countenance, or I was mistaken, 'if your story be true, sir.' - -'Ay, that you have!' the woman beside her echoed. - -'Hoity toity, indeed! Here is a fuss about nothing. You call yourself a -gentleman, and wear such a doublet as--' - -'Peace, Fanchette,' mademoiselle said imperiously. And then for a moment -she stood silent, eyeing me intently, her lips trembling with excitement -and two red spots burning in her cheeks. It was clear from her dress -and other things that she had made up her mind to fly had the token been -forthcoming; and seeing this, and knowing how unwilling a young girl -is to forgo her own way, I still had some hopes that she might not -persevere in her distrust and refusal. And so it turned out. - -Her manner had changed to one of quiet scorn when she next spoke. 'You -defend yourself skilfully, sir,' she said, drumming with her fingers on -the table and eyeing me steadfastly. 'But can you give me any reason for -the person you name making choice of such a messenger?' - -'Yes,' I answered, boldly. 'That he may not be suspected of conniving at -your escape.' - -'Oh!' she cried, with a spark of her former passion. 'Then it is to be -put about that Mademoiselle de la Vire had fled from Chize with M. de -Marsac, is it? I thought that!' - -'Through the assistance of M. de Marsac,' I retorted, correcting her -coldly. 'It is for you, mademoiselle,' I continued, 'to weigh that -disadvantage against the unpleasantness of remaining here. It only -remains for me to ask you to decide quickly. Time presses, and I have -stayed here too long already.' - -The words had barely passed my lips when they received unwelcome -confirmation in the shape of a distant sound--the noisy closing of a -door, which, clanging through the house at such an hour--I judged it to -be after three o'clock--could scarcely mean anything but mischief. -This noise was followed immediately, even while we stood listening with -raised fingers, by other sounds--a muffled cry, and the tramp of heavy -footsteps in a distant passage. Mademoiselle looked at me, and I at her -woman. 'The door!' I muttered. 'Is it locked?' - -'And bolted!' Fanchette answered; 'and a great chest set against it. Let -them ramp; they will do no harm for a bit.' - -'Then you have still time, mademoiselle,' I whispered, retreating a step -and laying my hand on the curtain before the window. Perhaps I affected -greater coolness than I felt. 'It is not too late. If you choose to -remain, well and good. I cannot help it. If, on the other hand, you -decide to trust yourself to me, I swear, on the honour of a gentleman, -to be worthy of the trust--to serve you truly and protect you to the -last! I can say no more.' - -She trembled, looking from me to the door, on which some one had just -begun to knock loudly. That seemed to decide her. Her lips apart, her -eyes full of excitement, she turned hastily to Fanchette. - -'Ay, go if you like,' the woman answered doggedly, reading the meaning -of her look. 'There cannot be a greater villain than the one we know -of. But once started, heaven help us, for if he overtakes us we'll pay -dearly for it!' - -The girl did not speak herself, but it was enough. The noise at the door -increased each second, and began to be mingled with angry appeals to -Fanchette to open, and with threats in case she delayed. I cut the -matter short by snatching up one of the saddle-bags--the other we left -behind--and flung back the curtain which covered the window. At the same -time the woman dashed out the light--a timely precaution--and throwing -open the casement I stepped on to the balcony, the others following me -closely. - -The moon had risen high, and flooding with light the small open space -about the house enabled me to see clearly all round the foot of the -ladder, to my surprise Fresnoy was not at his post, nor was he to be -seen anywhere; but as, at the moment I observed this, an outcry away to -my left, at the rear of the chateau, came to my ears, and announced -that the danger was no longer confined to the interior of the house, -I concluded that he had gone that way to intercept the attack. Without -more, therefore, I began to descend as quickly as I could, my sword -under one arm and the bag under the other. - -I was half-way down, and mademoiselle was already stepping on to the -ladder to follow, when I heard footsteps below, and saw him run up, his -sword in his hand. - -'Quick, Fresnoy!' I cried. 'To the horses and unfasten them! quick!' - -I slid down the rest of the way, thinking he had gone to do my bidding. -But my feet were scarcely on the ground when a tremendous blow in the -side sent me staggering three paces from the ladder. The attack was -so sudden, so unexpected, that but for the sight of Fresnoy's scowling -face, wild with rage, at my shoulder, and the sound of his fierce -breathing as he strove to release his sword, which had passed through my -saddle-bag, I might never have known who struck the blow, or how narrow -had been my escape. - -Fortunately the knowledge did come to me in time, and before he freed -his blade; and it nerved my hand. To draw my-blade at such close -quarters was impossible, but, dropping the bag which had saved my life, -I dashed my hilt twice in his face with such violence that he fell -backwards and lay on the turf, a dark stain growing and spreading on his -upturned face. - -It was scarcely done before the women reached the foot of the ladder and -stood beside me. 'Quick!' I cried to them, 'or they will be upon us.' -Seizing mademoiselle's hand, just as half-a-dozen men came running round -the corner of the house, I jumped with her down the haha, and, urging -her to her utmost speed, dashed across the open ground which lay between -us and the belt of trees. Once in the shelter of the latter, where our -movements were hidden from view, I had still to free the horses and -mount mademoiselle and her woman, and this in haste. But my companions' -admirable coolness and presence of mind, and the objection which our -pursuers, who did not know our numbers, felt to leaving the open ground, -enabled us to do all with, comparative ease. I sprang on the Cid (it has -always been my habit to teach my horse to stand for me, nor do I know -any accomplishment more serviceable at a pinch), and giving Fresnoy's -grey a cut over the flanks which despatched it ahead, led the way down -the ride by which I had gained the chateau in the afternoon. I knew -it to be level and clear of trees, and the fact that we chose it might -throw our pursuers off the track for a time, by leading them to think we -had taken the south road instead of that through the village. - - - -CHAPTER V. THE ROAD TO BLOIS. - -We gained the road without let or hindrance, whence a sharp burst in the -moonlight soon brought us to the village. Through this we swept on -to the inn, almost running over the four evangelists, whom we found -standing at the door ready for the saddle. I bade them, in a quick -peremptory tone, to get to horse, and was overjoyed to see them obey -without demur or word of Fresnoy. In another minute, with a great -clatter of hoofs, we sprang clear of the hamlet, and were well on the -road to Melle, with Poitiers some thirteen leagues before us. I looked -back, and thought I discerned lights moving in the direction of the -chateau; but the dawn was still two hours off, and the moonlight left -me in doubt whether these were real or the creatures of my own fearful -fancy. - -I remember, three years before this time, on the occasion of the famous -retreat from Angers--when the Prince of Conde had involved his army -beyond the Loire, and saw himself, in the impossibility of recrossing -the river, compelled to take ship for England, leaving every one to -shift for himself--I well remember on that occasion riding, alone and -pistol in hand, through more than thirty miles of the enemy's country -without drawing rein. But my anxieties were then confined to the four -shoes of my horse. The dangers to which I was exposed at every ford and -cross road were such as are inseparable from a campaign, and breed in -generous hearts only a fierce pleasure, rarely to be otherwise enjoyed. -And though I then rode warily, and where I could not carry terror, -had all to fear myself, there was nothing secret or underhand in my -business. - -It was very different now. During the first few hours of our flight from -Chize I experienced a painful excitement, an alarm, a feverish anxiety -to get forward, which was new to me; which oppressed my spirits to the -very ground; which led me to take every sound borne to us on the wind -for the sound of pursuit, transforming the clang of a hammer on the -anvil into the ring of swords, and the voices of my own men into those -of the pursuers. It was in vain mademoiselle rode with a free hand, and -leaping such obstacles as lay in our way, gave promise of courage and -endurance beyond my expectations. I could think of nothing but the three -long day's before us, with twenty-four hours to every day, and each hour -fraught with a hundred chances of disaster and ruin. - -In fact, the longer I considered our position--and as we pounded along, -now splashing through a founderous hollow, now stumbling as we wound -over a stony shoulder, I had ample time to reflect upon it--the greater -seemed the difficulties before us. The loss of Fresnoy, while it freed -me from some embarrassment, meant also the loss of a good sword, and we -had mustered only too few before. The country which lay between us and -the Loire, being the borderland between our party and the League, had -been laid desolate so often as to be abandoned to pillage and disorder -of every kind. The peasants had flocked into the towns. Their places -had been taken by bands of robbers and deserters from both parties, -who haunted the ruined villages about Poitiers, and preyed upon all who -dared to pass. To add to our perils, the royal army under the Duke of -Nevers was reported to be moving slowly southward, not very far to the -left of our road; while a Huguenot expedition against Niort was also in -progress within a few leagues of us. - -With four staunch and trustworthy comrades at my back, I might have -faced even this situation with a smile and a light heart; but the -knowledge that my four knaves might mutiny at any moment, or, worse -still, rid themselves of me and all restraint by a single treacherous -blow such as Fresnoy had aimed at me, filled me with an ever-present -dread; which it taxed my utmost energies to hide from them, and which I -strove in vain to conceal from mademoiselle's keener vision. - -Whether it was this had an effect upon her, giving her a meaner opinion -of me than that which I had for a while hoped she entertained, or that -she began, now it was too late, to regret her flight and resent my -part in it, I scarcely know; but from daybreak onwards she assumed an -attitude of cold suspicion towards me, which was only less unpleasant -than the scornful distance of her manner when she deigned, which was -seldom, to address me. - -Not once did she allow me to forget that I was in her eyes a needy -adventurer, paid by her friends to escort her to a place of safety, but -without any claim to the smallest privilege of intimacy or equality. -When I would have adjusted her saddle, she bade her woman come and hold -up her skirt, that my hands might not touch its hem even by accident. -And when I would have brought wine to her at Melle, where we stayed for -twenty minutes, she called Fanchette to hand it to her. She rode for -the most part in her mask; and with her woman. One good effect only her -pride and reserve had; they impressed our men with a strong sense of -her importance, and the danger to which any interference with her might -expose them. - -The two men whom Fresnoy had enlisted I directed to ride a score of -paces in advance. Luke and John I placed in the rear. In this manner -I thought to keep them somewhat apart. For myself, I proposed to ride -abreast of mademoiselle, but she made it so clear that my neighbourhood -displeased her that I fell back, leaving her to ride with Fanchette; and -contented myself with plodding at their heels, and striving to attach -the later evangelists to my interests. - -We were so fortunate, despite my fears, as to find the road nearly -deserted--as, alas, was much of the country on either side--and to meet -none but small parties travelling along it; who were glad enough, seeing -the villainous looks of our outriders, to give us a wide berth, and be -quit of us for the fright. We skirted Lusignan, shunning the streets, -but passing near enough for me to point out to mademoiselle the site of -the famous tower built, according to tradition, by the fairy Melusina, -and rased thirteen years back by the Leaguers. She received my -information so frigidly, however, that I offered no more, but fell back -shrugging my shoulders, and rode in silence, until, some two hours after -noon, the city of Poitiers came into sight, lying within its circle of -walls and towers on a low hill in the middle of a country clothed in -summer with rich vineyards, but now brown and bare and cheerless to the -eye. - -Fanchette turned and asked me abruptly if that were Poitiers. - -I answered that it was, but added that for certain reasons I proposed -not to halt, but to lie at a village a league beyond the city, where -there was a tolerable inn. - -'We shall do very well here,' the woman answered rudely. 'Any way, my -lady will go no farther. She is tired and cold, and wet besides, and has -gone far enough.' - -'Still,' I answered, nettled by the woman's familiarity, 'I think -mademoiselle will change her mind when she hears my reasons for going -farther.' - -'Mademoiselle does not wish to hear them, sir,' the lady replied -herself, and very sharply. - -'Nevertheless, I think you had better hear them,' I persisted, turning -to her respectfully. 'You see, mademoiselle--' - -'I see only one thing, sir,' she exclaimed, snatching off her mask and -displaying a countenance beautiful indeed, but flushed for the moment -with anger and impatience, 'that, whatever betides, I stay at Poitiers -to-night.' - -'If it would content you to rest an hour?' I suggested gently. - -'It will not content me!' she rejoined with spirit. 'And let me tell -you, sir,' she went on impetuously, 'once for all, that you take too -much upon yourself. You are here to escort me, and to give orders to -these ragamuffins, for they are nothing better, with whom you have -thought fit to disgrace our company; but not to give orders to me or -to control my movements. Confine yourself for the future, sir, to your -duties, if you please.' - -'I desire only to obey you,' I answered, suppressing the angry feelings -which rose in my breast, and speaking as coolly as lay in my power. -'But, as the first of my duties is to provide for your safety, I am -determined to omit nothing which can conduce to that end. You have not -considered that, if a party in pursuit of us reaches Poitiers to-night, -search will be made for us in the city, and we shall be taken. If, on -the other hand, we are known to have passed through, the hunt may go no -farther; certainly will go no farther to-night. Therefore we must not, -mademoiselle,' I added firmly, 'lie in Poitiers to-night.' - -'Sir,' she exclaimed, looking at me, her face crimson with wonder and -indignation, 'do you dare to--?' - -'I dare do my duty, mademoiselle,' I answered, plucking up a spirit, -though my heart was sore. 'I am a man old enough to be your father, and -with little to lose, or I had not been here. I care nothing what you -think or what you say of me, provided I can do what I have undertaken -to do and place you safely in the hands of your friends. But enough, -mademoiselle, we are at the gate. If you will permit me, I will ride -through the streets beside you. We shall so attract less attention.' - -Without waiting for a permission which she was very unlikely to give, -I pushed my horse forward, and took my place beside her, signing to -Fanchette to fall back. The maid obeyed, speechless with indignation; -while mademoiselle flashed a scathing glance at me and looked round in -helpless anger, as though it was in her mind to appeal against me even -to the passers-by. But she thought better of it, and contenting herself -with muttering the word 'Impertinent' put on her mask with fingers which -trembled, I fancy, not a little. - -A small rain was falling and the afternoon was well advanced when we -entered the town, but I noticed that, notwithstanding this, the streets -presented a busy and animated appearance, being full of knots of people -engaged in earnest talk. A bell was tolling somewhere, and near the -cathedral a crowd of no little size was standing, listening to a man -who seemed to be rending a placard or manifesto attached to the wall. In -another place a soldier, wearing the crimson colours of the League, -but splashed and stained as with recent travel, was holding forth to -a breathless circle who seemed to hang upon his lips. A neighbouring -corner sheltered a handful of priests who whispered together with gloomy -faces. Many stared at us as we passed, and some would have spoken; but I -rode steadily on, inviting no converse. Nevertheless at the north gate I -got a rare fright; for, though it wanted a full half-hour of sunset, -the porter was in the act of closing it. Seeing us, he waited grumbling -until we came up, and then muttered, in answer to my remonstrance, -something about queer times and wilful people having their way. I -took little notice of what he said, however, being anxious only to get -through the gate and leave as few traces of our passage as might be. - -As soon as we were outside the town I fell back, permitting Fanchette to -take my place. For another league, a long and dreary one, we plodded -on in silence, horses and men alike jaded and sullen, and the women -scarcely able to keep their saddles for fatigue. At last, much to my -relief, seeing that I began to fear I had taxed mademoiselle's strength -too far, the long low buildings of the inn at which I proposed to stay -came in sight, at the crossing of the road and river. The place looked -blank and cheerless, for the dusk was thickening; but as we trailed one -by one into the courtyard a stream of firelight burst on us from doors -and windows, and a dozen sounds of life and comfort greeted our ears. - -Noticing that mademoiselle was benumbed and cramped with long sitting, I -would have helped her to dismount; but she fiercely rejected my aid, and -I had to content myself with requesting the landlord to assign the best -accommodation he had to the lady and her attendant, and secure as much -privacy for them as possible. The man assented very civilly and said all -should be done; but I noticed that his eyes wandered while I talked, and -that he seemed to have something on his mind. When he returned, after -disposing of them, it came out. - -'Did you ever happen to see him, sir?' he asked with a sigh; yet was -there a smug air of pleasure mingled with his melancholy. - -'See whom?' I answered, staring at him, for neither of us had mentioned -any one. - -'The Duke, sir.' - -I stared again between wonder and suspicion. 'The Duke of Nevers is not -in this part, is he?' I said slowly. 'I heard he was on the Brittany -border, away to the westward.' - -'Mon Dieu!' my host exclaimed, raising his hands in astonishment. 'You -have not heard, sir?' - -'I have heard nothing,' I answered impatiently. - -'You have not heard, sir, that the most puissant and illustrious lord -the Duke of Guise is dead?' - -'M. de Guise dead? It is not true!' I cried astonished. - -He nodded, however, several times with an air of great importance, and -seemed as if he would have gone on to give me some particulars. But, -remembering, as I fancied, that he spoke in the hearing of half-a-dozen -guests who sat about the great fire behind me, and had both eyes and -ears open, he contented himself with shifting his towel to his other arm -and adding only, 'Yes, sir, dead as any nail. The news came through here -yesterday, and made a pretty stir. It happened at Blois the day but one -before Christmas, if all be true.' - -I was thunderstruck. This was news which might change the face of -France. 'How did it happen?' I asked. - -My host covered his mouth with his hand and coughed, and, privily -twitching my sleeve, gave me to understand with some shamefacedness -that he could not say more in public. I was about to make some excuse to -retire with him, when a harsh voice, addressed apparently to me, caused -me to turn sharply. I found at my elbow a tall thin-faced monk in the -habit of the Jacobin order. He had risen from his seat beside the fire, -and seemed to be labouring under great excitement. - -'Who asked how it happened?' he cried, rolling his eyes in a kind of -frenzy, while still observant, or I was much mistaken, of his listeners. -Is there a man in France to whom the tale has not been told? Is there?' - -'I will answer for one,' I replied, regarding him with little favour. 'I -have heard nothing.' - -'Then you shall! Listen!' he exclaimed, raising his right hand and -brandishing it as though he denounced a person then present. 'Hear my -accusation, made in the name of Mother Church and the saints against -the arch hypocrite, the perjurer and assassin sitting in high places! He -shall be Anathema Maranatha, for he has shed the blood of the holy and -the pure, the chosen of Heaven! He shall go down to the pit, and that -soon. The blood that he has shed shall be required of him, and that -before he is one year older.' - -'Tut-tut. All that sounds very fine, good father,' I said, waxing -impatient, and a little scornful; for I saw that he was one of those -wandering and often crazy monks in whom the League found their most -useful emissaries. 'But I should profit more by your gentle words, if I -knew whom you were cursing.' - -'The man of blood!' he cried; 'through whom the last but not the least -of God's saints and martyrs entered into glory on the Friday before -Christmas.' - -Moved by such profanity, and judging him, notwithstanding the -extravagance of his words and gestures, to be less mad than he seemed, -and at least as much knave as fool, I bade him sternly have done with -his cursing, and proceed to his story if he had one. - -He glowered at me for a moment, as though he were minded to launch -his spiritual weapons at my head; but as I returned his glare with an -unmoved eye--and my four rascals, who were as impatient as myself to -learn the news, and had scarce more reverence for a shaven crown, began -to murmur--he thought better of it, and cooling as suddenly as he had -flamed up, lost no more time in satisfying our curiosity. - -It would ill become me, however, to set down the extravagant and often -blasphemous harangue in which, styling M. de Guise the martyr of God, he -told the story now so familiar--the story of that dark wintry morning -at Blois, when the king's messenger, knocking early at the duke's door, -bade him hurry, for the king wanted him. The story is trite enough now. -When I heard it first in the inn on the Clain, it was all new and all -marvellous. - -The monk, too, telling the story as if he had seen the events with his -own eyes, omitted nothing which might impress his hearers. He told us -how the duke received warning after warning, and answered in the very -antechamber, 'He dare not!' How his blood, mysteriously advised of -coming dissolution, grew chill, and his eye, wounded at Chateau Thierry, -began to run, so that he had to send for the handkerchief he had -forgotten to bring. He told us, even, how the duke drew his assassins up -and down the chamber, how he cried for mercy, and how he died at last -at the foot of the king's bed, and how the king, who had never dared to -face him living, came and spurned him dead! - -There were pale faces round the fire when he ceased, and bent brows -and lips hard pressed together. Then he stood and cursed the King of -France--cursing him openly by the name of Henry of Valois, a thing I -had never looked to hear in France--though no one said 'Amen,' and all -glanced over their shoulders, and our host pattered from the room as if -he had seen a ghost, it seemed to be no man's duty to gainsay him. - -For myself, I was full of thoughts which it would have been unsafe to -utter in that company or so near the Loire. I looked back sixteen years. -Who but Henry of Guise had spurned the corpse of Coligny? And who but -Henry of Valois had backed him in the act? Who but Henry of Guise had -drenched Paris with blood, and who but Henry of Valois had ridden by -his side? One 23rd of the month--a day never to be erased from France's -annals--had purchased for him a term of greatness. A second 23rd saw -him, pay the price--saw his ashes cast secretly and by night no man -knows where! - -Moved by such thoughts, and observing that the priest was going the -round of the company collecting money for masses for the duke's soul, -to which object I could neither give with a good conscience nor refuse -without exciting suspicion, I slipped out; and finding a man of decent -appearance talking with the landlord in a small room beside the kitchen, -I called for a flask of the best wine, and by means of that introduction -obtained my supper in their company. - -The stranger was a Norman horsedealer, returning home, after disposing -of his string. He seemed to be in a large way of business, and being of -a bluff, independent spirit, as many of those Norman townsmen are, was -inclined at first to treat me with more familiarity than respect; the -fact of my nag, for which he would have chaffered, excelling my coat -in quality, leading him to set me down as a steward or intendant. The -pursuit of his trade, however, had brought him into connection with all -classes of men and he quickly perceived his mistake; and as he knew the -provinces between the Seine and Loire to perfection, and made it part of -his business to foresee the chances of peace and war, I obtained a great -amount of information from him, and indeed conceived no little liking -for him. He believed that the assassination of M. de Guise would -alienate so much of France from the king that his majesty would have -little left save the towns on the Loire, and some other places lying -within easy reach of his court at Blois. - -'But,' I said,'things seem quiet now. Here, for instance.' - -'It is the calm before the storm,' he answered. 'There is a monk in -there. Have you heard him?' - -I nodded. - -'He is only one among a hundred--a thousand,' the horsedealer continued, -looking at me and nodding with meaning. He was a brown-haired man with -shrewd grey eyes, such as many Normans have. 'They will get their way -too, you will see,' he went on. 'Well, horses will go up, so I have no -cause to grumble; but, if I were on my way to Blois with women or gear -of that kind, I should not choose this time for picking posies on the -road. I should see the inside of the gates as soon as possible.' - -I thought there was much in what he said; and when he went on to -maintain that the king would find himself between the hammer and the -anvil--between the League holding all the north and the Huguenots -holding all the south--and must needs in time come to terms with the -latter seeing that the former would rest content with nothing short of -his deposition, I began to agree with him that we should shortly see -great changes and very stirring times. - -'Still if they depose the king,' I said, 'the King of Navarre must -succeed him. He is the heir of France.' - -'Bah!' my companion replied somewhat contemptuously. 'The League will -see to that. He goes with the other.' - -'Then the kings are in one cry, and you are right,' I said with -conviction. 'They must unite.' - -'So they will. It is only a question of time,' he said. - -In the morning, having only one man with him, and, as I guessed, a -considerable sum of money, he volunteered to join our party as far as -Blois. I assented gladly, and he did so, this addition to our numbers -ridding me at once of the greater part of my fears. I did not expect any -opposition on the part of mademoiselle, who would gain in consequence as -well as in safety. Nor did she offer any. She was content, I think, -to welcome any addition to our party which would save her from the -necessity of riding in the company of my old cloak. - - - -CHAPTER VI. MY MOTHER'S LODGING. - -Travelling by way of Chatelherault and Tours, we reached the -neighbourhood of Blois a little after noon on the third day without -misadventure or any intimation of pursuit. The Norman proved himself -a cheerful companion on the road, as I already knew him to be a man of -sense and shrewdness while his presence rendered the task of keeping -my men in order an easy one. I began to consider the adventure as -practically achieved; and regarding Mademoiselle de la Vire as already -in effect transferred to the care of M. de Rosny, I ventured to turn my -thoughts to the development of my own plans and the choice of a haven in -which I might rest secure from the vengeance of M. de Turenne. - -For the moment I had evaded his pursuit, and, assisted by the confusion -caused everywhere by the death of Guise had succeeded in thwarting his -plans and affronting his authority with seeming ease. But I knew too -much of his power and had heard too many instances of his fierce temper -and resolute will to presume on short impunity or to expect the future -with anything but diffidence and dismay. - -The exclamations of my companions on coming within sight of Blois -aroused me from these reflections. I joined them, and fully shared their -emotion as I gazed on the stately towers which had witnessed so many -royal festivities, and, alas! one royal tragedy; which had sheltered -Louis the Well-beloved and Francis the Great, and rung with the laughter -of Diana of Poitiers and the second Henry. The play of fancy wreathed -the sombre building with a hundred memories grave and gay. But, though -the rich plain of the Loire still swelled upward as of old in gentle -homage at the feet of the gallant town, the shadow of crime seemed to -darken all, and dim even the glories of the royal standard which hung -idly in the air. - -We had heard so many reports of the fear and suspicion which reigned in -the city and of the strict supervision which was exercised over all -who entered--the king dreading a repetition of the day of the -Barricades--that we halted at a little inn a mile short of the gate -and broke up our company. I parted from my Norman friend with mutual -expressions of esteem, and from my own men, whom I had paid off in the -morning, complimenting each of them with a handsome present, with a -feeling of relief equally sincere. I hoped--but the hope was not fated -to be gratified--that I might never see the knaves again. - -It wanted less than an hour of sunset when I rode up to the gate, a few -paces in front of mademoiselle and her woman; as if I had really been -the intendant for whom the horse-dealer had mistaken me. We found the -guardhouse lined with soldiers, who scanned us very narrowly as we -approached, and whose stern features and ordered weapons showed that -they were not there for mere effect. The fact, however, that we came -from Tours, a city still in the king's hands, served to allay suspicion, -and we passed without accident. - -Once in the streets, and riding in single file between the houses, -to the windows of which the townsfolk seemed to be attracted by the -slightest commotion, so full of terror was the air, I experienced a -moment of huge relief. This was Blois--Blois at last. We were within a -few score yards of the Bleeding Heart. In a few minutes I should receive -a quittance, and be free to think only of myself. - -Nor was my pleasure much lessened by the fact that I was so soon to -part from Mademoiselle de la Vire. Frankly, I was far from liking her. -Exposure to the air of a court had spoiled, it seemed to me, whatever -graces of disposition the young lady had ever possessed. She still -maintained, and had maintained throughout the journey, the cold and -suspicious attitude assumed at starting; nor had she ever expressed -the least solicitude on my behalf, or the slightest sense that we were -incurring danger in her service. She had not scrupled constantly to -prefer her whims to the common advantage, and even safety; while her -sense of self-importance had come to be so great, that she seemed to -hold herself exempt from the duty of thanking any human creature. I -could not deny that she was beautiful--indeed, I often thought, when -watching her, of the day when I had seen her in the King of Navarre's -antechamber in all the glory of her charms. But I felt none the less -that I could turn my back on her--leaving her in safety--without regret; -and be thankful that her path would never again cross mine. - -With such thoughts in my breast I turned the corner of the Rue de -St. Denys and came at once upon the Bleeding Heart, a small but -decent-looking hostelry situate near the end of the street and opposite -a church. A bluff grey-haired man, who was standing in the doorway, came -forward as we halted, and looking curiously at mademoiselle asked what I -lacked; adding civilly that the house was full and they had no sleeping -room, the late events having drawn a great assemblage to Blois. - -'I want only an address,' I answered, leaning from the saddle and -speaking in a low voice that I might not be overheard by the passers-by. -'The Baron de Rosny is in Blois, is he not?' - -The man started at the name of the Huguenot leader, and looked round him -nervously. But, seeing that no one was very near us, he answered: 'He -was, sir; but he left town a week ago and more. 'There have been strange -doings here, and M. de Rosny thought that the climate suited him ill.' - -He said this with so much meaning, as well as concern that he should not -be overheard, that, though I was taken aback and bitterly disappointed, -I succeeded in restraining all exclamations and even show of feeling. -After a pause of dismay, I asked whither M. de Rosny had gone. - -'To Rosny,' was the answer. - -'And Rosny?' - -'Is beyond Chartres, pretty well all the way to Mantes,' the man -answered, stroking my horse's neck. 'Say thirty leagues.' - -I turned my horse, and hurriedly communicated what he said to -mademoiselle, who was waiting a few paces away. Unwelcome to me, the -news was still less welcome to her. Her chagrin and indignation knew no -bounds. For a moment words failed her, but her flashing eyes said more -than her tongue as she cried to me: 'Well, sir, and what now? Is this -the end of your fine promises? Where is your Rosny, if all be not a -lying invention of your own?' - -Feeling that she had some excuse I suppressed my choler, and humbly -repeating that Rosny was at his house, two days farther on, and that I -could see nothing for it but to go to him, I asked the landlord where we -could find a lodging for the night. - -'Indeed, sir, that is more than I can say,' he answered, looking -curiously at us, and thinking, I doubt not, that with my shabby cloak -and fine horse, and mademoiselle's mask and spattered riding-coat, -we were an odd couple. 'There is not an inn which is not full to the -garrets--nay, and the stables; and, what is more, people are chary of -taking strangers in. These are strange times. They say,' be continued in -a lower tone, 'that the old queen is dying up there, and will not last -the night.' - -I nodded. 'We must go somewhere' I said. - -'I would help you if I could,' he answered, shrugging his shoulders. -'But there it is! Blois is full from the tiles to the cellars.' - -My horse shivered under me, and mademoiselle, whose patience was gone, -cried harshly to me to do something. 'We cannot spend the night in the -streets,' she said fiercely. - -I saw that she was worn out and scarcely mistress of herself. The light -was falling, and with it some rain. The reek of the kennels and the -close air from the houses seemed to stifle us. The bell at the church -behind us was jangling out vespers. A few people, attracted by the -sight of our horses standing before the inn, had gathered round and were -watching us. - -Something I saw must be done, and done quickly. In despair, and seeing -no other resort, I broached a proposal of which I had not hitherto -even dreamed. 'Mademoiselle,' I said bluntly, 'I must take you to my -mother's.' - -'To your mother's, sir?' she cried, rousing herself. Her voice rang with -haughty surprise. - -'Yes,' I replied brusquely; 'since, as you say, we cannot spend the -night in the streets, and I do not know where else I can dispose of you. -From the last advices I had I believe her to have followed the court -hither. My friend,' I continued, turning to the landlord, 'do you know -by name a Madame de Bonne, who should be in Blois?' - -'A Madame de Bonne!' he muttered, reflecting. 'I have heard the name -lately. Wait a moment.' Disappearing into the house, he returned almost -immediately, followed by a lanky pale-faced youth wearing a tattered -black soutane. 'Yes,' he said nodding, 'there is a worthy lady of that -name lodging in the next street, I am told. As it happens, this young -man lives in the same house, and will guide you, if you like.' - -I assented, and, thanking him for his information, turned my horse and -requested the youth to lead the way. We had scarcely passed the corner -of the street, however, and entered one somewhat more narrow and less -frequented, when mademoiselle, who was riding behind me, stopped and -called to me. I drew rein, and, turning, asked what it was. - -'I am not coming,' she said, her voice trembling slightly, but whether -with alarm or anger I could not determine. 'I know nothing of you, and -I--I demand to be taken to M. de Rosny.' - -'If you cry that name aloud in the streets of Blois, mademoiselle,' I -retorted, 'you are like enough to be taken whither you will not care to -go! As for M. de Rosny, I have told you that he is not here. He has gone -to his seat at Mantes.' - -'Then take me to him!' - -'At this hour of the night?' I said drily. 'It is two days' journey from -here.' - -'Then I will go to an inn,' she replied sullenly. - -'You have heard that there is no room in the inns' I rejoined with what -patience I could. 'And to go from inn to inn at this hour might lead us -into trouble. I can assure you that I am as much taken aback by M. de -Rosny's absence as you are. For the present, we are close to my mother's -lodging, and--' - -'I know nothing of your mother!' she exclaimed passionately, her voice -raised. 'You have enticed me hither by false pretences, sir, and I will -endure it no longer. I will--' - -'What you will do, I do not know then, mademoiselle,' I replied, quite -at my wits' end; for what with the rain and the darkness, the unknown -streets--in which our tarrying might at any moment collect a crowd--and -this stubborn girl's opposition, I knew not whither to turn. 'For my -part I can suggest nothing else. It does not become me to speak of my -mother,' I continued, 'or I might say that even Mademoiselle de la Vire -need not be ashamed to accept the hospitality of Madame de Bonne. Nor -are my mother's circumstances,' I added proudly, 'though narrow, so mean -as to deprive her of the privileges of her birth.' - -My last words appeared to make some impression upon my companion. She -turned and spoke to her woman, who replied in a low voice, tossing her -head the while and glaring at me in speechless indignation. Had there -been anything else for it, they would doubtless have flouted my offer -still; but apparently Fanchette could suggest nothing, and presently -mademoiselle, with a sullen air, bade me lead on. - -Taking this for permission, the lanky youth in the black soutane, who -had remained at my bridle throughout the discussion, now listening -and now staring, nodded and resumed his way; and I followed. After -proceeding a little more than fifty yards he stopped before a -mean-looking doorway, flanked by grated windows, and fronted by a lofty -wall which I took to be the back of some nobleman's garden. The street -at this point was unlighted, and little better than an alley; nor was -the appearance of the house, which was narrow and ill-looking, though -lofty, calculated, as far as I could make it out is the darkness, -to allay mademoiselle's suspicions. Knowing, however, that people of -position are often obliged in towns to lodge in poor houses, I thought -nothing of this, and only strove to get mademoiselle dismounted as -quickly as possible. The lad groped about and found two rings beside the -door, and to these I tied up the horses. Then, bidding him lead the way, -and begging mademoiselle to follow, I plunged into the darkness of the -passage and felt my way to the foot of the staircase, which was entirely -unlighted, and smelled close and unpleasant. - -'Which floor?' I asked my guide. - -'The fourth,' he answered quietly. - -'Morbleu!' I muttered, as I began to ascend, my hand on the wall. 'What -is the meaning of this?' - -For I was perplexed. The revenues of Marsac, though small, should have -kept my mother, whom I had last seen in Paris before the Nemours -edict, in tolerable comfort--such modest comfort, at any rate, as could -scarcely be looked for in such a house as this--obscure, ill-tended, -unlighted. To my perplexity was added, before I reached the top of -the stairs, disquietude--disquietude on her account as well as on -mademoiselle's. I felt that something was wrong, and would have given -much to recall the invitation I had pressed on the latter. - -What the young lady thought herself I could pretty well guess, as I -listened to her hurried breathing at my shoulder. With every step I -expected her to refuse to go farther. But, having once made up her -mind, she followed me stubbornly, though the darkness was such that -involuntarily I loosened my dagger, and prepared to defend myself should -this turn out to be a trap. - -We reached the top, however, without accident. Our guide knocked softly -at a door and immediately opened it without waiting for an answer. A -feeble light shone out on the stair-head, and bending my head, for the -lintel was low, I stepped into the room. - -I advanced two paces and stood looking about me in angry bewilderment. -The bareness of extreme poverty marked everything on which my eyes -rested. A cracked earthenware lamp smoked and sputtered on a stool in -the middle of the rotting floor. An old black cloak nailed to the wall, -and flapping to and fro in the draught like some dead gallowsbird, hung -in front of the unglazed window. A jar in a corner caught the drippings -from a hole in the roof. An iron pot and a second stool--the latter -casting a long shadow across the floor--stood beside the handful of wood -ashes, which smouldered on the hearth. And that was all the furniture I -saw, except a bed which filled the farther end of the long narrow room, -and was curtained off so as to form a kind of miserable alcove. - -A glance sufficed to show me all this, and that the room was empty, -or apparently empty. Yet I looked again and again, stupefied. At last -finding my voice, I turned to the young man who had brought us hither, -and with a fierce oath demanded of him what he meant. - -He shrank back behind the open door, and yet; answered with a kind of -sullen surprise that I had asked for Madame de Bonne's, and this was it. - -'Madame de Bonne's!' I muttered. 'This Madame de Bonne's!' - -He nodded. - -'Of course it is! And you know it!' mademoiselle hissed in my ear, her -voice, as she interposed, hoarse with passion. 'Don't think that you can -deceive us any longer. We know all! This,' she continued, looking round, -her cheeks scarlet, her eyes ablaze with scorn, 'is your mother's, -is it! Your mother who has followed the court hither--whose means are -narrow, but not so small as to deprive her of the privileges of her -rank! This is your mother's hospitality, is it? You are a cheat, sir! -and a detected cheat! Let us begone! Let me go, sir, I say!' - -Twice I had tried to stop the current of her words; but in vain. Now -with anger which surpassed hers a hundredfold--for who, being a man, -would hear himself misnamed before his mother?--I succeeded, 'Silence, -mademoiselle!' I cried, my grasp on her wrist. 'Silence, I say! This is -my mother!' - -And running forward to the bed, I fell on my knees beside it. A feeble -hand had half withdrawn the curtain, and through the gap my mother's -stricken face looked out, a great fear stamped upon it. - - - -CHAPTER VII. SIMON FLEIX - -For some minutes I forgot mademoiselle in paying those assiduous -attentions to my mother which her state and my duty demanded; and which -I offered the more anxiously that I recognised, with a sinking heart, -the changes which age and illness had made in her since my last visit. -The shock of mademoiselle's words had thrown her into a syncope, from -which she did not recover for some time; and then rather through the -assistance of our strange guide, who seemed well aware what to do, than -through my efforts. Anxious as I was to learn what had reduced her -to such straits and such a place, this was not the time to satisfy my -curiosity, and I prepared myself instead for the task of effacing the -painful impression which mademoiselle's words had made on her mind. - -On first coming to herself she did not remember them, but, content to -find me by her side--for there is something so alchemic in a mother's -love that I doubt not my presence changed her garret to a palace--she -spent herself in feeble caresses and broken words. Presently, however, -her eye falling on mademoiselle and her maid, who remained standing by -the hearth, looking darkly at us from time to time, she recalled, first -the shock which had prostrated her, and then its cause, and raising -herself on her elbow, looked about her wildly. 'Gaston!' she cried, -clutching my hand with her thin fingers, 'what was it I heard? It was of -you someone spoke--a woman! She called you--or did I dream it?--a cheat! -You!' - -'Madame, madame,' I said, striving to speak carelessly, though the -sight; of her grey hair, straggling and dishevelled, moved me strangely, -'was it; likely? Would anyone dare to use such expressions of me is your -presence? You must indeed have dreamed it!' - -The words, however, returning more and more vividly to her mind, she -looked at me very pitifully, and in great agitation laid her arm on my -neck, as though she would shelter me with the puny strength which just -enabled her to rise in bed. 'But someone,' she muttered, her eyes on the -strangers, 'said it, Gaston? I heard it. What did it mean?' - -'What you heard, madame,' I answered, with an attempt at gaiety, though -the tears stood in my eyes, 'was, doubtless, mademoiselle here scolding -our guide from Tours, who demanded three times the proper POURBOIRE. The -impudent rascal deserved all that was said to him, I assure you.' - -'Was that it?' she murmured doubtfully. - -'That must have been what you heard, madame,' I answered, as if I felt -no doubt. - -She fell back with a sigh of relief, and a little colour came into her -wan face. But her eyes still dwelt curiously, and with apprehension, on -mademoiselle, who stood looking sullenly into the fire; and seeing this -my heart misgave me sorely that I had done a foolish thing in bringing -the girl there. I foresaw a hundred questions which would be asked, and -a hundred complications which must ensue, and felt already the blush of -shame mounting to my cheek. - -'Who is that?' my mother asked softly. 'I am ill. She must excuse me.' -She pointed with her fragile finger to my companions. - -I rose, and still keeping her hand in mine, turned so as to face the -hearth. 'This, madame,' I answered formally, 'is Mademoiselle--, but her -name I will commit to you later, and in private. Suffice it to say that -she is a lady of rank, who has been committed to my charge by a high -personage.' - -'A high personage?' my mother repeated gently, glancing at me with a -smile of gratification. - -'One of the highest,' I said, 'Such a charge being a great honour to me, -I felt that I could not better execute it madame, since we must lie in -Blois one night, than by requesting your hospitality on her behalf.' - -I dared mademoiselle as I spoke--I dared her with my eye to contradict -or interrupt me. For answer, she looked at me once, inclining her head a -little, and gazing at us from under her long eyelashes. Then she turned -back to the fire, and her foot resumed its angry tapping on the floor. - -'I regret that I cannot receive her better,' my mother answered feebly. -'I have had losses of late. I--but I will speak of that at another time. -Mademoiselle doubtless knows,' she continued with dignity, 'you and your -position in the south too well to think ill of the momentary straits to -which she finds me reduced.' - -I saw mademoiselle start, and I writhed under the glance of covert -scorn, of amazed indignation, which she shot at me. But my mother gently -patting my hand, I answered patiently, 'Mademoiselle will think only -what is kind, madame--of that I am assured. And lodgings are scarce -to-night in Blois.' - -'But tell me of yourself, Gaston,' my mother cried eagerly; and I had -not the heart, with her touch on my hand, her eyes on my face, to tear -myself away, much as I dreaded what was coming, and longed to end the -scene. 'Tell me of yourself. You are still in favour with the king of--I -will not name him here?' - -'Still, madame,' I answered, looking steadily at mademoiselle, though my -face burned. - -'You are still--he consults you, Gaston?' - -'Still, madame.' - -My mother heaved a happy sigh, and sank lower in the bed. 'And your -employments?' she murmured, her voice trembling with gratification. -'They have not been reduced? You still retain them, Gaston?' - -'Still, madame,' I answered, the perspiration standing on my brow, my -shame almost more than I could bear. - -'Twelve thousand livres a year, I think?' - -'The same, madame.' - -'And your establishment? How many do you keep now? Your valet, of -course? And lackeys--how many at present?' She glanced, with an eye of -pride, while she waited for my answer, first at the two silent figures -by the fire, then at the poverty-stricken room; as if the sight of its -bareness heightened for her the joy of my prosperity. - -She had no suspicion of my trouble, my misery, or that the last question -almost filled the cup too full. Hitherto all had been easy, but this -seemed to choke me. I stammered and lost my voice. Mademoiselle, her -head bowed, was gazing into the fire. Fanchette was staring at me, her -black eyes round as saucers, her mouth half-open. 'Well, madame,' -I muttered at length, 'to tell you the truth, at present, you must -understand, I have been forced to--' - -'What, Gaston?' Madame de Bonne half rose in bed. Her voice was sharp -with disappointment and apprehension; the grasp of her fingers on my -hand grew closer. - -I could not resist that appeal. I flung away the last rag of shame. -'To reduce my establishment somewhat,' I answered, looking a miserable -defiance at mademoiselle's averted figure. She had called me a liar and -a cheat--here in the room! I must stand before her a liar and a cheat -confessed. 'I keep but three lackeys now, madame.' - -Still it is creditable,' my mother muttered thoughtfully, her eyes -shining. 'Your dress, however, Gaston--only my eyes are weak--seems to -me--' - -'Tut, tut! It is but a disguise,' I answered quickly. - -'I might have known that,' she rejoined, sinking back with a smile and -a sigh of content. 'But when I first saw you I was almost afraid that -something had happened to you. And I have been uneasy lately,' she -went on, releasing my hand, and beginning to play with the coverlet, -as though the remembrance troubled her. 'There was a man here a while -ago--a friend of Simon Fleix there--who had been south to Pau and Nerac, -and he said there was no M. de Marsac about the Court.' - -'He probably knew less of the Court than the wine-tavern,' I answered -with a ghastly smile. - -'That was just what I told him,' my mother responded quickly and -eagerly. 'I warrant you I sent him away ill-satisfied.' - -'Of course,' I said; 'there will always be people of that kind. But -now, if you will permit me, madame, I will make such arrangements for -mademoiselle as are necessary.' - -Begging her accordingly to lie down and compose herself--for even so -short a conversation, following on the excitement of our arrival, -had exhausted her to a painful degree--I took the youth, who had just -returned from stabling our horses, a little aside, and learning that he -lodged in a smaller chamber on the farther side of the landing, secured -it for the use of mademoiselle and her woman. In spite of a certain -excitability which marked him at times, he seemed to be a quick, ready -fellow, and he willingly undertook to go out, late as it was, and -procure some provisions and a few other things which were sadly needed, -as well for my mother's comfort as for our own. I directed Fanchette to -aid him in the preparation of the other chamber, and thus for a while I -was left alone with mademoiselle. She had taken one of the stools, and -sat cowering over the fire, the hood of her cloak drawn about her head; -in such a manner that even when she looked at me, which she did from -time to time, I saw little more than her eyes, bright with contemptuous -anger. - -'So, sir,' she presently began, speaking in a low voice, and turning -slightly towards me, 'you practise lying even here?' - -I felt so strongly the futility of denial or explanation that I shrugged -my shoulders and remained silent under the sneer. Two more days--two -more days would take us to Rosny, and my task would be done, and -Mademoiselle and I would part for good and all. What would it matter -then what she thought of me? What did it matter now? - -For the first time in our intercourse my silence seemed to disconcert -and displease her. 'Have you nothing to say for yourself?' she muttered -sharply, crushing a fragment of charcoal under her foot, and stooping -to peer at the ashes. 'Have you not another lie in your quiver, M. de -Marsac?' De Marsac!' And she repeated the title, with a scornful laugh, -as if she put no faith in my claim to it. - -But I would answer nothing--nothing; and we remained silent until -Fanchette, coming in to say that the chamber was ready, held the light -for her mistress to pass out. I told the woman to come back and fetch -mademoiselle's supper, and then, being left alone with my mother, who -had fallen asleep, with a smile on her thin, worn face, I began to -wonder what had happened to reduce her to such dire poverty. - -I feared to agitate her by referring to it; but later in the evening, -when her curtains were drawn and Simon Fleix and I were left together, -eyeing one another across the embers like dogs of different breeds--with -a certain strangeness and suspicion--my thoughts recurred to the -question; and determining first to learn something about my companion, -whose pale, eager face and tattered, black dress gave him a certain -individuality, I asked him whether he had come from Paris with Madame de -Bonne. - -He nodded without speaking. - -I asked him if he had known her long. - -'Twelve months,' he answered. 'I lodged on the fifth, madame on the -second, floor of the same house in Paris.' - -I leaned forward and plucked the hem of his black robe. 'What is this?' -I said, with a little contempt. 'You are not a priest, man.' - -'No,' he answered, fingering the stuff himself, and gazing at me in a -curious, vacant fashion. 'I am a student of the Sorbonne.' - -I drew off from him with a muttered oath, wondering--while I looked at -him with suspicious eyes--how he came to be here, and particularly how -he came to be in attendance on my mother, who had been educated from -childhood in the Religion, and had professed it in private all her life. -I could think of no one who, in old days, would have been less welcome -in her house than a Sorbonnist, and began to fancy that here should lie -the secret of her miserable condition. - -'You don't like, the Sorbonne?' he said, reading my thoughts; which -were, indeed, plain enough. - -'No more than I love the devil!' I said bluntly. - -He leaned forward and, stretching out a thin, nervous hand, laid it -on my knee. 'What if they are right, though?' he muttered, his voice -hoarse. 'What if they are right, M. de Marsac?' - -'Who right?' I asked roughly, drawing back afresh. - -'The Sorbonne.' he repeated, his face red with excitement, his eyes -peering uncannily into mine. 'Don't you see,' he continued, pinching -my knee in his earnestness, and thrusting his face nearer and nearer -to mine, 'it all turns on that? It all turns on that--salvation or -damnation! Are they right? Are you right? You say yes to this, no to -that, you white-coats; and you say it lightly, but are you right? Are -you right? Mon Dieu!' he continued, drawing back abruptly and clawing -the air with impatience, 'I have read, read, read! I have listened to -sermons, theses, disputations, and I know nothing. I know no more than -when I began.' - -He sprang up and began to pace the floor, while I gazed at him with a -feeling of pity. A very learned person once told me that the troubles of -these times bred four kinds of men, who were much to be compassionated: -fanatics on the one side or the other, who lost sight of all else in the -intensity of their faith; men who, like Simon Fleix, sought desperately -after something to believe, and found it not; and lastly, scoffers, who, -believing in nothing, looked on all religion as a mockery. - -He presently stopped walking--in his utmost excitement I remarked that -he never forgot my mother, but trod more lightly when he drew near the -alcove--and spoke again. 'You are a Huguenot?' he said. - -'Yes,' I replied. - -'So is she,' he rejoined, pointing towards the bed. 'But do you feel no -doubts?' - -'None,' I said quietly. - -'Nor does she.' he answered again, stopping opposite me. You made up -your mind--how?' - -'I was born in the Religion,' I said. - -'And you have never questioned it?' - -'Never.' - -'Nor thought much about it?' - -'Not a great deal,' I answered. - -'Saint Gris!' he exclaimed in a low tone. 'And do you never think of -hell-fire--of the worm which dieth not, and the fire which shall not be -quenched? Do you never think of that, M. de Marsac?' - -'No, my friend, never!' I answered, rising impatiently; for at -that hour, and in that silent, gloomy room I found his conversation -dispiriting. 'I believe what I was taught to believe, and I strive to -hurt no one but the enemy. I think little; and if I were you I would -think less. I would do something, man--fight, play, work, anything but -think! I leave that to clerks.' - -'I am a clerk,' he answered. - -'A poor one, it seems,' I retorted, with a little scorn in my tone. -'Leave it, man. Work! Fight! Do something!' - -'Fight?' he said, as if the idea were a novel one. 'Fight? But there, I -might be killed; and then hell-fire, you see!' - -'Zounds, man!' I cried, out of patience with a folly which, to tell the -truth, the lamp burning low, and the rain pattering on the roof, made -the skin of my back feel cold and creepy. 'Enough of this! Keep your -doubts and your fire to yourself! And answer me,' I continued, sternly. -'How came Madame de Bonne so poor? How did she come down to this place?' - -He sat down on his stool, the excitement dying quickly out of his face. -'She gave away all her money,' he said slowly and reluctantly. It may be -imagined that this answer surprised me. 'Gave it away?' I exclaimed. 'To -whom? And when?' - -He moved uneasily on his seat and avoided my eye, his altered manner -filling me with suspicions which the insight I had just obtained into -his character did not altogether preclude. At last he said, 'I had -nothing to do with it, if you mean that; nothing. On the contrary, I -have done all I could to make it up to her. I followed her here. I swear -that is so, M. de Marsac.' - -'You have not told me yet to whom she gave it,' I said sternly. - -'She gave it,' he muttered, 'to a priest.' - -'To what priest?' - -'I do not know his name. He is a Jacobin.' - -'And why?' I asked, gazing incredulously at the student. 'Why did -she give it to him? Come, come! have a care. Let me have none of your -Sorbonne inventions!' - -He hesitated a moment, looking at me timidly, and then seemed to make up -his mind to tell me. 'He found out--it was when we lived in Paris, you -understand, last June--that she was a Huguenot. It was about the time -they burned the Foucards, and he frightened her with that, and made her -pay him money, a little at first, and then more and more, to keep her -secret. When the king came to Blois she followed his Majesty, thinking -to be safer here; but the priest came too, and got more money, and more, -until he left her--this.' - -'This!' I said. And I set my teeth together. - -Simon Fleix nodded. - -I looked round the wretched garret to which my mother had been reduced, -and pictured the days and hours of fear and suspense through which she -had lived; through which she must have lived, with that caitiff's threat -hanging over her grey head! I thought of her birth and her humiliation; -of her frail form and patient, undying love for me; and solemnly, and -before heaven, I swore that night to punish the man. My anger was too -great for words, and for tears I was too old. I asked Simon Fleix no -more questions, save when the priest might be looked for again--which -he could not tell me--and whether he would know him again--to which he -answered, 'Yes.' But, wrapping myself in my cloak, I lay down by the -fire and pondered long and sadly. - -So, while I had been pinching there, my mother had been starving here. -She had deceived me, and I her. The lamp flickered, throwing uncertain -shadows as the draught tossed the strange window-curtain to and fro. -The leakage from the roof fell drop by drop, and now and again the wind -shook the crazy building, as though it would lift it up bodily and carry -it away. - - - -CHAPTER VIII. AN EMPTY ROOM. - -Desiring to start as early as possible, that we might reach Rosny on the -second evening, I roused Simon Fleix before it was light, and learning -from him where the horses were stabled, went out to attend to them; -preferring to do this myself, that I might have an opportunity of -seeking out a tailor, and providing myself with clothes better suited to -my rank than those to which I had been reduced of late. I found that I -still had ninety crowns left of the sum which the King of Navarre had -given me, and twelve of these I laid out on a doublet of black cloth -with russet points and ribands, a dark cloak lined with the same -sober colour, and a new cap and feather. The tradesman would fain have -provided me with a new scabbard also, seeing my old one was worn-out at -the heel; but this I declined, having a fancy to go with my point bare -until I should have punished the scoundrel who had made my mother's -failing days a misery to her; a business which, the King of Navarre's -once done, I promised myself to pursue with energy and at all costs. - -The choice of my clothes, and a few alterations which it was necessary -to make in them, detained me some time, so that it was later than I -could have wished when I turned my face towards the house again, bent -on getting my party to horse as speedily as possible. The morning, -I remember, was bright, frosty, and cold; the kennels were dry, the -streets comparatively clean. Here and there a ray of early sunshine, -darting between the overhanging eaves, gave promise of glorious -travelling-weather. But the faces, I remarked in my walk, did not -reflect the surrounding cheerfulness. Moody looks met me everywhere and -on every side; and while courier after courier galloped by me bound for -the castle, the townsfolk stood aloof is doorways listless and inactive, -or, gathering in groups in corners, talked what I took to be treason -under the breath. The queen-mother still lived, but Orleans had -revolted, and Sens and Mans, Chartres and Melun. Rouen was said to be -wavering, Lyons in arms, while Paris had deposed her king, and cursed -him daily from a hundred altars. En fin, the great rebellion which -followed the death of Guise, and lasted so many years, was already in -progress; so that on this first day of the new year the king's writ -scarce ran farther than he could see, peering anxiously out from the -towers above my head. - -Reaching the house, I climbed the long staircase hastily, abusing its -darkness and foulness, and planning as I went how my mother might most -easily and quickly be moved to a better lodging. Gaining the top of the -last flight, I saw that mademoiselle's door on the left of the landing -was open, and concluding from this that she was up, and ready to start, -I entered my mother's room with a brisk step and spirits reinforced by -the crisp morning air. - -But on the threshold I stopped, and stood silent and amazed. At first I -thought the room was empty. Then, at a second glance, I saw the student. -He was on his knees beside the bed in the alcove, from which the curtain -had been partially dragged away. The curtain before the window had been -torn down also, and the cold light of day, pouring in on the unsightly -bareness of the room, struck a chill to my heart. A stool lay overturned -by the fire, and above it a grey cat, which I had not hitherto noticed, -crouched on a beam and eyed me with stealthy fierceness. Mademoiselle -was not to be seen, nor was Fanchette, and Simon Fleix did not hear me. -He was doing something at the bed--for my mother it seemed. - -'What is it, man?' I cried softly, advancing on tiptoe to the bedside. -'Where are the others?' - -The student looked round and saw me. His face was pale and gloomy. His -eyes burned, and yet there were tears in them, and on his cheeks. He did -not speak, but the chilliness, the bareness, the emptiness of the room -spoke for him, and my heart sank. - -I took him by the shoulders. 'Find your tongue, man!' I said angrily. -'Where are they?' - -He rose from his knees and stood staring at me. 'They are gone!' he said -stupidly. - -'Gone?' I exclaimed. 'Impossible! When? Whither?' - -'Half an hour ago. Whither--I do not know.' - -Confounded and amazed, I glared at him between fear and rage. 'You do -not know?' I cried. 'They are gone, and you do not know?' - -He turned suddenly on me and gripped my arm. 'No, I do not know! I do -not know!' he cried, with a complete change of manner and in a tone -of fierce excitement. 'Only, may the fiend go with them! But I do know -this. I know this, M. de Marsac, with whom they went, these friends of -yours! A fop came, a dolt, a fine spark, and gave them fine words and -fine speeches and a gold token, and, hey presto! they went, and forgot -you!' - -'What!' I cried, beginning to understand, and snatching fiercely at the -one clue in his speech. 'A gold token? They have been decoyed away then! -There is no time to be lost. I must follow.' - -'No, for that is not all!' he replied, interrupting me sternly, while -his grasp on my arm grew tighter and his eyes flashed as they looked -into mine. 'You have not heard all. They have gone with one who called -you an impostor, and a thief, and a beggar, and that to your mother's -face--and killed her! Killed her as surely as if he had taken a sword to -her, M. de Marsac! Will you, after that, leave her for them?' - -He spoke plainly. And yet, God forgive me, it was some time before I -understood him: before I took in the meaning of his words, or could -transfer my thoughts from the absent to my mother lying on the bed -before me. When I did do so, and turned to her, and saw her still face -and thin hair straggling over the coarse pillow, then, indeed, the sight -overcame me. I thought no more of others--for I thought her dead; and -with a great and bitter cry I fell on my knees beside her and hid my -face. What, after all, was this headstrong girl to me? What were even -kings and king's commissions to me beside her--beside the one human -being who loved me still, the one being of my blood and name left, the -one ever-patient, ever-constant heart which for years had beaten only -for me? For a while, for a few moments, I was worthy of her; for I -forgot all others. - -Simon Fleix roused me at last from my stupor, making me understand that -she was not dead, but in a deep swoon, the result of the shock she had -undergone. A leech, for whom he had despatched a neighbour, came in as I -rose, and taking my place, presently restored her to consciousness. But -her extreme feebleness warned me not to hope for more than a temporary -recovery; nor had I sat by her long before I discerned that this last -blow, following on so many fears and privations, had reached a vital -part, and that she was even now dying. - -She lay for a while with her hand in mine and her eyes closed, but about -noon, the student, contriving to give her some broth, she revived, and, -recognising me, lay for more than an hour gazing at me with unspeakable -content and satisfaction. At the end of that time, and when I thought -she was past speaking, she signed to me to bend over her, and whispered -something, which at first I could not catch. Presently I made it out to -be, 'She is gone--The girl you brought?' - -Much troubled, I answered yes, begging her not to think about the -matter. I need not have feared, however, for when she spoke again she -did so without emotion, and rather as one seeing clearly something -before her. - -'When you find her, Gaston,' she murmured, 'do not be angry with her. It -was not her fault. She--he deceived her. See!' - -I followed the direction rather of her eyes than her hand, and found -beneath the pillow a length of gold chain. 'She left that?' I murmured, -a strange tumult of emotions in my breast. - -'She laid it there,' my mother whispered. 'And she would have stopped -him saying what he did'--a shudder ran through my mother's frame at the -remembrance of the man's words, though her eyes still gazed into mine -with faith and confidence--'she would have stopped him, but she could -not, Gaston. And then he hurried her away.' - -'He showed her a token, madame, did he not?' I could not for my life -repress the question, so much seemed to turn on the point. - -'A bit of gold,' my mother whispered, smiling faintly. 'Now let me -sleep.' And, clinging always to my hand, she closed her eyes. - -The student came back soon afterwards with some comforts for which I had -despatched him, and we sat by her until the evening fell, and far into -the night. It was a relief to me to learn from the leech that she had -been ailing for some time, and that in any case the end must have -come soon. She suffered no pain and felt no fears, but meeting my -eyes whenever she opened her own, or came out of the drowsiness which -possessed her, thanked God, I think, and was content. As for me, I -remember that room became, for the time, the world. Its stillness -swallowed up all the tumults which filled the cities of France, and -its one interest the coming and going of a feeble breath--eclipsed the -ambitions and hopes of a lifetime. - -Before it grew light Simon Fleix stole out to attend to the horses. When -he returned he came to me and whispered in my ear that he had something -to tell me; and my mother lying in a quiet sleep at the time, I -disengaged my hand, and, rising softly, went with him to the hearth. - -Instead of speaking, he held his fist before me and suddenly unclosed -the fingers. 'Do you know it?' he said, glancing at me abruptly. - -I took what he held, and looking at it, nodded. It was a knot of velvet -of a peculiar dark red colour, and had formed, as I knew the moment I -set eyes on it, part of the fastening of mademoiselle's mask. 'Where -did you find it?' I muttered, supposing that he had picked it up on the -stairs. - -'Look at it!' he answered impatiently. 'You have not looked.' - -I turned it over, and then saw something which had escaped me at -first--that the wider part of the velvet was disfigured by a fantastic -stitching, done very roughly and rudely with a thread of white silk. -The stitches formed letters, the letters words. With a start I read, 'A -MOI!' and saw in a corner, in smaller stitches, the initials 'C. d. l. -V.' - -I looked eagerly at the student. 'Where did you find this?' I said. - -'I picked it up in the street,' he answered quietly, 'not three hundred -paces from here.' - -I thought a moment. 'In the gutter, or near the wall?' I asked. - -'Near the wall, to be sure.' - -'Under a window?' - -'Precisely,' he said. 'You may be easy; I am not a fool. I marked the -place, M. de Marsac, and shall not forget it.' - -Even the sorrow and solicitude I felt on my mother's behalf--feelings -which had seemed a minute before to secure me against all other cares or -anxieties whatever--were not proof against this discovery. For I found -myself placed in a strait so cruel I must suffer either way. On the -one hand, I could not leave my mother; I were a heartless ingrate to do -that. On the other, I could not, without grievous pain, stand still and -inactive while Mademoiselle de la Vire, whom I had sworn to protect, and -who was now suffering through my laches and mischance, appealed to me -for help. For I could not doubt that this was what the bow of velvet -meant; still less that it was intended for me, since few save myself -would be likely to recognise it, and she would naturally expect me to -make some attempt at pursuit. - -And I could not think little of the sign. Remembering mademoiselle's -proud and fearless spirit, and the light in which she had always -regarded me, I augured the worst from it. I felt assured that no -imaginary danger and no emergency save the last would have induced her -to stoop so low; and this consideration, taken with the fear I felt -that she had fallen into the hands of Fresnoy, whom I believed to be -the person who had robbed me of the gold coin, filled me with a horrible -doubt which way my duty lay. I was pulled, as it were, both ways. I felt -my honour engaged both to go and to stay, and while my hand went to my -hilt, and my feet trembled to be gone, my eyes sought my mother, and my -ears listened for her gentle breathing. - -Perplexed and distracted, I looked at the student, and he at me. 'You -saw the man who took her away,' I muttered. Hitherto, in my absorption -on my mother's account, I had put few questions, and let the matter pass -as though it moved me little and concerned me less. 'What was he like? -Was he a big, bloated man, Simon, with his head bandaged, or perhaps a -wound on his face?' - -'The gentleman who went away with mademoiselle, do you mean?' he asked. - -'Yes, yes, gentleman if you like!' - -'Not at all,' the student answered. 'He was a tall young gallant, very -gaily dressed, dark-haired, and with a rich complexion, I heard him tell -her that he came from a friend of hers too high to be named in public -or in Blois. He added that he brought a token from him; and when -mademoiselle mentioned you--she had just entered madame's room with her -woman when he appeared--' - -'He had watched me out, of course.' - -'Just so. Well, when she mentioned you, he swore you were an adventurer, -and a beggarly impostor, and what not, and bade her say whether she -thought it likely that her friend would have entrusted such a mission to -such a man.' - -'And then she went with him?' - -The student nodded. - -'Readily? Of her own free-will?' - -'Certainly,' he answered. 'It seemed so to me. She tried to prevent him -speaking before your mother, but that was all.' - -On the impulse of the moment I took a step towards the door; -recollecting my position, I turned back with a groan. Almost beside -myself, and longing for any vent for my feelings, I caught the lad by -the shoulder, where he stood on the hearth, and shook him to and fro. - -'Tell me, man, what am I to do?' I said between my teeth. 'Speak! think! -invent something!' - -But he shook his head. - -I let him go with a muttered oath, and sat down on a stool by the bed -and took my head between my hands. At that very moment, however, relief -came--came from an unexpected quarter. The door opened and the leech -entered. He was a skilful man, and, though much employed about the -Court, a Huguenot--a fact which had emboldened Simon Fleix to apply to -him through the landlord of the 'Bleeding Heart,' the secret rendezvous -of the Religion in Blois. When he had made his examination he was for -leaving, being a grave and silent man, and full of business, but at the -door I stopped him. - -'Well, sir?' I said in a low tone, my hand on his cloak. - -'She has rallied, and may live three days,' he answered quietly. 'Four, -it may be, and as many more as God wills.' - -Pressing two crowns into his hand, I begged him to call daily, which he -promised to do; and then he went. My mother was still dozing peacefully, -and I turned to Simon Fleix, my doubts resolved and my mind made up. - -'Listen,' I said, 'and answer me shortly. We cannot both leave; that is -certain. Yet I must go, and at once, to the place where you found the -velvet knot. Do you describe the spot exactly, so that I may find it, -and make no mistake.' - -He nodded, and after a moment's reflection answered, - -'You know the Rue St. Denys, M. de Marsac? Well, go down it, keeping the -"Bleeding Heart" on your left. Take the second turning on the same side -after passing the inn. The third house from the corner, on the left -again, consists of a gateway leading to the Hospital of the Holy Cross. -Above the gateway are two windows in the lower story, and above them -two more. The knot lay below the first window you come to. Do you -understand?' - -'Perfectly,' I said. 'It is something to be a clerk, Simon.' - -He looked at me thoughtfully, but added nothing; and I was busy -tightening my sword-hilt, and disposing my cloak about the lower part -of my face. When I had arranged this to my satisfaction, I took out -and counted over the sum of thirty-five crowns, which I gave to him, -impressing on him the necessity of staying beside my mother should I not -return; for though I proposed to reconnoitre only, and learn if possible -whether mademoiselle was still in Blois, the future was uncertain, and -whereas I was known to my enemies, they were strangers to me. - -Having enjoined this duty upon him, I bade my mother a silent farewell, -and, leaving the room, went slowly down the stairs, the picture of her -worn and patient face going with me, and seeming, I remember, to hallow -the purpose I had in my mind. - -The clocks were striking the hour before noon as I stepped from the -doorway, and, standing a moment in the lane, looked this way and that -for any sign of espionage. I could detect none, however. The lane was -deserted; and feeling assured that any attempt to mislead my opponents, -who probably knew Blois better than I did, must fail, I made none, but -deliberately took my way towards the 'Bleeding Heart,' in the Rue St. -Denys. The streets presented the same appearance of gloomy suspense -which I had noticed on the previous day. The same groups stood about in -the same corners, the same suspicious glances met me in common with -all other strangers who showed themselves; the same listless inaction -characterised the townsfolk, the same anxious hurry those who came and -went with news. I saw that even here, under the walls of the palace, the -bonds of law and order were strained almost to bursting, and judged that -if there ever was a time in France when right counted for little, and -the strong hand for much, it was this. Such a state of things was not -unfavourable to my present design, and caring little for suspicious -looks, I went resolutely on my way. - -I had no difficulty in finding the gateway of which Simon had spoken, -or in identifying the window beneath which he had picked up the velvet -knot. An alley opening almost opposite, I took advantage of this to -examine the house at my leisure, and remarked at once, that whereas the -lower window was guarded only by strong shutters, now open, that in the -story above was heavily barred. Naturally I concentrated my attention -on the latter. The house, an old building of stone, seemed sufficiently -reputable, nor could I discern anything about it which would have -aroused my distrust had the knot been found elsewhere. It bore the arms -of a religious brotherhood, and had probably at one time formed the -principal entrance to the hospital, which still stood behind it, but it -had now come, as I judged, to be used as a dwelling of the better class. -Whether the two floors were separately inhabited or not I failed to -decide. - -After watching it for some time without seeing anyone pass in or out, or -anything occurring to enlighten me one way or the other, I resolved to -venture in, the street being quiet and the house giving no sign of being -strongly garrisoned. The entrance lay under the archway, through a door -on the right side. I judged from what I saw that the porter was probably -absent, busying himself with his gossips in matters of State. - -And this proved to be the case, for when I had made the passage of the -street with success, and slipped quietly in through the half-open door, -I found only his staff and charcoal-pan there to represent him. A single -look satisfied me on that point; forthwith, without hesitation, I -turned to the stairs and began to mount, assured that if I would effect -anything single-handed I must trust to audacity and surprise rather than -to caution or forethought. - -The staircase was poorly lighted by loopholes looking towards the rear, -but it was clean and well-kept. Silence, broken only by the sound of my -footsteps, prevailed throughout the house, and all seemed so regular -and decent and orderly that the higher I rose the lower fell my hopes -of success. Still, I held resolutely on until I reached the second floor -and stood before a closed door. The moment had come to put all to the -touch. I listened for a few seconds but hearing nothing, cautiously -lifted the latch. Somewhat to my surprise the door yielded to my hand, -and I entered. - -A high settle stood inside, interrupting my view of the room, which -seemed to be spacious and full of rich stuffs and furniture, but low -in the roof, and somewhat dimly lighted by two windows rather wide than -high. The warm glow of a fire shone on the woodwork of the ceiling, -and as I softly closed the door a log on the hearth gave way, with a -crackling of sparks, which pleasantly broke the luxurious silence. The -next moment a low, sweet voice asked, 'Alphonse, is that you?' - -I walked round the settle and came face to face with a beautiful woman -reclining on a couch. On hearing the door open she had raised herself on -her elbow. Now, seeing a stranger before her, she sprang up with a low -cry, and stood gazing at me, her face expressing both astonishment and -anger. She was of middling height, her features regular though somewhat -childlike, her complexion singularly fair. A profusion of golden hair -hung in disorder about her neck, and matched the deep blue of her eyes, -wherein it seemed to me, there lurked more spirit and fire than the -general cast of her features led one to expect. - -After a moment's silence, during which she scanned me from head to foot -with great haughtiness--and I her with curiosity and wonder--she spoke. -'Sir!' she said slowly, 'to what am I to attribute this--visit?' - -For the moment I was so taken aback by her appearance and extraordinary -beauty, as well as by the absence of any sign of those I sought, that I -could not gather my thoughts to reply, but stood looking vaguely at her. -I had expected, when I entered the room, something so different from -this! - -'Well, sir?' she said again, speaking sharply, and tapping her foot on -the floor. - -'This visit, madame?' I stammered. - -'Call it intrusion, sir, if you please!' she cried imperiously. 'Only -explain it, or begone.' - -'I crave leave to do both, madame,' I answered, collecting myself by an -effort. 'I ascended these stairs and opened your door in error--that is -the simple fact--hoping to find a friend of mine here. I was mistaken, -it seems, and it only remains for me to withdraw, offering at the same -time the humblest apologies,' And as I spoke I bowed low and prepared to -retire. - -'One moment, sir!' she said quickly, and in an altered tone. 'You are, -perhaps, a friend of M. de Bruhl--of my husband. In that case, if you -desire to leave any message I will--I shall be glad to deliver it.' - -She looked so charming that, despite the tumult of my feelings, I could -not but regard her with admiration. 'Alas! madame, I cannot plead -that excuse,' I answered. 'I regret that I have not the honour of his -acquaintance.' - -She eyed me with some surprise. 'Yet still, sir,' she answered, smiling -a little, and toying with a gold brooch which clasped her habit, 'you -must have had some ground, some reason, for supposing you would find a -friend here?' - -'True, madame,' I answered, 'but I was mistaken.' - -I saw her colour suddenly. With a smile and a faint twinkle of the eye -she said, 'It is not possible, sir, I suppose--you have not come here, -I mean, out of any reason connected with a--a knot of velvet, for -instance?' - -I started, and involuntarily advanced a step towards her. 'A knot of -velvet!' I exclaimed, with emotion. 'Mon Dieu! Then I was not mistaken! -I have come to the right house, and you--you know something of this! -Madame,' I continued impulsively, 'that knot of velvet? Tell me what it -means, I implore you!' - -She seemed alarmed by my violence, retreating a step or two, and looking -at me haughtily, yet with a kind of shame-facedness. 'Believe me, it -means nothing,' she said hurriedly. 'I beg you to understand that, sir. -It was a foolish jest.' - -'A jest?' I said. 'It fell from this window.' - -'It was a jest, sir,' she answered stubbornly. But I could see that, -with all her pride, she was alarmed; her face was troubled, and there -were tears in her eyes. And this rendered me under the circumstances -only the more persistent. - -'I have the velvet here, madame,' I said. 'You must tell me more about -it.' - -She looked at me with a weightier impulse of anger than she had yet -exhibited. 'I do not think you know to whom you are speaking,' she said, -breathing fast. 'Leave the room, sir, and at once! I have told you it -was a jest. If you are a gentleman you will believe me, and go.' And she -pointed to the door. - -But I held my ground, with an obstinate determination to pierce the -mystery. 'I am a gentleman, madame,' I said, 'and yet I must know more. -Until I know more I cannot go.' - -'Oh, this is insufferable!' she cried, looking round as if for a way of -escape; but I was between her and the only door. 'This is unbearable! -The knot was never intended for you, sir. And what is more, if M. de -Bruhl comes and finds you here, you will repent it bitterly.' - -I saw that she was at least as much concerned on her own account as on -mine, and thought myself justified under the circumstances in taking -advantage of her fears. I deliberately laid my cap on the table which -stood beside me. 'I will go madame,' I said, looking at her fixedly, -'when I know all that you know about this knot I hold, and not before. -If you are unwilling to tell me, I must wait for M. de Bruhl, and ask -him.' - -She cried out 'Insolent!' and looked at me as if in her rage and dismay -she would gladly have killed me; being, I could see, a passionate woman. -But I held my ground, and after a moment she spoke. 'What do you want to -know?' she said, frowning darkly. - -'This knot--how did it come to lie in the street below your window? I -want to know that first.' - -'I dropped it,' she answered sullenly. - -'Why?' I said. - -'Because--' And then she stopped and looked at me, and then again looked -down, her face crimson. 'Because, if you must know,' she continued -hurriedly, tracing a pattern on the table with her finger, 'I saw it -bore the words "A MOI." I have been married only two months, and I -thought my husband might find it--and bring it to me. It was a silly -fancy.' - -'But where did you get it?' I asked, and I stared at her in growing -wonder and perplexity. For the more questions I put, the further, it -seemed to me, I strayed from my object. - -'I picked it up in the Ruelle d'Arcy,' she answered, tapping her foot -on the floor resentfully. 