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diff --git a/2389-h/2389-h.htm b/2389-h/2389-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d41cce7 --- /dev/null +++ b/2389-h/2389-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10820 @@ +<?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> + Bardelys the Magnificent, by Rafael Sabatini + </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 Bardelys the Magnificent, by Rafael Sabatini + +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: Bardelys the Magnificent + +Author: Rafael Sabatini + +Release Date: March 5, 2009 [EBook #2389] +Last Updated: March 10, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARDELYS THE MAGNIFICENT *** + + + + +Produced by Polly Stratton, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + BARDELYS THE MAGNIFICENT + </h1> + <blockquote> + <p> + Being an Account of the Strange Wooing pursued by the Sieur Marcel de + Saint-Pol; Marquis of Bardelys, and of the things that in the course of + it befell him in Languedoc, in the year of the Rebellion + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Rafael Sabatini + </h2> + <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>BARDELYS THE MAGNIFICENT</b> </a> + <br /><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> THE + WAGER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> THE + KING'S WISHES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> RENE + DE LESPERON <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> A + MAID IN THE MOONLIGHT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. + </a> THE VICOMTE DE LAVEDAN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> + CHAPTER VI. </a> IN CONVALESCENCE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> THE HOSTILITY OF + SAINT-EUSTACHE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> THE + PORTRAIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> A + NIGHT ALARM <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> THE + RISEN DEAD <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> THE + KING'S COMMISSIONER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. + </a> THE TRIBUNAL OF TOULOUSE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> THE ELEVENTH HOUR + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> EAVESDROPPING + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> MONSIEUR + DE CHATELLERAULT IS ANGRY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER + XVI. </a> SWORDS! <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER + XVII. </a> THE BABBLING OF GANYMEDE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> SAINT-EUSTACHE + IS OBSTINATE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> THE + FLINT AND THE STEEL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> THE + “BRAVI” AT BLAGNAC <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> LOUIS + THE JUST <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> WE + UNSADDLE <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> + BARDELYS THE MAGNIFICENT + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. THE WAGER + </h2> + <p> + “Speak of the Devil,” whispered La Fosse in my ear, and, moved by the + words and by the significance of his glance, I turned in my chair. + </p> + <p> + 1The door had opened, and under the lintel stood the thick-set figure of + the Comte de Chatellerault. Before him a lacquey in my escutcheoned livery + of red-and-gold was receiving, with back obsequiously bent, his hat and + cloak. + </p> + <p> + A sudden hush fell upon the assembly where a moment ago this very man had + been the subject of our talk, and silenced were the wits that but an + instant since had been making free with his name and turning the Languedoc + courtship—from which he was newly returned with the shame of defeat—into + a subject for heartless mockery and jest. Surprise was in the air for we + had heard that Chatellerault was crushed by his ill-fortune in the lists + of Cupid, and we had not looked to see him joining so soon a board at + which—or so at least I boasted—mirth presided. + </p> + <p> + And so for a little space the Count stood pausing on my threshold, whilst + we craned our necks to contemplate him as though he had been an object for + inquisitive inspection. Then a smothered laugh from the brainless La Fosse + seemed to break the spell. I frowned. It was a climax of discourtesy whose + impression I must at all costs efface. + </p> + <p> + I leapt to my feet, with a suddenness that sent my chair gliding a full + half-yard along the glimmering parquet of the floor, and in two strides I + had reached the Count and put forth my hand to bid him welcome. He took it + with a leisureliness that argued sorrow. He advanced into the full blaze + of the candlelight, and fetched a dismal sigh from the depths of his + portly bulk. + </p> + <p> + “You are surprised to see me, Monsieur le Marquis,” said he, and his tone + seemed to convey an apology for his coming—for his very existence + almost. + </p> + <p> + Now Nature had made my Lord of Chatellerault as proud and arrogant as + Lucifer—some resemblance to which illustrious personage his + downtrodden retainers were said to detect in the lineaments of his swarthy + face. Environment had added to that store of insolence wherewith Nature + had equipped him, and the King's favour—in which he was my rival—had + gone yet further to mould the peacock attributes of his vain soul. So that + this wondrous humble tone of his gave me pause; for to me it seemed that + not even a courtship gone awry could account for it in such a man. + </p> + <p> + “I had not thought to find so many here,” said he. And his next words + contained the cause of his dejected air. “The King, Monsieur de Bardelys, + has refused to see me; and when the sun is gone, we lesser bodies of the + courtly firmament must needs turn for light and comfort to the moon.” And + he made me a sweeping bow. + </p> + <p> + “Meaning that I rule the night?” quoth I, and laughed. “The figure is more + playful than exact, for whilst the moon is cold and cheerless, me you + shall find ever warm and cordial. I could have wished, Monsieur de + Chatellerault, that your gracing my board were due to a circumstance less + untoward than His Majesty's displeasure.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not for nothing that they call you the Magnificent,” he answered, + with a fresh bow, insensible to the sting in the tail of my honeyed words. + </p> + <p> + I laughed, and, setting compliments to rest with that, I led him to the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Ganymede, a place here for Monsieur le Comte. Gilles, Antoine, see to + Monsieur de Chatellerault. Basile, wine for Monsieur le Comte. Bestir + there!” + </p> + <p> + In a moment he was become the centre of a very turmoil of attention. My + lacqueys flitted about him buzzing and insistent as bees about a rose. + Would Monsieur taste of this capon a la casserole, or of this truffled + peacock? Would a slice of this juicy ham a l'anglaise tempt Monsieur le + Comte, or would he give himself the pain of trying this turkey aux olives? + Here was a salad whose secret Monsieur le Marquis's cook had learnt in + Italy, and here a vol-au-vent that was invented by Quelon himself. + </p> + <p> + Basile urged his wines upon him, accompanied by a page who bore a silver + tray laden with beakers and Wagons. Would Monsieur le Comte take white + Armagnac or red Anjou? This was a Burgundy of which Monsieur le Marquis + thought highly, and this a delicate Lombardy wine that His Majesty had oft + commended. Or perhaps Monsieur de Chatellerault would prefer to taste the + last vintage of Bardelys? + </p> + <p> + And so they plagued him and bewildered him until his choice was made; and + even then a couple of them held themselves in readiness behind his chair + to forestall his slightest want. Indeed, had he been the very King + himself, no greater honour could we have shown him at the Hotel de + Bardelys. + </p> + <p> + But the restraint that his coming had brought with it hung still upon the + company, for Chatellerault was little loved, and his presence there was + much as that of the skull at an Egyptian banquet. + </p> + <p> + For of all these fair-weather friends that sat about my table—amongst + whom there were few that had not felt his power—I feared there might + be scarcely one would have the grace to dissemble his contempt of the + fallen favourite. That he was fallen, as much his words as what already we + had known, had told us. + </p> + <p> + Yet in my house I would strive that he should have no foretaste of that + coldness that to-morrow all Paris would be showing him, and to this end I + played the host with all the graciousness that role may bear, and + overwhelmed him with my cordiality, whilst to thaw all iciness from the + bearing of my other guests, I set the wines to flow more freely still. My + dignity would permit no less of me, else would it have seemed that I + rejoiced in a rival's downfall and took satisfaction from the circumstance + that his disfavour with the King was like to result in my own further + exaltation. + </p> + <p> + My efforts were not wasted. Slowly the mellowing influence of the grape + pronounced itself. To this influence I added that of such wit as Heaven + has graced me with, and by a word here and another there I set myself to + lash their mood back into the joviality out of which his coming had for + the moment driven it. + </p> + <p> + And so, presently, Good-Humour spread her mantle over us anew, and quip + and jest and laughter decked our speech, until the noise of our + merry-making drifting out through the open windows must have been borne + upon the breeze of that August night down the rue Saint-Dominique, across + the rue de l'Enfer, to the very ears perhaps of those within the + Luxembourg, telling them that Bardelys and his friends kept another of + those revels which were become a byword in Paris, and had contributed not + a little to the sobriquet of “Magnificent” which men gave me. + </p> + <p> + But, later, as the toasts grew wild and were pledged less for the sake of + the toasted than for that of the wine itself, wits grew more barbed and + less restrained by caution; recklessness hung a moment, like a bird of + prey, above us, then swooped abruptly down in the words of that fool La + Fosse. + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs,” he lisped, with that fatuousness he affected, and with his + eye fixed coldly upon Chatellerault, “I have a toast for you.” He rose + carefully to his feet—he had arrived at that condition in which to + move with care is of the first importance. He shifted his eye from the + Count to his glass, which stood half empty. He signed to a lacquey to fill + it. “To the brim, gentlemen,” he commanded. Then, in the silence that + ensued, he attempted to stand with one foot on the ground and one on his + chair; but encountering difficulties of balance, he remained upright—safer + if less picturesque. + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs, I give you the most peerless, the most beautiful, the most + difficult and cold lady in all France. I drink to those her thousand + graces, of which Fame has told us, and to that greatest and most vexing + charm of all—her cold indifference to man. I pledge you, too, the + swain whose good fortune it maybe to play Endymion to this Diana. + </p> + <p> + “It will need,” pursued La Fosse, who dealt much in mythology and classic + lore—“it will need an Adonis in beauty, a Mars in valour, an Apollo + in song, and a very Eros in love to accomplish it. And I fear me,” he + hiccoughed, “that it will go unaccomplished, since the one man in all + France on whom we have based our hopes has failed. Gentlemen, to your + feet! I give you the matchless Roxalanne de Lavedan!” + </p> + <p> + Such amusement as I felt was tempered by apprehension. I shot a swift + glance at Chatellerault to mark how he took this pleasantry and this + pledging of the lady whom the King had sent him to woo, but whom he had + failed to win. He had risen with the others at La Fosse's bidding, either + unsuspicious or else deeming suspicion too flimsy a thing by which to + steer conduct. Yet at the mention of her name a scowl darkened his + ponderous countenance. He set down his glass with such sudden force that + its slender stem was snapped and a red stream of wine streaked the white + tablecloth and spread around a silver flowerbowl. The sight of that stain + recalled him to himself and to the manners he had allowed himself for a + moment to forget. + </p> + <p> + “Bardelys, a thousand apologies for my clumsiness,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Spilt wine,” I laughed, “is a good omen.” + </p> + <p> + And for once I accepted that belief, since but for the shedding of that + wine and its sudden effect upon him, it is likely we had witnessed a + shedding of blood. Thus, was the ill-timed pleasantry of my + feather-brained La Fosse tided over in comparative safety. But the topic + being raised was not so easily abandoned. Mademoiselle de Lavedan grew to + be openly discussed, and even the Count's courtship of her came to be + hinted at, at first vaguely, then pointedly, with a lack of delicacy for + which I can but blame the wine with which these gentlemen had made a salad + of their senses. In growing alarm I watched the Count. But he showed no + further sign of irritation. He sat and listened as though no jot + concerned. There were moments when he even smiled at some lively sally, + and at last he went so far as to join in that merry combat of wits, and + defend himself from their attacks, which were made with a good-humour that + but thinly veiled the dislike he was held in and the satisfaction that was + culled from his late discomfiture. + </p> + <p> + For a while I hung back and took no share in the banter that was toward. + But in the end—lured perhaps by the spirit in which I have shown + that Chatellerault accepted it, and lulled by the wine which in common + with my guests I may have abused—I came to utter words but for which + this story never had been written. + </p> + <p> + “Chatellerault,” I laughed, “abandon these defensive subterfuges; confess + that you are but uttering excuses, and acknowledge that you have conducted + this affair with a clumsiness unpardonable in one equipped with your + advantages of courtly rearing.” + </p> + <p> + A flush overspread his face, the first sign of anger since he had spilled + his wine. + </p> + <p> + “Your successes, Bardelys, render you vain, and of vanity is presumption + born,” he replied contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “See!” I cried, appealing to the company. “Observe how he seeks to evade + replying! Nay, but you shall confess your clumsiness.” + </p> + <p> + “A clumsiness,” murmured La Fosse drowsily, “as signal as that which + attended Pan's wooing of the Queen of Lydia.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no clumsiness to confess,” he answered hotly, raising his voice. + “It is a fine thing to sit here in Paris, among the languid, dull, and + nerveless beauties of the Court, whose favours are easily won because they + look on dalliance as the best pastime offered them, and are eager for such + opportunities of it as you fleering coxcombs will afford them. But this + Mademoiselle de Lavedan is of a vastly different mettle. She is a woman; + not a doll. She is flesh and blood; not sawdust, powder, and vermilion. + She has a heart and a will; not a spirit corrupted by vanity and licence.” + </p> + <p> + La Fosse burst into a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Hark! O, hark!” he cried, “to the apostle of the chaste!” + </p> + <p> + “Saint Gris!” exclaimed another. “This good Chatellerault has lost both + heart and head to her.” + </p> + <p> + Chatellerault glanced at the speaker with an eye in which anger + smouldered. + </p> + <p> + “You have said it,” I agreed. “He has fallen her victim, and so his vanity + translates her into a compound of perfections. Does such a woman as you + have described exist, Comte? Bah! In a lover's mind, perhaps, or in the + pages of some crack-brained poet's fancies; but nowhere else in this dull + world of ours.” + </p> + <p> + He made a gesture of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “You have been clumsy, Chatellerault,” I insisted. + </p> + <p> + “You have lacked address. The woman does not live that is not to be won by + any man who sets his mind to do it, if only he be of her station and have + the means to maintain her in it or raise her to a better. A woman's love, + sir, is a tree whose root is vanity. Your attentions flatter her, and + predispose her to capitulate. Then, if you but wisely choose your time to + deliver the attack, and do so with the necessary adroitness—nor is + overmuch demanded—the battle is won with ease, and she surrenders. + Believe me, Chatellerault, I am a younger man than you by full five years, + yet in experience I am a generation older, and I talk of what I know.” + </p> + <p> + He sneered heavily. “If to have begun your career of dalliance at the age + of eighteen with an amour that resulted in a scandal be your title to + experience, I agree,” said he. “But for the rest, Bardelys, for all your + fine talk of conquering women, believe me when I tell you that in all your + life you have never met a woman, for I deny the claim of these Court + creatures to that title. If you would know a woman, go to Lavedan, + Monsieur le Marquis. If you would have your army of amorous wiles suffer a + defeat at last, go employ it against the citadel of Roxalanne de Lavedan's + heart. If you would be humbled in your pride, betake yourself to Lavedan.” + </p> + <p> + “A challenge!” roared a dozen voices. “A challenge, Bardelys!” + </p> + <p> + “Mais voyons,” I deprecated, with a laugh, “would you have me journey into + Languedoc and play at wooing this embodiment of all the marvels of + womanhood for the sake of making good my argument? Of your charity, + gentlemen, insist no further.” + </p> + <p> + “The never-failing excuse of the boaster,” sneered Chatellerault, “when + desired to make good his boast.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur conceives that I have made a boast?” quoth I, keeping my temper. + </p> + <p> + “Your words suggested one—else I do not know the meaning of words. + They suggested that where I have failed you could succeed, if you had a + mind to try. I have challenged you, Bardelys. I challenge you again. Go + about this wooing as you will; dazzle the lady with your wealth and your + magnificence, with your servants, your horses, your equipages; and all the + splendours you can command; yet I make bold to say that not a year of your + scented attentions and most insidious wiles will bear you fruit. Are you + sufficiently challenged?” + </p> + <p> + “But this is rank frenzy!” I protested. “Why should I undertake this + thing?” + </p> + <p> + “To prove me wrong,” he taunted me. “To prove me clumsy. Come, Bardelys, + what of your spirit?” + </p> + <p> + “I confess I would do much to afford you the proof you ask. But to take a + wife! Pardi! That is much indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” he sneered. “You do well to draw back You are wise to avoid + discomfiture. This lady is not for you. When she is won, it will be by + some bold and gallant gentleman, and by no mincing squire of dames, no + courtly coxcomb, no fop of the Luxembourg, be his experiences of dalliance + never so vast.” + </p> + <p> + “Po' Cap de Dieu!” growled Cazalet, who was a Gascon captain in the + Guards, and who swore strange, southern oaths. “Up, Bardelys! Afoot! Prove + your boldness and your gallantry, or be forever shamed; a squire of dames, + a courtly coxcomb, a fop of the Luxembourg! Mordemondieu! I have given a + man a bellyful of steel for the half of those titles!” + </p> + <p> + I heeded him little, and as little the other noisy babblers, who now on + their feet—those that could stand—were spurring me excitedly + to accept the challenge, until from being one of the baiters it seemed + that of a sudden the tables were turned and I was become the baited. I sat + in thought, revolving the business in my mind, and frankly liking it but + little. Doubts of the issue, were I to undertake it, I had none. + </p> + <p> + My views of the other sex were neither more nor less than my words to the + Count had been calculated to convey. It may be—I know now that it + was that the women I had known fitted Chatellerault's description, and + were not over-difficult to win. Hence, such successes as I had had with + them in such comedies of love as I had been engaged upon had given me a + false impression. But such at least was not my opinion that night. I was + satisfied that Chatellerault talked wildly, and that no such woman lived + as he depicted. Cynical and soured you may account me. Such I know I was + accounted in Paris; a man satiated with all that wealth and youth and the + King's favour could give him; stripped of illusions, of faith and of zest, + the very magnificence—so envied—of my existence affording me + more disgust than satisfaction. Since already I had gauged its shallows. + </p> + <p> + Is it strange, therefore, that in this challenge flung at me with such + insistence, a business that at first I disliked grew presently to beckon + me with its novelty and its promise of new sensations? + </p> + <p> + “Is your spirit dead, Monsieur de Bardelys?” Chatellerault was gibing, + when my silence had endured some moments. “Is the cock that lately crowed + so lustily now dumb? Look you, Monsieur le Marquis, you are accounted here + a reckless gamester. Will a wager induce you to this undertaking?” + </p> + <p> + I leapt to my feet at that. His derision cut me like a whip. If what I did + was the act of a braggart, yet it almost seems I could do no less to + bolster up my former boasting—or what into boasting they had + translated. + </p> + <p> + “You'll lay a wager, will you, Chatellerault?” I cried, giving him back + defiance for defiance. A breathless silence fell. “Then have it so. + Listen, gentlemen, that you may be witnesses. I do here pledge my castle + of Bardelys, and my estates in Picardy, with every stick and stone and + blade of grass that stands upon them, that I shall woo and win Roxalanne + de Lavedan to be the Marquise of Bardelys. Does the stake satisfy you, + Monsieur le Comte? You may set all you have against it,” I added coarsely, + “and yet, I swear, the odds will be heavily in your favour.” + </p> + <p> + I remember it was Mironsac who first found his tongue, and sought even at + that late hour to set restraint upon us and to bring judgment to our aid. + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs, messieurs!” he besought us. “In Heaven's name, bethink you + what you do. Bardelys, your wager is a madness. Monsieur de Chatellerault, + you'll not accept it. You'll—” + </p> + <p> + “Be silent,” I rebuked him, with some asperity. “What has Monsieur de + Chatellerault to say?” + </p> + <p> + He was staring at the tablecloth and the stain of the wine that he had + spilled when first Mademoiselle de Lavedan's name was mentioned. His head + had been bent so that his long black hair had tumbled forward and partly + veiled his face. At my question he suddenly looked up. The ghost of a + smile hung on his sensuous lips, for all that excitement had paled his + countenance beyond its habit. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Marquis.” said he rising, “I take your wager, and I pledge my + lands in Normandy against yours of Bardelys. Should you lose, they will no + longer call you the Magnificent; should I lose—I shall be a beggar. + It is a momentous wager, Bardelys, and spells ruin for one of us.” + </p> + <p> + “A madness!” groaned Mironsac. + </p> + <p> + “Mordieux!” swore Cazalet. Whilst La Fosse, who had been the original + cause of all this trouble, vented his excitement in a gibber of imbecile + laughter. + </p> + <p> + “How long do you give me, Chatellerault?” I asked, as quietly as I might. + </p> + <p> + “What time shall you require?” + </p> + <p> + “I should prefer that you name the limit,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + He pondered a moment. Then “Will three months suffice you?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “If it is not done in three months, I will pay,” said I. + </p> + <p> + And then Chatellerault did what after all was, I suppose, the only thing + that a gentleman might do under the circumstances. He rose to his feet, + and, bidding the company charge their glasses, he gave them a parting + toast. + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs, drink with me to Monsieur le Marquis de Bardelys's safe + journey into Languedoc, and to the prospering of his undertaking.” + </p> + <p> + In answer, a great shout went up from throats that suspense had lately + held in leash. Men leapt on to their chairs, and, holding their glasses on + high, they acclaimed me as thunderously as though I had been the hero of + some noble exploit, instead of the main figure in a somewhat questionable + wager. + </p> + <p> + “Bardelys!” was the shout with which the house reechoed. “Bardelys! + Bardelys the Magnificent! Vive Bardelys!” + </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'S WISHES + </h2> + <p> + It was daybreak ere the last of them had left me, for a dozen or so had + lingered to play lansquenet after the others had departed. With those that + remained my wager had soon faded into insignificance, as their minds + became engrossed in the fluctuations of their own fortunes. + </p> + <p> + I did not play myself; I was not in the mood, and for one night, at least, + of sufficient weight already I thought the game upon which I was launched. + </p> + <p> + I was out on the balcony as the first lines of dawn were scoring the east, + and in a moody, thoughtful condition I had riveted my eyes upon the palace + of the Luxembourg, which loomed a black pile against the lightening sky, + when Mironsac came out to join me. A gentle, lovable lad was Mironsac, not + twenty years of age, and with the face and manners of a woman. That he was + attached to me I knew. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Marquis,” said he softly, “I am desolated at this wager into + which they have forced you.” + </p> + <p> + “Forced me?” I echoed. “No, no; they did not force me. And yet,” I + reflected, with a sigh, “perhaps they did.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking, monsieur, that if the King were to hear of it the + evil might be mended.” + </p> + <p> + “But the King must not hear of it, Armand,” I answered quickly. “Even if + he did, matters would be no better—much worse, possibly.” + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur, this thing done in the heat of wine—” + </p> + <p> + “Is none the less done, Armand,” I concluded. “And I for one do not wish + it undone.” + </p> + <p> + “But have you no thought for the lady?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + I laughed at him. “Were I still eighteen, boy, the thought might trouble + me. Had I my illusions, I might imagine that my wife must be some woman of + whom I should be enamoured. As it is, I have grown to the age of + twenty-eight unwed. Marriage becomes desirable. I must think of an heir to + all the wealth of Bardelys. And so I go to Languedoc. If the lady be but + half the saint that fool Chatellerault has painted her, so much the better + for my children; if not, so much the worse. There is the dawn, Mironsac, + and it is time we were abed. Let us drive these plaguy gamesters home.” + </p> + <p> + When the last of them had staggered down my steps, and I had bidden a + drowsy lacquey extinguish the candles, I called Ganymede to light me to + bed and aid me to undress. His true name was Rodenard; but my friend La + Fosse, of mythological fancy, had named him Ganymede, after the cup-bearer + of the gods, and the name had clung to him. He was a man of some forty + years of age, born into my father's service, and since become my + intendant, factotum, majordomo, and generalissimo of my regiment of + servants and my establishments both in Paris and at Bardelys. + </p> + <p> + We had been to the wars together ere I had cut my wisdom teeth, and thus + had he come to love me. There was nothing this invaluable servant could + not do. At baiting or shoeing a horse, at healing a wound, at roasting a + capon, or at mending a doublet, he was alike a master, besides possessing + a score of other accomplishments that do not now occur to me, which in his + campaigning he had acquired. Of late the easy life in Paris had made him + incline to corpulency, and his face was of a pale, unhealthy fullness. + </p> + <p> + To-night, as he assisted me to undress, it wore an expression of supreme + woe. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur is going into Languedoc?” he inquired sorrowfully. He always + called me his “seigneur,” as did the other of my servants born at + Bardelys. + </p> + <p> + “Knave, you have been listening,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “But, monseigneur,” he explained, “when Monsieur le Comte de Chatellerault + laid his wager—” + </p> + <p> + “And have I not told you, Ganymede, that when you chance to be among my + friends you should hear nothing but the words addressed to you, see + nothing but the glasses that need replenishing? But, there! We are going + into Languedoc. What of it?” + </p> + <p> + “They say that war may break out at any moment,” he groaned; “that + Monsieur le Duc de Montmorency is receiving reenforcements from Spain, and + that he intends to uphold the standard of Monsieur and the rights of the + province against the encroachments of His Eminence the Cardinal.” + </p> + <p> + “So! We are becoming politicians, eh, Ganymede? And how shall all this + concern us? Had you listened more attentively, you had learnt that we go + to Languedoc to seek a wife, and not to concern ourselves with Cardinals + and Dukes. Now let me sleep ere the sun rises.” + </p> + <p> + On the morrow I attended the levee, and I applied to His Majesty for leave + to absent myself. But upon hearing that it was into Languedoc I went, he + frowned inquiry. Trouble enough was his brother already making in that + province. I explained that I went to seek a wife, and deeming all + subterfuge dangerous, since it might only serve to provoke him when later + he came to learn the lady's name, I told him—withholding yet all + mention of the wager—that I fostered the hope of making Mademoiselle + de Lavedan my marquise. + </p> + <p> + Deeper came the line between his brows at that, and blacker grew the + scowl. He was not wont to bestow on me such looks as I now met in his + weary eyes, for Louis XIII had much affection for me. + </p> + <p> + “You know this lady?” he demanded sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Only by name, Your Majesty.” + </p> + <p> + At that his brows went up in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Only by name? And you would wed her? But, Marcel, my friend, you are a + rich man one of the richest in France. You cannot be a fortune hunter.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” I answered, “Fame sings loudly the praises of this lady, her + beauty and her virtue—praises that lead me to opine she would make + me an excellent chatelaine. I am come to an age when it is well to wed; + indeed, Your Majesty has often told me so. And it seems to me that all + France does not hold a lady more desirable. Heaven send she will agree to + my suit!” + </p> + <p> + In that tired way of his that was so pathetic: “Do you love me a little, + Marcel?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” I exclaimed, wondering whither all this was leading us, “need I + protest it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered dryly; “you can prove it. Prove it by abandoning this + Languedoc quest. I have motives—sound motives, motives of political + import. I desire another wedding for Mademoiselle de Lavedan. I wish it + so, Bardelys, and I look to be obeyed.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment temptation had me by the throat. Here was an unlooked-for + chance to shake from me a business which reflection was already rendering + odious. I had but to call together my friends of yesternight, and with + them the Comte de Chatellerault, and inform them that by the King was I + forbidden to go awooing Roxalanne de Lavedan. So should my wager be + dissolved. And then in a flash I saw how they would sneer one and all, and + how they would think that I had caught avidly at this opportunity of + freeing myself from an undertaking into which a boastful mood had lured + me. The fear of that swept aside my momentary hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” I answered, bending my head contritely, “I am desolated that my + inclinations should run counter to your wishes, but to your wonted + kindness and clemency I must look for forgiveness if these same + inclinations drive me so relentlessly that I may not now turn back.” + </p> + <p> + He caught me viciously by the arm and looked sharply into my face. + </p> + <p> + “You defy me, Bardelys?” he asked, in a voice of anger. + </p> + <p> + “God forbid, Sire!” I answered quickly. “I do but pursue my destiny.” + </p> + <p> + He took a turn in silence, like a man who is mastering himself before he + will speak. Many an eye, I knew, was upon us, and not a few may have been + marvelling whether already Bardelys were about to share the fate that + yesterday had overtaken his rival Chatellerault. At last he halted at my + side again. + </p> + <p> + “Marcel,” said he, but though he used that name his voice was harsh, “go + home and ponder what I have said. If you value my favour, if you desire my + love, you will abandon this journey and the suit you contemplate. If, on + the other hand, you persist in going—you need not return. The Court + of France has no room for gentlemen who are but lip-servers, no place for + courtiers who disobey their King.” + </p> + <p> + That was his last word. He waited for no reply, but swung round on his + heel, and an instant later I beheld him deep in conversation with the Duke + of Saint-Simon. Of such a quality is the love of princes—vain, + capricious, and wilful. Indulge it ever and at any cost, else you forfeit + it. + </p> + <p> + I turned away with a sigh, for in spite of all his weaknesses and + meannesses I loved this cardinal-ridden king, and would have died for him + had the need occurred, as well he knew. But in this matter—well, I + accounted my honour involved, and there was now no turning back save by + the payment of my wager and the acknowledgment of defeat. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. RENE DE LESPERON + </h2> + <p> + That very day I set out. For since the King was opposed to the affair, and + knowing the drastic measures by which he was wont to enforce what he + desired, I realized that did I linger he might find a way definitely to + prevent my going. + </p> + <p> + I travelled in a coach, attended by two lacqueys and a score of + men-at-arms in my own livery, all commanded by Ganymede. My intendant + himself came in another coach with my wardrobe and travelling necessaries. + We were a fine and almost regal cortege as we passed down the rue de + l'Enfer and quitted Paris by the Orleans gate, taking the road south. So + fine a cortege, indeed, that it entered my mind. His Majesty would come to + hear of it, and, knowing my destination, send after me to bring me back. + To evade such a possibility, I ordered a divergence to be made, and we + struck east and into Touraine. At Pont-le-Duc, near Tours, I had a cousin + in the Vicomte d'Amaral, and at his chateau I arrived on the third day + after quitting Paris. + </p> + <p> + Since that was the last place where they would seek me, if to seek me they + were inclined, I elected to remain my cousin's guest for fifteen days. And + whilst I was there we had news of trouble in the South and of a rising in + Languedoc under the Duc de Montmorency. Thus was it that when I came to + take my leave of Amaral, he, knowing that Languedoc was my destination, + sought ardently to keep me with him until we should learn that peace and + order were restored in the province. But I held the trouble lightly, and + insisted upon going. + </p> + <p> + Resolutely, then, if by slow stages, we pursued our journey, and came at + last to Montauban. There we lay a night at the Auberge de Navarre, + intending to push on to Lavedan upon the morrow. My father had been on + more than friendly terms with the Vicomte de Lavedan, and upon this I + built my hopes of a cordial welcome and an invitation to delay for a few + days the journey to Toulouse, upon which I should represent myself as + bound. + </p> + <p> + Thus, then, stood my plans. And they remained unaltered for all that upon + the morrow there were wild rumours in the air of Montauban. There were + tellings of a battle fought the day before at Castelnaudary, of the defeat + of Monsieur's partisans, of the utter rout of Gonzalo de Cordova's Spanish + tatterdemalions, and of the capture of Montmorency, who was sorely wounded—some + said with twenty and some with thirty wounds—and little like to + live. Sorrow and discontent stalked abroad in Languedoc that day, for they + believed that it was against the Cardinal, who sought to strip them of so + many privileges, that Gaston d'Orleans had set up his standard. + </p> + <p> + That those rumours of battle and defeat were true we had ample proof some + few hours later, when a company of dragoons in buff and steel rode into + the courtyard of the Auberge de Navarre, headed by a young spark of an + officer, who confirmed the rumour and set the number of Montmorency's + wounds at seventeen. He was lying, the officer told us, at Castelnaudary, + and his duchess was hastening to him from Beziers. Poor woman! She was + destined to nurse him back to life and vigour only that he might take his + trial at Toulouse and pay with his head the price of his rebellion. + </p> + <p> + Ganymede who, through the luxurious habits of his more recent years had—for + all his fine swagger—developed a marked distaste for warfare and + excitement, besought me to take thought for my safety and to lie quietly + at Montauban until the province should be more settled. + </p> + <p> + “The place is a hotbed of rebellion,” he urged. “If these Chouans but + learn that we are from Paris and of the King's party, we shall have our + throats slit, as I live. There is not a peasant in all this countryside + indeed, scarce a man of any sort but is a red-hot Orleanist, + anti-Cardinalist, and friend of the Devil. Bethink you, monseigneur, to + push on at the present is to court murder.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, we will court murder,” said I coldly. “Give the word to + saddle.” + </p> + <p> + I asked him at the moment of setting out did he know the road to Lavedan, + to which the lying poltroon made answer that he did. In his youth he may + have known it, and the countryside may have undergone since then such + changes as bewildered him. Or it may be that fear dulled his wits, and + lured him into taking what may have seemed the safer rather than the + likelier road. But this I know, that as night was falling my carriage + halted with a lurch, and as I put forth my head I was confronted by my + trembling intendant, his great fat face gleaming whitely in the gloom + above the lawn collar on his doublet. + </p> + <p> + “Why do we halt, Ganymede?” quoth I. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he faltered, his trembling increasing as he spoke, and his + eyes meeting mine in a look of pitiful contrition, “I fear we are lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Lost?” I echoed. “Of what do you talk? Am I to sleep in the coach?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, monseigneur, I have done my best—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, God keep us from your worst,” I snapped. “Open me this door.” + </p> + <p> + I stepped down and looked about me, and, by my faith, a more desolate spot + to lose us in my henchman could not have contrived had he been at pains to + do so. A bleak, barren landscape—such as I could hardly have + credited was to be found in all that fair province—unfolded itself, + looking now more bleak, perhaps, by virtue of the dim evening mist that + hovered over it. Yonder, to the right, a dull russet patch of sky marked + the west, and then in front of us I made out the hazy outline of the + Pyrenees. At sight of them, I swung round and gripped my henchman by the + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “A fine trusty servant thou!” I cried. “Boaster! Had you told us that age + and fat living had so stunted your wits as to have extinguished memory, I + had taken a guide at Montauban to show us the way. Yet, here, with the sun + and the Pyrenees to guide you, even had you no other knowledge, you lose + yourself!” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he whimpered, “I was choosing my way by the sun and the + mountains, and it was thus that I came to this impasse. For you may see, + yourself, that the road ends here abruptly.” + </p> + <p> + “Ganymede,” said I slowly, “when we return to Paris—if you do not + die of fright 'twixt this and then—I'll find a place for you in the + kitchens. God send you may make a better scullion than a follower!” Then, + vaulting over the wall, “Attend me, some half-dozen of you,” I commanded, + and stepped out briskly towards the barn. + </p> + <p> + As the weather-beaten old door creaked upon its rusty hinges, we were + greeted by a groan from within, and with it the soft rustle of straw that + is being moved. Surprised, I halted, and waited whilst one of my men + kindled a light in the lanthorn that he carried. + </p> + <p> + By its rays we beheld a pitiable sight in a corner of that building. A + man, quite young and of a tall and vigorous frame, lay stretched upon the + straw. He was fully dressed even to his great riding-boots, and from the + loose manner in which his back-and-breast hung now upon him, it would seem + as if he had been making shift to divest himself of his armour, but had + lacked the strength to complete the task. Beside him lay a feathered + headpiece and a sword attached to a richly broidered baldrick. All about + him the straw was clotted with brown, viscous patches of blood. The + doublet which had been of sky-blue velvet was all sodden and stained, and + inspection showed us that he had been wounded in the right side, between + the straps of his breastplate. + </p> + <p> + As we stood about him now, a silent, pitying group, appearing fantastic, + perhaps, by the dim light of that single lanthorn, he attempted to raise + his head, and then with a groan he dropped it back upon the straw that + pillowed it. From out of a face white, as in death, and drawn with haggard + lines of pain, a pair of great lustrous blue eyes were turned upon us, + abject and pitiful as the gaze of a dumb beast that is stricken mortally. + </p> + <p> + It needed no acuteness to apprehend that we had before us one of + yesterday's defeated warriors; one who had spent his last strength in + creeping hither to get his dying done in peace. Lest our presence should + add fear to the agony already upon him, I knelt beside him in the + blood-smeared straw, and, raising his head, I pillowed it upon my arm. + </p> + <p> + “Have no fear,” said I reassuringly. “We are friends. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + The faint smile that played for a second on his lips and lighted his + countenance would have told me that he understood, even had I not caught + his words, faint as a sigh “Merci, monsieur.” He nestled his head into the + crook of my arm. “Water—for the love of God!” he gasped, to add in a + groan, “Je me meurs, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Assisted by a couple of knaves, Ganymede went about attending to the rebel + at once. Handling him as carefully as might be, to avoid giving him + unnecessary pain they removed his back-and-breast, which was flung with a + clatter into one of the corners of the barn. Then, whilst one of them + gently drew off his boots, Rodenard, with the lanthorn close beside him, + cut away the fellow's doublet, and laid bare the oozing sword-wound that + gaped in his mangled side. He whispered an order to Gilles, who went + swiftly off to the coach in quest of something that he had asked for; then + he sat on his heels and waited, his hand upon the man's pulse, his eyes on + his face. + </p> + <p> + I stooped until my lips were on a level with my intendant's ear. + </p> + <p> + “How is it with him?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Dying,” whispered Rodenard in answer. “He has lost too much blood, and he + is probably bleeding inwardly as well. There is no hope of his life, but + he may linger thus some little while, sinking gradually, and we can at + least mitigate the suffering of his last moments.” + </p> + <p> + When presently the men returned with the things that Ganymede had asked + for, he mixed some pungent liquid with water, and, whilst a servant held + the bowl, he carefully sponged the rebel's wound. This and a cordial that + he had given him to drink seemed to revive him and to afford him ease. His + breathing was no longer marked by any rasping sound, and his eyes seemed + to burn more intelligently. + </p> + <p> + “I am dying—is it not so?” he asked, and Ganymede bowed his head in + silence. The poor fellow sighed. “Raise me,” he begged, and when this + service had been done him, his eyes wandered round until they found me. + Then “Monsieur,” he said, “will you do me a last favour?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly, my poor friend,” I answered, going down on my knees beside + him. + </p> + <p> + “You—you were not for the Duke?” he inquired, eyeing me more keenly. + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur. But do not let that disturb you; I have no interest in this + rising and I have taken no side. I am from Paris, on a journey of—of + pleasure. My name is Bardelys—Marcel de Bardelys.” + </p> + <p> + “Bardelys the Magnificent?” he questioned, and I could not repress a + smile. + </p> + <p> + “I am that overrated man.” + </p> + <p> + “But then you are for the King!” And a note of disappointment crept into + his voice. Before I could make him any answer, he had resumed. “No matter; + Marcel de Bardelys is a gentleman, and party signifies little when a man + is dying. I am Rene de Lesperon, of Lesperon in Gascony,” he pursued. + “Will you send word to my sister afterwards?” + </p> + <p> + I bowed my head without speaking. + </p> + <p> + “She is the only relative I have, monsieur. But”—and his tone grew + wistful—“there is one other to whom I would have you bear a + message.” He raised his hand by a painful effort to the level of his + breast. Strength failed him, and he sank back. “I cannot, monsieur,” he + said in a tone of pathetic apology. “See; there is a chain about my neck + with a locket. Take it from me. Take it now, monsieur. There are some + papers also, monsieur. Take all. I want to see them safely in your + keeping.” + </p> + <p> + I did his bidding, and from the breast of his doublet I drew some loose + letters and a locket which held the miniature of a woman's face. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to deliver all to her, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall be done,” I answered, deeply moved. + </p> + <p> + “Hold it—hold it up,” he begged, his voice weakening. “Let me behold + the face.” + </p> + <p> + Long his eyes rested on the likeness I held before him. At last, as one in + a dream— + </p> + <p> + “Well-beloved,” he sighed. “Bien aimee!” And down his grey, haggard cheeks + the tears came slowly. “Forgive this weakness, monsieur,” he whispered + brokenly. “We were to have been wed in a month, had I lived.” He ended + with a sob, and when next he spoke it was more labouredly, as though that + sob had robbed him of the half of what vitality remained. “Tell her, + monsieur, that my dying thoughts were of her. Tell—tell her—I—” + </p> + <p> + “Her name?” I cried, fearing he would sink before I learned it. “Tell me + her name.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me with eyes that were growing glassy and vacant. Then he + seemed to brace himself and to rally for a second. + </p> + <p> + “Her name?” he mused, in a far-off manner. “She is—Ma-de-moiselle de + ———” + </p> + <p> + His head rolled on the suddenly relaxed neck. He collapsed into Rodenard's + arms. + </p> + <p> + “Is he dead?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + Rodenard nodded in silence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. A MAID IN THE MOONLIGHT + </h2> + <p> + I do not know whether it was the influence of that thing lying in a corner + of the barn under the cloak that Rodenard had flung over it, or whether + other influences of destiny were at work to impel me to rise at the end of + a half-hour and announce my determination to set out on horseback and find + myself quarters more congenial. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow,” I instructed Ganymede, as I stood ready to mount, “you will + retrace your steps with the others, and, finding the road to Lavedan, you + will follow me to the chateau.” + </p> + <p> + “But you cannot hope to reach it to-night, monseigneur, through a country + that is unknown to you,” he protested. + </p> + <p> + “I do not hope to reach it to-night. I will ride south until I come upon + some hamlet that will afford me shelter and, in the morning, direction.” + </p> + <p> + I left him with that, and set out at a brisk trot. Night had now fallen, + but the sky was clear, and a crescent moon came opportunely if feebly to + dispel the gloom. + </p> + <p> + I quitted the field, and went back until I gained a crossroad, where, + turning to the right, I set my face to the Pyrenees, and rode briskly + amain. That I had chosen wisely was proved when some twenty minutes later. + I clattered into the hamlet of Mirepoix, and drew up before an inn + flaunting the sign of a peacock—as if in irony of its humbleness, + for it was no better than a wayside tavern. Neither stable-boy nor ostler + was here, and the unclean, overgrown urchin to whom I entrusted my horse + could not say whether indeed Pere Abdon the landlord would be able to find + me a room to sleep in. I thirsted, however; and so I determined to alight, + if it were only to drink a can of wine and obtain information of my + whereabouts. + </p> + <p> + As I was entering the hostelry there was a clatter of hoofs in the street, + and four dragoons headed by a sergeant rode up and halted at the door of + the Paon. They seemed to have ridden hard and some distance, for their + horses were jaded almost to the last point of endurance. + </p> + <p> + Within, I called the host, and having obtained a flagon of the best + vintage—Heaven fortify those that must be content with his worst!