'It was the silly thing put it into my head -to--to do what I did. And now, have you any more questions, sir?' - -'One only,' I said, seeing it all clearly enough. 'Will you tell me, -please, exactly where you found it?' - -'I have told you. In the Ruelle d'Arcy, ten paces from the Rue de -Valois. Now, sir, will you go?' - -'One word, madame. Did--' - -But she cried, 'Go, sir, go! go!' so violently, that after making one -more attempt to express my thanks, I thought it better to obey her. I -had learned all she knew; I had solved the puzzle. But, solving it, -I found myself no nearer to the end I had in view, no nearer to -mademoiselle. I closed the door with a silent bow, and began to descend -the stairs, my mind full of anxious doubts and calculations. The velvet -knot was the only clue I possessed, but was I right; in placing any -dependence on it? I knew now that, wherever it had originally lain, it -had been removed once. If once, why not twice? why not three times? - - - -CHAPTER IX. THE HOUSE IN THE RUELLE D'ARCY. - -I had not gone down half a dozen steps before I heard a man enter the -staircase from the street, and begin to ascend. It struck me at once -that this might be M. de Bruhl; and I realised that I had not left -madame's apartment a moment too soon. The last thing I desired, -having so much on my hands, was to embroil myself with a stranger, and -accordingly I quickened my pace, hoping to meet him so near the foot -of the stairs as to leave him in doubt whether I had been visiting the -upper or lower part of the house. The staircase was dark, however, and -being familiar with it, he had the advantage over me. He came leaping up -two steps at a time, and turning the angle abruptly, surprised me before -I was clear of the upper flight. - -On seeing me, he stopped short and stared; thinking at first, I fancy, -that he ought to recognise me. When he did not, he stood back a pace. -'Umph!' he said. 'Have you been--have you any message for me, sir?' - -'No,' I said, 'I have not.' - -He frowned. 'I am M. de Bruhl,' he said. - -'Indeed?' I muttered, not knowing what else to say. - -'You have been--' - -'Up your stairs, sir? Yes. In error,' I answered bluntly. - -He gave a kind of grunt at that, and stood aside, incredulous and -dissatisfied, yet uncertain how to proceed. I met his black looks with -a steady countenance, and passed by him, becoming aware, however, as I -went on down the stairs that he had turned and was looking after me. He -was a tall, handsome man, dark, and somewhat ruddy of complexion, and -was dressed in the extreme of Court fashion, in a suit of myrtle-green -trimmed with sable. He carried also a cloak lined with the same on his -arm. Beyond looking back when I reached the street, to see that he did -not follow me, I thought no more of him. But we were to meet again, and -often. Nay, had I then known all that was to be known I would have gone -back and--But of that in another place. - -The Rue de Valois, to which a tradesman, who was peering cautiously out -of his shop, directed me, proved to be one of the main streets of -the city, narrow and dirty, and darkened by overhanging eaves and -signboards, but full of noise and bustle. One end of it opened on the -PARVIS of the Cathedral; the other and quieter end appeared to abut on -the west gate of the town. Feeling the importance of avoiding notice in -the neighbourhood of the house I sought, I strolled into the open space -in front of the Cathedral, and accosting two men who stood talking -there, learned that the Ruelle d'Arcy was the third lane on the right -of the Rue de Valois, and some little distance along it. Armed with this -information I left them, and with my head bent down, and my cloak drawn -about the lower part of my face, as if I felt the east wind, I proceeded -down the street until I reached the opening of the lane. Without looking -up I turned briskly into it. - -When I had gone ten paces past the turning, however, I stopped and, -gazing about me, began to take in my surroundings as fast as I could. -The lane, which seemed little frequented, was eight or nine feet wide, -unpaved, and full of ruts. The high blank wall of a garden rose on one -side of it, on the other the still higher wall of a house; and both -were completely devoid of windows, a feature which I recognised with the -utmost dismay. For it completely upset all my calculations. In vain -I measured with my eye the ten paces I had come; in vain I looked up, -looked this way and that. I was nonplussed. No window opened on the lane -at that point, nor, indeed, throughout its length. For it was bounded to -the end, as far as I could see, by dead-walls as of gardens. - -Recognising, with a sinking heart, what this meant, I saw in a moment -that all the hopes I had raised on Simon Fleix's discovery were -baseless. Mademoiselle had dropped the velvet bow, no doubt, but not -from a window. It was still a clue, but one so slight and vague as to be -virtually useless, proving only that she was in trouble and in need of -help; perhaps that she had passed through this lane on her way from one -place of confinement to another. - -Thoroughly baffled and dispirited, I leant for awhile against the wall, -brooding over the ill-luck which seemed to attend me in this, as in -so many previous adventures. Nor was the low voice of conscience, -suggesting that such failures arose from mismanagement rather than -from ill-luck, slow to make itself heard. I reflected that if I had not -allowed myself to be robbed of the gold token, mademoiselle would have -trusted me; that if I had not brought her to so poor an abode as my -mother's, she would not have been cajoled into following a stranger; -finally, that if I had remained with her, and sent Simon to attend to -the horses in my place, no stranger would have gained access to her. - -But it has never been my way to accept defeat at the first offer, and -though I felt these self-reproaches to be well deserved, a moment's -reflection persuaded me that in the singular and especial providence -which had brought the velvet knot safe to my hands I ought to find -encouragement. Had Madame de Bruhl not picked it up it would have -continued to lie in this by-path, through which neither I nor Simon -Fleix would have been likely to pass. Again, had madame not dropped it -in her turn, we should have sought in vain for any, even the slightest, -clue to Mademoiselle de la Vire's fate or position. - -Cheered afresh by this thought, I determined to walk to the end of the -lane; and forthwith did so, looking sharply about me as I went, but -meeting no one. The bare upper branches of a tree rose here and there -above the walls, which were pierced at intervals by low, strong doors. -These doors I carefully examined, but without making any discovery; -all were securely fastened, and many seemed to have been rarely opened. -Emerging at last and without result on the inner side of the city -ramparts, I turned, and moodily retraced my steps through the lane, -proceeding more slowly as I drew near to the Rue de Valois. This time, -being a little farther from the street, I made a discovery. - -The corner house, which had its front on the Rue Valois, presented, as -I have said, a dead, windowless wall to the lane; but from my present -standpoint I could see the upper part of the back of this house--that -part of the back, I mean, which rose above the lower garden-wall that -abutted on it--and in this there were several windows. The whole of two -and a part of a third were within the range of my eyes; and suddenly in -one of these I discovered something which made my heart beat high with -hope and expectation. The window in question was heavily grated; that -which I saw was tied to one of the bars. It was a small knot of some -white stuff--linen apparently--and it seemed a trifle to the eye; but -it was looped, as far as I could see from a distance, after the same -fashion as the scrap of velvet I had in my pouch. - -The conclusion was obvious, at the same time that it inspired me with -the liveliest admiration of mademoiselle's wit and resources. She was -confined in that room; the odds were that she was behind those bars. A -bow dropped thence would fall, the wind being favourable, into the lane, -not ten, but twenty paces from the street. I ought to have been prepared -for a slight inaccuracy in a woman's estimate of distance. - -It may be imagined with what eagerness I now scanned the house, with -what minuteness I sought for a weak place. The longer I looked, however, -the less comfort I derived from my inspection. I saw before me a gloomy -stronghold of brick, four-square, and built in the old Italian manner, -with battlements at the top, and a small machicolation, little more than -a string-course, above each story; this serving at once to lessen the -monotony of the dead-walls, and to add to the frowning weight of the -upper part. The windows were few and small, and the house looked -damp and mouldy; lichens clotted the bricks, and moss filled the -string-courses. A low door opening from the lane into the garden -naturally attracted my attention; but it proved to be of abnormal -strength, and bolted both at the top and bottom. - -Assured that nothing could be done on that side, and being unwilling to -remain longer in the neighbourhood, lest I should attract attention, I -returned to the street, and twice walked past the front of the house, -seeing all I could with as little appearance of seeing anything as I -could compass. The front retreated somewhat from the line of the street, -and was flanked on the farther side by stables. Only one chimney smoked, -and that sparely. Three steps led up to imposing double doors, which -stood half open, and afforded a glimpse of a spacious hall and a state -staircase. Two men, apparently servants, lounged on the steps, eating -chestnuts, and jesting with one another; and above the door were three -shields blazoned in colours. I saw with satisfaction, as I passed the -second time, that the middle coat was that of Turenne impaling one which -I could not read--which thoroughly satisfied me that the bow of velvet -had not lied; so that, without more ado, I turned homewards, formulating -my plans as I went. - -I found all as I had left it; and my mother still lying in a -half-conscious state, I was spared the pain of making excuses for past -absence, or explaining that which I designed. I communicated the plan -I had formed to Simon Fleix, who saw no difficulty in procuring a -respectable person to stay with Madame de Bonne. But for some time he -would come no farther into the business. He listened, his mouth open -and his eyes glittering, to my plan until I came to his share in it; and -then he fell into a violent fit of trembling. - -'You want me to fight, monsieur,' he cried reproachfully, shaking all -over like one in the palsy. 'You said so the other night. You want to -get me killed! That's it.' - -'Nonsense!' I answered sharply. 'I want you to hold the horses!' - -He looked at me wildly, with a kind of resentment in his face, and yet -as if he were fascinated. - -'You will drag me into it!' he persisted. 'You will!' - -'I won't,' I said. - -'You will! You will! And the end I know. I shall have no chance. I am -a clerk, and not bred to fighting. You want to be the death of me!' he -cried excitedly. - -'I don't want you to fight,' I answered with some contempt. 'I would -rather that you kept out of it for my mother's sake. I only want you to -stay in the lane and hold the horses. You will run little more risk than -you do sitting by the hearth here.' - -And in the end I persuaded him to do what I wished; though still, -whenever he thought of what was in front of him, he fell a-trembling -again, and many times during the afternoon got up and walked to and -fro between the window and the hearth, his face working and his hands -clenched like those of a man in a fever. I put this down at first to -sheer chicken-heartedness, and thought it augured ill for my enterprise; -but presently remarking that he made no attempt to draw back, and that -though the sweat stood on his brow he set about such preparations as -were necessary--remembering also how long and kindly, and without pay or -guerdon, he had served my mother, I began to see that here was something -phenomenal; a man strange and beyond the ordinary, of whom it was -impossible to predicate what he would do when he came to be tried. - -For myself, I passed the afternoon in a state almost of apathy. I -thought it my duty to make this attempt to free mademoiselle, and to -make it at once, since it was impossible to say what harm might come of -delay, were she in such hands as Fresnoy's; but I had so little hope of -success that I regarded the enterprise as desperate. The certain loss -of my mother, however, and the low ebb of my fortunes, with the -ever-present sense of failure, contributed to render me indifferent to -risks; and even when we were on our way, through by-streets known to -Simon, to the farther end of the Ruelle d'Arcy, and the red and frosty -sunset shone in our faces, and gilded for a moment the dull eaves and -grey towers above us, I felt no softening. Whatever the end, there was -but one in the world whom I should regret, or who would regret me; and -she hung, herself, on the verge of eternity. - -So that I was able to give Simon Fleix his last directions with as -much coolness as I ever felt in my life. I stationed him with the three -horses in the lane--which seemed as quiet and little frequented as in -the morning--near the end of it, and about a hundred paces or more from -the house. - -'Turn their heads towards the ramparts,' I said, wheeling them round -myself, 'and then they will be ready to start. They are all quiet -enough. You can let the Cid loose. And now listen to me, Simon,' I -continued. 'Wait here until you see me return, or until you see you are -going to be attacked. In the first case, stay for me, of course; in the -second, save yourself as you please. Lastly, if neither event occurs -before half-past five--you will hear the convent-bell yonder ring at -the half-hour--begone, and take the horses; they are yours, And one -word more,' I added hurriedly. 'If you can only get away with one horse, -Simon, take the Cid. It is worth more than most men, and will not fail -you at a pinch.' - -As I turned away, I gave him one look to see if he understood. It was -not without hesitation that after that look I left him. The lad's -face was flushed, he was breathing hard, his eyes seemed to be almost -starting from his head. He sat his horse shaking in every limb, and had -all the air of a man in a fit. I expected him to call me back; but he -did not, and reflecting that I must trust him, or give up the attempt, -I went up the lane with my sword under my arm, and my cloak loose on my -shoulders. I met a man driving a donkey laden with faggots. I saw no one -else. It was already dusk between the walls, though light enough in the -open country; but that was in my favour, my only regret; being that as -the town gates closed shortly after half-past five, I could not defer my -attempt until a still later hour. - -Pausing in the shadow of the house while a man might count ten, I -impressed on my memory the position of the particular window which bore -the knot; then I passed quickly into the street, which was still full of -movement, and for a second, feeling myself safe from observation in the -crowd, I stood looking at the front of the house. The door was shut. My -heart sank when I saw this, for I had looked to find it still open. - -The feeling, however, that I could not wait, though time might present -more than one opportunity, spurred me on. What I could do I must do now, -at once. The sense that this was so being heavy upon me, I saw nothing -for it but to use the knocker and gain admission, by fraud if I could, -and if not, by force. Accordingly I stepped briskly across the kennel, -and made for the entrance. - -When I was within two paces of the steps, however, someone abruptly -threw the door open and stepped out. The man did not notice me, and I -stood quickly aside, hoping that at the last minute my chance had come. -Two men, who had apparently attended this first person downstairs, stood -respectfully behind him, holding lights. He paused a moment on the steps -to adjust his cloak, and with more than a little surprise I recognised -my acquaintance of the morning, M. de Bruhl. - -I had scarcely time to identify him before he walked down the steps -swinging his cane, brushed carelessly past me, and was gone. The two -men looked after him awhile, shading their lights from the wind, and one -saying something, the other laughed coarsely. The next moment they threw -the door to and went, as I saw by the passage of their light, into the -room on the left of the hall. - -Now was my time. I could have hoped for, prayed for, expected no better -fortune than this. The door had rebounded slightly from the jamb, and -stood open an inch or more. In a second I pushed it from me gently, slid -into the hall, and closed it behind me. - -The door of the room on the left was wide open, and the light which -shone through the doorway--otherwise the hall was dark--as well as the -voices of the two men I had seen, warned me to be careful. I stood, -scarcely daring to breathe, and looked about me. There was no matting -on the floor, no fire on the hearth. The hall felt cold, damp, and -uninhabited. The state staircase rose in front of me, and presently -bifurcating, formed a gallery round the place. I looked up, and up, and -far above me, in the dim heights of the second floor, I espied a faint -light--perhaps, the reflection of a light. - -A movement in the room on my left warned me that I had no time to lose, -if I meant to act. At any minute one of the men might come out and -discover me. With the utmost care I started on my journey. I stole -across the stone floor of the hall easily and quietly enough, but I -found the real difficulty begin when I came to the stairs. They were of -wood, and creaked and groaned under me to such an extent that, with each -step I trod, I expected the men to take the alarm. Fortunately all went -well until I passed the first corner--I chose, of course, the left-hand -flight--then a board jumped under my foot with a crack which sounded in -the empty hall, and to my excited ears, as loud as a pistol-shot. I was -in two minds whether I should not on the instant make a rush for it, but -happily I stood still. One of the men came out and listened, and I heard -the other ask, with an oath, what it was. I leant against the wall, -holding my breath. - -'Only that wench in one of her tantrums!' the man who had come out -answered, applying an epithet to her which I will not set down, but -which I carried to his account in the event of our coming face to face -presently. 'She is quiet now. She may hammer and hammer, but--' - -The rest I lost, as he passed through the doorway and went back to his -place by the fire. But in one way his words were of advantage to me. -I concluded that I need not be so very cautious now, seeing that they -would set down anything they heard to the same cause; and I sped on more -quickly, I had just gained the second floor landing when a loud noise -below--the opening of the street door and the heavy tread of feet in the -hall--brought me to a temporary standstill. I looked cautiously over the -balustrade, and saw two men go across to the room on the left. One -of them spoke as he entered, chiding the other knaves, I fancied, for -leaving the door unbarred; and the tone, though not the words, echoing -sullenly up the staircase, struck a familiar chord in my memory. The -voice was Fresnoy's! - - - -CHAPTER X. THE FIGHT ON THE STAIRS. - -The certainty, which this sound gave me, that I was in the right house, -and that it held also the villain to whom I owed all my misfortunes--for -who but Fresnoy could have furnished the broken coin which had deceived -mademoiselle?--had a singularly inspiriting effect upon me. I felt every -muscle in my body grow on the instant; hard as steel, my eyes more keen, -my ears sharper--all my senses more apt and vigorous. I stole off like -a cat from the balustrade, over which I had been looking, and without a -second's delay began the search for mademoiselle's room; reflecting that -though the garrison now amounted to four, I had no need to despair. If I -could release the prisoners without noise--which would be easy were the -key in the lock--we might hope to pass through the hall by a tour de -force of one kind or another. And a church-clock at this moment striking -Five, and reminding me that we had only half an hour in which to do all -and reach the horses, I was the more inclined to risk something. - -The light which I had seen from below hung in a flat-bottomed lantern -just beyond the head of the stairs, and outside the entrance to one -of two passages which appeared to lead to the back part of the house. -Suspecting that M. de Bruhl's business had lain with mademoiselle, I -guessed that the light had been placed for his convenience. With this -clue and the position of the window to guide me, I fixed on a door on -the right of this passage, and scarcely four paces from the head of the -stairs. Before I made any sign, however, I knelt down and ascertained -that there was a light in the room, and also that the key was not in the -lock. - -So far satisfied, I scratched on the door with my finger-nails, at first -softly, then with greater force, and presently I heard someone in the -room rise. I felt sure that the person whoever it was had taken the -alarm and was listening, and putting my lips to the keyhole I whispered -mademoiselle's name. - -A footstep crossed the room sharply, and I heard muttering just within -the door. I thought I detected two voices. But I was impatient, and, -getting no answer, whispered in the same manner as before, 'Mademoiselle -de la Vire, are you there?' - -Still no answer. The muttering, too, had stopped, and all was still--in -the room, and in the silent house. I tried again. 'It is I, Gaston de -Marsac,' I said. 'Do you hear? I am come to release you.' I spoke as -loudly as I dared, but most of the sound seemed to come back on me and -wander in suspicious murmurings down the staircase. - -This time, however, an exclamation of surprise rewarded me, and a voice, -which I recognised at once as mademoiselle's, answered softly: - -'What is it? Who is there?' - -'Gaston de Marsac,' I answered. 'Do you need my help?' - -The very brevity of her reply; the joyful sob which accompanied it, -and which I detected even through the door; the wild cry of -thankfulness--almost an oath--of her companion--all these assured me -at once that I was welcome--welcome as I had never been before--and, so -assuring me, braced me to the height of any occasion which might befall. - -'Can you open the door? I muttered. All the time I was on my knees, my -attention divided between the inside of the room and the stray sounds -which now and then came up to me from the hall below. 'Have you the -key?' - -'No; we are locked in,' mademoiselle answered. - -I expected this. 'If the door is bolted inside,' I whispered, 'unfasten -it, if you please!' - -They answered that it was not, so bidding them stand back a little from -it, I rose and set my shoulder against it. I hoped to be able to burst -it in with only one crash, which by itself, a single sound, might not -alarm the men downstairs. But my weight made no impression upon the -lock, and the opposite wall being too far distant to allow me to get any -purchase for my feet, I presently desisted. The closeness of the door -to the jambs warned me that an attempt to prise it open would be equally -futile; and for a moment I stood gazing in perplexity at the solid -planks, which bid fair to baffle me to the end. - -The position was, indeed, one of great difficulty, nor can I now think -of any way out of it better or other than that which I adopted. Against -the wall near the head of the stairs I had noticed, as I came up, a -stout wooden stool. I stole out and fetched this, and setting it against -the opposite wall, endeavoured in this way to get sufficient purchase -for my feet. The lock still held; but, as I threw my whole weight on the -door, the panel against which I leaned gave way and broke inwards with -a loud, crashing sound, which echoed through the empty house, and might -almost have been beard in the street outside. - -It reached the ears, at any rate, of the men sitting below, and I heard -them troop noisily out and stand in the hall, now talking loudly, and -now listening. A minute of breathless suspense followed--it seemed a -long minute; and then, to my relief, they tramped back again, and I -was free to return to my task. Another thrust, directed a little lower, -would, I hoped, do the business; but to make this the more certain I -knelt down and secured the stool firmly against the wall. As I rose -after settling it, something else, without sound or warning, rose also, -taking me completely by surprise--a man's head above the top stair, -which, as it happened, faced me. His eyes met mine, and I knew I was -discovered. - -He turned and bundled downstairs again with a scared face, going so -quickly that I could not have caught him if I would, or had had the wit -to try. Of silence there was so longer need. In a few seconds the alarm -would be raised. I had small time for thought. Laying myself bodily -against the door, I heaved and pressed with all my strength; but whether -I was careless in my haste, or the cause was other, the lock did not -give. Instead the stool slipped, and I fell with a crash on the floor at -the very moment the alarm reached the men below. - -I remember that the crash of my unlucky fall seemed to release all the -prisoned noises of the house. A faint scream within the room was but -a prelude, lost the next moment in the roar of dismay, the clatter of -weapons, and volley of oaths and cries and curses which, rolling up from -below, echoed hollowly about me, as the startled knaves rushed to their -weapons, and charged across the flags and up the staircase. I had space -for one desperate effort. Picking myself up, I seized the stool by two -of its legs and dashed it twice against the door, driving in the panel -I had before splintered. But that was all. The lock held, and I had no -time for a third blow. The men were already halfway up the stairs. In a -breath almost they would be upon me. I flung down the useless stool and -snatched up my sword, which lay unsheathed beside me. So far the matter -had gone against us, but it was time for a change of weapons now, and -the end was not yet. I sprang to the head of the stairs and stood there, -my arm by my side and my point resting on the floor, in such an attitude -of preparedness as I could compass at the moment. - -For I had not been in the house all this time, as may well be supposed, -without deciding what I would do in case of surprise, and exactly where -I could best stand on the defensive. The flat bottom of the lamp which -hung outside the passage threw a deep shadow on the spot immediately -below it, while the light fell brightly on the steps beyond. Standing in -the shadow I could reach the edge of the stairs with my point, and swing -the blade freely, without fear of the balustrade; and here I posted -myself with a certain grim satisfaction as Fresnoy, with his three -comrades behind him, came bounding up the last flight. - -They were four to one, but I laughed to see how, not abruptly, but -shamefacedly and by degrees, they came to a stand halfway up the flight, -and looked at me, measuring the steps and the advantage which the light -shining in their eyes gave me. Fresnoy's ugly face was rendered uglier -by a great strip of plaister which marked the place where the hilt of -my sword had struck him in our last encounter at Chize; and this and the -hatred he bore to me gave a peculiar malevolence to his look. The deaf -man Matthew, whose savage stolidity had more than once excited my anger -on our journey, came next to him, the two strangers whom I had seen in -the hall bringing up the rear. Of the four, these last seemed the most -anxious to come to blows, and had Fresnoy not barred the way with his -hand we should have crossed swords without parley. - -'Halt, will you!' he cried, with an oath, thrusting one of them back. -And then to me he said, 'So, so, my friend! It is you, is it?' - -I looked at him in silence, with a scorn which knew no bounds, and did -not so much as honour him by raising my sword, though I watched him -heedfully. - -'What are you doing here? he continued, with an attempt at bluster. - -Still I would not answer him, or move, but stood looking down at him. -After a moment of this, he grew restive, his temper being churlish and -impatient at the best. Besides, I think he retained just so much of a -gentleman's feelings as enabled him to understand my contempt and smart -under it. He moved a step upward, his brow dark with passion. - -'You beggarly son of a scarecrow!' he broke out on a sudden, adding a -string of foul imprecations, 'will you speak, or are you going to wait -to be spitted where you stand? If we once begin, my bantam, we shall not -stop until we have done your business! If you have anything to say, say -it, and--' But I omit the rest of his speech, which was foul beyond the -ordinary. - -Still I did not move or speak, but looked at him unwavering, though it -pained me to think the women heard. He made a last attempt.' Come, old -friend,' he said, swallowing his anger again, or pretending to do so, -and speaking with a vile bonhomie which I knew to be treacherous, 'if -we come to blows we shall give you no quarter. But one chance you shall -have, for the sake of old days when we followed Conde. Go! Take the -chance, and go. We will let you pass, and that broken door shall be the -worst of it. That is more,' he added with a curse, 'than I would do for -any other man in your place, M. de Marsac.' - -A sudden movement and a low exclamation in the room behind me showed -that his words were heard there; and these sounds being followed -immediately by a noise as of riving wood, mingled with the quick -breathing of someone hard at work, I judged that the women were striving -with the door--enlarging the opening it might be. I dared not look -round, however, to see what progress they made, nor did I answer -Fresnoy, save by the same silent contempt, but stood watching the men -before me with the eye of a fencer about to engage. And I know nothing -more keen, more vigilant, more steadfast than that. - -It was well I did, for without signal or warning the group wavered a -moment, as though retreating, and the next instant precipitated itself -upon me. Fortunately, only two could engage me at once, and Fresnoy, I -noticed, was not of the two who dashed forward up the steps. One of the -strangers forced himself to the front, and, taking the lead, pressed me -briskly, Matthew seconding him in appearance, while really watching -for an opportunity of running in and stabbing me at close quarters, a -manoeuvre I was not slow to detect. - -That first bout lasted half a minute only. A fierce exultant joy ran -through me as the steel rang and grated, and I found that I had not -mistaken the strength of wrist or position. The men were mine. They -hampered one another on the stairs, and fought in fetters, being unable -to advance or retreat, to lunge with freedom, or give back without fear. -I apprehended greater danger from Matthew than from my actual opponent, -and presently, watching my opportunity, disarmed the latter by a strong -parade, and sweeping Matthew's sword aside by the same movement, slashed -him across the forehead; then, drawing back a step, gave my first -opponent the point. He fell in a heap on the floor, as good as dead, -and Matthew, dropping his sword, staggered backwards and downwards into -Fresnoy's arms. - -'Bonne Foi! France et Bonne Foi!' It seemed to me that I bad not spoken, -that I had plied steel in grimmest silence; and yet the cry still rang -and echoed in the roof as I lowered my point, and stood looking grimly -down at them. Fresnoy's face was disfigured with rage and chagrin. They -were now but two to one, for Matthew, though his wound was slight, was -disabled by the blood which ran down into his eyes and blinded him. -'France et Bonne Foi!' - -'Bonne Foi and good sword!' cried a voice behind me. And looking swiftly -round, I saw mademoiselle's face thrust through the hole in the door. -Her eyes sparkled with a fierce light, her lips were red beyond the -ordinary, and her hair, loosened and thrown into disorder by her -exertions, fell in thick masses about her white cheeks, and gave her the -aspect of a war-witch, such as they tell of in my country of Brittany. -'Good sword!' she cried again, and clapped her hands. - -'But better board, mademoiselle!' I answered gaily. Like most of the -men of my province, I am commonly melancholic, but I have the habit of -growing witty at such times as these. 'Now, M. Fresnoy,' I continued, -'I am waiting your convenience. Must I put on my cloak to keep myself -warm?' - -He answered by a curse, and stood looking at me irresolutely. 'If you -will come down,' he said. - -'Send your man away and I will come,' I answered briskly. 'There -is space on the landing, and a moderate light. But I must be quick. -Mademoiselle and I are due elsewhere, and we are late already.' - -Still he hesitated. Still he looked at the man lying at his feet--who -had stretched himself out and passed, quietly enough, a minute -before--and stood dubious, the most pitiable picture of cowardice -and malice--he being ordinarily a stout man--I ever saw. I called him -poltroon and white-feather, and was considering whether I had not better -go down to him, seeing that our time must be up, and Simon would be -quitting his post, when a cry behind me caused me to turn, and I saw -that mademoiselle was no longer looking through the opening in the door. - -Alarmed on her behalf, as I reflected that there might be other doors to -the room, and the men have other accomplices in the house, I sprang to -the door to see, but had basely time to send a single glance round-the -interior--which showed me only that the room was still occupied--before -Fresnoy, taking advantage of my movement and of my back being turned, -dashed up the stairs, with his comrade at his heels, and succeeded in -pinning me into the narrow passage where I stood. - -I had scarcely time, indeed, to turn and put myself on guard before he -thrust at me. Nor was that all. The superiority in position no longer -lay with me. I found myself fighting between walls close to the opening -in the door, through which the light fell athwart my eyes, baffling and -perplexing me. Fresnoy was not slow to see the aid this gave him, and -pressed me hard and desperately; so that we played for a full minute at -close quarters, thrusting and parrying, neither of us having room to use -the edge, or time to utter word or prayer. - -At this game we were so evenly matched that for a time the end was hard -to tell. Presently, however, there came a change. My opponent's habit -of wild living suited ill with a prolonged bout, and as his strength and -breath failed and he began to give ground I discerned I had only to wear -him out to have him at my mercy. He felt this himself, and even by that -light I saw the sweat spring in great drops to his forehead, saw the -terror grow in his eyes. Already I was counting him a dead man and the -victory mine, when something hashed behind his blade, and his comrade's -poniard, whizzing past his shoulder, struck me fairly on the chin, -staggering me and hurling me back dizzy and half-stunned, uncertain what -had happened to me. - -Sped an inch lower it, would have done its work and finished mine. Even -as it was, my hand going up as I reeled back gave Fresnoy an opening, of -which he was not slow to avail himself. He sprang forward, lunging at me -furiously, and would have run me through there and then, and ended the -matter, bad not his foot, as he advanced, caught in the stool, which -still lay against the wall. He stumbled, his point missed my hip by a -hair's breadth, and he himself fell all his length on the floor, his -rapier breaking off short at the hilt. - -His one remaining backer stayed to cast a look at him, and that was all. -The man fled, and I chased him as far as the head of the stairs; where -I left him, assured by the speed and agility he displayed in clearing -flight after flight that I had nothing to fear from him. Fresnoy lay, -apparently stunned, and completely at my mercy. I stood an instant -looking down at him, in two minds whether I should not run him through. -But the memory of old days, when he had played his part in more -honourable fashion and shown a coarse good-fellowship in the field, held -my hand; and flinging a curse at him, I turned in anxious haste to the -door, the centre of all this bloodshed and commotion. The light still -shone through the breach in the panel, but for some minutes--since -Fresnoy's rush up the stairs, indeed--I had heard no sound from -this quarter. Now, looking in with apprehensions which grew with the -continuing silence, I learned the reason. The room was empty! - -Such a disappointment in the moment of triumph was hard to bear. I saw -myself, after all done and won, on the point of being again outwitted, -distanced, it might be fooled. In frantic haste and excitement I -snatched up the stool beside me, and, dashing it twice against the lock, -forced it at last to yield. The door swung open, and I rushed into the -room, which, abandoned by those who had so lately occupied it, presented -nothing to detain me. I cast a single glance round, saw that it was -squalid, low-roofed, unfurnished, a mere prison; then swiftly crossing -the floor, I made for a door at the farther end, which my eye had marked -from the first. A candle stood flaring and guttering on a stool, and as -I passed I took it up. - -Somewhat to my surprise the door yielded to my touch. In trembling -haste--for what might not befall the women while I fumbled with doors -or wandered in passages?--I flung it wide, and passing through it, found -myself at the head of a narrow, mean staircase, leading, doubtless, to -the servants' offices. At this, and seeing no hindrance before me, I -took heart of grace, reflecting that mademoiselle might have escaped -from the house this way. Though it would now be too late to quit the -city, I might still overtake her, and all end well. Accordingly I -hurried down the stairs, shading my candle as I went from a cold draught -of air which met me, and grew stronger as I descended; until reaching -the bottom at last, I came abruptly upon an open door, and an old, -wrinkled, shrivelled woman. - -The hag screamed at sight of me, and crouched down on the floor; and -doubtless, with my drawn sword, and the blood dripping from my chin -and staining all the front of my doublet, I looked fierce and uncanny -enough. But I felt it was no time for sensibility--I was panting to be -away--and I demanded of her sternly where they were. She seemed to have -lost her voice--through fear, perhaps--and for answer only stared at me -stupidly; but on my handling my weapon with some readiness she so far -recovered her senses as to utter two loud screams, one after the other, -and point to the door beside her. I doubted her; and yet I thought in -her terror she must be telling the truth, the more as I saw no other -door. In any case I must risk it, so, setting the candle down on the -step beside her, I passed out. - -For a moment the darkness was so intense that I felt my way with my -sword before me, in absolute ignorance where I was or on what my foot -might next rest. I was at the mercy of anyone who chanced to be lying -in wait for me; and I shivered as the cold damp wind struck my cheek and -stirred my hair. But by-and-by, when I had taken two or three steps, my -eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, and I made, out the naked boughs of -trees between myself and the sky, and guessed that I was in a garden. My -left hand, touching a shrub, confirmed me in this belief, and in another -moment I distinguished something like the outline of a path stretching -away before me. Following it rapidly--as rapidly as I dared--I came to -a corner, as it seemed to me, turned it blindly, and stopped short, -peeping into a curtain of solid blackness which barred my path, and -overhead mingled confusedly with the dark shapes of trees. But this, -too, after a brief hesitation, I made out to be a wall. Advancing to -it with outstretched hands, I felt the woodwork of a door, and, groping -about, lit presently on a loop of cord. I pulled at this, the door -yielded, and I went out. - -I found myself in a narrow, dark lane, and looking up and down -discovered, what I might have guessed before, that it, was the Ruelle -d'Arcy. But mademoiselle? Fanchette? Simon? Where were they? No one was -to be seen, Tormented by doubts, I lifted up my voice and called on them -in turn; first on mademoiselle, then on Simon Fleix. In vain; I got no -answer. High up above me I saw, as I stood back a little, lights moving -in the house I had left; and the suspicion that, after all, the enemy -had foiled me grew upon me. Somehow they had decoyed mademoiselle to -another part of the house, and then the old woman had misled me! - -I turned fiercely to the door, which I had left ajar, resolved to -re-enter by the way I had come, and have an explanation whether or no. -To my surprise--for I had not moved six paces from the door nor heard -the slightest sound--I found it not; only closed but bolted--bolted both -at top and bottom, as I discovered on trying it. - -I fell on that to kicking it furiously, desperately; partly in a tempest -of rage and chagrin, partly in the hope that I might frighten the old -woman, if it was she who had closed it, into opening it again. In vain, -of course; and presently I saw this and desisted, and, still in a whirl -of haste and excitement, set off running towards the place where I had -left Simon Fleix and the horses. It was fully six o'clock as I judged; -but some faint hope that I might find him there with mademoiselle and -her woman still lingered in my mind. I reached the end of the lane, I -ran to the very foot; of the ramparts, I looked right and left. In vain. -The place was dark, silent, deserted. - -I called 'Simon! Simon! Simon Fleix!' but my only answer was -the soughing of the wind in the eaves, and the slow tones of the -convent-bell striking Six. - - - -CHAPTER XI. THE MAN AT THE DOOR. - -There are some things, not shameful in themselves, which it shames -one to remember, and among these I count the succeeding hurry and -perturbation of that night: the vain search, without hope or clue, to -which passion impelled me, and the stubborn persistence with which -I rushed frantically from place to place long after the soberness of -reason would have had me desist. There was not, it seems to me, looking -back now, one street or alley, lane or court, in Blois which I did not -visit again and again in my frantic wanderings; not a beggar skulking -on foot that night whom I did not hunt down and question; not a wretched -woman sleeping in arch or doorway whom I did not see and scrutinise. I -returned to my mother's lodging again and again, always fruitlessly. I -rushed to the stables and rushed away again, or stood and listened -in the dark, empty stalls, wondering what had happened, and torturing -myself with suggestions of this or that. And everywhere, not only at -the North-gate, where I interrogated the porters and found that no party -resembling that which I sought had passed out, but on the PARVIS of the -Cathedral, where a guard was drawn up, and in the common streets, where -I burst in on one group and another with my queries, I ran the risk of -suspicion and arrest, and all that might follow thereon. - -It was strange indeed that I escaped arrest. The wound in my chin still -bled at intervals, staining my doublet; and as I was without my cloak, -which I had left in the house in the Rue Valois, I had nothing to cover -my disordered dress. I was keenly, fiercely anxious. Stray passers -meeting me in the glare of a torch, or seeing me hurry by the great -braziers which burned where four streets met, looked askance at me and -gave me the wall; while men in authority cried to me to stay and answer -their questions. I ran from the one and the other with the same savage -impatience, disregarding everything in the feverish anxiety which -spurred me on and impelled me to a hundred imprudences, such as at my -age I should have blushed to commit. Much of this feeling was due, no -doubt, to the glimpse I had had of mademoiselle, and the fiery words she -had spoken; more, I fancy, to chagrin and anger at the manner in which -the cup of success had been dashed at the last moment from my lips. - -For four hours I wandered through the streets, now hot with purpose, -now seeking aimlessly. It was ten o'clock when at length I gave up the -search, and, worn out both in body and mind, climbed the stairs at my -mother's lodgings and entered her room. An old woman sat by the fire, -crooning softly to herself, while she stirred something in a black pot. -My mother lay in the same heavy, deep sleep in which I had left her. I -sat down opposite the nurse (who cried out at my appearance) and asked -her dully for some food. When I had eaten it, sitting in a kind of -stupor the while, the result partly of my late exertions, and partly of -the silence which prevailed round me, I bade the woman call me if any -change took place; and then going heavily across to the garret Simon -had occupied, I lay down on his pallet, and fell into a sound, dreamless -sleep. - -The next day and the next night I spent beside my mother, watching the -life ebb fast away, and thinking with grave sorrow of her past and my -future. It pained me beyond measure to see her die thus, in a garret, -without proper attendance or any but bare comforts; the existence which -had once been bright and prosperous ending in penury and gloom, such as -my mother's love and hope and self-sacrifice little deserved. Her state -grieved me sharply on my own account too, seeing that I had formed none -of those familiar relations which men of my age have commonly formed, -and which console them for the loss of parents and forbears; Nature so -ordering it, as I have taken note, that men look forward rather -than backward, and find in the ties they form with the future full -compensation for the parting strands behind them. I was alone, -poverty-stricken, and in middle life, seeing nothing before me except -danger and hardship, and these unrelieved by hope or affection. This -last adventure, too, despite all my efforts, had sunk me deeper in the -mire; by increasing my enemies and alienating from me some to whom I -might have turned at the worst. In one other respect also it had added -to my troubles not a little; for the image of mademoiselle wandering -alone and unguarded through the streets, or vainly calling on me for -help, persisted in thrusting itself on my imagination when I least -wanted it, and came even between my mother's patient face and me. - -I was sitting beside Madame de Bonne a little after sunset on the -second day, the woman who attended her being absent on an errand, when -I remarked that the lamp, which had been recently lit, and stood on a -stool in the middle of the room, was burning low and needed snuffing. -I went to it softly, and while stooping over it, trying to improve the -light, heard a slow, heavy step ascending the stairs. The house was -quiet, and the sound attracted my full attention. I raised myself and -stood listening, hoping that this might be the doctor, who had not been -that day. - -The footsteps passed the landing below, but at the first stair of -the next flight the person, whoever it was, stumbled, and made a -considerable noise. At that, or it might be a moment later, the step -still ascending, I heard a sudden rustling behind me, and, turning -quickly with a start, saw my mother sitting up in bed. Her eyes were -open, and she seemed fully conscious; which she had not been for days, -nor indeed since the last conversation I have recorded. But her face, -though it was now sensible, was pinched and white, and so drawn with -mortal fear that I believed her dying, and sprang to her, unable to -construe otherwise the pitiful look in her straining eyes. - -'Madame,' I said, hastily passing my arm round her, and speaking with as -much encouragement as I could infuse into my voice, 'take comfort. I am -here. Your son.' - -'Hush!' she muttered in answer, laying her feeble hand on my wrist and -continuing to look, not at me, but at the door. 'Listen, Gaston! Don't -you hear? There it is again. Again!' - -For a moment I thought her mind still wandered, and I shivered, having -no fondness for hearing such things. Then I saw she was listening -intently to the sound which had attracted my notice. The step had -reached the landing by this time. The visitor, whoever it was, paused -there a moment, being in darkness, and uncertain, perhaps, of the -position of the door; but in a little while I heard him move forward -again, my mother's fragile form, clasped as it was in my embrace, -quivering with each step he took, as though his weight stirred the -house. He tapped at the door. - -I had thought, while I listened and wondered, of more than one whom this -might be: the leech, Simon Fleix, Madame Bruhl, Fresnoy even. But as the -tap came, and I felt my mother tremble in my arms, enlightenment came -with it, and I pondered no more, I knew as well as if she hail spoken -and told me. There could be only one man whose presence had such power -to terrify her, only one whose mere step, sounding through the veil, -could drag her back to consciousness and fear! And that was the man who -had beggared her, who had traded so long on her terrors. - -I moved a little, intending to cross the floor softly, that when he -opened the door he might find me face to face with him; but she detected -the movement, and, love giving her strength, she clung to my wrist so -fiercely that I had not the heart, knowing how slender was her hold on -life and how near the brink she stood, to break from her. I constrained -myself to stand still, though every muscle grew tense as a drawn -bowstring, and I felt the strong rage rising in my throat and choking me -as I waited for him to enter. - -A log on the hearth gave way with a dull sound startling in the silence. -The man tapped again, and getting no answer, for neither of us spoke, -pushed the door slowly open, uttering before he showed himself the -words, 'Dieu vous benisse!' in a voice so low and smooth I shuddered at -the sound. The next moment he came in and saw me, and, starting, stood -at gaze, his head thrust slightly forward, his shoulders bent, his hand -still on the latch, amazement and frowning spite in turn distorting -his lean face. He had looked to find a weak, defenceless woman, whom he -could torture and rob at his will; he saw instead a strong man armed, -whose righteous anger he must have been blind indeed had he failed to -read. - -Strangest thing of all, we had met before! I knew him at once--he me. He -was the same Jacobin monk whom I had seen at the inn on the Claine, and -who had told me the news of Guise's death! - -I uttered an exclamation of surprise on making this discovery, and my -mother, freed suddenly, as it seemed, from the spell of fear, which had -given her unnatural strength, sank back on the bed. Her grasp relaxed, -and her breath came and went with so loud a rattle that I removed my -gaze from him, and bent over her, full of concern and solicitude. Our -eyes met. She tried to speak, and at last gasped, 'Not now, Gaston! Let -him--let him--' - -Her lips framed the word 'go,' but she could not give it sound. I -understood, however, and in impotent wrath I waved my hand to him to -begone. When I looked up he had already obeyed me. He had seized the -first opportunity to escape. The door was closed, the lamp burned -steadily, and we were alone. - -I gave her a little Armagnac, which stood beside the bed for such an -occasion, and she revived, and presently opened her eyes. But I saw at -once a great change in her. The look of fear had passed altogether from -her face, and one of sorrow, yet content, had taken its place. She laid -her hand in mine, and looked up at me, being too weak, as I thought, -to speak. But by-and-by, when the strong spirit had done its work, she -signed to me to lower my head to her mouth. - -'The King of Navarre,' she murmured-you are sure, Gaston--he will retain -you is your--employments?' - -Her pleading eyes were so close to mine, I felt no scruples such as some -might have felt, seeing her so near death; but I answered firmly and -cheerfully, 'Madame, I am assured of it. There is no prince in Europe so -trustworthy or so good to his servants.' - -She sighed with infinite content, and blessed him in a feeble whisper. -'And if you live,' she went on, 'you will rebuild the old house, Gaston. -The walls are sound yet. And the oak in the hall was not burned. There -is a chest of linen at Gil's, and a chest with your father's gold -lace--but that is pledged,' she added dreamily. 'I forgot.' - -'Madame,' I answered solemnly, 'it shall be done--it shall be done as -you wish, if the power lie with me.' - -She lay for some time after that murmuring prayers, her head supported -on my shoulder. I longed impatiently for the nurse to return, that I -might despatch her for the leech; not that I thought anything could be -done, but for my own comfort and greater satisfaction afterwards, and -that my mother might not die without some fitting attendance. The house -remained quiet, however, with that impressive quietness which sobers the -heart at such times, and I could not do this. And about six o'clock my -mother opened her eyes again. - -'This is not Marsac,' she murmured abruptly, her eyes roving from the -ceiling to the wall at the foot of the bed. - -No, Madame,' I answered, leaning over her, 'you are in Blois. But I am -here--Gaston, your son.' - -She looked at me, a faint smile of pleasure stealing over her pinched -face. 'Twelve thousand livres a year,' she whispered, rather to herself -than to me, 'and an establishment, reduced a little, yet creditable, -very creditable.' For a moment she seemed to be dying in my arms, but -again opened her eyes quickly and looked me in the face. 'Gaston?' she -said, suddenly and strangely. 'Who said Gaston? He is with the King--I -have blessed him; and his days shall be long in the land!' Then, raising -herself in my arms with a last effort of strength, she cried loudly, -'Way there! Way for my son, the Sieur de Marsac!' - -They were her last words. When I laid her down on the bed a moment -later, she was dead, and I was alone. - -Madame de Bonne, my mother, was seventy at the time of her death, having -survived my father eighteen years. She was Marie de Loche de Loheac, -third daughter of Raoul, Sieur de Loheac, on the Vilaine, and by her -great-grandmother, a daughter of Jean de Laval, was descended from the -ducal family of Rohan, a relationship which in after-times, and under -greatly altered circumstances, Henry Duke of Rohan condescended to -acknowledge, honouring me with his friendship on more occasions than -one. Her death, which I have here recorded, took place on the fourth -of January, the Queen-Mother of France, Catherine de Medicis, dying a -little after noon on the following day. - -In Blois, as in every other town, even Paris itself, the Huguenots -possessed at this time a powerful organisation; and with the aid of the -surgeon, who showed me much respect in my bereavement, and exercised in -my behalf all the influence which skilful and honest; men of his craft -invariably possess, I was able to arrange for my mother's burial in a -private ground about a league beyond the walls and near the village -of Chaverny. At the time of her death I had only thirty crowns in gold -remaining, Simon Fleix, to whose fate I could obtain no clue, having -carried off thirty-five with the horses. The whole of this residue, -however, with the exception of a handsome gratuity to the nurse and a -trifle spent on my clothes, I expended on the funeral, desiring that -no stain should rest on my mother's birth or my affection. Accordingly, -though the ceremony was of necessity private, and indeed secret, and -the mourners were few, it lacked nothing, I think, of the decency and -propriety which my mother loved; and which she preferred, I have often -heard her say, to the vulgar show that is equally at the command of the -noble and the farmer of taxes. - -Until she was laid in her quiet resting-place I stood in constant fear -of some interruption on the part either of Bruhl, whose connection with -Fresnoy and the abduction I did not doubt, or of the Jacobin monk. -But none came; and nothing happening to enlighten me as to the fate of -Mademoiselle de la Vire, I saw my duty clear before me. I disposed of -the furniture of my mother's room, and indeed of everything which -was saleable, and raised in this way enough money to buy myself a new -cloak--without which I could not travel in the wintry weather--and to -hire a horse. Sorry as the animal was, the dealer required security, and -I had none to offer. It was only at the last moment, I bethought me of -the fragment of gold chain which mademoiselle had left behind her, and -which, as well as my mother's rings and vinaigrette, I had kept back -from the sale. This I was forced to lodge with him. Having thus, with -some pain and more humiliation, provided means for the journey, I lost -not an hour in beginning it. On the eighth of January I set oat for -Rosny, to carry the news of my ill-success and of mademoiselle's -position whither I had looked a week before to carry herself. - - - -CHAPTER XII. MAXIMILIAN DE BETHUNE, BARON DE ROSNY. - -I looked to make the journey to Rosny in two days. But the heaviness of -the roads and the sorry condition of my hackney hindered me so greatly -that I lay the second night at Dreux, and, hearing the way was still -worse between that place and my destination, began to think that I -should be fortunate if I reached Rosny by the following noon. The -country in this part seemed devoted to the League, the feeling -increasing in violence as I approached the Seine. I heard nothing save -abuse of the King of France and praise of the Guise princes, and had -much ado, keeping a still tongue and riding modestly, to pass without -molestation or inquiry. - -Drawing near to Rosny, on the third morning, through a low marshy -country covered with woods and alive with game of all kinds, I began to -occupy myself with thoughts of the reception I was likely to encounter; -which, I conjectured, would be none of the most pleasant. The daring -and vigour of the Baron de Rosny, who had at this time the reputation of -being in all parts of France at once, and the familiar terms on which he -was known to live with the King of Navarre, gave me small reason to hope -that he would listen with indulgence to such a tale as I had to tell. -The nearer I came to the hour of telling it, indeed, the more improbable -seemed some of its parts, and the more glaring my own carelessness in -losing the token, and in letting mademoiselle out of my sight in such -a place as Blois. I saw this so clearly now, and more clearly as the -morning advanced, that I do not know that I ever anticipated anything -with more fear than this explanation; which it yet seemed my duty to -offer with all reasonable speed. The morning was warm, I remember; -cloudy, yet not dark; the air near at hand full of moisture and very -clear, with a circle of mist rising some way off, and filling the woods -with blue distances. The road was deep and foundrous, and as I was -obliged to leave it from time to time in order to pass the worst places, -I presently began to fear that I had strayed into a by-road. After -advancing some distance, in doubt whether I should persevere or turn -back, I was glad to see before me a small house placed at the junction -of several woodland paths. From the bush which hung over the door, and a -water-trough which stood beside it, I judged the place to be an inn; and -determining to get my horse fed before I went farther, I rode up to the -door and rapped on it with my riding-switch. - -The position of the house was so remote that I was surprised to see -three or four heads thrust immediately out of a window. For a moment I -thought I should have done better to have passed by; but the landlord -coming out very civilly, and leading the way to a shed beside the house, -I reflected that I had little to lose, and followed him. I found, as I -expected, four horses tied up in the shed, the bits hanging round their -necks and their girths loosed; while my surprise was not lessened by the -arrival, before I had fastened up my own horse, of a sixth rider, who, -seeing us by the shed, rode up to us, and saluted me as he dismounted. - -He was a tall, strong man in the prime of youth, wearing a plain, almost -mean suit of dust-coloured leather, and carrying no weapons except a -hunting-knife, which hung in a sheath at his girdle. He rode a powerful -silver-roan horse, and was splashed to the top of his high untanned -boots, as if he had come by the worst of paths, if by any. - -He cast a shrewd glance at the landlord as he led his horse into the -shed; and I judged from his brown complexion and quick eyes that he had -seen much weather and lived an out-of-door life. - -He watched me somewhat curiously while I mixed the fodder for my horse; -and when I went into the house and sat down in the first room I came to, -to eat a little bread-and-cheese which I had in my pouch, he joined -me almost immediately. Apparently he could not stomach my poor fare, -however, for after watching me for a time in silence, switching his boot -with his whip the while, he called the landlord, and asked him, in a -masterful way, what fresh meat he had, and particularly if he had any -lean collops, or a fowl. - -The fellow answered that there was nothing. His honour could have some -Lisieux cheese, he added, or some stewed lentils. - -'His honour does not want cheese,' the stranger answered peevishly, 'nor -lentil porridge. And what is this I smell, my friend?' he continued, -beginning suddenly to sniff with vigour. 'I swear I smell cooking.' - -'It is the hind-quarter of a buck, which is cooking for the four -gentlemen of the Robe; with a collop or two to follow,' the landlord -explained; and humbly excused himself on the ground that the gentlemen -had strictly engaged it for their own eating. - -'What? A whole quarter! AND a collop or two to follow!' the stranger -retorted, smacking his lips. 'Who are they?' - -'Two advocates and their clerks from the Parliament of Paris. They have -been viewing a boundary near here, and are returning this afternoon,' -the landlord answered. - -'No reason why they should cause a famine!' ejaculated the stranger with -energy. 'Go to them and say a gentleman, who has ridden far, and fasted -since seven this morning, requests permission to sit at their table. A -quarter of venison and a collop or two among four!' he continued, in a -tone of extreme disgust, 'It is intolerable! And advocates! Why, at that -rate, the King of France should eat a whole buck, and rise hungry! Don't -you agree with me, sir?' he continued, turning on me and putting the -question abruptly. - -He was so comically and yet so seriously angry, and looked so closely at -me as he spoke, that I hastened to say I agreed with him perfectly. - -'Yet you eat cheese, sir!' he retorted irritably. - -I saw that, not withstanding the simplicity of his dress, he was a -gentleman, and so, forbearing to take offence, I told him plainly that -my purse being light I travelled rather as I could than as I would. - -'Is it so?' he answered hastily. 'Had I known that, I would have joined -you in the cheese! After all, I would rather fast with a gentleman, than -feast with a churl. But it is too late now. Seeing you mix the fodder, I -thought your pockets were full.' - -'The nag is tired, and has done its best,' I answered. - -He looked at me curiously, and as though he would say more. But the -landlord returning at that moment, he turned to him instead. - -'Well!' he said briskly. 'Is it all right?' - -'I am sorry, your honour,' the man answered, reluctantly, and with a -very downcast air, 'but the gentlemen beg to be excused.' - -'Zounds!' cried my companion roundly. 'They do, do they?' - -'They say they have no more, sir,' the landlord continued, faltering, -'than enough for themselves and a little dog they have with them.' - -A shout of laughter which issued at that moment from the other room -seemed to show that the quartette were making merry over my companion's -request. I saw his cheek redden, and looked for an explosion of anger on -his part; but instead he stood a moment in thought in the middle of the -floor, and then, much to the innkeeper's relief, pushed a stool towards -me, and called for a bottle of the best wine. He pleasantly begged -leave to eat a little of my cheese, which he said looked better than the -Lisieux, and, filling my glass with wine, fell to as merrily as if he -had never heard of the party in the other room. - -I was more than a little surprised, I remember; for I had taken him to -be a passionate man, and not one to sit down under an affront. Still I -said nothing, and we conversed very well together. I noticed, however, -that he stopped speaking more than once, as though to listen; but -conceiving that he was merely reverting to the party in the other room, -who grew each moment more uproarious, I said nothing, and was completely -taken by surprise when he rose on a sudden, and, going to the open -window, leaned out, shading his eyes with his hand. - -'What is it?' I said, preparing to follow him. - -He answered by a quiet chuckle. 'You shall see,' he added the next -instant. - -I rose, and going to the window looked out over his shoulder. Three -men were approaching the inn on horseback. The first, a great burly, -dark-complexioned man with fierce black eyes and a feathered cap, had -pistols in his holsters and a short sword by his side. The other two, -with the air of servants, were stout fellows, wearing green doublets and -leather breeches. All three rode good horses, while a footman led two -hounds after them in a leash. On seeing us they cantered forward, the -leader waving his bonnet. - -'Halt, there!' cried my companion, lifting up his voice when they were -within a stone's throw of us. 'Maignan!' - -'My lord?' answered he of the feather, pulling up on the instant. - -'You will find six horses in the shed there,' the stranger cried in a -voice of command. 'Turn out the four to the left as you go in. Give each -a cut, and send it about its business!' - -The man wheeled his horse before the words were well uttered, and crying -obsequiously 'that it was done,' flung his reins to one of the other -riders and disappeared in the shed, as if the order given him were the -most commonplace one in the world. - -The party in the other room, however, by whom all could be heard, were -not slow to take the alarm. They broke into a shout of remonstrance, and -one of their number, leaping from the window, asked with a very fierce -air what the devil we meant. The others thrust out their faces, swollen -and flushed with the wine they had drunk, and with many oaths backed up -his question. Not feeling myself called upon to interfere, I prepared to -see something diverting. - -My companion, whose coolness surprised me, had all the air of being as -little concerned as myself. He even persisted for a time in ignoring the -angry lawyer, and, turning a deaf ear to all the threats and abuse with -which the others assailed him, continued to look calmly at the prospect. -Seeing this, and that nothing could move him, the man who had jumped -through the window, and who seemed the most enterprising of the party, -left us at last and ran towards the stalls. The aspect of the two -serving-men, however, who rode up grinning, and made as if they would -ride him down, determined him to return; which he did, pale with fury, -as the last of the four horses clattered out, and after a puzzled look -round trotted off at its leisure into the forest. - -On this, the man grew more violent, as I have remarked frightened men -do; so that at last the stranger condescended to notice him. - -'My good sir,' he said coolly, looking at him through the window as if -he had not seen him before, 'you annoy me. What is the matter?' - -The fellow retorted with a vast amount of bluster, asking what the devil -we meant by turning out his horses. - -'Only to give you and the gentlemen with you a little exercise,' my -companion answered, with grim humour, and in a severe tone strange in -one so young--'than which nothing is more wholesome after a full meal. -That, and a lesson in good manners. Maignan,' he continued, raising -his voice, 'if this person has anything more to say, answer him. He is -nearer your degree than mine.' - -And leaving the man to slink away like a whipped dog--for the mean are -ever the first to cringe--my friend turned from the window. Meeting my -eyes as he went back to his seat, he laughed. 'Well,' he said, 'what do -you think?' - -'That the ass in the lion's skin is very well till it meets the lion,' I -answered. - -He laughed again, and seemed pleased, as I doubt not he was. 'Pooh, -pooh!' he said. 'It passed the time, and I think I am quits with my -gentlemen now. But I must be riding. Possibly our roads may lie for a -while in the same direction, sir?' And he looked at me irresolutely. - -I answered cautiously that I was going to the town of Rosny. - -'You are not from Paris?' he continued, still looking at me. - -'No,' I answered. 'I am from the south.' - -'From Blois, perhaps?' - -I nodded. - -'Ah!' he said, making no comment, which somewhat surprised me, all men -at this time desiring news, and looking to Blois for it. 'I am riding -towards Rosny also. Let us be going.' - -But I noticed that as we got to horse, the man he called Maignan holding -his stirrup with much formality, he turned and looked at me more than -once with an expression in his eye which I could not interpret; so -that, being in an enemy's country, where curiosity was a thing to be -deprecated, I began to feel somewhat uneasy. However, as he presently -gave way to a fit of laughter, and seemed to be digesting his late -diversion at the inn, I thought no more of it, finding him excellent -company and a man of surprising information. - -Notwithstanding this my spirits began to flag as I approached Rosny; and -as on such occasions nothing is more trying than the well-meant rallying -of a companion ignorant of our trouble, I felt rather relief than regret -when he drew rein at four cross-roads a mile or so short of the town, -and, announcing that here our paths separated, took a civil leave of me, -and went his way with his servants. - -I dismounted at an inn at the extremity of the town, and, stopping -only to arrange my dress and drink a cup of wine, asked the way to the -Chateau, which was situate, I learned, no more than a third of a mile -away. I went thither on foot by way of an avenue of trees leading up -to a drawbridge and gateway. The former was down, but the gates were -closed, and all the formalities of a fortress in time of war were -observed on my admission, though the garrison appeared to consist only -of two or three serving-men and as many foresters. I had leisure after -sending in my name to observe that the house was old and partly -ruinous, but of great strength, covered in places with ivy, and closely -surrounded by woods. A staid-looking page came presently to me, and led -me up a narrow staircase to a parlour lighted by two windows, looking, -one into the courtyard, the other towards the town. There a tall man was -waiting to receive me, who rose on my entrance and came forward. Judge -of my surprise when I recognised my acquaintance of the afternoon! 'M. -de Rosny?' I exclaimed, standing still and looking at him in confusion. - -'The same, sir,' he answered, with a quiet smile. 'You come from the -King of Navarre, I believe? and on an errand to me. You may speak -openly. The king has no secrets from me.' - -There was something in the gravity of his demeanour as he waited for me -to speak: which strongly impressed me; notwithstanding that he was ten -years younger than myself, and I had seen him so lately in a lighter -mood. I felt that his reputation had not belied him--that here was a -great man; and reflecting with despair on the inadequacy of the tale I -had to tell him, I paused to consider in what terms I should begin. He -soon put an end to this, however. 'Come, sir,' he said with impatience. -'I have told you that you may speak out. You should have been here four -days ago, as I take it. Now you are here, where is the lady?' - -'Mademoiselle de la Vire?' I stammered, rather to gain time than with -any other object. - -'Tut, tut!' he rejoined, frowning. 'Is there any other lady in the -question? Come, sir, speak out. Where have you left her? This is no -affair of gallantry,' he continued, the harshness of his demeanour -disagreeably surprising me, 'that you need beat about the bush. The king -entrusted to you a lady, who, I have no hesitation in telling you now, -was in possession of certain State secrets. It is known that she escaped -safely from Chize and arrived safely at Blois. Where is she?' - -'I would to Heaven I knew, sir!' I exclaimed in despair, feeling the -painfulness of my position increased a hundred fold by his manner. 'I -wish to God I did.' - -'What is this?' he cried in a raised voice. 'You do not know where she -is? You jest, M. de Marsac.' - -'It were a sorry jest,' I answered, summoning up a rueful smile. And on -that, plunging desperately into the story which I have here set down, I -narrated the difficulties under which I had raised my escort, the manner -in which I came to be robbed of the gold token, how mademoiselle was -trepanned, the lucky chance by which I found her again, and the final -disappointment. He listened, but listened throughout with no word of -sympathy--rather with impatience, which grew at last into derisive -incredulity. When I had done he asked me bluntly what I called myself. - -Scarcely understanding what he meant, I repeated my name. - -He answered, rudely and flatly, that it was impossible. I do not believe -it, sir!' he repeated, his brow dark. 'You are not the man. You bring -neither the lady nor the token, nor anything else by which I can test -your story. Nay, sir, do not scowl at me,' he continued sharply. 'I am -the mouthpiece of the King of Navarre, to whom this matter is of the -highest importance. I cannot believe that the man whom he would choose -would act so. This house you prate of in Blois, for instance, and the -room with the two doors? What were you doing while mademoiselle was -being removed?' - -'I was engaged with the men of the house,' I answered, striving to -swallow the anger which all but choked me. 'I did what I could. Had the -door given way, all would have been well.' - -He looked at me darkly. 'That is fine talking!' he said with a sneer. -Then he dropped his eyes and seemed for a time to fall into a brown -study, while I stood before him, confounded by this new view of the -case, furious, yet not knowing how to vent my fury, cut to the heart by -his insults, yet without hope or prospect of redress. - -'Come' he said harshly, after two or three minutes of gloomy reflection -on his part and burning humiliation on mine, 'is there anyone here who -can identify you, or in any other way confirm your story, sir? Until I -know how the matter stands I can do nothing.' - -I shook my head in sullen shame. I might protest against his brutality -and this judgment of me, but to what purpose while he sheltered himself -behind his master? - -'Stay!' he said presently, with an abrupt gesture of remembrance. 'I had -nearly forgotten. I have some here who have been lately at the King of -Navarre's Court at St. Jean d'Angely. If you still maintain that you -are the M. de Marsac to whom this commission was entrusted, you will -doubtless have no objection to seeing them?' - -On this I felt myself placed in a most cruel dilemma if I refused to -submit my case to the proposed ordeal, I stood an impostor confessed. -If I consented to see these strangers, it was probable they would not -recognise me, and possible that they might deny me in terms calculated -to make my position even worse, if that might be. I hesitated but, Rosny -standing inexorable before me awaiting an answer, I finally consented. - -'Good!' he said curtly. 'This way, if you please. They are here. The -latch is tricky. Nay, sir, it is my house.' - -Obeying the stern motion of his hand, I passed before him into the next -room, feeling myself more humiliated than I can tell by this reference -to strangers. For a moment I could see no one. The day was waning, the -room I entered was long and narrow, and illuminated only by a glowing -fire. Besides I was myself, perhaps, in some embarrassment. I believed -that my conductor had made a mistake, or that his guests had departed, -and I turned towards him to ask for an explanation. He merely pointed -onwards, however, and I advanced; whereupon a young and handsome lady, -who had been seated in the shadow of the great fireplace, rose suddenly, -as if startled, and stood looking at me, the glow of the burning wood -falling on one side of her face and turning her hair to gold. - -'Well!' M. de Rosny said, in a voice which sounded a little odd in my -ears. 'You do not know madame, I think?' - -I saw that she was a complete stranger to me, and bowed to her without -speaking. The lady saluted me in turn ceremoniously and in silence. - -'Is there no one else here who should know you?' M. de Rosny continued, -in a tone almost of persiflage, and with the same change in his voice -which had struck me before; but now it was more marked. 'If not, M. de -Marsac, I am afraid--But first look round, look round, sir; I would not -judge any man hastily.' - -He laid his hand on my shoulder as he finished in a manner so familiar -and so utterly at variance with his former bearing that I doubted if I -heard or felt aright. Yet I looked mechanically at the lady, and seeing -that her eyes glistened in the firelight, and that she gazed at me very -kindly, I wondered still more; falling, indeed, into a very confusion -of amazement. This was not lessened but augmented a hundredfold when, -turning in obedience to the pressure of de Rosny's hand, I saw beside -me, as if she had risen from the floor, another lady--no other than -Mademoiselle de la Vire herself! She had that moment stepped out of the -shadow of the great fireplace, which had hitherto hidden her, and stood -before me curtseying prettily, with the same look on her face and in her -eyes which madame's wore. - -'Mademoiselle!' I muttered, unable to take my eyes from her. - -'Mais oui, monsieur, mademoiselle,' she answered, curtseying lower, with -the air of a child rather than a woman. - -'Here?' I stammered, my mouth open, my eyes staring. - -'Here, sir--thanks to the valour of a brave man,' she answered, speaking -in a voice so low I scarcely heard her. And then, dropping her eyes, -she stepped back into the shadow, as if either she had said too much -already, or doubted her composure were she to say more. She was so -radiantly dressed, she looked in the firelight more like a fairy than -a woman, being of small and delicate proportions; and she seemed in -my eyes so different a person, particularly in respect of the softened -expression of her features, from the Mademoiselle de la Vire whom I had -known and seen plunged in sloughs and bent to the saddle with fatigue, -that I doubted still if I had seen aright, and was as far from -enlightenment as before. - -It was M. de Rosny himself who relieved me from the embarrassment I was -suffering. He embraced me in the most kind and obliging manner, and this -more than once; begging me to pardon the deception he had practised upon -me, and to which he had been impelled partly by the odd nature of our -introduction at the inn, and partly by his desire to enhance the joyful -surprise he had in store for me. 'Come,' he said presently, drawing me -to the window, 'let me show you some more of your old friends.' - -I looked out, and saw below me in the courtyard my three horses drawn up -in a row, the Cid being bestridden by Simon Fleix, who, seeing me, waved -a triumphant greeting. A groom stood at the head of each horse, and on -either side was a man with a torch. My companion laughed gleefully. -'It was Maignan's arrangement,' he said. 'He has a quaint taste in such -things.' - -After greeting Simon Fleix a hundred times, I turned back into the room, -and, my heart overflowing with gratitude and wonder, I begged M. de -Rosny to acquaint me with the details of mademoiselle's escape. - -'It was the most simple thing in the world,' he said, taking me by the -hand and leading me back to the hearth. 'While you were engaged with -the rascals, the old woman who daily brought mademoiselle's food grew -alarmed at the uproar, and came into the room to learn what it was. -Mademoiselle, unable to help you, and uncertain of your success, thought -the opportunity too good to be lost. She forced the old woman to show -her and her maid the way out through the garden. This done, they ran -down a lane, as I understand, and came immediately upon the lad with the -horses, who recognised them and helped them to mount. They waited some -minutes for you, and then rode off.' - -'But I inquired at the gate,' I said. - -'At which gate?' inquired M. de Rosny, smiling. - -'The North-gate, of course,' I answered. - -'Just so,' he rejoined with a nod. 'But they went out through the -West-gate and made a circuit. He is a strange lad, that of yours below -there. He has a head on his shoulder, M. de Marsac. Well, two leagues -outside the town they halted, scarcely knowing how to proceed. By good -fortune, however, a horse-dealer of my acquaintance was at the inn. -He knew Mademoiselle de la Vire, and, hearing whither she was bound, -brought her hither without let or hindrance.' - -'Was he a Norman?' I asked, - -M. de Rosny nodded, smiling at me shrewdly. 'Yes,' he said, 'he told -me much about you. And now let me introduce you to my wife, Madame de -Rosny.' - -He led me up to the lady who had risen at my entrance, and who now -welcomed me as kindly as she had before looked on me, paying me many -pleasant compliments. I gazed at her with interest, having heard much -of her beauty and of the strange manner in which M. de Rosny, being -enamoured of two young ladies, and chancing upon both while lodging in -different apartments at an inn, had decided which he should visit and -make his wife. He appeared to read what was in my mind, for as I bowed -before her, thanking her for the obliging things which she had uttered, -and which for ever bound me to her service, he gaily pinched her ear, -and said, 'When you want a good wife, M. de Marsac, be sure you turn to -the right.' - -He spoke in jest, and having his own case only in his mind. But I, -looking mechanically in the direction he indicated, saw mademoiselle -standing a pace or two to my right in the shadow of the great -chimney-piece. I know not whether she frowned more or blushed more; -but this for certain, that she answered my look with one of sharp -displeasure, and, turning her back on me, swept quickly from the room, -with no trace in her bearing of that late tenderness and gratitude which -I had remarked. - - - -CHAPTER XIII. AT ROSNY. - -The morning brought only fresh proofs of the kindness which M. de -Rosny had conceived for me. Awaking early I found on a stool beside -my clothes, a purse of gold containing a hundred crowns; and a youth -presently entering to ask me if I lacked anything, I had at first some -difficulty in recognising Simon Fleix, so sprucely was the lad dressed, -in a mode resembling Maignan's. I looked at the student more than once -before I addressed him by his name; and was as much surprised by -the strange change I observed in him for it was not confined to his -clothes--as by anything which had happened since I entered the house. I -rubbed my eyes, and asked him what he had done with his soutane. 'Burned -it, M. de Marsac,' he answered briefly. - -I saw that he had burned much, metaphorically speaking, besides his -soutane. He was less pale, less lank, less wobegone than formerly, and -went more briskly. He had lost the air of crack-brained disorder which -had distinguished him, and was smart, sedate, and stooped less. Only the -odd sparkle remained in his eyes, and bore witness to the same nervous, -eager spirit within. - -'What are you going to do, then, Simon?' I asked, noting these changes -curiously. - -'I am a soldier,' he answered, 'and follow M. de Marsac.' - -I laughed. 'You have chosen a poor service, I am afraid,' I said, -beginning to rise; 'and one, too, Simon, in which it is possible you may -be killed. I thought that would not suit you,' I continued, to see what -he would say. But he answered nothing, and I looked at him in great -surprise. 'You have made up your mind, then, at last?' I said. - -'Perfectly,' he answered. - -'And solved all your doubts?' - -'I have no doubts.' - -'You are a Huguenot?' - -'That is the only true and pure religion,' he replied gravely. And with -apparent sincerity and devotion he repeated Beza's Confession of Faith. - -This filled me with profound astonishment, but I said no more at the -time, though I had my doubts. I waited until I was alone with M. de -Rosny, and then I unbosomed myself on the matter; expressing my surprise -at the suddenness of the conversion, and at such a man, as I had found -the student to be, stating his views so firmly and steadfastly, and with -so little excitement. Observing that M. de Rosny smiled but answered -nothing, I explained myself farther. - -'I am surprised,' I said, 'because I have always heard it maintained -that clerkly men, becoming lost in the mazes of theology, seldom find -any sure footing; that not one in a hundred returns to his old faith, or -finds grace to accept a new one. I am speaking only of such, of course, -as I believe this lad to be--eager, excitable brains, learning much, and -without judgment to digest what they learn.' - -'Of such I also believe it to be true,' M. de Rosny answered, still -smiling. 'But even on them a little influence, applied at the right -moment, has much effect, M. de Marsac.' - -'I allow that,' I said. 'But my mother, of whom I have spoken to you, -saw much of this youth. His fidelity to her was beyond praise. Yet her -faith, though grounded on a rock, had no weight with him.' - -M. de Rosny shook his head, still smiling. - -'It is not our mothers who convert us,' he said. - -'What!' I cried, my eyes opened. 'Do you mean--do you mean that -Mademoiselle has done this?' - -'I fancy so,' he answered, nodding. 'I think my lady cast her spell over -him by the way. The lad left Blois with her, if what you say be true, -without faith in the world. He came to my hands two days later the -stoutest of Huguenots. It is not hard to read this riddle.' - -'Such, conversions are seldom lasting,' I said. - -He looked at me queerly; and, the smile still hovering about his lips, -answered 'Tush, man! Why so serious? Theodore Beza himself could not -look dryer. The lad is in earnest, and there is no harm done.' - -And, Heaven knows, I was in no mood to suspect harm; nor inclined -just then to look at the dark side of things. It may be conceived how -delightful it was to me to be received as an equal and honoured guest by -a man, even then famous, and now so grown in reputation as to overshadow -all Frenchmen save his master; how pleasant to enjoy the comforts and -amiabilities of home, from which I had been long estranged; to pour my -mother's story into Madame's ears and find comfort in her sympathy; to -feel myself, en fin, once more a gentleman with an acknowledged place -in the world. Our days we spent in hunting, or excursions of some -kind, our evenings in long conversations, which impressed me with an -ever-growing respect for my lord's powers. - -For there seemed to be no end either to his knowledge of France, or to -the plans for its development, which even then filled his brain, and -have since turned wildernesses into fruitful lands, and squalid towns -into great cities. Grave and formal, he could yet unbend; the most -sagacious of counsellors, he was a soldier also, and loved the seclusion -in which we lived the more that it was not devoid of danger; the -neighbouring towns being devoted to the League, and the general disorder -alone making it possible for him to lie unsuspected in his own house. - -One thing only rendered my ease and comfort imperfect, and that was -the attitude which Mademoiselle de la Vire assumed towards me. Of her -gratitude in the first blush of the thing I felt no doubt, for not only -had she thanked me very prettily, though with reserve, on the evening of -my arrival, but the warmth of M. de Rosny's kindness left me no choice, -save to believe that she had given him an exaggerated idea of my merits -and services. I asked no more than this. Such good offices left me -nothing to expect or desire; my age and ill-fortune placing me at so -great a disadvantage that, far from dreaming of friendship or intimacy -with her, I did not even assume the equality in our daily intercourse to -which my birth, taken by itself, entitled me. Knowing that I must appear -in her eyes old, poor, and ill-dressed, and satisfied, with having -asserted my conduct and honour, I was careful not to trespass on her -gratitude; and while forward in such courtesies as could not weary -her, I avoided with equal care every appearance of pursuing her, or -inflicting my company upon her. I addressed her formally and upon formal -topics only, such, I mean, as we shared with the rest of our company; -and I reminded myself often that though we now met in the same house -and at the same table, she was still the Mademoiselle de la Vire who had -borne herself so loftily in the King of Navarre's ante-chamber. This -I did, not out of pique or wounded pride, which I no more, God knows, -harboured against her than against a bird; but that I might not in my -new prosperity forget the light in which such a woman, young, spoiled, -and beautiful, must still regard me. - -Keeping to this inoffensive posture, I was the more hurt when I found -her gratitude fade with the hour. After the first two days, during which -I remarked that she was very silent, seldom speaking to me or looking at -me, she resumed much of her old air of disdain. For that I cared little; -but she presently went farther, and began to rake up the incidents which -had happened at St. Jean d'Angely, and in which I had taken part. She -continually adverted to my poverty while there, to the odd figure I had -cut, and the many jests her friends had made at my expense. She seemed -to take a pleasure positively savage in these, gibing at me sometimes -so bitterly as to shame and pain me, and bring the colour to Madame de -Rosny's cheeks. - -To the time we had spent together, on the other hand, she never or -rarely referred. One afternoon, however, a week after my arrival at -Rosny, I found her sitting alone in the parlour. I had not known she -was there, and I was for withdrawing at once with a bow and a muttered -apology. But she stopped me with an angry gesture. 'I do not bite,' -she said, rising from her stool and meeting my eyes, a red spot in each -cheek. 'Why do you look at me like that? Do you know, M. de Marsac, that -I have no patience with you.' And she stamped her foot on the floor. - -'But, mademoiselle,' I stammered humbly, wondering what in the world she -meant, 'what have I done?' - -'Done?' she repeated angrily. 'Done? It is not what you have done, it is -what you are. I have no patience with you. Why are you so dull, sir? Why -are you so dowdy? Why do you go about with your doublet awry, and your -hair lank? Why do you speak to Maignan as if he were a gentleman? Why -do you look always solemn and polite, and as if all the world were a -preche? Why? Why? Why, I say?' - -She stopped from sheer lack of breath, leaving me as much astonished as -ever in my life. She looked so beautiful in her fury and fierceness too, -that I could only stare at her and wonder dumbly what it all meant. - -'Well!' she cried impatiently, after bearing this as long as she could, -'have you not a word to say for yourself? Have you no tongue? Have you -no will of your own at all, M. de Marsac?' - -'But, mademoiselle,' I began, trying to explain. - -'Chut!' she exclaimed, cutting me short before I could get farther, as -the way of women is. And then she added, in a changed tone, and very -abruptly, 'You have a velvet knot of mine, sir. Give it me.' - -'It is in my room,' I answered, astonished beyond measure at this sudden -change of subject, and equally sudden demand. - -'Then fetch it, sir, if you please,' she replied, her eyes flashing -afresh. 'Fetch it. Fetch it, I say! It has served its turn, and I prefer -to have it. Who knows but that some day you may be showing it for a -love-knot?' - -'Mademoiselle!' I cried, hotly. And I think that for the moment I was as -angry as she was. - -'Still, I prefer to have it,' she answered sullenly, casting down her -eyes. - -I was so much enraged, I went without a word and fetched it, and, -bringing it to her where she stood, in the same place, put it into her -hands. When she saw it some recollection, I fancy, of the day when she -had traced the cry for help on it, came to her in her anger; for she -took it from me with all her bearing altered. She trembled, and held it -for a moment in her hands, as if she did not know what to do with it. -She was thinking, doubtless, of the house in Blois and the peril she had -run there; and, being for my part quite willing that she should think -and feel how badly she had acted, I stood looking at her, sparing her no -whit of my glance. - -'The gold chain you left on my mother's pillow,' I said coldly, seeing -she continued silent, 'I cannot return to you at once, for I have -pledged it. But I will do so as soon as I can.' - -'You have pledged it?' she muttered, with her eyes averted. - -'Yes, mademoiselle, to procure a horse to bring me here,' I replied -drily. 'However, it, shall be redeemed. In return, there is something I -too would ask.' - -'What?' she murmured, recovering herself with all effort, and looking at -me with something of her old pride and defiance. - -'The broken coin you have,' I said. 'The token, I mean. It is of no use -to you, for your enemies hold the other half. It might be of service to -me.' - -'How?' she asked curtly. - -'Because some day I may find its fellow, mademoiselle,' - -'And then?' she cried. She looked at me, her lips parted, her eyes -flashing. 'What then, when you have found its fellow, M. de Marsac?' - -I shrugged my shoulders. - -'Bah!' she exclaimed, clenching her little hand, and stamping her foot -on the floor in a passion I could not understand. 'That is you! That is -M. de Marsac all over. You say nothing, and men think nothing of you. -You go with your hat in your hand, and they tread on you. They speak, -and you are silent! Why, if I could use a sword as you can, I would keep -silence before no man, nor let any man save the King of France cock his -hat in my presence! But you! There! go, leave me. Here is your coin. -Take it and go. Send me that lad of yours to keep me awake. At any rate -he has brains, he is young, he is a man, he has a soul, he can feel--if -he were anything but a clerk.' - -She waved me off in such a wind of passion as might have amused me in -another, but in her smacked so strongly of ingratitude as to pain me -not a little. I went, however, and sent Simon to her; though I liked the -errand very ill, and no better when I saw the lad's face light up at -the mention of her name. But apparently she had not recovered her temper -when he reached her, for he fared no better than I had done; coming away -presently with the air of a whipped dog, as I saw from the yew-tree walk -where I was strolling. - -Still, after that she made it a habit to talk to him more and more; and, -Monsieur and Madame de Rosny being much taken up with one another, there -was no one to check her fancy or speak a word of advice. Knowing her -pride, I had no fears for her; but it grieved me to think that the lad's -head should be turned. A dozen times I made up my mind to speak to her -on his behalf; but for one thing it was not my business, and for another -I soon discovered that she was aware of my displeasure, and valued it -not a jot. For venturing one morning, when she was in a pleasant humour, -to hint that she treated those beneath her too inhumanly, and with an -unkindness as little becoming noble blood as familiarity, she asked me -scornfully if I did not think she treated Simon Fleix well enough. To -which I had nothing to answer. - -I might here remark on the system of secret intelligence by means of -which M. de Rosny, even in this remote place, received news of all that -was passing in France. But it is common fame. There was no coming or -going of messengers, which would quickly have aroused suspicion in the -neighbouring town, nor was it possible even for me to say exactly by -what channels news came. But come it did, and at all hours of the day. -In this way we heard of the danger of La Ganache and of the effort -contemplated by the King of Navarre for its relief. M. de Rosny not -only communicated these matters to me without reserve, but engaged -my affections by farther proofs of confidence such as might well have -flattered a man of greater importance. - -I have said that, as a rule, there was no coming or going of messengers. -But one evening, returning from the chase with one of the keepers, who -had prayed my assistance in hunting down a crippled doe, I was surprised -to find a strange horse, which had evidently been ridden hard and far, -standing smoking in the yard. Inquiring whose it was, I learned that -a man believed by the grooms to be from Blois had just arrived and was -closeted with the baron. An event so far out of the ordinary course of -things naturally aroused my wonder; but desiring to avoid any appearance -of curiosity, which, if indulged, is apt to become the most vulgar of -vices, I refrained from entering the house, and repaired instead to the -yew-walk. I had scarcely, however, heated my blood, a little chilled -with riding, before the page came to me to fetch me to his master. - -I found M. de Rosny striding up and down his room, his manner so -disordered and his face disfigured by so much grief and horror that I -started on seeing him. My heart sinking in a moment, I did not need to -look at Madame, who sat weeping silently in a chair, to assure myself -that something dreadful had happened. The light was failing, and a lamp -had been brought into the room. M. de Rosny pointed abruptly to a -small piece of paper which lay on the table beside it, and, obeying his -gesture, I took this up and read its contents, which consisted of less -than a score of words. - -'He is ill and like to die,' the message ran, 'twenty leagues south of -La Ganache. Come at all costs. P. M. - -'Who?' I said stupidly--stupidly, for already I began to understand. Who -is ill and like to die?' - -M. de Rosny turned to me, and I saw that the tears were trickling -unbidden down his cheeks. 'There is but one HE for me,' he cried. 'May -God spare that one! May He spare him to France, which needs him, to the -Church, which hangs on him, and to me, who love him! Let him not fall -in the hour of fruition. O Lord, let him not fall!' And he sank on to -a stool, and remained in that posture with his face in his hands, his -broad shoulders shaken with grief. - -'Come, sir,' I said, after a pause sacred to sorrow and dismay; 'let me -remind you that while there is life there is hope.' - -'Hope?' - -'Yes, M. de Rosny, hope,' I replied more cheerfully. 'He has work to -do. He is elected, called, and chosen; the Joshua of his people, as M. -d'Amours rightly called him. God will not take him yet. You shall see -him and be embraced by him, as has happened a hundred times. Remember, -sir, the King of Navarre is strong, hardy, and young, and no doubt in -good hands.' - -'Mornay's,' M. de Rosny cried, looking up with contempt in his eye. - -Yet from that moment he rallied, spurred, I think, by the thought that -the King of Navarre's recovery depended under God on M. de Mornay; whom -he was ever inclined to regard as his rival. He began to make instant -preparations for departure from Rosny, and bade me do so also, telling -me, somewhat curtly and without explanation, that he had need of me. The -danger of so speedy a return to the South, where the full weight of the -Vicomte de Turenne's vengeance awaited me, occurred to me strongly; and -I ventured, though with a little shame, to mention it. But M. de Rosny, -after gazing at me a moment in apparent doubt, put the objection aside -with a degree of peevishness unusual in him, and continued to press on -his arrangements as earnestly as though they did not include separation -from a wife equally loving and beloved. - -Having few things to look to myself, I was at leisure, when the hour of -departure came, to observe both the courage with which Madame de -Rosny supported her sorrow, 'for the sake of France,' and the unwonted -tenderness which Mademoiselle de la Vire, lifted for once above herself, -lavished on her. I seemed to stand--happily in one light, and yet the -feeling was fraught with pain--outside their familiar relations; yet, -having made my adieux as short and formal as possible, that I might -not encroach on other and more sacred ones, I found at the last moment -something in waiting for me. I was surprised as I rode under the gateway -a little ahead of the others, by something small and light falling -on the saddle-bow before me. Catching it before it could slide to the -ground, I saw, with infinite astonishment, that I held in my hand a tiny -velvet bow. - -To look up at the window of the parlour, which I have said was over the -archway, was my first impulse. I did so, and met mademoiselle's eyes for -a second, and a second only. The next moment she was gone. M. de Rosny -clattered through the gate at my heels, the servants behind him. And we -were on the road. - - - -CHAPTER XIV. M. DE RAMBOUILLET. - -For a while we were but a melancholy party. The incident I have last -related which seemed to admit of more explanations than one--left me -in a state of the greatest perplexity; and this prevailed with me for a -time, and was only dissipated at length by my seeing my own face, as it -were, in a glass. For, chancing presently to look behind me, I observed -that Simon Fleix was riding, notwithstanding his fine hat and feather -and his new sword, in a posture and with an air of dejection difficult -to exaggerate; whereon the reflection that master and man had the same -object in their minds--nay, the thought that possibly he bore in his -bosom a like token to that which lay warm in mine--occurring to me, I -roused myself as from some degrading dream, and, shaking up the Cid, -cantered forward to join Rosny, who, in no cheerful mood himself, was -riding steadily forward, wrapped to his eyes in his cloak. - -The news of the King of Navarre's illness had fallen on him, indeed, in -the midst of his sanguine scheming with the force of a thunderbolt. -He saw himself in danger of losing at once the master he loved and the -brilliant future to which he looked forward; and amid the imminent crash -of his hopes and the destruction of the system in which he lived, he had -scarcely time to regret the wife he was leaving at Rosny or the quiet -from which he was so suddenly called. His heart was in the South, at La -Ganache, by Henry's couch. His main idea was to get there quickly at all -risks. The name of the King of Navarre's physician was constantly on his -lips. 'Dortoman is a good man. If anyone call save him, Dortoman will,' -was his perpetual cry. And whenever he met anyone who had the least -appearance of bearing news, he would have me stop and interrogate him, -and by no means let the traveller go until he had given us the last -rumour from Blois--the channel through which all the news from the South -reached us. - -An incident which occurred at the inn that evening cheered him somewhat; -the most powerful minds being prone, I have observed, to snatch at omens -in times of uncertainty. An elderly man, of strange appearance, and -dressed in an affected and bizarre fashion, was seated at table when we -arrived. Though I entered first in my assumed capacity of leader of the -party, he let me pass before him without comment, but rose and solemnly -saluted M. de Rosny, albeit the latter walked behind me and was much -more plainly dressed. Rosny returned his greeting and would have passed -on; but the stranger, interposing with a still lower bow, invited him to -take his seat, which was near the fire and sheltered from the draught, -at the same time making as if he would himself remove to another place. - -'Nay,' said my companion, surprised by such an excess of courtesy, 'I do -not see why I should take your place, sir.' - -'Not mine only,' the old man rejoined, looking at him with a -particularity and speaking with an emphasis which attracted our -attention, 'but those of many others, who I can assure you will very -shortly yield them up to you, whether they will or not.' - -M. de Rosny shrugged his shoulders and passed on, affecting to suppose -the old man wandered. But privately he thought much of his words, and -more when he learned that he was an astrologer from Paris, who had the -name, at any rate in this country, of having studied under Nostradamus. -And whether he drew fresh hopes from this, or turned his attention more -particularly as we approached Blois to present matters, certainly he -grew more cheerful, and began again to discuss the future, as though -assured of his master's recovery. - -'You have never been to the King's Court?' he said presently, following -up, as I judged, a train of thought in his own mind. 'At Blois, I mean.' - -'No; nor do I feel anxious to visit it,' I answered. 'To tell you the -truth, M. le Baron,' I continued with some warmth, 'the sooner me are -beyond Blois, the better I shall be pleased. I think we run some risk -there, and, besides, I do not fancy a shambles. I do not think I could -see the king without thinking of the Bartholomew, nor his chamber -without thinking of Guise.' - -'Tut, tut!' he said, 'you have killed a man before now.' - -'Many,' I answered. - -'Do they trouble you?' - -'No, but they were killed in fair fight,' I replied, 'That makes a -difference.' - -'To you,' he said drily. 'But you are not the King of France, you see. -Should you ever come across him,' he continued, flicking his horse's -ears, a faint smile on his lips, 'I will give you a hint. Talk to him of -the battles at Jarnac and Moncontour, and praise your Conde's father! As -Conde lost the fight and, he won it, the compliment comes home to him. -The more hopelessly a man has lost his powers, my friend, the more -fondly he regards them, and the more highly he prizes the victories he -call no longer gain.' - -'Ugh!' I muttered. - -'Of the two parties at Court,' Rosny continued, calmly overlooking my -ill-humour, 'trust D'Aumont and Biron and the French clique. They are -true to France at any rate. But whomsoever you see consort with the two -Retzs--the King of Spain's jackals as men name them--avoid him for a -Spaniard and a traitor.' - -'But the Retzs are Italians,' I objected peevishly. - -'The same thing,' he answered curtly. 'They cry, "Vive le Roi!" but -privately they are for the League, or for Spain, or for whatever may -most hurt us; who are better Frenchmen than themselves, and whose leader -will some day, if God spare his life, be King of France.' - -'Well, the less I have to do with the one or the other of them, save at -the sword's point, the better I shall be pleased,' I rejoined. - -On that he looked at me with a queer smile; as was his way when he had -more in his mind than appeared. And this, and something special in the -tone of his conversation, as well, perhaps, as my own doubts about my -future and his intentions regarding me, gave me an uneasy feeling; -which lasted through the day, and left me only when more immediate peril -presently rose to threaten us. - -It happened in this way. We had reached the outskirts of Blois, and were -just approaching the gate, hoping to pass through it without attracting -attention, when two travellers rode slowly out of a lane, the mouth of -which we were passing. They eyed us closely as they reined in to let -us go by; and M. de Rosny, who was riding with his horse's head at my -stirrup, whispered me to press on. Before I could comply, however, the -strangers cantered by us, and turning in the saddle when abreast of us -looked us in the face. A moment later one of them cried loudly, 'It is -he!' and both pulled their horses across the road, and waited for us to -come up. - -Aware that if M. de Rosny were discovered he would be happy if he -escaped with imprisonment, the king being too jealous of his Catholic -reputation to venture to protect a Huguenot, however illustrious, I saw -that the situation was desperate; for, though we were five to two, -the neighbourhood of the city--the gate being scarcely a bow-shot -off--rendered flight or resistance equally hopeless. I could think of -nothing for it save to put a bold face on the matter, and, M. de Rosny -doing the same, we advanced in the most innocent way possible. - -'Halt, there!' cried one of the strangers sharply. 'And let me tell you, -sir, you are known.' - -'What if I am?' I answered impatiently, still pressing on. 'Are you -highwaymen, that you stop the way?' - -The speaker on the other side looked at me keenly, but in a moment -retorted, 'Enough trifling, sir! Who YOU are I do not know. But the -person riding at your rein is M. de Rosny. Him I do know, and I warn him -to stop.' - -I thought the game was lost, but to my surprise my companion answered -at once and almost in the same words I had used. 'Well, sir, and what of -that?' he said. - -'What of that?' the stranger exclaimed, spurring his horse so as still -to bar the way. 'Why, only this, that you must be a madman to show -yourself on this side of the Loire.' - -'It is long since I have seen the other,' was my companion's unmoved -answer. - -'You are M. de Rosny? You do not deny it?' the man cried in -astonishment. - -'Certainly I do not deny it,' M. de Rosny answered bluntly. 'And more, -the day has been, sir,' he continued with sudden fire, 'when few at his -Majesty's Court would have dared to chop words with Solomon de Bethune, -much less to stop him on the highway within a mile of the palace. But -times are changed with me, sir, and it would seem with others also, if -true men rallying to his Majesty in his need are to be challenged by -every passer on the road.' - -'What! Are you Solomon de Bethune?' the man cried incredulously. -Incredulously, but his countenance fell, and his voice was full of -chagrin and disappointment, - -'Who else, sir?' M. de Rosny replied haughtily. 'I am, and, as far as I -know, I have as much right on this side of the Loire as any other man.' - -'A thousand pardons.' - -'If you are not satisfied--' - -'Nay, M. de Rosny, I am perfectly satisfied.' - -The stranger repented this with a very crestfallen air, adding, 'A -thousand pardons'; and fell to making other apologies, doffing his hat -with great respect. 'I took you, if you will pardon me saying so, for -your Huguenot brother, M. Maximilian,' he explained. 'The saying goes -that he is at Rosny.' - -'I can answer for that being false,' M. de Rosny answered peremptorily, -'for I have just come from there, and I will answer for it he is not -within ten leagues of the place. And now, sir, as we desire to enter -before the gates shut, perhaps you will excuse us.' With which he bowed, -and I bowed, and they bowed, and we separated. They gave us the road, -which M. de Rosny took with a great air, and we trotted to the gate, and -passed through it without misadventure. - -The first street we entered was a wide one, and my companion took -advantage of this to ride up abreast of me. 'That is the kind of -adventure our little prince is fond of,' he muttered. 'But for my part, -M. de Marsac, the sweat is running down my forehead. I have played the -trick more than once before, for my brother and I are as like as two -peas. And yet it would have gone ill with us if the fool had been one of -his friends.' - -'All's well that ends well,' I answered in a low voice, thinking it an -ill time for compliments. As it was, the remark was unfortunate, for M. -de Rosny was still in the act of reining back when Maignan called out to -us to say we were being followed. - -I looked behind, but could see nothing except gloom and rain and -overhanging eaves and a few figures cowering in doorways. The servants, -however, continued to maintain that it was so, and we held, without -actually stopping, a council of war. If detected, we were caught in a -trap, without hope of escape; and for the moment I am sure M. do Rosny -regretted that he had chosen this route by Blois--that he had thrust -himself, in his haste and his desire to take with him the latest news, -into a snare so patent. The castle--huge, dark, and grim--loomed before -us at the end of the street in which we were, and, chilled as I was -myself by the sight, I could imagine how much more appalling it must -appear to him, the chosen counsellor of his master, and the steadfast -opponent of all which it represented. - -Our consultation came to nothing, for no better course suggested -itself than to go as we had intended to the lodging commonly used by my -companion. We did so, looking behind us often, and saying more than once -that Maignan must be mistaken. As soon as we had dismounted, however, -and gone in, he showed us from the window a man loitering near; and -this confirmation of our alarm sending us to our expedients again, while -Maignan remained watching in a room without a light, I suggested that I -might pass myself off, though ten years older, for my companion. - -'Alas!' he said, drumming with his fingers on the table 'there are too -many here who know me to make that possible. I thank you all the same.' - -'Could you escape on foot? Or pass the wall anywhere, or slip through -the gates early?' I suggested. - -'They might tell us at the Bleeding Heart,' he answered. But I doubt it. -I was a fool, sir, to put my neck into Mendoza's halter, and that is a -fact. But here is Maignan. What is it, man?' he continued eagerly. - -'The watcher is gone, my lord,' the equerry answered. - -'And has left no one?' - -'No one that I can see.' - -We both went into the next room and looked from the windows. The man -was certainly not where we had seen him before. But the rain was falling -heavily, the eaves were dripping, the street was a dark cavern with -only here and there a spark of light, and the fellow might be lurking -elsewhere. Maignan, being questioned, however, believed he had gone off -of set purpose. - -'Which may be read half a dozen ways,' I remarked. - -'At any rate, we are fasting,' M. de Rosny answered. Give me a full man -in a fight. Let us sit down and eat. It is no good jumping in the dark, -or meeting troubles half way.' - -We were not through our meal, however, Simon Fleix waiting on us with a -pale face, when Maignan came in again from the dark room. 'My lord,' he -said quietly, 'three men have appeared. Two of them remain twenty paces -away. The third has come to the door.' As he spoke we heard a cautious -summons below, Maignan was for going down, but his master bade him -stand. Let the woman of the house go,' he said. - -I remarked and long remembered M. de Rosny's SANG-FROID on this -occasion. His pistols he had already laid on a chair beside him throwing -his cloak over them; and now, while we waited, listening in breathless -silence, I saw him hand a large slice of bread-and-meat to his equerry, -who, standing behind his chair, began eating it with the same coolness. -Simon Fleix, on the other hand, stood gazing at the door, trembling in -every limb, and with so much of excitement and surprise in his attitude -that I took the precaution of bidding him, in a low voice, do nothing -without orders. At the same moment it occurred to me to extinguish two -of the four candles which had been lighted; and I did so, M. de Rosny -nodding assent, just as the muttered conversation which was being -carried on below ceased, and a man's tread sounded on the stairs. - -It was followed immediately by a knock on the outside of our door. -Obeying my companion's look, I cried, 'Enter!' - -A slender man of middle height, booted and wrapped up, with his face -almost entirely hidden by a fold of his cloak, came in quickly, and -closing the door behind him, advanced towards the table. 'Which is M. de -Rosny?' he said. - -Rosny had carefully turned his face from the light, but at the sound -of the other's voice he sprang up with a cry of relief. He was about to -speak, when the newcomer, raising his hand peremptorily, continued, 'No -names, I beg. Yours, I suppose, is known here. Mine is not, nor do I -desire it should be. I want speech of you, that is all.' - -'I am greatly honoured,' M. de Rosny replied, gazing at him eagerly. -'Yet, who told you I was here?' - -'I saw you pass under a lamp in the street,' the stranger answered. 'I -knew your horse first, and you afterwards, and bade a groom follow you. -Believe me,' he added, with a gesture of the hand, 'you have nothing to -fear from me.' - -'I accept the assurance in the spirit in which it is offered,' my -companion answered with a graceful bow, 'and think myself fortunate -in being recognised'--he paused a moment and then continued--'by a -Frenchman and a man of honour.' - -The stranger shrugged his shoulders. 'Your pardon, then,' he said, 'if I -seem abrupt. My time is short. I want to do the best with it I can. Will -you favour me?' - -I was for withdrawing, but M. de Rosny ordered Maignan to place lights -in the next room, and, apologising to me very graciously, retired -thither with the stranger, leaving me relieved indeed by these peaceful -appearances, but full of wonder and conjectures who this might be, and -what the visit portended. At one moment I was inclined to identify -the stranger with M. de Rosny's brother; at another with the English -ambassador; and then, again, a wild idea that he might be M. de Bruhl -occurred to me. The two remained together about a quarter of an hour and -then came out, the stranger leading the way, and saluting me politely -as he passed through the room. At the door he turned to say, 'At nine -o'clock, then?' - -'At nine o'clock,' M. de Rosny replied, holding the door open. 'You will -excuse me if I do not descend, Marquis?' - -'Yes, go back, my friend,' the stranger answered. And, lighted by -Maignan, whose face on such occasions could assume the most stolid air -in the world, he disappeared down the stairs, and I heard him go out. - -M. de Rosny turned to me, his eyes sparkling with joy, his face and mien -full of animation. 'The King of Navarre is better,' he said. 'He is said -to be out of danger. What do you think of that, my friend?' - -'That is the best news I have heard for many a day,' I answered. And I -hastened to add, that France and the Religion had reason to thank God -for His mercy. - -'Amen to that,' my patron replied reverently. 'But that is not all--that -is not all.' And he began to walk up and down the room humming the 118th -Psalm a little above his breath-- - - La voici l'heureuse journee - Que Dieu a faite a plein desir; - Par nous soit joie demenee, - Et prenons en elle plaisir. - -He continued, indeed, to walk up and down the floor so long, and with so -joyful a countenance and demeanour, that I ventured, at last to remind -him of my presence, which he had clearly forgotten. 'Ha! to be sure,' -he said, stopping short and looking at me with the utmost good-humour. -'What time is it? Seven. Then until nine o'clock, my friend, I crave -your indulgence. En fin, until that time I must keep counsel. Come, -I am hungry still. Let us sit down, and this time I hope we may not be -interrupted. Simon, set us on a fresh bottle. Ha! ha! VIVENT LE ROI ET -LE ROI DE NAVARRE!' And again he fell to humming the same psalm-- - - O Dieu eternel, je te prie, - Je te prie, ton roi maintiens: - O Dieu, je te prie et reprie, - Sauve ton roi et l'entretiens! - -doing so with a light in his eyes and a joyous emphasis, which impressed -me the more in a man ordinarily so calm and self-contained. I saw that -something had occurred to gratify him beyond measure, and, believing his -statement that this was not the good news from La Ganache only, I waited -with the utmost interest and anxiety for the hour of nine, which had -no sooner struck than our former visitor appeared with the same air of -mystery and disguise which had attended him before. - -M. de Rosny, who had risen on hearing his step and had taken up his -cloak, paused with it half on and half off, to cry anxiously, 'All is -well, is it not?' - -'Perfectly,' the stranger replied, with a nod. - -'And my friend?' - -Yes, on condition that you answer for his discretion and fidelity.' And -the stranger glanced involuntarily at me who stood uncertain whether to -hold my ground or retire. - -'Good,' M. de Rosny cried. Then he turned to me with a mingled air -of dignity and kindness, and continued: 'This is the gentleman. M. de -Marsac, I am honoured with permission to present you to the Marquis de -Rambouillet, whose interest and protection I beg you to deserve, for he -is a true Frenchman and a patriot whom I respect.' - -M. de Rambouillet saluted me politely. 'Of a Brittany family, I think?' -he said. - -I assented; and he replied with something complimentary. But afterwards -he continued to look at me in silence with a keenness and curiosity I -did not understand. At last, when M. de Rosny's impatience had reached -a high pitch, the marquis seemed impelled to add something. 'You quite -understand M. de Rosny?' he said. 'Without saying anything disparaging -of M. de Marsac, who is, no doubt, a man of honour'--and he bowed to me -very low--'this is a delicate matter, and you will introduce no one into -it, I am sure, whom you cannot trust as yourself.' - -'Precisely,' M. de Rosny replied, speaking drily, yet with a grand -air which fully matched his companion's. 'I am prepared to trust this -gentleman not only with my life but with my honour.' - -'Nothing more remains to be said then,' the marquis rejoined, bowing -to me again. 'I am glad to have been the occasion of a declaration so -flattering to you, sir.' - -I returned his salute in silence, and obeying M. de Rosny's muttered -direction put on, my cloak and sword. M. de Rosny took up his pistols. - -'You will have no need of those,' the Marquis said with a high glance. - -'Where we are going, no,' my companion answered, calmly continuing to -dispose them about him. 'But the streets are dark and not too safe.' - -M. de Rambouillet laughed. 'That is the worst of you Huguenots,' he -said. 'You never know when to lay suspicion aside.' - -A hundred retorts sprang to my lips. I thought of the Bartholomew, of -the French fury of Antwerp, of half a dozen things which make my blood -boil to this day. But M. de Rosny's answer was the finest of all. -'That is true, I am afraid,' he said quietly. 'On the other hand, you -Catholics--take the late M. de Guise for instance--have the habit of -erring on the other side, I think, and sometimes trust too far.' - -The marquis, without making any answer to this home-thrust, led the way -out, and we followed, being joined at the door of the house by a couple -of armed lackeys, who fell in behind us. We went on foot. The night was -dark, and the prospect out of doors was not cheering. The streets were -wet and dirty, and notwithstanding all our care we fell continually into -pitfalls or over unseen obstacles. Crossing the PARVIS of the cathedral, -which I remembered, we plunged in silence into an obscure street near -the river, and so narrow that the decrepit houses shut out almost -all view of the sky. The gloom of our surroundings, no less than my -ignorance of the errand on which we were bound, filled me with anxiety -and foreboding. My companions keeping strict silence, however, and -taking every precaution to avoid being recognised, I had no choice but -to do likewise. - -I could think, and no more. I felt myself borne along by an irresistible -current, whither and for what purpose I could not tell; an experience to -an extent strange at my age the influence of the night and the weather. -Twice we stood aside to let a party of roisterers go by, and the -excessive care M. de Rambouillet evinced on these occasions to avoid -recognition did not tend to reassure me or make me think more lightly of -the unknown business on which I was bound. - -Reaching at last an open space, our leader bade us in a low voice be -careful and follow him closely. We did so and crossed in this way and in -single file a narrow plank or wooden bridge; but whether water ran below -or a dry ditch only, I could not determine. My mind was taken up at the -moment with the discovery which I had just made, that the dark building, -looming huge and black before us with a single light twinkling here and -there at great heights, was the Castle of Blois. - - - -CHAPTER XV. VILAIN HERODES. - -All the distaste and misliking I had expressed earlier in the day for -the Court of Blois recurred with fresh force in the darkness and gloom; -and though, booted and travel-stained as we were, I did not conceive it -likely that we should be obtruded on the circle about the king, I felt -none the less an oppressive desire to be through with our adventure, and -away from the ill-omened precincts in which I found myself. The darkness -prevented me seeing the faces of my companions; but on M. de Rosny, who -was not quite free himself, I think, from the influences of the time -and place, twitching my sleeve to enforce vigilance, I noted that the -lackeys had ceased to follow us, and that we three were beginning -to ascend a rough staircase cut in the rock. I gathered, though the -darkness limited my view behind as well as in front to a few twinkling -lights, that we were mounting the scarp from the moat; to the side wall -of the castle; and I was not surprised when the marquis muttered to us -to stop, and knocked softly on the wood of a door. - -M. de Rosny might have spared the touch he had laid on my sleeve, for by -this time I was fully and painfully sensible of the critical position in -which we stood, and was very little likely to commit an indiscretion. I -trusted he had not done so already! No doubt--it flashed across me while -we waited--he had taken care to safeguard himself. But how often, I -reflected, had all safeguards been set aside and all precautions eluded -by those to whom he was committing himself! Guise had thought himself -secure in this very building, which we were about to enter. Coligny had -received the most absolute of safe-conducts from those to whom we -were apparently bound. The end in either case had been the same--the -confidence of the one proving of no more avail than the wisdom of the -other. What if the King of France thought to make his peace with his -Catholic subjects--offended by the murder of Guise--by a second murder -of one as obnoxious to them as he was precious to their arch-enemy in -the South? Rosny was sagacious indeed; but then I reflected with sudden -misgiving that he was young, ambitious, and bold. - -The opening of the door interrupted without putting an end to this -train of apprehension. A faint light shone out; so feebly as to illumine -little more than the stairs at our feet. The marquis entered at once, M. -de Rosny followed, I brought up the rear; and the door was closed by a -man who stood behind it. We found ourselves crowded together at the foot -of a very narrow staircase, which the doorkeeper--a stolid pikeman in a -grey uniform, with a small lanthorn swinging from the crosspiece of -his halberd--signed to us to ascend. I said a word to him, but he only -stared in answer, and M. de Rambouillet, looking back and seeing what I -was about, called to me that it was useless, as the man was a Swiss and -spoke no French. - -This did not tend to reassure me; any more than did the chill roughness -of the wall which my hand touched as I groped upwards, or the smell -of bats which invaded my nostrils and suggested that the staircase was -little used and belonged to a part of the castle fitted for dark and -secret doings. - -We stumbled in the blackness up the steps, passing one door and then a -second before M. de Rambouillet whispered to us to stand, and knocked -gently at a third. - -The secrecy, the darkness, and above all the strange arrangements made -to receive us, filled me with the wildest conjectures. But when the -door opened and we passed one by one into a bare, unfurnished, draughty -gallery, immediately, as I judged, under the tiles, the reality agreed -with no one of my anticipations. The place was a mere garret, without a -hearth, without a single stool. Three windows, of which one was roughly -glazed, while the others were filled with oiled paper, were set in one -wall; the others displaying the stones and mortar without disguise or -ornament. Beside the door through which we had entered stood a silent -figure in the grey uniform I had seen below, his lanthorn on the floor -at his feet. A second door at the farther end of the gallery, which -was full twenty paces long, was guarded in like manner. A couple of -lanthorns stood in the middle of the floor, and that was all. - -Inside the door, M. de Rambouillet with his finger on his lip stopped -us, and we stood a little group of three a pace in front of the sentry, -and with the empty room before us. I looked at M. de Rosny, but he was -looking at Rambouillet. The marquis had his back towards me, the sentry -was gazing into vacancy; so that baffled in my attempt to learn anything -from the looks of the other actors in the scene, I fell back on my ears. -The rain dripped outside and the moaning wind rattled the casements; but -mingled with these melancholy sounds--which gained force, as such things -always do, from the circumstances in which we were placed and our own -silence--I fancied I caught the distant hum of voices and music and -laughter. And that, I know not why, brought M. de Guise again to my -mind. - -The story of his death, as I had heard it from that accursed monk in the -inn on the Claine, rose up in all its freshness, with all its details. -I started when M. de Rambouillet coughed. I shivered when Rosny shifted -his feet. The silence grew oppressive. Only the stolid men in grey -seemed unmoved, unexpectant; so that I remember wondering whether it was -their nightly duty to keep guard over an empty garret, the floor strewn -with scraps of mortar and ends of tiles. - -The interruption, when it came at last, came suddenly. The sentry at the -farther end of the gallery started and fell back a pace. Instantly the -door beside him opened and a man came in, and closing it quickly behind -him, advanced up the room with an air of dignity, which even his strange -appearance and attire could not wholly destroy. - -He was of good stature and bearing, about forty years old as I judged, -his wear a dress of violet velvet with black points cut in the extreme -of the fashion. He carried a sword but no ruff, and had a cup and ball -of ivory--a strange toy much in vogue among the idle--suspended from his -wrist by a ribbon. He was lean and somewhat narrow, but so far I found -little fault with him. It was only when my eye reached his face, and -saw it rouged like a woman's and surmounted by a little turban, that a -feeling of scarcely understood disgust seized me, and I said to myself, -'This is the stuff of which kings' minions are made!' - -To my surprise, however, M. de Rambouillet went to meet him with the -utmost respect, sweeping the dirty floor with his bonnet, and bowing -to the very ground. The newcomer acknowledged his salute with negligent -kindness. Remarking pleasantly 'You have brought a friend, I think?' he -looked towards us with a smile. - -'Yes, sire, he is here,' the marquis answered, stepping aside a little. -And with the word I understood that this was no minion, but the king -himself: Henry, the Third of the name, and the last of the great House -of Valois, which had ruled France by the grace of God for two centuries -and a half! I stared at him, and stared at him, scarcely believing what -I saw. For the first time in my life I was in the presence of the king! - -Meanwhile M. de Rosny, to whom he was, of course, no marvel, had gone -forward and knelt on one knee. The king raised him graciously, and with -an action which, viewed apart from his woman's face and silly turban, -seemed royal and fitting. 'This is good of you, Rosny,' he said. 'But it -is only what I expected of you.' - -'Sire,' my companion answered, 'your Majesty has no more devoted servant -than myself, unless it be the king my master.' - -'By my faith,' Henry answered with energy--'and if I am not a good -churchman, whatever those rascally Parisians say, I am nothing--by my -faith, I think I believe you!' - -'If your Majesty would believe me in that and in some other things -also,' M. de Rosny answered, 'it would be very well for France.' Though -he spoke courteously, he threw so much weight and independence into -his words that I thought of the old proverb, 'A good master, a bold -servant.' - -'Well, that is what we are here to see,' the king replied. 'But one -tells me one thing,' he went on fretfully, 'and one another, and which -am I to believe?' - -'I know nothing of others, sire,' Rosny answered with the same spirit. -'But my master has every claim to be believed. His interest in the -royalty of France is second only to your Majesty's. He is also a king -and a kinsman, and it erks him to see rebels beard you, as has happened -of late.' - -'Ay, but the chief of them?' Henry exclaimed, giving way to sudden -excitement and stamping furiously on the floor. 'He will trouble me no -more. Has my brother heard of THAT? Tell me, sir, has that news reached -him?' - -'He has heard it, sire.' - -'And he approved? He approved, of course?' - -'Beyond doubt the man was a traitor,' M. de Rosny answered delicately. -'His life was forfeit, sire. Who can question it?' - -'And he has paid the forfeit,' the king rejoined, looking down at -the floor and immediately falling into a moodiness as sudden as his -excitement. His lips moved. He muttered something inaudible, and began -to play absently with his cup and ball, his mind occupied apparently -with a gloomy retrospect. 'M. de Guise, M. de Guise,' he murmured at -last, with a sneer and an accent of hate which told of old humiliations -long remembered. 'Well, damn him, he is dead now. He is dead. But being -dead he yet troubles us. Is not that the verse, father? Ha!' with a -start, 'I was forgetting. But that is the worst wrong he has done me,' -he continued, looking up and growing excited again. 'He has cut me off -from Mother Church. There is hardly a priest comes near me now, and -presently they will excommunicate me. And, as I hope for salvation, the -Church has no more faithful son than me.' - -I believe he was on the point, forgetting M. de Rosny's presence there -and his errand, of giving way to unmanly tears, when M. de Rambouillet, -as if by accident, let the heel of his scabbard fall heavily on the -floor. The king started, and passing his hand once or twice across his -brow, seemed to recover himself. 'Well,' he said, 'no doubt we shall -find a way out of our difficulties.' - -'If your Majesty,' Rosny answered respectfully, 'would accept the aid my -master proffers, I venture to think that they would vanish the quicker.' - -'You think so,' Henry rejoined. 'Well, give me your shoulder. Let us -walk a little.' And, signing to Rambouillet to leave him, he began to -walk up and down with M. de Rosny, talking familiarly with him in an -undertone. - -Only such scraps of the conversation as fell from them when they turned -at my end of the gallery now reached me. Patching these together, -however, I managed to understand somewhat. At one turn I heard the king -say, 'But then Turenne offers--' At the next, 'Trust him? Well, I do not -know why I should not. He promises--' Then 'A Republic, Rosny? That -his plan? Pooh! he dare not. He could not. France is a kingdom by the -ordinance of God in my family.' - -I gathered from these and other chance words, which I have since -forgotten, that M. de Rosny was pressing the king to accept the help of -the King of Navarre, and warning him against the insidious offers of the -Vicomte de Turenne. The mention of a Republic, however, seemed to excite -his Majesty's wrath rather against Rosny for presuming to refer to such -a thing than against Turenne, to whom he refused to credit it. He paused -near my end of the promenade. - -'Prove it!' he said angrily. 'But can you prove it? Can you prove it? -Mind you, I will take no hearsay evidence, sir. Now, there is Turenne's -agent here--you did not know, I dare say, that he had an agent here?' - -'You refer, sire, to M. de Bruhl,' Rosny answered, without hesitation. -'I know him, sire.' - -'I think you are the devil,' Henry answered, looking curiously at him. -'You seem to know most things. But mind you, my friend, he speaks me -fairly, and I will not take this on hearsay even from your master. -Though,' he added after pausing a moment, 'I love him.' - -'And he, your Majesty. He desires only to prove it.' - -'Yes, I know, I know,' the king answered fretfully. 'I believes he does. -I believe he does wish me well. But there will be a devil of an outcry -among my people. And Turenne gives fair words too. And I do not know,' -he continued, fidgeting with his cup and ball, 'that it might not suit -me better to agree with him, you see.' - -I saw M. de Rosny draw himself up. 'Dare I speak openly to you, sire,' -he said, with less respect and more energy than he had hitherto used. -'As I should to my master?' - -'Ay, say what you like,' Henry answered. But he spoke sullenly, and it -seemed to me that he looked less pleasantly at his companion. - -'Then I will venture to utter what is in your Majesty's mind,' my patron -answered steadfastly. 'You fear, sire, lest, having accepted my master's -offer and conquered your enemies, you should not be easily rid of him.' - -Henry looked relieved. 'Do you call that diplomacy?' he said with a -smile. 'However, what if it be so? What do you say to it? Methinks I -have heard an idle tale about a horse which would hunt a stag; and for -the purpose set a man upon its back.' - -'This I say, sire, first,' Rosny answered very earnestly. 'That the King -of Navarre is popular only with one-third of the kingdom, and is only -powerful when united with you. Secondly, sire, it is his interest to -support the royal power, to which he is heir. And, thirdly, it must be -more to your Majesty's honour to accept help from a near kinsman than -from an ordinary subject, and one who, I still maintain, sire, has no -good designs in his mind.' - -'The proof' Henry said sharply. 'Give me that!' - -'I can give it in a week from this day.' - -'It must be no idle tale, mind you,' the king continued suspiciously. - -'You shall have Turenne's designs, sire, from one who had them from his -own mouth.' - -The king looked startled, but after a pause turned and resumed his walk. -'Well,' he said, 'if you do that, I on my part--' - -The rest I lost, for the two passing to the farther end of the gallery, -came to a standstill there, balking my curiosity and Rambouillet's also. -The marquis, indeed, began to betray his impatience, and the great clock -immediately over our heads presently striking the half-hour after ten, -he started and made as if he would have approached the king. He checked -the impulse, however, but still continued to fidget uneasily, losing his -reserve by-and-by so far as to whisper to me that his Majesty would be -missed. - -I had been, up to this point, a silent and inactive spectator of a -scene which appealed to my keenest interests and aroused my most ardent -curiosity. Surprise following surprise, I had begun to doubt my own -identity; so little had I expected to find myself first in the presence -of the Most Christian King--and that under circumstances as strange and -bizarre as could well be imagined--and then an authorised witness at -a negotiation upon which the future of all the great land of France -stretching for so many hundred leagues on every side of us, depended. I -say I could scarcely believe in my own identity; or that I was the same -Gaston de Marsac who had slunk, shabby and out-at-elbows, about St. Jean -d'Angely. I tasted the first sweetness of secret power, which men say is -the sweetest of all and the last relinquished; and, the hum of -distant voices and laughter still reaching me at intervals, I began to -understand why we had been admitted with, so much precaution, and to -comprehend the gratification of M. de Rosny when the promise of this -interview first presented to him the hope of effecting so much for his -master and for France. - -Now I was to be drawn into the whirlpool itself. I was still travelling -back over the different stages of the adventure which had brought me to -this point, when I was rudely awakened by M. de Rosny calling my name -in a raised voice. Seeing, somewhat late, that he was beckoning to me -to approach, I went forward in a confused and hasty fashion; kneeling -before the king as I had seen him kneel, and then rising to give ear to -his Majesty's commands. Albeit, having expected nothing less than to be -called upon, I was not in the clearest mood to receive them. Nor was my -bearing such as I could have wished it to be. - -M. de Rosny tells me that you desire a commission at Court, sir,' the -king said quickly. - -'I, sire?' I stammered, scarcely able to believe my ears. I was so -completely taken aback that I could say no more, and I stopped there -with my mouth open. - -'There are few things I can deny M. de Rosny,' Henry continued, speaking -very rapidly, 'and I am told that you are a gentleman of birth and -ability. Out of kindness to him, therefore, I grant you a commission to -raise twenty men for my service. Rambouillet,' he continued, raising -his voice slightly, 'you will introduce this gentleman to me publicly -to-morrow, that; I may carry into effect my intention on his behalf. You -may go now, sir. No thanks. And M. de Rosny,' he added, turning to my -companion and speaking with energy, 'have a care for my sake that you -are not recognised as you go. Rambouillet must contrive something to -enable you to leave without peril. I should be desolated if anything -happened to you, my friend, for I could not protect you. I give you my -word if Mendoza or Retz found you in Blois I could not save you from -them unless you recanted.' - -'I will not trouble either your Majesty or my conscience,' M. de Rosny -replied, bowing low, 'if my wits can help me.' - -'Well, the saints keep you,' the king answered piously, going towards -the door by which he had entered; 'for your master and I have both need -of you. Rambouillet, take care of him as you love me. And come early in -the morning to my closet and tell me how it has fared with him.' - -We all stood bowing while he withdrew, and only turned to retire when -the door closed behind him. Burning with indignation and chagrin as -I was at finding myself disposed of in the way I have described, and -pitchforked, whether I would or no, into a service I neither fancied -nor desired, I still managed for the present to restrain myself; and, -permitting my companions to precede me, followed in silence, listening -sullenly to their jubilations. The marquis seemed scarcely less pleased -than M. de Rosny; and as the latter evinced a strong desire to lessen -any jealousy the former might feel, and a generous inclination to -attribute to him a full share of the credit gained, I remained the -only person dissatisfied with the evening's events. We retired from the -chateau with the same precautions which had marked our entrance, and -parting with M. de Rambouillet at the door of our lodging--not without -many protestations of esteem on his part and of gratitude on that of -M. de Rosny--mounted to the first-floor in single file and in silence, -which I was determined not to be the first to break. - -Doubtless M. de Rosny knew my thoughts, for, speedily dismissing Maignan -and Simon, who were in waiting, he turned to me without preface. 'Come, -my friend,' he said, laying his hand on my shoulder and looking me in -the face in a way which all but disarmed me at once, 'do not let us -misunderstand one another. You think you have cause to be angry with me. -I cannot suffer that, for the King of Navarre had never greater need of -your services than now.' - -'You have played me an unworthy trick, sir,'I answered, thinking he -would cozen me with fair speeches. - -'Tut, tut!' he replied. 'You do not understand.' - -'I understand well enough,' I answered, with bitterness, 'that, having -done the King of Navarre's work, he would now be rid of me.' - -'Have I not told you,' M. de Rosny replied, betraying for the first time -some irritation, 'that he has greater need of your services than ever? -Come, man, be reasonable, or, better still, listen to me.' And turning -from me, he began to walk up and down the room, his hands behind him. -'the King of France--I want to make it as clear to you as possible--' -he said, 'cannot make head against the League without help, and, -willy-nilly, must look for it to the Huguenots whom he has so long -persecuted. The King of Navarre, their acknowledged leader, has offered -that help; and so, to spite my master, and prevent a combination so -happy for France, has M. de Turenne, who would fain raise the faction he -commands to eminence, and knows well how to make his profit out of the -dissensions of his country. Are you clear so far, sir?' - -I assented. I was becoming absorbed in spite of myself. - -'Very well,' he resumed. 'This evening--never did anything fall out more -happily than Rambouillet's meeting with me--he is a good man!--I -have brought the king to this: that if proof of the selfish nature of -Turenne's designs be laid before him he will hesitate no longer. That -proof exists. A fortnight ago it was here; but it is not here now.' - -'That is unlucky!' I exclaimed. I was so much interested in his story, -as well as flattered by the confidence he was placing in me, that my -ill-humour vanished. I went and stood with my shoulder against the -mantelpiece, and he, passing to and fro between me and the light, -continued his tale. - -'A word about this proof,' he said. 'It came into the King of Navarre's -hands before its full value was known to us, for that only accrued to -it on M. de Guise's death. A month ago it--this piece of evidence I -mean--was at Chize. A fortnight or so ago it was here in Blois. It -is now, 'M. de Marsac,' he continued, facing me suddenly as he came -opposite me, 'in my house at Rosny.' - -I started. 'You mean Mademoiselle de la Vire?' I cried. - -'I mean Mademoiselle de la Vire!' he answered, 'who, some month or two -ago, overheard M. de Turenne's plans, and contrived to communicate -with the King of Navarre. Before the latter could arrange a private -interview, however, M. de Turenne got wind of her dangerous knowledge, -and swept her off to Chize. The rest you know, M. de Marsac, if any man -knows it.' - -'But what will you do?' I asked. 'She is at Rosny.' - -'Maignan, whom I trust implicitly, as far as his lights go, will start -to fetch her to-morrow. At the same hour I start southwards. You, M. -de Marsac, will remain here as my agent, to watch over my interests, -to receive Mademoiselle on her arrival, to secure for her a secret -interview with the king, to guard her while she remains here. Do you -understand?' - -Did I understand? I could not find words in which to thank him. My -remorse and gratitude, my sense of the wrong I had done him, and of the -honour he was doing me, were such that I stood mute before him as I had -stood before the king. 'You accept, then?' he said, smiling. 'You do not -deem the adventure beneath you, my friend?' - -'I deserve your confidence so little, sir,' I answered, stricken to the -ground, 'that I beg you to speak, while I listen. By attending exactly -to your instructions I may prove worthy of the trust reposed in me. And -only so.' - -He embraced me again and again, with a kindness which moved me almost -to tears. 'You are a man after my own heart,' he said, 'and if God wills -I will make your fortune. Now listen, my friend. To-morrow at Court, as -a stranger and a man introduced by Rambouillet, you will be the cynosure -of all eyes. Bear yourself bravely. Pay court to the women, but attach -yourself to no one in particular. Keep aloof from Retz and the Spanish -faction, but beware especially of Bruhl. He alone will have your secret, -and may suspect your design. Mademoiselle should be here in a week; -while she is with you, and until she has seen the king, trust no one, -suspect everyone, fear all things. Consider the battle won only when the -king says, "I am satisfied."' - -Much more he told me, which served its purpose and has been forgotten. -Finally he honoured me by bidding me share his pallet with him, that we -might talk without restraint, and that if anything occurred to him in -the night he might communicate it to me. - -'But will not Bruhl denounce me as a Huguenot?' I asked him. - -'He will not dare to do so,' M. de Rosny answered, 'both as a Huguenot -himself, and as his master's representative; and, further, because it -would displease the king. No, but whatever secret harm one man can -do another, that you have to fear. Maignan, when he returns with -mademoiselle, will leave two men with you; until they come I should -borrow a couple of stout fellows from Rambouillet. Do not go out alone -after dark, and beware of doorways, especially your own.' - -A little later, when I thought him asleep, I heard him chuckle; and -rising on my elbow I asked him what it was. 'Oh, it is your affair,' -he answered, still laughing silently, so that I felt the mattress shake -under him. 'I don't envy you one part of your task, my friend.' - -'What is that?' I said suspiciously. - -'Mademoiselle,' he answered, stifling with difficulty a burst of -laughter. And after that he would not say another word, bad, good, or -indifferent, though I felt the bed shake more than once, and knew that -he was digesting his pleasantry. - - - -CHAPTER XVI. IN THE KING'S CHAMBER. - -M. de Rosny had risen from my side and started on his journey when I -opened my eyes in the morning, and awoke to the memory of the task which -had been so strangely imposed upon me; and which might, according as -the events of the next fortnight shaped themselves, raise me to high -position or put an end to my career. He had not forgotten to leave -a souvenir behind him, for I found beside my pillow a handsome -silver-mounted pistol, bearing the letter 'R.' and a coronet; nor had -I more than discovered this instance of his kindness before Simon Fleix -came in to tell me that M. de Rosny had left two hundred crowns in his -hands for me. - -'Any message with it?' I asked the lad. - -'Only that; he had taken a keepsake in exchange,' Simon answered, -opening the window as he spoke. - -In some wonder I began to search, but I could not discover that anything -was missing until I came to put on my doublet, when I found that the -knot of ribbon which mademoiselle had flung to me at my departure from -Rosny was gone from the inside of the breast, where I had pinned it for -safety with a long thorn. The discovery that M. de Rosny had taken this -was displeasing to me on more than one account. In the first place, -whether mademoiselle had merely wished to plague me (as was most -probable) or not, I was loth to lose it, my day for ladies' favours -being past and gone; in the second, I misdoubted the motive which -had led him to purloin it, and tormented myself with thinking of the -different constructions he might put upon it, and the disparaging view -of my trust worthiness which it might lead him to take. I blamed myself -much for my carelessness in leaving it where a chance eye might rest -upon it; and more when, questioning Simon further, I learned that M. -de Rosny had added, while mounting at the door, 'Tell your master, safe -bind, safe find; and a careless lover makes a loose mistress.' - -I felt my cheek burn in a manner unbecoming my years while Simon with -some touch of malice repeated this; and I made a vow on the spot, which -I kept until I was tempted to break it, to have no more to do with such -trifles. Meanwhile, I had to make the best of it; and brisking up, and -bidding Simon, who seemed depressed by the baron's departure, brisk up -also, I set about my preparations for making such a figure at Court -as became me: procuring a black velvet suit, and a cap and feather to -match; item, a jewelled clasp to secure the feather; with a yard or two -of lace and two changes of fine linen. - -Simon had grown sleek at Rosny, and losing something of the wildness -which had marked him, presented in the dress M. de Rosny had given him -a very creditable appearance; being also, I fancy, the only equerry in -Blois who could write. A groom I engaged on the recommendation of M. de -Rambouillet's master of the horse; and I gave out also that I required a -couple of valets. It needed only an hour under the barber's hands and a -set of new trappings for the Cid to enable me to make a fair show, such -as might be taken to indicate a man of ten or twelve thousand livres a -year. - -In this way I expended a hundred and fifteen crowns reflecting that -this was a large sum, and that I must keep some money for play, I was -glad to learn that in the crowded state of the city even men with high -rank were putting up with poor lodging; I determined, therefore, to -combine economy with a scheme which I had in my head by taking the rooms -in which my mother died, with one room below them. This I did, hiring -such furniture as I needed, which was not a great deal. To Simon Fleix, -whose assistance in these matters was invaluable, I passed on much of M. -de Rosny's advice, bidding him ruffle it with the best in his station, -and inciting him to labour for my advancement by promising to make his -fortune whenever my own should be assured. I hoped, indeed, to derive -no little advantage from the quickness of wit; which had attracted M. de -Rosny's attention; although I did not fail to take into account at the -same time that the lad was wayward and fitful, prone at one time to -depression, and at another to giddiness, and equally uncertain in either -mood. - -M. de Rambouillet being unable to attend the LEVEE, had appointed me to -wait upon him at six in the evening; at which hour I presented myself at -his lodgings, attended by Simon Fleix. I found him in the midst of -half a dozen gentlemen whose habit it was to attend him upon all public -occasions; and these gallants, greeting me with the same curious and -suspicious glances which I have seen hounds bestow on a strange dog -introduced into their kennel, I was speedily made to feel that it is one -thing to have business at Court, and another to be well received there. - -M. de Rambouillet, somewhat to my surprise, did nothing to remove -this impression. On all ordinary occasions a man of stiff and haughty -bearing, and thoroughly disliking, though he could not prevent, the -intrusion of a third party into a transaction which promised an infinity -of credit, he received me so coldly and with so much reserve as for the -moment to dash my spirits and throw me back on myself. - -During the journey to the castle, however, which we performed on foot, -attended by half a dozen armed servants bearing torches, I had time to -recall M. de Rosny's advice, and to bethink me of the intimacy which -that great man had permitted me; with so much effect in the way of -heartening me, that as we crossed the courtyard of the castle I -advanced myself, not without some murmuring on the part of others, to -Rambouillet's elbow, considering that as I was attached to him by the -king's command, this was my proper place. I had no desire to quarrel, -however, and persisted for some time in disregarding the nudges and -muttered words which were exchanged round me, and even the efforts which -were made as we mounted the stairs to oust me from my position. But -a young gentleman, who showed himself very forward in these attempts, -presently stumbling against me, I found it necessary to look at him. - -'Sir,' he said, in a small and lisping voice, 'you trod on my toe.' - -Though I had not done so, I begged his pardon very politely. But as his -only acknowledgment of this courtesy consisted in an attempt to get his -knee in front of mine--we were mounting very slowly, the stairs being -cumbered with a multitude of servants, who stood on either hand--I did -tread on his toe, with a force and directness which made him cry out. - -'What is the matter?' Rambouillet asked, looking back hastily. - -'Nothing, M. le Marquis,' I answered, pressing on steadfastly. - -'Sir,' my young friend said again, in the same lisping voice, 'you trod -on my toe.' - -'I believe I did, sir,' I answered. - -'You have not yet apologised,' he murmured gently in my ear. - -'Nay, there you are wrong,' I rejoined bluntly, 'for it is always my -habit to apologise first and tread afterwards.' - -He smiled as at a pleasant joke; and I am bound to say that his bearing -was so admirable that if he had been my son I could have hugged him. -'Good!' he answered. 'No doubt your sword is as sharp as your wits, -sir. I see,' he continued, glancing naively at my old scabbard--he -was himself the very gem of a courtier, a slender youth with a -pink-and-white complexion, a dark line for a moustache, and a pearl-drop -in his ear--'it is longing to be out. Perhaps you will take a turn in -the tennis-court to-morrow?' - -'With pleasure, sir,' I answered, 'if you have a father, or your elder -brother is grown up.' - -What answer he would have made to this gibe I do not know, for at that -moment we reached the door of the ante-chamber; and this being narrow, -and a sentry in the grey uniform of the Swiss Guard compelling all to -enter in single file, my young friend was forced to fall back, leaving -me free to enter alone, and admire at my leisure a scene at once -brilliant and sombre. - -The Court being in mourning for the Queen-mother, black predominated -in the dresses of those present, and set off very finely the gleaming -jewels and gemmed sword-hilts which were worn by the more important -personages. The room was spacious and lofty, hung with arras, and lit by -candles burning in silver sconces; it rang as we entered with the shrill -screaming of a parrot, which was being teased by a group occupying the -farther of the two hearths. Near them play was going on at one table, -and primero at a second. In a corner were three or four ladies, in -a circle about a red-faced, plebeian-looking man, who was playing at -forfeits with one of their number; while the middle of the room -seemed dominated by a middle-sized man with a peculiarly inflamed and -passionate countenance, who, seated on a table, was inveighing against -someone or something in the most violent terms, his language being -interlarded with all kinds of strange and forcible oaths. Two or three -gentlemen, who had the air of being his followers, stood about him, -listening between submission and embarrassment; while beside the nearer -fireplace, but at some distance from him, lounged a nobleman, very -richly dressed, and wearing on his breast the Cross of the Holy Ghost; -who seemed to be the object of his invective, but affecting to ignore it -was engaged in conversation with a companion. A bystander muttering that -Crillon had been drinking, I discovered with immense surprise that the -declaimer on the table was that famous soldier; and I was still looking -at him in wonder--for I had been accustomed all my life to associate -courage with modesty--when, the door of the chamber suddenly opening, a -general movement in that direction took place. Crillon, disregarding all -precedency, sprang from his table and hurried first to the threshold. -The Baron de Biron, on the other hand--for the gentleman by the fire was -no other--waited, in apparent ignorance of the slight which was being -put upon him, until M. de Rambouillet came up; then he went forward -with him. Keeping close to my patron's elbow, I entered the chamber -immediately behind him. - -Crillon had already seized upon the king, and, when we entered, was -stating his grievance is a voice not much lower than that which he had -used outside. M. de Biron, seeing this, parted from the marquis, and, -going aside with his former companion, sat down on a trunk against the -wall; while Rambouillet, followed by myself and three or four gentlemen -of his train, advanced to the king, who was standing near the alcove. -His Majesty seeing him, and thankful, I think, for the excuse, waved -Crillon off. 'Tut, tut! You told me all that this morning,' he said -good-naturedly. 'And here is Rambouillet, who has, I hope, something -fresh to tell. Let him speak to me. Sanctus! Don't look at me as if -you would run me through, man. Go and quarrel with someone of your own -size.' - -Crillon at this retired grumbling, and Henry, who had just risen from -primero with the Duke of Nevers, nodded to Rambouillet. 'Well, my -friend, anything fresh?' he cried. He was more at his ease and looked -more cheerful than at our former interview; yet still care and suspicion -lurked about his peevish mouth, and in the hollows under his gloomy -eyes. 'A new guest, a new face, or a new game--which have you brought?' - -'In a sense, sire, a new face,' the marquis answered, bowing, and -standing somewhat aside that I might have place. - -'Well, I cannot say much for the pretty baggage,' quoth the king -quickly. And amid a general titter he extended his hand to me. 'I'll -be sworn, though,' he continued, as I rose from my knee, 'that you want -something, my friend?' - -'Nay, sire,' I answered, holding up my head boldly--for Crillon's -behaviour had been a further lesson to me--'I have, by your leave, the -advantage. For your Majesty has supplied me with a new jest. I see many -new faces round me, and I have need only of a new game. If your Majesty -would be pleased to grant me--' - -'There! Said I not so?' cried the king, raising his hand with a laugh. -'He does want something. But he seems not undeserving. What does he -pray, Rambouillet?' - -'A small command,' M. de Rambouillet answered, readily playing his -part. 'And your Majesty would oblige me if you could grant the Sieur de -Marsac's petition. I will answer for it he is a man of experience.' - -'Chut! A small command?' Henry ejaculated, sitting down suddenly in -apparent ill-humour. 'It is what everyone wants--when they do not want -big ones. Still, I suppose,' he continued, taking up a comfit-box, which -lay beside him, and opening it, 'if you do not get what you want for him -you will sulk like the rest, my friend.' - -'Your Majesty has never had cause to complain of me,' quoth the Marquis, -forgetting his role, or too proud to play it. - -'Tut, tut, tut, tut! Take it, and trouble me no more,' the king -rejoined. 'Will pay for twenty men do for him? Very well then. There, -M. de Marsac,' he continued, nodding at me and yawning, 'your request -is granted. You will find some other pretty baggages over there. Go -to them. And now, Rambouillet,' he went on, resuming his spirits as he -turned to matters of more importance, 'here is a new sweetmeat Zamet has -sent me. I have made Zizi sick with it. Will you try it? It is flavoured -with white mulberries.' - -Thus dismissed, I fell back; and stood for a moment, at a loss whither -to turn, in the absence of either friends or acquaintances. His Majesty, -it is true, had bidden me go to certain pretty baggages, meaning, -apparently, five ladies who were seated at the farther end of the room, -diverting themselves with as many cavaliers; but the compactness of this -party, the beauty of the ladies, and the merry peals of laughter which -proceeded from them, telling of a wit and vivacity beyond the ordinary, -sapped the resolution which had borne me well hitherto. I felt that -to attack such a phalanx, even with a king's good will, was beyond the -daring of a Crillon, and I looked round to see whether I could not amuse -myself in some more modest fashion. - -The material was not lacking. Crillon, still mouthing out his anger, -strode up and down in front of the trunk on which M. de Biron was -seated; but the latter was, or affected to be, asleep. 'Crillon is for -ever going into rages now,' a courtier beside me whispered. - -'Yes,' his fellow answered, with a shrug of the shoulder; 'it is a pity -there is no one to tame him. But he has such a long reach, morbleu!' - -'It is not that so much as the fellow's fury,' the first speaker -rejoined under his breath. 'He fights like a mad thing; fencing is no -use against him.' - -The other nodded. For a moment the wild idea of winning renown by taming -M. de Crillon occurred to me as I stood alone in the middle of the -floor; but it had not more than passed through my brain when I felt -my elbow touched, and turned to find the young gentleman whom I had -encountered on the stairs standing by my side. - -'Sir,' he lisped, in the same small voice, 'I think you trod on my toe a -while ago?' - -I stared at him, wondering what he meant by this absurd repetition. -'Well, sir,' I answered drily, 'and if I did?' - -'Perhaps,' he said, stroking his chin with his jewelled fingers, -'pending our meeting to-morrow, you would allow me to consider it as a -kind of introduction?' - -'If it please you,' I answered, bowing stiffly, and wondering what he -would be at. - -'Thank you,' he answered. 'It does please me, under the circumstances; -for there is a lady here who desires a word with you. I took up her -challenge. Will you follow me?' - -He bowed, and turned in his languid fashion. I, turning too, saw, with -secret dismay, that the five ladies, referred to above, were all now -gazing at me, as expecting my approach; and this with such sportive -glances as told only too certainly of some plot already in progress or -some trick to be presently played me. Yet I could not see that I had any -choice save to obey, and, following my leader with as much dignity as I -could compass, I presently found myself bowing before the lady who sat -nearest, and who seemed to be the leader of these nymphs. - -'Nay, sir,' she said, eyeing me curiously, yet with a merry face, 'I do -not need you; I do not look so high!' - -Turning in confusion to the next, I was surprised to see before me the -lady whose lodging I had invaded in my search for Mademoiselle de la -Vire--she, I mean, who, having picked up the velvet; knot, had dropped -it so providentially where Simon Fleix found it. She looked at me -blushing and laughing, and the young gentleman, who had done her errand, -presenting me by name, she asked me, while the others listened, whether -I had found my mistress. - -Before I could answer, the lady to whom I had first addressed myself -interposed. 'Stop, sir!' she cried. What is this--a tale, a jest, a -game, or a forfeit?' - -'An adventure, madam,' I answered, bowing low. - -'Of gallantry, I'll be bound,' she exclaimed. 'Fie, Madame de Bruhl, and -you but six months married!' - -Madame de Bruhl protested, laughing, that she had no more to do with it -than Mercury. 'At the worst,' she said, 'I carried the POULETS! But I -can assure you, duchess, this gentleman should be able to tell us a very -fine story, if he would.' - -The duchess and all the other ladies clapping their hands at this, and -crying out that the story must and should be told, I found myself in -a prodigious quandary; and one wherein my wits derived as little -assistance as possible from the bright eyes and saucy looks which -environed me. Moreover, the commotion attracting other listeners, I -found my position, while I tried to extricate myself, growing each -moment worse, so that I began to fear that as I had little imagination -I should perforce have to tell the truth. The mere thought of this -threw me into a cold perspiration, lest I should let slip something of -consequence, and prove myself unworthy of the trust which M. de Rosny -had reposed in me. - -At the moment when, despairing of extricating myself, I was stooping -over Madame de Bruhl begging her to assist me, I heard, amid the babel -of laughter and raillery which surrounded me--certain of the courtiers -having already formed hands in a circle and sworn I should not depart -without satisfying the ladies--a voice which struck a chord in my -memory. I turned to see who the speaker was, and encountered no other -than M. de Bruhl himself; who, with a flushed and angry face, was -listening to the explanation which a friend was pouring into his ear. -Standing at the moment with my knee on Madame de Bruhl's stool, and -remembering very well the meeting on the stairs, I conceived in a flash -that the man was jealous; but whether he had yet heard my name, or had -any clew to link me with the person who had rescued Mademoiselle de la -Vire from his clutches, I could not tell. Nevertheless his presence led -my thoughts into a new channel. The determination to punish him began to -take form in my mind, and very quickly I regained my composure. Still I -was for giving him one chance. Accordingly I stooped once more to Madame -de Bruhl's ear, and begged her to spare me the embarrassment of telling -my tale. But then, finding her pitiless, as I expected, and the rest of -the company growing more and more insistent, I hardened my heart to go -through with the fantastic notion which had occurred to me. - -Indicating by a gesture that I was prepared to obey, and the duchess -crying for a hearing, this was presently obtained, the sudden silence -adding the king himself to my audience. 'What is it?' he asked, coming -up effusively, with a lap-dog in his arms. 'A new scandal, eh?' - -'No, sire, a new tale-teller,' the duchess answered pertly. 'If your -Majesty will sit, we shall hear him the sooner.' - -He pinched her ear and sat down in the chair which a page presented. -'What! is it Rambouillet's GRISON again?' he said with some surprise. -'Well, fire away, man. But who brought you forward as a Rabelais?' - -There was a general cry of 'Madame de Bruhl!' whereat that lady shook -her fair hair, about her face, and cried out for someone to bring her a -mask. - -'Ha, I see!' said the king drily, looking pointedly at M. de Bruhl, who -was as black as thunder. 'But go on, man.' - -The king's advent, by affording me a brief respite, had enabled me to -collect my thoughts, and, disregarding the ribald interruptions, which -at first were frequent, I began as follows: 'I am no Rabelais, sire,' I -said, 'but droll things happen to the most unlikely. Once upon a time it -was the fortune of a certain swain, whom I will call Dromio, to arrive -in a town not a hundred miles from Blois, having in his company a nymph -of great beauty, who had been entrusted to his care by her parents. He -had not more than lodged her in his apartments, however, before she -was decoyed away by a trick, and borne off against her will by a young -gallant, who had seen her and been smitten by her charms. Dromio, -returning, and finding his mistress gone, gave way to the most poignant -grief. He ran up and down the city, seeking her in every place, and -filling all places with his lamentations; but for a time in vain, until -chance led him to a certain street, where, in an almost incredible -manner, he found a clew to her by discovering underfoot a knot of -velvet, bearing Phyllida's name wrought on it in delicate needlework, -with the words, "A moi!"' - -'Sanctus!' cried the king, amid a general murmur of surprise, 'that -is well devised! Proceed, sir. Go on like that, and we will make your -twenty men twenty-five.' - -'Dromio,' I continued, 'at sight of this trifle experienced the most -diverse emotions, for while he possessed in it a clew to his mistress's -fate, he had still to use it so as to discover the place whither she had -been hurried. It occurred to him at last to begin his search with the -house before which the knot had lain. Ascending accordingly to the -second-floor, he found there a fair lady reclining on a couch, who -started up in affright at his appearance. He hastened to reassure -her, and to explain the purpose of his coming, and learned after a -conversation with which I will not trouble your Majesty, though it -was sufficiently diverting, that the lady had found the velvet knot in -another part of the town, and had herself dropped it again in front of -her own house.' - -'Pourquoi?' the king asked, interrupting me. - -'The swain, sire,' I answered, 'was too much taken up with his own -troubles to bear that in mind, even if he learned it. But this delicacy -did not save him from misconception, for as he descended from the lady's -apartment he met her husband on the stairs.' - -'Good!' the king exclaimed, rubbing his hands in glee. 'The husband!' -And under cover of the gibe and the courtly laugh which followed it M. -de Bruhl's start of surprise passed unnoticed save by me. - -'The husband,' I resumed, 'seeing a stranger descending his staircase, -was for stopping him and learning the reason of his presence; But -Dromio, whose mind was with Phyllida, refused to stop, and, evading his -questions, hurried to the part of the town where the lady had told him -she found the velvet knot. Here, sire, at the corner of a lane running -between garden-walls, he found a great house, barred and gloomy, and -well adapted to the abductor's purpose. Moreover, scanning it on every -side, he presently discovered, tied about the bars of an upper window, -a knot of white linen, the very counterpart of that velvet one which he -bore in his breast. Thus he knew that the nymph was imprisoned in that -room!' - -'I will make it twenty-five, as I am a good Churchman!' his Majesty -exclaimed, dropping the little dog he was nursing into the duchess's -lap, and taking out his comfit-box. 'Rambouillet,' he added languidly, -'your friend is a treasure!' - -I bowed my acknowledgments, and took occasion as I did so to step a -pace aside, so as to command a view of Madame de Bruhl, as well as her -husband. Hitherto madame, willing to be accounted a part in so pretty -a romance, and ready enough also, unless I was mistaken, to cause her -husband a little mild jealousy, had listened to the story with a certain -sly demureness. But this I foresaw would not last long; and I felt -something like compunction as the moment for striking the blow -approached. But I had now no choice. 'The best is yet to come, sire,' I -went on, 'as I think you will acknowledge in a moment. Dromio, though -he had discovered his mistress, was still in the depths of despair. He -wandered round and round the house, seeking ingress and finding none, -until at length, sunset approaching, and darkness redoubling his fears -for the nymph, fortune took pity on him. As he stood in front of the -house he saw the abductor come out, lighted by two servants. Judge of -his surprise, sire,' I continued, looking round and speaking slowly, to -give full effect to my words, 'when he recognised in him no other than -the husband of the lady who, by picking up and again dropping the velvet -knot, had contributed so much to the success of his search!' - -'Ha! these husbands!' cried the king. And slapping his knee in an -ecstasy at his own acuteness, he laughed in his seat till he rolled -again. 