—I + passed on to make inquiries touching my whereabouts and the way to + Lavedan. This I learnt was but some three or four miles distant. About the + other table—there were but two within the room—stood the + dragoons in a whispered consultation, of which it had been well had I + taken heed, for it concerned me more closely than I could have dreamt. + </p> + <p> + “He answers the description,” said the sergeant, and though I heard the + words I took no thought that it was of me they spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Padrieu,” swore one of his companions, “I'll wager it is our man.” + </p> + <p> + And then, just as I was noticing that Master Abdon, who had also overheard + the conversation, was eyeing me curiously, the sergeant stepped up to me, + and— + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, monsieur?” quoth he. + </p> + <p> + I vouchsafed him a stare of surprise before asking in my turn “How may + that concern you?” + </p> + <p> + “Your pardon, my master, but we are on the King's business.” + </p> + <p> + I remembered then that he had said I answered some description. With that + it flashed through my mind that they had been sent after me by His Majesty + to enforce my obedience to his wishes and to hinder me from reaching + Lavedan. At once came the dominant desire to conceal my identity that I + might go unhindered. The first name that occurred to me was that of the + poor wretch I had left in the barn half an hour ago, and so— + </p> + <p> + “I am,” said I, “Monsieur de Lesperon, at your service.” + </p> + <p> + Too late I saw the mistake that I had made. I own it was a blunder that no + man of ordinary intelligence should have permitted himself to have + committed. Remembering the unrest of the province, I should rather have + concluded that their business was more like to be in that connection. + </p> + <p> + “He is bold, at least,” cried one of the troopers, with a burst of + laughter. Then came the sergeant's voice, cold and formal, “In the King's + name, Monsieur de Lesperon, I arrest you.” + </p> + <p> + He had whipped out his sword, and the point was within an inch of my + breast. But his arm, I observed, was stretched to its fullest extent, + which forbade his making a sudden thrust. To hamper him in the lunge there + was the table between us. + </p> + <p> + So, my mind working quickly in this desperate situation, and realizing how + dire and urgent the need to attempt an escape, I leapt suddenly back to + find myself in the arms of his followers. But in moving I had caught up by + one of its legs the stool on which I had been sitting. As I raised it, I + eluded the pinioning grip of the troopers. I twisted in their grasp, and + brought the stool down upon the head of one of them with a force that + drove him to his knees. Up went that three-legged stool again, to descend + like a thunderbolt upon the head of another. That freed me. The sergeant + was coming up behind, but another flourish of my improvised battle-axe + sent the two remaining soldiers apart to look to their swords. Ere they + could draw, I had darted like a hare between them and out into the street. + The sergeant, cursing them with horrid volubility, followed closely upon + my heels. + </p> + <p> + Leaping as far into the roadway as I could, I turned to meet the fellow's + onslaught. Using the stool as a buckler, I caught his thrust upon it. So + violently was it delivered that the point buried itself in the wood and + the blade snapped, leaving him a hilt and a stump of steel. I wasted no + time in thought. Charging him wildly, I knocked him over just as the two + unhurt dragoons came stumbling out of the tavern. + </p> + <p> + I gained my horse and vaulted into the saddle. Tearing the reins from the + urchin that held them, and driving my spurs into the beast's flanks, I + went careering down the street at a gallop, gripping tightly with my + knees, whilst the stirrups, which I had had no time to step into, flew + wildly about my legs. + </p> + <p> + A pistol cracked behind me; then another, and a sharp, stinging pain in + the shoulder warned me that I was hit. But I took no heed of it then. The + wound could not be serious, else I had already been out of the saddle, and + it would be time enough to look to it when I had outdistanced my pursuers. + I say my pursuers, for already there were hoofbeats behind me, and I knew + that those gentlemen had taken to their horses. But, as you may recall, I + had on their arrival noted the jaded condition of their cattle, whilst I + bestrode a horse that was comparatively fresh, so that pursuit had but + small terrors for me. Nevertheless, they held out longer, and gave me more + to do than I had imagined would be the case. For nigh upon a half-hour I + rode, before I could be said to have got clear of them, and then for aught + I knew they were still following, resolved to hound me down by the aid of + such information as they might cull upon their way. + </p> + <p> + I was come by then to the Garonne. I drew rein beside the swiftly flowing + stream, winding itself like a flood of glittering silver between the black + shadows of its banks. A little while I sat there listening, and surveying + the stately, turreted chateau that loomed, a grey, noble pile, beyond the + water. I speculated what demesne this might be, and I realized that it was + probably Lavedan. + </p> + <p> + I pondered what I had best do, and in the end I took the resolve to swim + the river and knock at the gates. If it were indeed Lavedan, I had but to + announce myself, and to one of my name surely its hospitalities would be + spread. If it were some other household, even then the name of Marcel de + Bardelys should suffice to ensure me a welcome. + </p> + <p> + By spurring and coaxing, I lured my steed into the river. There is a + proverb having it that though you may lead a horse to the water you cannot + make him drink. It would have now applied to my case, for although I had + brought mine to the water I could not make him swim; or, at least, I could + not make him breast the rush of the stream. Vainly did I urge him and try + to hold him; he plunged frantically, snorted, coughed, and struggled + gamely, but the current was bearing us swiftly away, and his efforts + brought us no nearer to the opposite shore. At last I slipped from his + back, and set myself to swim beside him, leading him by the bridle. But + even thus he proved unequal to the task of resisting the current, so that + in the end I let him go, and swam ashore alone, hoping that he would land + farther down, and that I might then recapture him. When, however, I had + reached the opposite bank, and stood under the shadow of the chateau, I + discovered that the cowardly beast had turned back, and, having scrambled + out, was now trotting away along the path by which we had come. Having no + mind to go after him, I resigned myself to the loss, and turned my + attention to the mansion now before me. + </p> + <p> + Some two hundred yards from the river it raised its great square bulk + against the background of black, star-flecked sky. From the facade before + me down to the spot where I stood by the water, came a flight of half a + dozen terraces, each balustraded in white marble, ending in square, + flat-topped pillars of Florentine design. What moon there was revealed the + quaint architecture of that stately edifice and glittered upon the + mullioned windows. But within nothing stirred; no yellow glimmer came to + clash with the white purity of the moonlight; no sound of man or beast + broke the stillness of the night, for all that the hour was early. The air + of the place was as that of some gigantic sepulchre. A little daunted by + this all-enveloping stillness, I skirted the terraces and approached the + house on the eastern side. Here I found an old-world drawbridge—now + naturally in disuse—spanning a ditch fed from the main river for the + erstwhile purposes of a moat. I crossed the bridge, and entered an + imposing courtyard. Within this quadrangle the same silence dwelt, and + there was the same obscurity in the windows that overlooked it. I paused, + at a loss how to proceed, and I leaned against a buttress of the + portcullis, what time I considered. + </p> + <p> + I was weak from fasting, worn with hard riding, and faint from the wound + in my shoulder, which had been the cause at least of my losing some blood. + In addition to all this, I was shivering with the cold of my wet garments, + and generally I must have looked as little like that Bardelys they called + the Magnificent as you might well conceive. How, then, if I were to knock, + should I prevail in persuading these people—whoever they might be—of + my identity? Infinitely more had I the air of some fugitive rebel, and it + was more than probable that I should be kept in durance to be handed over + to my friends the dragoons, if later they came to ride that way. I was + separated from those who knew me, and as things now stood—unless + this were, indeed, Lavedan—it might be days before they found me + again. + </p> + <p> + I was beginning to deplore my folly at having cut myself adrift from my + followers in the first place, and having embroiled myself with the + soldiers in the second; I was beginning to contemplate the wisdom of + seeking some outhouse of this mansion wherein to lie until morning, when + of a sudden a broad shaft of light, coming from one of the windows on the + first floor, fell athwart the courtyard. Instinctively I crouched back + into the shadow of my friendly buttress, and looked up. + </p> + <p> + That sudden shaft of light resulted from the withdrawal of the curtains + that masked a window. At this window, which opened outward on to a + balcony; I now beheld—and to me it was as the vision of Beatrice may + have been to Dante—the white figure of a woman. The moonlight bathed + her, as in her white robe she leaned upon the parapet gazing upward into + the empyrean. A sweet, delicate face I saw, not endowed, perhaps, with + that exquisite balance and proportion of feature wherein they tell us + beauty lies, but blessed with a wondrously dainty beauty all its own; a + beauty, perhaps, as much of expression as of form; for in that gentle + countenance was mirrored every tender grace of girlhood, all that is fresh + and pure and virginal. + </p> + <p> + I held my breath, I think, as I stood in ravished contemplation of that + white vision. If this were Lavedan, and that the cold Roxalanne who had + sent my bold Chatellerault back to Paris empty-handed then were my task a + very welcome one. + </p> + <p> + How little it had weighed with me that I was come to Languedoc to woo a + woman bearing the name of Roxalanne de Lavedan I have already shown. But + here in this same Languedoc I beheld to-night a woman whom it seemed I + might have loved, for not in ten years—not, indeed, in all my life—had + any face so wrought upon me and called to my nature with so strong a + voice. + </p> + <p> + I gazed at that child, and I thought of the women that I had known—the + bold, bedizened beauties of a Court said to be the first in Europe. And + then it came to me that this was no demoiselle of Lavedan, no demoiselle + at all in fact, for the noblesse of France owned no such faces. Candour + and purity were not to be looked for in the high-bred countenances of our + great families; they were sometimes found in the faces of the children of + their retainers. Yes; I had it now. This child was the daughter of some + custodian of the demesne before me. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, as she stood there in the moonlight, a song, sung at half-voice, + floated down on the calm air. It was a ditty of old Provence, a melody I + knew and loved, and if aught had been wanting to heighten the enchantment + that already ravished me, that soft melodious voice had done it. Singing + still, she turned and reentered the room, leaving wide the windows, so + that faintly, as from a distance, her voice still reached me after she was + gone from sight. + </p> + <p> + It was in that hour that it came to me to cast myself upon this fair + creature's mercy. Surely one so sweet and saintly to behold would take + compassion on an unfortunate! Haply my wound and all the rest that I had + that night endured made me dull-witted and warped my reason. + </p> + <p> + With what strength I still possessed I went to work to scale her balcony. + The task was easy even for one in my spent condition. The wall was thick + with ivy, and, moreover, a window beneath afforded some support, for by + standing on the heavy coping I could with my fingers touch the sill of the + balcony above. Thus I hoisted myself, and presently I threw an arm over + the parapet. Already I was astride of that same Parapet before she became + aware of my presence. + </p> + <p> + The song died suddenly on her lips, and her eyes, blue as forget-me-nots, + were wide now with the fear that the sight of me occasioned. Another + second and there had been an outcry that would have brought the house + about our ears, when, stepping to the threshold of the room, + “Mademoiselle,” I entreated, “for the love of God, be silent! I mean you + no harm. I am a fugitive. I am pursued.” + </p> + <p> + This was no considered speech. There had been no preparing of words; I had + uttered them mechanically almost—perhaps by inspiration, for they + were surely the best calculated to enlist this lady's sympathy. And so far + as went the words themselves, they were rigorously true. + </p> + <p> + With eyes wide open still, she confronted me, and I now observed that she + was not so tall as from below I had imagined. She was, in fact, of a short + stature rather, but of proportions so exquisite that she conveyed an + impression of some height. In her hand she held a taper by whose light she + had been surveying herself in her mirror at the moment of my advent. Her + unbound hair of brown fell like a mantle about her shoulders, and this + fact it was drew me to notice that she was in her night-rail, and that + this room to which I had penetrated was her chamber. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” she asked breathlessly, as though in such a pass my + identity were a thing that signified. + </p> + <p> + I had almost answered her, as I had answered the troopers at Mirepoix, + that I was Lesperon. Then, bethinking me that there was no need for such + equivocation here, I was on the point of giving her my name. But noting my + hesitation, and misconstruing it, she forestalled me. + </p> + <p> + “I understand, monsieur,” said she more composedly. “And you need have no + fear. You are among friends.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes had travelled over my sodden clothes, the haggard pallor of my + face, and the blood that stained my doublet from the shoulder downward. + From all this she had drawn her conclusions that I was a hunted rebel. She + drew me into the room, and, closing the window, she dragged the heavy + curtain across it, thereby giving me a proof of confidence that smote me + hard—impostor that I was. + </p> + <p> + “I crave your pardon, mademoiselle, for having startled you by the rude + manner of my coming,” said I, and never in my life had I felt less at ease + than then. “But I was exhausted and desperate. I am wounded, I have ridden + hard, and I swam the river.” + </p> + <p> + The latter piece of information was vastly unnecessary, seeing that the + water from my clothes was forming a pool about my feet. “I saw you from + below; mademoiselle, and surely, I thought, so sweet a lady would have + pity on an unfortunate.” She observed that my eyes were upon her, and in + an act of instinctive maidenliness she bore her hand to her throat to draw + the draperies together and screen the beauties of her neck from my + unwarranted glance, as though her daily gown did not reveal as much and + more of them. + </p> + <p> + That act, however, served to arouse me to a sense of my position. What did + I there? It was a profanity—a defiling, I swore; from which you'll + see, that Bardelys was grown of a sudden very nice. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she was saying, “you are exhausted.” + </p> + <p> + “But that I rode hard,” I laughed, “it is likely they had taken me to + Toulouse, were I might have lost my head before my friends could have + found and claimed me. I hope you'll see it is too comely a head to be so + lightly parted with.” + </p> + <p> + “For that,” said she, half seriously, half whimsically, “the ugliest head + would be too comely.” + </p> + <p> + I laughed softly, amusedly; then of a sudden, without warning, a faintness + took me, and I was forced to brace myself against the wall, breathing + heavily the while. At that she gave a little cry of alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I beseech you to be seated. I will summon my father, and we + will find a bed for you. You must not retain those clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “Angel of goodness!” I muttered gratefully, and being still half dazed, I + brought some of my Court tricks into that chamber by taking her hand and + carrying it towards my lips. But ere I had imprinted the intended kiss + upon her fingers—and by some miracle they were not withdrawn—my + eyes encountered hers again. I paused as one may pause who contemplates a + sacrilege. For a moment she held my glance with hers; then I fell abashed, + and released her hand. + </p> + <p> + The innocence peeping out of that child's eyes it was that had in that + moment daunted me, and made me tremble to think of being found there, and + of the vile thing it would be to have her name coupled with mine. That + thought lent me strength. I cast my weariness from me as though it were a + garment, and, straightening myself, I stepped of a sudden to the window. + Without a word, I made shift to draw back the curtain when her hand, + falling on my sodden sleeve, arrested me. + </p> + <p> + “What will you do, monsieur?” she cried in alarm. “You may be seen.” + </p> + <p> + My mind was now possessed by the thing I should have thought of before. I + climbed to her balcony, and my one resolve was to get me thence as quickly + as might be. + </p> + <p> + “I had not the right to enter here,” I muttered. “I—” I stopped + short; to explain would only be to sully, and so, “Good-night! Adieu!” I + ended brusquely. + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur—” she began. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go,” I commanded almost roughly, as I shook my arm free of her + grasp. + </p> + <p> + “Bethink you that you are exhausted. If you go forth now, monsieur, you + will assuredly be taken. You must not go.” + </p> + <p> + I laughed softly, and with some bitterness, too, for I was angry with + myself. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, child,” I said. “Better so, if it is to be.” + </p> + <p> + And with that I drew aside the curtains and pushed the leaves of the + window apart. She remained standing in the room, watching me, her face + pale, and hex eyes pained and puzzled. + </p> + <p> + One last glance I gave her as I bestrode the rail of her balcony. Then I + lowered myself as I had ascended. I was hanging by my hands, seeking with + my foot for the coping of the window beneath me, when, suddenly, there + came a buzzing in my ears. I had a fleeting vision of a white figure + leaning on the balcony above me; then a veil seemed drawn over my eyes; + there came a sense of falling; a rush as of a tempestuous wind; then—nothing. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. THE VICOMTE DE LAVEDAN + </h2> + <p> + When next I awakened, it was to find myself abed in an elegant apartment, + spacious and sunlit, that was utterly strange to me. For some seconds I + was content to lie and take no count of my whereabouts. My eyes travelled + idly over the handsome furnishings of that choicely appointed chamber, and + rested at last upon the lean, crooked figure of a man whose back was + towards me and who was busy with some phials at a table not far distant. + Then recollection awakened also in me, and I set my wits to work to + grapple with my surroundings. I looked through the open window, but from + my position on the bed no more was visible than the blue sky and a faint + haze of distant hills. + </p> + <p> + I taxed my memory, and the events of yesternight recurred to me. I + remembered the girl, the balcony, and my flight ending in my giddiness and + my fall. Had they brought me into that same chateau, or—Or what? No + other possibility came to suggest itself, and, seeing scant need to tax my + brains with speculation, since there was one there of whom I might ask the + question— + </p> + <p> + “Hola, my master!” I called to him, and as I did so I essayed to move. The + act wrung a sharp cry of pain from me. My left shoulder was numb and sore, + but in my right foot that sudden movement had roused a sharper pang. + </p> + <p> + At my cry that little wizened old man swung suddenly round. He had the + face of a bird of prey, yellow as a louis d'or with a great hooked nose, + and a pair of beady black eyes that observed me solemnly. The mouth alone + was the redeeming feature in a countenance that had otherwise been evil; + it was instinct with good-humour. But I had small leisure to observe him + then, for simultaneously with his turning there had been another movement + at my bedside, which drew my eyes elsewhere. A gentleman, richly dressed, + and of an imposing height, approached me. + </p> + <p> + “You are awake, monsieur?” he said in a half interrogative tone. + </p> + <p> + “Will you do me the favour to tell me where I am, monsieur?” quoth I. + </p> + <p> + “You do not know? You are at Lavedan. I am the Vicomte de Lavedan—at + your service.” + </p> + <p> + Although it was no more than I might have expected, yet a dull wonder + filled me, to which presently I gave expression by asking stupidly— + </p> + <p> + “At Lavedan? But how came I hither?” + </p> + <p> + “How you came is more than I can tell,” he laughed. “But I'll swear the + King's dragoons were not far behind you. We found you in the courtyard + last night; in a swoon of exhaustion, wounded in the shoulder, and with a + sprained foot. It was my daughter who gave the alarm and called us to your + assistance. You were lying under her widow.” Then, seeing the growing + wonder in my eyes and misconstruing it into alarm: “Nay, have no fear, + monsieur,” he cried. “You were very well advised in coming to us. You have + fallen among friends. We are Orleanists too,—at Lavedan, for all + that I was not in the fight at Castelnaudary. That was no fault of mine. + His Grace's messenger reached me overlate, and for all that I set out with + a company of my men, I put back when I had reached Lautrec upon hearing + that already a decisive battle had been fought and that our side had + suffered a crushing defeat.” He uttered a weary sigh. + </p> + <p> + “God help us, monsieur! Monseigneur de Richelieu is likely to have his way + with us. But let that be for the present. You are here, and you are safe. + As yet no suspicion rests on Lavedan. I was, as I have said, too late for + the fight, and so I came quietly back to save my skin, that I might serve + the Cause in whatever other way might offer still. In sheltering you I am + serving Gaston d'Orleans, and, that I may continue so to do, I pray that + suspicion may continue to ignore me. If they were to learn of it at + Toulouse or of how with money and in other ways I have helped this + rebellion—I make no doubt that my head would be the forfeit I should + be asked to pay.” + </p> + <p> + I was aghast at the freedom of treasonable speech with which this very + debonnaire gentleman ventured to address an utter stranger. + </p> + <p> + “But tell me, Monsieur de Lesperon,” resumed my host, “how is it with + you?” + </p> + <p> + I started in fresh astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “How—how do you know that I am Lesperon?