'These husbands! Did I not say so?' - -The whole Court gave way to like applause, and clapped their hands as -well, so that few save those who stood nearest took notice of Madame de -Bruhl's faint cry, and still fewer understood why she rose up suddenly -from her stool and stood gazing at her husband with burning cheeks and -clenched hands. She took no heed of me, much less of the laughing crowd -round her, but looked only at him with her soul in her eyes. He, after -uttering one hoarse curse, seemed to have no thought for any but me. To -have the knowledge that his own wife had baulked him brought home to him -in this mocking fashion, to find how little a thing had tripped him that -day, to learn how blindly he had played into the hands of fate, above -all to be exposed at once to his wife's resentment and the ridicule of -the Court--for he could not be sure that I should not the next moment -disclose his name--all so wrought on him that for a moment I thought he -would strike me in the presence. - -His rage, indeed, did what I had not meant to do. For the king, catching -sight of his face, and remembering that Madame de Bruhl had elicited the -story, screamed suddenly, 'Haro!' and pointed ruthlessly at him with his -finger. After that I had no need to speak, the story leaping from eye to -eye, and every eye settling on Bruhl, who sought in vain to compose his -features. Madame, who surpassed him, as women commonly do surpass men, -in self-control, was the first to recover herself, and sitting down as -quickly as she had risen, confronted alike her husband and her rivals -with a pale smile. - -For a moment curiosity and excitement kept all breathless, the eye -alone busy. Then the king laughed mischievously. 'Come, M. de Bruhl,' he -cried, 'perhaps you will finish the tale for us?' And he threw himself -back in his chair, a sneer on his lips. - -'Or why not Madame de Bruhl?' said the duchess, with her head on one -side and her eyes glittering over her fan. 'Madame would, I am sure, -tell it so well.' - -But madame only shook her head, smiling always that forced smile. For -Bruhl himself, glaring from face to face like a bull about to charge, -I have never seen a man more out of countenance, or more completely -brought to bay. His discomposure, exposed as he was to the ridicule -of all present, was such that the presence in which he stood scarcely -hindered him from some violent attack; and his eyes, which had wandered -from me at the king's word, presently returning to me again, he so far -forgot himself as to raise his hand furiously, uttering at the same time -a savage oath. - -The king cried out angrily, 'Have a care, sir!' But Bruhl only heeded -this so far as to thrust aside those who stood round him and push his -way hurriedly through the circle. - -'Arnidieu!' cried the king, when he was gone. 'This is fine conduct! I -have half a mind to send after him and have him put where his hot blood -would cool a little. Or--' - -He stopped abruptly, his eyes resting on me. The relative positions of -Bruhl and myself as the agents of Rosny and Turenne occurred to him for -the first time, I think, and suggested the idea, perhaps, that I had -laid a trap for him, and that he had fallen into it. At any rate his -face grew darker and darker, and at last, 'A nice kettle of fish this is -you have prepared for us, sir!' he muttered, gazing at me gloomily. - -The sudden change in his humour took even courtiers by surprise. Faces -a moment before broad with smiles grew long again. The less important -personages looked uncomfortably at one another, and with one accord -frowned on me. 'If your Majesty would please to hear the end of the -story at another time?' I suggested humbly, beginning to wish with all -my heart that I had never said a word. - -'Chut!' he answered, rising, his face still betraying his perturbation, -'Well, be it so. For the present you may go, sir. Duchess, give me -Zizi, and come to my closet. I want you to see my puppies. Retz, my good -friend, do you come too. I have something to say to you. Gentlemen, you -need not wait. It is likely I shall be late.' - -And, with the utmost abruptness, he broke up the circle. - - - -CHAPTER XVII. THE JACOBIN MONK. - -Had I needed any reminder of the uncertainty of Court favour, or an -instance whence I might learn the lesson of modesty, and so stand in -less danger of presuming on my new and precarious prosperity, I had it -in this episode, and in the demeanour of the company round me. On the -circle breaking up in confusion, I found myself the centre of general -regard, but regard of so dubious a character, the persons who would have -been the first to compliment me had the king retired earlier, standing -farthest aloof now, that I felt myself rather insulted than honoured by -it. One or two, indeed, of the more cautious spirits did approach me; -but it was with the air of men providing against a danger particularly -remote, their half-hearted speeches serving only to fix them in my -memory as belonging to a class, especially abhorrent to me--the class, I -mean, of those who would run at once with the hare and the hounds. - -I was rejoiced to find that on one person, and that the one whose -disposition towards me was, next to the king's, of first importance, -this episode had produced a different impression, Feeling, as I made for -the door, a touch on my arm, I turned to find M. de Rambouillet at my -elbow, regarding me with a glance of mingled esteem and amusement; in -fine, with a very different look from that which had been my welcome -earlier in the evening. I was driven to suppose that he was too great a -man, or too sure of his favour with the king, to be swayed by the -petty motives which actuated the Court generally, for he laid his hand -familiarly on my shoulder, and walked on beside me. - -'Well my friend,' he said,' you have distinguished yourself finely! I -do not know that I ever remember a pretty woman making more stir in one -evening. But if you are wise you will not go home alone to-night.' - -'I have my sword, M. le Marquis,' I answered, somewhat proudly. 'Which -will avail you little against a knife in the back!' he retorted drily. -'What attendance have you?' - -'My equerry, Simon Fleix, is on the stairs.' - -'Good, so far, but not enough,' he replied, as we reached the head of -the staircase. 'You had better come home with me now, and two or three -of my fellows shall go on to your lodging with you. Do you know, my -friend,' he continued, looking at me keenly, 'you are either a very -clever or a very foolish man?' - -I made answer modestly. 'Neither the one, I fear, nor the other, I hope -sir,' I said. - -'Well, you have done a very pertinent thing,' he replied, 'for good or -evil. You have let the enemy know what he has to expect, and he is not -one, I warn you, to be despised. But whether you have been very wise or -very foolish in declaring open war remains to be seen.' - -'A week will show,' I answered. - -He turned and looked at me. 'You take it coolly,' he said. - -'I have been knocking about the world for forty years, marquis,' I -rejoined. - -He muttered something about Rosny having a good eye, and then stopped to -adjust his cloak. We were by this time in the street. Making me go hand -in hand with him, he requested the other gentlemen to draw their swords; -and the servants being likewise armed and numbering half a score or -more, with pikes and torches, we made up a very formidable party, -and caused, I think, more alarm as we passed through the streets to -Rambouillet's lodging than we had any reason to feel. Not that we had it -all to ourselves, for the attendance at Court that evening being large, -and the circle breaking up as I have described more abruptly than usual, -the vicinity of the castle was in a ferment, and the streets leading -from it were alive with the lights and laughter of parties similar to -our own. - -At the door of the marquis's lodging I prepared to take leave of him -with many expressions of gratitude, but he would have me enter and -sit down with him to a light refection, which it was his habit to take -before retiring. Two of his gentlemen sat down with us, and a valet, who -was in his confidence, waiting on us, we made very merry over the scene -in the presence. I learned that M. de Bruhl was far from popular at -Court; but being known to possess some kind of hold over the king, and -enjoying besides a great reputation for recklessness and skill with the -sword, he had played a high part for a length of time, and attached to -himself, especially since the death of Guise, a considerable number of -followers. - -'The truth is,' one of the marquis's gentlemen, who was a little heated -with wine, observed, 'there is nothing at this moment which a bold and -unscrupulous man may not win in France!' - -'Nor a bold and Christian gentleman for France!' replied M. de -Rambouillet with, some asperity. 'By the way,' he continued, turning -abruptly to the servant, 'where is M. Francois?' - -The valet answered that he had not returned with us from the castle. The -Marquis expressed himself annoyed at this, and I gathered, firstly, that -the missing man was his near kinsman, and, secondly, that he was also -the young spark who had been so forward to quarrel with me earlier in -the evening. Determining to refer the matter, should it become pressing, -to Rambouillet for adjustment, I took leave of him, and attended by -two of his servants, whom he kindly transferred to my service for the -present, I started towards my lodging a little before midnight. - -The moon had risen while we were at supper, and its light, which -whitened the gables on one side of the street, diffused a glimmer below -sufficient to enable us to avoid the kennel. Seeing this, I bade the -men put out our torch. Frost had set in, and a keen wind was blowing, -so that we were glad to hurry on at a good pace; and the streets being -quite deserted at this late hour, or haunted only by those who had come -to dread the town marshal, we met no one and saw no lights. I fell to -thinking, for my part, of the evening I had spent searching Blois for -Mademoiselle, and of the difference between then and now. Nor did I fail -while on this track to retrace it still farther to the evening of our -arrival at my mother's; whence, as a source, such kindly and gentle -thoughts welled up in my mind as were natural, and the unfailing -affection of that gracious woman required. These, taking the place for -the moment of the anxious calculations and stern purposes which had of -late engrossed me, were only ousted by something which, happening under -my eyes, brought me violently and abruptly to myself. - -This was the sudden appearance of three men, who issued one by one from -an alley a score of yards in front of us, and after pausing a second -to look back the way they had come, flitted on in single file along -the street, disappearing, as far as the darkness permitted me to judge, -round a second corner. I by no means liked their appearance, and, as a -scream and the clash of arms rang out next moment from the direction in -which they had gone, I cried lustily to Simon Fleix to follow, and ran -on, believing from the rascals' movements that they were after no good, -but that rather some honest man was like to be sore beset. - -On reaching the lane down which they had plunged, however, I paused a -moment, considering not so much its black-ness, which was intense, -the eaves nearly meeting overhead, as the small chance I had of -distinguishing between attackers and attacked. But Simon and the men -overtaking me, and the sounds of a sharp tussle still continuing, -I decided to venture, and plunged into the alley, my left arm well -advanced, with the skirt of my cloak thrown over it, and my sword drawn -back. I shouted as I ran, thinking that the knaves might desist on -hearing me; and this was what happened, for as I arrived on the scene of -action--the farther end of the alley--two men took to their heels, while -of two who remained, one lay at length in the kennel, and another rose -slowly from his knees. - -'You are just in time, sir,' the latter said, breathing hard, but -speaking with a preciseness which sounded familiar. 'I am obliged to -you, sir, whoever you are. The villains had got me down, and in a few -minutes more would have made my mother childless. By the way, you have -no light, have you?' he continued, lisping like a woman. - -One of M. de Rambouillet's men, who had by this time come up, cried out -that it was Monsieur Francois. - -'Yes, blockhead!' the young gentleman answered with the utmost coolness. -'But I asked for a light, not for my name. - -'I trust you are not hurt, sir?' I said, putting up my sword. - -'Scratched only,' he answered, betraying no surprise on learning who it -was had come up so opportunely; as he no doubt did learn from my voice, -for he continued with a bow, a slight price to pay for the knowledge -that M. de Marsac is as forward on the field as on the stairs.' - -I bowed my acknowledgments. - -'This fellow,' I said, 'is he much hurt?' - -'Tut, tut! I thought I had saved the marshal all trouble, M. Francois -replied. 'Is he not dead, Gil?' - -The poor wretch made answer for himself, crying out piteously, and in -a choking voice, for a priest to shrive him. At that moment Simon -Fleix returned with our torch, which he had lighted at the nearest -cross-streets, where there was a brazier, and we saw by this light that -the man was coughing up blood, and might live perhaps half an hour. - -'Mordieu! That comes of thrusting too high!' M. Francois muttered, -regretfully. An inch lower, and there would have been none of this -trouble! I suppose somebody must fetch one. Gil,' he continued, 'run, -man, to the sacristy in the Rue St. Denys, and get a Father. Or--stay! -Help to lift him under the lee of the wall there. The wind cuts like a -knife here.' - -The street being on the slope of the hill, the lower part of the house -nearest us stood a few feet from the ground, on wooden piles, and the -space underneath it, being enclosed at the back and sides, was used as a -cart-house. The servants moved the dying man into this rude shelter, and -I accompanied them, being unwilling to leave the young gentleman alone. -Not wishing, however, to seem to interfere, I walked to the farther end, -and sat down on the shaft of a cart, whence I idly admired the strange -aspect of the group I had left, as the glare of the torch brought now -one and now another into prominence, and sometimes shone on M. Francois' -jewelled fingers toying with his tiny moustache, and sometimes on the -writhing features of the man at his feet. - -On a sudden, and before Gil had started on his errand, I saw there was -a priest among them. I had not seen him enter, nor had I any idea whence -he came. My first impression was only that here was a priest, and that -he was looking at me--not at the man craving his assistance on the -floor, or at those who stood round him, but at me, who sat away in the -shadow beyond the ring of light! - -This was surprising; but a second glance explained it, for then I saw -that he was the Jacobin monk who had haunted my mother's dying hours. -And, amazed as much at this strange RENCONTRE as at the man's boldness, -I sprang up and strode forwards, forgetting, in an impulse of righteous -anger, the office he came to do. And this the more as his face, still -turned to me, seemed instinct to my eyes with triumphant malice. As I -moved towards him, however, with a fierce exclamation on my lips, he -suddenly dropped his eyes and knelt. Immediately M. Francois cried -'Hush!' and the men turned to me with scandalised faces. I fell back. -Yet even then, whispering on his knees by the dying man, the knave was -thinking, I felt sure, of me, glorying at once in his immunity and the -power it gave him to tantalise me without fear. - -I determined, whatever the result, to intercept him when all was over; -and on the man dying a few minutes later, I walked resolutely to the -open side of the shed, thinking it likely he might try to slip away as -mysteriously as he had come. He stood a moment speaking to M. Francois, -however, and then, accompanied by him, advanced boldly to meet me, a -lean smile on his face. - -'Father Antoine,' M. d'Agen said politely,' tells me that he knows -you, M. de Marsac, and desires to speak to you, MAL-A-PROPOS as is the -occasion.' - -'And I to him,' I answered, trembling with rage, and only restraining -by an effort the impulse which would have had me dash my hand in the -priest's pale, smirking face. 'I have waited long for this moment,' I -continued, eyeing him steadily, as M. Francois withdrew out of hearing, -'and had you tried to avoid me, I would have dragged you back, though -all your tribe were here to protect you.' - -His presence so maddened me that I scarcely knew what I said. I felt my -breath come quickly, I felt the blood surge to my head, and it was -with difficulty I restrained myself when he answered with well-affected -sanctity, 'Like mother, like son, I fear, sir. Huguenots both.' - -I choked with rage. What!' I said, 'you dare to threaten me as you -threatened my mother? Fool! know that only to-day for the purpose of -discovering and punishing you I took the rooms in which my mother died.' - -'I know it,' he answered quietly. And then in a second, as by magic, he -altered his demeanour completely, raising his head and looking me in the -face. 'That, and so much besides, I know,' he continued, giving me, to -my astonishment, frown for frown, 'that if you will listen to me for a -moment, M. de Marsac, and listen quietly, I will convince you that the -folly is not on my side.' - -Amazed at his new manner, in which there was none of the madness that -had marked him at our first meeting, but a strange air of authority, -unlike anything I had associated with him before, I signed to him to -proceed. - -'You think that I am in your power?' he said, smiling. - -'I think,' I retorted swiftly, 'that, escaping me now, you will have at -your heels henceforth a worse enemy than even your own sins.' - -'Just so,' he answered, nodding. 'Well, I am going to show you that -the reverse is the case; and that you are as completely in my hands, to -spare or to break, as this straw. In the first place, you are here in -Blois, a Huguenot!' - -'Chut!' I exclaimed contemptuously, affecting a confidence I was far -from feeling. 'A little while back that might have availed you. But we -are in Blois, not Paris. It is not far to the Loire, and you have to -deal with a man now, not with a woman. It is you who have cause to -tremble, not I.' - -'You think to be protected,' he answered with a sour smile, 'even on -this side of the Loire, I see. But one word to the Pope's Legate, or to -the Duke of Nevers, and you would see the inside of a dungeon, if not -worse. For the king--' - -'King or no king!' I answered, interrupting him with more assurance than -I felt, seeing that I remembered only too well Henry's remark that Rosny -must not look to him for protection, 'I fear you not a whit! And that -reminds me. I have heard you talk treason--rank, black treason, priest, -as ever sent man to rope, and I will give you up. By heaven I will!' I -cried, my rage increasing, as I discerned, more and more clearly, the -dangerous hold he had over me. 'You have threatened me! One word, and I -will send you to the gallows!' - -'Sh!' he answered, indicating M. Francois by, a gesture of the hand. -'For your own sake, not mine. This is fine talking, but you have not -yet heard all I know. Would you like to hear how you have spent the last -month? Two days after Christmas, M. de Marsac, you left Chize with a -young lady--I can give you her name, if you please. Four days afterwards -you reached Blois, and took her to your mother's lodging. Next morning -she left you for M. de Bruhl. Two days later you tracked her to a house -in the Ruelle d'Arcy, and freed her, but lost her in the moment of -victory. Then you stayed in Blois until your mother's death, going a day -or two later to M. de Rosny's house by Mantes, where mademoiselle still -is. Yesterday you arrived in Blois with M. de Rosny; you went to his -lodging; you--' - -'Proceed, I muttered, leaning forward. Under cover of my cloak I drew my -dagger half-way from its sheath. 'Proceed, sir, I pray,' I repeated with -dry lips. - -'You slept there,' he continued, holding his ground, but shuddering -slightly, either from cold or because he perceived my movement and read -my design in my eyes. - -'This morning you remained here in attendance on M. de Rambouillet.' - -For the moment I breathed freely again, perceiving that though he knew -much, the one thing on which M. de Rosny's design turned had escaped -him. The secret interview with the king, which compromised alike Henry -himself and M. de Rambouillet, had apparently passed unnoticed and -unsuspected. With a sigh of intense relief I slid back the dagger, which -I had fully made up my mind to use had he known all, and drew my cloak -round me with a shrug of feigned indifference. I sweated to think what -he did know, but our interview with the king having escaped him, I -breathed again. - -'Well, sir,' I said curtly, 'I have listened. And now, what is the -purpose of all this?' - -'My purpose?' he answered, his eyes glittering. 'To show you that you -are in my power. You are the agent of M. de Rosny. I, the agent, however -humble, of the Holy Catholic League. Of your movements I know all. What -do you know of mine?' - -'Knowledge,' I made grim answer, 'is not everything, sir priest.' - -'It is more than it was,' he said, smiling his thin-lipped smile. 'It is -going to be more than it is. And I know much--about you, M. de Marsac.' - -'You know too much!' I retorted, feeling his covert threats close round -me like the folds of some great serpent. 'But you are imprudent, I -think. Will you tell me what is to prevent me striking you through where -you stand, and ridding myself at a blow of so much knowledge?' - -'The presence of three men, M. de Marsac,' he answered lightly, waving -his hand towards M. Francois and the others, 'every one of whom would -give you up to justice. You forget that you are north of the Loire, -and that priests are not to be massacred here with impunity, as in your -lawless south-country. However, enough. The night is cold, and M. d'Agen -grows suspicious as well as impatient. We have, perhaps, spoken too -long already. Permit me--he bowed and drew back a step--'to resume this -discussion to-morrow.' - -Despite his politeness and the hollow civility with which he thus -sought; to close the interview, the light of triumph which shone in -his eyes, as the glare of the torch fell athwart them, no less than the -assured tone of his voice, told me clearly that he knew his power. -He seemed, indeed, transformed: no longer a slinking, peaceful clerk, -preying on a woman's fears, but a bold and crafty schemer, skilled and -unscrupulous, possessed of hidden knowledge and hidden resources; the -personification of evil intellect. For a moment, knowing all I knew, and -particularly the responsibilities which lay before me, and the interests -committed to my hands, I quailed, confessing myself unequal to him. -I forgot the righteous vengeance I owed him; I cried out helplessly -against the ill-fortune which had brought him across my path. I saw -myself enmeshed and fettered beyond hope of escape, and by an effort -only controlled the despair I felt. - -'To-morrow?' I muttered hoarsely. 'At what time?' - -He shook his head with a cunning smile. 'A thousand thanks, but I will -settle that myself!' he answered. 'Au revoir!' and uttering a word of -leave-taking to M. Francois d'Agen, he blessed the two servants, and -went out into the night. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. THE OFFER OF THE LEAGUE. - -When the last sound of his footsteps died away, I awoke as from an evil -dream, and becoming conscious of the presence of M. Francois and the -servants, recollected mechanically that I owed the former an apology for -my discourtesy in keeping him standing in the cold. I began to offer it; -but my distress and confusion of mind were such that in the middle of a -set phrase I broke off, and stood looking fixedly at him, my trouble so -plain that he asked me civilly if anything ailed me. - -'No,' I answered, turning from him impatiently; 'nothing, nothing, sir. -Or tell me,' I continued, with an abrupt change of mind, 'who is that; -who has just left us?' - -'Father Antoine, do you mean?' - -'Ay, Father Antoine, Father Judas, call him what you like,' I rejoined -bitterly. - -'Then if you leave the choice to me,' M. Francois answered with grave -politeness, 'I would rather call him something more pleasant, M. de -Marsac--James or John, let us say. For there is little said here which -does not come back to him. If walls have ears, the walls of Blois are -in his pay. But I thought you knew him,' he continued. 'He is secretary, -confidant, chaplain, what you will, to Cardinal Retz, and one of those -whom--in your ear--greater men court and more powerful men lean on. If I -had to choose between them, I would rather cross M. de Crillon.' - -'I am obliged to you,' I muttered, checked as much by his manner as his -words. - -'Not at all,' he answered more lightly. 'Any information I have is at -your disposal.' - -However, I saw the imprudence of venturing farther, and hastened to -take leave of him, persuading him to allow one of M. de Rambouillet's -servants to accompany him home. He said that he should call on me in the -morning; and forcing myself to answer him in a suitable manner, I saw -him depart one way, and myself, accompanied by Simon Fleix, went off -another. My feet were frozen with long standing--I think the corpse we -left was scarce colder--but my head was hot with feverish doubts and -fears. The moon had sunk and the streets were dark. Our torch had burned -out, and we had no light. But where my followers saw only blackness and -vacancy, I saw an evil smile and a lean visage fraught with menace and -exultation. - -For the more closely I directed my mind to the position in which I -stood, the graver it seemed. Pitted against Bruhl alone, amid strange -surroundings and in an atmosphere of Court intrigue, I had thought my -task sufficiently difficult and the disadvantages under which I laboured -sufficiently serious before this interview. Conscious of a certain -rustiness and a distaste for finesse, with resources so inferior to -Bruhl's that even M. de Rosny's liberality had not done much to make up -the difference, I had accepted the post offered me rather readily than -sanguinely; with joy, seeing that it held out the hope of high reward, -but with no certain expectation of success. Still, matched with a man of -violent and headstrong character, I had seen no reason to despair; nor -any why I might not arrange the secret meeting between the king and -mademoiselle with safety, and conduct to its end an intrigue simple and -unsuspected, and requiring for its execution rather courage and caution -than address or experience. - -Now, however, I found that Bruhl was not my only or my most dangerous -antagonist. Another was in the field--or, to speak more correctly, was -waiting outside the arena, ready to snatch the prize when we should have -disabled one another, From a dream of Bruhl and myself as engaged in -a competition for the king's favour, wherein neither could expose the -other nor appeal even in the last resort to the joint-enemies of his -Majesty and ourselves, I awoke to a very different state of things; I -awoke to find those enemies the masters of the situation, possessed of -the clue to our plans, and permitting them only as long as they seemed -to threaten no serious peril to themselves. - -No discovery could be more mortifying or more fraught with terror. The -perspiration stood on my brow as I recalled the warning which M. de -Rosny had uttered against Cardinal Retz, or noted down the various -points of knowledge which were in Father Antoine's possession. He knew -every event of the last month, with one exception, and could tell, I -verily believed, how many crowns I had in my pouch. Conceding this, and -the secret sources of information he must possess, what hope had I of -keeping my future movements from him? Mademoiselle's arrival would be -known to him before she had well passed the gates; nor was it likely, -or even possible, that I should again succeed in reaching the king's -presence untraced and unsuspected. En fin, I saw myself, equally with -Bruhl, a puppet in this man's hands, my goings out and my comings in -watched and reported to him, his mercy the only bar between myself -and destruction. At any moment I might be arrested as a Huguenot, the -enterprise in which I was engaged ruined, and Mademoiselle de la Vire -exposed to the violence of Bruhl or the equally dangerous intrigues of -the League. - -Under these circumstances I fancied sleep impossible; but habit and -weariness are strong persuaders, and when I reached my lodging I slept -long and soundly, as became a man who had looked danger in the face more -than once. The morning light too brought an accession both of courage -and hope. I reflected on the misery of my condition at St. Jean -d'Angely, without friends or resources, and driven to herd with such -a man as Fresnoy. And telling myself that the gold crowns which M. de -Rosny had lavished upon me were not for nothing, nor the more precious -friendship with which he had honoured me a gift that called for no -return, I rose with new spirit and a countenance which threw Simon -Fleix who had seen me lie down the picture of despair--into the utmost -astonishment. - -'You have had good dreams,' he said, eyeing me jealously and with a -disturbed air. - -'I had a very evil one last night,' I answered lightly, wondering a -little why he looked at me so, and why he seemed to resent my return -to hopefulness and courage. I might have followed this train of thought -further with advantage, since I possessed a clue to his state of mind; -but at that moment a summons at the door called him away to it, and -he presently ushered in M. d'Agen, who, saluting me with punctilious -politeness, had not said fifty words before he introduced the subject -of his toe--no longer, however, in a hostile spirit, but as the -happy medium which had led him to recognise the worth and sterling -qualities--so he was pleased to say--of his preserver. - -I was delighted to find him in this frame of mind, and told him frankly -that the friendship with which his kinsman, M. de Rambouillet, honoured -me would prevent me giving him satisfaction save in the last resort. -He replied that the service I had done him was such as to render this -immaterial, unless I had myself cause of offence; which I was forward to -deny. - -We were paying one another compliments after this fashion, while I -regarded him with the interest which the middle-aged bestow on the young -and gallant in whom they see their own youth and hopes mirrored, when -the door was again opened, and after a moment's pause admitted, equally, -I think, to the disgust of M. Francois, and myself, the form of Father -Antoine. - -Seldom have two men more diverse stood, I believe, in a room together; -seldom has any greater contrast been presented to a man's eyes than that -opened to mine on this occasion. On the one side the gay young spark, -with his short cloak, his fine suit; of black-and-silver, his trim -limbs and jewelled hilt and chased comfit-box; on the other, the tall, -stooping monk, lean-jawed and bright-eyed, whose gown hung about him in -coarse, ungainly folds. And M. Francois' sentiment on first seeing the -other was certainly dislike. Is spite of this, however, he bestowed a -greeting on the new-comer which evidenced a secret awe, and in other -ways showed so plain a desire to please, that I felt my fears of the -priest return in force. I reflected that the talents which in such a -garb could win the respect of M. Francois d'Agen--a brilliant star among -the younger courtiers, and one of a class much given to thinking scorn -of their fathers' roughness--must be both great and formidable; and, -so considering, I received the monk with a distant courtesy which I had -once little thought to extend to him. I put aside for the moment the -private grudge I bore him with so much justice, and remembered only the -burden which lay on me in my contest with him. - -I conjectured without difficulty that he chose to come at this time, -when M. Francois was with me, out of a cunning regard to his own safety; -and I was not surprised when M. Francois, beginning to make his adieux, -Father Antoine begged him to wait below, adding that he had something -of importance to communicate. He advanced his request in terms of -politeness bordering on humility; but I could clearly see that, in -assenting to it, M. d'Agen bowed to a will stronger than his own, and -would, had he dared to follow his own bent, have given a very different -answer. As it was he retired--nominally to give an order to his -lackey--with a species of impatient self-restraint which it was not -difficult to construe. - -Left alone with me, and assured that we had no listeners, the monk was -not slow in coming to the point. - -'You have thought over what I told you last night?' he said brusquely, -dropping in a moment the suave manner which he had maintained in M. -Francois's presence. - -I replied coldly that I had. - -'And you understand the position?' he continued quickly, looking at me -from under his brows as he stood before me, with one clenched fist on -the table. 'Or shall I tell you more? Shall I tell you how poor and -despised you were some weeks ago, M. de Marsac--you who now go in -velvet, and have three men at your back? Or whose gold it is has brought -you here, and made you, this? Chut! Do not let us trifle. You are here -as the secret agent of the King of Navarre. It is my business to learn -your plans and his intentions, and I propose to do so.' - -'Well?' I said. - -'I am prepared to buy them,' he answered; and his eyes sparkled as he -spoke, with a greed which set me yet more on my guard. - -'For whom?' I asked. Having made up my mind that I must use the same -weapons as my adversary, I reflected that to express indignation, such -as might become a young man new to the world, could, help me not a whit. -'For whom?' I repeated, seeing that he hesitated. - -'That is my business,' he replied slowly. - -'You want to know too much and tell too little,' I retorted, yawning. - -'And you are playing with me,' he cried, looking at me suddenly, with so -piercing a gaze and so dark a countenance that I checked a shudder with -difficulty. 'So much the worse for you, so much the worse for you!' he -continued fiercely. 'I am here to buy the information you hold, but if -you will not sell, there is another way. At an hour's notice I can ruin -your plans, and send you to a dungeon! You are like a fish caught in a -net not yet drawn. It thrusts its nose this way and that, and touches -the mesh, but is slow to take the alarm until the net is drawn--and then -it is too late. So it is with you, and so it is,' he added, falling -into the ecstatic mood which marked him at times, and left me in doubt -whether he were all knave or in part enthusiast, 'with all those who set -themselves against St. Peter and his Church!' - -'I have heard you say much the same of the King of France,' I said -derisively. - -'You trust in him?' he retorted, his eyes gleaming. 'You have been -up there, and seen his crowded chamber, and counted his forty-five -gentlemen and his grey-coated Swiss? I tell you the splendour you saw -was a dream, and will vanish as a dream. The man's strength and his -glory shall go from him, and that soon. Have you no eyes to see that -he is beside the question? There are but two powers in France--the Holy -Union, which still prevails, and the accursed Huguenot; and between them -is the battle.' - -'Now you are telling me more,' I said. - -He grew sober in a moment, looking at me with a vicious anger hard to -describe. - -'Tut tut,' he said, showing his yellow teeth, 'the dead tell no tales. -And for Henry of Valois, he so loves a monk that you might better accuse -his mistress. But for you, I have only to cry "Ho! a Huguenot and a -spy!" and though he loved you more than he loved Quelus or Maugiron, he -dare not stretch out a finger to save you!' - -I knew that he spoke the truth, and with difficulty maintained the air -of indifference with which I had entered on the interview. - -'But what if I leave Blois?' I ventured, merely to see what he would -say. - -He laughed. 'You cannot,' he answered. 'The net is round you, M. de -Marsac, and there are those at every gate who know you and have their -instructions. I can destroy you, but I would fain have your information, -and for that I will pay you five hundred crowns and let you go.' - -'To fall into the hands of the King of Navarre?' - -'He will disown you, in any case,' he answered eagerly. 'He had that -in his mind, my friend, when he selected an agent so obscure. He will -disown you. Ah, mon Dieu! had I been an hour quicker I had caught -Rosny--Rosny himself!' - -'There is one thing lacking still,' I replied. 'How am I to be sure -that, when I have told you what I know, you will pay me the money or let -me go?' - -'I will swear to it!' he answered earnestly, deceived into thinking I -was about to surrender. 'I will give you my oath, M. de Marsac!' - -'I would as soon have your shoe-lace!' I exclaimed, the indignation I -could not entirely repress finding vent in that phrase. 'A Churchman's -vow is worth a candle--or a candle and a half, is it?' I continued -ironically. 'I must have some security a great deal more substantial -than that, father.' - -'What?' he asked, looking at me gloomily. - -Seeing an opening, I cudgelled my brains to think of any condition -which, being fulfilled, might turn the table on him and place him in my -power. But his position was so strong, or my wits so weak, that nothing -occurred to me at the time, and I sat looking at, him, my mind gradually -passing from the possibility of escape to the actual danger in which -I stood, and which encompassed also Simon Fleix, and, in a degree, -doubtless, M. de Rambouillet. In four or five days, too, Mademoiselle de -la Vire would arrive. I wondered if I could send any warning to her; -and then, again, I doubted the wisdom of interfering with M. de Rosny's -plans, the more as Maignan, who had gone to fetch mademoiselle, was of a -kind to disregard any orders save his master's. - -'Well!' said the monk, impatiently recalling me to myself, 'what -security do you want?' - -'I am not quite sure at this moment,' I made answer slowly. 'I am in a -difficult position. I must have some time to consider.' - -'And to rid yourself of me, if it be possible,' he said with irony. 'I -quite understand. But I warn you that you are watched; and that wherever -you go and whatever you do, eyes which are mine are upon you.' - -'I, too, understand,' I said coolly. - -He stood awhile uncertain, regarding me with mingled doubt and -malevolence, tortured on the one hand by fear of losing the prize if -he granted delay, on the other of failing as utterly if he exerted his -power and did not succeed in subduing my resolution. I watched him, too, -and gauging his eagerness and the value of the stake for which he was -striving by the strength of his emotions, drew small comfort from the -sight. More than once it had occurred to me, and now it occurred to me -again, to extricate myself by a blow. But a natural reluctance to strike -an unarmed man, however vile and knavish, and the belief that he had -not trusted himself in my power without taking the fullest precautions, -withheld me. When he grudgingly, and with many dark threats, proposed to -wait three days--and not an hour more--for my answer, I accepted; for I -saw no other alternative open. And on these terms, but not without -some short discussion, we parted, and I heard his stealthy footstep go -sneaking down the stairs. - - - -CHAPTER XIX. MEN CALL IT CHANCE. - -If I were telling more than the truth, or had it in my mind to embellish -my adventures, I could, doubtless, by the exercise of a little ingenuity -make it appear that I owed my escape from Father Antoine's meshes to -my own craft; and tell, en fin, as pretty a story of plots and -counterplots as M. de Brantome has ever woven. Having no desire, -however, to magnify myself and, at this time of day, scarcely any -reason, I am fain to confess that the reverse was the case; and that -while no man ever did less to free himself than I did, my adversary -retained his grasp to the end, and had surely, but for a strange -interposition, effected my ruin. How relief came, and from what quarter, -I might defy the most ingenious person, after reading my memoirs to this -point, to say; and this not so much by reason of any subtle device, as -because the hand of Providence was for once directly manifest. - -The three days of grace which the priest had granted I passed in anxious -but futile search for some means of escape, every plan I conceived dying -stillborn, and not the least of my miseries lying in the fact that I -could discern no better course than still to sit and think, and seemed -doomed to perpetual inaction. M. de Rambouillet being a strict Catholic, -though in all other respects a patriotic man, I knew better than to have -recourse to him; and the priest's influence over M. d'Agen I had myself -witnessed. For similar reasons I rejected the idea of applying to the -king; and this exhausting the list of those on whom I had any claim, I -found myself thrown on my own resources, which seemed limited--my wits -failing me at this pinch--to my sword and Simon Fleix. - -Assured that I must break out of Blois if I would save not myself only, -but others more precious because entrusted to my charge, I thought it no -disgrace to appeal to Simon; describing in a lively fashion the danger -which threatened us, and inciting the lad by every argument which I -thought likely to have weight with him to devise some way of escape. - -Now is the time, my friend,' I said, 'to show your wits, and prove that -M. de Rosny, who said you had a cunning above the ordinary, was right. -If your brain can ever save your head, now is the time! For I tell you -plainly, if you cannot find some way to outmanoeuvre this villain before -to-morrow, I am spent. You can judge for yourself what chance you will -have of going free.' - -I paused at that, waiting for him to make some suggestion. To my chagrin -he remained silent, leaning his head on his hand, and studying the -table with his eyes in a sullen fashion; so that I began to regret -the condescension I had evinced in letting him be seated, and found it -necessary to remind him that he had taken service with me, and must do -my bidding. - -'Well,' he said morosely, and without looking up, 'I am ready to do it. -But I do not like priests, and this one least of all. I know him, and I -will not meddle with him.' - -'You will not meddle with him?' I cried, almost beside myself with -dismay. - -'No, I won't,' he replied, retaining his listless attitude. 'I know him, -and I am afraid of him. I am no match for him.' - -'Then M. de Rosny was wrong, was he?' I said, giving way to my anger. - -'If it please you,' he answered pertly. - -This was too much for me. My riding-switch lay handy, and I snatched -it up. Before he knew what I would be at, I fell upon him, and gave him -such a sound wholesome drubbing as speedily brought him to his senses. -When he cried for mercy--which he did not for a good space, being still -possessed by the peevish devil which had ridden him ever since his -departure from Rosny--I put it to him again whether M. de Rosny was not -right. When he at last admitted this, but not till then, I threw the -whip away and let him go, but did not cease to reproach him as he -deserved. - -'Did you think,' I said, 'that I was going to be ruined because you -would not use your lazy brains? That I was going to sit still, and let -you sulk, while mademoiselle walked blindfold into the toils? Not at -all, my friend!' - -'Mademoiselle!' he exclaimed, looking at me with a sudden change of -countenance, end ceasing to rub himself and scowl, as he had been doing. -'She is not here, and is in no danger.' - -'She will be here to-morrow, or the next day,' I said. - -You did not tell me that!' he replied, his eyes glittering. 'Does Father -Antoine know it?' - -'He will know it the moment she enters the town,' I answered. - -Noting the change which the introduction of mademoiselle's name into the -affair had wrought in him, I felt something like humiliation. But at the -moment I had no choice; it was my business to use such instruments as -came to my hand, and not, mademoiselle's safety being at stake, to pick -and choose too nicely. In a few minutes our positions were reversed. The -lad had grown as hot as I cold, as keenly excited as I critical. When -he presently came to a stand in front of me, I saw a strange likeness -between his face and the priest's; nor was I astonished when he -presently made just such a proposal as I should have expected from -Father Antoine himself. - -'There is only one thing for it,' he muttered, trembling all over. 'He -must be got rid of!' - -'Fine talking!' I said, contemptuously. 'If he were a soldier he might -be brought to it. But he is a priest, my friend, and does not fight.' - -'Fight? Who wants him to fight?' the lad answered, his face dark, his -hands moving restlessly. 'It is the easier done. A blow in the back, and -he will trouble us no more.' - -'Who is to strike it?' I asked drily. - -Simon trembled and hesitated; but presently, heaving a deep sigh, he -said, 'I will.' - -'It might not be difficult,' I muttered, thinking it over. - -'It would be easy,' he answered under his breath. His eyes shone, his -lips were white, and his long dark hair hung wet over his forehead. - -I reflected, and the longer I did so the more feasible seemed the -suggestion. A single word, and I might sweep from my path the man whose -existence threatened mine; who would not meet me fairly, but, working -against me darkly and treacherously, deserved no better treatment at my -hands than that which a detected spy receives. He had wronged my mother; -he would fain destroy my friends! - -And, doubtless, I shall be blamed by some and ridiculed by more for -indulging in scruples at such a time. But I have all my life long been -prejudiced against that form of underhand violence which I have heard -old men contend came into fashion in our country in modern times, and -which certainly seems to be alien from the French character. Without -judging others too harshly, or saying that the poniard is never -excusable--for then might some wrongs done to women and the helpless -go without remedy--I have set my face against its use as unworthy of a -soldier. At the time, moreover, of which I am now writing the extent to -which our enemies had lately resorted to it tended to fix this feeling -with peculiar firmness in my mind; and, but for the very desperate -dilemma in which I stood at the moment--and not I alone--I do not think -that I should have entertained Simon's proposal for a minute. - -As it was, I presently answered him in a way which left him in no doubt -of my sentiments. 'Simon, my friend,' I said--and I remember I was a -little moved--'you have something still to learn, both as a soldier and -a Huguenot. Neither the one nor the other strikes at the back.' - -'But if he will not fight?' the lad retorted rebelliously. 'What then?' - -It was so clear that our adversary gained an unfair advantage in this -way that I could not answer the question. I let it pass, therefore, and -merely repeating my former injunction, bade Simon think out another way. - -He promised reluctantly to do so, and, after spending some moments in -thought, went out to learn whether the house was being watched. - -When he returned, his countenance wore so new an expression that I saw -at once that something had happened. He did not meet my eye, however, -and did not explain, but made as if he would go out again, with -something of confusion in his manner. Before finally disappearing, -however, he seemed to change his mind once more; for, marching up to me -where I stood eyeing him with the utmost astonishment, he stopped before -me, and suddenly drawing out his hand, thrust something into mine. - -'What is it, man?' I said mechanically. - -'Look!' he answered rudely, breaking silence for the first time. 'You -should know. Why ask me? What have I to do with it?' - -I looked then, and saw that he had given me a knot of velvet precisely -similar is shape, size, and material to that well-remembered one which -had aided me so opportunely in my search for mademoiselle. This differed -from that a little in colour, but in nothing else, the fashion of the -bow being the same, and one lappet hearing the initials 'C. d. l. V.,' -while the other had the words, 'A moi.' I gazed at it in wonder. 'But, -Simon,' I said, 'what does it mean? Where did you get it?' - -'Where should I get it?' he answered jealously. Then, seeming to -recollect himself, he changed his tone. 'A woman gave it to me in the -street,' he said. - -I asked him what woman. - -'How should I know?' he answered, his eyes gleaming with anger. 'It was -a woman in a mask.' - -'Was it Fanchette?' I said sternly. - -'It might have been. I do not know,' he responded. - -I concluded at first that mademoiselle and her escort had arrived in the -outskirts of the city, and that Maignan had justified his reputation -for discretion by sending in to learn from me whether the way was clear -before he entered. In this notion I was partly confirmed and partly -shaken by the accompanying message; which Simon, from whom every scrap -of information had to be dragged as blood from a stone, presently -delivered. - -'You are to meet the sender half an hour after sunset to-morrow -evening,' he said, 'on the Parvis at the north-east corner of the -cathedral.' - -'To-morrow evening?' - -'Yes, when else?' the lad answered ungraciously. 'I said to-morrow -evening.' - -I thought this strange. I could understand why Maignan should prefer to -keep his charge outside the walls until he heard from me, but not why -he should postpone a meeting so long. The message, too, seemed -unnecessarily meagre, and I began to think Simon was still withholding -something. - -'Was that all?' I asked him. - -'Yes, all,' he answered, 'except--' - -'Except what?' I said sternly. - -'Except that the woman showed me the gold token Mademoiselle de la -Vire used to carry,' he answered reluctantly, 'and said, if you wanted -further assurance that would satisfy you.' - -'Did you see the coin?' I cried eagerly. - -'To be sure,' he answered. - -'Then, mon dieu!' I retorted, 'either you are deceiving me, or the woman -you saw deceived you. For mademoiselle has not got the token! I have it -here, in my possession! Now, do you still say you saw it, man?' - -'I saw one like it,' he answered, trembling, his face damp. 'That I will -swear. And the woman told me what I have told you. And no more.' - -'Then it is clear,' I answered, 'that mademoiselle has nothing to do -with this, and is doubtless many a league away. This is one of M. de -Bruhl's tricks. Fresnoy gave him the token he stole from me. And I -told him the story of the velvet knot myself. This is a trap; and had -I fallen into it, and gone to the Parvis to-morrow evening, I had never -kept another assignation, my lad.' - -Simon looked thoughtful. Presently he said, with a crestfallen air, 'You -were to go alone. The woman said that.' - -Though I knew well why he had suppressed this item, I forbore to blame -him. 'What was the woman like?' I said. - -'She had very much of Franchette's figure,' he answered. He could not -go beyond that. Blinded by the idea that the woman was mademoiselle's -attendant, and no one else, he had taken little heed of her, and could -not even say for certain that she was not a man in woman's clothes. - -I thought the matter over and discussed it with him; and was heartily -minded to punish M. de Bruhl, if I could discover a way of turning his -treacherous plot against himself. But the lack of any precise knowledge -of his plans prevented me stirring in the matter; the more as I felt no -certainty that I should be master of my actions when the time came. - -Strange to say the discovery of this movement on the part of Bruhl, who -had sedulously kept himself in the background since the scene in the -king's presence, far from increasing my anxieties, had the effect of -administering a fillip to my spirits; which the cold and unyielding -pressure of the Jacobin had reduced to a low point. Here was something I -could understand, resist, and guard against. The feeling that I had -once more to do with a man of like aims and passions with myself quickly -restored me to the use of my faculties; as I have heard that a swordsman -opposed to the powers of evil regains his vigour on finding himself -engaged with a mortal foe. Though I knew that the hours of grace were -fast running to a close, and that on the morrow the priest would call -for an answer, I experienced that evening an unreasonable lightness and -cheerfulness. I retired to rest with confidence, and slept in comfort, -supported in part, perhaps, by the assurance that in that room where my -mother died her persecutor could have no power to harm me. - -Upon Simon Fleix, on the other hand, the discovery that Bruhl was -moving, and that consequently peril threatened us from a new quarter, -had a different effect. He fell into a state of extreme excitement, and -spent the evening and a great part of the night in walking restlessly -up and down the room, wrestling with the fears and anxieties which beset -us, and now talking fast to himself, now biting his nails in an agony -of impatience. In vain I adjured him not to meet troubles halfway; or, -pointing to the pallet which he occupied at the foot of my couch, bade -him, if he could not devise a way of escape, at least to let the matter -rest until morning. He had no power to obey, but, tortured by the vivid -anticipations which it was his nature to entertain, he continued to -ramble to and fro in a fever of the nerves, and had no sooner lain -down than be was up again. Remembering, however, how well he had borne -himself on the night of mademoiselle's escape from Blois, I refrained -from calling him a coward; and contented myself instead with the -reflection that nothing sits worse on a fighting-man than too much -knowledge--except, perhaps, a lively imagination. - -I thought it possible that mademoiselle might arrive next day before -Father Antoine called to receive his answer. In this event I hoped to -have the support of Maignan's experience. But the party did not arrive. -I had to rely on myself and my own resources, and, this being so, -determined to refuse the priest's offer, but in all other things to be -guided by circumstances. - -About noon he came, attended, as was his practice, by two friends, -whom he left outside. He looked paler and more shadowy than before, I -thought, his hands thinner, and his cheeks more transparent. I could -draw no good augury, however, from these, signs of frailty, for the -brightness of his eyes and the unusual elation of his manner told -plainly of a spirit assured of the mastery. He entered the room with an -air of confidence, and addressed me in a tone of patronage which left me -in no doubt of his intentions; the frankness with which he now laid bare -his plans going far to prove that already he considered me no better -than his tool. - -I did not at once undeceive him, but allowed him to proceed, and even -to bring out the five hundred crowns which he had promised me, and the -sight of which he doubtless supposed would clench the matter. - -Seeing this he became still less reticent, and spoke so largely that I -presently felt myself impelled to ask him if he would answer a question. - -'That is as may be, M. de Marsac,' he answered lightly. 'You may ask -it.' - -'You hint at great schemes which you have in hand, father,' I said. -'You speak of France and Spain and Navarre, and kings and Leagues and -cardinals! You talk of secret strings, and would have me believe that if -I comply with your wishes I shall find you as powerful a patron as M. de -Rosny. But--one moment, if you please,' I continued hastily, seeing that -he was about to interrupt me with such eager assurances as I had already -heard; 'tell me this. With so many irons in the fire, why did you -interfere with one old gentlewoman--for the sake of a few crowns?' - -'I will tell you even that,' he answered, his face flushing at my tone. -'Have you ever heard of an elephant? Yes. Well, it has a trunk, you -know, with which it can either drag an oak from the earth or lift -a groat from the ground. It is so with me. But again you ask,' he -continued with an airy grimace, 'why I wanted a few crowns. Enough that -I did. There are going to be two things in the world, and two only, M. -de Marsac: brains and money. The former I have, and had: the latter I -needed--and took.' - -'Money and brains?' I said, looking at him thoughtfully. - -'Yes,' he answered, his eyes sparkling, his thin nostrils beginning to -dilate. 'Give me these two, and I will rule France!' - -'You will rule France?' I exclaimed, amazed beyond measure by his -audacity. 'You, man?' - -'Yes, I,' he answered, with abominable coolness. 'I, priest, monk, -Churchman, clerk. You look surprised, but mark you, sir, there is a -change going on. Our time is coming, and yours is going. What hampers -our lord the king and shuts him up in Blois, while rebellions stalk -through France? Lack of men? No; but lack of money. Who can get the -money for him--you the soldier, or I the clerk? A thousand times, I! -Therefore, my time is coming, and before you die you will see a priest -rule France.' - -'God forbid it should be you,' I answered scornfully. - -'As you please,' he answered, shrugging his shoulders, and assuming in -a breath a mask of humility which sat as ill on his monstrous conceit -as ever nun's veil on a trooper. 'Yet it may even be I; by the favour of -the Holy Catholic Church, whose humble minister I am.' - -I sprang up with a great oath at that, having no stomach for more of the -strange transformations, in which this man delighted, and whereof the -last had ever the air of being the most hateful. 'You villain!' I cried, -twisting my moustaches, a habit I have when enraged. 'And so you would -make me a stepping-stone to your greatness. You would bribe me--a -soldier and a gentleman. Go, before I do you a mischief. That is all -I have to say to you. Go! You have your answer. I will tell you -nothing--not a jot or a tittle. Begone from my room!' - -He fell back a step in his surprise, and stood against the table biting -his nails and scowling at me, fear and chagrin contending with half a -dozen devils for the possession of his face. 'So you have been deceiving -me,' he said slowly, and at last. - -'I have let you deceive yourself' I answered, looking at him with scorn, -but with little of the fear with which he had for a while inspired me. -'Begone, and do your worst.' - -'You know what you are doing,' he said. 'I have that will hang you, M. -de Marsac--or worse.' - -'Go!' I cried. - -'You have thought of your friends,' he continued mockingly. - -'Go!' I said. - -'Of Mademoiselle de la Vire, if by any chance she fall into my hands? -It will not be hanging for her. You remember the two Foucauds?'--and he -laughed. - -The vile threat, which I knew he had used to my mother, so worked upon -me that I strode forward unable to control myself longer. In another -moment I had certainly taken him by the throat and squeezed the life out -of his miserable carcase, had not Providence in its goodness intervened -to save me. The door, on which he had already laid his hand in terror, -opened suddenly. It admitted Simon, who, closing it; behind him, stood -looking from one to the other of us in nervous doubt; divided between -that respect for the priest which a training at the Sorbonne had -instilled into him, and the rage which despair arouses in the weakest. - -His presence, while it checked me in my purpose, seemed to give Father -Antoine courage, for the priest stood his ground, and even turned to me -a second time, his face dark with spite and disappointment. 'Good,' he -said hoarsely. 'Destroy yourself if you will! I advise you to bar -your door, for in an hour the guards will be here to fetch you to the -question.' - -Simon cried out at the threat, so that I turned and looked at the lad. -His knees were shaking, his hair stood on end. - -The priest saw his terror and his own opportunity. 'Ay, in an hour,' he -continued slowly, looking at him with cruel eyes. 'In an hour, lad! You -must be fond of pain to court it, and out of humour with life to throw -it away. Or stay,' he continued abruptly, after considering Simon's -narrowly for a moment, and doubtless deducing from it a last hope, 'I -will be merciful. I will give you one more chance.' - -'And yourself?' I said with a sneer. - -'As you please,' he answered, declining to be diverted from the -trembling lad, whom his gaze seemed to fascinate. 'I will give you until -half an hour after sunset this evening to reconsider the matter. If you -make up your minds to accept my terms, meet me then. I leave to-night -for Paris, and I will give you until the last moment. But,' he continued -grimly, 'if you do not meet me, or, meeting me, remain obstinate--God do -so to me, and more also, if you see the sun rise thrice.' - -Some impulse, I know not what, seeing that I had no thought of accepting -his terms or meeting him, led me to ask briefly, 'Where?' - -'On the Parvis of the Cathedral,' he answered after a moment's -calculation. 'At the north-east corner, half an hour after sunset. It is -a quiet spot.' - -Simon uttered a stifled exclamation. And then for a moment there was -silence in the room, while the lad breathed hard and irregularly, and I -stood rooted to the spot, looking so long and so strangely at the priest -that Father Antoine laid his hand again on the door and glanced uneasily -behind him. Nor was he content until he had hit on, as he fancied, the -cause of my strange regard. - -'Ha!' he said, his thin lip curling in conceit at his astuteness, 'I -understand you think to kill me to-night? Let me tell you, this house is -watched. If you leave here to meet me with any companion--unless it be -M. d'Agen, whom I can trust, I shall be warned, and be gone before you -reach the rendezvous. And gone, mind you,' he added, with a grim smile, -'to sign your death-warrant.' - -He went out with that, closing the door behind him; and we heard his -step go softly down the staircase. I gazed at Simon, and he at me, with -all the astonishment and awe which it was natural we should feel in -presence of so remarkable a coincidence. - -For by a marvel the priest had named the same spot and the same time as -the sender of the velvet knot! - -'He will go,' Simon said, his face flushed and his voice trembling, 'and -they will go.' - -'And in the dark they will not know him,' I muttered. 'He is about my -height. They will take him for me!' - -'And kill him!' Simon cried hysterically. 'They will kill him! He goes -to his death, monsieur. It is the finger of God.' - - - -CHAPTER XX. THE KING'S FACE. - -It seemed so necessary to bring home the crime to Bruhl should the -priest really perish in the trap laid for me, that I came near to -falling into one of those mistakes to which men of action are prone. For -my first impulse was to follow the priest to the Parvis, closely enough, -if possible, to detect the assassins in the act, and with sufficient -force, if I could muster it, to arrest them. The credit of dissuading -me from this course lies with Simon, who pointed out its dangers in -so convincing a manner that I was brought with little difficulty to -relinquish it. - -Instead, acting on his advice, I sent him to M. d'Agen's lodging, to beg -that young gentleman to call upon me before evening. After searching -the lodging and other places in vain, Simon found M. d'Agen in the -tennis-court at the Castle, and, inventing a crafty excuse, brought him -to my lodging a full hour before the time. - -My visitor was naturally surprised to find that I had nothing particular -to say to him. I dared not tell him what occupied my thoughts, and -for the rest invention failed me. But his gaiety and those pretty -affectations on which he spent an infinity of pains, for the purpose, -apparently, of hiding the sterling worth of a character deficient -neither in courage nor backbone, were united to much good nature. -Believing at last that I had sent for him in a fit of the vapours, -he devoted himself to amusing me and abusing Bruhl--a very favourite -pastime with him. And in this way he made out a call of two hours. - -I had not long to wait for proof of Simon's wisdom in taking this -precaution. We thought it prudent to keep within doors after our guest's -departure, and so passed the night in ignorance whether anything had -happened or not. But about seven next morning one of the Marquis's -servants, despatched by M. d'Agen, burst in upon us with the news--which -was no news from the moment his hurried footstep sounded on the stairs -that Father Antoine had been set upon and killed the previous evening! - -I heard this confirmation of my hopes with grave thankfulness; Simon -with so much emotion that when the messenger was gone he sat down on a -stool and began to sob and tremble as if he had lost his mother, instead -of a mortal foe. I took advantage of the occasion to read him a sermon -on the end of crooked courses; nor could I myself recall without a -shudder the man's last words to me; or the lawless and evil designs in -which he had rejoiced, while standing on the very brink of the pit which -was to swallow up both him and them in everlasting darkness. - -Naturally, the uppermost feeling in my mind was relief. I was free once -more. In all probability the priest had kept his knowledge to himself, -and without him his agents would be powerless. Simon, it is true, heard -that the town was much excited by the event; and that many attributed -it to the Huguenots. But we did not suffer ourselves to be depressed -by this, nor had I any foreboding until the sound of a second hurried -footstep mounting the stairs reached our ears. - -I knew the step in a moment for M. d'Agen's, and something ominous in -its ring brought me to my feet before he opened the door. Significant as -was his first hasty look round the room, he recovered at sight of me -all his habitual SANG-FROID. He saluted me, and spoke coolly, though -rapidly. But he panted, and I noticed in a moment that he had lost his -lisp. - -'I am happy in finding you,' he said, closing the door carefully behind -him, 'for I am the bearer of ill news, and there is not a moment to -be lost. The king has signed an order for your instant consignment to -prison, M. de Marsac, and, once there, it is difficult to say what may -not happen.' - -'My consignment?' I exclaimed. I may be pardoned if the news for a -moment found me unprepared. - -'Yes,' he replied quickly. 'The king has signed it at the instance of -Marshal Retz.' - -'But for what?' I cried in amazement. - -'The murder of Father Antoine. You will pardon me,' he continued -urgently, 'but this is no time for words. The Provost-Marshal is even -now on his way to arrest you. Your only hope is to evade him, and gain -an audience of the king. I have persuaded my uncle to go with you, -and he is waiting at his lodgings. There is not a moment to be -lost, however, if you would reach the king's presence before you are -arrested.' - -'But I am innocent!' I cried. - -'I know it,' M. d'Agen answered, 'and can prove it. But if you cannot -get speech of the king innocence will avail you nothing. You have -powerful enemies. Come without more ado, M. de Marsac, I pray,' he -added. - -His manner, even more than his words, impressed me with a sense of -urgency; and postponing for a time my own judgment, I hurriedly thanked -him for his friendly offices. Snatching up my sword, which lay on a -chair, I buckled it on; for Simon's fingers trembled so violently he -could give me no help. This done I nodded to M. d'Agen to go first, and -followed him from the room, Simon attending us of his own motion. It -would be then about eleven o'clock in the forenoon. - -My companion ran down the stairs without ceremony, and so quickly it was -all I could do to keep up with him. At the outer door he signed me to -stand, and darting himself into the street, he looked anxiously in the -direction of the Rue St. Denys. Fortunately the coast was still clear, -and he beckoned to me to follow him. I did so and starting to walk in -the opposite direction as fast as we could, in less than a minute we had -put a corner between us and the house. - -Our hopes of escaping unseen, however, were promptly dashed. The house, -I have said, stood in a quiet by-street, which was bounded on the -farther side by a garden-wall buttressed at intervals. We had scarcely -gone a dozen paces from my door when a man slipped from the shelter of -one of these buttresses, and after a single glance at us, set off to run -towards the Rue St. Denys. - -M. d'Agen looked back and nodded. 'There goes the news,' he said. 'They -will try to cut us off, but I think we have the start of them.' - -I made no reply, feeling that I had resigned myself entirely into his -hands. But as we passed through the Rue de Valois, in part of which a -market was held at this hour, attracting a considerable concourse of -peasants and others, I fancied I detected signs of unusual bustle and -excitement. It seemed unlikely that news of the priest's murder should -affect so many people and to such a degree, and I asked M. d'Agen what -it meant. - -'There is a rumour abroad,' he answered, without slackening speed, 'that -the king intends to move south to Tours at once.' - -I muttered my surprise and satisfaction. 'He will come to terms with the -Huguenots then?' I said. - -'It looks like it,' M. d'Agen rejoined. 'Retz's party are in an -ill-humour on that account, and will wreak it on you if they get a -chance. On guard!' he added abruptly. 'Here are two of them!' - -As he spoke we emerged from the crowd, and I saw, half a dozen paces -in front; of us, and coming to meet us, a couple of Court gallants, -attended by as many servants. They espied us at the same moment, and -came across the street, which was tolerably wide at that part, with the -evident intention of stopping us. Simultaneously, however, we crossed to -take their side, and so met them face to face in the middle of the way. - -'M. d'Agen,' the foremost exclaimed, speaking in a haughty tone, and -with a dark side glance at me, 'I am sorry to see you in such company! -Doubtless you are not aware that this gentleman is the subject of an -order which has even now been issued to the Provost-Marshal.' - -'And if so, sir? What of that?' my companion lisped in his silkiest -tone. - -'What of that?' the other cried, frowning, and pushing slightly forward. - -'Precisely,' M. d'Agen repeated, laying his hand on his hilt and -declining to give back. 'I am not aware that his Majesty has appointed -you Provost-Marshal, or that you have any warrant, M. Villequier, -empowering you to stop gentlemen in the public streets.' - -M. Villequier reddened with anger. 'You are young, M. d'Agen,' he said, -his voice quivering, 'or I would make you pay dearly for that!' - -'My friend is not young,' M. d'Agen retorted, bowing. 'He is a gentleman -of birth, M. Villequier; by repute, as I learned yesterday, one of the -best swordsmen in France, and no Gascon. If you feel inclined to arrest -him, do so, I pray. And I will have the honour of engaging your son.' - -As we had all by this time our hands on our swords, there needed but a -blow to bring about one of those street brawls which were more common -then than now. A number of market-people, drawn to the spot by our -raised voices, had gathered round, and were waiting eagerly to see what -would happen. But Villeqier, as my companion perhaps knew, was a Gascon -in heart as well as by birth, and seeing our determined aspects, thought -better of it. Shrugging his shoulders with an affectation of disdain -which imposed on no one, he signalled to his servants to go on, and -himself stood aside. - -'I thank you for your polite offer,' he said with an evil smile, 'and -will remember it. But as you say, sir, I am not the Provost-Marshal.' - -Paying little heed to his words, we bowed, passed him, and hurried on. -But the peril was not over. Not only had the RENCONTRE cost us some -precious minutes, but the Gascon, after letting us proceed a little way, -followed us. And word being passed by his servants, as we supposed, that -one of us was the murderer of Father Antoine, the rumour spread through -the crowd like wildfire, and in a few moments we found ourselves -attended by a troop of CANAILLE who, hanging on our skirts, caused Simon -Fleix no little apprehension. Notwithstanding the contempt which M. -d'Agen, whose bearing throughout was admirable, expressed for them, we -might have found it necessary to turn and teach them a lesson had we not -reached M. de Rambouillet's in the nick of time; where we found the -door surrounded by half a dozen armed servants, at sight of whom our -persecutors fell back with the cowardice which is usually found in that -class. - -If I had been tempted of late to think M. de Rambouillet fickle, I had -no reason to complain now; whether his attitude was due to M. d'Agen's -representations, or to the reflection that without me the plans he had -at heart must miscarry. I found him waiting within, attended by three -gentlemen, all cloaked and ready for the road; while the air of purpose, -which sat on his brow indicated that he thought the crisis no common -one. Not a moment was lost, even in explanations. Waving me to the door -again, and exchanging a few sentences with his nephew, he gave the word -to start, and we issued from the house in a body. Doubtless the fact -that those who sought to ruin me were his political enemies had some -weight with him; for I saw his face harden as his eyes met those of M. -de Villequier, who passed slowly before the door as we came out. The -Gascon, however, was not the man to interfere with so large a party, and -dropped back; while M. de Rambouillet, after exchanging a cold salute -with him, led the way towards the Castle at a round pace. His nephew and -I walked one on either side of him, and the others, to the number of ten -or eleven, pressed on behind in a compact body, our cortege presenting -so determined a front that the crowd, which had remained hanging about -the door, fled every way. Even some peaceable folk who found themselves -in our road took the precaution of slipping into doorways, or stood -aside to give us the full width of the street. - -I remarked--and I think it increased my anxiety--that our leader -was dressed with more than usual care and richness, but, unlike his -attendants, wore no arms. He took occasion, as we hurried along, to give -me a word of advice. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, looking at me suddenly, -'my nephew has given me to understand that you place yourself entirely -in my hands.' - -I replied that I asked for no better fortune, and, whatever the event, -thanked him from the bottom of my heart. - -'Be pleased then to keep silence until I bid you speak,' he replied -sharply, for he was one of those whom a sudden stress sours and -exacerbates. 'And, above all, no violence without my orders. We are -about to fight a battle, and a critical one, but it must be won with our -heads. If we can we will keep you out of the Provost-Marshal's hands.' - -And if not? I remembered the threats Father Antoine had used, and in -a moment I lost sight of the street with all its light and life and -movement. I felt no longer the wholesome stinging of the wind. I tasted -instead a fetid air, and saw round me a narrow cell and masked figures, -and in particular a swarthy man is a leather apron leaning over a -brazier, from which came lurid flames. And I was bound. I experienced -that utter helplessness which is the last test of courage. The man -came forward, and then--then, thank God! the vision passed away. -An exclamation to which M. d'Agen gave vent, brought me back to the -present, and to the blessed knowledge that the fight was not yet over. - -We were within a score of paces, I found, of the Castle gates; but so -were also a second party, who had just debouched from a side-street, and -now hurried on, pace for pace, with us, with the evident intention of -forestalling us, The race ended in both companies reaching the entrance -at the same time, with the consequence of some jostling taking place -amongst the servants. This must have led to blows but for the strenuous -commands which M. de Rambouillet had laid upon his followers. I found -myself in a moment confronted by a row of scowling faces, while a dozen -threatening hands were stretched out towards me, and as many voices, -among which I recognised Fresnoy's, cried out tumultuously, 'That is he! -That is the one!' - -An elderly man in a quaint dress stepped forward, a paper in his hand, -and, backed as he was by half a dozen halberdiers, would in a moment -have laid hands on me if M. de Rambouillet had not intervened with a -negligent air of authority, which sat on him the more gracefully as he -held nothing but a riding-switch in his hands. 'Tut, tut! What is this?' -he said lightly. 'I am not wont to have my people interfered with, M. -Provost, without my leave. You know me, I suppose?' - -'Perfectly, M. le Marquis,' the man answered with dogged respect; 'but -this is by the king's special command.' - -'Very good,' my patron answered, quietly eyeing the faces behind the -Provost-Marshal, as if he were making a note of them; which caused some -of the gentlemen manifest uneasiness. 'That is soon seen, for we are -even now about to seek speech with his Majesty.' - -'Not this gentleman,' the Provost-Marshal answered firmly, raising his -hand again. 'I cannot let him pass.' - -'Yes, this gentleman too, by your leave,' the Marquis retorted, lightly -putting the hand aside with his cane. - -'Sir,' said the other, retreating a step, and speaking with some heat, -'this is no jest with all respect. I hold the king's own order, and it -may not be resisted.' - -The nobleman tapped his silver comfit-box and smiled. 'I shall be the -last to resist it--if you have it,' he said languidly. - -'You may read it for yourself,' the Provost-Marshal answered, his -patience exhausted. - -M. de Rambouillet took the parchment with the ends of his fingers, -glanced at it, and gave it back. 'As I thought,' he said, 'a manifest -forgery.' - -'A forgery!' cried the other, crimson with indignation. 'And I had -it from the hands of the king's own secretary!' At this those behind -murmured, some 'shame,' and some one thing and some another--all with -an air so threatening that the Marquis's gentlemen closed up behind him, -and M. d'Agen laughed rudely. - -But M. de Rambouillet remained unmoved. 'You may have had it from whom -you please, sir,' he said. 'It is a forgery, and I shall resist its -execution. If you choose to await me here, I will give you my word to -render this gentleman to you within an hour, should the order hold good. -If you will not wait, I shall command my servants to clear the way, and -if ill happen, then the responsibility will lie with you.' - -He spoke in so resolute a manner it was not difficult to see that -something more was at stake than the arrest of a single man. This was -so; the real issue was whether the king, with whose instability it was -difficult to cope, should fall back into the hands of his old advisers -or not. My arrest was a move in the game intended as a counterblast to -the victory which M. de Rambouillet had gained when he persuaded the -king to move to Tours; a city in the neighbourhood of the Huguenots, and -a place of arms whence union with them would be easy. - -The Provost-Marshal could, no doubt, make a shrewd guess at these -things. He knew that the order he had would be held valid or not -according as one party or the other gained the mastery; and, seeing M. -de Rambouillet's resolute demeanour, he gave way. Rudely interrupted -more than once by his attendants, among whom were some of Bruhl's men, -he muttered an ungracious assent to our proposal; on which, and without -a moment's delay, the Marquis took me by the arm and hurried me across -the courtyard. - -And so far, well. My heart began to rise. But, for the Marquis, as we -mounted the staircase the anxiety he had dissembled while we faced the -Provost-Marshal, broke out in angry mutterings; from which I gathered -that the crisis was yet to come. I was not surprised, therefore, when an -usher rose on our appearance in the antechamber, and, quickly crossing -the floor, interposed between us and the door of the chamber, informing -the Marquis with a low obeisance that his Majesty was engaged. - -'He will see me,' M. de Rambouillet cried, looking haughtily round on -the sneering pages and lounging courtiers, who grew civil under his eye. - -'I have particular orders, sir, to admit so one,' the man answered. - -'Tut, tut, they do not apply to me,' my companion retorted, nothing -daunted. 'I know the business on which the king is engaged, and I -am here to assist him.' And raising his hand he thrust the startled -official aside, and hardily pushed the doors of the chamber open. - -The king, surrounded by half a dozen persons, was in the act of putting -on his riding-boots. On hearing us, he turned his head with a startled -air, and dropped in his confusion one of the ivory cylinders he was -using; while his aspect, and that of the persons who stood round him, -reminded me irresistibly of a party of schoolboys detected in a fault. - -He recovered himself, it is true, almost immediately; and turning his -back to us? continued to talk to the persons round him on such trifling -subjects as commonly engaged him. He carried on this conversation in -a very free way, studiously ignoring our presence; but it was plain he -remained aware of it, and even that he was uneasy under the cold and -severe gaze which the Marquis, who seemed in nowise affrighted by his -reception, bent upon him. - -I, for my part, had no longer any confidence. Nay, I came near to -regretting that I had persevered in an attempt so useless. The warrant -which awaited me at the gates seemed less formidable than his Majesty's -growing displeasure; which I saw I was incurring by remaining where -I was. It needed not the insolent glance of Marshal Retz, who lounged -smiling by the king's hand, or the laughter of a couple of pages who -stood at the head of the chamber, to deprive me of my last hope; while -some things which might have cheered me--the uneasiness of some -about the king, and the disquietude which underlay Marshal Retz's -manner--escaped my notice altogether. - -What I did see clearly was that the king's embarrassment was fast -changing to anger. The paint which reddened his cheeks prevented tiny -alteration in his colour being visible, but his frown and the nervous -manner in which he kept taking off and putting on his jewelled cap -betrayed him. At length, signing to one of his companions to follow, -he moved a little aside to a window, whence, after a few moments, the -gentleman came to us. - -'M. de Rambouillet,' he said, speaking coldly and formally, 'his Majesty -is displeased by this gentleman's presence, and requires him to withdraw -forthwith.' - -'His Majesty's word is law,' my patron answered, bowing low, and -speaking in a clear voice audible throughout; the chamber, 'but the -matter which brings this gentleman here is of the utmost importance, and -touches his Majesty's person.' - -M. de Retz laughed jeeringly. The other courtiers looked grave. The -king shrugged his shoulders with a peevish gesture, but after a moment's -hesitation, during which he looked first at Retz and then at M. de -Rambouillet, he signed to the Marquis to approach. - -'Why have you brought him here?' he muttered sharply, looking askance at -me. 'He should have been bestowed according to my orders.' - -'He has information for your Majesty's private ear,' Rambouillet -answered. And he looked so meaningly at the king that Henry, I think, -remembered on a sudden his compact with Rosny, and my part in it; for -he started with the air of a man suddenly awakened. 'To prevent that -information reaching you, sire,' my patron continued, 'his enemies have -practised on your Majesty's well-known sense of justice.' - -'Oh, but stay, stay!' the king cried, hitching forward the scanty cloak -he wore, which barely came down to his waist. 'The man has killed a -priest! He has killed a priest, man!' - -He repeated with confidence, as if he had now got hold of the right -argument. - -That is not so, sire, craving your Majesty's pardon, M. de Rambouillet; -replied with the utmost coolness. - -'Tut! Tut! The evidence is clear,' the king said peevishly. - -'As to that, sire,' my companion rejoined, 'if it is of the murder of -Father Antoine he is accused, I say boldly that there is none.' - -'Then there you are mistaken!' the king answered. 'I heard it with my -own ears this morning.' - -'Will you deign, sire, to tell me its nature?' M. de Rambouillet -persisted. - -But on that Marshal Retz thought it necessary to intervene. 'Need we -turn his Majesty's chamber into a court of justice?' he said smoothly. -Hitherto he had not spoken; trusting, perhaps, to the impression he had -already made upon the king. - -M. de Rambouillet took no notice of him. - -'But Bruhl,' said the king, 'you see, Bruhl says--' - -'Bruhl!' my companion replied, with so much contempt that Henry started. -'Surely your Majesty has not taken his word against this gentleman, of -all people?' - -Thus reminded, a second time, of the interests entrusted to me, and -of the advantage which Bruhl would gain by my disappearance, the king -looked first confused, and then angry. He vented his passion in one or -two profane oaths, with the childish addition that we were all a set of -traitors, and that he had no one whom he could trust. But my companion -had touched the right chord at last; for when the king grew more -composed, he waved aside Marshal Retz's protestations, and sullenly bade -Rambouillet say what he had to say. - -'The monk was killed, sire, about sunset,' he answered. 'Now my nephew, -M. d'Agen, is without, and will tell your Majesty that he was with this -gentleman at his lodgings from about an hour before sunset last evening -until a full hour after. Consequently, M. de Marsac can hardly be the -assassin, and M. le Marechal must look elsewhere if he wants vengeance.' - -'Justice, sir, not vengeance.' Marshal Retz said with a dark glance. His -keen Italian face hid his trouble well, but a little pulse of passion -beating in his olive cheek betrayed the secret to those who knew him. -He had a harder part to play than his opponent; for while Rambouillet's -hands were clean, Retz knew himself a traitor, and liable at any moment -to discovery and punishment. - -'Let M. d'Agen be called,' Henry said curtly. - -'And if your Majesty pleases,' Retz added, 'M. de Bruhl also, If you -really intend, sire, that is, to reopen a matter which I thought had -been settled.' - -The king nodded obstinately, his face furrowed with ill-temper. He kept -his shifty eyes, which seldom met those of the person he addressed, on -the floor; and this accentuated the awkward stooping carriage which was -natural to him. There were seven or eight dogs of exceeding smallness in -the room, and while we waited for the persons who had been summoned, he -kicked, now one and now another of the baskets which held them, as if he -found in this some vent for his ill-humour. - -The witnesses presently appeared, followed by several persons, among -whom were the Dukes of Nevers and Mercoeur, who came to ride out with -the king, and M. de Crillon; so that the chamber grew passably full. -The two dukes nodded formally to the Marquis, as they passed him, but -entered into a muttered conversation with Retz, who appeared to be -urging them to press his cause. They seemed to decline, however, -shrugging their short cloaks as if the matter were too insignificant. -Crillon on his part cried audibly, and with an oath, to know what the -matter was; and being informed, asked whether all this fuss was being -made about a damned shaveling monk. - -Henry, whose tenderness for the cowl was well known, darted an angry -glance at him, but contented himself with saying sharply to M. d'Agen, -'Now, sir, what do you know about the matter?' - -'One moment, sire,' M. Rambouillet cried, interposing before Francois -could answer. 'Craving your Majesty's pardon, you have heard M. de -Bruhl's account. May I, as a favour to myself, beg you, sire, to permit -us also to hear it?' - -'What?' Marshal Retz exclaimed angrily, 'are we to be the judges, then, -or his Majesty? Arnidieu!' he continued hotly, 'what, in the fiend's -name, have we to do with it? I protest 'fore Heaven--' - -'Ay, sir, and what do you protest?' my champion retorted, turning to him -with stern disdain. - -'Silence!' cried the king who had listened almost bewildered. 'Silence! -By God, gentlemen,' he continued, his eye travelling round the circle -with a sparkle of royal anger in it not unworthy of his crown, 'you -forget yourselves. I will have none of this quarrelling in my presence -or out of it. I lost Quelus and Maugiron that way, and loss enough, and -I will have none of it, I say! M. de Bruhl,' he added, standing erect, -and looking for the moment, with all his paint and frippery, a king, 'M. -de Bruhl, repeat your story.' - -The feelings with which I listened to this controversy may be imagined. -Devoured in turn by hope and fear as now one side and now the other -seemed likely to prevail, I confronted at one moment the gloom of the -dungeon, and at another tasted the air of freedom, which had never -seemed so sweet before. Strong as these feelings were, however, they -gave way to curiosity at this point; when I heard Bruhl called, and saw -him come forward at the king's command. Knowing this man to be himself -guilty, I marvelled with what face he would present himself before all -those eyes, and from what depths of impudence he could draw supplies in -such an emergency. - -I need not have troubled myself, however, for he was fully equal to the -occasion. His high colour and piercing black eyes met the gaze of friend -and foe alike without flinching. Dressed well and elegantly, he wore -his raven hair curled in the mode, and looked alike gay, handsome, and -imperturbable. If there was a suspicion of coarseness about his bulkier -figure, as he stood beside M. d'Agen, who was the courtier perfect -and point devise, it went to the scale of sincerity, seeing that men -naturally associate truth with strength. - -'I know no more than this, sire,' he said easily; 'that, happening to -cross the Parvis at the moment of the murder, I heard Father Antoine -scream. He uttered four words only, in the tone of a man in mortal -peril. They were'--and here the speaker looked for an instant at -me--'Ha! Marsac! A moi!' - -'Indeed!' M. de Rambouillet said, after looking to the king for -permission. 'And that was all? You saw nothing?' - -Bruhl shook his head. 'It was too dark,' he said. - -'And heard no more?' - -'No.' - -'Do I understand, then,' the Marquis continued slowly, 'that M. de -Marsac is arrested because the priest--God rest his soul!--cried to him -for help?' - -'For help?' M. de Retz exclaimed fiercely. - -'For help?' said the king, surprised. And at that the most; ludicrous -change fell upon the faces of all. The king looked puzzled, the Duke -of Nevers smiled, the Duke of Mercoeur laughed aloud. Crillon cried -boisterously, 'Good hit!' and the majority, who wished no better than to -divine the winning party, grinned broadly, whether they would or no. - -To Marshal Retz, however, and Bruhl, that which to everyone else seemed -an amusing retort had a totally different aspect; while the former -turned yellow with chagrin and came near to choking, the latter looked -as chapfallen and startled as if his guilt; had been that moment brought -home to him. Assured by the tone of the monk's voice--which must, -indeed, have thundered in his ears--that my name was uttered in -denunciation by one who thought me his assailant, he had chosen to tell -the truth without reflecting that words, so plain to him, might; bear a -different construction when repeated. - -'Certainly the words seem ambiguous,' Henry muttered. - -'But it was Marsac killed him,' Retz cried in a rage. - -'It is for some evidence of that we are waiting,' my champion answered -suavely. - -The Marshal looked helplessly at Nevers and Mercoeur, who commonly took -part with him; but apparently those noblemen had not been primed -for this occasion. They merely shook their heads and smiled. In the -momentary silence which followed, while all looked curiously at Bruhl, -who could not conceal his mortification, M. d'Agen stepped forward. - -'If your Majesty will permit me,' he said, a malicious simper crossing -his handsome face--I had often remarked his extreme dislike for Bruhl -without understanding it--'I think I can furnish some evidence more -to the point than that; to which M. de Bruhl has with so much fairness -restricted himself.' He then went on to state that he had had the honour -of being in my company at the time of the murder; and he added, besides, -so many details as to exculpate me to the satisfaction of any candid -person. - -The king nodded. 'That settles the matter,' he said, with a sigh of -relief. 'You think so, Mercoeur, do you not? Precisely. Villequier, see -that the order respecting M. de Marsac is cancelled.' - -M. de Retz could not control his wrath on hearing this direction given. -'At this rate,' he cried recklessly, 'we shall have few priests left -here! We have got a bad name at Blois, as it is!' - -For a moment all in the circle held their breath, while the king's eyes -flashed fire at this daring allusion to the murder of the Duke de Guise, -and his brother the Cardinal. But it was Henry's misfortune to be ever -indulgent in the wrong place, and severe when severity was either unjust -or impolitic. He recovered himself with an effort, and revenged himself -only by omitting to invite the Marshal, who was now trembling in his -shoes, to join his riding-party. - -The circle broke up amid some excitement. I stood on one side with M. -d'Agen, while the king and his immediate following passed out, and, -greatly embarrassed as I was by the civil congratulating of many who -would have seen me hang with equal goodwill, I was sharp enough to see -that something was brewing between Bruhl and Marshal Retz, who stood -back conversing in low tones. I was not surprised, therefore, when -the former made his way towards me through the press which filled the -antechamber, and with a lowering brow requested a word with me. - -'Certainly,' I said, watching him narrowly, for I knew him to be both -treacherous and a bully. 'Speak on, sir.' - -'You have balked me once and again,' he rejoined, in a voice which shook -a little, as did the fingers with which he stroked his waxed moustache. -'There is no need of words between us. I, with one sword besides, will -to-morrow at noon keep the bridge at Chaverny, a league from here. It -is an open country. Possibly your pleasure may lead you to ride that way -with a friend?' - -'You may depend upon me, sir,' I answered, bowing low, and feeling -thankful that the matter was at length to be brought to a fair and open -arbitration. 'I will be there--and in person. For my deputy last night,' -I added, searching his face with a steadfast eye, 'seems to have been -somewhat unlucky.' - - - -CHAPTER XXI. TWO WOMEN. - -Out of compliment, and to show my gratitude, I attended M. de -Rambouillet home to his lodging, and found him as much pleased with -himself, and consequently with me, as I was with him. For the time, -indeed, I came near to loving him; and, certainly, he was a man of high -and patriotic feeling, and of skill and conduct to match. But he lacked -that touch of nature and that power of sympathising with others which -gave to such men as M. de Rosny and the king, my master, their peculiar -charm; though after what I have related of him in the last chapter it -does not lie in my mouth to speak ill of him. And, indeed, he was a good -man. - -When I at last reached my lodging, I found a surprise awaiting me in the -shape of a note which had just arrived no one knew how. If the manner -of its delivery was mysterious, however, its contents were brief and -sufficiently explicit; for it; ran thus: 'SIR, BY MEETING ME THREE HOURS -AFTER NOON IN THE SQUARE BEFORE THE HOUSE OF THE LITTLE SISTERS YOU -WILL DO A SERVICE AT ONCE TO YOURSELF AND TO THE UNDERSIGNED, MARIE DE -BRUHL.' - -That was all, written in a feminine character, yet it was enough to -perplex me. Simon, who had manifested the liveliest joy at my escape, -would have had me treat it as I had treated the invitation to the Parvis -of the Cathedral; ignore it altogether I mean. But I was of a different -mind, and this for three reasons, among others: that the request was -straightforward, the time early, and the place sufficiently public to be -an unlikely theatre for violence, though well fitted for an interview -to which the world at large was not invited. Then, too, the square lay -little more than a bowshot from my lodging, though on the farther side -of the Rue St. Denys. - -Besides, I could conceive many grounds which Madame de Bruhl might have -for seeing me; of which some touched me nearly. I disregarded Simon's -warnings, therefore, and repaired at the time appointed to the place--a -clean, paved square a little off the Rue St. Denys, and entered from -the latter by a narrow passage. It was a spot pleasantly convenient -for meditation, but overlooked on one side by the House of the Little -Sisters; in which, as I guessed afterwards, madame must have awaited me, -for the square when I entered it was empty, yet in a moment, though no -one came in from the street, she stood beside me. She wore a mask and -long cloak. The beautiful hair and perfect complexion, which had filled -me with so much admiration at our first meeting in her house, were -hidden, but I saw enough of her figure and carriage to be sure that it -was Madame de Bruhl and no other. - -She began by addressing me in a tone of bitterness, for which I was not -altogether unprepared. - -'Well, sir,' she exclaimed, her voice trembling with anger, 'you are -satisfied, I hope, with your work?' - -I expected this and had my answer ready. 'I am not aware, Madame,' I -said, 'that I have cause to reproach myself. But, however that may be, I -trust you have summoned me for some better purpose than to chide me for -another's fault; though it was my voice which brought it to light.' - -'Why did you shame me publicly?' she retorted, thrusting her -handkerchief to her lips and withdrawing it again with a passionate -gesture. - -'Madame,' I answered patiently--I was full of pity for her, 'consider -for a moment the wrong your husband did me and how small and inadequate -was the thing I did to him in return.' - -'To him!' she ejaculated so fiercely that I started. 'It was to me--to -me you did it! What had I done that you should expose me to the ridicule -of those who know no pity, and the anger of one as merciless? What had I -done, sir?' - -I shook my head sorrowfully. 'So far, madame,' I answered, 'I allow I -owe you reparation, and I will make it should it ever be in my power. -Nay, I will say more,' I continued, for the tone in which she spoke had -wrung my heart. 'In one point I strained the case against your husband. -To the best of my belief he abducted the lady who was in my charge, -not for the love of her, but for political reasons, and as the agent of -another.' - -She gasped. 'What?' she cried. 'Say that again!' - -As I complied she tore off her mask and gazed into my face with -straining eyes and parted lips. I saw then how much she was changed, -even in these few days--how pale and worn were her cheeks, how dark -the circles round her eyes. 'Will you swear to it?' she said at last, -speaking with uncontrollable eagerness, while she laid a hand which -shook with excitement on my arm. Will you swear to it, sir?' - -'It is true,' I answered steadfastly. I might have added that after the -event her husband had so treated mademoiselle as to lead her to fear the -worst. But I refrained, feeling that it was no part of my duty to come -between husband and wife. - -She clasped her hands, and for a moment looked passionately upwards, as -though she were giving thanks to Heaven; while the flesh of health and -loveliness which I had so much admired returned, and illumined her -face in a wonderful manner. She seemed, in truth and for the moment, -transformed. Her blue eyes filled with tears, her lips moved; nor have -I ever seen anything bear so near a resemblance to those pictures of the -Virgin Mary which Romans worship as madame did then. - -The change, however, was as evanescent as it was admirable. In an -instant she seemed to collapse. She struck her hands to her face and -moaned, and I saw tears, which she vainly strove to restrain, dropping -through her fingers. 'Too late!' she murmured, in a tone of anguish -which wrung my heart. 'Alas, you robbed me of one man, you give me back -another. I know him now for what he is. If he did not love her then, he -does now. It is too late!' - -She seemed so much overcome that I assisted her to reach a bench which -stood against the wall a few paces away; nor, I confess, was it without -difficulty and much self-reproach that I limited myself to those prudent -offices only which her state and my duty required. To console her on the -subject of her husband was impossible; to ignore him, and so to console -her, a task which neither my discretion nor my sense of honour, though -sorely tried, permitted me to undertake. - -She presently recovered and, putting on her mask again, said hurriedly -that she had still a word to say to me. 'You have treated me honestly,' -she continued, 'and, though I have no cause to do anything but hate you, -I say in return, look to yourself! You escaped last night--I know all, -for it was my velvet knot--which I had made thinking to send it to you -to procure this meeting--that he used as a lure. But he is not yet at -the end of his resources. Look to yourself, therefore.' - -I thought of the appointment I had made with him for the morrow, but I -confined myself to thanking her, merely saying, as I bowed over the hand -she resigned to me in token of farewell, 'Madame, I am grateful. I am -obliged to you both for your warning and your forgiveness.' - -'Bending her head coldly she drew away her hand. At that moment, as I -lifted my eyes, I saw something which for an instant rooted me to the -spot with astonishment. In the entrance of the passage which led to the -Rue St. Denys two people were standing, watching us. The one was Simon -Fleix, and the other, a masked woman, a trifle below the middle height, -and clad in a riding-coat, was Mademoiselle de la Vire! - -I knew her in a moment. But the relief I experienced on seeing her safe -and in Blois was not unmixed with annoyance that Simon Fleix should have -been so imprudent as to parade her unnecessarily in the street. I felt -something of confusion also on my own account; for I could not tell how -long she and her escort had been watching me. And these two feelings -were augmented when, after turning to pay a final salute to Madame -de Bruhl, I looked again towards the passage and discovered that -mademoiselle and her squire were gone. - -Impatient as I was, I would not seem to leave madame rudely or without -feeling, after the consideration she had shown me in her own sorrow; and -accordingly I waited uncovered until she disappeared within the 'Little -Sisters.' Then I started eagerly towards my lodging, thinking I might -yet overtake mademoiselle before she entered. I was destined to meet, -however, with another though very pertinent hindrance. As I passed from -the Rue St. Denys into the quiet of my street I heard a voice calling my -name, and, looking back, saw M. de Rambouillet's equerry, a man deep in -his confidence, running after me. He brought a message from his master, -which he begged me to consider of the first importance. - -'The Marquis would not trust it to writing, sir,' he continued, drawing -me aside into a corner where we were conveniently retired, 'but he made -me learn it by heart. "Tell M. de Marsac," said he, "that that which he -was left in Blois to do must be done quickly, or not at all. There is -something afoot in the other camp, I am not sure what. But now is the -time to knock in the nail. I know his zeal, and I depend upon him."' - -An hour before I should have listened to this message with serious -doubts and misgivings. Now, acquainted with mademoiselle's arrival, I -returned M. de Rambouillet an answer in the same strain, and parting -civilly from Bertram, who was a man I much esteemed, I hastened on to my -lodgings, exulting in the thought that the hour and the woman were come -at last, and that before the dawn of another day I might hope, all being -well, to accomplish with honour to myself and advantage to others the -commission which M. de Rosny had entrusted to me. - -I must not deny that, mingled with this, was some excitement at the -prospect of seeing mademoiselle again. I strove to conjure up before me -as I mounted the stairs the exact expression of her face as I had last -seen it bending from the window at Rosny; to the end that I might have -some guide for my future conduct, and might be less likely to fall into -the snare of a young girl's coquetry. But I could come now, as then, to -no satisfactory or safe conclusion, and only felt anew the vexation I -had experienced on losing the velvet knot, which she had given me on -that occasion. - -I knocked at the door of the rooms which I had reserved for her, and -which were on the floor below my own; but I got no answer. Supposing -that Simon had taken her upstairs, I mounted quickly, not doubting I -should find her there. Judge of my surprise and dismay when I found that -room also empty, save for the lackey whom M. de Rambouillet had lent me! - -'Where are they?' I asked the man, speaking sharply, and standing with -my hand on the door. - -'The lady and her woman, sir?' he answered, coming forward. - -'Yes, yes!' I cried impatiently, a sudden fear at my heart. - -She went out immediately after her arrival with Simon Fleix, sir, and -has not yet returned,' he answered. - -The words were scarcely out of his mouth before I heard several persons -enter the passage below and begin to ascend the stairs. I did not; -doubt that mademoiselle and the lad had come home another way and, been -somehow detained; and I turned with a sigh of relief to receive them. -But when the persons whose steps I had heard appeared, they proved to be -only M. de Rosny's equerry, stout, burly, and bright-eyed as ever, and -two armed servants. - - - -CHAPTER XXII. 'LA FEMME DISPOSE.' - -The moment the equerry's foot touched the uppermost stair I advanced -upon him. 'Where is your mistress, man?' I said. 'Where is Mademoiselle -de la Vire? Be quick, tell me what you have done with her.' - -His face fell amazingly. 'Where is she?' he answered, faltering between -surprise and alarm at my sudden onslaught. 'Here, she should be. I left -her here not an hour ago. Mon Dieu! Is she not here now?' - -His alarm increased mine tenfold. 'No!' I retorted, 'she is not! She is -gone! And you--what business had you, in the fiend's name, to leave her -here, alone and unprotected? Tell me that!' - -He leaned against the balustrade, making no attempt to defend himself, -and seemed, in his sudden terror, anything but the bold, alert fellow -who had ascended the stairs two minutes before. 'I was a fool,' he -groaned. 'I saw your man Simon here; and Fanchette, who is as good as a -man, was with her mistress. And I went to stable the horses. I thought -no evil. And now--My God!' he added, suddenly straightening himself, -while his face grew hard and grim, 'I am undone! My master will never -forgive me!' - -'Did you come straight here?' I said, considering that, after all, he -was no more in fault than I had been on a former occasion. - -'We went first to M. de Rosny's lodging,' he answered, 'where we found -your message telling us to come here. We came on without dismounting.' - -'Mademoiselle may have gone back, and be there,' I said. 'It is -possible. Do you stay here and keep a good look-out, and I will go and -see. Let one of your men come with me.' - -He uttered a brief assent; being a man as ready to take as to give -orders, and thankful now for any suggestion which held out a hope of -mademoiselle's safety. Followed by the servant he selected, I ran down -the stairs, and in a moment was hurrying along the Rue St. Denys. The -day was waning. The narrow streets and alleys were already dark, but the -air of excitement which I had noticed in the morning still marked the -townsfolk, of whom a great number were strolling abroad, or standing -in doorways talking to their gossips. Feverishly anxious as I was, I -remarked the gloom which dwelt on all faces; but as I set it down to -the king's approaching departure, and besides was intent on seeing that -those we sought did not by any chance pass us in the crowd, I thought -little of it. Five minutes' walking brought us to M. de Rosny's lodging. -There I knocked at the door; impatiently, I confess, and with little -hope of success. But, to my surprise, barely an instant elapsed before -the door opened, and I saw before me Simon Fleix! - -Discovering who it was, he cowered back, with a terrified face, and -retreated to the wall with his arm raised. - -'You scoundrel!' I exclaimed, restraining myself with difficulty. 'Tell -me this moment where Mademoiselle de la Vire is! Or, by Heaven, I shall -forget what my mother owed to you, and do you a mischief!' - -For an instant he glared at me viciously, with all his teeth exposed, as -though he meant to refuse--and more. Then he thought better of it, and, -raising his hand, pointed sulkily upwards. - -'Go before me and knock at the door,' I said, tapping the hilt of my -dagger with meaning. - -Cowed by my manner, he obeyed, and led the way to the room in which M. -de Rambouillet had surprised us on a former occasion. Here he stopped -at the door and knocked gently; on which a sharp voice inside bade us -enter. I raised the latch and did so, closing the door behind me. - -Mademoiselle, still wearing her riding-coat, sat in a chair before the -hearth, on which a newly kindled fire sputtered and smoked. She had her -back to me, and did not turn on my entrance, but continued to toy in -an absent manner with the strings of the mask which lay in her lap. -Fanchette stood bolt upright behind her, with her elbows squared and -her hands clasped; in such an attitude that I guessed the maid had -been expressing her strong dissatisfaction with this latest whim of her -mistress, and particularly with mademoiselle's imprudence in wantonly -exposing herself, with so inadequate a guard as Simon, in a place where -she had already suffered so much. I was confirmed in this notion on -seeing the woman's harsh countenance clear at sight of me; though the -churlish nod, which was all the greeting she bestowed on me, seemed to -betoken anything but favour or good-will. She touched her mistress on -the shoulder, however, and said, 'M. de Marsac is here.' - -Mademoiselle turned her head and looked at me languidly, without -stirring in her chair or removing the foot she, was warming. 'Good -evening,' she said. - -The greeting seemed so brief and so commonplace, ignoring, as it did, -both the pains and anxiety to which she had just put me and the great -purpose for which we were here--to say nothing of that ambiguous parting -which she must surely remember as well as I--that the words I had -prepared died on my lips, and I looked at her in honest confusion. All -her small face was pale except her lips. Her brow was dark, her eyes -were hard as well as weary. And not words only failed me as I looked at -her, but anger; having mounted the stairs hot foot to chide, I felt on a -sudden--despite my new cloak and scabbard, my appointment, and the same -I had made at Court--the same consciousness of age; and shabbiness and -poverty which had possessed me in her presence from the beginning. I -muttered, 'Good evening, mademoiselle,' and that was all I could say--I -who had frightened the burly Maignan a few minutes before! - -Seeing, I have no doubt, the effect she produced on me, she maintained -for some time an embarrassing silence. At length she said, frigidly, -'Perhaps M. de Marsac will sit, Fanchette. Place a chair for him. I -am afraid, however, that after his successes at Court he may find our -reception somewhat cold. But we are only from the country,' she added, -looking at me askance, with a gleam of anger in her eyes. - -I thanked her huskily, saying that I would not sit, as I could not stay. -'Simon Fleix,' I continued, finding my voice with difficulty, 'has, I am -afraid, caused you some trouble by bringing you to this house instead of -telling you that I had made preparation for you at my lodgings.' - -'It was not Simon Fleix's fault,' she replied curtly. 'I prefer these -rooms. They are more convenient.' - -'They are, perhaps, more convenient,' I rejoined humbly, 'But I have -to think of safety, mademoiselle, as you know. At my house I have a -competent guard, and can answer for your being unmolested.' - -'You can send your guard here,' she said with a royal air. - -'But, mademoiselle--' - -'Is it not enough that I have said that I prefer these rooms?' she -replied sharply, dropping her mask on her lap and looking round at me in -undisguised displeasure. 'Are you deaf, sir? Let me tell you, I am in -no mood for argument. I am tired with riding. I prefer these rooms, and -that is enough!' - -Nothing could exceed the determination with which she said these words, -unless it were the malicious pleasure in thwarting my wishes which made -itself seen through the veil of assumed indifference. I felt myself -brought up with a vengeance, and in a manner the most provoking that -could be conceived. But opposition so childish, so utterly wanton, -by exciting my indignation, had presently the effect of banishing the -peculiar bashfulness I felt in her presence, and recalling me to my -duty. - -'Mademoiselle,' I said firmly, looking at her with a fixed countenance, -'pardon me if I speak plainly. This is no time for playing with straws. -The men from whom you escaped once are as determined and more desperate -now. By this time they probably know of your arrival. Do, then, as I -ask, I pray and beseech you. Or this time I may lack the power, though -never the will, to save you.' - -Wholly ignoring my appeal, she looked into my face--for by this time I -had advanced to her side--with a whimsical smile. 'You are really much -improved in manner since I last saw you,' she said. - -'Mademoiselle!' I replied, baffled and repelled. 'What do you mean?' - -'What I say,' she answered, flippantly. 'But it was to be expected.' - -'For shame!' I cried, provoked almost beyond bearing by her ill-timed -raillery, 'will you never be serious until you have ruined us and -yourself? I tell you this house is not safe for you! It is not safe for -me! I cannot bring my men to it, for there is not room for them. If you -have any spark of consideration, of gratitude, therefore--' - -'Gratitude!' she exclaimed, swinging her mask slowly to and fro by a -ribbon, while she looked up at me as though my excitement amused her. -'Gratitude--'tis a very pretty phrase, and means much; but it is for -those who serve us faithfully, M. de Marsac, and not for others. You -receive so many favours, I am told, and are so successful at Court, that -I should not be justified in monopolising your services.' - -'But, mademoiselle--' I said in a low tone. And there I stopped. I dared -not proceed. - -'Well, sir,' she answered, looking up at she after a moment's silence, -and ceasing on a sudden to play with her toy, 'what is it?' - -'You spoke of favours,' I continued, with an effort. 'I never received -but one from a lady. That was at Rosny, and from your hand.' - -'From my hand?' she answered, with an air of cold surprise. - -'It was so, mademoiselle.' - -'You have fallen into some strange mistake, sir,' she replied, rousing -herself, and looking at me indifferently 'I never gave you a favour.' - -I bowed low. 'If you say you did not, mademoiselle, that is enough,' I -answered. - -'Nay, but do not let me do you an injustice, M. de Marsac,' she -rejoined, speaking more quickly and in an altered tone. 'If you can show -me the favour I gave you, I shall, of course, be convinced. Seeing -is believing, you know,' she added, with a light nervous laugh, and a -gesture of something like shyness. - -If I had not sufficiently regretted my carelessness, and loss of the bow -at the time, I did so now. I looked at her in silence, and saw her face, -that had for a moment shown signs of feeling, almost of shame, grow -slowly hard again. - -'Well, sir?' she said impatiently. 'The proof is easy.' - -'It was taken from me; I believe, by M. de Rosny,' I answered lamely, -wondering what ill-luck had led her to put the question and press it to -this point. - -'It was taken from you!' she exclaimed, rising and confronting me with -the utmost suddenness, while her eyes flashed, and her little hand -crumpled the mask beyond future usefulness. 'It was taken from you, -sir!' she repeated, her voice and her whole frame trembling with -anger and disdain. 'Then I thank you, I prefer my version. Yours is -impossible. For let me tell you, when Mademoiselle de la Vire does -confer a favour, it will be on a man with the power and the wit--and the -constancy, to keep it, even from M. de Rosny!' - -Her scorn hurt, though it did not anger me. I felt it to be in a measure -deserved, and raged against myself rather than against her. But aware -through all of the supreme importance of placing her in safety, I -subjected my immediate feelings to the exigencies of the moment and -stooped to an argument which would, I thought, have weight though -private pleading failed. - -'Putting myself aside, mademoiselle,' I said, with more formality than I -had yet used, 'there is one consideration which must weigh with you. The -king--' - -'The king!' she cried, interrupting me violently, her face hot with -passion and her whole person instinct with stubborn self-will. 'I shall -not see the king!' - -'You will not see the king?' I repeated in amazement. - -'No, I will not!' she answered, in a whirl of anger, scorn, and -impetuosity. 'There! I will not! I have been made a toy and a tool long -enough, M. de Marsac,' she continued, 'and I will serve others' ends no -more. I have made up my mind. Do not talk to me; you will do no good, -sir. I would to Heaven,' she added bitterly, 'I had stayed at Chize and -never seen this place!' - -'But, mademoiselle,' I said, 'you have not thought--' - -'Thought!' she exclaimed, shutting her small white teeth so viciously -I all but recoiled. 'I have thought enough. I am sick of thought. I am -going to act now. I will be a puppet no longer. You may take me to the -castle by force if you will; but you cannot make me speak.' - -I looked at her in the utmost dismay, and astonishment; being unable at -first to believe that a woman who had gone through so much, had run so -many risks, and ridden so many miles for a purpose, would, when all -was done and the hour come, decline to carry out her plan. I could -not believe it, I say, at first; and I tried arguments, and entreaties -without stint, thinking that she only asked to be entreated or coaxed. - -But I found prayers and even threats breath wasted upon her; and beyond -these I would not go. I know I have been blamed by some and ridiculed by -others for not pushing the matter farther; but those who have stood face -to face with a woman of spirit--a woman whose very frailty and weakness -fought for her--will better understand the difficulties with which I had -to contend and the manner in which conviction was at last borne in on -my mind. I had never before confronted stubbornness of this kind. As -mademoiselle said again and again, I might force her to Court, but I -could not make her speak. - -When I had tried every means of persuasion, and still found no way of -overcoming her resolution the while Fanchette looked on with a face of -wood, neither aiding me nor taking part against me--I lost, I confess, -in the chagrin of the moment that sense of duty which had hitherto -animated me; and though my relation to mademoiselle should have made me -as careful as ever of her safety, even in her own despite, I left her -at last in anger and went out without saying another word about removing -her--a thing which was still in my power. I believe a very brief -reflection would have recalled me to myself and my duty; but the -opportunity was not given me, for I had scarcely reached the head of the -stairs before Fanchette came after me, and called to me in a whisper to -stop. - -She held a taper in her hand, and this she raised to my face, smiling at -the disorder which she doubtless read there. 'Do you say that this house -is not safe?' she asked abruptly, lowering the light as she spoke. - -'You have tried a house in Blois before?' I replied with the same -bluntness. 'You should know as well as I, woman.' - -'She must be taken from here, then,' she answered, nodding her head, -cunningly. 'I can persuade her. Do you send for your people, and be here -in half an hour. It may take me that time to wheedle her. But I shall do -it.' - -'Then listen,' I said eagerly, seizing the opportunity and her sleeve -and drawing her farther from the door. 'If you can persuade her to that, -you can persuade to all I wish. Listen, my friend,' I continued, sinking -my voice still lower. 'If she will see the king for only ten minutes, -and tell him what she knows, I will give you--' - -'What?' the woman asked suddenly and harshly, drawing at the same time -her sleeve from my hand. - -'Fifty crowns,' I replied, naming in my desperation a sum which would -seem a fortune to a person in her position. 'Fifty crowns down, the -moment the interview is over.' - -'And for that you would have me sell her!' the woman cried with a rude -intensity of passion which struck me like a blow. 'For shame! For -shame, man! You persuaded her to leave her home and her friends, and the -country where she was known; and now you would have me sell her! Shame -on you! Go!' she added scornfully. 'Go this instant and get your men. -The king, say you? The king! I tell you I would not have her finger ache -to save all your kings!' - -She flounced away with that, and I retired crestfallen; wondering much -at the fidelity which Providence, doubtless for the well-being of the -gentle, possibly for the good of all, has implanted in the humble. -Finding Simon, to whom I had scarce patience to speak, waiting on the -stairs below, I despatched him to Maignan, to bid him come to me with -his men. Meanwhile I watched the house myself until their arrival, -and then, going up, found that Fanchette had been as good as her word. -Mademoiselle, with a sullen mien, and a red spot on either cheek, -consented to descend, and, preceded by a couple of links, which Maignan -had thoughtfully provided, was escorted safely to my lodgings; where I -bestowed her in the rooms below my own, which I had designed for her. - -At the door she turned and bowed to me, her face on fire. - -'So far, sir, you have got your way,' she said, breathing quickly. 'Do -not flatter yourself, however, that you will get it farther--even by -bribing my woman!' - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAST VALOIS. - -I stood for a few moments on the stairs, wondering what I should do in -an emergency to which the Marquis's message of the afternoon attached so -pressing a character. Had it not been for that I might have waited until -morning, and felt tolerably certain of finding mademoiselle in a more -reasonable mood then. But as it was I dared not wait. I dared not risk -the delay, and I came quickly to the conclusion that the only course -open to me was to go at once to M. de Rambouillet and tell him frankly -how the matter stood. - -Maignan had posted one of his men at the open doorway leading into the -street, and fixed his own quarters on the landing at the top, whence he -could overlook an intruder without being seen himself. Satisfied with -the arrangement, I left Rambouillet's man to reinforce him, and took -with me Simon Fleix, of whose conduct in regard to mademoiselle I -entertained the gravest doubts. - -The night, I found on reaching the street, was cold, the sky where it -was visible between the eaves being bright with stars. A sharp wind was -blowing, too, compelling us to wrap our cloaks round us and hurry on -at a pace which agreed well with the excitement of my thoughts. Assured -that had mademoiselle been complaisant I might have seen my mission -accomplished within the hour, it was impossible I should not feel -impatient with one who, to gratify a whim, played with the secrets of a -kingdom as if they were counters, and risked in passing ill-humour the -results of weeks of preparation. And I was impatient, and with her. But -my resentment fell so far short of the occasion that I wondered uneasily -at my own easiness, and felt more annoyed with myself for failing to be -properly annoyed with her, than inclined to lay the blame where it was -due. It was in vain I told myself contemptuously that she was a woman -and that women were not accountable. I felt that the real secret and -motive of my indulgence lay, not in this, but in the suspicion, which -her reference to the favour given me on my departure from Rosny had -converted almost into a certainty, that I was myself the cause of her -sudden ill-humour. - -I might have followed this train of thought farther, and to very -pertinent conclusions. But on reaching M. de Rambouillet's lodging I -was diverted from it by the abnormally quiet aspect of the house, on the -steps of which half a dozen servants might commonly be seen lounging. -Now the doors were closed, no lights shone through the windows, and the -hall sounded empty and desolate when I knocked. Not a lackey hurried to -receive me even then; but the slipshod tread of the old porter, as he -came with a lantern to open, alone broke the silence. I waited eagerly -wondering what all this could mean; and when the man at last opened, -and, recognising my face, begged my pardon if he had kept me waiting I -asked him impatiently what was the matter. - -'And where is the Marquis?' I added, stepping inside to be out of the -wind, and loosening my cloak. - -'Have you not heard, sir?' the man asked, holding up his lantern to my -face. He was an old, wizened, lean fellow. 'It is a break-up, sir, I am -afraid, this time.' - -'A break-up?' I rejoined, peevishly. 'Speak out, man! What is the -matter? I hate mysteries.' - -You have not heard the news, sir? That the Duke of Mercoeur and Marshal -Retz, with all their people, left Blois this afternoon?' - -'No?' I answered, somewhat startled. 'Whither are they gone?' - -'To Paris, it is said, sir,--to join the League.' - -'But do you mean that they have deserted the king?' I asked. - -'For certain, sir!' he answered. - -'Not the Duke of Mercoeur?' I exclaimed. 'Why, man, he is the king's -brother-in-law. He owes everything to him.' - -'Well, he is gone, sir,' the old man answered positively. 'The news was -brought to M. le Marquis about four o'clock, or a little after. He got -his people together, and started after them to try and persuade them to -return. Or, so it is said.' - -As quickly as I could, I reviewed the situation in my mind. If this -strange news were true, and men like Mercoeur, who had every reason to -stand by the king, as well as men like Retz, who had long been suspected -of disaffection, were abandoning the Court, the danger must be coming -close indeed. The king must feel his throne already tottering, and be -eager to grasp at any means of supporting it. Under such circumstances -it seemed to be my paramount duty to reach him; to gain his ear if -possible, and at all risks; that I and not Bruhl, Navarre not Turenne, -might profit by the first impulse of self-preservation. - -Bidding the porter shut his door and keep close, I hurried to the -Castle, and was presently more than confirmed in my resolution. For -to my surprise I found the Court in much the same state as M. de -Rambouillet's house. There were double guards indeed at the gates, who -let me pass after scrutinising me narrowly; but the courtyard, which -should have been at this hour ablaze with torches and crowded with -lackeys and grooms, was a dark wilderness, in which half a dozen links -trembled mournfully. Passing through the doors I found things within in -the same state: the hall ill lit and desolate; the staircase manned -only by a few whispering groups, who scanned me as I passed; the -ante-chambers almost empty, or occupied by the grey uniforms of the -Switzer guards. Where I had looked, to see courtiers assembling to meet -their sovereign and assure him of their fidelity, I found only gloomy -faces, watchful eyes, and mouths ominously closed. An air of constraint -and foreboding rested on all. A single footstep sounded hollowly. The -long corridors, which had so lately rung with laughter and the rattle -of dice, seemed already devoted to the silence, and desolation which -awaited them when the Court should depart. Where any spoke I caught the -name of Guise; and I could have fancied that his mighty shadow lay upon -the place and cursed it. - -Entering the chamber, I found matters little better there. His Majesty -was not present, nor were any of the Court ladies; but half a dozen -gentlemen, among whom I recognised Revol, one of the King's secretaries, -stood near the alcove. They looked up on my entrance, as though -expecting news, and then, seeing who it was, looked away again -impatiently. The Duke of Nevers was walking moodily to and fro before -one of the windows, his hands clasped behind his back: while Biron and -Crillon, reconciled by the common peril, talked loudly on the hearth. I -hesitated a moment, uncertain how to proceed, for I was not yet so old -at Court as to feel at home there. But, at last making up my mind, I -walked boldly up to Crillon and requested his good offices to procure me -an immediate audience of the king. - -'An audience? Do you mean you want to see him alone?' he said, raising -his eyebrows and looking whimsically at Biron. - -'That is my petition, M. de Crillon,' I answered firmly, though my heart -sank. 'I am here on M. de Rambouillet's business, and I need to see his -Majesty forthwith.' - -'Well, that is straightforward,' he replied, clapping me on the -shoulder. 'And you shall see him. In coming to Crillon you have come -to the right man. Revol,' he continued, turning to the secretary, 'this -gentleman bears a message from M. de Rambouillet to the king. Take him -to the closet without delay, my friend, and announce him. I will be -answerable for him.' - -But the secretary shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. 'It is quite -impossible, M. de Crillon,' he said gravely. 'Quite impossible at -present.' - -'Impossible! Chut! I do not know the word,' Crillon retorted rudely. -'Come, take him at once, and blame me if ill comes of it. Do you hear?' - -'But his Majesty--' - -'Well?' - -'Is at his devotions,' the secretary said stiffly. - -'His Majesty's devotions be hanged!' Crillon rejoined--so loudly that -there was a general titter, and M. de Nevers laughed grimly. 'Do you -hear?' the Avennais continued, his face growing redder and his voice -higher, 'or must I pull your ears, my friend? Take this gentleman to the -closet, I say, and if his Majesty be angry, tell him it was by my order. -I tell you he comes from Rambouillet.' - -I do not know whether it was the threat, or the mention of M. de -Rambouillet's name, which convinced the secretary. But at any rate, -after a moment's hesitation, he acquiesced. - -He nodded sullenly to me to follow him, and led the way to a curtain -which masked the door of the closet. I followed him across the chamber, -after muttering a hasty word of acknowledgment to Crillon; and I had as -nearly as possible reached the door when the bustle of some one entering -the chamber caught my ear. I had just time to turn and see that this -was Bruhl, just time to intercept the dark look of chagrin and surprise -which he fixed on me, and then Revol, holding up the curtain, signed to -me to enter. - -I expected to pass at once into the presence of the king, and had my -reverence ready. Instead, I found myself to my surprise in a small -chamber, or rather passage, curtained at both ends, and occupied by a -couple of guardsmen--members, doubtless, of the Band of the Forty-Five -who rose at my entrance and looked at me dubiously. Their guard-room, -dimly illumined by a lamp of red glass, seemed to me, in spite of its -curtains and velvet bench, and the thick tapestry which kept out every -breath of wholesome air, the most sombre I could imagine. And the most -ill-omened. But I had no time to make any long observation; for Revol, -passing me brusquely, raised the curtain at the other end, and, with his -finger on his lip, bade me by signs to enter. - -I did so as silently, the heavy scent of perfumes striking me in the -face as I raised a second curtain, and stopped short a pace beyond -it; partly in reverence--because kings love their subjects best at a -distance--and partly in surprise. For the room, or rather that portion -of it in which I stood, was in darkness; only the farther end being -illumined by a cold pale flood of moonlight, which, passing through -a high, straight window, lay in a silvery sheet on the floor. For an -instant I thought I was alone; then I saw, resting against this window, -with a hand on either mullion, a tall figure, having something strange -about the head. This peculiarity presently resolved itself into the -turban in which I had once before seen his Majesty. The king--for he it -was--was talking to himself. He had not heard me enter, and having his -back to me remained unconscious of my presence. - -I paused in doubt, afraid to advance, anxious to withdraw; yet uncertain -whether I could move again unheard. At this moment while I stood -hesitating, he raised his voice, and his words, reaching my ears, -riveted my attention, so strange and eerie were both they and his tone. -'They say there is ill-luck in thirteen,' he muttered. 'Thirteen -Valois and last!' He paused to laugh a wicked, mirthless laugh. -'Ay,--Thirteenth! And it is thirteen years since I entered Paris, a -crowned King! There were Quelus and Maugiron and St. Megrin and I--and -he, I remember. Ah, those days, those nights! I would sell my soul to -live them again; had I not sold it long ago in the living them once! We -were young then, and rich, and I was king; and Quelus was an Apollo! He -died calling on me to save him. And Maugiron died, blaspheming God and -the saints. And St. Megrin, he had thirty-four wounds. And he--he is -dead too, curse him! They are all dead, all dead, and it is all over! My -God! it is all over, it is all over, it is all over!' - -He repeated the last four words more than a dozen times, rocking himself -to and fro by his hold on the mullions. I trembled as I listened, partly -through fear on my own account should I be discovered, and partly -by reason of the horror of despair and remorse--no, not remorse, -regret--which spoke in his monotonous voice. I guessed that some impulse -had led him to draw the curtain from the window and shade the lamp; -and that then, as he looked down on the moonlit country, the contrast -between it and the vicious, heated atmosphere, heavy with intrigue and -worse, in which he had spent his strength, had forced itself upon his -mind. For he presently went on. - -'France! There it lies! And what will they do with it? Will they cut it -up into pieces, as it was before old Louis XI? Will Mercoeur--curse him! -be the most Christian Duke of Brittany? And Mayenne, by the grace of -God, Prince of Paris and the Upper Seine? Or will the little Prince of -Bearn beat them, and be Henry IV., King of France and Navarre, Protector -of the Churches? Curse him too! He is thirty-six. He is my age. But he -is young and strong, and has all before him. While I--I--oh, my God, -have mercy on me! Have mercy on me, O God in Heaven!' - -With the last word he fell on his knees on the step before the window, -and burst into such an agony of unmanly tears and sobbings as I had -never dreamed of or imagined, and least of all in the King of France. -Hardly knowing whether to be more ashamed or terrified, I turned at all -risks, and stealthily lifting the curtain, crept out with infinite care; -and happily with so much good fortune as to escape detection. There was -space enough between the two curtains to admit my body and no more; and -here I stood a short while to collect my thoughts. Then, striking my -scabbard against the wall, as though by accident, and coughing loudly -at the same moment, I twitched the curtain aside with some violence and -re-entered, thinking that by these means I had given him warning enough. - -But I had not reckoned on the darkness in which the room lay, or the -excitable state in which I had left him. He heard me, indeed, but being -able to see only a tall, indistinct figure approaching him, he took -fright, and falling back against the moonlit window, as though he saw -a ghost, thrust out his hand, gasping at the same time two words, which -sounded to me like 'Ha! Guise!' - -The next instant, discerning that I fell on my knee where I stood, -and came no nearer, he recovered himself with an effort, which his -breathing made very apparent, he asked in an unsteady voice who it was. - -'One of your Majesty's most faithful servants,' I answered, remaining on -my knee, and affecting to see nothing. - -Keeping his face towards me, he sidled to the lamp and strove to -withdraw the shade. But his fingers trembled so violently that it was -some time before he succeeded, and set free the cheerful beams, which, -suddenly filling the room with radiance, disclosed to my wondering -eyes, instead of darkness and the cold gleam of the moon, a profusion -of riches, of red stuffs and gemmed trifles and gilded arms crowded -together in reckless disorder. A monkey chained in one corner began -to gibber and mow at me. A cloak of strange cut, stretched on a wooden -stand, deceived me for an instant into thinking that there was a third -person present; while the table, heaped with dolls and powder-puff's, -dog-collars and sweet-meats, a mask, a woman's slipper, a pair of -pistols, some potions, a scourge, and an immense quantity of like -litter, had as melancholy an appearance in my eyes as the king himself, -whose disorder the light disclosed without mercy. His turban was awry, -and betrayed the premature baldness of his scalp. The paint on his -cheeks was cracked and stained, and had soiled the gloves he wore. He -looked fifty years old; and in his excitement he had tugged his sword to -the front, whence it refused to be thrust back. - -'Who sent you here?' he asked, when he had so far recovered his senses -as to recognise me, which he did with great surprise. - -'I am here, sire,' I answered evasively, 'to place myself at your -Majesty's service.' - -'Such loyalty is rare,' he answered, with a bitter sneer. 'But stand -up, sir. I suppose I must be thankful for small mercies, and, losing a -Mercoeur, be glad to receive a Marsac.' - -'By your leave, sire,' I rejoined hardily, 'the exchange is not so -adverse. Your Majesty may make another duke when you will. But honest -men are not so easily come by.' - -'So! so!' he answered, looking at me with a fierce light in his eyes. -'You remind me in season, I may still make and unmake! I am still King -of France? That is so sirrah, is it not?' - -'God forbid that it should be otherwise!' I answered earnestly. 'It is -to lay before your Majesty certain means by which you may give fuller -effect to your wishes that I am here. The King of Navarre desires only, -sire--' - -'Tut, tut!' he exclaimed impatiently, and with some displeasure, 'I know -his will better than you, man. But you see,' he continued cunningly, -forgetting my inferior position as quickly as he had remembered it, -'Turenne promises well, too. And Turenne--it is true he may play the -Lorrainer. But if I trust Henry of Navarre, and he prove false to me--' - -He did not complete the sentence, but strode to and fro a time or two, -his mind, which had a natural inclination towards crooked courses, bent -on some scheme by which he might play off the one party against the -other. Apparently he was not very successful in finding one, however; -or else the ill-luck with which he had supported the League against the -Huguenots recurred to his mind. For he presently stopped, with a sigh, -and came back to the point. - -'If I knew that Turenne were lying,' be muttered, 'then indeed--. But -Rosny promised evidence, and he has sent me none.' - -'It is at hand, sire,' I answered, my heart beginning to beat, 'Your -Majesty will remember that M. de Rosny honoured me with the task of -introducing it to you.' - -'To be sure,' he replied, awaking as from a dream, and looking and -speaking eagerly. Matters to-day have driven everything out of my head. -Where is your witness, man? Convince me, and we will act promptly. We -will give them Jarnac and Moncontour over again. Is he outside?' - -'It is a woman, sire,' I made answer, dashed somewhat by his sudden and -feverish alacrity. - -'A woman, eh? You have her here?' - -'No, sire,' I replied, wondering what he would say to my next piece -of information. 'She is in Blois, she has arrived, but the truth is--I -humbly crave your Majesty's indulgence--she refuses to come or speak. -I cannot well bring her here by force, and I have sought you, sire, for -the purpose of taking your commands in the matter.' - -He stared at me in the utmost astonishment. - -'Is she young?' he asked after a long pause. - -'Yes, sire,' I answered. 'She is maid of honour to the Princess of -Navarre, and a ward also of the Vicomte de Turenne.' - -'Gad! then she is worth hearing, the little rebel!' he replied. 'A ward -Of Turenne's is she? Ho! ho! And now she will not speak? My cousin -of Navarre now would know how to bring her to her senses, but I have -eschewed these vanities. I might send and have her brought, it is true; -but a very little thing would cause a barricade to-night.' - -'And besides, sire,' I ventured to add, 'she is known to Turenne's -people here, who have once stolen her away. Were she brought to your -Majesty with any degree of openness, they would learn it, and know that -the game was lost.' - -'Which would not suit me,' he answered, nodding and looking at me -gloomily. 'They might anticipate our Jarnac; and until we have settled -matters with one or the other our person is not too secure. You must go -and fetch her. She is at your lodging. She must be brought, man.' - -'I will do what you command, sire,' I answered. 'But I am greatly afraid -that she will not come.' - -He lost his temper at that. 'Then why, in the devil's name, have -you troubled me with the matter?' he cried savagely. 'God knows--I -don't--why Rosny employed such a man and such a woman. He might have -seen from the cut of your cloak, sir, which is full six months behind -the fashion, that you could not manage a woman! Was ever such damnable -folly heard of in this world? But it is Navarre's loss, not mine. It is -his loss. And I hope to Heaven it may be yours too!' he added fiercely. - -There was so much in what he said that I bent before the storm, and -accepted with humility blame which was as natural on his part as it was -undeserved on mine. Indeed I could not wonder at his Majesty's anger; -nor should I have wondered at it in a greater man. I knew that but for -reasons, on which I did not wish to dwell, I should have shared it to -the full, and spoken quite as strongly of the caprice which ruined hopes -and lives for a whim. - -The king continued for some time to say to me all the hard things he -could think of. Wearied at last by my patience, he paused, and cried -angrily. 'Well, have you nothing; to say for yourself? Can you suggest -nothing?' - -'I dare not mention to your Majesty,' I said humbly, 'what seems to me -to be the only alternative.' - -'You mean that I should go to the wench!' he answered--for he did not -lack quickness. '"SE NON VA EL OTERO A MAHOMA, VAYA MAHOMA AL OTERO," as -Mendoza says. But the saucy quean, to force me to go to her! Did my wife -guess--but there, I will go. By God I will go!' he added abruptly and -fiercely. 'I will live to ruin Retz yet! Where is your lodging?' - -I told him, wondering much at this flash of the old spirit, which twenty -years before had won him a reputation his later life did nothing to -sustain. - -'Do you know,' he asked, speaking with sustained energy and clearness, -'the door by which M. de Rosny entered to talk with me? Can you find it -in the dark?' - -'Yes, sire,' I answered, my heart beating high. - -'Then be in waiting there two hours before midnight,' he replied. 'Be -well armed, but alone. I shall know how to make the girl speak. I can -trust you, I suppose?' he added suddenly, stepping nearer to me and -looking fixedly into my eyes. - -'I will answer for your Majesty's life with my own,' I replied, sinking -on one knee. - -'I believe you, sir,' he answered gravely, giving me his hand to kiss, -and then turning away. 'So be it. Now leave me. You have been here too -long already. Not a word to any one as you value your life.' - -I made fitting answer and was leaving him; but when I had my head -already on the curtain, he called me back. 'In Heaven's name get a new -cloak!' he said peevishly, eyeing me all over with his face puckered up. -'Get a new cloak, man, the first thing in the morning. It is worse seen -from the side than the front. It would ruin the cleverest courtier of -them all!' - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. A ROYAL PERIL. - -The elation with which I had heard the king announce his resolution -quickly diminished on cooler reflection. It stood in particular at a -very low ebb as I waited, an hour later, at the little north postern of -the Castle, and, cowering within the shelter of the arch to escape the -wind, debated whether his Majesty's energy would sustain him to the -point of action, or whether he might not, in one of those fits of -treacherous vacillation which had again and again marred his plans, send -those to keep the appointment who would give a final account of me. -The longer I considered his character the more dubious I grew. The -loneliness of the situation, the darkness, the black front, unbroken by -any glimmer of light, which the Castle presented on this side, and the -unusual and gloomy stillness which lay upon the town, all contributed to -increase my uneasiness. It was with apprehension as well as relief that -I caught at last the sound of footsteps on the stone staircase, and, -standing a little to one side, saw a streak of light appear at the foot -of the door. - -On the latter being partially opened a voice cried my name. I advanced -with caution and showed myself. A brief conversation ensued between -two or three persons who stood within; but in the end, a masked figure, -which I had no difficulty in identifying as the king, stepped briskly -out. - -'You are armed?' he said, pausing a second opposite me. - -I put back my cloak and showed him, by the light which streamed from the -doorway, that I carried pistols as well as a sword. - -'Good!' he answered briefly; 'then let us go. Do you walk on my left -hand, my friend. It is a dark night, is it not?' - -'Very dark, sire,' I said. - -He made no answer to this, and we started, proceeding with caution until -we had crossed the narrow bridge, and then with greater freedom and at -a better pace. The slenderness of the attendance at Court that evening, -and the cold wind, which swept even the narrowest streets and drove -roisterers indoors, rendered it unlikely that we should be stopped or -molested by any except professed thieves; and for these I was prepared. -The king showed no inclination to talk; and keeping silence myself out -of respect, I had time to calculate the chances and to consider whether -his Majesty would succeed where I had failed. - -This calculation, which was not inconsistent with the keenest -watchfulness on my part whenever we turned a corner or passed the mouth -of an alley, was brought to an end by our safe arrival at the house. -Briefly apologising to the king for the meanness and darkness of the -staircase, I begged leave to precede him, and rapidly mounted until I -met Maignan. Whispering to him that all was well, I did not wait to hear -his answer, but, bidding him be on the watch, I led the king on with -as much deference as was possible until we stood at the door of -mademoiselle's apartment, which I have elsewhere stated to consist of -an outer and inner room. The door was opened by Simon Fleix, and him -I promptly sent out. Then, standing aside and uncovering, I begged the -king to enter. - -He did so, still wearing his hat and mask, and I followed and secured -the door. A lamp hanging from the ceiling diffused an imperfect light -through the room, which was smaller but more comfortable in appearance -than that which I rented overhead. I observed that Fanchette, whose -harsh countenance looked more forbidding than usual, occupied a stool -which she had set in a strange fashion against the Inner door; but I -thought no more of this at the moment, my attention passing quickly to -mademoiselle, who sat crouching before the fire, enveloped in a large -outdoor cloak, as if she felt the cold. Her back was towards us, and she -was, or pretended to be, still ignorant of our presence. With a muttered -word I pointed her out to the king, and went towards her with him. - -'Mademoiselle, I said in a low voice, 'Mademoiselle de la Vire! I have -the honour--' - -She would not turn, and I stopped. Clearly she heard, but she betrayed -that she did so only by drawing her cloak more closely round her. Primed -by my respect for the king, I touched her lightly on the shoulder. -'Mademoiselle!' I said impatiently, 'you are not aware of it, but--' - -She shook herself free from my hand with so rude a gesture that I broke -off, and stood gazing foolishly at her. The king smiled, and nodding -to me to step back a pace, took the task on himself. 'Mademoiselle,' he -said with dignity, 'I am not accustomed--' - -His voice had a magical effect. Before he could add another word she -sprang up as if she had been struck, and faced us, a cry of alarm on her -lips. Simultaneously we both cried out too, for it was not mademoiselle -at all. The woman who confronted us, her hand on her mask, her eyes -glittering through the slits, was of a taller and fuller figure. We -stared at her. Then a lock of bright golden hair which had escaped from -the hood of her cloak gave us the clue. 'Madame!' the king cried. - -'Madame de Bruhl!' I echoed, my astonishment greater than his. - -Seeing herself known, she began with trembling fingers to undo the -fastenings of her mask; but the king, who had hitherto displayed a -trustfulness I had not expected in him, had taken alarm at sight of her, -as at a thing unlooked for, and of which I had not warned him. 'How is -this?' he said harshly, drawing back a pace from her and regarding me -with anger and distrust. 'Is this some pretty arrangement of yours, sir? -Am I an intruder at an assignation, or is this a trap with M. de Bruhl -in the background? Answer, sirrah!' he continued, working himself -rapidly into a passion. 'Which am I to understand is the case?' - -'Neither, sire,' I answered with as much dignity as I could assume, -utterly surprised and mystified as I was by Madame's presence. 'Your -Majesty wrongs Madame de Bruhl as much by the one suspicion as you -injure me by the other. I am equally in the dark with you, sire, and as -little expected to see madame here.' - -'I came, sire,' she said proudly, addressing herself to the king, and -ignoring me, 'out of no love to M. de Marsac, but as any person bearing -a message to him might come. Nor can you, sire,' she added with spirit, -'feel half as much surprise at seeing me here, as I at seeing your -Majesty.' - -'I can believe that,' the king answered drily. 'I would you had not seen -me.' - -'The King of France is seen only when he chooses,' she replied, -curtseying to the ground. - -'Good,' he answered. 'Let it be so, and you will oblige the King of -France, madame. But enough,' he continued, turning from her to me; -'since this is not the lady I came to see, M. de Marsac, where is she?' - -'In the inner room, sire, I opine,' I said, advancing to Fanchette with -more misgiving at heart than my manner evinced. 'Your mistress is here, -is she not?' I continued, addressing the woman sharply. - -'Ay, and will not come out,' she rejoined, sturdily keeping her place. - -'Nonsense!' I said. 'Tell her--' - -'You may tell her what you please,' she replied, refusing to budge an -inch. 'She can hear.' - -'But, woman!' I cried impatiently, 'you do not understand. I MUST speak -with her. I must speak with her at once! On business of the highest -importance.' - -'As you please,' she said rudely, still keeping her seat. 'I have told -you you can speak.' - -Perhaps I felt as foolish on this occasion as ever in my life; and -surely never was man placed in a more ridiculous position. After -overcoming numberless obstacles, and escaping as many perils, I had -brought the king here, a feat beyond my highest hopes--only to be -baffled and defeated by a waiting-woman! I stood irresolute; witless and -confused; while the king waited half angry and half amused, and madame -kept her place by the entrance, to which she had retreated. - -I was delivered from my dilemma by the curiosity which is, -providentially perhaps, a part of woman's character, and which led -mademoiselle to interfere herself. Keenly on the watch inside, she had -heard part of what passed between us, and been rendered inquisitive by -the sound of a strange man's voice, and by the deference which she -could discern I paid to the visitor. At this moment, she cried out, -accordingly, to know who was there; and Fanchette, seeming to take this -as a command, rose and dragged her stool aside, saying peevishly and -without any increase of respect, 'There, I told you she could hear.' - -'Who is it?' mademoiselle asked again, in a raised voice. - -I was about to answer when the king signed to me to stand back, and, -advancing himself, knocked gently on the door. 'Open, I pray you, -mademoiselle,' he said courteously. - -'Who is there?' she cried again, her voice trembling. - -'It is I, the king,' he answered softly; but in that tone of majesty -which belongs not to the man, but to the descendant, and seems to be the -outcome of centuries of command. - -She uttered an exclamation and slowly, and with seeming reluctance, -turned the key in the lock. It grated, and the door opened. I caught a -glimpse for an instant of her pale face and bright eyes, and then his -Majesty, removing his hat, passed in and closed the door; and I withdrew -to the farther end of the room, where madame continued to stand by the -entrance. - -I entertained a suspicion, I remember, and not unnaturally, that she -had come to my lodging as her husband's spy; but her first words when I -joined her dispelled this. 'Quick!' she said with an imperious gesture. -'Hear me and let me go! I have waited long enough for you, and suffered -enough through you. As for that, woman in there, she is mad, and her -servant too! Now, listen to me. You spoke to me honestly to-day, and -I have come to repay you. You have an appointment with my husband -to-morrow at Chaverny. Is it not so?' she added impatiently. - -I replied that it was so. - -'You are to go with one friend,' she went on, tearing the glove she -had taken off, to strips in her excitement, 'He is to meet you with one -also?' - -'Yes,' I assented reluctantly, 'at the bridge, madame.' - -'Then do not go,' she rejoined emphatically. 'Shame on me that I should -betray my husband; but it were worse to send an innocent man to his -death. He will meet you with one sword only, according to his challenge, -but there will be those under the bridge who will make certain work. -There, I have betrayed him now!' she continued bitterly. 'It is done. -Let me go!' - -'Nay, but, madame,' I said, feeling more concerned for her, on whom from -the first moment of meeting her I had brought nothing but misfortune, -than surprised by this new treachery on his part, 'will you not run some -risk in returning to him? Is there nothing I can do for you--no step I -can take for your protection?' - -'None!' she said repellently and almost rudely, 'except to speed my -going.' - -'But you will not pass through the streets alone?' - -She laughed so bitterly my heart ached for her. 'The unhappy are always -safe,' she said. - -Remembering how short a time it was since I had surprised her in the -first happiness of wedded love, I felt for her all the pity it was -natural I should feel. But the responsibility under which his Majesty's -presence and the charge of mademoiselle laid me forbade me to indulge -in the luxury of evincing my gratitude. Gladly would I have escorted her -back to her home--even if I could not make that home again what it had -been, or restore her husband to the pinnacle from which I had dashed -him--but I dared not do this. I was forced to content myself with less, -and was about to offer to send one of my men with her, when a hurried -knocking at the outer door arrested the words on my lips. - -Signing to her to stand still, I listened. The knocking was repeated, -and grew each moment more urgent. There was a little grille, strongly -wired, in the upper part of the door, and this I was about to open in -order to learn what was amiss, when Simon's voice reached me from the -farther side imploring me to open the door quickly. Doubting the lad's -prudence, yet afraid to refuse lest I should lose some warning he had to -give, I paused a second, and then undid the fastenings. The moment the -door gave way he fell in bodily, crying out to me to bar it behind him. -I caught a glimpse through the gap of a glare as of torches, and saw -by this light half a dozen flushed faces in the act of rising above the -edge of the landing. The men who owned them raised a shout of triumph at -sight of me, and, clearing the upper steps at a bound, made a rush for -the door. But in vain. We had just time to close it and drop the two -stout bars. In a moment, in a second, the fierce outcry fell to a dull -roar; and safe for the time, we had leisure to look in one another's -faces and learn the different aspects of alarm. Madame was white to the -lips, while Simon's eyes seemed starting from his head, and he shook in -every limb with terror. - -At first, on my asking him what it meant, he could not speak. But that -would not do, and I was in the act of seizing him by the collar to force -an answer from him when the inner door opened, and the king came out, -his face wearing an air of so much cheerfulness as proved both his -satisfaction with mademoiselle's story and his ignorance of all we were -about. In a word he had not yet taken the least alarm; but seeing Simon -in my hands, and madame leaning against the wall by the door like one -deprived of life, he stood and cried out in surprise to know what it -was. - -'I fear we are besieged, sire,' I answered desperately, feeling my -anxieties increased a hundredfold by his appearance--'but by whom I -cannot say. This lad knows, however,' I continued, giving Simon, a -vicious shake, 'and he shall speak. Now, trembler,' I said to him, 'tell -your tale?' - -'The Provost-Marshal!' he stammered, terrified afresh by the king's -presence: for Henry had removed his mask. 'I was on guard below. I had -come up a few steps to be out of the cold, when I heard them enter. -There are a round score of them.' - -I cried out a great oath, asking him why he had not gone up and warned -Maignan, who with his men was now cut off from us in the rooms above. -'You fool!' I continued, almost beside myself with rage, 'if you had not -come to this door they would have mounted to my rooms and beset them! -What is this folly about the Provost-Marshal?' - -'He is there,' Simon answered, cowering away from me, his face working. - -I thought he was lying, and had merely fancied this in his fright. But -the assailants at this moment began to hail blows on the door, calling -on us to open, and using such volleys of threats as penetrated even the -thickness of the oak; driving the blood from the women's cheeks, and -arresting the king's step in a manner which did not escape me. Among -their cries I could plainly distinguish the words, 'In the king's name!' -which bore out Simon's statement. - -At the moment I drew comfort from this; for if we had merely to deal -with the law we had that on our side which was above it. And I speedily -made up my mind what to do. 'I think the lad speaks the truth, sire,' I -said coolly. 'This is only your Majesty's Provost-Marshal. The worst to -be feared, therefore, is that he may learn your presence here before -you would have it known. It should not be a matter of great difficulty, -however, to bind him to silence, and if you will please to mask, I will -open the grille and speak with him.' - -The king, who had taken his stand in the middle of the room, and seemed -dazed and confused by the suddenness of the alarm and the uproar, -assented with a brief word. Accordingly I was preparing to open the -grille when Madame de Bruhl seized my arm, and forcibly pushed me back -from it. - -'What would you do?' she cried, her face full of terror. 'Do you not -hear? He is there.' - -'Who is there?' I said, startled more by her manner than her words. - -'Who?' she answered; 'who should be there? My husband! I hear his voice, -I tell you! He has tracked me here! He has found me, and will kill me!' - -'God forbid!' I said, doubting if she had really heard his voice. To -make sure, I asked Simon if he had seen him; and my heart sank when I -heard from him too that Bruhl was of the party. For the first time I -became fully sensible of the danger which threatened us. For the first -time, looking round the ill-lit room on the women's terrified faces, -and the king's masked figure instinct with ill-repressed nervousness, I -recognised how hopelessly we were enmeshed. Fortune had served Bruhl so -well that, whether he knew it or not, he had us all trapped--alike -the king whom he desired to compromise, and his wife whom he hated, -mademoiselle who had once escaped him, and me who had twice thwarted -him. It was little to be wondered at if my courage sank as I looked from -one to another, and listened to the ominous creaking of the door, as the -stout panels complained under the blows rained upon them. For my first -duty, and that which took the PAS of all others, was to the king--to -save him harmless. How, then, was I to be answerable for mademoiselle, -how protect Madame de Bruhl?--how, in a word, redeem all those pledges -in which my honour was concerned? - -It was the thought of the Provost-Marshal which at this moment rallied -my failing spirits. I remembered that until the mystery of his presence -here in alliance with Bruhl was explained there was no need to despair; -and turning briskly to the king I begged him to favour me by standing -with the women in a corner which was not visible from the door. He -complied mechanically, and in a manner which I did not like; but lacking -time to weigh trifles, I turned to the grille and opened it without more -ado. - -The appearance of my face at the trap was greeted with a savage cry of -recognition, which subsided as quickly into silence. It was followed -by a momentary pushing to and fro among the crowd outside, which in its -turn ended in the Provost-Marshal coming to the front. 'In the king's -name!' he said fussily. - -'What is it?' I replied, eyeing rather the flushed, eager faces which -scowled over his shoulders than himself. The light of two links, borne -by some of the party, shone ruddily on the heads of the halberds, and, -flaring up from time to time, filled all the place with wavering, smoky -light. 'What do you want?' I continued, 'rousing my lodging at this time -of night?' - -'I hold a warrant for your arrest,' he replied bluntly. 'Resistance will -be vain. If you do not surrender I shall send for a ram to break in the -door.' - -'Where is your order?' I said sharply. 'The one you held this morning -was cancelled by the king himself.' - -'Suspended only,' he answered. 'Suspended only. It was given out to me -again this evening for instant execution. And I am here in pursuance of -it, and call on you to surrender.' - -'Who delivered it to you?' I retorted. - -'M. de Villequier,' he answered readily. 'And here it is. Now, come, -sir,' he continued, 'you are only making matters worse. Open to us.' - -'Before I do so,' I said drily, 'I should like to know what part in the -pageant my friend M. de Bruhl, whom I see on the stairs yonder, proposes -to play. And there is my old friend Fresnoy,' I added. 'And I see one or -two others whom I know, M. Provost. Before I surrender I must know among -other things what M. de Bruhl's business is here.' - -'It is the business of every loyal man to execute the king's warrant,' -the Provost answered evasively. 'It is yours to surrender, and mine to -lodge you in the Castle. 'But I am loth to have a disturbance. I will -give you until that torch goes out, if you like, to make up your mind. -At the end of that time, if you do not surrender, I shall batter down -the door.' - -'You will give the torch fair play?' I said, noting its condition. - -He assented; and thanking him sternly for this indulgence, I closed the -grille. - - - -CHAPTER XXV. TERMS OF SURRENDER. - -I still had my hand on the trap when a touch on the shoulder caused me -to turn, and in a moment apprised me of the imminence of a new peril; a -peril of such a kind that, summoning all my resolution, I could scarcely -hope to cope with it. Henry was at my elbow. He had taken of his mask, -and a single glance at his countenance warned me that that had happened -of which I had already felt some fear. The glitter of intense excitement -shone in his eyes. His face, darkly-flushed and wet with sweat, betrayed -overmastering emotion, while his teeth, tight clenched in the effort to -restrain the fit of trembling which possessed him, showed between his -lips like those of a corpse. The novelty of the danger which menaced -him, the absence of his gentlemen, and of all the familiar faces and -surroundings without which he never moved, the hour, the mean house, -and his isolation among strangers, had proved too much for nerves long -weakened by his course of living, and for a courage, proved indeed in -the field, but unequal to a sudden stress. Though he still strove to -preserve his dignity, it was alarmingly plain to my eyes that he was on -the point of losing, if he had not already lost, all self-command. - -'Open!' he muttered between his teeth, pointing impatiently to the trap -with the hand with which he had already touched me. 'Open, I say, sir!' - -I stared at him, startled and confounded. 'But your Majesty,' I ventured -to stammer, 'forgets that I have not yet--' - -'Open, I say!' he repeated passionately. 'Do you hear me, sir? I desire -that this door be opened.' His lean hand shook as with the palsy, so -that the gems on it twinkled in the light and rattled as he spoke. - -I looked helplessly from him to the women and back again, seeing in -a flash all the dangers which might follow from the discovery of his -presence there--dangers which I had not before formulated to myself, but -which seemed in a moment to range themselves with the utmost clearness -before my eyes. At the same time I saw what seemed to me to be a way of -escape; and emboldened by the one and the other, I kept my hand on the -trap and strove to parley with him. - -'Nay, but, sire,' I said hurriedly, yet still with as much deference -as I could command, 'I beg you to permit me first to repeat what I have -seen. M. de Bruhl is without, and I counted six men whom I believe to be -his following. They are ruffians ripe for any crime; and I implore your -Majesty rather to submit to a short imprisonment--' - -I paused struck dumb on that word, confounded by the passion which -lightened in the king's face. My ill-chosen expression had indeed -applied the spark to his wrath. Predisposed to suspicion by a hundred -treacheries, he forgot the perils outside in the one idea which on the -instant possessed his mind; that I would confine his person, and had -brought him hither for no other purpose. He glared round him with eyes -full of rage and fear, and his trembling lips breathed rather than spoke -the word 'Imprison?' - -Unluckily, a trifling occurrence added at this moment to his disorder, -and converted it into frenzy. Someone outside fell heavily against the -door; this, causing madame to utter a low shriek, seemed to shatter the -last remnant of the king's self-control. Stamping his foot on the floor, -he cried to me with the utmost wildness to open the door--by which I had -hitherto kept my place. - -But, wrongly or rightly, I was still determined to put off opening it; -and I raised my hands with the intention of making a last appeal to -him. He misread the gesture, and retreating a step, with the greatest -suddenness whipped out his sword, and in a moment had the point at my -breast, and his wrist drawn back to thrust. - -It has always been my belief that he would not have dealt the blow, -but that the mere touch of the hilt, awaking the courage which he -undoubtedly possessed, and which did not desert him in his last moments, -would have recalled him to himself. But the opportunity was not -given him, for while the blade yet quivered, and I stood motionless, -controlling myself by an effort, my knee half bent and my eyes on his, -Mademoiselle de la Vire sprang forward at his back, and with a loud -scream clutched his elbow. The king, surprised, and ignorant who held -him, flung up his point wildly, and striking the lamp above his head -with his blade, shattered it in an instant, bringing down the pottery -with a crash and reducing the room to darkness; while the screams of -the women, and the knowledge that we had a madman among us, peopled, the -blackness with a hundred horrors. - -Fearing above all for mademoiselle, I made my way as soon as I could -recover my wits to the embers of the fire, and regardless of the king's -sword, which I had a vague idea was darting about in the darkness, I -searched for and found a half-burnt stick, which I blew into a blaze. -With this, still keeping my back to the room, I contrived to light a -taper that I had noticed standing by the hearth; and then, and then -only, I turned to see what I had to confront. - -Mademoiselle de la Vire stood in a corner, half-fierce, half-terrified, -and wholly flushed. She had her hand wrapped up in a 'kerchief already -stained with blood; and from this I gathered that the king in his frenzy -had wounded her slightly. Standing before her mistress, with her hair -bristling, like a wild-cat's fur, and her arms akimbo, was Fanchette, -her harsh face and square form instinct with fury and defiance. Madame -de Bruhl and Simon cowered against the wall not far from them; and in a -chair, into which he had apparently just thrown himself, sat the king, -huddled up and collapsed, the point of his sword trailing on the ground -beside him, and his nerveless hand scarce retaining force to grip the -pommel. - -In a moment I made up my mind what to do, and going to him in silence, I -laid my pistols, sword, and dagger on a stool by his side. Then I knelt. - -'The door, sire,' I said, 'is there. It is for your Majesty to open it -when you please. Here, too, sire, are my weapons. I am your prisoner, -the Provost-Marshal is outside, and you can at a word deliver me to him. -Only one thing I beg, sire,' I continued earnestly, 'that your Majesty -will treat as a delusion the idea that I meditated for a moment -disrespect or violence to your person.' - -He looked at me dully, his face pale, his eyes fish-like. 'Sanctus, -man!' he muttered, 'why did you raise your hand?' - -'Only to implore your Majesty to pause a moment,' I answered, watching -the intelligence return slowly to his face. 'If you will deign to listen -I can explain in half a dozen words, sire. M. de Bruhl's men are six -or seven, the Provost has eight or nine; but the former are the wilder -blades, and if M. de Bruhl find your Majesty in my lodging, and infer -his own defeat, he will be capable of any desperate stroke. Your person -would hardly be safe in his company through the streets. And there is -another consideration,' I went on, observing with joy that the king -listened, and was gradually regaining his composure. 'That is, the -secrecy you desired to preserve, sire, until this matter should be -well advanced. M. de Rosny laid the strictest injunctions on me in that -respect, fearing an EMEUTE in Blois should your Majesty's plans become -known.' - -'You speak fairly,' the king answered with returning energy, though he -avoided looking at the women. 'Bruhl is likely enough to raise one. But -how am I to get out, sir?' he continued, querulously. 'I cannot remain -here. I shall be missed, man! I am not a hedge-captain, neither sought -nor wanted!' - -'If your Majesty would trust me?' I said slowly and with hesitation. - -'Trust you!' he retorted peevishly, holding up his hands and gazing -intently at his nails, of the shape and whiteness of which he was -prouder than any woman. 'Have I not trusted you? If I had not trusted -you, should I have been here? But that you were a Huguenot--God forgive -me for saying it!--I would have seen you in hell before I would have -come here with you!' - -I confess to having heard this testimony to the Religion with a pride -which made me forget for a moment the immediate circumstances--the peril -in which we stood, the gloomy room darkly lighted by a single candle, -the scared faces in the background, even the king's huddled figure, in -which dejection and pride struggled for expression. For a moment only; -then I hastened to reply, saying that I doubted not I could still -extricate his Majesty without discovery. - -'In Heaven's name do it, then!' he answered sharply. 'Do what you like, -man! Only get me back into the castle, and it shall not be a Huguenot -will entice me out again. I am over old for these adventures!' - -A fresh attack on the door taking place as he said this induced me to -lose no time in explaining my plan, which he was good enough to approve, -after again upbraiding me for bringing him into such a dilemma. Fearing -lest the door should give way prematurely, notwithstanding the bars -I had provided for it, and goaded on by Madame de Bruhl's face, which -evinced the utmost terror, I took the candle and attended his Majesty -into the inner room; where I placed my pistols beside him, but silently -resumed my sword and dagger. I then returned for the women, and -indicating by signs that they were to enter, held the door open for -them. - -Mademoiselle, whose bandaged hand I could not regard without emotion, -though the king's presence and the respect I owed him forbade me to -utter so much as a word, advanced readily until she reached the doorway -abreast of me. There, however, looking back, and seeing Madame de Bruhl -following her, she stopped short, and darting a haughty glance at me, -muttered, 'And--that lady? Are we to be shut up together, sir?' - -'Mademoiselle,' I answered quickly in the low tone she had used herself, -'have I ever asked anything dishonourable of you?' - -She seemed by a slight movement of the head to answer in the negative. - -'Nor do I now,' I replied with earnestness. 'I entrust to your care a -lady who has risked great peril for US; and the rest I leave to you.' - -She looked me very keenly in the face for a second, and then, without -answering, she passed on, Madame and Fanchette following her in that -order. I closed the door and turned to Simon; who by my direction had -blown the embers of the fire into a blaze so as to partially illumine -the room, in which only he and I now remained. The lad seemed afraid to -meet my eye, and owing to the scene at which he had just assisted, or to -the onslaught on the door, which grew each moment more furious, betrayed -greater restlessness than I had lately observed in him. I did not doubt -his fidelity, however, or his devotion to mademoiselle; and the orders I -had to give him were simple enough. - -'This is what you have got to do,' I said, my hand already on the bars. -'The moment I am outside secure this door. After that, open to no one -except Maignan. When he applies, let him in with caution, and bid him, -as he loves M. de Rosny, take his men as soon as the coast is clear, and -guard the King of France to the castle. Charge him to be brave and wary, -for his life will answer for the king's.' - -Twice I repeated this; then fearing lest the Provost-Marshal should make -good his word and apply a ram to the door, I opened the trap. A dozen -angry voices hailed my appearance, and this with so much violence and -impatience that it was some time before I could get a hearing; the -knaves threatening me if I would not instantly open, and persisting that -I should do so without more words. Their leader at length quieted them, -but it was plain that his patience too was worn out. 'Do you surrender -or do you not?' he said. 'I am not going to stay out of my bed all night -for you!' - -'I warn you,' I answered, 'that the order you have there has been -cancelled by the king!' - -'That is not my business,' he rejoined hardily. - -'No, but it will be when the king sends for you to-morrow morning,' I -retorted; at which he looked somewhat moved. 'However, I will surrender -to you on two conditions,' I continued, keenly observing the coarse -faces of his following. 'First, that you let me keep my arms until we -reach the gate-house, I giving you my parole to come with you quietly. -That is number one.' - -'Well,' the Provost-Marshal said more civilly, 'I have no objection to -that.' - -'Secondly, that you do not allow your men to break into my lodgings. I -will come out quietly, and so an end. Your order does not direct you to -sack my goods.' - -'Tut, tut!' he replied; 'I want, you to come out. I do not want to go -in.' - -'Then draw your men back to the stairs,' I said. 'And if you keep terms -with me, I will uphold you to-morrow, For your orders will certainly -bring you into trouble. M. de Retz, who procured it this morning, is -away, you know. M. de Villequier may be gone to-morrow. But depend upon -it, M. de Rambouillet will be here!' - -The remark was well timed and to the point. It startled the man as much -as I had hoped it would. Without raising any objection he ordered his -men to fall back and guard the stairs; and I on my side began to undo -the fastenings of the door. - -The matter was not to be so easily concluded, however; for Bruhl's -rascals, in obedience, no doubt, to a sign given by their leader, who -stood with Fresnoy on the upper flight of stairs, refused to withdraw; -and even hustled the Provost-Marshal's men when the latter would have -obeyed the order. The officer, already heated by delay, replied by -laying about him with his staff, and in a twinkling there seemed to -be every prospect of a very pretty MELEE, the end of which it was -impossible to foresee. - -Reflecting, however, that if Bruhl's men routed their opponents our -position might be made worse rather than better, I did not act on my -first impulse, which was to see the matter out where I was. Instead, I -seized the opportunity to let myself out, while Simon fastened the door -behind me. The Provost-Marshal was engaged at the moment in a wordy -dispute with Fresnoy; whose villainous countenance, scarred by the wound -which I had given him at Chize, and flushed with passion, looked its -worst by the light of the single torch which remained. In one respect -the villain had profited by his present patronage, for he was decked out -in a style of tawdry magnificence. But I have always remarked this -about dress, that while a shabby exterior does not entirely obscure a -gentleman, the extreme of fashion is powerless to gild a knave. - -Seeing me on a sudden at the Provost's elbow, he recoiled with a change -of countenance so ludicrous that that officer was himself startled, and -only held his ground on my saluting him civilly and declaring myself -his prisoner I added a warning that he should look to the torch which -remained; seeing that if it failed we were both like to have our throats -cut in the confusion. - -He took the hint promptly, and calling the link-man to his side prepared -to descend, bidding Fresnoy and his men, who remained clumped at the -head of the stairs, make way for us without ado. They seemed much -inclined, however, to dispute our passage, and replying to his -invectives with rough taunts, displayed so hostile a demeanour that the -Provost, between regard for his own importance and respect for Bruhl, -appeared for a moment at a loss what to do; and seemed rather relieved -than annoyed when I begged leave to say a word to M. de Bruhl. - -'If you can bring his men to reason,' he replied testily, 'speak your -fill to him!' - -Stepping to the foot of the upper flight, on which Bruhl retained his -position, I saluted him formally. He returned my greeting with a -surly, watchful look only, and drawing his cloak more tightly round him -affected to gaze down at me with disdain; which ill concealed, however, -both the triumph he felt and the hopes of vengeance he entertained. I -was especially anxious to learn whether he had tracked his wife hither, -or was merely here in pursuance of his general schemes against me, and -to this end. I asked him with as much irony as I could compass to what -I was to attribute his presence. 'I am afraid I cannot stay to offer you -hospitality,' I continued; 'but for that you have only your friend M. -Villequier to thank!' - -'I am greatly obliged to you,' he answered with a devilish smile, 'but -do not let that affect you. When you are gone I propose to help myself, -my friend, to whatever takes my taste.' - -'Do you?' I retorted coolly--not that I was unaffected by the threat and -the villainous hint which underlay the words, but that, fully expecting -them, I was ready with my answer. 'We will see about that.' And -therewith I raised my fingers to my lips, and, whistling shrilly, cried -'Maignan! Maignan!' in a clear voice. - -I had no need to cry the name a third time, for before the -Provost-Marshal could do more than start at this unexpected action, -the landing above us rang under a heavy tread, and the man I called, -descending the stairs swiftly, appeared on a sudden within arm's length -of M. de Bruhl; who, turning with an oath, saw him, and involuntarily -recoiled. At all times Maignan's hardy and confident bearing was of a -kind to impress the strong; but on this occasion there was an added dash -of recklessness in his manner which was not without its effect on the -spectators. As he stood there smiling darkly over Bruhl's head, while -his hand toyed carelessly with his dagger, and the torch shone ruddily -on his burly figure, he was so clearly an antagonist in a thousand -that, had I sought through Blois, I might not have found his fellow -for strength and SANG-FROID. He let his black eyes rove from one to the -other, but took heed of me only, saluting me with effusion and a touch -of the Gascon which was in place here, if ever. - -I knew how M. de Rosny dealt with him, and followed the pattern as -far as I could. 'Maignan!' I said curtly, 'I have taken a lodging for -to-night elsewhere. Then I am gone you will call out your men and watch -this door. If anyone tries to force an entrance you will do your duty.' - -'You may consider it done,' he replied. - -'Even if the person be M. de Bruhl here,' I continued. - -'Precisely.' - -'You will remain on guard,' I went on, 'until to-morrow morning if M. -de Bruhl remains here; but whenever he leaves you will take your orders -from the persons inside, and follow them implicitly.' - -'Your Excellency's mind may be easy,' he answered, handling his dagger. - -Dismissing him with a nod, I turned with a smile to M. de Bruhl, and saw -that between rage at this unexpected check and chagrin at the insult -put upon him, his discomfiture was as complete as I could wish. As for -Fresnoy, if he had seriously intended to dispute our passage, he was -no longer in the mood for the attempt. Yet I did not let his master -off without one more prick. 'That being settled, M. de Bruhl,' I said -pleasantly, 'I may bid you good evening. You will doubtless honour me at -Chaverny tomorrow. But we will first let Maignan look under the bridge!' - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. MEDITATIONS. - -Either the small respect I had paid M. de Bruhl, or the words I had let -fall respecting the possible disappearance of M. Villequier, had had so -admirable an effect on the Provost-Marshal's mind that from the -moment of leaving my lodgings he treated me with the utmost civility; -permitting me even to retain my sword, and assigning me a sleeping-place -for the night in his own apartments at the gate-house. - -Late as it was, I could not allow so much politeness to pass -unacknowledged. I begged leave, therefore, to distribute a small -gratuity among his attendants, and requested him to do me the honour of -drinking a bottle of wine with me. This being speedily procured, at such -an expense as is usual in these places, where prisoners pay, according -as they are rich or poor, in purse or person, kept us sitting for an -hour, and finally sent us to our pallets perfectly satisfied with one -another. - -The events of the day, however, and particularly one matter, on which I -have not dwelt at length, proved as effectual to prevent my sleeping as -if I had been placed in the dampest cell below the castle. So much had -been crowded into a time so short that it seemed as if I had had until -now no opportunity of considering whither I was being hurried, or what -fortune awaited me at the end of this turmoil. From the first -appearance of M. d'Agen in the morning, with the startling news that the -Provost-Marshal was seeking me, to my final surrender and encounter with -Bruhl on the stairs, the chain of events had run out so swiftly that I -had scarcely had time at any particular period to consider how I stood, -or the full import of the latest check or victory. Now that I had -leisure I lived the day over again, and, recalling its dangers and -disappointments, felt thankful that all had ended so fairly. - -I had the most perfect confidence in Maignan, and did not doubt that -Bruhl would soon weary, if he had not already wearied, of a profitless -siege. In an hour at most--and it was not yet midnight--the king would -be free to go home; and with that would end, as far as he was concerned, -the mission with which M. de Rosny had honoured me. The task of -communicating his Majesty's decision to the King of Navarre would -doubtless be entrusted to M. de Rambouillet, or some person of similar -position and influence; and in the same hands would rest the honour and -responsibility of the treaty which, as we all know now, gave after a -brief interval and some bloodshed, and one great providence, a lasting -peace to France. But it must ever be--and I recognised this that -night with a bounding heart, which told of some store of youth yet -unexhausted--a matter of lasting pride to me that I, whose career but -now seemed closed in failure, had proved the means of conferring so -especial a benefit on my country and religion. - -Remembering, however, the King of Navarre's warning that I must not look -to him for reward, I felt greatly doubtful in what direction the scene -would next open to me; my main dependence being upon M. de Rosny's -promise that he would make my fortune his own care. Tired of the Court -at Blois, and the atmosphere of intrigue and treachery which pervaded -it, and with which I hoped I had now done, I was still at a loss to -see how I could recross the Loire in face of the Vicomte de Turenne's -enmity. I might have troubled myself much more with speculating upon -this point had I not found--in close connection with it--other and more -engrossing food for thought in the capricious behaviour of Mademoiselle -de la Vire. - -To that behaviour it seemed to me that I now held the clue. I suspected -with as much surprise as pleasure that only one construction could be -placed upon it--a construction which had strongly occurred to me on -catching sight of her face when she intervened between me and the king. - -Tracing the matter back to the moment of our meeting in the antechamber -at St. Jean d'Angely, I remembered the jest which Mathurine had uttered -at our joint expense. Doubtless it had dwelt in mademoiselle's mind, -and exciting her animosity against me had prepared her to treat me with -contumely when, contrary to all probability, we met again, and she found -herself placed in a manner in my hands. It had inspired her harsh words -and harsher looks on our journey northwards, and contributed with her -native pride to the low opinion I had formed of her when I contrasted -her with my honoured mother. - -But I began to think it possible that the jest had worked in another -way as well, by keeping me before her mind and impressing upon her the -idea--after my re-appearance at Chize more particularly--that our fates -were in some way linked. Assuming this, it was not hard to understand -her manner at Rosny when, apprised that I was no impostor, and -regretting her former treatment of me, she still recoiled from the -feelings which she began to recognise in her own breast. From that time, -and with this clue, I had no difficulty in tracing her motives, always -supposing that this suspicion, upon which I dwelt with feelings of -wonder and delight, were well founded. - -Middle-aged and grizzled, with the best of my life behind me I had -never dared to think of her in this way before. Poor and comparatively -obscure, I had never raised my eyes to the wide possessions said to be -hers. Even now I felt myself dazzled and bewildered by the prospect so -suddenly unveiled. I could scarcely, without vertigo, recall her as I -had last seen her, with her hand wounded in my defence; nor, without -emotions painful in their intensity, fancy myself restored to the youth -of which I had taken leave, and to the rosy hopes and plannings which -visit most men once only, and then in early years. Hitherto I had deemed -such things the lot of others. - -Daylight found me--and no wonder--still diverting myself with these -charming speculations; which had for me, be it remembered, all the force -of novelty. The sun chanced to rise that morning in a clear sky, and -brilliantly for the time of year; and words fail me when I look -back, and try to describe how delicately this single fact enhanced -my pleasure! I sunned myself in the beams, which penetrated my barred -window; and tasting the early freshness with a keen and insatiable -appetite, I experienced to the full that peculiar aspiration after -goodness which Providence allows such moments to awaken in us in youth; -but rarely when time and the camp have blunted the sensibilities. - -I had not yet arrived at the stage at which difficulties have to be -reckoned up, and the chief drawback to the tumult of joy I felt took -the shape of regret that my mother no longer lived to feel the emotions -proper to the time, and to share in the prosperity which she had so -often and so fondly imagined. Nevertheless, I felt myself drawn closer -to her. I recalled with the most tender feelings, and at greater leisure -than had before been the case, her last days and words, and particularly -the appeal she had uttered on mademoiselle's behalf. And I vowed, if -it were possible, to pay a visit to her grave before leaving the -neighbourhood, that I might there devote a few moments to the thought of -the affection which had consecrated all women in my eyes. - -I was presently interrupted in these reflections by a circumstance which -proved in the end diverting enough, though far from reassuring at the -first blush. It began in a dismal rattling of chains in the passage -below and on the stairs outside my room; which were paved, like the -rest of the building, with stone. I waited with impatience and some -uneasiness to see what would come of this; and my surprise may be -imagined when, the door being unlocked, gave entrance to a man in whom I -recognised on the instant deaf Mathew--the villain whom I had last seen -with Fresnoy in the house in the Rue Valois. Amazed at seeing him -here, I sprang to my feet in fear of some treachery, and for a moment -apprehended that the Provost-Marshal had basely given me over to -Bruhl's custody. But a second glance informing me that the man was in -irons--hence the noise I had heard--I sat down again to see what would -happen. - -It then appeared, that he merely brought me my breakfast, and was -a prisoner in less fortunate circumstances than myself; but as he -pretended not to recognise me, and placed the things before me in -obdurate silence, and I had no power to make him hear, I failed to -learn how he came to be in durance. The Provost-Marshal, however, came -presently to visit me, and brought me in token that the good-fellowship -of the evening still existed a pouch of the Queen's herb; which I -accepted for politeness' sake rather than from any virtue I found in it. -And from him I learned how the rascal came to be in his charge. - -It appeared that Fresnoy, having no mind to be hampered with a wounded -man, had deposited him on the night of our MELEE at the door of a -hospital attached to a religious house in that part of the town. The -fathers had opened to him, but before taking him in put, according to -their custom, certain questions. Matthew had been primed with the right -answers to these questions, which were commonly a form; but, unhappily -for him, the Superior by chance or mistake began with the wrong one. - -'You are not a Huguenot, my son?' he said. - -'In God's name, I am!' Matthew replied with simplicity, believing he was -asked if he was a Catholic. - -'What?' the scandalised Prior ejaculated, crossing himself in doubt, -'are you not a true son of the Church?' - -'Never!' quoth our deaf friend--thinking all went well. - -'A heretic!' cried the monk. - -'Amen to that!' replied Matthew innocently; never doubting but that he -was asked the third question, which was, commonly, whether he needed -aid. - -Naturally after this there was a very pretty commotion, and -Matthew, vainly protesting that he was deaf, was hurried off to the -Provost-Marshal's custody. Asked how he communicated with him, the -Provost answered that he could not, but that his little godchild, a girl -only eight years old, had taken a strange fancy to the rogue, and was -never so happy as when talking to him by means of signs, of which she -had invented a great number. I thought this strange at the time, but I -had proof before the morning was out that it was true enough, and -that the two were seldom apart, the little child governing this grim -cut-throat with unquestioned authority. - -After the Provost was gone I heard the man's fetters clanking again. -This time he entered to remove my cup and plate, and surprised me by -speaking to me. Maintaining his former sullenness, and scarcely looking -at me, he said abruptly: 'You are going out again?' - -I nodded assent. - -'Do you remember a bald-faced bay horse that fell with you?' he -muttered, keeping his dogged glance on the floor. - -I nodded again. - -'I want to sell the horse,' he said. 'There is not such another in -Blois, no, nor in Paris! Touch it on the near hip with the whip and it -will go down as if shot. At other times a child might ride it. It is -in a stable, the third from the Three Pigeons, in the Ruelle Amancy. -Fresnoy does not know where it is. He sent to ask yesterday, but I would -not tell him.' - -Some spark of human feeling which appeared in his lowering, brutal -visage as he spoke of the horse led me to desire further information. -Fortunately the little girl appeared at that moment at the door in -search of her play-fellow; and through her I learned that the man's -motive for seeking to sell the horse was fear lest the dealer in whose -charge it stood should dispose of it to repay himself for its keep, and -he, Matthew, lose it without return. - -Still I did not understand why he applied to me, but I was well pleased -when I learned the truth. Base as the knave was, he had an affection for -the bay, which had been his only property for six years. Having this -in his mind, he had conceived the idea that I should treat it well, and -should not, because he was in prison and powerless, cheat him of the -price. - -In the end I agreed to buy the horse for ten crowns, paying as well what -was due at the stable. I had it in my head to do something also for the -man, being moved to this partly by an idea that there was good in him, -and partly by the confidence he had seen fit to place in me, which -seemed to deserve some return. But a noise below stairs diverted my -attention. I heard myself named, and for the moment forgot the matter. - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. TO ME, MY FRIENDS! - -I was impatient to learn who had come, and what was their errand with -me; and being still in that state of exaltation in which we seem to hear -and see more than at other times, I remarked a peculiar lagging in -the ascending footsteps, and a lack of buoyancy, which was quick to -communicate itself to my mind. A vague dread fell upon me as I stood -listening. Before the door opened I had already conceived a score of -disasters. I wondered that I had not inquired earlier concerning the -king's safety, and en fin I experienced in a moment that complete -reaction of the spirits which is too frequently consequent upon an -excessive flow of gaiety. - -I was prepared, therefore, for heavy looks, but not for the persons who -wore them nor the strange bearing the latter displayed on entering. My -visitors proved to be M. d'Agen and Simon Fleix. And so far well. But -the former, instead of coming forward to greet me with the punctilious -politeness which always characterised him, and which I had thought to -be proof against every kind of surprise and peril, met me with downcast -eyes and a countenance so gloomy as to augment my fears a hundredfold; -since it suggested all those vague and formidable pains which M. de -Rambouillet had hinted might await me in a prison. I thought nothing -more probable than the entrance after them of a gaoler laden with gyves -and handcuffs; and saluting M. Francois with a face which, do what I -would, fashioned itself upon his, I had scarce composure sufficient to -place the poor accommodation of my room at his disposal. - -He thanked me; but he did it with so much gloom and so little -naturalness that I grew more impatient with each laboured syllable. -Simon Fleix had slunk to the window and turned his back on us. Neither -seemed to have anything to say. But a state of suspense was one which I -could least endure to suffer; and impatient of the constraint which -my friend's manner was fast imparting to mine, I asked him at once and -abruptly if his uncle had returned. - -'He rode in about midnight,' he answered, tracing a pattern on the floor -with the point of his riding-switch. - -I felt some surprise on hearing this, since d'Agen was still dressed -and armed for the road, and was without all those prettinesses -which commonly marked his attire. But as he volunteered no further -information, and did not even refer to the place in which he found me, -or question me as to the adventures which had lodged me there, I let it -pass, and asked him if his party had overtaken the deserters. - -'Yes,' he answered, 'with no result.' - -'And the king?' - -'M. de Rambouillet is with him now,' he rejoined, still bending over his -tracing. - -This answer relieved the worst of my anxieties, but the manner of -the speaker was so distrait and so much at variance with the studied -INSOUCIANCE which he usually, affected, that I only grew more alarmed. I -glanced at Simon Fleix, but he kept his face averted, and I could gather -nothing from it; though I observed that he, too, was dressed for the -road, and wore his arms. I listened, but I could hear no sounds which -indicated that the Provost-Marshal was approaching. Then on a sudden I -thought of Mademoiselle de la Vire. Could it be that Maignan had proved -unequal to his task? - -I started impetuously from my stool under the influence of the emotion -which this thought naturally aroused, and seized M. d'Agen by the arm. -'What has happened?' I exclaimed. 'Is it Bruhl? Did he break into my -lodgings last night? What!' I continued, staggering back as I read the -confirmation of my fears in his face. 'He did?' - -M. d'Agen, who had risen also, pressed my hand with convulsive energy. -Gazing into my face, he held me a moment thus embraced, His manner a -strange mixture of fierceness and emotion. 'Alas, yes,' he answered, 'he -did, and took away those whom he found there! Those whom he found there, -you understand! But M. de Rambouillet is on his way here, and in a -few minutes you will be free. We will follow together. If we overtake -them--well. If not, it will be time to talk.' - -He broke off, and I stood looking at him, stunned by the blow, yet in -the midst of my own horror and surprise retaining sense enough to wonder -at the gloom on his brow and the passion which trembled in his words. -What had this to do with him? 'But Bruhl?' I said at last, recovering -myself with an effort--'how did he gain access to the room? I left it -guarded.' - -'By a ruse, while Maignan and his men were away,' was the answer. 'Only -this lad of yours was there. Bruhl's men overpowered him.' - -'Which way has Bruhl gone?' I muttered, my throat dry, my heart beating -wildly. - -He shook his head. 'All we know is that he passed through the south gate -with eleven horsemen, two women, and six led horses, at daybreak this -morning,' he answered. 'Maignan came to my uncle with the news, and M. -de Rambouillet went at once, early as it was, to the king to procure -your release. He should be here now.' - -I looked at the barred window, the most horrible fears at my heart; -from it to Simon Fleix, who stood beside it, his attitude expressing -the utmost dejection. I went towards him. 'You hound!' I said in a low -voice, 'how did it happen?' - -To my surprise he fell in a moment on his knees, and raised his arm as -though to ward off a blow. 'They imitated Maignan's voice,' he muttered -hoarsely. 'We opened.' - -'And you dare to come here and tell me!' I cried, scarcely restraining -my passion. 'You, to whom I entrusted her. You, whom I thought devoted -to her. You have destroyed her, man!' - -He rose as suddenly as he had cowered down. His thin, nervous face -underwent a startling change; growing on a sudden hard and rigid, while -his eyes began to glitter with excitement. 'I--I have destroyed her? -Ay, mon dieu! I HAVE,' he cried, speaking to my face, and no longer -flinching or avoiding my eye. 'You may kill me, if you like. You do not -know all. It was I who stole the favour she gave you from your doublet, -and then said M. de Rosny had taken it! It was I who told her you had -given it away! It was I who brought her to the Little Sisters', that she -might see you with Madame de Bruhl! It was I who did all, and destroyed -her! Now you know! Do with me what you like!' - -He opened his arms as though to receive a blow, while I stood before -him astounded beyond measure by a disclosure so unexpected; full of -righteous wrath and indignation, and yet uncertain what I ought to do. -'Did you also let Bruhl into the room on purpose?' I cried at last. - -'I?' he exclaimed, with a sudden flash of rage in his eyes. 'I would -have died first!' - -I do not know how I might have taken this confession; but at the moment -there was a trampling of horses outside, and before I could answer him -I heard M. de Rambouillet speaking in haughty tones, at the door below. -The Provost-Marshal was with him, but his lower notes were lost in the -ring of bridles and the stamping of impatient hoofs. I looked towards -the door of my room, which stood ajar, and presently the two entered, -the Marquis listening with an air of contemptuous indifference to the -apologies which the other, who attended at his elbow, was pouring forth. -M. de Rambouillet's face reflected none of the gloom and despondency -which M. d'Agen's exhibited in so marked a degree. He seemed, on the -contrary, full of gaiety and good-humour, and, coming forward and seeing -me, embraced me with the utmost kindness and condescension. - -'Ha! my friend,' he said cheerfully, 'so I find you here after all! -But never fear. I am this moment from the king with an order for your -release. His Majesty has told me all, making me thereby your lasting -friend and debtor. As for this gentleman,' he continued, turning with -a cold smile to the Provost-Marshal, who seemed to be trembling in his -boots, 'he may expect an immediate order also. M. de Villequier has -wisely gone a-hunting, and will not be back for a day or two.' - -Racked as I was by suspense and anxiety, I could not assail him with -immediate petitions. It behoved me first to thank him for his prompt -intervention, and this in terms as warm as I could invent. Nor could -I in justice fail to commend the Provost; to him, representing the -officer's conduct to me, and lauding his ability. All this, though -my heart was sick with thought and fear and disappointment, and every -minute seemed an age. - -'Well, well,' the Marquis said with stately good-nature, 'We will lay -the blame on Villequier then. He is an old fox, however, and ten to one -he will go scot-free. It is not the first time he has played this trick. -But I have not yet come to the end of my commission,' he continued -pleasantly. 'His Majesty sends you this, M. de Marsac, and bade me say -that he had loaded it for you.' - -He drew from under his cloak as he spoke the pistol which I had left -with the king, and which happened to be the same M. de Rosny had given -me. I took it, marvelling impatiently at the careful manner in which he -handled it; but in a moment I understood for I found it loaded to the -muzzle with gold-pieces, of which two or three fell and rolled upon the -floor. Much moved by this substantial mark of the king's gratitude, -I was nevertheless for pocketing them in haste; but the Marquis, to -satisfy a little curiosity on his part, would have me count them, and -brought the tale to a little over two thousand livres, without counting -a ring set with precious stones which I found among them. This handsome -present diverted my thoughts from Simon Fleix, but could not relieve the -anxiety I felt on mademoiselle's account. The thought of her position so -tortured me that M. de Rambouillet began to perceive my state of mind, -and hastened to assure me that before going to the Court he had already -issued orders calculated to assist me. - -'You desire to follow this lady, I understand?' he said. 'What with the -king who is enraged beyond the ordinary by this outrage, and Francois -there, who seemed beside himself when he heard the news, I have not got -any very clear idea of the position.' - -'She was entrusted to me by--by one, sir, well known to you,' I answered -hoarsely. 'My honour is engaged to him and to her. If I follow on my -feet and alone, I must follow. If I cannot save her, I can at least -punish the villains who have wronged her.' - -'But the man's wife is with them,' he said in some wonder. - -'That goes for nothing,' I answered. - -He saw the strong emotion under which I laboured, and which scarcely -suffered me to answer him with patience; and he looked at me curiously, -but not unkindly. 'The sooner you are off, the better then,' he said, -nodding. 'I gathered as much. The man Maignan will have his fellows -at the south gate an hour before noon, I understand. Francois has two -lackeys, and he is wild to go. With yourself and the lad there you will -muster nine swords. I will lend you two. I can spare no more, for we may -have an EMEUTE at any moment. You will take the road, therefore, eleven -in all, and should overtake them some time to-night if your horses are -in condition.' - -I thanked him warmly, without regarding his kindly statement that my -conduct on the previous day had laid him under lasting obligations to -me. We went down together, and he transferred two of his fellows to me -there and then, bidding them change their horses for fresh ones and -meet me at the south gate. He sent also a man to my stable--Simon Fleix -having disappeared in the confusion--for the Cid, and was in the act of -inquiring whether I needed anything else, when a woman slipped through -the knot of horsemen who surrounded us as we stood in the doorway of -the house, and, throwing herself upon me, grasped me by the arm. It was -Fanchette. Her harsh features were distorted with grief, her cheeks -were mottled with the violent weeping in which such persons vent their -sorrow. Her hair hung in long wisps on her neck. Her dress was torn and -draggled, and there was a great bruise over her eye. She had the air of -one frantic with despair and misery. - -She caught me by the cloak, and shook me so that I staggered. 'I have -found you at last!' she cried joyfully. 'You will take me with you! You -will take me to her!' - -Though her words tried my composure, and my heart went out to her, -I strove to answer her according to the sense of the matter. 'It is -impossible, I said sternly. 'This is a man's errand. We shall have to -ride day and night, my good woman.' - -'But I will ride day and night too!' she replied passionately, flinging -the hair from her eyes, and looking wildly from me to M. Rambouillet. -'What would I not do for her? I am as strong as a man, and stronger. -Take me, take me, I say, and when I meet that villain I will tear him -limb for limb!' - -I shuddered, listening to her; but remembering that, being country -bred, she was really as strong as she said, and that likely enough some -advantage might accrue to us from her perfect fidelity and devotion -to her mistress, I gave a reluctant consent. I sent one of M. de -Rambouillet's men to the stable where the deaf man's bay was standing, -bidding him pay whatever was due to the dealer, and bring the horse to -the south gate; my intention being to mount one of my men on it, and -furnish the woman with a less tricky steed. - -The briskness of these and the like preparations, which even for one -of my age and in my state of anxiety were not devoid, of pleasure, -prevented my thoughts dwelling on the future. Content to have M. -Francois' assistance without following up too keenly the train of ideas -which his readiness suggested, I was satisfied also to make use of Simon -without calling him to instant account for his treachery. The bustle of -the streets, which the confirmation of the king's speedy departure had -filled with surly, murmuring crowds, tended still further to keep my -fears at bay; while the contrast between my present circumstances, as I -rode through them well-appointed and well-attended, with the Marquis by -my side, and the poor appearance I had exhibited on my first arrival in -Blois, could not fail to inspire me with hope that I might surmount this -danger, also, and in the event find Mademoiselle safe and uninjured. I -took leave of M. de Rambouillet with many expressions of esteem on both -sides, and a few minutes before eleven reached the rendezvous outside -the south gate. - -M. d'Agen and Maignan advanced to meet me, the former still presenting -an exterior so stern and grave that I wondered to see him, and could -scarcely believe he was the same gay spark whose elegant affectations -had more than once caused me to smile. He saluted me in silence; Maignan -with a sheepish air, which ill-concealed the savage temper defeat had -roused in him. Counting my men, I found we mustered ten only, but the -equerry explained that he had despatched a rider ahead to make inquiries -and leave word for us at convenient points; to the end that we might -follow the trail with as few delays as possible. Highly commending -Maignan for his forethought in this, I gave the word to start, and -crossing the river by the St. Gervais Bridge, we took the road for -Selles at a smart trot. - -The weather had changed much in the last twenty-four hours. The sun -shone brightly, with a warm west wind, and the country already showed -signs of the early spring which marked that year. If, the first hurry of -departure over, I had now leisure to feel the gnawing of anxiety and the -tortures inflicted by an imagination which, far outstripping us, rode -with those whom we pursued and shared their perils, I found two sources -of comfort still open to me. No man who has seen service can look on a -little band of well-appointed horsemen without pleasure. I reviewed the -stalwart forms and stern faces which moved beside me and comparing their -decent order and sound equipments with the scurvy foulness of the men -who had ridden north with me, thanked God, and, ceased to wonder at the -indignation which Matthew and his fellows had aroused in mademoiselle's -mind. My other source of satisfaction, the regular beat of hoofs and -ring of bridles continually augmented. Every step took us farther from -Blois--farther from the close town and reeking streets and the Court; -which, if it no longer seemed to me a shambles, befouled by one great -deed of blood--experience had removed that impression--retained an -appearance infinitely mean and miserable in my eyes. I hated and loathed -its intrigues and its jealousies, the folly which trifled in a closet -while rebellion mastered France, and the pettiness which recognised no -wisdom save that of balancing party and party. I thanked God that my -work there was done, and could have welcomed any other occasion that -forced me to turn my back on it, and sent me at large over the pure -heaths, through the woods, and under the wide heaven, speckled with -moving clouds. - -But such springs of comfort soon ran dry. M. d'Agen's gloomy rage and -the fiery gleam in Maignan's eye would have reminded me, had I been -in any danger of forgetting the errand on which we were bound, and the -need, exceeding all other needs, which compelled us to lose no moment -that might be used. Those whom we followed had five hours' start. The -thought of what might; happen in those five hours to the two helpless -women whom I had sworn to protect burned itself into my mind; so that -to refrain from putting spurs to my horse and riding recklessly forward -taxed at times all my self-control. The horses seemed to crawl. The men -rising and falling listlessly in their saddles maddened me. Though I -could not hope to come upon any trace of our quarry for many hours, -perhaps for days, I scanned the long, flat heaths unceasingly, searched -every marshy bottom before we descended into it, and panted for the -moment when the next low ridge should expose to our view a fresh track -of wood and waste. The rosy visions of the past night, and those fancies -in particular which had made the dawn memorable, recurred to me, as his -deeds in the body (so men say) to a hopeless drowning wretch. I grew to -think of nothing but Bruhl and revenge. Even the absurd care with which -Simon avoided the neighbourhood of Fanchette, riding anywhere so long -as he might ride at a distance from the angry woman's tongue and -hand--which provoked many a laugh from the men, and came to be the joke -of the company--failed to draw a smile from me. - -We passed through Contres, four leagues from Blois, an hour after noon, -and three hours later crossed the Cher at Selles, where we stayed -awhile to bait our horses. Here we had news of the party before us, and -henceforth had little doubt that Bruhl was making for the Limousin; a -district in which he might rest secure under the protection of Turenne, -and safely defy alike the King of France and the King of Navarre. The -greater the necessity, it was plain, for speed; but the roads in -that neighbourhood, and forward as far as Valancy, proved heavy and, -foundrous, and it was all we could do to reach Levroux with jaded -horses three hours after sunset. The probability that Bruhl would lie -at Chateauroux, five leagues farther on--for I could not conceive that -under the circumstances he would spare the women--would have led me to -push forward had it been possible; but the darkness and the difficulty -of finding a guide who would venture deterred me from the hopeless -attempt, and we stayed the night where we were. - -Here we first heard of the plague; which was said to be ravaging -Chateauroux and all the country farther south. The landlord of the inn -would have regaled us with many stories of it, and particularly of the -swiftness with which men and even cattle succumbed to its attacks. But -we had other things to think of, and between anxiety and weariness had -clean forgotten the matter when we rose next morning. - -We started shortly after daybreak, and for three leagues pressed on at -tolerable speed. Then, for no reason stated, our guide gave us the slip -as we passed through a wood, and was seen no more. We lost the road, -and had to retrace our steps. We strayed into a slough, and extracted -ourselves with difficulty. The man who was riding the bay I had -purchased forgot the secret which I had imparted to him, and got an ugly -fall. En fin, after all these mishaps it wanted little of noon, -and less to exhaust our patience, when at length we came in sight of -Chateauroux. - -Before entering the town we had still an adventure; for we came at -a turn in the road on a scene as surprising as it was at first -inexplicable. A little north of the town, in a coppice of box facing the -south and west, we happed suddenly on a rude encampment, consisting of -a dozen huts and booths, set back from the road and formed, some of -branches of evergreen trees laid clumsily together, and some of sacking -stretched over poles. A number of men and women of decent appearance lay -on the short grass before the booths, idly sunning themselves; or moved -about, cooking and tending fires, while a score of children raced to and -fro with noisy shouts and laughter. The appearance of our party on the -scene caused an instant panic. The women and children fled screaming -into the wood, spreading the sound of breaking branches farther and -farther as they retreated; while the men, a miserable pale-faced set, -drew together, and seeming half-inclined to fly also, regarded us with -glances of fear and suspicion. - -Remarking that their appearance and dress were not those of vagrants, -while the booths seemed to indicate little skill or experience in the -builders, I bade my companions halt, and advanced alone. - -'What is the meaning of this, my men?' I said, addressing the first -group I reached. 'You seem to have come a-Maying before the time. Whence -are you?' - -'From Chateauroux,' the foremost answered sullenly. His dress, now I saw -him nearer, seemed to be that of a respectable townsman. - -'Why?' I replied. 'Have you no homes?' - -'Ay, we have homes,' he answered with the same brevity. - -'Then why, in God's name, are you here?' I retorted, marking the gloomy -air and downcast faces of the group. 'Have you been harried?' - -'Ay, harried by the Plague!' he answered bitterly. 'Do you mean to say -you have not heard? In Chateauroux there is one man dead in three. Take -my advice, sir--you are a brave company--turn, and go home again.' - -'Is it as bad as that?' I exclaimed. I had forgotten the landlord's -gossip, and the explanation struck me with the force of surprise. - -'Ay, is it! Do you see the blue haze?' he continued, pointing with a -sudden gesture to the lower ground before us, over which a light pall -of summery vapour hung still and motionless. 'Do you see it? Well, under -that there is death! You may find food in Chateauroux, and stalls for -your horses, and a man to take money; for there are still men there. -But cross the Indre, and you will see sights worse than a battle-field a -week old! You will find no living soul in house or stable or church, but -corpses plenty. The land is cursed! cursed for heresy, some say! Half -are dead, and half are fled to the woods! And if you do not die of the -plague, you will starve.' - -'God forbid!' I muttered, thinking with a shudder of those before -us. This led me to ask him if a party resembling ours in number, and -including two women, had passed that way. He answered, Yes, after sunset -the evening before; that their horses were stumbling with fatigue -and the men swearing in pure weariness. He believed that they had not -entered the town, but had made a rude encampment half a mile beyond it; -and had again broken this up, and ridden southwards two or three hours -before our arrival. - -'Then we may overtake them to-day?' I said. - -'By your leave, sir,' he answered, with grave meaning. 'I think you are -more likely to meet them.' - -Shrugging my shoulders, I thanked him shortly and left him; the full -importance of preventing my men hearing what I had heard--lest the -panic which possessed these townspeople should seize on them also--being -already in my mind. Nevertheless the thought came too late, for on -turning my horse I found one of the foremost, a long, solemn-faced man, -had already found his way to Maignan's stirrup; where he was dilating -so eloquently upon the enemy which awaited us southwards that the -countenances of half the troopers were as long as his own, and I saw -nothing for it but to interrupt his oration by a smart application of my -switch to his shoulders. Having thus stopped him, and rated him back to -his fellows, I gave the word to march. The men obeyed mechanically, we -swung into a canter, and for a moment the danger was over. - -But I knew that it would recur again and again. Stealthily marking the -faces round me, and listening to the whispered talk which went on, I saw -the terror spread from one to another. Voices which earlier in the day -had been raised in song and jest grew silent. Great reckless fellows of -Maignan's following, who had an oath and a blow for all comers, and -to whom the deepest ford seemed to be child's play, rode with drooping -heads and knitted brows; or scanned with ill-concealed anxiety the -strange haze before us, through which the roofs of the town, and here -and there a low hill or line of poplars, rose to plainer view. Maignan -himself, the stoutest of the stout, looked grave, and had lost his -swaggering air. Only three persons preserved their SANG-FROID entire. Of -these, M. d'Agen rode as if he had heard nothing, and Simon Fleix as if -he feared nothing; while Fanchette, gazing eagerly forward, saw, it was -plain, only one object in the mist, and that was her Mistress's face. - -'We found the gates of the town open, and this, which proved to be the -herald of stranger sights, daunted the hearts of my men more than the -most hostile reception. As we entered, our horses' hoofs, clattering -loudly on the pavement, awoke a hundred echoes in the empty houses to -right and left. The main street, flooded with sunshine, which made its -desolation seem a hundred times more formidable, stretched away before -us, bare and empty; or haunted only by a few slinking dogs, and prowling -wretches, who fled, affrighted at the unaccustomed sounds, or stood and -eyed us listlessly as me passed. A bell tolled; in the distance we heard -the wailing of women. The silent ways, the black cross which marked -every second door, the frightful faces which once or twice looked out -from upper windows and blasted our sight, infected my men with terror so -profound and so ungovernable that at last discipline was forgotten; -and one shoving his horse before another in narrow places, there was -a scuffle to be first. One, and then a second, began to trot. The trot -grew into a shuffling canter. The gates of the inn lay open, nay seemed -to invite us to enter; but no one turned or halted. Moved by a single -impulse we pushed breathlessly on and on, until the open country was -reached, and we who had entered the streets in silent awe, swept out and -over the bridge as if the fiend were at our heels. - -That I shared in this flight causes me no shame even now, for my men -were at the time ungovernable, as the best-trained troops are when -seized by such panics; and, moreover, I could have done no good by -remaining in the town, where the strength of the contagion was probably -greater and the inn larder like to be as bare, as the hillside. Few -towns are without a hostelry outside the gates for the convenience of -knights of the road or those who would avoid the dues, and Chateauroux -proved no exception to this rule. A short half-mile from the walls we -drew rein before a second encampment raised about a wayside house. -It scarcely needed the sound of music mingled with brawling voices to -inform us that the wilder spirits of the town had taken refuge here, and -were seeking to drown in riot and debauchery, as I have seen happen in a -besieged place, the remembrance of the enemy which stalked abroad in the -sunshine. Our sudden appearance, while it put a stop to the mimicry -of mirth, brought out a score of men and women in every stage of -drunkenness and dishevelment, of whom some, with hiccoughs and loose -gestures, cried to us to join them, while others swore horridly at being -recalled to the present, which, with the future, they were endeavouring -to forget. - -I cursed them in return for a pack of craven wretches, and threatening -to ride down those who obstructed us, ordered my men forward; halting -eventually a quarter of a mile farther on, where a wood of groundling -oaks which still wore last year's leaves afforded fair shelter. Afraid -to leave my men myself, lest some should stray to the inn and others -desert altogether, I requested M. d'Agen to return thither with Maignan -and Simon, and bring us what forage and food we required. This he did -with perfect success, though not until after a scuffle, in which -Maignan showed himself a match for a hundred. We watered the horses at -a neighbouring brook, and assigning two hours to rest and refreshment--a -great part of which M. d'Agen and I spent walking up and down in moody -silence, each immersed in his own thoughts--we presently took the road -again with renewed spirits. - -But a panic is not easily shaken off, nor is any fear so difficult to -combat and defeat as the fear of the invisible. The terrors which food -and drink had for a time thrust out presently returned with sevenfold -force. Men looked uneasily in one another's faces, and from them to the -haze which veiled all distant objects. They muttered of the heat, -which was sudden, strange, and abnormal at that time of the year. And -by-and-by they had other things to speak of. We met a man, who ran -beside us and begged of us, crying out in a dreadful voice that his wife -and four children lay unburied in the house. A little farther on, beside -a well, the corpse of a woman with a child at her breast lay poisoning -the water; she had crawled to it to appease her thirst, and died of the -draught. Last of all, in, a beech-wood near Lotier we came upon a lady -living in her coach, with one or two panic-stricken women for her only -attendants. Her husband was in Paris, she told me; half her servants -were dead, the rest had fled. Still she retained in a remarkable degree -both courage and courtesy, and accepting with fortitude my reasons -and excuses for perforce leaving her in such a plight, gave me a clear -account of Bruhl and his party, who had passed her some, hours before. -The picture of this lady gazing after us with perfect good-breeding, -as we rode away at speed, followed by the lamentations of her women, -remains with me to this day; filling my mind at once with admiration and -melancholy. For, as I learned later, she fell ill of the plague where we -left her in the beech-wood, and died in a night with both her servants. - -The intelligence we had from her inspired us to push forward, sparing -neither spur nor horseflesh, in the hope that we might overtake Bruhl -before night should expose his captives to fresh hardships and dangers. -But the pitch to which the dismal sights and sounds I have mentioned, -and a hundred like them, had raised the fears of my following did much -to balk my endeavours. For a while, indeed, under the influence of -momentary excitement, they spurred their horses to the gallop, as if -their minds were made up to face the worst; but presently they checked -them despite all my efforts, and, lagging slowly and more slowly, seemed -to lose all spirit and energy. The desolation which met our eyes on -every side, no less than the death-like stillness which prevailed, even -the birds, as it seemed to us, being silent, chilled the most reckless -to the heart. Maignan's face lost its colour, his voice its ring. As for -the rest, starting at a sound and wincing if a leather galled them, -they glanced backwards twice for once they looked forwards, and held -themselves ready to take to their heels and be gone at the least alarm. - -Noting these signs, and doubting if I could trust even Maignan, I -thought it prudent to change my place, and falling to the rear, rode -there with a grim face and a pistol ready to my hand. It was not the -least of my annoyances that M. d'Agen appeared to be ignorant of any -cause for apprehension save such as lay before us, and riding on in the -same gloomy fit which had possessed him from the moment of starting, -neither sought my opinion nor gave his own, but seemed to have undergone -so complete and mysterious a change that I could think of one thing only -that could have power to effect so marvellous a transformation. I felt -his presence a trial rather than a help, and reviewing the course of our -short friendship, which a day or two before had been so great a delight -to me--as the friendship of a young man commonly is to one growing -old--I puzzled myself with much wondering whether there could be rivalry -between us. - -Sunset, which was welcome to my company, since it removed the haze, -which they regarded with superstitious dread, found us still plodding -through a country of low ridges and shallow valleys, both clothed in -oak-woods. Its short brightness died away, and with it my last hope of -surprising Bruhl before I slept. Darkness fell upon us as we wended -our way slowly down a steep hillside where the path was so narrow and -difficult as to permit only one to descend at a time. A stream of some -size, if we might judge from the noise it made, poured through the -ravine below us, and presently, at the point where we believed the -crossing to be, we espied a solitary light shining in the blackness. -To proceed farther was impossible, for the ground grew more and more -precipitous; and, seeing this, I bade Maignan dismount, and leaving us -where we were, go for a guide to the house from which the light issued. - -He obeyed, and plunging into the night, which in that pit; between the -hills was of an inky darkness, presently returned with a peasant and a -lanthorn. I was about to bid the man guide us to the ford, or to some -level ground where we could picket the horses, when Maignan gleefully -cried out that he had news. I asked what news. - -'Speak up, MANANT!' he said, holding up his lanthorn so that the light -fell on the man's haggard face and unkempt hair. 'Tell his Excellency -what you have told me, or I will skin you alive, little man!' - -'Your other party came to the ford an hour before sunset,' the peasant -answered, staring dully at us. 'I saw them coming, and hid myself. They -quarrelled by the ford. Some were for crossing, and some not.' - -'They had ladies with them?' M. d'Agen said suddenly. - -'Ay, two, your Excellency,' the clown answered, 'riding like men. In the -end they did not cross for fear of the plague, but turned up the river, -and rode westwards towards St. Gaultier.' - -'St. Gaultier!' I said, 'Where is that? Where does the road to it go to -besides?' - -But the peasant's knowledge was confined to his own neighbourhood. He -knew no world beyond St. Gaultier, and could not answer my question. I -was about to bid him show us the way down, when Maignan cried out that -he knew more. - -'What?' I asked. - -'Arnidieu! he heard them say where they were going to spend the night!' - -'Ha!' I cried. 'Where?' - -'In an old ruined castle two leagues from this, and between here and St. -Gaultier,' the equerry answered, forgetting in his triumph both plague -and panic. 'What do you say to that, your Excellency? It is so, sirrah, -is it not?' he continued, turning to the peasant. 'Speak, Master -Jacques, or I will roast you before a slow fire!' - -But I did not wait to hear the answer. Leaping to the ground, I took the -Cid's rein on my arm, and cried impatiently to the man to lead us down. - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CASTLE ON THE HILL. - -The certainty that Bruhl and his captives were not far off, and the -likelihood that we might be engaged within the hour, expelled from the -minds of even the most timorous among us the vapourish fears which had -before haunted them. In the hurried scramble which presently landed us -on the bank of the stream, men who had ridden for hours in sulky -silence found their voices, and from cursing their horses' blunders soon -advanced to swearing and singing after the fashion of their kind. This -change, by relieving me of a great fear, left me at leisure to consider -our position, and estimate more clearly than I might have done the -advantages of hastening, or postponing, an attack. We numbered eleven; -the enemy, to the best of my belief, twelve. Of this slight superiority -I should have reeked little in the daytime; nor, perhaps, counting -Maignan as two, have allowed that it existed. But the result of a -night attack is more difficult to forecast; and I had also to take into -account the perils to which the two ladies would be exposed, between the -darkness and tumult, in the event of the issue remaining for a time in -doubt. - -These considerations, and particularly the last, weighed so powerfully -with me, that before I reached the bottom of the gorge I had decided to -postpone the attack until morning. The answers to some questions which -I put to the inhabitant of the house by the ford as soon as I reached -level ground only confirmed me in this resolution. The road Bruhl had -taken ran for a distance by the riverside, and along the bottom of -the gorge; and, difficult by day, was reported to be impracticable for -horses by night. The castle he had mentioned lay full two leagues away, -and on the farther edge of a tract of rough woodland. Finally, I doubted -whether, in the absence of any other reason for delay, I could have -marched my men, weary as they were, to the place before daybreak. - -When I came to announce this decision, however, and to inquire what -accommodation the peasant could afford us, I found myself in trouble. -Fanchette, mademoiselle's woman, suddenly confronted me, her face -scarlet with rage. Thrusting herself forward into the circle of light -cast by the lanthorn, she assailed me with a virulence and fierceness -which said more for her devotion to her mistress than her respect for -me. Her wild gesticulations, her threats, and the appeals which she -made now to me, and now to the men who stood in a circle round us, their -faces in shadow, discomfited as much as they surprised me. - -'What!' she cried violently, 'you call yourself a gentleman, and lie -here and let my mistress be murdered, or worse, within a league of you! -Two leagues? A groat for your two leagues! I would walk them barefoot, -if that would shame you. And you, you call yourselves men, and suffer -it! It is God's truth you are a set of cravens and sluggards. Give me as -many women, and I would--' - -'Peace, woman!' Maignan said in his deep voice. 'You had your way and -came with us, and you will obey orders as well as another! Be off, and -see to the victuals before worse happen to you!' - -'Ay, see to the victuals!' she retorted. 'See to the victuals, forsooth! -That is all you think of--to lie warm and eat your fill! A set of -dastardly, drinking, droning guzzlers you are! You are!' she retorted, -her voice rising to a shriek. 'May the plague take you!' - -'Silence!' Maignan growled fiercely, 'or have a care to yourself! For a -copper-piece I would send you to cool your heels in the water below--for -that last word! Begone, do you hear,' he continued, seizing her by the -shoulder and thrusting her towards the house, 'or worse may happen to -you. We are rough customers, as you will find if you do not lock up your -tongue!' - -I heard her go wailing into the darkness; and Heaven knows it was not -without compunction I forced myself to remain inactive in the face of a -devotion which seemed so much greater than mine. The men fell away one -by one to look to their horses and choose sleeping-quarters for the -night; and presently M. d'Agen and I were left alone standing beside the -lanthorn, which the man had hung on a bush before his door. The brawling -of the water as it poured between the banks, a score of paces from us, -and the black darkness which hid everything beyond the little ring -of light in which we stood--so that for all we could see we were in a -pit--had the air of isolating us from all the world. - -I looked at the young man, who had not once lisped that day; and I -plainly read in his attitude his disapproval of my caution. Though he -declined to meet my eye, he stood with his arms folded and his head -thrown back, making no attempt to disguise the scorn and ill-temper -which his face expressed. Hurt by the woman's taunts, and possibly -shaken in my opinion, I grew restive under his silence, and unwisely -gave way to my feelings. - -'You do not appear to approve of my decision, M. d'Agen?' I said. - -'It is yours to command, sir,' he answered proudly. - -There are truisms which have more power to annoy than the veriest -reproaches. I should have borne in mind the suspense and anxiety he was -suffering, and which had so changed him that I scarcely knew him for -the gay young spark on whose toe I had trodden. I should have remembered -that he was young and I old, and that it behoved me to be patient. But -on my side also there was anxiety, and responsibility as well; and, -above all, a rankling soreness, to which I refrain from giving the name -of jealousy, though it came as near to that feeling as the difference -in our ages and personal advantages (whereof the balance was all on his -side) would permit. This, no doubt, it was which impelled me to continue -the argument. - -'You would go on?' I said persistently. - -'It is idle to say what I would do,' he answered with a flash of anger. - -'I asked for your opinion, sir,' I rejoined stiffly. - -'To what purpose?' he retorted, stroking his small moustache haughtily, -'We look at the thing from opposite points. You, are going about your -business, which appears to be the rescuing of ladies who are--may I -venture to say it? so unfortunate as to entrust themselves to your -charge. I, M. de Marsac, am more deeply interested. More deeply -interested,' he repeated lamely. 'I--in a word, I am prepared, sir, to -do what others only talk of--and if I cannot follow otherwise, would -follow on my feet!' - -'Whom?' I asked curtly, stung by this repetition of my own words. - -He laughed harshly and bitterly. 'Why explain? or why quarrel?' -he replied cynically. 'God knows, if I could afford to quarrel with -you, I should have done so fifty hours ago. But I need your help; and, -needing it, I am prepared to do that which must seem to a person of your -calm passions and perfect judgment alike futile and incredible--pay the -full price for it.' - -'The full price for it!' I muttered, understanding nothing, except that -I did not understand. - -'Ay, the full price for it!' he repeated. And as he spoke he looked at -me with an expression of rage so fierce that I recoiled a step. That -seemed to restore him in some degree to himself, for without giving me -an opportunity of answering he turned hastily from me, and, striding -away, was in a moment lost in the darkness. - -He left me amazed beyond measure. I stood repeating his phrase about -'the full price' a hundred times over, but still found it and his -passion inexplicable. To cut the matter short, I could come to no other -conclusion than that he desired to insult me, and aware of my poverty -and the equivocal position in which I stood towards mademoiselle, chose -his words accordingly. This seemed a thing unworthy of one of whom I -had before thought highly; but calmer reflection enabling me to see -something of youthful bombast in the tirade he had delivered, I smiled -a little sadly, and determined to think no more of the matter for the -present, but to persist firmly in that which seemed to me to be the -right course. - -Having settled this, I was about to enter the house, when Maignan -stopped me, telling me that the plague had killed five people in it, -letting only the man we had seen; who had, indeed, been seized, but -recovered. This ghastly news had scared my company to such a degree that -they had gone as far from the house as the level ground permitted, and -there lighted a fire, round which they were going to pass the night. -Fanchette had taken up her quarters in the stable, and the equerry -announced that he had kept a shed full of sweet hay for M. d'Agen and -myself. I assented to this arrangement, and after supping off soup and -black bread, which was all we could procure, bade the peasant rouse us -two hours before sunrise; and so, being too weary and old in service to -remain awake thinking, I fell asleep, and slept; soundly till a little -after four. - -My first business on rising was to see that the men before mounting made -a meal, for it is ill work fighting empty. I went round also and saw -that all had their arms, and that such as carried pistols had them -loaded and primed. Francois did not put in an appearance until this work -was done, and then showed a very pale and gloomy countenance. I took no -heed of him, however, and with the first streak of daylight we started -in single file and at a snail's pace up the valley, the peasant, whom I -placed in Maignan's charge, going before to guide us, and M. d'Agen and -I riding in the rear. By the time the sun rose and warmed our chilled -and shivering frames we were over the worst of the ground, and were able -to advance at some speed along a track cut through a dense forest of -oak-trees. - -Though we had now risen out of the valley, the close-set trunks and the -undergrowth round them prevented our seeing in any direction. For a mile -or more we rode on blindly, and presently started on finding ourselves -on the brow of a hill, looking down into a valley, the nearer end of -which was clothed in woods, while the farther widened into green sloping -pastures. From the midst of these a hill or mount rose sharply up, -until it ended in walls of grey stone scarce to be distinguished at that -distance from the native rock on which they stood. - -'See!' cried our guide. 'There is the castle!' - -Bidding the men dismount in haste, that the chance of our being seen by -the enemy--which was not great--might be farther lessened, I began to -inspect the position at leisure; my first feeling while doing so being -one of thankfulness that I had not attempted a night attack, which -must inevitably have miscarried, possibly with loss to ourselves, and -certainly with the result of informing the enemy of our presence. The -castle, of which we had a tolerable view, was long and narrow in shape, -consisting of two towers connected by walls, The nearer tower, through -which lay the entrance, was roofless, and in every way seemed to be more -ruinous than the inner one, which appeared to be perfect in both its -stories. This defect notwithstanding, the place was so strong that my -heart sank lower the longer I looked; and a glance at Maignan's face -assured me that his experience was also at fault. For M. d'Agen, I -clearly saw, when I turned to him, that he had never until this moment -realised what we had to expect, but, regarding our pursuit in the light -of a hunting-party, had looked to see it end in like easy fashion. His -blank, surprised face, as he stood eyeing the stout grey walls, said as -much as this. - -'Arnidieu!' Maignan muttered, 'give me ten men, and I would hold it -against a hundred!' - -'Tut, man, There is more than one way to Rome!' I answered oracularly, -though I was far from feeling as confident as I seemed. 'Come, let us -descend and view this nut a little nearer.' - -We began to trail downwards in silence, and as the path let us for a -while, out of sight of the castle, we were able to proceed with less -caution. We had nearly reached without adventure the father skirts of -the wood, between which and the ruin lay an interval of open ground, -when we came suddenly, at the edge of a little clearing, on an old hag; -who was so intent; upon tying up faggots that she did not see us until -Maignan's hand was on her shoulder. When she did, she screamed out, and -escaping from him with an activity wonderful in a woman of her age, ran -with great swiftness to the side of an old man who lay at the foot of a -tree half a bowshot off; and whom we had not before seen. Snatching up -an axe, she put herself in a posture of defence before him with gestures -and in a manner as touching in the eyes of some among us as they were -ludicrous in those of others; who cried to Maignan that he had met his -match at last, with other gibes of the kind that pass current in camps. - -I called to him to let her be, and went forward myself to the old man, -who lay on a rude bed of leaves, and seemed unable to rise. Appealing -to me with a face of agony not to hurt his wife, he bade her again and -again lay down her axe; but she would not do this until I had assured -her that we meant him no harm, and that my men should molest neither the -one nor the other. - -'We only want to know this,' I said, speaking slowly, in fear lest my -language should be little more intelligible to them than their PATOIS to -me. 'There are a dozen horsemen in the old castle there, are there not?' - -The man stilled his wife, who continued to chatter and mow at us, and -answered eagerly that there were; adding, with a trembling oath, that -the robbers had beaten him, robbed him of his small store of meal, and -when he would have protested, thrown him out, breaking his leg. - -'Then how came you here?' I said. - -'She brought me on her back,' he answered feebly. - -Doubtless there were men in my train who would have done all that these -others had done; but hearing the simple story told, they stamped and -swore great oaths of indignation; and one, the roughest of the party, -took out some black bread and gave it to the woman, whom under other -circumstances he would not have hesitated to rob. Maignan, who knew -all arts appertaining to war, examined the man's leg and made a kind of -cradle for it, while I questioned the woman. - -'They are there still?' I said. 'I saw their horses tethered under the -walls.' - -'Yes, God requite them!' she answered, trembling violently. - -'Tell me about the castle, my good woman,' I said. 'How many roads into -it are there?' - -'Only one.' - -'Through the nearer tower?' - -She said yes, and finding that she understood me, and was less dull of -intellect than her wretched appearance led me to expect, I put a series -of questions to her which it would be tedious to detail. Suffice it -that I learned that it was impossible to enter or leave the ruin except -through the nearer tower; that a rickety temporary gate barred the -entrance, and that from this tower, which was a mere shell of four -walls, a narrow square-headed doorway without a door led into the court, -beyond which rose the habitable tower of two stories. - -'Do you know if they intend to stay there?' I asked - -'Oh, ay, they bade me bring them faggots for their fire this morning, -and I should have a handful of my own meal back,' she answered bitterly; -and fell thereon into a passion of impotent rage, shaking both her -clenched hands in the direction of the castle, and screaming frenzied -maledictions in her cracked and quavering voice. - -I pondered awhile over what she had said; liking very little the thought -of that narrow square-headed doorway through which we must pass before -we could effect anything. And the gate, too, troubled me. It might not -be a strong one, but we had neither powder, nor guns, nor any siege -implements, and could not pull down stone walls with our naked hands. By -seizing the horses we could indeed cut off Bruhl's retreat; but he might -still escape in the night; and in any case our pains would only increase -the women's hardships while adding fuel to his rage. We must have some -other plan. - -The sun was high by this time; the edge of the wood scarcely a hundred -paces from us. By advancing a few yards through the trees I could see -the horses feeding peacefully at the foot of the sunny slope, and even -follow with my eyes the faint track which zigzagged up the hill to -the closed gate. No one appeared--doubtless they were sleeping off -the fatigue of the journey--and I drew no inspiration thence; but as -I turned to consult Maignan my eye lit on the faggots, and I saw in a -flash that here was a chance of putting into practice a stratagem as old -as the hills, yet ever fresh, and not seldom successful. - -It was no time for over-refinement. My knaves were beginning to stray -forward out of curiosity, and at any moment one of our horses, scenting -those of the enemy, might neigh and give the alarm. Hastily calling -M. d'Agen and Maignan to me, I laid my plan before them, and satisfied -myself that it had their approval; the fact that I had reserved a -special part for the former serving to thaw the reserve which had -succeeded to his outbreak of the night before. After some debate Maignan -persuaded me that the old woman had not sufficient nerve to play the -part I proposed for her, and named Fanchette; who being called into -council, did not belie the opinion we had formed of her courage. In -a few moments our preparations were complete: I had donned the old -charcoal-burner's outer rags, Fanchette had assumed those of the woman, -while M. d'Agen, who was for a time at a loss, and betrayed less taste -for this part of the plan than for any other, ended by putting on the -jerkin and hose of the man who had served us as guide. - -When all was ready I commended the troop to Maignan's discretion, -charging him in the event of anything happening to us to continue the -most persistent efforts for mademoiselle's release, and on no account -to abandon her. Having received his promise to this effect, and being -satisfied that he would keep it, we took up each of us a great faggot, -which being borne on the head and shoulders served to hide the features -very effectually; and thus disguised we boldly left the shelter of the -trees. Fanchette and I went first, tottering in a most natural fashion -under the weight of our burdens, while M. d'Agen followed a hundred -yards behind. I had given Maignan orders to make a dash for the gate the -moment he saw the last named start to run. - -The perfect stillness of the valley, the clearness of the air, and the -absence of any sign of life in the castle before us--which might have -been that of the Sleeping Princess, so fairy-like it looked against the -sky--with the suspense and excitement in our own breasts, which these -peculiarities seemed to increase a hundred-fold, made the time that -followed one of the strangest in my experience. It was nearly ten -o'clock, and the warm sunshine flooding everything about us rendered -the ascent, laden as we were, laborious in the extreme. The crisp, -short turf, which had scarcely got its spring growth, was slippery and -treacherous. We dared not hasten, for we knew not what eyes were upon -us, and we dared as little after we had gone half-way--lay our faggots -down, lest the action should disclose too much of our features. - -When we had reached a point within a hundred paces of the gate, which -still remained obstinately closed, we stood to breathe ourselves, and -balancing my bundle on my head, I turned to make sure that all was right -behind us. I found that M. d'Agen, intent on keeping his distance, -had chosen the same moment for rest, and was sitting in a very natural -manner on his faggot, mopping his face with the sleeve of his jerkin. -I scanned the brown leafless wood, in which we had left Maignan and our -men; but I could detect no glitter among the trees nor any appearance -likely to betray us. Satisfied on these points, I muttered a few -words of encouragement to Fanchette, whose face was streaming with -perspiration; and together we turned and addressed ourselves to our -task, fatigue--for we had had no practice in carrying burdens on the -head--enabling us to counterfeit the decrepitude of age almost to the -life. - -The same silence prevailing as we drew nearer inspired me with not a few -doubts and misgivings. Even the bleat of a sheep would have been welcome -in the midst of a stillness which seemed ominous. But no sheep bleated, -no voice hailed us. The gate, ill-hung and full of fissures, remained -closed. Step by step we staggered up to it, and at length reached it. -Afraid to speak lest my accent should betray me, I struck the forepart -of my faggot against it and waited: doubting whether our whole stratagem -had not been perceived from the beginning, and a pistol-shot might not -be the retort. - -Nothing of the kind happened, however. The sound of the blow, which -echoed dully through the building, died away, and the old silence -resumed its sway. We knocked again, but fully two minutes elapsed before -a grumbling voice, as of a man aroused from sleep, was heard drawing -near, and footsteps came slowly and heavily to the gate. Probably the -fellow inspected us through a loophole, for he paused a moment, and my -heart sank; but the next, seeing nothing suspicious, he unbarred the -gate with a querulous oath, and, pushing it open, bade us enter and be -quick about it. - -I stumbled forward into the cool, dark shadow, and the woman followed -me, while the man, stepping out with a yawn, stood in the entrance, -stretching himself in the sunshine. The roofless tower, which smelled -dank and unwholesome, was empty, or cumbered only with rubbish and heaps -of stones; but looking through the inner door I saw in the courtyard a -smouldering fire and half a dozen men in the act of rousing themselves -from sleep. I stood a second balancing my faggot, as if in doubt where -to lay it down; and then assuring myself by a swift glance that the man -who had let us in still had his back towards us, I dropped it across the -inner doorway, Fanchette, as she had been instructed, plumped hers upon -it, and at the same moment I sprang to the door, and taking the man -there by surprise, dealt him a violent blow between the shoulders, which -sent him headlong down the slope. - -A cry behind me, followed by an oath of alarm, told me that the action -was observed and that now was the pinch. In a second I was back at the -faggots, and drawing a pistol from under my blouse was in time to meet -the rush of the nearest man, who, comprehending all, sprang up, and made -for me, with his sheathed sword. I shot him in the chest as he cleared -the faggots--which, standing nearly as high as a man's waist, formed a -tolerable obstacle--and he pitched forward at my feet. - -This balked his companions, who drew back; but unfortunately it was -necessary for me to stoop to get my sword, which was hidden in the -faggot I had carried. The foremost of the rascals took advantage of -this. Rushing at me with a long knife, he failed to stab me--for I -caught his wrist--but he succeeded in bringing me to the ground. I -thought I was undone. I looked to have the others swarm over upon us; -and so it would doubtless have happened had not Fanchette, with rare -courage, dealt the first who followed a lusty blow on the body with a -great stick she snatched up. The man collapsed on the faggots, and this -hampered the rest. The check was enough. It enabled M. d'Agen to come -up, who, dashing in through the gate, shot down the first he saw before -him, and running at the doorway with his sword with incredible fury and -the courage which I had always known him to possess, cleared it in a -twinkling. The man with whom I was engaged on the ground, seeing what -had happened, wrested himself free with the strength of despair, and -dashing through the outer door, narrowly escaped being ridden down by my -followers as they swept up to the gate at a gallop, and dismounted amid -a whirlwind of cries. - -In a moment they thronged in on us pell-mell, and as soon as I could lay -my hand on my sword I led them through the doorway with a cheer, hoping -to be able to enter the farther tower with the enemy. But the latter had -taken the alarm too early and too thoroughly. The court was empty. We -were barely in time to see the last man dart up a flight of outside -stairs, which led to the first story, and disappear, closing a heavy -door behind him. I rushed to the foot of the steps and would have -ascended also, hoping against hope to find the door unsecured; but a -shot which was fired through a loop hole and narrowly missed my head, -and another which brought down one of my men, made me pause. Discerning -all the advantage to be on Bruhl's side, since he could shoot us down -from his cover, I cried a retreat; the issue of the matter leaving -us masters of the entrance-tower, while they retained the inner and -stronger tower, the narrow court between the two being neutral ground -unsafe for either party. - -Two of their men had fled outwards and were gone, and two lay dead; -while the loss on our side was confined to the man who was shot, and -Fanchette, who had received a blow on the head in the MELEE, and was -found, when we retreated, lying sick and dazed against the wall. - -It surprised me much, when I came to think upon it, that I had seen -nothing of Bruhl, though the skirmish had lasted two or three minutes -from the first outcry, and been attended by an abundance of noise. Of -Fresnoy, too, I now remembered that I had caught a glimpse only. These -two facts seemed so strange that I was beginning to augur the worst, -though I scarcely know why, when my spirits were marvellously raised and -my fears relieved by a thing which Maignan, who was the first to notice -it, pointed out to me. This was the appearance at an upper window of a -white 'kerchief, which was waved several times towards us. The window -was little more than an arrow-slit, and so narrow and high besides -that it was impossible to see who gave the signal; but my experience of -mademoiselle's coolness and resource left me in no doubt on the point. -With high hopes and a lighter heart than I had worn for some time I -bestirred myself to take every precaution, and began by bidding Maignan -select two men and ride round the hill, to make sure that the enemy had -no way of retreat open to him. - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. PESTILENCE AND FAMINE. - -While Maignan was away about this business I despatched two men to catch -our horses, which were running loose in the valley, and to remove those -of Bruhl's party to a safe distance from the castle. I also blocked up -the lower part of the door leading into the courtyard, and named four -men to remain under arms beside it, that we might not be taken by -surprise; an event of which I had the less fear, however, since the -enemy were now reduced to eight swords, and could only escape, as we -could only enter, through this doorway. I was still busied with these -arrangements when M. d'Agen joined me, and I broke off to compliment him -on his courage, acknowledging in particular the service he had done me -personally. The heat of the conflict had melted the young man's reserve, -and flushed his face with pride; but as he listened to me he gradually -froze again, and when I ended he regarded me with the same cold -hostility. - -'I am obliged to you,' he said, bowing. 'But may I ask what next, M. de -Marsac?' - -'We have no choice,' I answered. 'We can only starve them out.' - -'But the ladies?' he said, starting slightly. 'What of them?' - -'They will suffer less than the men,' I replied. 'Trust me, the latter -will not bear starving long.' - -He seemed surprised, but I explained that with our small numbers we -could not hope to storm the tower, and might think ourselves fortunate -that we now had the enemy cooped up where he could not escape, and must -eventually surrender. - -'Ay, but in the meantime how will you ensure the women against -violence?' he asked, with an air which showed he was far from satisfied. - -'I will see to that when Maignan comes back,' I answered pretty -confidently. - -The equerry appeared in a moment with the assurance that egress from the -farther side of the tower was impossible. I bade him nevertheless keep -a horseman moving round the hill, that we might have intelligence of -any attempt. The order was scarcely given when a man--one of those I had -left on guard at the door of the courtyard--came to tell me that Fresnoy -desired to speak with me on behalf of M. de Bruhl. - -'Where is he?' I asked. - -'At the inner door with a flag of truce,' was the answer. - -'Tell him, then,' I said, without offering to move, 'that I will -communicate with no one except his leader, M. de Bruhl. And add this, -my friend,' I continued. 'Say it aloud that if the ladies whom he has -in charge are injured by so much as a hair, I will hang every man within -these walls, from M. de Bruhl to the youngest lackey.' And I added a -solemn oath to that effect. - -The man nodded, and went on his errand, while I and M. d'Agen, with -Maignan, remained standing outside the gate, looking idly over the -valley and the brown woods through which we had ridden in the early -morning. My eyes rested chiefly on the latter, Maignan's as it proved on -the former. Doubtless we all had our own thoughts. Certainly I had, -and for a while, in my satisfaction at the result of the attack and -the manner in which we had Bruhl confined, I did not remark the gravity -which was gradually overspreading the equerry's countenance. When I did -I took the alarm, and asked him sharply what was the matter. 'I don't -like that, your Excellency,' he answered, pointing into the valley. - -I looked anxiously, and looked, and saw nothing. - -'What?' I said in astonishment. - -'The blue mist,' he muttered, with a shiver. 'I have been watching it -this half-hour, your Excellency. It is rising fast.' - -I cried out on him for a maudlin fool, and M. d'Agen swore impatiently; -but for all that, and despite the contempt I strove to exhibit, I felt -a sudden chill at my heart as I recognised in the valley below the same -blue haze which had attended us through yesterday's ride, and left us -only at nightfall. Involuntarily we both fell to watching it as it -rose slowly and more slowly, first enveloping the lower woods, and then -spreading itself abroad in the sunshine. It is hard to witness a bold -man's terror and remain unaffected by it; and I confess I trembled. -Here, in the moment of our seeming success, was something which I had -not taken into account, something against which I could not guard either -myself or others! - -'See!' Maignan whispered hoarsely, pointing again with his linger. 'It -is the Angel of Death, your Excellency! Where he kills by ones and twos, -he is invisible. But when he slays by hundreds and by thousands, men see -the shadow of his wings!' - -'Chut, fool!' I retorted with, anger, which was secretly proportioned to -the impression his weird saying made on me. 'You have been in battles! -Did you ever see him there? or at a sack? A truce to this folly,' I -continued. 'And do you go and inquire what food we have with us. It may -be necessary to send for some.' - -I watched him go doggedly off, and knowing the stout nature of the man -and his devotion to his master, I had no fear that he would fail us; but -there were others, almost as necessary to us, in whom I could not place -the same confidence. And these had also taken the alarm. When I turned I -found groups of pale-faced men, standing by twos and threes at my back; -who, pointing and muttering and telling one another what Maignan had -told us, looked where we had looked. As one spoke and another listened, -I saw the old panic revive in their eyes. Men who an hour or two before -had crossed the court under fire with the utmost resolution, and dared -instant death without a thought, grew pale, and looking from this side -of the valley to that; with faltering eyes, seemed to be seeking, like -hunted animals, a place of refuge. Fear, once aroused, hung in the -air. Men talked in whispers of the abnormal heat, and, gazing at the -cloudless sky, fled from the sunshine to the shadow; or, looking over -the expanse of woods, longed to be under cover and away from this lofty -eyrie, which to their morbid eyes seemed a target for all the shafts of -death. - -'I was not slow to perceive the peril with which these fears and -apprehensions, which rapidly became general, threatened my plans. I -strove to keep the men employed, and to occupy their thoughts as far as -possible with the enemy and his proceedings; but I soon found that even -here a danger lurked; for Maignan, coming to me by-and-by with a -grave face, told me that one of Bruhl's men had ventured out, and was -parleying with the guard on our side of the court. I went at once and -broke the matter off, threatening to shoot the fellow if he was not -under cover before I counted ten. But the scared, sultry faces he left -behind him told me that the mischief was done, and I could think of no -better remedy for it than to give M. d'Agen a hint, and station him at -the outer gate with his pistols ready. - -The question of provisions, too, threatened to become a serious one; I -dared not leave to procure them myself, nor could I trust any of my -men with the mission. In fact the besiegers were rapidly becoming the -besieged. Intent on the rising haze and their own terrors, they forgot -all else. Vigilance and caution were thrown to the winds. The stillness -of the valley, its isolation, the distant woods that encircled us and -hung quivering in the heated air, all added to the panic. Despite all -my efforts and threats, the men gradually left their posts, and getting -together in little parties at the gate, worked themselves up to such a -pitch of dread that by two hours after noon they were fit for any folly; -and at the mere cry of 'plague!' would have rushed to their horses and -ridden in every direction. - -It was plain that I could depend for useful service on myself and three -others only--of whom, to his credit be it said, Simon Fleix was one. -Seeing this, I was immensely relieved when I presently heard that -Fresnoy was again seeking to speak with me. I was no longer, it will be -believed, for standing on formalities; but glad to waive in silence the -punctilio on which I had before insisted, and anxious to afford him no -opportunity of marking the slackness which prevailed among my men, I -hastened to meet him at the door of the courtyard where Maignan had -detained him. - -I might have spared my pains, however. I had no more than saluted him -and exchanged the merest preliminaries before I saw that he was in a -state of panic far exceeding that of my following. His coarse face, -which had never been prepossessing, was mottled and bedabbled with -sweat; his bloodshot eyes, when they met mine, wore the fierce yet -terrified expression of an animal caught in a trap. Though his first -word was an oath, sworn for the purpose of raising his courage, the -bully's bluster was gone. He spoke in a low voice, and his hands shook; -and for a penny-piece I saw he would have bolted past me and taken his -chance in open flight. - -I judged from his first words, uttered, as I have said, with an oath, -that he was aware of his state. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, whining like a -cur, 'you know me, to be a man of courage.' - -I needed nothing after this to assure me that he meditated something of -the basest; and I took care how I answered him. 'I have known you stiff -enough upon occasions,' I replied drily. 'And then, again, I have known -you not so stiff, M. Fresnoy.' - -'Only when you were in question,' he muttered with another oath. 'But -flesh and blood cannot stand this. You could not yourself. Between -him and them I am fairly worn out. Give me good terms--good terms, you -understand, M. de Marsac?' he whispered eagerly, sinking his voice still -lower, 'and you shall have all you want.' - -'Your lives, and liberty to go where you please,' I answered coldly. -'The two ladies to be first given up to me uninjured. Those are the -terms.' - -'But for me?' he said anxiously. - -'For you? The same as the others,' I retorted. 'Or I will make a -distinction for old acquaintance sake, M. Fresnoy; and if the ladies -have aught to complain of, I will hang you first.' - -He tried to bluster and hold out for a sum of money, or at least for -his horse to be given up to him. But I had made up my mind to reward my -followers with a present of a horse apiece; and I was besides well aware -that this was only an afterthought on his part, and that he had fully -decided to yield. I stood fast, therefore. The result justified my -firmness, for he presently agreed to surrender on those terms. - -'Ay, but M. de Bruhl?' I said, desiring to learn clearly whether he had -authority to treat for all. 'What of him?' - -He looked at me impatiently. 'Come and see!' he said, with an ugly -sneer. - -'No, no, my friend,' I answered, shaking my head warily. 'That is not -according to rule. You are the surrendering party, and it is for you to -trust us. Bring out the ladies, that I may have speech with them, and -then I will draw off my men.' - -'Nom de Dieu!' he cried hoarsely, with so much fear and rage in his face -that I recoiled from him. 'That is just what I cannot do.' - -'You cannot?' I rejoined with a sudden thrill of horror. 'Why not? why -not, man?' And in the excitement of the moment, conceiving the idea that -the worst had happened to the women, I pushed him back with so much fury -that he laid his hand on his sword. - -'Confound you!' he stuttered, 'stand back! It is not that, I tell you! -Mademoiselle is safe and sound, and madame, if she had her senses, would -be sound too. It is not our fault if she is not. But I have not got the -key of the rooms. It is in Bruhl's pocket, I tell you!' - -'Oh!' I made answer drily. 'And Bruhl?' - -'Hush, man,' Fresnoy replied, wiping the perspiration from his brow, and -bringing his pallid, ugly face, near to mine, 'he has got the plague!' - -I stared at him for a moment in silence; which he was the first to -break. 'Hush!' he muttered again, laying a trembling hand on my arm, -'if the men knew it--and not seeing him they are beginning to suspect -it--they would rise on us. The devil himself could not keep them here. -Between him and them I am on a razor's edge. Madame is with him, and -the door is locked. Mademoiselle is in a room upstairs, and the door -is locked. And he has the keys. What can I do? What can I do, man?' he -cried, his voice hoarse with terror and dismay. - -'Get the keys,' I said instinctively. - -'What?' From him?' he muttered, with an irrepressible shudder, which -shook his bloated cheeks. 'God forbid I should see him! It takes -stout men infallibly. I should be dead by night! By God, I should!' he -continued, whining. 'Now you are not stout, M. de Marsac. If you will -come with me I will draw off the men from that part; and you may go in -and get the key from him.' - -His terror, which surpassed all feeling, and satisfied me without doubt -that he was in earnest, was so intense that it could not fail to infect -me. I felt my face, as I looked into his, grow to the same hue. I -trembled as he did and grew sick. For if there is a word which blanches -the soldier's cheek and tries his heart more than another, it is the -name of the disease which travels in the hot noonday, and, tainting the -strongest as he rides in his pride, leaves him in a few hours a poor -mass of corruption. The stoutest and the most reckless fear it; nor -could I, more than another, boast myself indifferent to it, or think of -its presence without shrinking. But the respect in which a man of birth -holds himself saves him from the unreasoning fear which masters the -vulgar; and in a moment I recovered myself, and made up my mind what it -behoved me to do. - -'Wait awhile,' I said sternly, 'and I will come with you.' - -He waited accordingly, though with manifest impatience, while I sent -for M. d'Agen, and communicated to him what I was about to do. I did not -think it necessary to enter into details, or to mention Bruhl's state, -for some of the men were well in hearing. I observed that the young -gentleman received my directions with a gloomy and dissatisfied air. But -I had become by this time so used to his moods, and found myself so -much mistaken in his character, that I scarcely gave the matter a second -thought. I crossed the court with Fresnoy, and in a moment had mounted -the outside staircase and passed through the heavy doorway. - -The moment I entered, I was forced to do Fresnoy the justice of -admitting that he had not come to me before he was obliged. The three -men who were on guard inside tossed down their weapons at sight of me, -while a fourth, who was posted at a neighbouring window, hailed me with -a cry of relief. From the moment I crossed the threshold the defence was -practically at an end. I might, had I chosen or found it consistent with -honour, have called in my following and secured the entrance. Without -pausing, however, I passed on to the foot of a gloomy stone staircase -winding up between walls of rough masonry; and here Fresnoy stood on one -side and stopped. He pointed upwards with a pale face and muttered,'The -door on the left.' - -Leaving him there watching me as I went upwards, I mounted slowly to the -landing, and by the light of an arrow-slit which dimly lit the ruinous -place found the door he had described, and tried it with my hand. It -was locked, but I heard someone moan in the room, and a step crossed -the floor, as if he or another came to the door and listened. I knocked, -hearing my heart beat in the silence. At last a voice quite strange to -me cried, 'Who is it?' - -'A friend,' I muttered, striving to dull my voice that they might not -hear me below. - -'A friend!' the bitter answer came. 'Go! You have made a mistake! We -have no friends.' - -'It is I, M. de Marsac,' I rejoined, knocking more imperatively. 'I -would see M. de Bruhl. I must see him.' - -The person inside, at whose identity I could now make a guess, uttered -a low exclamation, and still seemed to hesitate. But on my repeating my -demand I heard a rusty bolt withdrawn, and Madame de Bruhl, opening the -door a few inches, showed her face in the gap. 'What do you want?' she -murmured jealously. - -Prepared as I was to see her, I was shocked by the change in her -appearance, a change which even that imperfect light failed to hide. Her -blue eyes had grown larger and harder, and there were dark marks under -them. Her face, once so brilliant, was grey and pinched; her hair had -lost its golden lustre. 'What do you want?' she repeated, eyeing me -fiercely. - -'To see him,' I answered. - -'You know?' she muttered. 'You know that he--' - -I nodded. - -And you still want to come in? My God! Swear you will not hurt him?' - -'Heaven forbid!' I said; and on that she held the door open that I might -enter. But I was not half-way across the room before she had passed me, -and was again between me and the wretched makeshift pallet. Nay, when -I stood and looked down at him, as he moaned and rolled in senseless -agony, with livid face and distorted features (which the cold grey light -of that miserable room rendered doubly appalling), she hung over him and -fenced him from me: so that looking on him and her, and remembering how -he had treated her, and why he came to be in this place, I felt unmanly -tears rise to my eyes. The room was still a prison, a prison with broken -mortar covering the floor and loopholes for windows; but the captive was -held by other chains than those of force. When she might have gone free, -her woman's love surviving all that he had done to kill it, chained -her to his side with fetters which old wrongs and present danger were -powerless to break. - -It was impossible that I could view a scene so strange without feelings -of admiration as well as pity; or without forgetting for a while, in -my respect for Madame de Bruhl's devotion, the risk which had seemed so -great to me on the stairs. I had come simply for a purpose of my own, -and with no thought of aiding him who lay here. But so great, as I -have noticed on other occasions, is the power of a noble example, that, -before I knew it, I found myself wondering what I could do to help this -man, and how I could relieve madame, in the discharge of offices which -her husband had as little right to expect at her hands as at mine. At -the mere sound of the word Plague I knew she would be deserted in this -wilderness by all, or nearly all; a reflection which suggested to me -that I should first remove mademoiselle to a distance, and then consider -what help I could afford here. - -I was about to tell her the purpose with which I had come when a -paroxysm more than ordinarily violent, and induced perhaps by the -excitement of my presence--though he seemed beside himself--seized him, -and threatened to tax her powers to the utmost. I could not look on and -see her spend herself in vain; and almost before I knew what I was doing -I had laid my hands on him and after a brief struggle thrust him back -exhausted on the couch. - -She looked at me so strangely after that that in the half-light which -the loopholes afforded I tried in vain to read her meaning. 'Why did you -come?' she cried at length, breathing quickly. 'You, of all men? Why did -you come? He was no friend of yours, Heaven knows!' - -'No, madame, nor I of his,' I answered bitterly, with a sudden revulsion -of feeling. - -'Then why are you here?' she retorted. - -'I could not send one of my men,' I answered. 'And I want the key of the -room above.' - -At the mention of that the room above--she flinched as if I had struck -her, and looked as strangely at Bruhl as she had before looked at me. No -doubt the reference to Mademoiselle de la Vire recalled to her mind -her husband's wild passion for the girl, which for the moment she had -forgotten. Nevertheless she did not speak, though her face turned very -pale. She stooped over the couch, such as it was, and searching his -clothes, presently stood up, and held out the key to me. 'Take it, and -let her out,' she said with a forced smile. 'Take it up yourself, and do -it. You have done so much for her it is right that you should do this.' - -I took the key, thanking her with more haste than thought, and turned -towards the door, intending to go straight up to the floor above and -release mademoiselle. My hand was already on the door, which madame, I -found, had left ajar in the excitement of my entrance, when I heard her -step behind me. The next instant she touched me on the shoulder. 'You -fool!' she exclaimed, her eyes flashing, 'would you kill her?' Would you -go from him to her, and take the plague to her? God forgive me, it was -in my mind to send you. And men are such puppets you would have gone!' - -I trembled with horror, as much at my stupidity as at her craft. For she -was right: in another moment I should have gone, and comprehension and -remorse would have come too late. As it was, in my longing at once -to reproach her for her wickedness and to thank her for her timely -repentance, I found no words; but I turned away in silence and went out -with a full heart. - - - -CHAPTER XXX. STRICKEN. - -Outside the door, standing in the dimness of the landing, I found M. -d'Agen. At any other time I should have been the first to ask him why he -had left the post which I had assigned to him. But at the moment I was -off my balance, and his presence suggested nothing more than that here -was the very person who could best execute my wishes. I held out the key -to him at arms length, and bade him release Mademoiselle de la Vire, who -was in the room above, and escort her out of the castle. 'Do not let -her linger here,' I continued urgently. 'Take her to the place where we -found the wood-cutters. You need fear no resistance.' - -'But Bruhl?' he said, as he took the key mechanically from me. - -'He is out of the question,' I answered in a low voice. 'We have done -with him. He has the plague.' - -He uttered a sharp exclamation. 'What of madame, then?' he muttered. - -'She is with him,' I said. - -He cried out suddenly at that, sucking in his breath, as I have known -men do in pain. And but that I drew back he would have laid his hand on -my sleeve. 'With him?' he stammered. 'How is that?' - -'Why, man, where else should she be?' I answered, forgetting that the -sight of those two together had at first surprised me also, as well as -moved me. 'Or who else should be with him? He is her husband.' - -He stared at me for a moment at that, and then he turned slowly away -and began to go up; while I looked after him, gradually thinking out the -clue to his conduct. Could it be that it was not mademoiselle attracted -him, but Madame de Bruhl? - -And with that hint I understood it all. I saw in a moment; the -conclusion to which he had come on hearing of the presence of madame -in my room. In my room at night! The change had dated from that time; -instead of a careless, light-spirited youth he had become in a moment -a morose and restive churl, as difficult to manage as an unbroken colt. -Quite clearly I saw now the meaning of the change; why he had shrunk -from me, and why all intercourse between us had been so difficult; and -so constrained. - -I laughed to think how he had deceived himself, and how nearly I had -come to deceiving myself also. And what more I might have thought I -do not know, for my meditations were cut short at this point by a loud -outcry below, which, beginning in one or two sharp cries of alarm and -warning, culminated quickly in a roar of anger and dismay. - -Fancying I recognised Maignan's voice, I ran down the stairs, seeking -a loophole whence I could command the scene; but finding none, and -becoming more and more alarmed, I descended to the court, which I -found, to my great surprise, as empty and silent as an old battle-field. -Neither on the enemy's side nor on ours was a single man to be seen. -With growing dismay I sprang across the court and darted through the -outer tower, only to find that and the gateway equally unguarded. Nor -was it until I had passed through the latter, and stood on the brow of -the slope, which we had had to clamber with so much toil, that I learned -what was amiss. - -Far below me a string of men, bounding and running at speed, streamed -down the hill towards the horses. Some were shouting, some running -silently, with their elbows at their sides and their scabbards leaping -against their calves. The horses stood tethered in a ring near the edge -of the wood, and by some oversight had been left unguarded. The foremost -runner I made out to be Fresnoy; but a number of his men were close -upon him, and then after an interval came Maignan, waving his blade and -emitting frantic threats with every stride. Comprehending at once -that Fresnoy and his following, rendered desperate by panic and the -prospective loss of their horses, had taken advantage of my absence and -given Maignan the slip, I saw I could do nothing save watch the result -of the struggle. - -This was not long delayed. Maignan's threats, which seemed to me mere -waste of breath, were not without effect on those he followed. There -is nothing which demoralises men like flight. Troopers who have stood -charge after charge while victory was possible will fly like sheep, and -like sheep allow themselves to be butchered, when they have once turned -the back. So it was here. Many of Fresnoy's men were stout fellows, -but having started to run they had no stomach for fighting. Their fears -caused Maignan to appear near, while the horses seemed distant; and one -after another they turned aside and made like rabbits for the wood. -Only Fresnoy, who had taken care to have the start of all, kept on, -and, reaching the horses, cut the rope which tethered the nearest, and -vaulted nimbly on its back. Safely seated there, he tried to frighten -the others into breaking loose; but not succeeding at the first attempt, -and seeing Maignan, breathing vengeance, coming up with him, he started -his horse, a bright bay, and rode off laughing along the edge of the -wood. - -Fully content with the result--for our carelessness might have cost -us very dearly--I was about to turn away when I saw that Maignan had -mounted and was preparing to follow. I stayed accordingly to see the -end, and from my elevated position enjoyed a first-rate view of the race -which ensued. Both were heavy weights, and at first Maignan gained no -ground. But when a couple of hundred yards had been covered Fresnoy had -the ill-luck to blunder into some heavy ground, and this enabling his -pursuer, who had time to avoid it, to get within two-score paces of him, -the race became as exciting as I could wish. Slowly and surely Maignan, -who had chosen the Cid, reduced the distance between them to a score of -paces--to fifteen--to ten. Then Fresnoy, becoming alarmed, began to look -over his shoulder and ride in earnest. He had no whip, and I saw him -raise his sheathed sword, and strike his beast on the flank. It sprang -forward, and appeared for a few strides to be holding its own. Again he -repeated the blow but this time with a different result. While his hand -was still in the air, his horse stumbled, as it seemed to me, made a -desperate effort to recover itself, fell headlong and rolled over and -over. - -Something in the fashion of the fall, which reminded me of the mishap I -had suffered on the way to Chize led me to look more particularly at the -horse as it rose trembling to its feet, and stood with drooping head. -Sure enough, a careful glance enabled me, even at that distance, to -identify it as Matthew's bay--the trick-horse. Shading my eyes, and -gazing on the scene with increased interest, I saw Maignan, who had -dismounted, stoop over something on the ground, and again after an -interval stand upright. - -But Fresnoy did not rise. Nor was it without awe that, guessing what had -happened to him, I remembered how he had used this very horse to befool -me; how heartlessly he had abandoned Matthew, its owner; and by what -marvellous haps--which men call chances--Providence had brought it to -this place, and put it in his heart to choose it out of a score which -stood ready to his hand! - -I was right. The man's neck was broken. He was quite dead. Maignan -passed the word to one, and he to another, and so it reached me on the -hill. It did not fail to awaken memories both grave and wholesome. -I thought of St. Jean d'Angely, of Chize, of the house in the Ruelle -d'Arcy; then in the midst of these reflections I heard voices, and -turned to find mademoiselle, with M. d'Agen behind me. - -Her hand was still bandaged, and her dress, which she had not changed -since leaving Blois, was torn and stained with mud. Her hair was in -disorder; she walked with a limp. Fatigue and apprehension had stolen -the colour from her cheeks, and in a word she looked, when I turned, so -wan and miserable that for a moment I feared the plague had seized her. - -The instant, however, that she caught sight of me a wave of colour -invaded, not her cheeks only, but her brow and neck. From her hair -to the collar of her gown she was all crimson. For a second she stood -gazing at me, and then, as I saluted her, she sprang forward. Had I not -stepped back she would have taken my hands. - -My heart so overflowed with joy at this sight, that in the certainty her -blush gave me I was fain to toy with my happiness. All jealousy of M. -d'Agen was forgotten; only I thought it well not to alarm her by telling -her what I knew of the Bruhls. 'Mademoiselle,' I said earnestly, bowing, -but retreating from her, 'I thank God for your escape. One of your -enemies lies helpless here, and another is dead yonder.' - -'It is not of my enemies I am thinking,' she answered quickly, 'but of -God, of whom you rightly remind me; and then of my friends.' - -'Nevertheless,' I answered as quickly, 'I beg you will not stay to thank -them now, but go down to the wood with M. d'Agen, who will do all that -may be possible to make you comfortable.' - -'And you, sir?' she said, with a charming air of confusion. - -'I must stay here,' I answered, 'for a while.' - -'Why?' she asked with a slight frown. - -I did not know how to tell her, and I began lamely. 'Someone must stop -with madame,' I said without thought. - -'Madame?' she exclaimed. 'Does she require assistance? I will stop.' - -'God forbid!' I cried. - -I do not know how she understood the words, but her face, which had been -full of softness, grew hard. She moved quickly towards me; but, mindful -of the danger I carried about me, I drew farther back. 'No nearer, -mademoiselle,' I murmured, 'if you please.' - -She looked puzzled, and finally angry, turning away with a sarcastic -bow. 'So be it, then, sir,' she said proudly, 'if you desire it. M. -d'Agen, if you are not afraid of me, will you lead me down?' - -I stood and watched them go down the hill, comforting myself with the -reflection that to-morrow, or the next day, or within a few days at -most, all would be well. Scanning her figure as she moved, I fancied -that she went with less spirit as the space increased between us. And I -pleased myself with the notion. A few days, a few hours, I thought, and -all would be well. The sunset which blazed in the west was no more than -a faint reflection of the glow which for a few minutes pervaded my mind, -long accustomed to cold prospects and the chill of neglect. - -A term was put to these pleasant imaginings by the arrival of Maignan; -who, panting from the ascent of the hill, informed me with a shamefaced -air that the tale of horses was complete, but that four of our men were -missing, and had doubtless gone off with the fugitives. These proved -to be M. d'Agen's two lackeys and the two varlets M. de Rambouillet had -lent us. There remained besides Simon Fleix only Maignan's three men -from Rosny; but the state in which our affairs now stood enabled us to -make light of this. I informed the equerry--who visibly paled at the -news--that M. de Bruhl lay ill of the plague, and like to die; and I -bade him form a camp in the wood below, and, sending for food to -the house where we had slept the night before, make mademoiselle as -comfortable as circumstances permitted. - -He listened with surprise, and when I had done asked with concern what I -intended to do myself. - -'Someone must remain with Madam de Bruhl,' I answered. 'I have already -been to the bedside to procure the key of mademoiselle's room, and I run -no farther risk. All I ask is that you will remain in the neighbourhood, -and furnish us with supplies should it be necessary.' - -He looked at me with emotion, which, strongly in conflict with his fears -as it was, touched me not a little. 'But morbleu! M. de Marsac,' he -said, 'you will take the plague and die.' - -'If God wills,' I answered, very lugubriously I confess, for pale looks -in one commonly so fearless could not but depress me. 'But if not, I -shall escape. Any way, my friend,' I continued, 'I owe you a quittance. -Simon Fleix has an inkhorn and paper. Bid him bring them to this stone -and leave them, and I will write that Maignan, the equerry of the Baron -de Rosny, served me to the end as a brave soldier and an honest friend. -'What, MON AMI?' I continued, for I saw that he was overcome by this, -which was, indeed, a happy thought of mine. 'Why not? It is true, and -will acquit you with the Baron. Do it, and go. Advise M. d'Agen, and be -to him what you have been to me.' - -He swore two or three great oaths, such as men of his kind use to hide -an excess of feeling, and after some further remonstrance went away to -carry out my orders; leaving me to stand on the brow in a strange kind -of solitude, and watch horses and men withdraw to the wood, until the -whole valley seemed left to me and stillness and the grey evening. For -a time I stood in thought. Then reminding myself, for a fillip to my -spirits, that I had been far more alone when I walked the streets of St. -Jean friendless and threadbare (than I was now), I turned, and swinging -my scabbard against my boots for company, stumbled through the dark, -silent courtyard, and mounted as cheerfully as I could to madame's room. - -To detail all that passed during the next five days would be tedious -and in indifferent taste, seeing that I am writing this memoir for the -perusal of men of honour; for though I consider the offices which the -whole can perform for the sick to be worthy of the attention of every -man, however well born, who proposes to see service, they seem to be -more honourable in the doing than the telling. One episode, however, -which marked those days filled me then, as it does now, with the most -lively pleasure; and that was the unexpected devotion displayed by Simon -Fleix, who, coming to me, refused to leave, and showed himself at this -pinch to be possessed of such sterling qualities that I freely forgave -him the deceit he had formerly practised on me. The fits of moody -silence into which he still fell at times and an occasional irascibility -seemed to show that he had not altogether conquered his insane fancy; -but the mere fact that; he had come to me in a situation of hazard, and -voluntarily removed himself from mademoiselle's neighbourhood, gave me -good hope for the future. - -M. de Bruhl died early on the morning of the second day, and Simon and -I buried him at noon. He was a man of courage and address, lacking only -principles. In spite of madame's grief and prostration, which were as -great as though she had lost the best husband in the world, we removed -before night to a separate camp in the woods; and left with the utmost -relief the grey ruin on the hill, in which, it seemed to me, we had -lived an age. In our new bivouac, where, game being abundant, and the -weather warm, we lacked no comfort, except the society of our friends, -we remained four days longer. On the fifth morning we met the others of -our company by appointment on the north road, and commenced the return -journey. - -Thankful that we had escaped contagion, we nevertheless still proposed -to observe for a time such precautions in regard to the others as seemed -necessary; riding in the rear and having no communication with them, -though they showed by signs the pleasure they felt at seeing us. From -the frequency with which mademoiselle turned and looked behind her, -I judged she had overcome her pique at my strange conduct; which the -others should by this time have explained to her. Content, therefore, -with the present, and full of confidence in the future, I rode along in -a rare state of satisfaction; at one moment planning what I would do, -and at another reviewing what I had done. - -The brightness and softness of the day, and the beauty of the woods, -which in some places, I remember, were bursting into leaf, contributed -much to establish me in this frame of mind. The hateful mist, which -had so greatly depressed us, had disappeared; leaving the face of the -country visible in all the brilliance of early spring. The men who rode -before us, cheered by the happy omen, laughed and talked as they rode, -or tried the paces of their horses, where the trees grew sparsely; and -their jests and laughter coming pleasantly to our ears as we followed, -warmed even madame's sad face to a semblance of happiness. - -I was riding along in this state of contentment when a feeling of -fatigue, which the distance we had come did not seem to justify, led me -to spur the Cid into a brisker pace. The sensation of lassitude still -continued, however, and indeed grew worse; so that I wondered idly -whether I had over-eaten myself at my last meal. Then the thing passed -for awhile from my mind, which the descent of a steep hill sufficiently -occupied. - -But a few minutes later, happening to turn in the saddle, I experienced -a strange and sudden dizziness; so excessive as to force me to grasp the -cantle, and cling to it, while trees and hills appeared to dance round -me. A quick, hot pain in the side followed, almost before I recovered -the power of thought; and this increased so rapidly, and was from the -first so definite, that, with a dreadful apprehension already formed -in my mind, I thrust my hand inside my clothes, and found that swelling -which is the most sure and deadly symptom of the plague. - -The horror of that moment--in which I saw all those things on the -possession of which I had just been congratulating myself, pass -hopelessly from me, leaving me in dreadful gloom--I will not attempt to -describe in this place. Let it suffice that the world lost in a moment -its joyousness, the sunshine its warmth. The greenness and beauty round -me, which an instant before had filled me with pleasure, seemed on a -sudden no more than a grim and cruel jest at my expense, and I an atom -perishing unmarked and unnoticed. Yes, an atom, a mote; the bitterness -of that feeling I well remember. Then, in no long time--being a -soldier--I recovered my coolness, and, retaining the power to think, -decided what it behoved me to do. - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. UNDER THE GREENWOOD. - -To escape from my companions on some pretext, which should enable me to -ensure their safety without arousing their fears, was the one thought -which possessed me on the subsidence of my first alarm. Probably it -answered to that instinct in animals which bids them get away alone when -wounded or attacked by disease; and with me it had the fuller play as -the pain prevailed rather by paroxysms, than in permanence, and, coming -and going, allowed intervals of ease, in which I was able to think -clearly and consecutively, and even to sit firmly in the saddle. - -The moment one of these intervals enabled me to control myself, I used -it to think where I might go without danger to others; and at once and -naturally my thoughts turned to the last place we had passed; which -happened to be the house in the gorge where we had received news of -Bruhl's divergence from the road. The man who lived there alone had had -the plague; therefore he did not fear it. The place itself was solitary, -and I could reach it, riding slowly, in half an hour. On the instant -and without more delay I determined on this course. I would return, -and, committing myself to the fellow's good offices, bid him deny me to -others, and especially to my friends--should they seek me. - -Aware that I bad no time to lose if I would put this plan into execution -before the pains returned to sap my courage, I drew bridle at once, -and muttered some excuse to madame; if I remember rightly, that I had -dropped my gauntlet. Whatever the pretext--and my dread was great lest -she should observe any strangeness in my manner--it passed with her; by -reason, chiefly, I think, of the grief which monopolised her. She let me -go, and before anyone else could mark or miss me I was a hundred yards -away on the back-track, and already sheltered from observation by a turn -in the road. - -The excitement of my evasion supported me for a while after leaving her; -and then for another while, a paroxysm of pain deprived me of the power -of thought. But when this last was over, leaving me weak and shaken, yet -clear in my mind, the most miserable sadness and depression that can be -conceived came upon me; and, accompanying me through the wood, filled -its avenues (which doubtless were fair enough to others' eyes) with the -blackness of despair. I saw but the charnel-house, and that everywhere. -It was not only that the horrors of the first discovery returned upon me -and almost unmanned me; nor only that regrets and memories, pictures of -the past and plans for the future, crowded thick upon my mind, so that -I could have wept at the thought of all ending here. But in my weakness -mademoiselle's face shone where the wood was darkest, and, tempting and -provoking me to return--were it only to tell her that, grim and dull as -I seemed, I loved her--tried me with a subtle temptation almost beyond -my strength to resist. All that was mean in me rose in arms, all that -was selfish clamoured to know why I must die in the ditch while others -rode in the sunshine; why I must go to the pit, while others loved and -lived! - -And so hard was I pressed that I think I should have given way had the -ride been longer or my horse less smooth and nimble. But in the midst of -my misery, which bodily pain was beginning to augment to such a degree -that I could scarcely see, and had to ride gripping the saddle with both -hands, I reached the mill. My horse stopped of its own accord. The man -we had seen before came out. I had I just strength left to tell him what -was the matter, and what I wanted and then a fresh attack came on, with -sickness, and overcome by vertigo I fell to the ground. - -I have but an indistinct idea what happened after that; until I found -myself inside the house, clinging to the man's arm. He pointed to a -box-bed in one corner of the room (which was, or seemed to my sick eyes, -gloomy and darksome in the extreme), and would have had me lie down in -it. But something inside me revolted against the bed, and despite the -force he used, I broke away, and threw myself on a heap of straw which I -saw in another corner. - -'Is not the bed good enough for you?' he grumbled. - -I strove to tell him it was not that. - -'It should be good enough to die on,' he continued brutally. 'There's -five have died on that bed, I'd have you know! My wife one, and my son -another, and my daughter another; and then my son again, and a daughter -again. Five! Ay, five in that bed!' - -Brooding in the gloom of the chimney-corner, where he was busied about a -black pot, he continued to mutter and glance at me askance; but after a -while I swooned away with pain. - -When I opened my eyes again the room was darker. The man still sat where -I had last seen him, but a noise, the same, perhaps, which had roused -me, drew him as I looked to the unglazed window. A voice outside, the -tones of which I seemed to know, inquired if he had seen me; and so -carried away was I by the excitement of the moment that I rose on my -elbow to hear the answer. But the man was staunch. I heard him deny all -knowledge of me, and presently the sound of retreating hoofs and the -echo of voices dying in the distance assured me I was left. - -Then, at that instant, a doubt of the man on whose compassion I had -thrown myself entered my mind. Plague-stricken, hopeless as I was, it -chilled me to the very heart; staying in a moment the feeble tears I was -about to shed, and curing even the vertigo, which forced me to clutch at -the straw on which I lay. Whether the thought arose from a sickly sense -of my own impotence, or was based on the fellow's morose air and the -stealthy glances he continued to cast at me, I am as unable to say as I -am to decide whether it was well-founded, or the fruit of my own fancy. -Possibly the gloom of the room and the man's surly words inclined me -to suspicion; possibly his secret thoughts portrayed themselves in his -hang-dog visage. Afterwards it appeared that he had stripped me, while -I lay, of everything of value; but he may have done this in the belief -that I should die. - -All I know is that I knew nothing certain, because the fear died almost -as soon as it was born. The man had scarcely seated himself again, or I -conceived the thought, when a second alarm outside caused him to spring -to his feet. Scowling and muttering as he went, he hurried to the -window. But before he reached it the door was dashed violently open, and -Simon Fleix stood in the entrance. - -There came in with him so blessed a rush of light and life as in a -moment dispelled the horror of the room, and stripped me at one and the -same time of fear and manhood. For whether I would or no, at sight of -the familiar face, which I had fled so lately, I burst into tears; and, -stretching out my hands to him, as a frightened child might have done, -called on him by name. I suppose the plague was by this time so plainly -written on my face that all who looked might read; for he stood at gaze, -staring at me, and was still so standing when a hand put him aside and -a slighter, smaller figure, pale-faced and hooded, stood for a moment -between me and the sunshine. It was mademoiselle! - -That, I thank God, restored me to myself, or I had been for ever shamed. -I cried to them with all the voice I had left to take her away; and -calling out frantically again and again that I had the plague and she -would die, I bade the man close the door. Nay, regaining something of -strength in my fear for her, I rose up, half-dressed as I was, and would -have fled into some corner to avoid her, still calling out to them to -take her away, to take her away--if a fresh paroxysm had not seized me, -so that I fell blind and helpless where I was. - -For a time after that I knew nothing; until someone held water to my -lips, and I drank greedily, and presently awoke to the fact that the -entrance was dark with faces and figures all gazing at me as I lay. But -I could not see her; and I had sense enough to know and be thankful that -she was no longer among them. I would fain have bidden Maignan to begone -too, for I read the consternation in his face. But I could not muster -strength or voice for the purpose, and when I turned my head to see -who held me--ah me! it comes back to me still in dreams--it was -mademoiselle's hair that swept my forehead and her hand that ministered -to me; while tears she did not try to hide or wipe away fell on my hot -cheek. I could have pushed her away even then, for she was slight and -small; but the pains came upon me, and with a sob choking my voice I -lost all knowledge. - -I am told that I lay for more than a month between life and death, -now burning with fever and now in the cold fit; and that but for the -tendance which never failed nor faltered, nor could have been outdone -had my malady been the least infectious in the world. I must have died -a hundred times, as hundreds round me did die week by week in that year. -From the first they took me out of the house (where I think I should -have perished quickly, so impregnated was it with the plague poison) and -laid me under a screen of boughs in the forest, with a vast quantity of -cloaks and horse-cloths cunningly disposed to windward. Here I ran some -risk from cold and exposure and the fall of heavy dews; but, on the -other hand, had all the airs of heaven to clear away the humours and -expel the fever from my brain. - -Hence it was that when the first feeble beginnings of consciousness -awoke in me again, they and the light stole in on me through green -leaves, and overhanging boughs, and the freshness and verdure of the -spring woods. The sunshine which reached my watery eyes was softened by -its passage through great trees, which grew and expanded as I gazed -up into them, until each became a verdant world, with all a world's -diversity of life. Grown tired of this, I had still long avenues -of shade, carpeted with flowers, to peer into; or a little wooded -bottom--where the ground fell away on one side--that blazed and burned -with redthorn. Ay, and hence it was that the first sounds I heard, when -the fever left me at last, and I knew morning from evening, and man from -woman, were the songs of birds calling to their mates. - -Mademoiselle and Madame de Bruhl, with Fanchette and Simon Fleix, lay -all this time in such shelter as could be raised for them where I lay; -M. Francois and three stout fellows, whom Maignan left to guard us -living in a hut within hail. Maignan himself, after seeing out a week of -my illness, had perforce returned to his master, and no news had since -been received from him. Thanks to the timely move into the woods, no -other of the party fell ill, and by the time I was able to stand and -speak the ravages of the disease had so greatly decreased that fear was -at an end. - -I should waste words were I to try to describe how the peace and -quietude of the life we led in the forest during the time of my recovery -sank into my heart; which had known, save by my mother's bedside, little -of such joys. To awake in the morning to sweet sounds and scents, to eat -with reviving appetite and feel the slow growth of strength, to lie all -day in shade or sunshine as it pleased me, and hear women's voices and -tinkling laughter, to have no thought of the world and no knowledge -of it, so that we might have been, for anything we saw, in another -sphere--these things might have sufficed for happiness without that -which added to each and every one of them a sweeter and deeper and more -lasting joy. Of which next. - -I had not begun to take notice long before I saw that M. Francois and -madame had come to an understanding; such an one, at least, as permitted -him to do all for her comfort and entertainment without committing -her to more than was becoming at such a season. Naturally this left -mademoiselle much in my company; a circumstance which would have -ripened into passion the affection I before entertained for her, had -not gratitude and a nearer observance of her merits already elevated my -regard into the most ardent worship that even the youngest lover ever -felt for his mistress. - -In proportion, however, as I and my love grew stronger, and -mademoiselle's presence grew more necessary to my happiness--so that -were she away but an hour I fell a-moping--she began to draw off from -me, and absenting herself more and more on long walks in the woods, -by-and-by reduced me to such a pitch, of misery as bid fair to complete -what the fever had left undone. - -If this had happened in the world I think it likely that I should have -suffered in silence. But here, under the greenwood, in common enjoyment -of God's air and earth, we seemed more nearly equal. She was scarce -better dressed, than a sutler's wife; while recollections of her wealth -and station, though they assailed me nightly, lost much of their point -in presence of her youth and of that fair and patient gentleness which -forest life and the duties of a nurse had fostered. - -So it happened that one day, when she had been absent longer than usual, -I took my courage in my hand and went to meet her as far as the stream -which ran through the bottom by the redthorn. Here, at a place where -there were three stepping-stones, I waited for her; first taking away -the stepping-stones, that she might have to pause, and, being at a loss, -might be glad to see me. - -She came presently, tripping through an alley in the low wood, with her -eyes on the ground, and her whole carriage full of a sweet pensiveness -which it did me good to see. I turned my back on the stream before she -saw me, and made a pretence of being taken up with something in another -direction. Doubtless she espied me soon, and before she came very -near; but she made no sign until she reached the brink, and found the -stepping-stones were gone. - -Then, whether she suspected me or not, she called out to me, not once, -but several times. For, partly to tantalise her, as lovers will, and -partly because it charmed me to hear her use my name, I would not turn -at once. - -When I did, and discovered her standing with one small foot dallying -with the water, I cried out with well-affected concern; and in a great -hurry ran towards her, paying no attention to her chiding or the pettish -haughtiness with which she spoke to me. - -'The stepping-stones are all on your side,' she said imperiously. - -'Who has moved them?' - -I looked about without answering, and at last pretended to find them; -while she stood watching me, tapping the ground with one foot the while. -Despite her impatience, the stone which was nearest to her I took care -to bring last--that she might not cross without my assistance. But after -all she stepped over so lightly and quickly that the hand she placed -in mine seemed scarcely to rest there a second. Yet when she was over -I managed to retain it; nor did she resist, though her cheek, which had -been red before, turned crimson and her eyes fell, and bound to me by -the link of her little hand, she stood beside me with her whole figure -drooping. - -'Mademoiselle,' I said gravely, summoning all my resolution to my aid, -'do you know of what that stream with its stepping-stones reminds me?' - -She shook her head but did not answer. - -'Of the stream which has flowed between us from the day when I first saw -you at St. Jean,' said in a low voice. 'It has flowed between us, and it -still does--separating us.' - -'What stream?' she murmured, with her eyes cast down, and her foot -playing with the moss. 'You speak in riddles, sir.' - -'You understand this one only too well, mademoiselle, 'I answered. 'Are -you not young and gay and beautiful, while I am old, or almost old, -and dull and grave? You are rich and well-thought-of at Court, and I a -soldier of fortune, not too successful. What did you think of me -when you first saw me at St. Jean? What when I came to Rosny? That, -mademoiselle,' I continued with fervour, 'is the stream which flows -between us and separates us; and I know of but one stepping-stone that -can bridge it.' - -She looked aside, toying with a piece of thorn-blossom she had picked. -It was not redder than her cheeks. - -'That one stepping-stone,' I said, after waiting vainly for any word or -sign from her, 'is Love. Many weeks ago, mademoiselle, when I had little -cause to like you, I loved you; I loved you whether I would or not, and -without thought or hope of return. I should have been mad had I spoken -to you then. Mad, and worse than mad. But now, now that I owe you my -life, now that I have drunk from your hand in fever, and, awaking early -and late, have found you by my pillow--now that, seeing you come in and -out in the midst of fear and hardship, I have learned to regard you as -a woman kind and gentle as my mother--now that I love you, so that to be -with you is joy, and away from you grief, is it presumption in me now, -mademoiselle, to think that that stream may be bridged?' - -I stopped, out of breath, and saw that she was trembling. But she spoke -presently. 'You said one stepping-stone?' she murmured. - -'Yes,' I answered hoarsely, trying in vain to look at her face, which -she kept averted from me. - -'There should be two,' she said, almost in a whisper. 'Your love, sir, -and--and mine. You have said much of the one, and nothing of the other. -In that you are wrong, for I am proud still. And I would not cross the -stream you speak of for any love of yours!' - -'Ah!' I cried in sharpest pain. - -'But,' she continued, looking up at me on a sudden with eyes that told -me all, 'because I love you I am willing to cross it--to cross it once -for ever, and to live beyond it all my life--if I may live my life with -you.' - -I fell on my knee and kissed her hand again and again in a rapture of -joy and gratitude. By-and-by she pulled it from me. 'If you will, sir,' -she said, 'you may kiss my lips. If you do not, no man ever will.' - -After that, as may be guessed, we walked every day in the forest, making -longer and longer excursions as my strength came back to me, and the -nearer parts grew familiar. From early dawn, when I brought my love a -posy of flowers, to late evening, when Fanchette hurried her from me, -our days were passed in a long round of delight; being filled full of -all beautiful things--love, and sunshine, and rippling streams, and -green banks, on which we sat together under scented limes, telling one -another all we had ever thought, and especially all we had ever thought -of one another. Sometimes--when the light was low in the evening--we -spoke of my mother; and once--but that was in the sunshine, when the -bees were humming and my blood had begun to run strongly in my veins--I -spoke of my great and distant kinsman, Rohan. But mademoiselle would -hear nothing of him, murmuring again and again in my ear, 'I have -crossed, my love, I have crossed.' - -Truly the sands of that hour-glass were of gold. But in time they -ran out. First M. Francois, spurred by the restlessness of youth, and -convinced that madame would for a while yield no further, left us, and -went back to the world. Then news came of great events that could not -fail to move us. The King of France and the King of Navarre had met at -Tours, and embracing in the sight of an immense multitude, had repulsed -the League with slaughter in the suburb of St. Symphorien. Fast on this -followed the tidings of their march northwards with an overwhelming army -of fifty-thousand men of both religions, bent, rumour had it, on the -signal punishment of Paris. - -I grew--shame that I should say it--to think more and more of these -things; until mademoiselle, reading the signs, told me one day that we -must go. 'Though never again,' she added with a sigh, 'shall we be so -happy.' - -'Then why go?' I asked foolishly. - -'Because you are a man,' she answered with a wise smile, 'as I would -have you be, and you need something besides love. To-morrow we will go.' - -'Whither?' I said in amazement. - -'To the camp before Paris,' she answered. 'We will go back in the light -of day--seeing that we have done nothing of which to be ashamed--and -throw ourselves on the justice of the King of Navarre. You shall place -me with Madame Catherine, who will not refuse to protect me; and -so, sweet, you will have only yourself to think of. Come, sir,' she -continued, laying her little hand in mine, and looking into my eyes, -'you are not afraid?' - -'I am more afraid than ever I used to be,' I said trembling. - -'So I would have it,' she whispered, hiding her face on my shoulder. -'Nevertheless we will go.' - -And go we did. The audacity of such a return in the face of Turenne, -who was doubtless in the King of Navarre's suite, almost took my breath -away; nevertheless, I saw that it possessed one advantage which no other -course promised--that, I mean, of setting us right in the eyes of the -world, and enabling me to meet in a straightforward manner such -as maligned us. After some consideration I gave my assent, merely -conditioning that until we reached the Court we should ride masked, and -shun as far as possible encounters by the road. - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. A TAVERN BRAWL. - -On the following day, accordingly, we started. But the news of the two -kings' successes, and particularly the certainty which these had bred in -many minds that nothing short of a miracle could save Paris, had moved -so many gentlemen to take the road that we found the inns crowded beyond -example, and were frequently forced into meetings which made the task -of concealing our identity more difficult and hazardous than I had -expected. Sometimes shelter was not to be obtained on any terms, and -then we had to lie in the fields or in any convenient shed. Moreover, -the passage of the army had swept the country so bare both of food and -forage, that these commanded astonishing prices; and a long day's ride -more than once brought us to our destination without securing for us the -ample meal we had earned, and required. - -Under these circumstances, it was with joy little short of transport -that I recognised the marvellous change which had come over my mistress. -Bearing all without a murmur, or a frown, or so much as one complaining -word, she acted on numberless occasions so as to convince me that she -spoke truly--albeit I scarcely dared to believe it--when she said that -she had but one trouble in the world, and that was the prospect of our -coming separation. - -For my part, and despite some gloomy moments, when fear of the future -overcame me, I rode in Paradise riding by my mistress. It was her -presence which glorified alike the first freshness of the morning, when -we started with all the day before us, and the coolness of the late -evening, when we rode hand-in-hand. Nor could I believe without an -effort that I was the same Gaston de Marsac who she had once spurned -and disdained. God knows I was thankful for her love. A thousand times, -thinking of my grey hairs, I asked her if she did not repent; and a -thousand times she answered No, with so much happiness in her eyes that -I was fain to thank God again and believe her. - -Notwithstanding the inconvenience of the practice, we made it a rule -to wear our masks whenever we appeared in public; and this rule me kept -more strictly as we approached Paris. It exposed us to some comment and -more curiosity, but led to no serious trouble until we reached Etampes, -twelve leagues from the capital; where we found the principal inn so -noisy and crowded, and so much disturbed by the constant coming and -going of couriers, that it required no experience to predicate the -neighbourhood of the army. The great courtyard seemed to be choked with -a confused mass of men and horses, through which we made our way with -difficulty. The windows of the house were all open, and offered us a -view of tables surrounded by men eating and drinking hastily, as the -manner of travellers is. The gateway and the steps of the house were -lined with troopers and servants and sturdy rogues; who scanned all who -passed in or out, and not unfrequently followed them with ribald jests -and nicknames. Songs and oaths, brawling and laughter, with the neighing -of horses and the huzzas of the beggars, who shouted whenever a fresh -party arrived, rose above all, and increased the reluctance with which I -assisted madame and mademoiselle to dismount. - -Simon was no match for such an occasion as this; but the stalwart aspect -of the three men whom Maignan had left with me commanded respect, and -attended by two of these I made a way for the ladies--not without some -opposition and a few oaths--to enter the house. The landlord, whom we -found crushed into a corner inside, and entirely overborne by the crowd -which had invaded his dwelling, assured me that he had not the smallest -garret he could place at my disposal; but I presently succeeded in -finding a small room at the top, which I purchased from the four men who -had taken possession of it. As it was impossible to get anything to -eat there, I left a man on guard, and myself descended with madame and -mademoiselle to the eating-room, a large chamber set with long boards, -and filled with a rough and noisy crew. Under a running fire of -observations we entered, and found with difficulty three seats in an -inner corner of the room. - -I ran my eye over the company, and noticed among them, besides a dozen -travelling parties like our own, specimens of all those classes which -are to be found in the rear of an army. There were some officers and -more horse-dealers; half a dozen forage-agents and a few priests; with a -large sprinkling of adventurers, braves, and led-captains, and here and -there two or three whose dress and the deference paid to them by their -neighbours seemed to indicate a higher rank. Conspicuous among these -last were a party of four who occupied a small table by the door. An -attempt had been made to secure some degree of privacy for them by -interposing a settle between them and the room; and their attendants, -who seemed to be numerous, did what they could to add to this by filling -the gap with their persons. One of the four, a man of handsome dress -and bearing, who sat in the place of honour, was masked, as we were. The -gentleman at his right hand I could not see. The others, whom I could -see, were strangers to me. - -Some time elapsed before our people succeeded in procuring us any food, -and during the interval we were exposed to an amount of comment on the -part of those round us which I found very little to my liking. There -were not half a dozen women present, and this and our masks rendered my -companions unpleasantly conspicuous. Aware, however, of the importance -of avoiding an altercation which might possibly detain us, and would -be certain to add to our notoriety, I remained quiet; and presently the -entrance of a tall, dark-complexioned man, who carried himself with -a peculiar swagger, and seemed to be famous for something or other, -diverted the attention of the company from us. - -The new-comer was somewhat of Maignan's figure. He wore a back and -breast over a green doublet, and had an orange feather in his cap and an -orange-lined cloak on his shoulder. On entering he stood a moment in the -doorway, letting his bold black eyes rove round the room, the while he -talked in a loud braggart fashion to his companions. There was a lack of -breeding in the man's air, and something offensive in his look; which I -noticed produced wherever it rested a momentary silence and constraint. -When he moved farther into the room I saw that he wore a very long -sword, the point of which trailed a foot behind him. - -He chose out for his first attentions the party of four whom I have -mentioned; going up to them and accosting them with a ruffling air, -directed especially to the gentleman in the mask. The latter lifted his -head haughtily on finding himself addressed by a stranger, but did not -offer to answer. Someone else did, however, for a sudden bellow like -that of an enraged bull proceeded from behind the settle. The words were -lost in noise, the unseen speaker's anger seeming so overpowering that -he could not articulate; but the tone and voice, which were in some way -familiar to me, proved enough for the bully, who, covering his retreat -with a profound bow, backed out rapidly, muttering what was doubtless an -apology. Cocking his hat more fiercely to make up for this repulse, -he next proceeded to patrol the room, scowling from side to side as he -went, with the evident intention of picking a quarrel with someone less -formidable. - -By ill-chance his eye lit, as he turned, on our masks. He said something -to his companions; and encouraged, no doubt, by the position of -our seats at the board, which led him to think us people of small -consequence, he came to a stop opposite us. - -'What! more dukes here?' he cried scoffingly. 'Hallo, you sir!' he -continued to me, 'will you not unmask and drink a glass with me?' - -I thanked him civilly, but declined. - -His insolent eyes were busy, while I spoke, with madame's fair hair and -handsome figure, which her mask failed to hide. 'Perhaps the ladies will -have better taste, sir,' he said rudely. 'Will they not honour us with a -sight of their pretty faces?' - -Knowing the importance of keeping my temper I put constraint on myself, -and answered, still with civility, that they were greatly fatigued and -were about to retire. - -'Zounds!' he cried, 'that is not to be borne. If we are to lose them so -soon, the more reason we should enjoy their BEAUX YEUX while we can. -A short life and a merry one, sir. This is not a nunnery, nor, I dare -swear, are your fair friends nuns.' - -Though I longed to chastise him for this insult, I feigned deafness, -and went on with my meal as if I had not heard him; and the table being -between us prevented him going beyond words. After he had uttered one or -two coarse jests of a similar character, which cost us less as we were -masked, and our emotions could only be guessed, the crowd about us, -seeing I took the thing quietly, began to applaud him; but more as it -seemed to me out of fear than love. In this opinion I was presently -confirmed on hearing from Simon who whispered the information in my -ear as he handed a dish--that the fellow was an Italian captain in the -king's pay, famous for his skill with the sword and the many duels in -which he had displayed it. - -Mademoiselle, though she did not know this, bore with his insolence with -a patience which astonished me; while madame appeared unconscious of it. -Nevertheless, I was glad when he retired and left us in peace. I seized -the moment of his absence to escort the ladies through the room and -upstairs to their apartment, the door of which I saw locked and secured. -That done I breathed more freely; and feeling thankful that I had been -able to keep my temper, took the episode to be at an end. - -But in this I was mistaken, as I found when I returned to the room in -which we had supped, my intention being to go through it to the stables. -I had not taken two paces across the floor before I found my road -blocked by the Italian, and read alike in his eyes and in the faces -of the company--of whom many hastened to climb the tables to see what -passed--that the meeting was premeditated. The man's face was flushed -with wine; proud of his many victories, he eyed me with a boastful -contempt my patience had perhaps given him the right to feel. - -'Ha! well met, sir,' he said, sweeping the floor with his cap in an -exaggeration of respect, 'now, perhaps, your high-mightiness will -condescend to unmask? The table is no longer between us, nor are your -fair friends here to protect their CHER AMI!' - -'If I still refuse, sir,' I said civilly, wavering between anger and -prudence, and hoping still to avoid a quarrel which might endanger -us all, 'be good enough to attribute it to private motives, and to no -desire to disoblige you.' - -'No, I do not think you wish to disoblige me,' he answered, laughing -scornfully--and a dozen voices echoed the gibe. 'But for your private -motives, the devil take them! Is that plain enough, sir?' - -'It is plain enough to show me that you are an ill-bred man!' I -answered, choler getting the better of me. 'Let me pass, sir.' - -'Unmask!' he retorted, moving so as still to detain me, 'or shall I call -in the grooms to perform the office for you?' - -Seeing at last that all my attempts to evade the man only fed his -vanity, and encouraged him to further excesses, and that the motley -crowd, who filled the room and already formed a circle round us, had -made up their minds to see sport, I would no longer balk them; I could -no longer do it, indeed, with honour. I looked round, therefore, for -someone whom I might enlist as my second, but I saw no one with whom -I had the least acquaintance. The room was lined from table to ceiling -with mocking faces and scornful eyes all turned to me. - -My opponent saw the look, and misread it; being much accustomed, I -imagine, to a one-sided battle. He laughed contemptuously. 'No, my -friend, there is no way out of it,' he said. 'Let me see your pretty -face, or fight.' - -'So be it,' I said quietly. 'If I have no other choice, I will fight.' - -'In your mask?' he cried incredulously. - -'Yes,' I said sternly, feeling every nerve tingle with long-suppressed -rage. 'I will fight as I am. Off with your back and breast, if you are -a man. And I will so deal with you that if you see to-morrow's sun you -shall need a mask for the rest of your days!' - -'Ho! ho!' he answered, scowling at me in surprise, 'you sing in a -different key now. But I will put a term to it. There is space enough -between these tables, if you can use your weapon; and much more than you -will need to-morrow.' - -'To-morrow will show,' I retorted. - -Without more ado he unfastened the buckles of his breast-piece, and -relieving himself of it, stepped back a pace. Those of the bystanders -who occupied the part of the room he indicated--a space bounded by -four tables, and not unfit for the purpose, though somewhat -confined--hastened to get out of it, and seize instead upon neighbouring -posts of 'vantage. The man's reputation was such, and his fame so great, -that on all sides I heard naught but wagers offered against me at odds; -but this circumstance, which might have flurried a younger man and -numbed his arm, served only to set me on making the most of such -openings as the fellow's presumption and certainty of success would be -sure to afford. - -The news of the challenge running through the house had brought together -by this time so many people as to fill the room from end to end, and -even to obscure the light, which was beginning to wane. At the last -moment, when we were on the point of engaging, a slight commotion marked -the admission to the front of three or four persons, whose consequence -or attendants gained them this advantage. I believed them to be the -party of four I have mentioned, but at the time I could not be certain. - -In the few seconds of waiting while this went forward I examined our -relative positions with the fullest intention of killing the man--whose -glittering eyes and fierce smile filled me with a loathing which was -very nearly hatred--if I could. The line of windows lay to my right and -his left. The evening light fell across us, whitening the row of faces -on my left, but leaving those on my right in shadow. It occurred to me -on the instant that my mask was actually an advantage, seeing that it -protected my sight from the side-light, and enabled me to watch his eyes -and point with more concentration. - -'You will be the twenty-third man I have killed!' he said boastfully, as -we crossed swords and stood an instant on guard. - -'Take care!' I answered. 'You have twenty-three against you!' - -A swift lunge was his only answer. I parried it, and thrust, and we fell -to work. We had not exchanged half a dozen blows, however, before I saw -that I should need all the advantage which my mask and greater caution -gave me. I had met my match, and it might be something more; but that -for a time it was impossible to tell. He had the longer weapon, and I -the longer reach. He preferred the point, after the new Italian fashion, -and I the blade. He was somewhat flushed with wine, while my arm had -scarcely recovered the strength of which illness had deprived me. - -On the other hand, excited at the first by the cries of his backers, -he played rather wildly; while I held myself prepared, and keeping up a -strong guard, waited cautiously for any opening or mistake on his part. - -The crowd round us, which had hailed our first passes with noisy cries -of derision and triumph, fell silent after a while, surprised and taken -aback by their champion's failure to spit me at the first onslaught. My -reluctance to engage had led them to predict a short fight and an easy -victory. - -Convinced of the contrary, they began to watch each stroke with bated -breath; or now and again, muttering the name of Jarnac, broke into -brief exclamations as a blow more savage than usual drew sparks from our -blades, and made the rafters ring with the harsh grinding of steel on -steel. - -The surprise of the crowd, however, was a small thing compared with that -of my adversary. Impatience, disgust, rage and doubt chased one another -in turn across his flushed features. Apprised that he had to do with -a swordsman, he put forth all his power. With spite in his eyes he -laboured blow on blow, he tried one form of attack after another, he -found me equal, if barely equal, to all. And then at last there came a -change. The perspiration gathered on his brow, the silence disconcerted -him; he felt his strength failing under the strain, and suddenly, I -think, the possibility of defeat and death, unthought of before, burst -upon him. I heard him groan, and for a moment he fenced wildly. Then -he again recovered himself. But now I read terror in his eyes, and knew -that the moment of retribution was at hand. With his back to the table, -and my point threatening his breast, he knew at last what those others -had felt! - -He would fain have stopped to breathe, but I would not let him though my -blows also were growing feeble, and my guard weaker; for I knew that -if I gave him time to recover himself he would have recourse to other -tricks, and might out-manoeuvre me in the end. As it was, my black -unchanging mask, which always confronted him, which hid all emotions -and veiled even fatigue, had grown to be full of terror to him--full -of blank, passionless menace. He could not tell how I fared, or what I -thought, or how my strength stood. Superstitious dread was on him, and -threatened, to overpower him. Ignorant who I was or whence I came, -he feared and doubted, grappling with monstrous suspicions, which the -fading light encouraged. His face broke out in blotches, his breath -came and went in gasps, his eyes began to protrude. Once or twice they -quitted mine for a part of a second to steal a despairing glance at the -rows of onlookers that ran to right and left of us. But he read no pity -there. - -At last the end came--more suddenly than I had looked for it, but I -think he was unnerved. His hand lost its grip of the hilt, and a parry -which I dealt a little more briskly than usual sent the weapon -flying among the crowd, as much to my astonishment as to that of the -spectators. A volley of oaths and exclamations hailed the event; and for -a moment I stood at gaze, eyeing him watchfully. He shrank back; then he -made for a moment as if he would fling himself upon me dagger in -hand. But seeing my point steady, he recoiled a second time, his face -distorted with rage and fear. - -'Go!' I said sternly. 'Begone! Follow your sword! But spare the next man -you conquer.' - -He stared at me, fingering his dagger as if he did not understand, or -as if in the bitterness of his shame at being so defeated even life were -unwelcome. I was about to repeat my words when a heavy hand fell on my -shoulder. - -'Fool!' a harsh growling voice muttered in my ear. 'Do you want him to -serve you as Achon served Matas? This is the way to deal with him.' - -And before I knew who spoke or what to expect a man vaulted over the -table beside me. Seizing the Italian by the neck and waist, he flung him -bodily--without paying the least regard to his dagger--into the crowd. -'There!' the new-comer cried, stretching his arms as if the effort had -relieved him, 'so much for him! And do you breathe yourself. Breathe -yourself, my friend,' he continued with a vain-glorious air of -generosity. 'When you are rested and ready, you and I will have a bout. -Mon dieu! what a thing it is to see a man! And by my faith you are a -man!' - -'But, sir,' I said, staring at him in the utmost bewilderment, 'we have -no quarrel.' - -'Quarrel?' he cried in his loud, ringing voice. 'Heaven forbid! Why -should we? I love a man, however, and when I see one I say to him, "I am -Crillon! Fight me!" But I see you are not yet rested. Patience! There is -no hurry. Berthon de Crillon is proud to wait your convenience. In the -meantime, gentlemen,' he continued, turning with a grand air to the -spectators, who viewed this sudden BOULEVERSEMENT with unbounded -surprise, 'let us do what we can. Take the word from me, and cry all, -"VIVE LE ROI, ET VIVE L'INCONNU!"' - -Like people awaking from a dream--so great was their astonishment the -company complied and with the utmost heartiness. When the shout died -away, someone cried in turn, 'Vive Crillon!' and this was honoured with -a fervour which brought the tears to the eyes of that remarkable man, -in whom bombast was so strangely combined with the firmest and most -reckless courage. He bowed again and again, turning himself about in the -small space between the tables, while his face shone with pleasure and -enthusiasm. Meanwhile I viewed him with perplexity. I comprehended that -it was his voice I had heard behind the settle; but I had neither the -desire to fight him nor so great a reserve of strength after my illness -as to be able to enter on a fresh contest with equanimity. When he -turned to me, therefore, and again asked, 'Well, sir, are you ready?' -I could think of no better answer than that I had already made to him, -'But, sir, I have no quarrel with you.' - -'Tut, tut!' he answered querulously, 'if that is all, let us engage.' - -'That is not all, however,' I said, resolutely putting up my sword. 'I -have not only no quarrel with M. de Crillon, but I received at his hands -when I last saw him a considerable service.' - -'Then now is the time to return it,' he answered briskly, and as if -that settled the matter. - -I could not refrain from laughing. 'Nay, but I have still an excuse,' -I said. 'I am barely recovered from an illness, and am weak. Even so, -I should be loth to decline a combat with some; but a better man than I -may give the wall to M. de Crillon and suffer no disgrace.' - -'Oh, if you put it that way--enough said,' he answered in a tone of -disappointment. 'And, to be sure, the light is almost gone. That is a -comfort. But you will not refuse to drink a cup of wine with me? Your -voice I remember, though I cannot say who you are or what service I did -you. For the future, however, count on me. I love a man who is brave as -well as modest, and know no better friend than a stout swordsman.' - -I was answering him in fitting terms--while the fickle crowd, which a -few minutes earlier had been ready to tear me, viewed us from a distance -with respectful homage--when the masked gentleman who had before been in -his company drew near and saluted me with much stateliness. - -'I congratulate you, sir,' he said, in the easy tone of a great man -condescending. 'You use the sword as few use it, and fight with your -head as well as your hands. Should you need a friend or employment, -you will honour me by remembering that you are known to the Vicomte de -Turenne.' - -I bowed low to hide the start which the mention of his name caused -me. For had I tried, ay, and possessed to aid me all the wit of M. -de Brantome, I could have imagined nothing more fantastic than this -meeting; or more entertaining than that I, masked, should talk with the -Vicomte de Turenne masked, and hear in place of reproaches and threats -of vengeance a civil offer of protection. Scarcely knowing whether I -should laugh or tremble, or which should occupy me more, the diverting -thing that had happened or the peril we had barely escaped, I made shift -to answer him, craving his indulgence if I still preserved my incognito. -Even while I spoke a fresh fear assailed me: lest M. de Crillon, -recognising my voice or figure, should cry my name on the spot, and -explode in a moment the mine on which we stood. - -This rendered me extremely impatient to be gone. But M. le Vicomte -had still something to say, and I could not withdraw myself without -rudeness. - -'You are travelling north like everyone else?' he said, gazing at me -curiously. 'May I ask whether you are for Meudon, where the King of -Navarre lies, or for the Court at St. Cloud?' - -I muttered, moving restlessly under his keen eyes, that I was for -Meudon. - -'Then, if you care to travel with a larger company,' he rejoined, bowing -with negligent courtesy, 'pray command me. I am for Meudon also, and -shall leave here three hours before noon.' - -Fortunately he took my assent to his gracious invitation for granted, -and turned away before I had well begun to thank him. From Crillon I -found it more difficult to escape. He appeared to have conceived a -great fancy for me, and felt also, I imagine, some curiosity as to -my identity. But I did even this at last, and, evading the obsequious -offers which were made me on all sides, escaped to the stables, where -I sought out the Cid's stall, and lying down in the straw beside him, -began to review the past, and plan the future. Under cover of the -darkness sleep soon came to me; my last waking thoughts being divided -between thankfulness for my escape and a steady purpose to reach Meudon -before the Vicomte, so that I might make good my tale in his absence. -For that seemed to be my only chance of evading the dangers I had chosen -to encounter. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. AT MEUDON. - -Making so early a start from Etampes that the inn, which had continued -in an uproar till long after midnight, lay sunk in sleep when we rode -out of the yard, we reached Meudon about noon next day. I should be -tedious were I to detail what thoughts my mistress and I had during that -day's journey--the last, it might be, which we should take together; -or what assurances we gave one another, or how often we, repented the -impatience which had impelled us to put all to the touch. Madame, with -kindly forethought, detached herself from us, and rode the greater part -of the distance with Fanchette; but the opportunities she gave us -went for little; for, to be plain, the separation we dreaded seemed to -overshadow us already. We uttered few words, through those few were to -the purpose, but riding hand-in-hand, with full hearts, and eyes which -seldom quitted one another, looked forward to Meudon and its perils -with such gloomy forebodings as our love and my precarious position -suggested. - -Long before we reached the town, or could see more of it than the -Chateau, over which the Lilies of France and the broad white banner -of the Bourbons floated in company, we found ourselves swept into the -whirlpool which surrounds an army. Crowds stood at all the cross-roads, -wagons and sumpter-mules encumbered the bridges; each moment a horseman -passed us at a gallop, or a troop of disorderly rogues, soldiers only in -name, reeled, shouting and singing, along the road. Here and there, for -a warning to the latter sort, a man, dangled on a rude gallows; under -which sportsmen returning from the chase and ladies who had been for an -airing rode laughing on their way. - -Amid the multitude entering the town we passed unnoticed. A little way -within the walls we halted to inquire where the Princess of Navarre had -her lodging. Hearing that she occupied a house in the town, while her -brother had his quarters in the Chateau, and the King of France at St. -Cloud, I stayed my party in a by-road, a hundred paces farther on, and, -springing from the Cid, went to my mistress's knee. - -'Mademoiselle,' I said formally, and so loudly that all my men might -hear, 'the time is come. I dare not go farther with you. I beg you, -therefore, to bear me witness that as I took you so I have brought you -back, and both with your good-will. I beg that you will give me this -quittance, for it may serve me.' - -She bowed her head and laid her ungloved hand on mine, which I had -placed on, the pommel of her saddle. 'Sir,' she answered in a broken -voice, 'I will not give you this quittance, nor any quittance from me -while I live.' With that she took off her mask before them all, and I -saw the tears running down her white face. 'May God protect you, M. de -Marsac,' she continued, stooping until her face almost touched mine, -'and bring you to the thing you desire. If not, sir, and you pay too -dearly for what you have done for me, I will live a maiden all my days. -And, if I do not, these men may shame me!' - -My heart was too full for words, but I took the glove she held out to -me, and kissed her hand with my knee bent. Then I waved--for I could not -speak--to madame to proceed; and with Simon Fleix and Maignan's men to -guard them they went on their way. Mademoiselle's white face looked back -to me until a bend in the road hid them, and I saw them no more. - -I turned when all were gone, and going heavily to where my Sard stood -with his head drooping, I climbed to the saddle, and rode at a foot-pace -towards the Chateau. The way was short and easy, for the next turning -showed me the open gateway and a crowd about it. A vast number of people -were entering and leaving, while others rested in the shade of the wall, -and a dozen grooms led horses up and down. The sunshine fell hotly on -the road and the courtyard, and flashed back by the cuirasses of the -men on guard, seized the eye and dazzled it with gleams of infinite -brightness. I was advancing alone, gazing at all this with a species -of dull indifference which masked for the moment the suspense I felt at -heart, when a man, coming on foot along the street, crossed quickly to -me and looked me in the face. - -I returned his look, and seeing he was a stranger to me, was for passing -on without pausing. But he wheeled beside me and uttered my name in a -low voice. - -I checked the Cid and looked down at him. 'Yes,' I said mechanically, 'I -am M. de Marsac. But I do not know you.' - -'Nevertheless I have been watching for you for three days,' he replied. -'M. de Rosny received your message. This is for you.' - -He handed me a scrap of paper. 'From whom?' I asked. - -'Maignan,' he answered briefly. And with that, and a stealthy look -round, he left me, and went the way he had been going before. - -I tore open the note, and knowing that Maignan could not write, was -not surprised to find that it lacked any signature. The brevity of its -contents vied with the curtness of its bearer. 'In Heaven's name go back -and wait,' it ran. 'Your enemy is here, and those who wish you well are -powerless.' - -A warning so explicit, and delivered under such circumstances, might -have been expected to make me pause even then. But I read the message -with the same dull indifference, the same dogged resolve with which the -sight of the crowded gateway before me had inspired me. I had not come -so far and baffled Turenne by an hour to fail in my purpose at the last; -nor given such pledges to another to prove false to myself. Moreover, -the distant rattle of musketry, which went to show that a skirmish was -taking place on the farther side of the Castle, seemed an invitation to -me to proceed; for now, if ever, my sword might earn protection and a -pardon. Only in regard to M. de Rosny, from whom I had no doubt that the -message came, I resolved to act with prudence; neither making any appeal -to him in public nor mentioning his name to others in private. - -The Cid had borne me by this time into the middle of the throng about -the gateway, who, wondering to see a stranger of my appearance arrive -without attendants, eyed me with a mixture of civility and forwardness. -I recognised more than one man whom I had seen about the Court at St. -Jean d'Angely six months before; but so great is the disguising power of -handsome clothes and equipments that none of these knew me. I beckoned -to the nearest, and asked him if the King of Navarre was in the Chateau. - -'He has gone to see the King of France at St. Cloud,' the man answered, -with something of wonder that anyone should be ignorant of so important -a fact. 'He is expected here in an hour.' - -I thanked him, and calculating that I should still have time and to -spare before the arrival of M. de Turenne, I dismounted, and taking the -rein over my arm, began to walk up and down in the shade of the wall. -Meanwhile the loiterers increased in numbers as the minutes passed. Men -of better standing rode up, and, leaving their horses in charge of their -lackeys, went into the Chateau. Officers in shining corslets, or with -boots and scabbards dulled with dust, arrived and clattered in through -the gates. A messenger galloped up with letters, and was instantly -surrounded by a curious throng of questioners; who left him only to -gather about the next comers, a knot of townsfolk, whose downcast -visages and glances of apprehension seemed to betoken no pleasant or -easy mission. - -Watching many of these enter and disappear, while only the humbler -sort remained to swell the crowd at the gate, I began to experience the -discomfort and impatience which are the lot of the man who finds himself -placed in a false position. I foresaw with clearness the injury I was -about to do my cause by presenting myself to the king among the common -herd; and yet I had no choice save to do this, for I dared not run the -risk of entering, lest I should be required to give my name, and fail to -see the King of Navarre at all. - -As it was I came very near to being foiled in this way; for I presently -recognised, and was recognised in turn, by a gentleman who rode up to -the gates and, throwing his reins to a groom, dismounted with an air -of immense gravity. This was M. Forget, the king's secretary, and the -person to whom I had on a former occasion presented a petition. He -looked at me with eyes of profound astonishment, and saluting me stiffly -from a distance, seemed in two minds whether he should pass in or -speak to me. On second thoughts, however, he came towards me, and again -saluted me with a peculiarly dry and austere aspect. - -'I believe, sir, I am speaking to M. de Marsac?' he said in a low voice, -but not impolitely. - -I replied in the affirmative. - -'And that, I conclude, is your horse?' he continued, raising his cane, -and pointing to the Cid, which I had fastened to a hook in the wall. - -I replied again in the affirmative. - -'Then take a word of advice,' he answered, screwing up his features, and -speaking in a dry sort of way. 'Get upon its back without an instant's -delay, and put as many leagues between yourself and Meudon as horse and -man may.' - -'I am obliged to you,' I said, though I was greatly startled by his -words. 'And what if I do not take your advice?' - -He shrugged his shoulders. 'In that case look to yourself!' he retorted. -'But you will look in vain!' - -He turned on his heel, as he spoke, and in a moment was gone. I watched -him enter the Chateau, and in the uncertainty which possessed me whether -he was not gone--after salving his conscience by giving me warning--to -order my instant arrest, I felt, and I doubt not I looked, as ill at -ease for the time being as the group of trembling townsfolk who stood -near me. Reflecting that he should know his master's mind, I recalled -with depressing clearness the repeated warnings the King of Navarre -had given me that I must not look to him for reward or protection. I -bethought me that I was here against his express orders: presuming on -those very services which he had given me notice he should repudiate. -I remembered that Rosny had always been in the same tale. And en fin -I began to see that mademoiselle and I had together decided on a step -which I should never have presumed to take on my own motion. - -I had barely arrived at this conclusion when the trampling of hoofs and -a sudden closing in of the crowd round the gate announced the King of -Navarre's approach. With a sick heart I drew nearer, feeling that the -crisis was at hand; and in a moment he came in sight, riding beside an -elderly man, plainly dressed and mounted, with whom he was carrying on -an earnest conversation. A train of nobles and gentlemen, whose martial -air and equipments made up for the absence of the gewgaws and glitter, -to which my eyes had become accustomed at Blois, followed close on his -heels. Henry himself wore a suit of white velvet, frayed in places -and soiled by his armour; but his quick eye and eager, almost fierce, -countenance could not fail to win and keep the attention of the least -observant. He kept glancing from side to side as he came on; and that -with so cheerful an air and a carriage so full at once of dignity and -good-humour that no one could look on him and fail to see that here was -a leader and a prince of men, temperate in victory and unsurpassed in -defeat. - -The crowd raising a cry of 'VIVE NAVARRE!' as he drew near, he bowed, -with a sparkle in his eye. But when a few by the gate cried 'VIVENT LES -ROIS!' he held up his hand for silence, and said in a loud, clear voice, -'Not that, my friends. There is but one king in France. Let us say -instead, "Vive le Roi!"' - -The spokesman of the little group of townsfolk, who, I learned, were -from Arcueil, and had come to complain of the excessive number of troops -quartered upon them, took advantage of the pause to approach him. Henry -received the old man with a kindly look, and bent from his saddle to -hear what he had to say. While they were talking I pressed forward, the -emotion I felt on my own account heightened by my recognition of the man -who rode by the King of Navarre--who was no other than M. de la Noue. No -Huguenot worthy of the name could look on the veteran who had done -and suffered more for the cause than any living man without catching -something of his stern enthusiasm; and the sight, while it shamed -me, who a moment before had been inclined to prefer my safety to the -assistance I owed my country, gave me courage to step to the king's -rein, so that I heard his last words to the men of Arcueil. - -'Patience, my friends,' he said kindly. 'The burden is heavy, but the -journey is a short one. The Seine is ours; the circle is complete. In a -week Paris must surrender. The king, my cousin, will enter, and you will -be rid of us. For France's sake one week, my friends.' - -The men fell back with low obeisances, charmed by his good-nature, and -Henry, looking up, saw me before him. In the instant his jaw fell. His -brow, suddenly contracting above eyes, which flashed with surprise and -displeasure, altered in a moment the whole aspect of his face; which -grew dark and stern as night. His first impulse was to pass by me; but -seeing that I held my ground, he hesitated, so completely chagrined by -my appearance that he did not know how to act, or in what way to deal -with me. I seized the occasion, and bending my knee with as much respect -as I had ever used to the King of France, begged to bring myself to his -notice, and to crave his protection and favour. - -'This is no time to trouble me, sir,' he retorted, eyeing me with an -angry side-glance. 'I do not know you. You are unknown to me, sir. You -must go to M. de Rosny.' - -'It would be useless sire,' I answered, in desperate persistence. - -'Then I can do nothing for you,' he rejoined peevishly. 'Stand on one -side, sir.' - -But I was desperate. I knew that I had risked all on the event, and must -establish my footing before M. de Turenne's return, or run the risk -of certain recognition and vengeance. I cried out, caring nothing who -heard, that I was M. de Marsac, that I had come back to meet whatever my -enemies could allege against me. - -'VENTRE SAINT GRIS!' Henry exclaimed, starting in his saddle with -well-feigned surprise. 'Are you that man?' - -'I am, sire,' I answered. - -'Then you must be mad!' he retorted, appealing to those behind him. -'Stark, staring mad to show your face here! 'VENTRE SAINT GRIS! Are we -to have all the ravishers and plunderers in the country come to us?' - -'I am neither the one nor the other!' I answered, looking with -indignation from him to the gaping train behind him. - -'That you will have to settle with M. de Turenne!' he retorted, frowning -down at me with his whole face turned gloomy and fierce. 'I know you -well, sir, now. Complaint has been made that you abducted a lady from -his Castle of Chize some time back.' - -'The lady, sire, is now in charge of the Princess of Navarre.' - -'She is?' he exclaimed, quite taken aback. - -'And if she has aught of complaint against me,' I continued with pride,' -I will submit to whatever punishment you order or M. de Turenne demands. -But if she has no complaint to make, and vows that she accompanied me -of her own free-will and accord, and has suffered neither wrong nor -displeasure at my hands, then, sire, I claim that this is a private -matter between myself and M. de Turenne.' - -'Even so I think you will have your hands full,' he answered grimly. -At the same time he stopped by a gesture those who would have cried out -upon me, and looked at me himself with an altered countenance. 'Do I -understand that you assert that the lady went of her own accord?' he -asked. - -'She went and has returned, sire,' I answered. - -'Strange!' he ejaculated. 'Have you married her?' - -'No, sire,' I answered. 'I desire leave to do so.' - -'Mon dieu! she is M. de Turenne's ward,' he rejoined, almost dumbfounded -by my audacity. - -'I do not despair of obtaining his assent, sire,' I said patiently. - -'SAINT GRIS! the man is mad!' he cried, wheeling his horse and facing -his train with a gesture of the utmost wonder. 'It is the strangest -story I ever heard.' - -'But somewhat more to the gentleman's credit than the lady's!' one said -with a smirk and a smile. - -'A lie!' I cried, springing forward on the instant with a boldness which -astonished myself. 'She is as pure as your Highness's sister! I swear -it. That man lies in his teeth, and I will maintain it.' - -'Sir!' the King of Navarre cried, turning on me with the utmost -sternness, 'you forget yourself in my presence! Silence, and beware -another time how you let your tongue run on those above you. You have -enough trouble, let me tell you, on your hands already.' - -'Yet the man lies!' I answered doggedly, remembering Crillon and his -ways. 'And if he will do me the honour of stepping aside with me, I will -convince him of it!' - -'VENTRE SAINT GRIS!' Henry replied, frowning, and dwelling on each -syllable of his favourite oath. 'Will you be silent, sir, and let me -think? Or must I order your instant arrest?' - -'Surely that at least, sire,' a suave voice interjected. And with that -a gentleman pressed forward from the rest, and gaining a place, of -'vantage by the King's side, shot at me a look of extreme malevolence. -'My lord of Turenne will expect no less at your Highness's hands,' he -continued warmly. 'I beg you will give the order on the spot, and hold -this person to answer for his misdeeds. M. de Turenne returns to-day. -He should be here now. I say again, sire, he will expect no less than -this.' - -The king, gazing at me with gloomy eyes, tugged at his moustaches. -Someone had motioned the common herd to stand back out of hearing; -at the same time the suite had moved up out of curiosity and formed a -half-circle; in the midst of which I stood fronting the king, who had -La Noue and the last speaker on either hand. Perplexity and annoyance -struggled for the mastery in his face as he looked darkly down at -me, his teeth showing through his beard. Profoundly angered by my -appearance, which he had taken at first to be the prelude to disclosures -which must detach Turenne at a time when union was all-important, he -had now ceased to fear for himself; and perhaps saw something in the -attitude I adopted which appealed to his nature and sympathies. - -'If the girl is really back,' he said at last, 'M. d'Aremburg, I do-not -see any reason why I should interfere. At present, at any rate.' - -'I think, sire, M. de Turenne will see reason,' the gentleman answered -drily. - -The king coloured. 'M. de Turenne,' he began-- - -'Has made many sacrifices at your request, sire,' the other said with -meaning. 'And buried some wrongs, or fancied wrongs, in connection with -this very matter. This person has outraged him in the grossest manner, -and in M. le Vicomte's name I ask, nay I press upon you, that he be -instantly arrested, and held to answer for it.' - -'I am ready to answer for it now!' I retorted, looking from face to face -for sympathy, and finding none save in M. de la Noue's, who appeared -to regard me with grave approbation. 'To the Vicomte de Turenne, or the -person he may appoint to represent him.' - -'Enough!' Henry said, raising his hand and speaking in the tone of -authority he knew so well how to adopt. 'For you, M. d'Aremburg, I thank -you. Turenne is happy in his friend. But; this gentleman came to me of -his own free will and I do not think it consistent with my honour to -detain him without warning given. I grant him an hour to remove himself -from my neighbourhood. If he be found after that time has elapsed,' he -continued solemnly, 'his fate be on his own head. Gentlemen, we are late -already. Let us on.' - -I looked at him as he pronounced this sentence, and strove to find words -in which to make a final appeal to him. But no words came; and when he -bade me stand aside, I did so mechanically, remaining with my head bared -to the sunshine while the troop rode by. Some looked back at me with -curiosity, as at a man of whom they had heard a tale, and some with a -jeer on their lips; a few with dark looks of menace. When they were all -gone, and the servants who followed them had disappeared also, and I was -left to the inquisitive glances of the rabble who stood gaping after the -sight, I turned and went to the Cid, and loosed the horse with a feeling -of bitter disappointment. - -The plan which mademoiselle had proposed and I had adopted in the forest -by St. Gaultier--when it seemed to us that our long absence and the -great events of which we heard must have changed the world and opened a -path for our return--had failed utterly. Things were as they had been; -the strong were still strong, and friendship under bond to fear. Plainly -we should have shewn ourselves wiser had we taken the lowlier course, -and, obeying the warnings given us, waited the King of Navarre's -pleasure or the tardy recollection of Rosny. I had not then stood, as I -now stood, in instant jeopardy, nor felt the keen pangs of a separation -which bade fair to be lasting. She was safe, and that was much; but I, -after long service and brief happiness, must go out again alone, with -only memories to comfort me. - -It was Simon Fleix's voice which awakened me from this unworthy -lethargy--as selfish as it was useless--and, recalling me to myself, -reminded me that precious time was passing while I stood inactive. To -get at me he had forced his way through the curious crowd, and his face -was flushed. He plucked me by the sleeve, regarding the varlets round -him with a mixture of anger and fear. - -'Nom de Dieu! do they take you for a rope-dancer?' he muttered in my -ear. 'Mount, sir, and come. There is not a moment to be lost.' - -'You left her at Madame Catherine's?' I said. - -'To be sure,' he answered impatiently. 'Trouble not about her. Save -yourself, M. de Marsac. That is the thing to be done now.' - -I mounted mechanically, and felt my courage return as the horse moved -under me. I trotted through the crowd, and without thought took the road -by which we had come. When we had ridden a hundred yards, however, I -pulled up 'An hour is a short start,' I said sullenly. 'Whither?' - -'To St. Cloud,' he answered promptly. 'The protection of the King of -France may avail for a day or two. After that, there will still be the -League, if Paris have not fallen.' - -I saw there was nothing else for it, and assented, and we set off. The -distance which separates Meudon from St. Cloud we might have ridden -under the hour, but the direct road runs across the Scholars' Meadow, -a wide plain north of Meudon. This lay exposed to the enemy's fire, and -was, besides, the scene of hourly conflicts between the horse of both -parties, so that to cross it without an adequate force was impossible. -Driven to make a circuit, we took longer to reach our destination, yet -did so without mishap; finding the little town, when we came in sight -of it, given up to all the bustle and commotion which properly belong to -the Court and camp. - -It was, indeed, as full as it could be, for the surrender of Paris being -momentarily expected, St. Cloud had become the rendezvous as well of -the few who had long followed a principle as of the many who wait -upon success. The streets, crowded in, every part, shone with glancing -colours, with steel and velvet, the garb of fashion and the plumes of -war. Long lines of flags obscured the eaves and broke the sunshine, -while, above all, the bells of half a dozen churches rang merry answer -to the distant crash of guns. Everywhere on flag and arch and streamer -I read the motto, 'Vive le Roi!'--words written, God knew then, and we -know now, in what a mockery of doom! - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. ''TIS AN ILL WIND.' - -We had made our way slowly and with much jostling as far as the -principal street, finding the press increase as we advanced, when I -heard, as I turned a corner, my name called, and, looking up, saw at -a window the face of which I was in search. After that half a minute -sufficed to bring M. d'Agen flying to my side, when nothing, as I -had expected, would do but I must dismount where I was and share his -lodging. He made no secret of his joy and surprise at sight of me, but -pausing only to tell Simon where the stable was, haled me through the -crowd and up his stairs with a fervour and heartiness which brought the -tears to my eyes, and served to impress the company whom I found above -with a more than sufficient sense of my importance. - -Seeing him again in the highest feather and in the full employment of -all those little arts and graces which served as a foil to his real -worth, I took it as a great honour that he laid them aside for the -nonce; and introduced me to the seat of honour and made me known to his -companions with a boyish directness and a simple thought for my comfort -which infinitely pleased me. He bade his landlord, without a moment's -delay, bring wine and meat and everything which could refresh a -traveller, and was himself up and down a hundred times in a minute, -calling to his servants for this or that, or railing at them for their -failure to bring me a score of things I did not need. I hastened to make -my excuses to the company for interrupting them in the midst of their -talk; and these they were kind enough to accept in good part. At the -same time, reading clearly in M. d'Agen's excited face and shining eyes -that he longed to be alone with me, they took the hint, and presently -left us together. - -'Well,' he said, coming back from the door, to which he had conducted -them, 'what have you to tell me, my friend? She is not with you?' - -'She is with Mademoiselle de la Vire at Meudon,' I answered, smiling. -'And for the rest, she is well and in better spirits.' - -'She sent me some message? he asked. - -I shook my head. 'She did not know I should see you,' I answered. - -'But she--she has spoken of me lately?' he continued, his face falling. - -'I do not think she has named your name for a fortnight,' I answered, -laughing. 'There's for you! Why, man,' I continued, adopting a different -tone, and laying my hand on his shoulder in a manner which reassured -him at least; as much as my words, 'are you so young a lover as to be -ignorant that a woman says least of that of which she thinks most? -Pluck up, courage! Unless I am mistaken, you have little to be afraid of -except the past. Only have patience.' - -'You think so?' he said gratefully. - -I assured him that I had no doubt of it; and on that he fell into a -reverie, and I to watching him. Alas for the littleness of our natures! -He had received me with open arms, yet at sight of the happiness which -took possession of his handsome face I gave way to the pettiest feeling -which can harbour in a man's breast. I looked at him with eyes of envy, -bitterly comparing my lot with that which fate had reserved for him. He -had fortune, good looks, and success on his side, great relations, and -high hopes; I stood in instant jeopardy, my future dark, and every path -which presented itself so hazardous that I knew not which to adopt. He -was young, and I past my prime; he in favour, and I a fugitive. - -To such reflections he put an end in a way which made me blush for my -churlishness. For, suddenly awaking out, of his pleasant dream, he asked -me about myself and my fortunes, inquiring eagerly how I came to be in -St. Cloud, and listening to the story of my adventures with a generous -anxiety which endeared him to me more and more. When I had done--and by -that time Simon had joined us, and was waiting at the lower end of the -room--he pronounced that I must see the king. - -'There is nothing else for it,' he said. - -'I have come to see him,' I answered. - -'Mon dieu, yes!' he continued, rising from his seat and looking at me -with a face of concern. 'No one else can help you.' - -I nodded. - -'Turenne has four thousand men here. You can do nothing against so -many?' - -'Nothing,' I said. 'The question is, will the king protect me?' - -'It is he or no one,' M. d'Agen answered warmly. 'You cannot see him -to-night: he has a Council. To-morrow at daybreak you may. You must lie -here to-night, and I will set my fellows to watch, and I think you will -be safe. I will away now and see if my uncle will help. Can you think of -anyone else who would speak for you?' - -I considered, and was about to answer in the negative, when Simon, who -had listened with a scared face, suggested M. de Crillon. - -'Yes, if he would,' M. d'Agen exclaimed, looking at the lad with -approbation. 'He has weight with the king.' - -'I think he might,' I replied slowly. 'I had a curious encounter with -him last night. And with that I told M. d'Agen of the duel I fought at -the inn. - -'Good!' he said, his eyes sparkling. 'I wish I had been there to see. At -any rate we will try him. Crillon fears no one, not even the king.' - -So it was settled. For that night I was to keep close in my friend's -lodging, showing not even my nose at the window. - -When he had gone on his errand, and I found myself alone in the room, -I am fain to confess that I fell very low in my spirits. M. d'Agen's -travelling equipment lay about the apartment, but failed to give any but -an untidy air to its roomy bareness. The light was beginning to -wane, the sun was gone. Outside, the ringing of bells and the distant -muttering of guns, with the tumult of sounds which rose from the crowded -street, seemed to tell of joyous life and freedom, and all the hopes and -ambitions from which I was cut off. - -Having no other employment, I watched the street, and keeping myself -well retired from the window saw knots of gay riders pass this way and -that through the crowd, their corslets shining and their voices -high. Monks and ladies, a cardinal and an ambassador, passed under my -eyes--these and an endless procession of townsmen and beggars, soldiers -and courtiers, Gascons, Normans and Picards. Never had I seen such a -sight or so many people gathered together. It seemed as if half Paris -had come out to make submission, so that while my gorge rose against my -own imprisonment, the sight gradually diverted my mind from my private -distresses, by bidding me find compensation for them in the speedy and -glorious triumph of the cause. - -Even when the light failed the pageant did not cease, but, torches and -lanthorns springing into life, turned night into day. From every side -came sounds of revelry or strife. The crowd continued to perambulate -the streets until a late hour, with cries of 'VIVE LE ROI!' and 'VIVE -NAVARRE!' while now and again the passage of a great noble with his -suite called forth a fresh outburst of enthusiasm. Nothing seemed -more certain, more inevitable, more clearly predestinated than that -twenty-four hours must see the fall of Paris. - -Yet Paris did not fall. - -When M. d'Agen returned a little before midnight, he found me still -sitting in the dark looking from the window. I heard him call roughly -for lights, and apprised by the sound of his voice that something was -wrong, I rose to meet him. He stood silent awhile, twirling his small -moustaches, and then broke into a passionate tirade, from which I was -not slow to gather that M. de Rambouillet declined to serve me. - -'Well,' I said, feeling for the young man's distress and embarrassment, -'perhaps he is right.' - -'He says that word respecting you came this evening,' my friend -answered, his cheeks red with shame, 'and that to countenance you after -that would only be to court certain humiliation. I did not let him off -too easily, I assure you,' M. d'Agen continued, turning away to evade -my gaze; 'but I got no satisfaction. He said you had his good-will, and -that to help you he would risk something, but that to do so under these -circumstances would be only to injure himself.' - -'There is still Crillon,' I said, with as much cheerfulness as I could -assume. 'Pray Heaven he be there early! Did M. de Rambouillet say -anything else?' - -'That your only chance was to fly as quickly and secretly as possible.' - -'He thought; my situation desperate, then?' - -My friend nodded; and scarcely less depressed on my account than ashamed -on his own, evinced so much feeling that it was all I could do to -comfort him; which I succeeded in doing only when I diverted the -conversation to Madame de Bruhl. We passed the short night together, -sharing the same room and the same bed, and talking more than we -slept--of madame and mademoiselle, the castle on the hill, and the camp -in the woods, of all old days en fin, but little of the future. Soon -after dawn Simon, who lay on a pallet across the threshold, roused me -from a fitful sleep into which I had just fallen, and a few minutes -later I stood up dressed and armed, ready to try the last chance left to -me. - -M. d'Agen had dressed stage for stage with me, and I had kept silence. -But when he took up his cap, and showed clearly that he had it in his -mind to go with me, I withstood him. 'No, I said, 'you can do me little -good, and may do yourself much harm.' - -'You shall not go without one friend,' he cried fiercely. - -'Tut, tut!' I said. 'I shall have Simon.' - -But Simon, when I turned to speak to him, was gone. Few men are at their -bravest in the early hours of the day, and it did not surprise me that -the lad's courage had failed him. The defection only strengthened, -however, the resolution I had formed that I would not injure M. d'Agen; -though it was some time before I could persuade him that I was in -earnest, and would go alone or not at all. In the end he had to content -himself with lending me his back and breast, which I gladly put on, -thinking it likely enough that I might be set upon before I reached the -castle. And then, the time being about seven, I parted from him with -many embraces and kindly words, and went into the street with my sword -under my cloak. - -The town, late in rising after its orgy, lay very still and quiet. The -morning was grey and warm, with a cloudy sky. The flags, which had made -so gay, a show yesterday, hung close to the poles, or flapped idly and -fell dead again. I walked slowly along beneath them, keeping a sharp -look-out on every side; but there were few persons moving in the -streets, and I reached the Castle gates without misadventure. Here was -something of life; a bustle of officers and soldiers passing in and out, -of courtiers whose office made their presence necessary, of beggars who -had flocked hither in the night for company. In the middle of these I -recognised on a sudden and with great surprise Simon Fleix walking my -horse up and down. On seeing me he handed it to a boy, and came up to -speak to me with a red face, muttering that four legs were better than -two. I did not say much to him, my heart being full and my thoughts -occupied with the presence chamber and what I should say there; but -I nodded kindly to him, and he fell in behind me as the sentries -challenged me. I answered them that I sought M. de Crillon, and so -getting by, fell into the rear of a party of three who seemed bent on -the same errand as myself. - -One of these was a Jacobin monk, whose black and white robes, by -reminding me of Father Antoine, sent a chill to my heart. The -second, whose eye I avoided, I knew to be M. la Guesle, the king's -Solicitor-General. The third was a stranger to me. Enabled by M. la -Guesle's presence to pass the main guards without challenge, the party -proceeded through a maze of passages and corridors, conversing together -in a low tone; while I, keeping in their train with my face cunningly -muffled, got as far by this means as the ante-chamber, which I found -almost empty. Here I inquired of the usher for M. de Crillon, and -learned with the utmost consternation that he was not present. - -This blow, which almost stunned me, opened my eyes to the precarious -nature of my position, which only the early hour and small attendance -rendered possible for a moment. At any minute I might be recognised -and questioned, or my name be required; while the guarded doors of the -chamber shut me off as effectually from the king's face and grace as -though I were in Paris, or a hundred leagues away. Endeavouring to the -best of my power to conceal the chagrin and alarm which possessed me as -this conviction took hold of me, I walked to the window; and to hide my -face more completely and at the same time gain a moment to collect my -thoughts, affected to be engaged in looking through it. - -Nothing which passed in the room, however, escaped me. I marked -everything and everyone, though all my thought was how I might get to -the king. The barber came out of the chamber with a silver basin, and -stood a moment, and went in again with an air of vast importance. The -guards yawned, and an officer entered, looked round, and retired. M. la -Guesle, who had gone in to the presence, came out again and stood near -me talking with the Jacobin, whose pale nervous face and hasty movements -reminded me somehow of Simon Fleix. The monk held a letter or petition -in his hand, and appeared to be getting it by heart, for his lips moved -continually. The light which fell on his face from the window showed it -to be of a peculiar sweaty pallor, and distorted besides. But supposing -him to be devoted, like many of his kind, to an unwholesome life, I -thought nothing of this; though I liked him little, and would have -shifted my place but for the convenience of his neighbourhood. - -Presently, while I was cudgelling my brains, a person came out and spoke -to La Guesle; who called in his turn to the monk, and started hastily -towards the door. The Jacobin followed. The third person who had entered -in their company had his attention directed elsewhere at the moment; and -though La Guesle called to him, took no heed. On the instant I grasped -the situation. Taking my courage in my hands, I crossed the floor behind -the monk; who, hearing me, or feeling his robe come in contact with -me, presently started and looked round suspiciously, his face wearing a -scowl so black and ugly that I almost recoiled from him, dreaming for -a moment that I saw before me the very spirit of Father Antoine. But as -the man said nothing, and the next instant averted his gaze, I hardened -my heart and pushed on behind him, and passing the usher, found myself -as by magic in the presence which had seemed a while ago as unattainable -by my wits as it was necessary to my safety. - -It was not this success alone, however, which caused my heart to beat -more hopefully. The king was speaking as I entered, and the gay tones -of his voice seemed to promise a favourable reception. His Majesty sat -half-dressed on a stool at the farther end of the apartment, surrounded -by five or six noblemen, while as many attendants, among whom I hastened -to mingle, waited near the door. - -La Guesle made as if he would advance, and then, seeing the king's -attention was not on him, held back. But in a moment the king saw him -and called to him. 'Ha, Guesle!' he said with good-temper, 'is it you? -Is your friend with you?' - -The Solicitor went forward with the monk at his elbow, and I had leisure -to remark the favourable change which had taken place in the king, who -spoke more strongly and seemed in better health than of old. His -face looked less cadaverous under the paint, his form a trifle less -emaciated. That which struck me more than anything, however, was the -improvement in his spirits. His eyes sparkled from time to time, and he -laughed continually, so that I could scarcely believe that he was the -same man whom I had seen overwhelmed with despair and tortured by his -conscience. - -Letting his attention slip from La Guesle, he began to bandy words with -the nobleman who stood nearest to him; looking up at him with a roguish -eye, and making bets on the fall of Paris. - -'Morbleu!' I heard him cry gaily, 'I would give a thousand pounds to see -the 'Montpensier this morning! She may keep her third crown for -herself. Or, PESTE! we might put her in a convent. That would be a fine -vengeance!' - -'The veil for the tonsure,' the nobleman said with a smirk. - -'Ay. Why not? She would have made a monk of me,' the king rejoined -smartly. 'She must be ready to hang herself with her garters this -morning, if she is not dead of spite already. Or, stay, I had forgotten -her golden scissors. Let her open a vein with them. Well, what does your -friend want, La Guesle?' - -I did not hear the answer, but it was apparently satisfactory, for in -a minute all except the Jacobin fell back, leaving the monk standing -before the king; who, stretching out his hand, took from him a letter. -The Jacobin, trembling visibly, seemed scarcely able to support the -honour done him, and the king, seeing this, said in a voice audible -to all, 'Stand up, man. You are welcome. I love a cowl as some love a -lady's hood. And now, what is this?' - -He read a part of the letter and rose. As he did so the monk leaned -forward as though to receive the paper back again, and then so swiftly, -so suddenly, with so unexpected a movement that no one stirred until all -was over, struck the king in the body with a knife! As the blade flashed -and was hidden, and His Majesty with a deep sob fell back on the stool, -then, and not till then, I knew that I had missed a providential chance -of earning pardon and protection. For had I only marked the Jacobin as -we passed the door together, and read his evil face aright, a word, one -word, had done for me more than the pleading of a score of Crillons! - -Too late a dozen sprang forward to the king's assistance; but before -they reached him he had himself drawn the knife from the wound and -struck the assassin with it on the head. While some, with cries of -grief, ran to support Henry, from whose body the blood was already -flowing fast, others seized and struck down the wretched monk. As they -gathered round him I saw him raise himself for a moment on his knees and -look upward; the blood which ran down his face, no less than the -mingled triumph and horror of his features, impressed the sight on -my recollection. The next instant three swords were plunged into -his breast, and his writhing body, plucked up from the floor amid a -transport of curses, was forced headlong through the casement and flung -down to make sport for the grooms and scullions who stood below. - -A scene of indescribable confusion followed, some crying that the -king was dead, while others called for a doctor, and some by name for -Dortoman. I expected to see the doors closed and all within secured, -that if the man had confederates they might be taken. But there was no -one to give the order. Instead, many who had neither the ENTREE nor -any business in the chamber forced their way in, and by their cries and -pressure rendered the hub-bub and tumult a hundred times worse. In the -midst of this, while I stood stunned and dumbfounded, my own risks and -concerns forgotten, I felt my sleeve furiously plucked, and, looking -round, found Simon at my elbow. The lad's face was crimson, his eyes -seemed, starting from his head. - -'Come,' he muttered, seizing my arm. 'Come!' And without further -ceremony or explanation he dragged me towards the door, while his face -and manner evinced as much heat and impatience as if he had been himself -the assassin. 'Come, there is not a moment to be lost,' he panted, -continuing his exertions without the least intermission. - -'Whither?' I said, in amazement, as I reluctantly permitted him to -force me along the passage and through the gaping crowd on the stairs. -'Whither, man?' - -'Mount and ride!' was the answer he hissed in my ear. 'Ride for your -life to the King of Navarre--to the King of France it may be! Ride as -you have never ridden before, and tell him the news, and bid him look -to himself! Be the first, and, Heaven helping us, Turenne may do his -worst!' - -I felt every nerve in my body tingle as I awoke to his meaning. Without -a word I left his arm, and flung myself into the crowd which filled the -lower passage to suffocation. As I struggled fiercely with them Simon -aided me by crying 'A doctor! a doctor! make way there!' and this -induced many to give place to me under the idea that I was an accredited -messenger. Eventually I succeeded in forcing my way through and reaching -the courtyard; being, as it turned out, the first person to issue from -the Chateau. A dozen people sprang towards me with anxious eyes and -questions on their lips; but I ran past them and, catching the Cid, -which was fortunately at hand, by the rein, bounded into the saddle. - -As I turned the horse to the gate I heard Simon cry after me. 'The -Scholars' Meadow! Go that way!' and then I heard no more. I was out of -the yard and galloping bare-headed down the pitched street, while women -snatched their infants up and ran aside, and men came startled to the -doors, crying that the League was upon us. As the good horse flung up -his head and bounded forward, hurling the gravel behind him with hoofs -which slid and clattered on the pavement, as the wind began to whistle -by me, and I seized the reins in a shorter grip, I felt my heart bound -with exultation. I experienced such a blessed relief and elation as the -prisoner long fettered and confined feels when restored to the air of -heaven. - -Down one street and through a narrow lane we thundered, until a broken -gateway stopped with fascines--through which the Cid blundered and -stumbled--brought us at a bound into the Scholars' Meadow just as the -tardy sun broke through the clouds and flooded the low, wide plain with -brightness. Half a league in front of us the towers of Meudon rose to -view on a hill. In the distance, to the left, lay the walls of Paris, -and nearer, on the same side, a dozen forts and batteries; while here -and there, in that quarter, a shining clump of spears or a dense mass of -infantry betrayed the enemy's presence. - -I heeded none of these things, however, nor anything except the towers -of Meudon, setting the Cid's head straight for these and riding on at -the top of his speed. Swiftly ditch and dyke came into view before us -and flashed away beneath us. Men lying in pits rose up and aimed at us; -or ran with cries to intercept us. A cannon-shot fired from the fort -by Issy tore up the earth to one side; a knot of lancers sped from the -shelter of an earthwork in the same quarter, and raced us for half a -mile, with frantic shouts and threats of vengeance. But all such efforts -were vanity. The Cid, fired by this sudden call upon his speed, and -feeling himself loosed--rarest of events--to do his best, shook the foam -from his bit, and opening his blood-red nostrils to the wind, crouched -lower and lower; until his long neck, stretched out before him, seemed, -as the sward swept by, like the point of an arrow speeding resistless to -its aim. - -God knows, as the air rushed by me and the sun shone in my face, I cried -aloud like a boy, and though I sat still and stirred neither hand nor -foot, lest I should break the good Sard's stride, I prayed wildly that -the horse which I had groomed with my own hands and fed with my last -crown might hold on unfaltering to the end. For I dreamed that the fate -of a nation rode in my saddle; and mindful alike of Simon's words, 'Bid -him look to himself,' and of my own notion that the League would not be -so foolish as to remove one enemy to exalt another, I thought nothing -more likely than that, with all my fury, I should arrive too late, and -find the King of Navarre as I had left the King of France. - -In this strenuous haste I covered a mile as a mile has seldom been -covered before; and I was growing under the influence of the breeze -which whipped my temples somewhat more cool and hopeful, when I saw on -a sudden right before me, and between me and Meudon, a handful of men -engaged in a MELEE. There were red and white jackets in it--leaguers and -Huguenots--and the red coats seemed to be having the worst of it. Still, -while I watched, they came off in order, and unfortunately in such a way -and at such a speed that I saw they must meet me face to face whether -I tried to avoid the encounter or not. I had barely time to take in the -danger and its nearness, and discern beyond both parties the main-guard -of the Huguenots, enlivened by a score of pennons, when the Leaguers -were upon me. - -I suppose they knew that no friend would ride for Meudon at that pace, -for they dashed at me six abreast with a shout of triumph; and before -I could count a score we met. The Cid was still running strongly, and I -had not thought to stay him, so that I had no time to use my pistols. My -sword I had out, but the sun dazzled me and the men wore corslets, and I -made but poor play with it; though I struck out savagely, as we crashed -together, in my rage at this sudden crossing of my hopes when all seemed -done and gained. The Cid faced them bravely--I heard the distant huzza -of the Huguenots--and I put aside one point which threatened my throat. -But the sun was in my eyes and something struck me on the head. Another -second, and a blow in the breast forced me fairly from the saddle. -Gripping furiously at the air I went down, stunned and dizzy, my last -thought as I struck the ground being of mademoiselle, and the little -brook with the stepping-stones. - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. 'LE ROI EST MORT!' - -It was M. d'Agen's breastpiece saved my life by warding off the point -of the varlet's sword, so that the worst injury I got was the loss of -my breath for five minutes, with a swimming in the head and a kind of -syncope. These being past, I found myself on my back on the ground, with -a man's knee on my breast and a dozen horsemen standing round me. The -sky reeled dizzily before my eyes and the men's figures loomed gigantic; -yet I had sense enough to know what had happened to me, and that matters -might well be worse. - -Resigning myself to the prospect of captivity, I prepared to ask for -quarter; which I did not doubt I should receive, since they had taken -me in an open skirmish, and honestly, and in the daylight. But the man -whose knee already incommoded me sufficiently, seeing me about to speak, -squeezed me on a sudden so fiercely, bidding me at the same time in a -gruff whisper be silent, that I thought I could not do better than obey. - -Accordingly I lay still, and as in a dream, for my brain was still -clouded, heard someone say, 'Dead! Is he? I hoped we had come in time. -Well, he deserved a better fate. Who is he, Rosny?' - -'Do you know him, Maignan?' said a voice which sounded strangely -familiar. - -The man who knelt; upon me answered, 'No, my lord. He is a stranger to -me. He has the look of a Norman.' - -'Like enough!' replied a high-pitched voice I had not heard before. 'For -he rode a good horse. Give me a hundred like it, and a hundred men to -ride as straight, and I would not envy the King of France.' - -'Much less his poor cousin of Navarre,' the first speaker rejoined in a -laughing tone, 'without a whole shirt to his back or a doublet that is -decently new. Come, Turenne, acknowledge that you are not so badly off -after all!' - -At that word the cloud which had darkened my faculties swept on a sudden -aside. I saw that the men into whose hands I had fallen wore white -favours, their leader a white plume; and comprehended without more that -the King of Navarre had come to my rescue, and beaten off the Leaguers -who had dismounted me. At the same moment the remembrance of all that -had gone before, and especially of the scene I had witnessed in the -king's chamber, rushed upon my mind with such overwhelming force that I -fell into a fury of impatience at the thought of the time I had wasted; -and rising up suddenly I threw off Maignan with all my force, crying out -that I was alive--that I was alive, and had news. - -The equerry did his best to restrain me, cursing me under his breath for -a fool, and almost; squeezing the life out of me. But in vain, for the -King of Navarre, riding nearer, saw me struggling. 'Hallo! hallo! 'tis a -strange dead man,' he cried, interposing. 'What is the meaning of this? -Let him go! Do you hear, sirrah? Let him go!' - -The equerry obeyed and stood back sullenly, and I staggered to my feet, -and looked round with eyes which still swam and watered. On the -instant a cry of recognition greeted me, with a hundred exclamations -of astonishment. While I heard my name uttered on every side in a dozen -different tones, I remarked that M. de Rosny, upon whom my eyes -first fell, alone stood silent, regarding me with a face of sorrowful -surprise. - -'By heavens, sir, I knew nothing of this!' I heard the King of Navarre -declare, addressing himself to the Vicomte de Turenne. 'The man is here -by no connivance of mine. Interrogate him yourself, if you will. Or I -will. Speak, sir,' he continued, turning to me with his countenance hard -and forbidding. 'You heard me yesterday, what I promised you? Why, in -God's name, are you here to-day?' - -I tried to answer, but Maignan had so handled me that I had not breath -enough, and stood panting. - -'Your Highness's clemency in this matter,' M. de Turenne said, with a -sneer, 'has been so great he trusted to its continuance. And doubtless -he thought to find you alone. I fear I am in the way.' - -I knew him by his figure and his grand air, which in any other company -would have marked him for master; and forgetting the impatience which -a moment before had consumed me--doubtless I was still light-headed--I -answered him. 'Yet I had once the promise of your lordship's -protection,' I gasped. - -'My protection, sir?' he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming angrily. - -'Even so,' I answered. 'At the inn at Etampes, where M. de Crillon would -have fought me.' - -He was visibly taken aback. 'Are you that man?' he cried. - -'I am. But I am not here to prate of myself,' I replied. And with -that--the remembrance of my neglected errand flashing on me again--I -staggered to the King of Navarre's side, and, falling on my knees, -seized his stirrup. 'Sire, I bring you news! great news! dreadful news!' -I cried, clinging to it. 'His Majesty was but a quarter of an hour ago -stabbed in the body in his chamber by a villain monk. And is dying, or, -it may be, dead.' - -'Dead? The King!' Turenne cried with an oath. 'Impossible!' - -Vaguely I heard others crying, some this, some that, as surprise and -consternation, or anger, or incredulity moved them. But I did not answer -them, for Henry, remaining silent, held me spellbound and awed by the -marvellous change which I saw fall on his face. His eyes became on a -sudden suffused with blood, and seemed to retreat under his heavy brows; -his cheeks turned of a brick-red colour; his half-open lips showed his -teeth gleaming through his beard; while his great nose, which seemed -to curve and curve until it well-nigh met his chin, gave to his mobile -countenance an aspect as strange as it was terrifying. Withal he uttered -for a time no word, though I saw his hand, grip the riding-whip he held -in a convulsive grasp, as though his thought were ''Tis mine! Mine! -Wrest it away who dares!' - -'Bethink you, sir,' he said at last, fixing his piercing eyes on me, and -speaking in a harsh, low tone, like the growling of a great dog, 'this -is no jesting-time. Nor will you save your skin by a ruse. Tell me, on -your peril, is this a trick?' - -'Heaven forbid, sire!' I answered with passion. 'I was in the chamber, -and saw it; with my own eyes. I mounted on the instant, and rode hither -by the shortest route to warn your Highness to look to yourself. Monks -are many, and the Holy Union is not apt to stop half-way.' - -I saw he believed me, for his face relaxed. His breath seemed to come -and go again, and for the tenth part of a second his eyes sought M. de -Rosny's. Then he looked at me again. - -'I thank you, sir, he said, bowing gravely and courteously, 'for your -care for me--not for your tidings, which are of the sorriest. God grant -my good cousin and king may be hurt only. Now tell us exactly--for these -gentlemen are equally interested with myself--had a surgeon seen him?' - -I replied in the negative, but added that the wound was in the groin, -and bled much. - -'You said a few minutes ago, "dying or already dead!"' the King of -Navarre rejoined. 'Why?' - -'His Majesty's face was sunken,' I stammered. - -He nodded. 'You may be mistaken,' he said. 'I pray that you are. But -here comes Mornay. He may know more.' - -In a moment I was abandoned, even by M. de Turenne, so great was the -anxiety which possessed all to learn the truth. Maignan alone, under -pretence of adjusting a stirrup, remained beside me, and entreated me in -a low voice to begone. 'Take this horse, M. de Marsac, if you will,' he -urged, 'and ride back the way you came. You have done what you came to -do. Go back, and be thankful.' - -'Chut!' I said, 'there is no danger.' - -'You will see,' he replied darkly, 'if you stay here. Come, come, take -my advice and the horse,' he persisted, 'and begone! Believe me, it will -be for the best.' - -I laughed outright at his earnestness and his face of perplexity. 'I see -you have M. de Rosny's orders to get rid of me,' I said. 'But I am not -going, my friend. He must find some other way out of his embarrassment, -for here I stay.' - -'Well, your blood be on your own head,' Maignan retorted, swinging -himself into the saddle with a gloomy face. 'I have done my best to save -you!' - -'And your master!' I answered, laughing. - -For flight was the last thing I had in my mind. I had ridden this ride -with a clear perception that the one thing I needed was a footing at -Court. By the special kindness of Providence I had now gained this; -and I was not the man to resign it because it proved to be scanty and -perilous. It was something that I had spoken to the great Vicomte face -to face and not been consumed, that I had given him look for look and -still survived, that I had put in practice Crillon's lessons and come to -no harm. - -Nor was this all. I had never in the worst times blamed the King of -Navarre for his denial of me, I had been foolish, indeed, seeing that it -was in the bargain, had I done so; nor had I ever doubted his good-will -or his readiness to reward me should occasion arise. Now, I flattered -myself, I had given him that which he needed, and had hitherto -lacked--an excuse, I mean, for interference in my behalf. - -Whether I was right or wrong in this notion I was soon to learn, for at -this moment Henry's cavalcade, which had left me a hundred paces behind, -came to a stop, and while some of the number waved to me to come on, one -spurred back to summon me to the king. I hastened to obey the order -as fast as I could, but I saw on approaching that though all was at a -standstill till I came up, neither the King of Navarre nor M. de Turenne -was thinking principally of me. Every face, from Henry's to that of his -least important courtier, wore an air of grave preoccupation; which I -had no difficulty in ascribing to the doubt present in every mind, and -outweighing every interest, whether the King of France was dead, or -dying, or merely wounded. - -'Quick, sir!' Henry said with impatience, as soon as I came within -hearing. 'Do not detain me with your affairs longer than is necessary. -M. de Turenne presses me to carry into effect the order I gave -yesterday. But as you have placed yourself in jeopardy on my account I -feel that something is due to you. You will be good enough, therefore, -to present yourself at once at M. la Varenne's lodging, and give me -your parole to remain there without stirring abroad until your affair is -concluded.' - -Aware that I owed this respite, which at once secured my present safety -and promised well for the future, to the great event that, even in M. de -Turenne's mind, had overshadowed all others, I bowed in silence. Henry, -however, was not content with this. 'Come, sir,' he said sharply, and -with every appearance of anger, 'do you agree to that?' - -I replied humbly that I thanked him for his clemency. - -'There is no need of thanks,' he replied coldly. 'What I have done is -without prejudice to M. de Turenne's complaint. He must have justice.' - -I bowed again, and in a moment the troop were gone at a gallop towards -Meudon, whence, as I afterwards learned, the King of Navarre, attended -by a select body of five-and-twenty horsemen, wearing private arms, -rode on at full speed to St. Cloud to present himself at his Majesty's -bedside. A groom who had caught the Cid, which had escaped into the town -with no other injury than a slight wound in the shoulder, by-and-by met -me with the horse; and in this way I was enabled to render myself with -some decency at Varenne's lodging, a small house at the foot of the -hill, not far from the Castle-gate. - -Here I found myself under no greater constraint than that which my own -parole laid upon me; and my room having the conveniency of a window -looking upon the public street, I was enabled from hour to hour to -comprehend and enter into the various alarms and surprises which made -that day remarkable. The manifold reports which flew from mouth to mouth -on the occasion, as well as the overmastering excitement which seized -all, are so well remembered, however, that I forbear to dwell upon them, -though they served to distract my mind from my own position. Suffice it -that at one moment we heard that His Majesty was dead, at another that -the wound was skin deep, and again that we might expect him at Meudon -before sunset. The rumour that the Duchess de Montpensier had taken -poison was no sooner believed than we were asked to listen to the guns -of Paris firing FEUX DE JOIE in honour of the King's death. - -The streets were so closely packed with persons telling and hearing -these tales that I seemed from my window to be looking on a fair. Nor -was all my amusement withoutdoors; for a number of the gentlemen of the -Court, hearing that I had been at St. Cloud in the morning, and in the -very chamber, a thing which made me for the moment the most desirable -companion in the world, remembered on a sudden that they had a slight -acquaintance with me, and honoured me by calling upon me and sitting -a great part of the day with me. From which circumstance I confess I -derived as much hope as they diversion; knowing that courtiers are the -best weather-prophets in the world, who hate nothing so much as to be -discovered in the company of those on whom the sun does not shine. - -The return of the King of Navarre, which happened about the middle of -the afternoon, while it dissipated the fears of some and dashed the -hopes of others, put an end to this state of uncertainty by confirming, -to the surprise of many, that His Majesty was in no danger. We learned -with varying emotions that the first appearances, which had deceived, -not myself only, but experienced leeches, had been themselves belied by -subsequent conditions; and that, in a word, Paris had as much to fear, -and loyal men as much to hope, as before this wicked and audacious -attempt. - -I had no more than stomached this surprising information, which was less -welcome to me, I confess, than it should have been, when the arrival of -M. d'Agen, who greeted me with the affection which he never failed to -show me, distracted my thoughts for a time. Immediately on learning -where I was and, the strange adventures which had befallen me he had -ridden off; stopping only once, when he had nearly reached me, for the -purpose of waiting on Madame de Bruhl. I asked him how she had received -him. - -'Like herself,' he replied with an ingenuous blush. 'More kindly than I -had a right to expect, if not as warmly as I had the courage to hope.' - -'That will come with time,' I said, laughing. 'And Mademoiselle de la -Vire?' - -'I did not see her,' he answered, 'but I heard she was well. And a -hundred fathoms deeper in love,' he added, eyeing me roguishly, 'than -when I saw her last.' - -It was my turn to colour now, and I did so, feeling all the pleasure -and delight such a statement was calculated to afford me. Picturing -mademoiselle as I had seen her last, leaning from her horse with love -written so plainly on her weeping face that all who ran might read, I -sank into so delicious a reverie that M. la Varenne, entering suddenly, -surprised us both before another word passed on either side. - -His look and tone were as abrupt as it was in his nature, which was soft -and compliant, to make them. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, 'I am sorry to -put any constraint upon you, but I am directed to forbid you to your -friends. And I must request this gentleman to withdraw.' - -'But all day my friends have come in and out,' I said with surprise. 'Is -this a new order?' - -'A written order, which reached me no farther back than two minutes ago, -'he answered plainly. 'I am also directed to remove you to a room at the -back of the house, that you may not overlook the street.' - -'But my parole was taken,' I cried, with a natural feeling of -indignation. - -He shrugged his shoulders. 'I am sorry to say that I have nothing to -do with that,' he answered. 'I can only obey orders. I must ask this -gentleman, therefore, to withdraw.' - -Of course M. d'Agen had no option but to leave me; which he did, I could -see, notwithstanding his easy and confident expressions, with a good -deal of mistrust and apprehension. When he was gone, La Varenne lost -no time in carrying out the remainder of his orders. As a consequence I -found myself confined to a small and gloomy apartment which looked, at -a distance of three paces, upon the smooth face of the rock on which the -Castle stood. This change, from a window which commanded all the life -of the town, and intercepted every breath of popular fancy, to a closet -whither no sounds penetrated, and where the very transition from noon to -evening scarcely made itself known, could not fail to depress my spirits -sensibly; the more as I took it to be significant of a change in my -fortunes fully as grave. Reflecting that I must now appear to the King -of Navarre in the light of a bearer of false tidings, I associated the -order to confine me more closely with his return from St. Cloud; and -comprehending that M. de Turenne was once more at liberty to attend to -my affairs, I began to look about me with forebodings which were none -the less painful because the parole I had given debarred me from any -attempt to escape. - -Sleep and habit enabled me, nevertheless, to pass the night in comfort. -Very early in the morning a great firing of guns, which made itself -heard even in my quarters, led me to suppose that Paris had surrendered; -but the servant who brought me my breakfast; declined in a surly fashion -to give me any information. In the end, I spent the whole day alone, my -thoughts divided between my mistress and my own prospects, which seemed -to grow more and more gloomy as the hours succeeded one another. No one -came near me, no step broke the silence of the house; and for a while -I thought my guardians had forgotten even that I needed food. This -omission, it is true, was made good about sunset, but still M. la -Varenne did not appear, the servant seemed to be dumb, and I heard no -sounds in the house. - -I had finished my meal an hour or more, and the room was growing dark, -when the silence was at last broken by quick steps passing along the -entrance. They paused, and seemed to hesitate at the foot of the stairs, -but the next moment they came on again, and stopped at my door. I rose -from my seat on hearing the key turned in the lock, and my astonishment -may be conceived when I saw no other than M. de Turenne enter, and close -the door behind him. - -He saluted me in a haughty manner as he advanced to the table, raising -his cap for an instant and then replacing it. This done he stood looking -at me, and I at him, in a silence which on my side was the result of -pure astonishment; on his, of contempt and a kind of wonder. The evening -light, which was fast failing, lent a sombre whiteness to his face, -causing it to stand out from the shadows behind him in a way which was -not without its influence on me. - -'Well!' he said at, last, speaking slowly and with unimaginable -insolence, 'I am here to look at you!' - -I felt my anger rise, and gave him back look for look. 'At your will,' I -said, shrugging my shoulders. - -'And to solve a question,' he continued in the same tone. 'To learn -whether the man who was mad enough to insult and defy me was the old -penniless dullard some called him, or the dare-devil others painted -him.' - -'You are satisfied now?' I said. - -He eyed me for a moment closely; then with sudden heat he cried, 'Curse -me if I am! Nor whether I have to do with a man very deep or very -shallow, a fool or a knave!' - -'You may say what you please to a prisoner,' I retorted coldly. - -'Turenne commonly does--to whom he pleases!' he answered. The next -moment he made me start by saying, as he drew out a comfit-box and -opened it, 'I am just from the little fool you have bewitched. If she -were in my power I would have her whipped and put on bread and water -till she came to her senses. As she is not, I must take another way. -Have you any idea, may I ask,' he continued in his cynical tone, 'what -is going to become of you, M. de Marsac?' - -I replied, my heart inexpressibly lightened by what he had said of -mademoiselle, that I placed the fullest confidence in the justice of the -King of Navarre. - -He repeated the name in a tone, I did not understand. - -'Yes, sir, the King of Navarre,' I answered firmly. - -'Well, I daresay you have good reason to do so,' he rejoined with a -sneer. 'Unless I am mistaken he knew a little more of this affair than -he acknowledges.' - -'Indeed? The King of Navarre?' I said, staring stolidly at him. - -'Yes, indeed, indeed, the King of Navarre!' he retorted, mimicking me, -with a nearer approach to anger than I had yet witnessed in him. 'But -let him be a moment, sirrah!' he continued, 'and do you listen to me. Or -first look at that. Seeing is believing.' - -He drew out as he spoke a paper, or, to speak more correctly, a -parchment, which he thrust with a kind of savage scorn into my hand. -Repressing for the moment the surprise I felt, I took it to the window, -and reading it with difficulty, found it to be a royal patent drawn, -as far as I could judge, in due form, and appointing some person -unknown--for the name was left blank--to the post of Lieutenant-Governor -of the Armagnac, with a salary of twelve thousand livres a year! - -'Well, sir?' he said impatiently. - -'Well?' I answered mechanically. For my brain reeled; the exhibition of -such a paper in such a way raised extraordinary thoughts in my mind. - -'Can you read it?' he asked. - -'Certainly,' I answered, telling myself that he would fain play a trick -on me. - -'Very well,' he replied, 'then listen. I am going to condescend; to make -you an offer, M. de Marsac. I will procure you your freedom, and fill up -the blank, which you see there, with your name--upon one condition.' - -I stared at him with all the astonishment it was natural for me to feel -in the face, of such a proposition. 'You will confer this office on me?' -I muttered incredulously. - -'The king having placed it at my disposal,' he answered, 'I will. But -first let me remind you,' he went on proudly, 'that the affair has -another side. On the one hand I offer you such employment, M. de Marsac, -as should satisfy your highest ambition. On the other, I warn you that -my power to avenge myself is no less to-day than it was yesterday; and -that if I condescend to buy you, it is because that course commends -itself to me for reasons, not because it is the only one open.' - -I bowed. 'The condition, M. le Vicomte?' I said huskily, beginning to -understand him. - -'That you give up all claim and suit to the hand of my kinswoman,' he -answered lightly. 'That is all. It is a simple and easy condition.' - -I looked at him in renewed astonishment, in wonder, in stupefaction; -asking myself a hundred questions. Why did he stoop to bargain, who -could command? Why did he condescend to treat, who held me at his mercy? -Why did he gravely discuss my aspirations, to whom they must seem the -rankest presumption? Why?--but I could not follow it. I stood looking at -him in silence; in perplexity as great as if he had offered me the Crown -of France; in amazement and doubt and suspicion that knew no bounds. - -'Well!' he said at last, misreading the emotion which appeared in my -face. 'You consent, sir?' - -'Never!' I answered firmly. - -He started. 'I think I cannot have heard you aright,' he said, speaking -slowly and almost courteously. 'I offer you a great place and my -patronage, M. de Marsac. Do I understand that you prefer a prison and my -enmity?' - -'On those conditions,' I answered. - -'Think, think!' he said harshly. - -'I have thought,' I answered. - -'Ay, but have you thought where you are?' he retorted. 'Have you thought -how many obstacles lie between you and this little fool? How many -persons you must win over, how many friends you must gain? Have you -thought what it will be to have me against you in this, or which of us -is more likely to win in the end?' - -'I have thought,' I rejoined. - -But my voice shook, my lips were dry. The room had grown dark. The rock -outside, intercepting the light, gave it already the air of a dungeon. -Though I did not dream of yielding to him, though I even felt that in -this interview he had descended to my level, and I had had the better of -him, I felt my heart sink. For I remembered how men immured in prisons -drag out their lives always petitioning, always forgotten; how wearily -the days go, that to free men are bright with hope and ambition. And I -saw in a flash what it would be to remain here, or in some such place; -never to cross horse again, or breathe the free air of Heaven, never -to hear the clink of sword against stirrup, or the rich tones of M. -d'Agen's voice calling for his friend! - -I expected M. de Turenne to go when I had made my answer, or else to -fall into such a rage as opposition is apt to cause in those who seldom -encounter it. To my surprise, however, he restrained himself. 'Come,' he -said, with patience which fairly astonished me, and so much the more -as chagrin was clearly marked in his voice, 'I know where you put your -trust. You think the King of Navarre will protect you. Well, I pledge -you the honour of Turenne that he will not; that the King of Navarre -will do nothing to save you. Now, what do you say?' - -'As I said before,' I answered doggedly. - -He took up the parchment from the table with a grim laugh. 'So much -the worse for you then!' he said, shrugging his shoulders. 'So much the -worse for you! I took you for a rogue! It seems you are a fool!' - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. 'VIVE LE ROI!' - -He took his leave with those words. But his departure, which I -should have hailed a few minutes before with joy, as a relief from -embarrassment and humiliation, found me indifferent. The statement to -which he had solemnly pledged himself in regard to the King of Navarre, -that I could expect no further help from him, had prostrated me; dashing -my hopes and spirits so completely that I remained rooted to the spot -long after his step had ceased to sound on the stairs. If what he said -was true, in the gloom which darkened alike my room and my prospects -I could descry no glimmer of light. I knew His Majesty's weakness and -vacillation too well to repose any confidence in him; if the King -of Navarre also abandoned me, I was indeed without hope, as without -resource. - -I had stood some time with my mind painfully employed upon this problem, -which my knowledge of M. de Turenne's strict honour in private matters -did not allow me to dismiss lightly, when I heard another step on the -stairs, and in a moment M. la Varenne opened the door. Finding me in the -dark he muttered an apology for the remissness of the servants; which I -accepted, seeing nothing else for it, in good part. - -'We have been at sixes-and-sevens all day, and you have been forgotten,' -he continued. 'But you will have no reason to complain now. I am ordered -to conduct you to His Majesty without delay.' - -'To St. Cloud?' I exclaimed, greatly astonished. - -'No, the king of France is here,' he answered. - -'At Meudon?' - -'To be sure. Why not?' - -I expressed my wonder at his Majesty's rapid recovery. - -'Pooh!' he answered roughly. 'He is as well as he ever was. I will leave -you my light. Be good enough to descend as soon as you are ready, for it -is ill work keeping kings waiting. Oh! and I had forgotten one thing,' -he continued, returning when he had already reached the door. 'My orders -are to see that you do not hold converse with anyone until you have seen -the king, M. de Marsac. You will kindly remember this if we are kept -waiting in the antechamber.' - -'Am I to be transported to--other custody?' I asked, my mind full of -apprehension. - -He shrugged his shoulders. 'Possibly,' he replied. 'I do not know.' - -Of course there was nothing for it but to murmur that I was at the -king's disposition; after which La Varenne retired, leaving me to put -the best face on the matter I could. Naturally I augured anything -but well of an interview weighted with such a condition; and this -contributed still further to depress my spirits, already lowered by the -long solitude in which I had passed the day. Fearing nothing, however, -so much as suspense, I hastened to do what I could to repair my costume, -and then descended to the foot of the stairs, where I found my custodian -awaiting me with a couple of servants, of whom one bore a link. - -We went out side by side, and having barely a hundred yards to go, -seemed in a moment to be passing through the gate of the Castle. I -noticed that the entrance was very strongly guarded, but an instant's -reflection served to remind me that this was not surprising after what -had happened at St. Cloud. I remarked to M. la Varenne as we crossed the -courtyard that I supposed Paris had surrendered; but he replied in the -negative so curtly, and with so little consideration, that I forebore to -ask any other questions; and the Chateau being small, we found ourselves -almost at once in a long, narrow corridor, which appeared to serve as -the antechamber. - -It was brilliantly lighted and crowded from end to end, and almost from -wall to wall, with a mob of courtiers; whose silence, no less than -their keen and anxious looks, took me by surprise. Here and there two or -three, who had seized upon the embrasure of a window, talked together in -a low tone; or a couple, who thought themselves sufficiently important -to pace the narrow passage between the waiting lines, conversed in -whispers as they walked. But even these were swift to take alarm, and -continually looked askance; while the general company stood at gaze, -starting and looking up eagerly whenever the door swung open or a -newcomer was announced. The strange silence which prevailed reminded me -of nothing so much as of the Court at Blois on the night of the Duke -of Mercoeur's desertion; but that stillness had brooded over empty -chambers, this gave a peculiar air of strangeness to a room thronged in -every part. - -M. la Varenne, who was received by those about the door with silent -politeness, drew me into the recess of a window; whence I was able -to remark, among other things, that the Huguenots present almost -outnumbered the king's immediate following. Still, among those who were -walking up and down, I noticed M. de Rambouillet, to whom at another -time I should have hastened to pay my respects; with Marshal d'Aumont, -Sancy, and Humieres. Nor had I more than noted the presence of these -before the door of the chamber opened and added to their number Marshal -Biron, who came out leaning on the arm of Crillon. The sight of these -old enemies in combination was sufficient of itself to apprise me that -some serious crisis was at hand; particularly as their progress through -the crowd was watched, I observed, by a hundred curious and attentive -eyes. - -They disappeared at last through the outer door, and the assemblage -turned as with one accord to see who came next. But nearly half an hour -elapsed before the Chamber door, which all watched so studiously, again -opened. This time it was to give passage to my late visitor, Turenne, -who came out smiling, and leaning, to my great surprise, on the arm of -M. de Rosny. - -As the two walked down the room, greeting here and there an obsequious -friend, and followed in their progress by all eyes, I felt my heart sink -indeed; both at sight of Turenne's good-humour, and of the company in -which I found him. Aware that in proportion as he was pleased I was like -to meet with displeasure, I still might have had hope left had I had -Rosny left. Losing him, however--and I could not doubt, seeing him as I -saw him, that I had lost him--and counting the King of Navarre as gone -already, I felt such a failure of courage as I had never known before. -I told myself with shame that I was not made for Courts, or for such -scenes as these; and recalling with new and keen mortification the poor -figure I had cut in the King of Navarre's antechamber at St. Jean, I -experienced so strange a gush of pity for my mistress that nothing could -exceed the tenderness I felt for her. I had won her under false colours, -I was not worthy of her. I felt that my mere presence in her company in -such a place as this, and among these people, must cover her with shame -and humiliation. - -To my great relief, since I knew my face was on fire, neither of the -two, as they walked down the passage, looked my way or seemed conscious -of my neighbourhood. At the door they stood a moment talking earnestly, -and it seemed as if M. de Rosny would have accompanied the Vicomte -farther. The latter would not suffer it, however, but took his leave -there; and this with so many polite gestures that my last hope based on -M. de Rosny vanished. - -Nevertheless, that gentleman was not so wholly changed that on his -turning to re-traverse the room I did not see a smile flicker for an -instant on his features as the two lines of bowing courtiers opened -before him. The next moment his look fell on me, and though his face -scarcely altered, he stopped opposite me. - -'M. de Marsac is waiting to see His Majesty?' he asked aloud, speaking -to M. la Varenne. - -My companion remaining silent, I bowed. - -'In five minutes,' M. de Rosny replied quietly, yet with a distant air, -which made me doubt whether I had not dreamed all I remembered of this -man. 'Ah! M. de Paul, what can I do for you?' he continued. And he bent -his head to listen to the application which a gentleman who stood next -me poured into his ear. 'I will see,' I heard him answer. 'In any case -you shall know to-morrow.' - -'But you will be my friend?' M. Paul urged, detaining him by the sleeve. - -'I will put only one before you,' he answered. - -My neighbour seemed to shrink into himself with disappointment. 'Who is -it?' he murmured piteously. - -'The king and his service, my friend,' M. de Rosny replied drily. And -with that he walked away. But half a dozen times at least; before he -reached the upper end of the room I saw the scene repeated. - -I looked on at all this in the utmost astonishment, unable to guess or -conceive what had happened to give M. de Rosny so much importance. For -it did not escape me that the few words he had stopped to speak to me -had invested me with interest in the eyes of all who stood near. -They gave me more room and a wider breathing-space, and looking at me -askance, muttered my name in whispers. In my uncertainty, however, what -this portended I drew no comfort from it; and before I had found time to -weigh it thoroughly the door through which Turenne and Rosny had entered -opened again. The pages and gentlemen who stood about it hastened to -range themselves on either side. An usher carrying a white wand came -rapidly down the room, here and there requesting the courtiers to stand -back where the passage was narrow. Then a loud voice without cried, 'The -King, gentlemen! the King!' and one in every two of us stood a-tiptoe to -see him enter. - -But there came in only Henry of Navarre, wearing a violet cloak and cap. - -I turned to La Varenne and with my head full of confusion, muttered -impatiently, 'But the king, man! Where is the king?' - -He grinned at me, with his hand before his mouth. 'Hush!' he whispered. -''Twas a jest we played on you! His late Majesty died at daybreak this -morning. This is the king.' - -'This! the King of Navarre?' I cried; so loudly that some round us -called 'Silence!' - -'No, the King of France, fool!' he replied. 'Your sword must be sharper -than your wits, or I have been told some lies!' - -I let the gibe pass and the jest, for my heart was beating so fast and -painfully that I could scarcely preserve my outward composure. There was -a mist before my eyes, and a darkness which set the lights at defiance. -It was in vain I tried to think what this might mean--to me. I could not -put two thoughts together, and while I still questioned what reception -I might expect, and who in this new state of things were my friends, the -king stopped before me. - -'Ha, M. de Marsac!' he cried cheerfully, signing to those who stood -before me to give place. 'You are the gentleman who rode so fast to warn -me the other morning. I have spoken to M. de Turenne about you, and he -is willing to overlook the complaint he had against you. For the rest, -go to my closet, my friend. Go! Rosny knows my will respecting you.' - -I had sense enough left to kneel and kiss his hand; but it was in -silence, which he knew how to interpret. He had moved on and was -speaking to another before I recovered the use of my tongue, or the wits -which his gracious words had scattered. When I did so, and got on my -feet again I found myself the centre of so much observation and the -object of so many congratulations that I was glad to act upon the hint -which La Varenne gave me, and hurry away to the closet. - -Here, though I had now an inkling of what I had to expect, I found -myself received with a kindness which bade fair to overwhelm me. Only M. -de Rosny was in the room, and he took me by both hands in a manner which -told me without a word that the Rosny of old days was back, and that; -for the embarrassment I had caused him of late I was more than forgiven. -When I tried to thank him for the good offices which I knew he had done -me with the king he would have none of it; reminding me with a smile -that he had eaten of my cheese when the choice lay between that and -Lisieux. - -'And besides, my friend,' he continued, his eyes twinkling, 'You have -made me richer by five hundred crowns.' - -'How so?' I asked, wondering more and more. - -'I wagered that sum with Turenne that he could not bribe you,' he -answered, smiling. 'And see,' he continued, selecting from some on the -table the same parchment I had seen before, 'here is the bribe. Take -it; it is yours. I have given a score to-day, but none with the same -pleasure. Let me be the first to congratulate the Lieutenant-Governor of -the Armagnac.' - -For a while I could not believe that he was in earnest; which pleased -him mightily, I remember. When I was brought at last to see that the -king had meant this for me from the first, and had merely lent the -patent to Turenne that the latter might make trial of me, my pleasure -and gratification were such that I could no more express them then than -I can now describe them. For they knew no bounds. I stood before Rosny -silent and confused, with long-forgotten tears welling up to my eyes, -and one regret only in my heart--that my dear mother had not lived to -see the fond illusions with which I had so often amused her turned to -sober fact. Not then, but afterwards, I remarked that the salary of my -office amounted to the exact sum which I had been in the habit of naming -to her; and I learned that Rosny had himself fixed it on information -given him by Mademoiselle de la Vire. - -As my transports grew more moderate, and I found voice to thank my -benefactor, he had still an answer. 'Do not deceive yourself, my -friend,' he said gravely, 'or think this an idle reward. My master -is King of France, but he is a king without a kingdom, and a captain -without money. To-day, to gain his rights, he has parted with half his -powers. Before he win all back there will be blows--blows, my friend. -And to that end I have bought your sword.' - -I told him that if no other left its scabbard for the king, mine should -be drawn. - -'I believe you,' he answered kindly, laying his hand on my shoulder. -'Not by reason of your words--Heaven knows I have heard vows enough -to-day!--but because I have proved you. And now,' he continued, speaking -in an altered tone and looking at me with a queer smile, 'now I suppose -you are perfectly satisfied? You have nothing more to wish for, my -friend?' - -I looked aside in a guilty fashion, not daring to prefer on the top of -all his kindness a further petition. Moreover, His Majesty might have -other views; or on this point Turenne might have proved obstinate. In -a word, there was nothing in what had happened, or on M. de Rosny's -communication, to inform me whether the wish of my heart was to be -gratified or not. - -But I should have known that great man better than to suppose that he -was one to promise without performing, or to wound a friend when he -could not salve the hurt. After enjoying my confusion for a time he -burst into a great shout of laughter, and taking me familiarly by the -shoulders, turned me towards the door. 'There, go!' he said. 'Go up the -passage. You will find a door on the right, and a door on the left. You -will know which to open.' - -Forbidding me to utter a syllable, he put me out. In the passage, where -I fain would have stood awhile to collect my thoughts, I was affrighted -by sounds which warned me that the king was returning that way. Fearing -to be surprised by him in such a state of perturbation, I hurried to the -end of the passage, where I discovered, as I had been told, two doors. - -They were both closed, and there was nothing about either of them to -direct my choice. But M. de Rosny was correct in supposing that I had -not forgotten the advice he had offered me on the day when he gave me -so fine a surprise in his own house--'When you want a good wife, M. -de Marsac, turn to the right!' I remembered the words, and without a -moment's hesitation--for the king and his suite were already entering -the passage--I knocked boldly, and scarcely waiting for an invitation, -went in. - -Fanchette was by the door, but stood aside with a grim smile, which I -was at liberty to accept as a welcome or not. Mademoiselle, who had been -seated on the farther side of the table, rose as I entered, and we stood -looking at one another. Doubtless she waited for me to speak first; -while I on my side was so greatly taken aback by the change wrought in -her by the Court dress she was wearing and the air of dignity with which -she wore it, that I stood gasping. I turned coward after all that had -passed between us. This was not the girl I had wooed in the greenwood -by St. Gaultier; nor the pale-faced woman I had lifted to the saddle -a score of times in the journey Paris-wards. The sense of unworthiness -which I had experienced a few minutes before in the crowded antechamber -returned in full force in presence of her grace and beauty, and once -more I stood tongue-tied before her, as I had stood in the lodgings at -Blois. All the later time, all that had passed between us was forgotten. - -She, for her part, looked at me wondering at my silence. Her face, which -had grown rosy red at my entrance, turned pale again. Her eyes grew -large with alarm; she began to beat her foot on the floor in a manner I -knew. 'Is anything the matter, sir?' she muttered at last. - -'On the contrary, mademoiselle,' I answered hoarsely, looking every way, -and grasping at the first thing I could think of, 'I am just from M. de -Rosny.' - -'And he?' - -'He has made me Lieutenant-Governor of the Armagnac.' - -She curtseyed to me in a wonderful fashion. 'It pleases me to -congratulate you, sir,' she said, in a voice between laughing and -crying. 'It is not more than equal to your deserts.' - -I tried to thank her becomingly, feeling at the same time more foolish -than I had ever felt in my life; for I knew that this was neither what I -had come to tell nor she to hear. Yet I could not muster up courage nor -find words to go farther, and stood by the table in a state of miserable -discomposure. - -'Is that all, sir?' she said at last, losing patience. - -Certainly it was now or never, and I knew it. I made the effort. 'No, -mademoiselle,' I said in a low voice. 'Far from it. But I do not see -here the lady to whom I came to address myself, and whom I have seen -a hundred times in far other garb than yours, wet and weary and -dishevelled, in danger and in flight. Her I have served and loved; and -for her I have lived. I have had no thought for months that has not been -hers, nor care save for her. I and all that I have by the king's bounty -are hers, and I came to lay them at her feet. But I do not see her -here.' - -'No, sir?' she answered in a whisper, with her face averted. - -'No, mademoiselle.' - -With a sudden brightness and quickness which set my heart beating she -turned, and looked at me. 'Indeed!' she said. 'I am sorry for that. It -is a pity your love should be given elsewhere, M. de Marsac--since it is -the king's will that you should marry me.' - -'Ah, mademoiselle!' I cried, kneeling before her--for she had come round -the table and stood beside me--'But you?' - -'It is my will too, sir,' she answered, smiling through her tears. - -* * * - -On the following day Mademoiselle de la Vire became my wife; the king's -retreat from Paris, which was rendered necessary by the desertion of -many who were ill-affected to the Huguenots, compelling the instant -performance of the marriage, if we would have it read by M. d'Amours. -This haste notwithstanding, I was enabled by the kindness of M. d'Agen -to make such an appearance, in respect both of servants and equipment, -as became rather my future prospects than my past distresses. It is -true that His Majesty, out of a desire to do nothing which might offend -Turenne, did not honour us with his presence; but Madame Catherine -attended on his behalf, and herself gave me my bride. M. de Sully and M. -Crillon, with the Marquis de Rambouillet and his nephew, and my distant -connection, the Duke de Rohan, who first acknowledged me on that day, -were among those who earned my gratitude by attending me upon the -occasion. - -The marriage of M. Francois d'Agen with the widow of my old rival and -opponent did not take place until something more than a year later, a -delay which was less displeasing to me than to the bridegroom, inasmuch -as it left madame at liberty to bear my wife company during my absence -on the campaign of Arques and Ivry. In the latter battle, which added -vastly to the renown of M. de Rosny, who captured the enemy's standard -with his own hand, I had the misfortune to be wounded in the second -of the two charges led by the king; and being attacked by two foot -soldiers, as I lay entangled I must inevitably have perished but for the -aid afforded me by Simon Fleix, who flew to the rescue with the courage -of a veteran. His action was observed by the king, who begged him -from me, and attaching him to his own person in the capacity of clerk, -started him so fairly on the road to fortune that he has since risen -beyond hope or expectation. - -The means by which Henry won for a time the support of Turenne (and -incidentally procured his consent to my marriage) are now too notorious -to require explanation. Nevertheless, it was not until the Vicomte's -union a year later with Mademoiselle de la Marck, who brought him the -Duchy of Bouillon, that I thoroughly understood the matter; or the -kindness peculiar to the king, my master, which impelled that great -monarch, in the arrangement of affairs so vast, to remember the -interests of the least of his servants. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Gentleman of France, by Stanley Weyman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A GENTLEMAN OF FRANCE *** - -***** This file should be named 1939.txt or 1939.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/1939/ - -Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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