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Ma foi!” he laughed, “do you imagine I had spoken so unreservedly to a + man of whom I knew nothing? Think better of me, monsieur, I beseech you. I + found these letters in your pocket last night, and their superscription + gave me your identity. Your name is well known to me,” he added. “My + friend Monsieur de Marsac has often spoken of you and of your devotion to + the Cause, and it affords me no little satisfaction to be of some service + to one whom by repute I have already learned to esteem.” + </p> + <p> + I lay back on my pillows, and I groaned. Here was a predicament! Mistaking + me for that miserable rebel I had succoured at Mirepoix, and whose letters + I bore upon me that I might restore them to some one whose name he had + failed to give me at the last moment, the Vicomte de Lavedan had poured + the damning story of his treason into my ears. + </p> + <p> + What if I were now to enlighten him? What if I were to tell him that I was + not Lesperon—no rebel at all, in fact—but Marcel de Bardelys, + the King's favourite? That he would account me a spy I hardly thought; but + assuredly he would see that my life must be a danger to his own; he must + fear betrayal from me; and to protect himself he would be justified in + taking extreme measures. Rebels were not addicted to an excess of niceness + in their methods, and it was more likely that I should rise no more from + the luxurious bed on which his hospitality had laid me. But even if I had + exaggerated matters, and the Vicomte were not quite so bloodthirsty as was + usual with his order, even if he chose to accept my promise that I would + forget what he had said, he must nevertheless—in view of his + indiscretion—demand my instant withdrawal from Lavedan. And what, + then, of my wager with Chatellerault? + </p> + <p> + Then, in thinking of my wager, I came to think of Roxalanne herself—that + dainty, sweet-faced child into whose chamber I had penetrated on the + previous night. And would you believe it that I—the satiated, + cynical, unbelieving Bardelys—experienced dismay at the very thought + of leaving Lavedan for no other reason than because it involved seeing no + more of that provincial damsel? + </p> + <p> + My unwillingness to be driven from her presence determined me to stay. I + had come to Lavedan as Lesperon, a fugitive rebel. In that character I had + all but announced myself last night to Mademoiselle. In that character I + had been welcomed by her father. In that character, then, I must remain, + that I might be near her, that I might woo and win her, and thus—though + this, I swear, had now become a minor consideration with me—make + good my boast and win the wager that must otherwise involve my ruin. + </p> + <p> + As I lay back with closed eyes and gave myself over to pondering the + situation, I took a pleasure oddly sweet in the prospect of urging my suit + under such circumstances. Chatellerault had given me a free hand. I was to + go about the wooing of Mademoiselle de Lavedan as I chose. But he had cast + it at me in defiance that not with all my magnificence, not with all my + retinue and all my state to dazzle her, should I succeed in melting the + coldest heart in France. + </p> + <p> + And now, behold! I had cast from me all these outward embellishments; I + came without pomp, denuded of every emblem of wealth, of every sign of + power; as a poor fugitive gentleman, I came, hunted, proscribed, and + penniless—for Lesperon's estate would assuredly suffer + sequestration. To win her thus would, by my faith, be an exploit I might + take pride in, a worthy achievement to encompass. + </p> + <p> + And so I left things as they were, and since I offered no denial to the + identity that was thrust upon me, as Lesperon I continued to be known to + the Vicomte and to his family. + </p> + <p> + Presently he called the old man to my bedside and I heard them talking of + my condition. + </p> + <p> + “You think, then, Anatole,” he said in the end, “that in three or four + days Monsieur de Lesperon may be able to rise?” + </p> + <p> + “I am assured of it,” replied the old servant. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon, turning to me, “Be therefore of good courage, monsieur,” said + Lavedan, “for your hurt is none so grievous after all.” + </p> + <p> + I was muttering my thanks and my assurances that I was in excellent + spirits, when we were suddenly disturbed by a rumbling noise as of distant + thunder. + </p> + <p> + “Mort Dieu!” swore the Vicomte, a look of alarm coming into his face. With + a bent head, he stood in a listening attitude. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Horsemen—on the drawbridge,” he answered shortly. “A troop, by the + sound.” + </p> + <p> + And then, in confirmation of these words, followed a stamping and rattle + of hoofs on the flags of the courtyard below. The old servant stood + wringing his hands in helpless terror, and wailing, “Monsieur, monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + But the Vicomte crossed rapidly to the window and looked out. Then he + laughed with intense relief; and in a wondering voice “They are not + troopers,” he announced. “They have more the air of a company of servants + in private livery; and there is a carriage—pardieu, two carriages!” + </p> + <p> + At once the memory of Rodenard and my followers occurred to me, and I + thanked Heaven that I was abed where he might not see me, and that thus he + would probably be sent forth empty-handed with the news that his master + was neither arrived nor expected. + </p> + <p> + But in that surmise I went too fast. Ganymede was of a tenacious mettle, + and of this he now afforded proof. Upon learning that naught was known of + the Marquis de Bardelys at Lavedan, my faithful henchman announced his + intention to remain there and await me, since that was, he assured the + Vicomte, my destination. + </p> + <p> + “My first impulse,” said Lavedan, when later he came to tell me of it, + “was incontinently to order his departure. But upon considering the matter + and remembering how high in power and in the King's favour stands that + monstrous libertine Bardelys, I deemed it wiser to afford shelter to this + outrageous retinue. His steward—a flabby, insolent creature—says + that Bardelys left them last night near Mirepoix, to ride hither, bidding + them follow to-day. Curious that we should have no news of him! That he + should have fallen into the Garonne and drowned himself were too great a + good fortune to be hoped for.” + </p> + <p> + The bitterness with which he spoke of me afforded me ample cause for + congratulation that I had resolved to accept the role of Lesperon. Yet, + remembering that my father and he had been good friends, his manner left + me nonplussed. What cause could he have for this animosity to the son? + Could it be merely my position at Court that made me seem in his rebel + eyes a natural enemy? + </p> + <p> + “You are acquainted with this Bardelys?” I inquired, by way of drawing + him. + </p> + <p> + “I knew his father,” he answered gruffly. “An honest, upright gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “And the son,” I inquired timidly, “has he none of these virtues?” + </p> + <p> + “I know not what virtues he may have; his vices are known to all the + world. He is a libertine, a gambler, a rake, a spendthrift. They say he is + one of the King's favourites, and that his monstrous extravagances have + earned for him the title of 'Magnificent'.” He uttered a short laugh. “A + fit servant for such a master as Louis the Just!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Vicomte,” said I, warming in my own defence, “I swear you do + him injustice. He is extravagant, but then he is rich; he is a libertine, + but then he is young, and he has been reared among libertines; he is a + gamester, but punctiliously honourable at play. Believe me, monsieur, I + have some acquaintance with Marcel de Bardelys, and his vices are hardly + so black as is generally believed; whilst in his favour I think the same + may be said that you have just said of his father—he is an honest, + upright gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “And that disgraceful affair with the Duchesse de Bourgogne?” inquired + Lavedan, with the air of a man setting an unanswerable question. + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu!” I cried, “will the world never forget that indiscretion? An + indiscretion of youth, no doubt much exaggerated outside Court circles.” + </p> + <p> + The Vicomte eyed me in some astonishment for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Lesperon,” he said at length, “you appear to hold this + Bardelys in high esteem. He has a staunch supporter in you and a stout + advocate. Yet me you cannot convince.” And he shook his head solemnly. + “Even if I did not hold him to be such a man as I have pronounced him, but + were to account him a paragon of all the virtues, his coming hither + remains an act that I must resent.” + </p> + <p> + “But why, Monsieur le Vicomte?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I know the errand that brings him to Lavedan. He comes to woo my + daughter.” + </p> + <p> + Had he flung a bomb into my bed he could not more effectively have + startled me. + </p> + <p> + “It astonishes you, eh?” he laughed bitterly. “But I can assure you that + it is so. A month ago I was visited by the Comte de Chatellerault—another + of His Majesty's fine favourites. He came unbidden; offered no reason for + his coming, save that he was making a tour of the province for his + amusement. His acquaintance with me was of the slightest, and I had no + desire that it should increase; yet here he installed himself with a + couple of servants, and bade fair to take a long stay. + </p> + <p> + “I was surprised, but on the morrow I had an explanation. A courier, + arriving from an old friend of mine at Court, bore me a letter with the + information that Monsieur de Chatellerault was come to Lavedan at the + King's instigation to sue for my daughter's hand in marriage. The reasons + were not far to seek. The King, who loves him, would enrich him; the + easiest way is by a wealthy alliance, and Roxalanne is accounted an + heiress. In addition to that, my own power in the province is known, + whilst my defection from the Cardinalist party is feared. What better link + wherewith to attach me again to the fortunes of the Crown—for Crown + and Mitre have grown to be synonymous in this topsy-turvy France—than + to wed my daughter to one of the King's favourites? + </p> + <p> + “But for that timely warning, God knows what mischief had been wrought. As + it was, Monsieur de Chatellerault had but seen my daughter upon two + occasions. On the very day that I received the tidings I speak of, I sent + her to Auch to the care of some relatives of her mother's. Chatellerault + remained a week. Then, growing restive, he asked when my daughter would + return. 'When you depart, monsieur,' I answered him, and, being pressed + for reasons, I dealt so frankly with him that within twenty-four hours he + was on his way back to Paris.” + </p> + <p> + The Vicomte paused and took a turn in the apartment, whilst I pondered his + words, which were bringing me a curious revelation. Presently he resumed. + </p> + <p> + “And now, Chatellerault having failed in his purpose, the King chooses a + more dangerous person for the gratifying of his desires. He sends the + Marquis, Marcel de Bardelys to Lavedan on the same business. No doubt he + attributes Chatellerault's failure to clumsiness, and he has decided this + time to choose a man famed for courtly address and gifted with such arts + of dalliance that he cannot fail but enmesh my daughter in them. It is a + great compliment that he pays us in sending hither the handsomest and most + accomplished gentleman of all his Court—so fame has it—yet it + is a compliment of whose flattery I am not sensible. Bardelys goes hence + as empty-handed as went Chatellerault. Let him but show his face, and my + daughter journeys to Auch again. Am I not well advised, Monsieur de + Lesperon?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” I answered slowly, after the manner of one who deliberates, + “if you are persuaded that your conclusions touching Bardelys are + correct.” + </p> + <p> + “I am more than persuaded. What other business could bring him to + Lavedan?” + </p> + <p> + It was a question that I did not attempt to answer. Haply he did not + expect me to answer it. He left me free to ponder another issue of this + same business of which my mind was become very full. Chatellerault had not + dealt fairly with me. Often, since I had left Paris, had I marvelled that + he came to be so rash as to risk his fortune upon a matter that turned + upon a woman's whim. That I possessed undeniable advantages of person, of + birth, and of wealth, Chatellerault could not have disregarded. Yet these, + and the possibility that they might suffice to engage this lady's + affections, he appeared to have set at naught when he plunged into that + rash wager. + </p> + <p> + He must have realized that because he had failed was no reason to presume + that I must also fail. There was no consequence in such an argument, and + often, as I have said, had I marvelled during the past days at the + readiness with which Chatellerault had flung down the gage. Now I held the + explanation of it. He counted upon the Vicomte de Lavedan to reason + precisely as he was reasoning, and he was confident that no opportunities + would be afforded me of so much as seeing this beautiful and cold + Roxalanne. + </p> + <p> + It was a wily trap he had set me, worthy only of a trickster. + </p> + <p> + Fate, however, had taken a hand in the game, and the cards were redealt + since I had left Paris. The terms of the wager permitted me to choose any + line of action that I considered desirable; but Destiny, it seemed, had + chosen for me, and set me in a line that should at least suffice to + overcome the parental resistance—that breastwork upon which + Chatellerault had so confidently depended. + </p> + <p> + As the rebel Rene de Lesperon I was sheltered at Lavedan and made welcome + by my fellow-rebel the Vicomte, who already seemed much taken with me, and + who had esteemed me before seeing me from the much that Monsieur de Marsac—whoever + he might be—had told him of me. As Rene de Lesperon I must remain, + and turn to best account my sojourn, praying God meanwhile that this same + Monsieur de Marsac might be pleased to refrain from visiting Lavedan + whilst I was there. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. IN CONVALESCENCE + </h2> + <p> + Of the week that followed my coming to Lavedan I find some difficulty in + writing. It was for me a time very crowded with events—events that + appeared to be moulding my character anew and making of me a person + different, indeed, from that Marcel de Bardelys whom in Paris they called + the Magnificent. Yet these events, although significant in their total, + were of so vague and slight a nature in their detail, that when I come to + write of them I find really little that I may set down. + </p> + <p> + Rodenard and his companions remained for two days at the chateau, and to + me his sojourn there was a source of perpetual anxiety, for I knew not how + far the fool might see fit to prolong it. It was well for me that this + anxiety of mine was shared by Monsieur de Lavedan, who disliked at such a + time the presence of men attached to one who was so notoriously of the + King's party. He came at last to consult me as to what measures might be + taken to remove them, and I—nothing loath to conspire with him to so + desirable end—bade him suggest to Rodenard that perhaps evil had + befallen Monsieur de Bardelys, and that, instead of wasting his time at + Lavedan, he were better advised to be searching the province for his + master. + </p> + <p> + This counsel the Vicomte adopted, and with such excellent results that + that very day—within the hour, in fact—Ganymede, aroused to a + sense of his proper duty, set out in quest of me, not a little disturbed + in mind—for with all his shortcomings the rascal loved me very + faithfully. + </p> + <p> + That was on the third day of my sojourn at Lavedan. On the morrow I rose, + my foot being sufficiently recovered to permit it. I felt a little weak + from loss of blood, but Anatole—who, for all his evil countenance, + was a kindly and gentle—servant was confident that a few days—a + week at most—would see me completely restored. + </p> + <p> + Of leaving Lavedan I said nothing. But the Vicomte, who was one of the + most generous and noble hearted men that it has ever been my good fortune + to meet, forestalled any mention of my departure by urging that I should + remain at the chateau until my recovery were completed, and, for that + matter, as long thereafter as should suit my inclinations. + </p> + <p> + “At Lavedan you will be safe, my friend,” he assured me; “for, as I have + told you, we are under no suspicion. Let me urge you to remain until the + King shall have desisted from further persecuting us.” + </p> + <p> + And when I protested and spoke of trespassing, he waived the point with a + brusqueness that amounted almost to anger. + </p> + <p> + “Believe, monsieur, that I am pleased and honoured at serving one who has + so stoutly served the Cause and sacrificed so much to it.” + </p> + <p> + At that, being not altogether dead to shame, I winced, and told myself + that my behaviour was unworthy, and that I was practising a detestable + deception. Yet some indulgence I may justly claim in consideration of how + far I was victim of circumstance. Did I tell him that I was Bardelys, I + was convinced that I should never leave the chateau alive. Very + noble-hearted was the Vicomte, and no man have I known more averse to + bloodthirstiness, but he had told me much during the days that I had lain + abed, and many lives would be jeopardized did I proclaim what I had + learned from him. Hence I argued that any disclosure of my identity must + perforce drive him to extreme measures for the sake of the friends he had + unwittingly betrayed. + </p> + <p> + On the day after Rodenard's departure I dined with the family, and met + again Mademoiselle de Lavedan, whom I had not seen since the balcony + adventure of some nights ago. The Vicomtesse was also present, a lady of + very austere and noble appearance—lean as a pike and with a most + formidable nose—but, as I was soon to discover, with a mind + inclining overmuch to scandal and the high-seasoned talk of the Courts in + which her girlhood had been spent. + </p> + <p> + From her lips I heard that day the old, scandalous story of Monseigneur de + Richelieu's early passion for Anne of Austria. With much unction did she + tell us how the Queen had lured His Eminence to dress himself in the + motley of a jester that she might make a mock of him in the eyes of the + courtiers she had concealed behind the arras of her chamber. + </p> + <p> + This anecdote she gave us with much wealth of discreditable detail and + scant regard for either her daughter's presence or for the blushes that + suffused the poor child's cheeks. In every way she was a pattern of the + class of women amongst whom my youth had been spent, a class which had + done so much towards shattering my faith and lowering my estimate of her + sex. Lavedan had married her and brought her into Languedoc, and here she + spent her years lamenting the scenes of her youth, and prone, it would + seem, to make them matter for conversation whenever a newcomer chanced to + present himself at the chateau. + </p> + <p> + Looking from her to her daughter, I thanked Heaven that Roxalanne was no + reproduction of the mother. She had inherited as little of her character + as of her appearance. Both in feature and in soul Mademoiselle de Lavedan + was a copy of that noble, gallant gentleman, her father. + </p> + <p> + One other was present at that meal, of whom I shall have more to say + hereafter. This was a young man of good presence, save, perhaps, a too + obtrusive foppishness, whom Monsieur de Lavedan presented to me as a + distant kinsman of theirs, one Chevalier de Saint-Eustache. He was very + tall—of fully my own height—and of an excellent shape, + although extremely young. But his head if anything was too small for his + body, and his good-natured mouth was of a weakness that was confirmed by + the significance of his chin, whilst his eyes were too closely set to + augur frankness. + </p> + <p> + He was a pleasant fellow, seemingly of that negative pleasantness that + lies in inoffensiveness, but otherwise dull and of an untutored mind—rustic, + as might be expected in one the greater part of whose life had been spent + in his native province, and of a rusticity rendered all the more flagrant + by the very efforts he exerted to dissemble it. + </p> + <p> + It was after madame had related that unsavoury anecdote touching the + Cardinal that he turned to ask me whether I was well acquainted with the + Court. I was near to committing the egregious blunder of laughing in his + face, but, recollecting myself betimes, I answered vaguely that I had some + knowledge of it, whereupon he all but caused me to bound from my chair by + asking me had I ever met the Magnificent Bardelys. + </p> + <p> + “I—I am acquainted with him,” I answered warily. “Why do you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “I was reminded of him by the fact that his servants have been here for + two days. You were expecting the Marquis himself, were you not, Monsieur + le Vicomte?” + </p> + <p> + Lavedan raised his head suddenly, after the manner of a man who has + received an affront. + </p> + <p> + “I was not, Chevalier,” he answered, with emphasis. “His intendant, an + insolent knave of the name of Rodenard, informed me that this Bardelys + projected visiting me. He has not come, and I devoutly hope that he may + not come. Trouble enough had I to rid myself of his servants, and but for + Monsieur de Lesperon's well-conceived suggestion they might still be + here.” + </p> + <p> + “You have never met him, monsieur?” inquired the Chevalier. + </p> + <p> + “Never,” replied our host in such a way that any but a fool must have + understood that he desired nothing less than such a meeting. + </p> + <p> + “A delightful fellow,” murmured Saint-Eustache—“a brilliant, + dazzling personality.” + </p> + <p> + “You—you are acquainted with him?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Acquainted?” echoed that boastful liar. “We were as brothers.” + </p> + <p> + “How you interest me! And why have you never told us?” quoth madame, her + eyes turned enviously upon the young man—as enviously as were + Lavedan's turned in disgust. “It is a thousand pities that Monsieur de + Bardelys has altered his plans and is no longer coming to us. To meet such + a man is to breathe again the air of the grand monde. You remember, + Monsieur de Lesperon, that affair with the Duchess de Bourgogne?” And she + smiled wickedly in my direction. + </p> + <p> + “I have some recollection of it,” I answered coldly. “But I think that + rumour exaggerates. When tongues wag, a little rivulet is often described + as a mountain torrent.” + </p> + <p> + “You would not say so did you but know what I know,” she informed me + roguishly. “Often, I confess, rumour may swell the importance of such an + affaire, but in this case I do not think that rumour does it justice.” + </p> + <p> + I made a deprecatory gesture, and I would have had the subject changed, + but ere I could make an effort to that end, the fool Saint-Eustache was + babbling again. + </p> + <p> + “You remember the duel that was fought in consequence, Monsieur de + Lesperon?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I assented wearily. + </p> + <p> + “And in which a poor young fellow lost his life,” growled the Vicomte. “It + was practically a murder.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, monsieur,” I cried, with a sudden heat that set them staring at me; + “there you do him wrong. Monsieur de Bardelys was opposed to the best + blade in France. The man's reputation as a swordsman was of such a quality + that for a twelvemonth he had been living upon it, doing all manner of + unseemly things immune from punishment by the fear in which he was + universally held. His behaviour in the unfortunate affair we are + discussing was of a particularly shameful character. Oh, I know the + details, messieurs, I can sure you. He thought to impose his reputation + upon Bardelys as he had imposed it upon a hundred others, but Bardelys was + over-tough for his teeth. He sent that notorious young gentleman a + challenge, and on the following morning he left him dead in the + horsemarket behind the Hotel Vendome. But far from a murder, monsieur, it + was an act of justice, and the most richly earned punishment with which + ever man was visited.” + </p> + <p> + “Even if so,” cried the Vicomte in some surprise, “why all this heat to + defend a brawler?” + </p> + <p> + “A brawler?” I repeated after him. “Oh, no. That is a charge his worst + enemies cannot make against Bardelys. He is no brawler. The duel in + question was his first affair of the kind, and it has been his last, for + unto him has clung the reputation that had belonged until then to La + Vertoile, and there is none in France bold enough to send a challenge to + him.” And, seeing what surprise I was provoking, I thought it well to + involve another with me in his defence. So, turning to the Chevalier, “I + am sure,” said I, “that Monsieur de Saint-Eustache will confirm my words.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon, his vanity being all aroused, the Chevalier set himself to + paraphrase all that I had said with a heat that cast mine into a miserable + insignificance. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” laughed the Vicomte at length, “he lacks not for champions. + For my own part, I am content to pray Heaven that he come not to Lavedan, + as he intended.” + </p> + <p> + “Mais voyons, Gaston,” the Vicomtesse protested, “why harbour prejudice? + Wait at least until you have seen him, that you may judge him for + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Already have I judged him; I pray that I may never see him.” + </p> + <p> + “They tell me he is a very handsome man,” said she, appealing to me for + confirmation. Lavedan shot her a sudden glance of alarm, at which I could + have laughed. Hitherto his sole concern had been his daughter, but it + suddenly occurred to him that perhaps not even her years might set the + Vicomtesse in safety from imprudences with this devourer of hearts, should + he still chance to come that way. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” I answered, “he is accounted not ill-favored.” And with a + deprecatory smile I added, “I am said somewhat to resemble him.” + </p> + <p> + “Say you so?” she exclaimed, raising her eyebrows, and looking at me more + closely than hitherto. And then it seemed to me that into her face crept a + shade of disappointment. If this Bardelys were not more beautiful than I, + then he was not nearly so beautiful a man as she had imagined. She turned + to Saint-Eustache. + </p> + <p> + “It is indeed so, Chevalier?” she inquired. “Do you note the resemblance?” + </p> + <p> + “Vanitas, vanitate,” murmured the youth, who had some scraps of Latin and + a taste for airing them. “I can see no likeness—no trace of one. + Monsieur de Lesperon is well enough, I should say. But Bardelys!” He cast + his eyes to the ceiling. “There is but one Bardelys in France.” + </p> + <p> + “Enfin,” I laughed, “you are no doubt well qualified to judge, Chevalier. + I had flattered myself that some likeness did exist, but probably you have + seen the Marquis more frequently than have I, and probably you know him + better. Nevertheless, should he come his way, I will ask you to look at us + side by side and be the judge of the resemblance.” + </p> + <p> + “Should I happen to be here,” he said, with a sudden constraint not + difficult to understand, “I shall be happy to act as arbiter.” + </p> + <p> + “Should you happen to be here?” I echoed questioningly. “But surely, + should you hear that Monsieur de Bardelys is about to arrive, you will + postpone any departure you may be on the point of making, so that you may + renew this great friendship that you tell us you do the Marquis the honour + of entertaining for him?” + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier eyed me with the air of a man looking down from a great + height upon another. The Vicomte smiled quietly to himself as he combed + his fair beard with his forefinger in a meditative fashion, whilst even + Roxalanne—who had sat silently listening to a conversation that she + was at times mercifully spared from following too minutely—flashed + me a humorous glance. To the Vicomtesse alone who in common with women of + her type was of a singular obtuseness—was the situation without + significance. + </p> + <p> + Saint-Eustache, to defend himself against my delicate imputation, and to + show how well acquainted he was with Bardelys, plunged at once into a + thousand details of that gentleman's magnificence. He described his + suppers, his retinue, his equipages, his houses, his chateaux, his favour + with the King, his successes with the fair sex, and I know not what + besides—in all of which I confess that even to me there was a + certain degree of novelty. Roxalanne listened with an air of amusement + that showed how well she read him. Later, when I found myself alone with + her by the river, whither we had gone after the repast and the Chevalier's + reminiscences were at an end, she reverted to that conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Is not my cousin a great fanfarron, monsieur,” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Surely you know your cousin better than I,” I answered cautiously. “Why + question me upon his character?” + </p> + <p> + “I was hardly questioning; I was commenting. He spent a fortnight in Paris + once, and he accounts himself, or would have us account him, intimate with + every courtier at the Luxembourg. Oh, he is very amusing, this good + cousin, but tiresome too.” She laughed, and there was the faintest note of + scorn in her amusement. “Now, touching this Marquis de Bardelys, it is + very plain that the Chevalier boasted when he said that they were as + brothers—he and the Marquis—is it not? He grew ill at ease + when you reminded him of the possibility of the Marquis's visit to + Lavedan.” And she laughed quaintly to herself. “Do you think that he so + much as knows Bardelys?” she asked me suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Not so much as by sight,” I answered. “He is full of information + concerning that unworthy gentleman, but it is only information that the + meanest scullion in Paris might afford you, and just as inaccurate.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you speak of him as unworthy? Are you of the same opinion as my + father?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, and with better cause.” + </p> + <p> + “You know him well?” + </p> + <p> + “Know him? Pardieu, he is my worst enemy. A worn-out libertine; a + sneering, cynical misogynist; a nauseated reveller; a hateful egotist. + There is no more unworthy person, I'll swear, in all France. Peste! The + very memory of the fellow makes me sick. Let us talk of other things.” + </p> + <p> + But although I urged it with the best will and the best intentions in the + world, I was not to have my way. The air became suddenly heavy with the + scent of musk, and the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache stood before us, and + forced the conversation once more upon the odious topic of Monsieur de + Bardelys. + </p> + <p> + The poor fool came with a plan of campaign carefully considered, bent now + upon overthrowing me with the knowledge he would exhibit, and whereby he + looked to encompass my humiliation before his cousin. + </p> + <p> + “Speaking of Bardelys, Monsieur de Lesperon—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Chevalier, we were no longer speaking of him.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled darkly. “Let us speak of him, then.” + </p> + <p> + “But are there not a thousand more interesting things that we might speak + of?” + </p> + <p> + This he took for a fresh sign of fear, and so he pressed what he accounted + his advantage. + </p> + <p> + “Yet have patience; there is a point on which perhaps you can give me some + information.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Are you acquainted with the Duchesse de Bourgogne?” + </p> + <p> + “I was,” I answered casually, and as casually I added, “Are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Excellently well,” he replied unhesitatingly. “I was in Paris at the time + of the scandal with Bardelys.” + </p> + <p> + I looked up quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Was it then that you met her?” I inquired in an idle sort of way. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I was in the confidence of Bardelys, and one night after we had + supped at his hotel—one of those suppers graced by every wit in + Paris—he asked me if I were minded to accompany him to the Louvre. + We went. A masque was in progress.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said I, after the manner of one who suddenly takes in the entire + situation; “and it was at this masque that you met the Duchesse?” + </p> + <p> + “You have guessed it. Ah, monsieur, if I were to tell you of the things + that I witnessed that night, they would amaze you,” said he, with a great + air and a casual glance at Mademoiselle to see into what depth of wonder + these glimpses into his wicked past were plunging her. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt it not,” said I, thinking that if his imagination were as fertile + in that connection as it had been in mine he was likely, indeed, to have + some amazing things to tell. “But do I understand you to say that that was + the time of the scandal you have touched upon?” + </p> + <p> + “The scandal burst three days after that masque. It came as a surprise to + most people. As for me—from what Bardelys had told me—I + expected nothing less.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, Chevalier, but how old do you happen to be?” + </p> + <p> + “A curious question that,” said he, knitting his brows. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps. But will you not answer it?” + </p> + <p> + “I am twenty-one,” said he. “What of it?” + </p> + <p> + “You are twenty, mon cousin,” Roxalanne corrected him. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her a second with an injured air. + </p> + <p> + “Why, true—twenty! That is so,” he acquiesced; and again, “what of + it?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “What of it, monsieur?” I echoed. “Will you forgive me if I express + amazement at your precocity, and congratulate you upon it?” + </p> + <p> + His brows went if possible closer together and his face grew very red. He + knew that somewhere a pitfall awaited him, yet hardly where. + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “Bethink you, Chevalier. Ten years have flown since this scandal you refer + to. So that at the time of your supping with Bardelys and the wits of + Paris, at the time of his making a confidant of you and carrying you off + to a masque at the Louvre, at the time of his presenting you to the + Duchesse de Bourgogne, you were just ten years of age. I never had cause + to think over-well of Bardelys, but had you not told me yourself, I should + have hesitated to believe him so vile a despoiler of innocence, such a + perverter of youth.” + </p> + <p> + He crimsoned to the very roots of his hair. + </p> + <p> + Roxalanne broke into a laugh. “My cousin, my cousin,” she cried, “they + that would become masters should begin early, is it not so?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Lesperon,” said he, in a very formal voice, “do you wish me + to apprehend that you have put me through this catechism for the purpose + of casting a doubt upon what I have said?” + </p> + <p> + “But have I done that? Have I cast a doubt?” I asked, with the utmost + meekness. + </p> + <p> + “So I apprehend.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you apprehend amiss. Your words, I assure you, admit of no doubt + whatever. And now, monsieur, if you will have mercy upon me, we will talk + of other things. I am so weary of this unfortunate Bardelys and his + affairs. He may be the fashion of Paris and at Court, but down here his + very name befouls the air. Mademoiselle,” I said, turning to Roxalanne, + “you promised me a lesson in the lore of flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, then,” said she, and, being an exceedingly wise child, she plunged + straightway into the history of the shrubs about us. + </p> + <p> + Thus did we avert a storm that for a moment was very imminent. Yet some + mischief was done, and some good, too, perhaps. For if I made an enemy of + the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache by humbling him in the eyes of the one + woman before whom he sought to shine, I established a bond 'twixt + Roxalanne and myself by that same humiliation of a foolish coxcomb, whose + boastfulness had long wearied her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE HOSTILITY OF SAINT-EUSTACHE + </h2> + <p> + In the days that followed I saw much of the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache. + He was a very constant visitor at Lavedan, and the reason of it was not + far to seek. For my own part, I disliked him—I had done so from the + moment when first I had set eyes on him—and since hatred, like + affection, is often a matter of reciprocity, the Chevalier was not slow to + return my dislike. Our manner gradually, by almost imperceptible stages, + grew more distant, until by the end of a week it had become so hostile + that Lavedan found occasion to comment upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Beware of Saint-Eustache,” he warned me. “You are becoming very + manifestly distasteful to each other, and I would urge you to have a care. + I don't trust him. His attachment to our Cause is of a lukewarm character, + and he gives me uneasiness, for he may do much harm if he is so inclined. + It is on this account that I tolerate his presence at Lavedan. Frankly, I + fear him, and I would counsel you to do no less. The man is a liar, even + if but a boastful liar and liars are never long out of mischief.” + </p> + <p> + The wisdom of the words was unquestionable, but the advice in them was not + easily followed, particularly by one whose position was so peculiar as my + own. In a way I had little cause to fear the harm the Chevalier might do + me, but I was impelled to consider the harm that at the same time he might + do the Vicomte. + </p> + <p> + Despite our growing enmity, the Chevalier and I were very frequently + thrown together. The reason for this was, of course, that wherever + Roxalanne was to be found there, generally, were we both to be found also. + Yet had I advantages that must have gone to swell a rancour based as much + upon jealousy as any other sentiment, for whilst he was but a daily + visitor at Lavedan, I was established there indefinitely. + </p> + <p> + Of the use that I made of that time I find it difficult to speak. From the + first moment that I had beheld Roxalanne I had realized the truth of + Chatellerault's assertion that I had never known a woman. He was right. + Those that I had met and by whom I had judged the sex had, by contrast + with this child, little claim to the title. Virtue I had accounted a + shadow without substance; innocence, a synonym for ignorance; love, a + fable, a fairy tale for the delectation of overgrown children. + </p> + <p> + In the company of Roxalanne de Lavedan all those old, cynical beliefs, + built up upon a youth of undesirable experiences, were shattered and the + error of them exposed. Swiftly was I becoming a convert to the faith which + so long I had sneered at, and as lovesick as any unfledged youth in his + first amour. + </p> + <p> + Damn! It was something for a man who had lived as I had lived to have his + pulses quicken and his colour change at a maid's approach; to find himself + colouring under her smile and paling under her disdain; to have his mind + running on rhymes, and his soul so enslaved that, if she is not to be won, + chagrin will dislodge it from his body. + </p> + <p> + Here was a fine mood for a man who had entered upon his business by + pledging himself to win and wed this girl in cold and supreme indifference + to her personality. And that pledge, how I cursed it during those days at + Lavedan! How I cursed Chatellerault, cunning, subtle trickster that he + was! How I cursed myself for my lack of chivalry and honour in having been + lured so easily into so damnable a business! For when the memory of that + wager rose before me it brought despair in its train. Had I found + Roxalanne the sort of woman that I had looked to find—the only sort + that I had ever known—then matters had been easy. I had set myself + in cold blood, and by such wiles as I knew, to win such affection as might + be hers to bestow; and I would have married her in much the same spirit as + a man performs any other of the necessary acts of his lifetime and + station. I would have told her that I was Bardelys, and to the woman that + I had expected to find there had been no difficulty in making the + confession. But to Roxalanne! Had there been no wager, I might have + confessed my identity. As it was, I found it impossible to avow the one + without the other. For the sweet innocence that invested her gentle, + trusting soul must have given pause to any but the most abandoned of men + before committing a vileness in connection with her. + </p> + <p> + We were much together during that week, and just as day by day, hour by + hour, my passion grew and grew until it absorbed me utterly, so, too, did + it seem to me that it awakened in her a responsive note. There was an odd + light at times in her soft eyes; I came upon her more than once with + snatches of love-songs on her lips, and when she smiled upon me there was + a sweet tenderness in her smile, which, had things been different, would + have gladdened my soul beyond all else; but which, things being as they + were, was rather wont to heighten my despair. I was no coxcomb; I had had + experiences, and I knew these signs. But something, too, I guessed of the + heart of such a one as Roxalanne. To the full I realized the pain and + shame I should inflict upon her when my confession came; I realized, too, + how the love of this dear child, so honourable and high of mind, must turn + to contempt and scorn when I plucked away my mask, and let her see how + poor a countenance I wore beneath. + </p> + <p> + And yet I drifted with the tide of things. It was my habit so to drift, + and the habit of a lifetime is not to be set at naught in a day by a + resolve, however firm. A score of times was I reminded that an evil is but + increased by being ignored. A score of times confession trembled on my + lips, and I burned to tell her everything from its inception—the + environment that had erstwhile warped me, the honesty by which I was now + inspired—and so cast myself upon the mercy of her belief. + </p> + <p> + She might accept my story, and, attaching credit to it, forgive me the + deception I had practised, and recognize the great truth that must ring + out in the avowal of my love. But, on the other hand, she might not accept + it; she might deem my confession a shrewd part of my scheme, and the dread + of that kept me silent day by day. + </p> + <p> + Fully did I see how with every hour that sped confession became more and + more difficult. The sooner the thing were done, the greater the likelihood + of my being believed; the later I left it, the more probable was it that I + should be discredited. Alas! Bardelys, it seemed, had added cowardice to + his other short-comings. + </p> + <p> + As for the coldness of Roxalanne, that was a pretty fable of + Chatellerault's; or else no more than an assumption, an invention of the + imaginative La Fosse. Far, indeed, from it, I found no arrogance or + coldness in her. All unversed in the artifices of her sex, all + unacquainted with the wiles of coquetry, she was the very incarnation of + naturalness and maidenly simplicity. To the tales that—with many + expurgations—I told her of Court life, to the pictures that I drew + of Paris, the Luxembourg, the Louvre, the Palais Cardinal, and the + courtiers that thronged those historic palaces, she listened avidly and + enthralled; and much as Othello won the heart of Desdemona by a recital of + the perils he had endured, so it seemed to me was I winning the heart of + Roxalanne by telling her of the things that I had seen. + </p> + <p> + Once or twice she expressed wonder at the depth and intimacy of the + knowledge of such matters exhibited by a simple Gascon gentleman, + whereupon I would urge, in explanation, the appointment in the Guards that + Lesperon had held some few years ago, a position that will reveal much to + an observant man. + </p> + <p> + The Vicomte noted our growing intimacy, yet set no restraint upon it. Down + in his heart I believe that noble gentleman would have been well pleased + had matters gone to extremes between us, for however impoverished he might + deem me; Lesperon's estates in Gascony being, as I have said, likely to + suffer sequestration in view of his treason—he remembered the causes + of this and the deep devotion of the man I impersonated to the affairs of + Gaston d'Orleans. + </p> + <p> + Again, he feared the very obvious courtship of the Chevalier de + Saint-Eustache, and he would have welcomed a turn of events that would + effectually have frustrated it. That he did not himself interfere so far + as the Chevalier's wooing was concerned, I could but set down to the + mistrust of Saint-Eustache—amounting almost to fear—of which + he had spoken. + </p> + <p> + As for the Vicomtesse, the same causes that had won me some of the + daughter's regard gained me also no little of the mother's. + </p> + <p> + She had been attached to the Chevalier until my coming. But what did the + Chevalier know of the great world compared with what I could tell? Her + love of scandal drew her to me with inquiries upon this person and that + person, many of them but names to her. + </p> + <p> + My knowledge and wealth of detail—for all that I curbed it lest I + should seem to know too much—delighted her prurient soul. Had she + been more motherly, this same knowledge that I exhibited should have made + her ponder what manner of life I had led, and should have inspired her to + account me no fit companion for her daughter. But a selfish woman, little + inclined to be plagued by the concerns of another—even when that + other was her daughter—she left things to the destructive course + that they were shaping. + </p> + <p> + And so everything—if we except perhaps the Chevalier de + Saint-Eustache—conspired to the advancement of my suit, in a manner + that must have made Chatellerault grind his teeth in rage if he could have + witnessed it, but which made me grind mine in despair when I pondered the + situation in detail. + </p> + <p> + One evening—I had been ten days at the chateau—we went a + half-league or so up the Garonne in a boat, she and I. As we were + returning, drifting with the stream, the oars idle in my hand, I spoke of + leaving Lavedan. + </p> + <p> + She looked up quickly; her expression was almost of alarm, and her eyes + dilated as they met mine—for, as I have said, she was all unversed + in the ways of her sex, and by nature too guileless to attempt to disguise + her feelings or dissemble them. + </p> + <p> + “But why must you go so soon?” she asked. “You are safe at Lavedan, and + abroad you may be in danger. It was but two days ago that they took a poor + young gentleman of these parts at Pau; so that you see the persecution is + not yet ended. Are you”—and her voice trembled ever so slightly—“are + you weary of us, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head at that, and smiled wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “Weary?” I echoed. “Surely, mademoiselle, you do not think it? Surely your + heart must tell you something very different?” + </p> + <p> + She dropped her eyes before the passion of my gaze. And when presently she + answered me, there was no guile in her words; there were the dictates of + the intuitions of her sex, and nothing more. + </p> + <p> + “But it is possible, monsieur. You are accustomed to the great world—” + </p> + <p> + “The great world of Lesperon, in Gascony?” I interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; the great world you have inhabited at Paris and elsewhere. I can + understand that at Lavedan you should find little of interest, and—and + that your inactivity should render you impatient to be gone.” + </p> + <p> + “If there were so little to interest me then it might be as you say. But, + oh, mademoiselle—” I ceased abruptly. Fool! I had almost fallen a + prey to the seductions that the time afforded me. The balmy, languorous + eventide, the broad, smooth river down which we glided, the foliage, the + shadows on the water, her presence, and our isolation amid such + surroundings, had almost blotted out the matter of the wager and of my + duplicity. + </p> + <p> + She laughed a little nervous laugh, and—maybe to ease the tension + that my sudden silence had begotten—“You see,” she said, “how your + imagination deserts you when you seek to draw upon it for proof of what + you protest. You were about to tell me of—of the interests that hold + you at Lavedan, and when you come to ponder them, you find that you can + think of nothing. Is it—is it not so?” She put the question very + timidly, as if half afraid of the answer she might provoke. + </p> + <p> + “No; it is not so,” I said. + </p> + <p> + I paused a moment, and in that moment I wrestled with myself. Confession + and avowal—confession of what I had undertaken, and avowal of the + love that had so unexpectedly come to me—trembled upon my lips, to + be driven shuddering away in fear. + </p> + <p> + Have I not said that this Bardelys was become a coward? Then my cowardice + suggested a course to me—flight. I would leave Lavedan. I would + return to Paris and to Chatellerault, owning defeat and paying my wager. + It was the only course open to me. My honour, so tardily aroused, demanded + no less. Yet, not so much because of that as because it was suddenly + revealed to me as the easier course, did I determine to pursue it. What + thereafter might become of me I did not know, nor in that hour of my + heart's agony did it seem to matter overmuch. + </p> + <p> + “There is much, mademoiselle, much, indeed, to hold me firmly at Lavedan,” + I pursued at last. “But my—my obligations demand of me that I + depart.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean the Cause,” she cried. “But, believe me, you can do nothing. To + sacrifice yourself cannot profit it. Infinitely better you can serve the + Duke by waiting until the time is ripe for another blow. And how can you + better preserve your life than by remaining at Lavedan until the + persecutions are at an end?” + </p> + <p> + “I was not thinking of the Cause, mademoiselle, but of myself alone—of + my own personal honour. I would that I could explain; but I am afraid,” I + ended lamely. + </p> + <p> + “Afraid?” she echoed, now raising her eyes in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, afraid. Afraid of your contempt, of your scorn.” + </p> + <p> + The wonder in her glance increased and asked a question that I could not + answer. I stretched forward, and caught one of the hands lying idle in her + lap. + </p> + <p> + “Roxalanne,” I murmured very gently, and my tone, my touch, and the use of + her name drove her eyes for refuge behind their lids again. A flush spread + upon the ivory pallor of her face, to fade as swiftly, leaving it very + white. Her bosom rose and fell in agitation, and the little hand I held + trembled in my grasp. There was a moment's silence. Not that I had need to + think or choose my words. But there was a lump in my throat—aye, I + take no shame in confessing it, for this was the first time that a good + and true emotion had been vouchsafed me since the Duchesse de Bourgogne + had shattered my illusions ten years ago. + </p> + <p> + “Roxalanne,” I resumed presently, when I was more master of myself, “we + have been good friends, you and I, since that night when I climbed for + shelter to your chamber, have we not?” + </p> + <p> + “But yes, monsieur,” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “Ten days ago it is. Think of it—no more than ten days. And it seems + as if I had been months at Lavedan, so well have we become acquainted. In + these ten days we have formed opinions of each other. But with this + difference, that whilst mine are right, yours are wrong. I have come to + know you for the sweetest, gentlest saint in all this world. Would to God + I had known you earlier! It might have been very different; I might have + been—I would have been—different, and I would not have done + what I have done. You have come to know me for an unfortunate but honest + gentleman. Such am I not. I am under false colours here, mademoiselle. + Unfortunate I may be—at least, of late I seem to have become so. + Honest I am not—I have not been. There, child, I can tell you no + more. I am too great a coward. But when later you shall come to hear the + truth—when, after I am gone, they may tell you a strange story + touching this fellow Lesperon who sought the hospitality of your father's + house—bethink you of my restraint in this hour; bethink you of my + departure. You will understand these things perhaps afterwards. But + bethink you of them, and you will unriddle them for yourself, perhaps. Be + merciful upon me then; judge me not over-harshly.” + </p> + <p> + I paused, and for a moment we were silent. Then suddenly she looked up; + her fingers tightened upon mine. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Lesperon,” she pleaded, “of what do speak? You are torturing + me, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Look in my face, Roxalanne. Can you see nothing there of how I am + torturing myself?” + </p> + <p> + “Then tell me, monsieur,” she begged, her voice a very caress of suppliant + softness,—“tell me what vexes you and sets a curb upon your tongue. + You exaggerate, I am assured. You could do nothing dishonourable, nothing + vile.” + </p> + <p> + “Child,” I cried, “I thank God that you are right! I cannot do what is + dishonourable, and I will not, for all that a month ago I pledged myself + to do it!” + </p> + <p> + A sudden horror, a doubt, a suspicion flashed into her glance. + </p> + <p> + “You—you do not mean that you are a spy?” she asked; and from my + heart a prayer of thanks went up to Heaven that this at least it was mine + frankly to deny. + </p> + <p> + “No, no—not that. I am no spy.” + </p> + <p> + Her face cleared again, and she sighed. + </p> + <p> + “It is, I think, the only thing I could not forgive. Since it is not that, + will you not tell me what it is?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment the temptation to confess, to tell her everything, was again + upon me. But the futility of it appalled me. + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask me,” I besought her; “you will learn it soon enough.” For I was + confident that once my wager was paid, the news of it and of the ruin of + Bardelys would spread across the face of France like a ripple over water. + Presently— + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me for having come into your life, Roxalanne!” I implored her, + and then I sighed again. “Helas! Had I but known you earlier! I did not + dream such women lived in this worn-out France.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not pry, monsieur, since your resolve appears to be so firm. But + if—if after I have heard this thing you speak of,” she said + presently, speaking with averted eyes, “and if, having heard it, I judge + you more mercifully than you judge yourself, and I send for you, will you—will + you come back to Lavedan?” + </p> + <p> + My heart gave a great bound—a great, a sudden throb of hope. But as + sudden and as great was the rebound into despair. + </p> + <p> + “You will not send for me, be assured of that,” I said with finality; and + we spoke no more. + </p> + <p> + I took the oars and plied them vigorously. I was in haste to end the + situation. Tomorrow I must think of my departure, and, as I rowed, I + pondered the words that had passed between us. Not one word of love had + there been, and yet, in the very omission of it, avowal had lain on either + side. A strange wooing had been mine—a wooing that precluded the + possibility of winning, and yet a wooing that had won. Aye, it had won; + but it might not take. I made fine distinctions and quaint paradoxes as I + tugged at my oars, for the human mind is a curiously complex thing, and + with some of us there is no such spur to humour as the sting of pain. + </p> + <p> + Roxalanne sat white and very thoughtful, but with veiled eyes, so that I + might guess nothing of what passed within her mind. + </p> + <p> + At last we reached the chateau, and as I brought the boat to the terrace + steps, it was Saint-Eustache who came forward to offer his wrist to + Mademoiselle. + </p> + <p> + He noted the pallor of her face, and darted me a quick, suspicion-laden + glance. As we were walking towards the chateau— + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Lesperon,” said he in a curious tone, “do you know that a + rumour of your death is current in the province?” + </p> + <p> + “I had hoped that such a rumour might get abroad when I disappeared,” I + answered calmly. + </p> + <p> + “And you have taken no single step to contradict it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I, since in that rumour may be said to lie my safety?” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, monsieur, voyons. Surely you might at least relieve the + anxieties the affliction, I might almost say—of those who are + mourning you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said I. “And who may these be?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders and pursed his lips in a curiously deprecatory + smile. With a sidelong glance at Mademoiselle— + </p> + <p> + “Do you need that I name Mademoiselle de Marsac?” he sneered. + </p> + <p> + I stood still, my wits busily working, my face impassive under his + scrutinizing glance. In a flash it came to me that this must be the writer + of some of the letters Lesperon had given me, the original of the + miniature I carried. + </p> + <p> + As I was silent, I grew suddenly conscious of another pair of eyes + observing me, Mademoiselle's. She remembered what I had said, she may have + remembered how I had cried out the wish that I had met her earlier, and + she may not have been slow to find an interpretation for my words. I could + have groaned in my rage at such a misinterpretation. I could have taken + the Chevalier round to the other side of the chateau and killed him with + the greatest relish in the world. But I restrained myself, I resigned + myself to be misunderstood. What choice had I? + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Saint-Eustache,” said I very coldly, and looking him straight + between his close-set eyes, “I have permitted you many liberties, but + there is one that I cannot permit any one—and, much as I honour you, + I can make no exception in your favour. That is to interfere in my + concerns and presume to dictate to me the manner in which I shall conduct + them. Be good enough to bear that in your memory.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment he was all servility. The sneer passed out of his face, the + arrogance out of his demeanour. He became as full of smiles and capers as + the meanest sycophant. + </p> + <p> + “You will forgive me, monsieur!” he cried, spreading his hands, and with + the humblest smile in the world. “I perceive that I have taken a great + liberty; yet you have misunderstood its purport. I sought to sound you + touching the wisdom of a step upon which I have ventured.” + </p> + <p> + “That is, monsieur?” I asked, throwing back my head, with the scent of + danger breast high. + </p> + <p> + “I took it upon myself to-day to mention the fact that you are alive and + well to one who had a right, I thought, to know of it, and who is coming + hither tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “That was a presumption you may regret,” said I between my teeth. “To whom + do you impart this information?” + </p> + <p> + “To your friend, Monsieur de Marsac,” he answered, and through his mask of + humility the sneer was again growing apparent. “He will be here tomorrow,” + he repeated. + </p> + <p> + Marsac was that friend of Lesperon's to whose warm commendation of the + Gascon rebel I owed the courtesy and kindness that the Vicomte de Lavedan + had meted out to me since my coming. + </p> + <p> + Is it wonderful that I stood as if frozen, my wits refusing to work and my + countenance wearing, I doubt not, a very stricken look? Here was one + coming to Lavedan who knew Lesperon—one who would unmask me and say + that I was an impostor. What would happen then? A spy they would of a + certainty account me, and that they would make short work of me I never + doubted. But that was something that troubled me less than the opinion + Mademoiselle must form. How would she interpret what I had said that day? + In what light would she view me hereafter? + </p> + <p> + Such questions sped like swift arrows through my mind, and in their train + came a dull anger with myself that I had not told her everything that + afternoon. It was too late now. The confession would come no longer of my + own free will, as it might have done an hour ago, but would be forced from + me by the circumstances that impended. Thus it would no longer have any + virtue to recommend it to her mercy. + </p> + <p> + “The news seems hardly welcome, Monsieur de Lesperon,” said Roxalanne in a + voice that was inscrutable. Her tone stirred me, for it betokened + suspicion already. Something might yet chance to aid me, and in the mean + while I might spoil all did I yield to this dread of the morrow. By an + effort I mastered myself, and in tones calm and level, that betrayed + nothing of the tempest in my soul— + </p> + <p> + “It is not welcome, mademoiselle,” I answered. “I have excellent reasons + for not desiring to meet Monsieur de Marsac.” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent, indeed, are they!” lisped Saint-Eustache, with an ugly droop + at the corners of his mouth. “I doubt not you'll find it hard to offer a + plausible reason for having left him and his sister without news that you + were alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said I at random, “why will you drag in his sister's name?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he echoed, and he eyed me with undisguised amusement. He was + standing erect, his head thrown back, his right arm outstretched from the + shoulder, and his hand resting lightly upon the gold mount of his + beribboned cane. He let his eyes wander from me to Roxalanne, then back + again to me. At last: “Is it wonderful that I should drag in the name of + your betrothed?” said he. “But perhaps you will deny that Mademoiselle de + Marsac is that to you?” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + And I, forgetting for the moment the part I played and the man whose + identity I had put on, made answer hotly: “I do deny it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, you lie,” said he, and shrugged hits shoulders with insolent + contempt. + </p> + <p> + In all my life I do not think it could be said of me that I had ever given + way to rage. Rude, untutored minds may fall a prey to passion, but a + gentleman, I hold, is never angry. Nor was I then, so far as the outward + signs of anger count. I doffed my hat with a sweep to Roxalanne, who stood + by with fear and wonder blending in her glance. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, you will forgive that I find it necessary to birch this + babbling schoolboy in your presence.” + </p> + <p> + Then, with the pleasantest manner in the world, I stepped aside, and + plucked the cane from the Chevalier's hand before he had so much as + guessed what I was about. I bowed before him with the utmost politeness, + as if craving his leave and tolerance for what I was about to do, and + then, before he had recovered from his astonishment, I had laid that cane + three times in quick succession across his shoulders. With a cry at once + of pain and of mortification, he sprang back, and his hand dropped to his + hilt. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” Roxalanne cried to him, “do you not see that he is unarmed?” + </p> + <p> + But he saw nothing, or, if he saw, thanked Heaven that things were in such + case, and got his sword out. Thereupon Roxalanne would have stepped + between us, but with arm outstretched I restrained her. + </p> + <p> + “Have no fear, mademoiselle,” said I very quietly; for if the wrist that + had overcome La Vertoile were not with a stick a match for a couple of + such swords as this coxcomb's, then was I forever shamed. + </p> + <p> + He bore down upon me furiously, his point coming straight for my throat. I + took the blade on the cane; then, as he disengaged and came at me lower, I + made counter-parry, and pursuing the circle after I had caught his steel, + I carried it out of his hand. It whirled an instant, a shimmering wheel of + light, then it clattered against the marble balustrade half a dozen yards + away. With his sword it seemed that his courage, too, departed, and he + stood at my mercy, a curious picture of foolishness, surprise, and fear. + </p> + <p> + Now the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache was a young man, and in the young we + can forgive much. But to forgive such an act as he had been guilty of—that + of drawing his sword upon a man who carried no weapons—would have + been not only a ridiculous toleration, but an utter neglect of duty. As an + older man it behoved me to read the Chevalier a lesson in manners and + gentlemanly feeling. So, quite dispassionately, and purely for his own + future good, I went about the task, and administered him a thrashing that + for thoroughness it would be hard to better. I was not discriminating. I + brought my cane down with a rhythmical precision, and whether it took him + on the head, the back, or the shoulders, I held to be more his affair than + mine. I had a moral to inculcate, and the injuries he might receive in the + course of it were inconsiderable details so that the lesson was borne in + upon his soul. Two or three times he sought to close with me, but I eluded + him; I had no mind to descend to a vulgar exchange of blows. My object was + not to brawl, but to administer chastisement, and this object I may claim + to have accomplished with a fair degree of success. + </p> + <p> + At last Roxalanne interfered; but only when one blow a little more + violent, perhaps, than its precursors resulted in the sudden snapping of + the cane and Monsieur de Eustache's utter collapse into a moaning heap. + </p> + <p> + “I deplore, mademoiselle, to have offended your sight with such a + spectacle, but unless these lessons are administered upon the instant + their effect is not half so salutary.” + </p> + <p> + “He deserved it, monsieur,” said she, with a note almost of fierceness in + her voice. And of such poor mettle are we that her resentment against that + groaning mass of fopperies and wheals sent a thrill of pleasure through + me. I walked over to the spot where his sword had fallen, and picked it + up. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Saint-Eustache,” said I, “you have so dishonoured this blade + that I do not think you would care to wear it again.” Saying which, I + snapped it across my knee, and flung it far out into the river, for all + that the hilt was a costly one, richly wrought in bronze and gold. + </p> + <p> + He raised his livid countenance, and his eyes blazed impotent fury. + </p> + <p> + “Par la mort Dieu!” he cried hoarsely, “you shall give me satisfaction for + this!” + </p> + <p> + “If you account yourself still unsatisfied, I am at your service when you + will,” said I courteously. + </p> + <p> + Then, before more could be said, I saw Monsieur de Lavedan and the + Vicomtesse approaching hurriedly across the parterre. The Vicomte's brow + was black with what might have appeared anger, but which I rightly + construed into apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “What has taken place? What have you done?” he asked of me. + </p> + <p> + “He has brutally assaulted the Chevalier,” cried Madame shrilly, her eyes + malevolently set upon me. “He is only a child, this poor Saint-Eustache,” + she reproached me. “I saw it all from my window, Monsieur de Lesperon. It + was brutal; it was cowardly. So to beat a boy! Shame! If you had a quarrel + with him, are there not prescribed methods for their adjustment between + gentlemen? Pardieu, could you not have given him proper satisfaction?” + </p> + <p> + “If madame will give herself the trouble of attentively examining this + poor Saint-Eustache,” said I, with a sarcasm which her virulence prompted, + “you will agree, I think, that I have given him very proper and very + thorough satisfaction. I would have met him sword in hand, but the + Chevalier has the fault of the very young—he is precipitate; he was + in too great a haste, and he could not wait until I got a sword. So I was + forced to do what I could with a cane.” + </p> + <p> + “But you provoked him,” she flashed back. + </p> + <p> + “Whoever told you so has misinformed you, madame. On the contrary, he + provoked me. He gave me the lie. I struck him—could I do less?—and + he drew. I defended myself, and I supplemented my defence by a caning, so + that this poor Saint-Eustache might realize the unworthiness of what he + had done. That is all, madame.” + </p> + <p> + But she was not so easily to be appeased, not even when Mademoiselle and + the Vicomte joined their voices to mine in extenuation of my conduct. It + was like Lavedan. For all that he was full of dread of the result and of + the vengeance Saint-Eustache might wreak—boy though he was—he + expressed himself freely touching the Chevalier's behaviour and the + fittingness of the punishment that had overtaken him. + </p> + <p> + The Vicomtesse stood in small awe of her husband, but his judgment upon a + point of honour was a matter that she would not dare contest. She was + ministering to the still prostrate Chevalier who, I think, remained + prostrate now that he might continue to make appeal to her sympathy—when + suddenly she cut in upon Roxalanne's defence of me. + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been?” she demanded suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “When, my mother?” + </p> + <p> + “This afternoon,” answered the Vicomtesse impatiently. “The Chevalier was + waiting two hours for you.” + </p> + <p> + Roxalanne coloured to the roots of her hair. The Vicomte frowned. + </p> + <p> + “Waiting for me, my mother? But why for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Answer my question—where have you been?” + </p> + <p> + “I was with Monsieur de Lesperon,” she answered simply. + </p> + <p> + “Alone?” the Vicomtesse almost shrieked. + </p> + <p> + “But yes.” The poor child's tones were laden with wonder at this + catechism. + </p> + <p> + “God's death!” she snapped. “It seems that my daughter is no better than—” + </p> + <p> + Heaven knows what may have been coming, for she had the most virulent, + scandalous tongue that I have ever known in a woman's head—which is + much for one who has lived at Court to say. But the Vicomte, sharing my + fears, perhaps, and wishing to spare the child's ears, interposed quickly + “Come, madame, what airs are these? What sudden assumption of graces that + we do not affect? We are not in Paris. This is not the Luxembourg. En + province comme en province, and here we are simple folk—” + </p> + <p> + “Simple folk?” she interrupted, gasping. “By God, am I married to a + ploughman? Am I Vicomtesse of Lavedan, or the wife of a boor of the + countryside? And is the honour of your daughter a matter—” + </p> + <p> + “The honour of my daughter is not in question, madame,” he interrupted in + his turn, and with a sudden sternness that spent the fire of her + indignation as a spark that is trampled underfoot. Then, in a calm, level + voice: “Ah, here are the servants,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Permit them, madame, to take charge of Monsieur de Saint-Eustache. + Anatole, you had better order the carriage for Monsieur le Chevalier. I do + not think that he will be able to ride home.” + </p> + <p> + Anatole peered at the pale young gentleman on the ground, then he turned + his little wizened face upon me, and grinned in a singularly solemn + fashion. Monsieur de Saint-Eustache was little loved, it seemed. + </p> + <p> + Leaning heavily upon the arm of one of the lacqueys, the Chevalier moved + painfully towards the courtyard, where the carriage was being prepared for + him. At the last moment he turned and beckoned the Vicomte to his side. + </p> + <p> + “As God lives, Monsieur de Lavedan,” he swore, breathing heavily in the + fury that beset him, “you shall bitterly regret having taken sides to-day + with that Gascon bully. Remember me, both of you, when you are journeying + to Toulouse.” + </p> + <p> + The Vicomte stood beside him, impassive and unmoved by that grim threat, + for all that to him it must have sounded like a death-sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, monsieur—a speedy recovery,” was all he answered. + </p> + <p> + But I stepped up to them. “Do you not think, Vicomte, that it were better + to detain him?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” he ejaculated. “Let him go.” + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier's eyes met mine in a look of terror. Perhaps already that + young man repented him of his menace, and he realized the folly of + threatening one in whose power he still chanced to be. + </p> + <p> + “Bethink you, monsieur,” I cried. “Yours is a noble and useful life. Mine + is not without value, either. Shall we suffer these lives—aye, and + the happiness of your wife and daughter—to be destroyed by this + vermin?” + </p> + <p> + “Let him go, monsieur; let him go. I am not afraid.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed and stepped back, motioning to the lacquey to take the fellow + away, much as I should have motioned him to remove some uncleanness from + before me. + </p> + <p> + The Vicomtesse withdrew in high dudgeon to her chamber, and I did not see + her again that evening. Mademoiselle I saw once, for a moment, and she + employed that moment to question me touching the origin of my quarrel with + Saint-Eustache. + </p> + <p> + “Did he really lie, Monsieur de Lesperon?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my honour, mademoiselle,” I answered solemnly, “I have plighted my + troth to no living woman.” Then my chin sank to my breast as I bethought + me of how tomorrow she must opine me the vilest liar living—for I + was resolved to be gone before Marsac arrived—since the real + Lesperon I did not doubt was, indeed, betrothed to Mademoiselle de Marsac. + </p> + <p> + “I shall leave Lavedan betimes to-morrow, mademoiselle,” I pursued + presently. “What has happened to-day makes my departure all the more + urgent. Delay may have its dangers. You will hear strange things of me, as + already I have warned you. But be merciful. Much will be true, much false; + yet the truth itself is very vile, and—” I stopped short, in despair + of explaining or even tempering what had to come. I shrugged my shoulders + in my abandonment of hope, and I turned towards the window. She crossed + the room and came to stand beside me. + </p> + <p> + “Will you not tell me? Have you no faith in me? Ah, Monsieur de Lesperon—” + </p> + <p> + “'Sh! child, I cannot. It is too late to tell you now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not too late! From what you say they will tell me, I should think, + perhaps, worse of you than you deserve. What is this thing you hide? What + is this mystery? Tell me, monsieur. Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + Did ever woman more plainly tell a man she loved him, and that loving him + she would find all excuses for him? Was ever woman in better case to hear + a confession from the man that loved her, and of whose love she was + assured by every instinct that her sex possesses in such matters? Those + two questions leapt into my mind, and in resolving them I all but + determined to speak even now in the eleventh hour. + </p> + <p> + And then—I know not how—a fresh barrier seemed to arise. It + was not merely a matter of telling her of the wager I was embarked upon; + not merely a matter of telling her of the duplicity that I had practised, + of the impostures by which I had gained admittance to her father's + confidence and trust; not merely a matter of confessing that I was not + Lesperon. There would still be the necessity of saying who I was. Even if + she forgave all else, could she forgive me for being Bardelys the + notorious Bardelys, the libertine, the rake, some of whose exploits she + had heard of from her mother, painted a hundred times blacker than they + really were? Might she not shrink from me when I told her I was that man? + In her pure innocence she deemed, no doubt, that the life of every man who + accounted himself a gentleman was moderately clean. She would not see in + me—as did her mother—no more than a type of the best class in + France, and having no more than the vices of my order. As a monster of + profligacy might she behold me, and that—ah, Dieu!—I could not + endure that she should do whilst I was by. + </p> + <p> + It may be—indeed, now, as I look back, I know that I exaggerated my + case. I imagined she would see it as I saw it then. For would you credit + it? With this great love that was now come to me, it seemed the ideals of + my boyhood were returned, and I abhorred the man that I had been. The life + I had led now filled me with disgust and loathing; the notions I had + formed seemed to me now all vicious and distorted, my cynicism shallow and + unjust. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Lesperon,” she called softly to me, noting my silence. + </p> + <p> + I turned to her. I set my hand lightly upon her arm; I let my gaze + encounter the upward glance of her eyes—blue as forget-me-nots. + </p> + <p> + “You suffer!” she murmured, with sweet compassion. + </p> + <p> + “Worse, Roxalanne! I have sown in your heart too the seed of suffering. + Oh, I am too unworthy!” I cried out; “and when you come to discover how + unworthy it will hurt you; it will sting your pride to think how kind you + were to me.” She smiled incredulously, in denial of my words. “No, child; + I cannot tell you.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed, and then before more could be said there was a sound at the + door, and we started away from each other. The Vicomte entered, and my + last chance of confessing, of perhaps averting much of what followed, was + lost to me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. THE PORTRAIT + </h2> + <p> + Into the mind of every thoughtful man must come at times with bitterness + the reflection of how utterly we are at the mercy of Fate, the victims of + her every whim and caprice. We may set out with the loftiest, the sternest + resolutions to steer our lives along a well-considered course, yet the + slightest of fortuitous circumstances will suffice to force us into a + direction that we had no thought of taking. + </p> + <p> + Now, had it pleased Monsieur de Marsac to have come to Lavedan at any + reasonable hour of the day, I should have been already upon the road to + Paris, intent to own defeat and pay my wager. A night of thought, besides + strengthening my determination to follow such a course, had brought the + reflection that I might thereafter return to Roxalanne, a poor man, it is + true, but one at least whose intentions might not be misconstrued. + </p> + <p> + And so, when at last I sank into sleep, my mind was happier than it had + been for many days. Of Roxalanne's love I was assured, and it seemed that + I might win her, after all, once I removed the barrier of shame that now + deterred me. It may be that those thoughts kept me awake until a late + hour, and that to this I owe it that when on the morrow I awakened the + morning was well advanced. The sun was flooding my chamber, and at my + bedside stood Anatole. + </p> + <p> + “What's o'clock?” I inquired, sitting bolt upright. + </p> + <p> + “Past ten,” said he, with stern disapproval. + </p> + <p> + “And you have let me sleep?” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “We do little else at Lavedan even when we are awake,” he grumbled. “There + was no reason why monsieur should rise.” Then, holding out a paper, + “Monsieur Stanislas de Marsac was here betimes this morning with + Mademoiselle his sister. He left this letter for you, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Amaze and apprehension were quickly followed by relief, since Anatole's + words suggested that Marsac had not remained. I took the letter, + nevertheless, with some misgivings, and whilst I turned it over in my + hands I questioned the old servant. + </p> + <p> + “He stayed an hour at the chateau, monsieur,” Anatole informed me. + “Monsieur le Vicomte would have had you roused, but he would not hear of + it. 'If what Monsieur de Saint-Eustache has told me touching your guest + should prove to be true,' said he, 'I would prefer not to meet him under + your roof, monsieur.' 'Monsieur de Saint-Eustache,' my master replied, 'is + not a person whose word should have weight with any man of honour.' But in + spite of that, Monsieur de Marsac held to his resolve, and although he + would offer no explanation in answer to my master's many questions, you + were not aroused. + </p> + <p> + “At the end of a half-hour his sister entered with Mademoiselle. They had + been walking together on the terrace, and Mademoiselle de Marsac appeared + very angry. 'Affairs are exactly as Monsieur de Saint-Eustache has + represented them,' said she to her brother. At that he swore a most + villainous oath, and called for writing materials. At the moment of his + departure he desired me to deliver this letter to you, and then rode away + in a fury, and, seemingly, not on the best of terms with Monsieur le + Vicomte.” + </p> + <p> + “And his sister?” I asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “She went with him. A fine pair, as I live!” he added, casting his eyes to + the ceiling. + </p> + <p> + At least I could breathe freely. They were gone, and whatever damage they + may have done to the character of poor Rene de Lesperon ere they departed, + they were not there, at all events, to denounce me for an impostor. With a + mental apology to the shade of the departed Lesperon for all the discredit + I was bringing down upon his name, I broke the seal of that momentous + epistle, which enclosed a length of some thirty-two inches of string. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur [I read], wherever I may chance to meet you it shall be my duty + to kill you. + </p> + <p> + A rich beginning, in all faith! If he could but maintain that + uncompromising dramatic flavour to the end, his epistle should be worth + the trouble of deciphering, for he penned a vile scrawl of pothooks. + </p> + <p> + It is because of this [the letter proceeded] that I have refrained from + coming face to face with you this morning. The times are too troublous and + the province is in too dangerous a condition to admit of an act that might + draw the eyes of the Keeper of the Seals upon Lavedan. To my respect, + then, to Monsieur le Vicomte and to my own devotion to the Cause we + mutually serve do you owe it that you still live. I am on my way to Spain + to seek shelter there from the King's vengeance. + </p> + <p> + To save myself is a duty that I owe as much to myself as to the Cause. But + there is another duty, one that I owe my sister, whom you have so + outrageously slighted, and this duty, by God's grace, I will perform + before I leave. Of your honour, monsieur, we will not speak, for reasons + into which I need not enter, and I make no appeal to it. But if you have a + spark of manhood left, if you are not an utter craven as well as a knave, + I shall expect you on the day after tomorrow, at any hour before noon, at + the Auberge de la Couronne at Grenade. There, monsieur, if you please, we + will adjust our differences. That you may come prepared, and so that no + time need be wasted when we meet, I send you the length of my sword. + </p> + <p> + Thus ended that angry, fire-breathing epistle. I refolded it thoughtfully, + then, having taken my resolve, I leapt from the bed and desired Anatole to + assist me to dress. + </p> + <p> + I found the Vicomte much exercised in mind as to the meaning of Marsac's + extraordinary behaviour, and I was relieved to see that he, at least, + could conjecture no cause for it. In reply to the questions with which he + very naturally assailed me, I assured him that it was no more than a + matter of a misunderstanding; that Monsieur de Marsac had asked me to meet + him at Grenade in two days' time, and that I should then, no doubt, be + able to make all clear. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, I regretted the incident, since it necessitated my remaining + and encroaching for two days longer upon the Vicomte's hospitality. To all + this, however, he made the reply that I expected, concluding with the + remark that for the present at least it would seem as if the Chevalier de + Saint-Eustache had been satisfied with creating this trouble betwixt + myself and Marsac. + </p> + <p> + From what Anatole had said, I had already concluded that Marsac had + exercised the greatest reticence. But the interview between his sister and + Roxalanne filled me with the gravest anxiety. Women are not wont to + practise the restraint of men under such circumstances, and for all that + Mademoiselle de Marsac may not have expressed it in so many words that I + was her faithless lover, yet women are quick to detect and interpret the + signs of disorders springing from such causes, and I had every fear that + Roxalanne was come to the conclusion that I had lied to her yesternight. + With an uneasy spirit, then, I went in quest of her, and I found her + walking in the old rose garden behind the chateau. + </p> + <p> + She did not at first remark my approach, and I had leisure for some + moments to observe her and to note the sadness that dwelt in her profile + and the listlessness of her movements. This, then, was my work—mine, + and that of Monsieur de Chatellerault, and those other merry gentlemen who + had sat at my table in Paris nigh upon a month ago. + </p> + <p> + I moved, and the gravel crunched under my foot, whereupon she turned, and, + at sight of me advancing towards her, she started. The blood mounted to + her face, to ebb again upon the instant, leaving it paler than it had + been. She made as if to depart; then she appeared to check herself, and + stood immovable and outwardly calm, awaiting my approach. + </p> + <p> + But her eyes were averted, and her bosom rose and fell too swiftly to lend + colour to that mask of indifference she hurriedly put on. Yet, as I drew + nigh, she was the first to speak, and the triviality of her words came as + a shock to me, and for all my knowledge of woman's way caused me to doubt + for a moment whether perhaps her calm were not real, after all. + </p> + <p> + “You are a laggard this morning, Monsieur de Lesperon.” And, with a half + laugh, she turned aside to break a rose from its stem. + </p> + <p> + “True,” I answered stupidly; “I slept over-late.” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand pities, since thus you missed seeing Mademoiselle de Marsac. + Have they told you that she was here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle. Stanislas de Marsac left a letter for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You will regret not having seen them, no doubt?” quoth she. + </p> + <p> + I evaded the interrogative note in her voice. “That is their fault. They + appear to have preferred to avoid me.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it matter for wonder?” she flashed, with a sudden gleam of fury which + she as suddenly controlled. With the old indifference, she added, “You do + not seem perturbed, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, mademoiselle; I am very deeply perturbed.” + </p> + <p> + “At not having seen your betrothed?” she asked, and now for the first time + her eyes were raised, and they met mine with a look that was a stab. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, I had the honour of telling you yesterday that I had + plighted my troth to no living woman.” + </p> + <p> + At that reminder of yesterday she winced, and I was sorry that I had + uttered it, for it must have set the wound in her pride a-bleeding again. + Yesterday I had as much as told her that I loved her, and yesterday she + had as much as answered me that she loved me, for yesterday I had sworn + that Saint-Eustache's story of my betrothal was a lie. To-day she had had + assurance of the truth from the very woman to whom Lesperon's faith was + plighted, and I could imagine something of her shame. + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday, monsieur,” she answered contemptuously, “you lied in many + things.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I spoke the truth in all. Oh, God in heaven, mademoiselle,” I + exclaimed in sudden passion, “will you not believe me? Will you not accept + my word for what I say, and have a little patience until I shall have + discharged such obligations as will permit me to explain?” + </p> + <p> + “Explain?” quoth she, with withering disdain. + </p> + <p> + “There is a hideous misunderstanding in all this. I am the victim of a + miserable chain of circumstances. Oh, I can say no more! These Marsacs I + shall easily pacify. I am to meet Monsieur de Marsac at Grenade on the day + after to-morrow. In my pocket I have a letter from this living + sword-blade, in which he tells me that he will give himself the pleasure + of killing me then. Yet—” + </p> + <p> + “I hope he does, monsieur!” she cut in, with a fierceness before which I + fell dumb and left my sentence unfinished. “I shall pray God that he may!” + she added. “You deserve it as no man deserved it yet!” + </p> + <p> + For a moment I stood stricken, indeed, by her words. Then, my reason + grasping the motive of that fierceness, a sudden joy pervaded me. It was a + fierceness breathing that hatred that is a part of love, than which, it is + true, no hatred can be more deadly. And yet so eloquently did it tell me + of those very feelings which she sought jealously to conceal, that, moved + by a sudden impulse, I stepped close up to her. + </p> + <p> + “Roxalanne,” I said fervently, “you do not hope for it. What would your + life be if I were dead? Child, child, you love me even as I love you.” I + caught her suddenly to me with infinite tenderness, with reverence almost. + “Can you lend no ear to the voice of this love? Can you not have faith in + me a little? Can you not think that if I were quite as unworthy as you + make-believe to your very self, this love could have no place?” + </p> + <p> + “It has no place!” she cried. “You lie—as in all things else. I do + not love you. I hate you. Dieu! How I hate you!” + </p> + <p> + She had lain in my arms until then, with upturned face and piteous, + frightened eyes—like a bird that feels itself within the toils of a + snake, yet whose horror is blent with a certain fascination. Now, as she + spoke, her will seemed to reassert itself, and she struggled to break from + me. But as her fierceness of hatred grew, so did my fierceness of resolve + gain strength, and I held her tightly. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you hate me?” I asked steadily. “Ask yourself, Roxalanne, and tell + me what answer your heart makes. Does it not answer that indeed you do not + hate me—that you love me?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God, to be so insulted!” she cried out. “Will you not release me, + miserable? Must I call for help? Oh, you shall suffer for this! As there + is a Heaven, you shall be punished!” + </p> + <p> + But in my passion I held her, despite entreaties, threats, and struggles. + I was brutal, if you will. Yet think of what was in my soul at being so + misjudged, at finding myself in this position, and deal not over harshly + with me. The courage to confess which I had lacked for days, came to me + then. I must tell her. Let the result be what it might, it could not be + worse than this, and this I could endure no longer. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Roxalanne!” + </p> + <p> + “I will not listen! Enough of insults have I heard already. Let me go!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, but you shall hear me. I am not Rene de Lesperon. Had these Marsacs + been less impetuous and foolish, had they waited to have seen me this + morning, they would have told you so.” + </p> + <p> + She paused for a second in her struggles to regard me. Then, with a sudden + contemptuous laugh, she renewed her efforts more vigorously than before. + </p> + <p> + “What fresh lies do you offer me? Release me, I will hear no more!” + </p> + <p> + “As Heaven is my witness, I have told you the truth. I know how wild a + sound it has, and that is partly why I did not tell you earlier. But your + disdain I cannot suffer. That you should deem me a liar in professing to + love you—” + </p> + <p> + Her struggles were grown so frantic that I was forced to relax my grip. + But this I did with a suddenness that threw her out of balance, and she + was in danger of falling backwards. To save herself, she caught at my + doublet, which was torn open under the strain. + </p> + <p> + We stood some few feet apart, and, white and palpitating in her anger, she + confronted me. Her eyes lashed me with their scorn, but under my steady, + unflinching gaze they fell at last. When next she raised them there was a + smile of quiet but unutterable contempt upon her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Will you swear,” said she, “that you are not Rene de Lesperon? That + Mademoiselle de Marsac is not your betrothed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—by my every hope of Heaven!” I cried passionately. + </p> + <p> + She continued to survey me with that quiet smile of mocking scorn. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard it said,” quoth she, “that the greatest liars are ever those + that are readiest to take oath.” Then, with a sudden gasp of loathing, “I + think you have dropped something, monsieur,” said she, pointing to the + ground. And without waiting for more, she swung round and left me. + </p> + <p> + Face upwards at my feet lay the miniature that poor Lesperon had entrusted + to me in his dying moments. It had dropped from my doublet in the + struggle, and I never doubted now but that the picture it contained was + that of Mademoiselle de Marsac. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. A NIGHT ALARM + </h2> + <p> + I was returning that same afternoon from a long walk that I had taken—for + my mood was of that unenviable sort that impels a man to be moving—when + I found a travelling-chaise drawn up in the quadrangle as if ready for a + journey. As I mounted the steps of the chateau I came face to face with + mademoiselle, descending. I drew aside that she might pass; and this she + did with her chin in the air, and her petticoat drawn to her that it might + not touch me. + </p> + <p> + I would have spoken to her, but her eyes looked straight before her with a + glance that was too forbidding; besides which there was the gaze of a + half-dozen grooms upon us. So, bowing before her—the plume of my + doffed hat sweeping the ground—I let her go. Yet I remained standing + where she had passed me, and watched her enter the coach. I looked after + the vehicle as it wheeled round and rattled out over the drawbridge, to + raise a cloud of dust on the white, dry road beyond. + </p> + <p> + In that hour I experienced a sense of desolation and a pain to which I + find it difficult to give expression. It seemed to me as if she had gone + out of my life for all time—as if no reparation that I could ever + make would suffice to win her back after what had passed between us that + morning. Already wounded in her pride by what Mademoiselle de Marsac had + told her of our relations, my behaviour in the rose garden had completed + the work of turning into hatred the tender feelings that but yesterday she + had all but confessed for me. That she hated me now, I was well assured. + My reflections as I walked had borne it in upon me how rash, how mad had + been my desperate action, and with bitterness I realized that I had + destroyed the last chance of ever mending matters. + </p> + <p> + Not even the payment of my wager and my return in my true character could + avail me now. The payment of my wager, forsooth! Even that lost what + virtue it might have contained. Where was the heroism of such an act? Had + I not failed, indeed? And was not, therefore, the payment of my wager + become inevitable? + </p> + <p> + Fool! fool! Why had I not profited that gentle mood of hers when we had + drifted down the stream together? Why had I not told her then of the whole + business from its ugly inception down to the pass to which things were + come, adding that to repair the evil I was going back to Paris to pay my + wager, and that when that was done, I would return to ask her to become my + wife? That was the course a man of sense would have adopted. He would have + seen the dangers that beset him in my false position, and would have been + quick to have forestalled them in the only manner possible. + </p> + <p> + Heigh-ho! It was done. The game was at an end, and I had bungled my part + of it like any fool. One task remained me—that of meeting Marsac at + Grenade and doing justice to the memory of poor Lesperon. What might + betide thereafter mattered little. I should be ruined when I had settled + with Chatellerault, and Marcel de Saint-Pol, de Bardelys, that brilliant + star in the firmament of the Court of France, would suffer an abrupt + eclipse, would be quenched for all time. But this weighed little with me + then. I had lost everything that I might have valued—everything that + might have brought fresh zest to a jaded, satiated life. + </p> + <p> + Later that day I was told by the Vicomte that there was a rumour current + to the effect that the Marquis de Bardelys was dead. Idly I inquired how + the rumour had been spread, and he told me that a riderless horse, which + had been captured a few days ago by some peasants, had been recognized by + Monsieur de Bardelys's servants as belonging to their master, and that as + nothing had been seen or heard of him for a fortnight, it was believed + that he must have met with some mischance. Not even that piece of + information served to arouse my interest. Let them believe me dead if they + would. To him that is suffering worse than death to be accounted dead is a + small matter. + </p> + <p> + The next day passed without incident. Mademoiselle's absence continued and + I would have questioned the Vicomte concerning it, but a not unnatural + hesitancy beset me, and I refrained. + </p> + <p> + On the morrow I was to leave Lavedan, but there were no preparations to be + made, no packing to be done, for during my sojourn there I had been + indebted to the generous hospitality of the Vicomte for my very apparel. + We supped quietly together that night the Vicomte and I—for the + Vicomtesse was keeping her room. + </p> + <p> + I withdrew early to my chamber, and long I lay awake, revolving a gloomy + future in my mind. I had given no thought to what I should do after having + offered my explanation to Monsieur de Marsac on the morrow, nor could I + now bring myself to consider it with any degree of interest. I would + communicate with Chatellerault to inform him that I accounted my wager + lost. I would send him my note of hand, making over to him my Picardy + estates, and I would request him to pay off and disband my servants both + in Paris and at Bardelys. + </p> + <p> + As for myself, I did not know, and, as I have hinted, I cared but little, + in what places my future life might lie. I had still a little property by + Beaugency, but scant inclination to withdraw to it. To Paris I would not + return; that much I was determined upon; but upon no more. I had thoughts + of going to Spain. Yet that course seemed no less futile than any other of + which I could bethink me. I fell asleep at last, vowing that it would be a + mercy and a fine solution to the puzzle of how to dispose of the future if + I were to awaken no more. + </p> + <p> + I was, however, destined to be roused again just as the veil of night was + being lifted and the chill breath of dawn was upon the world. There was a + loud knocking at the gates of Lavedan, confused noises of voices, of + pattering feet, of doors opening and closing within the chateau. + </p> + <p> + There was a rapping at my chamber door, and when I went to open, I found + the Vicomte on the threshold, nightcapped, in his shirt, and bearing a + lighted taper. + </p> + <p> + “There are troopers at the gate!” he exclaimed as he entered the room. + “That dog Saint-Eustache has already been at work!” + </p> + <p> + For all the agitation that must have been besetting him, his manner was + serene as ever. “What are we to do?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You are admitting them—naturally?” said I, inquiry in my voice. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes”; and he shrugged his shoulders. “What could it avail us to + resist them? Even had I been prepared for it, it would be futile to + attempt to suffer a siege.” + </p> + <p> + I wrapped a dressing-gown about me, for the morning air was chill. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Vicomte,” said I gravely, “I heartily deplore that Monsieur + de Marsac's affairs should have detained me here. But for him, I had left + Lavedan two days ago. As it is, I tremble for you, but we may at least + hope that my being taken in your house will draw down no ill results upon + you. I shall never forgive myself if through my having taken refuge here I + should have encompassed your destruction.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no question of that,” he replied, with the quick generosity + characteristic of the man. “This is the work of Saint-Eustache. Sooner or + later I always feared that it would happen, for sooner or later he and I + must have come to enmity over my daughter. That knave had me in his power. + He knew—being himself outwardly one of us—to what extent I was + involved in the late rebellion, and I knew enough of him to be assured + that if some day he should wish to do me ill, he would never scruple to + turn traitor. I am afraid, Monsieur de Lesperon, that it is not for you + alone—perhaps not for you at all—that the soldiers have come, + but for me.” + </p> + <p> + Then, before I could answer him, the door was flung wide, and into the + room, in nightcap and hastily donned robe—looking a very meagre in + that disfiguring deshabille—swept the Vicomtesse. + </p> + <p> + “See,” she cried to her husband, her strident voice raised in reproach—“see + to what a pass you have brought us!” + </p> + <p> + “Anne, Anne!” he exclaimed, approaching her and seeking to soothe her; “be + calm, my poor child, and be brave.” + </p> + <p> + But, evading him, she towered, lean and malevolent as a fury. + </p> + <p> + “Calm?” she echoed contemptuously. “Brave?” Then a short laugh broke from + her—a despairing, mocking, mirthless expression of anger. “By God, + do you add effrontery to your other failings? Dare you bid me be calm and + brave in such an hour? Have I been warning you fruitlessly these twelve + months past, that, after disregarding me and deriding my warnings, you + should bid me be calm now that my fears are realized?” + </p> + <p> + There was a sound of creaking gates below. The Vicomte heard it. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” he said, putting aside his erstwhile tender manner, and speaking + with a lofty dignity, “the troopers have been admitted. Let me entreat you + to retire. It is not befitting our station—” + </p> + <p> + “What is our station?” she interrupted harshly. “Rebels—proscribed, + houseless beggars. That is our station, thanks to you and your insane + meddling with treason. What is to become of us, fool? What is to become of + Roxalanne and me when they shall have hanged you and have driven us from + Lavedan? By God's death, a fine season this to talk of the dignity of our + station! Did I not warn you, malheureux, to leave party faction alone? You + laughed at me.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame, your memory does me an injustice,” he answered in a strangled + voice. “I never laughed at you in all my life.” + </p> + <p> + “You did as much, at least. Did you not bid me busy myself with women's + affairs? Did you not bid me leave you to follow your own judgment? You + have followed it—to a pretty purpose, as God lives! These gentlemen + of the King's will cause you to follow it a little farther,” she pursued, + with heartless, loathsome sarcasm. “You will follow it as far as the + scaffold at Toulouse. That, you will tell me, is your own affair. But what + provision have you made for your wife and daughter? Did you marry me and + get her to leave us to perish of starvation? Or are we to turn kitchen + wenches or sempstresses for our livelihood?” + </p> + <p> + With a groan, the Vicomte sank down upon the bed, and covered his face + with his hands. + </p> + <p> + “God pity me!” he cried, in a voice of agony—an agony such as the + fear of death could never have infused into his brave soul; an agony born + of the heartlessness of this woman who for twenty years had shared his bed + and board, and who now in the hour of his adversity failed him so cruelly—so + tragically. + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” she mocked in her bitterness, “call upon God to pity you, for I + shall not.” + </p> + <p> + She paced the room now, like a caged lioness, her face livid with the fury + that possessed her. She no longer asked questions; she no longer addressed + him; oath followed oath from her thin lips, and the hideousness of this + woman's blasphemy made me shudder. At last there were heavy steps upon the + stairs, and, moved by a sudden impulse “Madame,” I cried, “let me prevail + upon you to restrain yourself.” + </p> + <p> + She swung round to face me, her dose-set eyes ablaze with anger. + </p> + <p> + “Sangdieu! By what right do you—” she began but this was no time to + let a woman's tongue go babbling on; no time for ceremony; no season for + making a leg and addressing her with a simper. I caught her viciously by + the wrist, and with my face close up to hers “Folle!” I cried, and I'll + swear no man had ever used the word to her before. She gasped and choked + in her surprise and rage. Then lowering my voice lest it should reach the + approaching soldiers: “Would you ruin the Vicomte and yourself?” I + muttered. Her eyes asked me a question, and I answered it. “How do you + know that the soldiers have come for your husband? It may be that they are + seeking me—and only me. They may know nothing of the Vicomte's + defection. Shall you, then, be the one to inform them of it by your + unbridled rantings and your accusations?” + </p> + <p> + Her jaw fell open in astonishment. This was a side of the question she had + not considered. + </p> + <p> + “Let me prevail upon you, madame, to withdraw and to be of good courage. + It is more than likely that you alarm yourself without cause.” + </p> + <p> + She continued to stare at me in her amazement and the confusion that was + congenital with it, and if there was not time for her to withdraw, at + least the possibility I had suggested acted as a timely warning. + </p> + <p> + In that moment the door opened again, and on the threshold appeared a + young man in a plumed hat and corselet, carrying a naked sword in one hand + and a lanthorn in the other. Behind him I caught the gleam of steel from + the troopers at his heels. + </p> + <p> + “Which of you is Monsieur Rene de Lesperon?” he inquired politely, his + utterance flavoured by a strong Gascon accent. + </p> + <p> + I stood forward. “I am known by that name, Monsieur le Capitaine,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He looked at me wistfully, apologetically almost, then “In the King's + name, Monsieur de Lesperon, I call upon you to yield!” said he. + </p> + <p> + “I have been expecting you. My sword is yonder, monsieur,” I replied + suavely. “If you will allow me to dress, I shall be ready to accompany you + in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed, and it at once became clear that his business at Lavedan was—as + I had suggested to the Vicomtesse might be possible—with me alone. + </p> + <p> + “I am grateful for the readiness of your submission,” said this very + polite gentleman. He was a comely lad, with blue eyes and a good-humoured + mouth, to which a pair of bristling moustaches sought vainly to impart an + expression of ferocity. + </p> + <p> + “Before you proceed to dress, monsieur, I have another duty to discharge.” + </p> + <p> + “Discharge your duty, monsieur,” I answered. Whereupon he made a sign to + his men, and in a moment they were ransacking my garments and effects. + While this was taking place, he turned to the Vicomte and Vicomtesse, and + offered them a thousand apologies for having interrupted their slumbers, + and for so rudely depriving them of their guest. He advanced in his excuse + the troublous nature of the times, and threw in a bunch of malisons at the + circumstances which forced upon soldiers the odious duties of the + tipstaff, hoping that we would think him none the less a gentleman for the + unsavoury business upon which he was engaged. + </p> + <p> + From my clothes they took the letters addressed to Lesperon which that + poor gentleman had entrusted to me on the night of his death; and among + these there was one from the Duc d'Orleans himself, which would alone have + sufficed to have hanged a regiment. Besides these, they took Monsieur de + Marsac's letter of two days ago, and the locket containing the picture of + Mademoiselle de Marsac. + </p> + <p> + The papers and the portrait they delivered to the Captain, who took them + with the same air of deprecation tainted with disgust that coloured all + his actions in connection with my arrest. + </p> + <p> + To this same repugnance for his catchpoll work do I owe it that at the + moment of setting out he offered to let me ride without the annoyance of + an escort if I would pass him my parole not to attempt an escape. + </p> + <p> + We were standing, then, in the hall of the chateau. His men were already + in the courtyard, and there were only present Monsieur le Vicomte and + Anatole—the latter reflecting the look of sorrow that haunted his + master's face. The Captain's generosity was certainly leading him beyond + the bounds of his authority, and it touched me. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur is very generous,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Cap de Dieu!” he cried—he had a way of swearing that reminded me of + my friend Cazalet. “It is no generosity, monsieur. It is a desire to make + this obscene work more congenial to the spirit of a gentleman, which, + devil take me, I cannot stifle, not for the King himself. And then, + Monsieur de Lesperon, are we not fellow-countrymen? Are we not Gascons + both? Pardieu, there is no more respected a name in the whole of Gascony + than that of Lesperon, and that you belong to so honourable a family is + alone more than sufficient to warrant such slight favours as it may be in + my power to show you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have my parole that I will attempt no escape, Monsieur le Capitaine,” + I answered, bowing may acknowledgment of his compliments. + </p> + <p> + “I am Mironsac de Castelroux, of Chateau Rouge in Gascony,” he informed + me, returning my bow. My faith, had he not made a pretty soldier he would + have made an admirable master of deportment. + </p> + <p> + My leave-taking of Monsieur de Lavedan was brief but cordial; apologetic + on my part, intensely sympathetic on his. And so I went out alone with + Castelroux upon the road to Toulouse, his men being ordered to follow in + half an hour's time and to travel at their leisure. + </p> + <p> + As we cantered along—Castelroux and I—we talked of many + things, and I found him an amusing and agreeable companion. Had my mood + been other than despairing, the news he gave me might have occasioned me + some concern; for it seemed that prisoners arraigned for treason and + participation in the late rising were being very summarily treated. Many + were never so much as heard in their own defence, the evidence collected + of their defection being submitted to the Tribunal, and judgment being + forthwith passed upon them by judges who had no ears for anything they + might advance in their own favour. + </p> + <p> + The evidence of my identity was complete: there was my own admission to + Castelroux; the evidence of the treason of Lesperon was none the less + complete; in fact, it was notorious; and there was the Duke's letter found + amongst my effects. If the judges refused to lend an ear to my assurances + that I was not Lesperon at all, but the missing Bardelys, my troubles were + likely to receive a very summary solution. The fear of it, however, + weighed not over-heavily upon me. I was supremely indifferent. Life was at + an end so far as I was concerned. I had ruined the one chance of real + happiness that had ever been held out to me, and if the gentlemen of the + courts of Toulouse were pleased to send me unheeded to the scaffold, what + should it signify? + </p> + <p> + But there was another matter that did interest me, and that was my + interview with Marsac. Touching this, I spoke to my captor. + </p> + <p> + “There is a gentleman I wish to see at Grenade this morning. You have + amongst the papers taken from me a letter making this assignation, + Monsieur le Capitaine, and I should be indeed grateful if you would + determine that we shall break our fast there, so that I may have an + opportunity of seeing him. The matter is to me of the highest importance.” + </p> + <p> + “It concerns—?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “A lady,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! But the letter is of the nature of a challenge, is it not? + Naturally, I cannot permit you to endanger your life.” + </p> + <p> + “Lest we disappoint the headsman at Toulouse?” I laughed. “Have no fear. + There shall be no duel!” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am content, monsieur, and you shall see your friend.” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him, and we talked of other things thereafter as we rode in the + early morning along the Toulouse road. Our conversation found its way, I + scarce know how, to the topic of Paris and the Court, and when I casually + mentioned, in passing, that I was well acquainted with the Luxembourg, he + inquired whether I had ever chanced to meet a young spark of the name of + Mironsac. + </p> + <p> + “Mironsac?” I echoed. “Why, yes.” And I was on the point of adding that I + knew the youth intimately, and what a kindness I had for him, when, + deeming it imprudent, I contented myself with asking, “You know him?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu!” he swore. “The fellow is my cousin. We are both Mironsacs; he + is Mironsac of Castelvert, whilst I, as you may remember I told you, am + Mironsac of Castelroux. To distinguish us, he is always known as Mironsac, + and I as Castelroux. Peste! It is not the only distinction, for while he + basks in the sunshine of the great world of Paris—they are wealthy, + the Mironsacs of Castelvert—I, a poor devil of a Gascony cadet, am + playing the catchpoll in Languedoc!” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him with fresh interest, for the mention of that dear lad + Mironsac brought back to my mind the night in Paris on which my + ill-starred wager had been laid, and I was reminded of how that + high-minded youth had sought—when it was too late to reason me out + of the undertaking by alluding to the dishonour with which in his honest + eyes it must be fraught. + </p> + <p> + We spoke of his cousin—Castelroux and I—and I went so far now + as to confess that I had some love for the youth, whom I praised in + unmistakable terms. This inclined to increase the friendliness which my + young Captain had manifested since my arrest, and I was presently + emboldened by it to beg of him to add to the many favours that I already + owed him by returning to me the portrait which his men had subtracted from + my pocket. It was my wish to return this to Marsac, whilst at the same + time it would afford corroboration of my story. + </p> + <p> + To this Castelroux made no difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” said he, and he produced it. “I crave your pardon for not + having done the thing of my own accord. What can the Keeper of the Seals + want with that picture?” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him, and pocketed the locket. + </p> + <p> + “Poor lady!” he sighed, a note of compassion in his voice. “By my soul, + Monsieur de Lesperon, fine work this for soldiers, is it not? Diable! It + is enough to turn a gentleman's stomach sour for life, and make him go + hide himself from the eyes of honest men. Had I known that soldiering + meant such business, I had thought twice before I adopted it as a career + for a man of honour. I had remained in Gascony and tilled the earth sooner + than have lent myself to this!” + </p> + <p> + “My good young friend,” I laughed, “what you do, you do in the King's + name.” + </p> + <p> + “So does every tipstaff,” he answered impatiently, his moustaches + bristling as the result of the scornful twist he gave his lips. “To think + that I should have a hand in bringing tears to the eyes of that sweet + lady! Quelle besogne! Bon Dieu, quelle besogne!” + </p> + <p> + I laughed at the distress vented in that whimsical Gascon tongue of his, + whereupon he eyed me in a wonder that was tempered with admiration. For to + his brave soul a gentleman so stoical as to laugh under such parlous + circumstances was very properly a gentleman to be admired. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THE RISEN DEAD + </h2> + <p> + It was close upon ten o'clock as we rode into the yard of the imposing + Hotel de la Couronne at Grenade. + </p> + <p> + Castelroux engaged a private room on the first floor—a handsome + chamber overlooking the courtyard—and in answer to the inquiries + that I made I was informed by the landlord that Monsieur de Marsac was not + yet arrived. + </p> + <p> + “My assignation was 'before noon,' Monsieur de Castelroux,” said I. “With + your permission, I would wait until noon.” + </p> + <p> + He made no difficulty. Two hours were of no account. We had all risen very + early, and he was, himself, he said, entitled to some rest. + </p> + <p> + Whilst I stood by the window it came to pass than a very tall, + indifferently apparelled gentleman issued from the hostelry and halted for + some moments in conversation with the ostler below. He walked with an + enfeebled step, and leaned heavily for support upon a stout cane. As he + turned to reenter the inn I had a glimpse of a face woefully pale, about + which, as about the man's whole figure, there was a something that was + familiar—a something that puzzled me, and on which my mind was still + dwelling when presently I sat down to breakfast with Castelroux. + </p> + <p> + It may have been a half-hour later, and, our meal being at an end, we were + sitting talking—I growing impatient the while that this Monsieur de + Marsac should keep me waiting so—when of a sudden the rattle of + hoofs drew me once more to the window. A gentleman, riding very + recklessly, had just dashed through the porte-cochere, and was in the act + of pulling up his horse. He was a lean, active man, very richly dressed, + and with a face that by its swarthiness of skin and the sable hue of beard + and hair looked almost black. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you are there!” he cried, with something between a snarl and a laugh, + and addressing somebody within the shelter of the porch. “Par la mort + Dieu, I had hardly looked to find you!” + </p> + <p> + From the recess of the doorway I heard a gasp of amazement and a cry of + “Marsac! You here?” + </p> + <p> + So this was the gentleman I was to see! A stable boy had taken his reins, + and he leapt nimbly to the ground. Into my range of vision hobbled now the + enfeebled gentleman whom earlier I had noticed. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Stanislas!” he cried, “I cannot tell you how rejoiced I am to see + you!” and he approached Marsac with arms that were opened as if to embrace + him. + </p> + <p> + The newcomer surveyed him a moment in wonder, with eyes grown dull. Then + abruptly raising his hand, he struck the fellow on the breast, and thrust + him back so violently that but for the stable-boy's intervention he had of + a certainty fallen. With a look of startled amazement on his haggard face, + the invalid regarded his assailant. + </p> + <p> + As for Marsac, he stepped close up to him. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” he cried harshly. “What is this make-believe feebleness? + That you are pale, poltroon, I do not wonder! But why these tottering + limbs? Why this assumption of weakness? Do you look to trick me by these + signs?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you taken leave of your senses?” exclaimed the other, a note of + responsive anger sounding in his voice. “Have you gone mad, Stanislas?” + </p> + <p> + “Abandon this pretence,” was the contemptuous answer. “Two days ago at + Lavedan, my friend, they informed me how complete was your recovery; from + what they told us, it was easy to guess why you tarried there and left us + without news of you. That was my reason, as you may have surmised, for + writing to you. My sister has mourned you for dead—was mourning you + for dead whilst you sat at the feet of your Roxalanne and made love to her + among the roses of Lavedan.” + </p> + <p> + “Lavedan?” echoed the other slowly. Then, raising his voice, “what the + devil are you saying?” he blazed. “What do I know of Lavedan?” + </p> + <p> + In a flash it had come to me who that enfeebled gentleman was. Rodenard, + the blunderer, had been at fault when he had said that Lesperon had + expired. Clearly he could have no more than swooned; for here, in the + flesh, was Lesperon himself, the man I had left for dead in that barn by + Mirepoix. + </p> + <p> + How or where he had recovered were things that at the moment did not + exercise my mind—nor have I since been at any pains to unravel the + mystery of it; but there he was, and for the moment that fact was + all-sufficing. What complications would come of his presence Heaven alone + could foretell. + </p> + <p> + “Put an end to this play-acting!” roared the savage Marsac. “It will avail + you nothing. My sister's tears may have weighed lightly with you, but you + shall pay the price of them, and of the slight you have put upon her.” + </p> + <p> + “My God, Marsac!” cried the other, roused to an equal fierceness. “Will + you explain?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” snarled Marsac, and his sword flashed from his scabbard, “I'll + explain. As God lives, I'll explain—with this!” And he whirled his + blade under the eyes of the invalid. “Come, my master, the comedy's played + out. Cast aside that crutch and draw; draw, man, or, sangdieu, I'll run + you through as you stand!” + </p> + <p> + There was a commotion below. The landlord and a posse of his satellites—waiters, + ostlers, and stableboys—rushed between them, and sought to restrain + the bloodthirsty Marsac. But he shook them off as a bull shakes off a pack + of dogs, and like an angry bull, too, did he stand his ground and bellow. + In a moment his sweeping sword had cleared a circle about him. In its + lightning dartings hither and thither at random, it had stung a waiter in + the calf, and when the fellow saw the blood staining his hose, he added to + the general din his shrieks that he was murdered. Marsac swore and + threatened in a breath, and a kitchen wench, from a point of vantage on + the steps, called shame upon him and abused him roundly for a cowardly + assassin to assail a poor sufferer who could hardly stand upright. + </p> + <p> + “Po' Cap de Dieu!” swore Castelroux at my elbow. “Saw you ever such an + ado? What has chanced?” + </p> + <p> + But I never stayed to answer him. Unless I acted quickly blood would + assuredly be shed. I was the one man who could explain matters, and it was + a mercy for Lesperon that I should have been at hand in the hour of his + meeting that fire-eater Marsac. I forgot the circumstances in which I + stood to Castelroux; I forgot everything but the imminent necessity that I + should intervene. Some seven feet below our window was the roof of the + porch; from that to the ground it might be some eight feet more. Before my + Gascon captain knew what I was about, I had swung myself down from the + window on to the projecting porch. A second later, I created a diversion + by landing in the midst of the courtyard fray, with the alarmed Castelroux—who + imagined that I was escaping—following by the same unusual road, and + shouting as he came “Monsieur de Lesperon! Hi! Monsieur de Lesperon! + Mordieu! Remember your parole, Monsieur de Lesperon!” + </p> + <p> + Nothing could have been better calculated to stem Marsac's fury; nothing + could have so predisposed him to lend an ear to what I had to say, for it + was very evident that Castelroux's words were addressed to me, and that it + was I whom he called by the name of Lesperon. In an instant I was at + Marsac's side. But before I could utter a word, “What the devil does this + mean?” he asked, eyeing me with fierce suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “It means, monsieur, that there are more Lesperons than one in France. I + am the Lesperon who was at Lavedan. If you doubt me, ask this gentleman, + who arrested me there last night. Ask him, too, why we have halted here. + Ask him, if you will, to show you the letter that you left at Lavedan + making an assignation here before noon to-day, which letter I received.” + </p> + <p> + The suspicion faded from Marsac's eyes, and they grew round with wonder as + he listened to this prodigious array of evidence. Lesperon looked on in no + less amazement, yet I am sure from the manner of his glance that he did + not recognize in me the man that had succoured him at Mirepoix. That, + after all, was natural enough; for the minds of men in such reduced + conditions as had been his upon that night are not prone to receive very + clear impressions, and still less prone to retain such impressions as they + do receive. + </p> + <p> + Before Marsac could answer me, Castelroux was at my side. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand apologies!” he laughed. “A fool might have guessed the errand + that took you so quickly through that window, and none but a fool would + have suspected you of seeking to escape. It was unworthy in me, Monsieur + de Lesperon.” + </p> + <p> + I turned to him while those others still stood gaping, and led him aside. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Capitaine,” said I, “you find it troublesome enough to + reconcile your conscience with such arrests as you are charged to make, is + it not so. + </p> + <p> + “Mordieu!” he cried, by way of emphatically assenting. + </p> + <p> + “Now, if you should chance to overhear words betraying to you certain + people whom otherwise you would never suspect of being rebels, your + soldier's duty would, nevertheless, compel you to apprehend them, would it + not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, true. I am afraid it would,” he answered, with a grimace. + </p> + <p> + “But, if forewarned that by being present in a certain place you should + overhear such words, what course would you pursue?” + </p> + <p> + “Avoid it like a pestilence, monsieur,” he answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Then, Monsieur le Capitaine, may I trespass upon your generosity to + beseech you to let me take these litigants to our room upstairs, and to + leave us alone there for a half-hour?” + </p> + <p> + Frankness was my best friend in dealing with Castelroux—frankness + and his distaste for the business they had charged him with. As for Marsac + and Lesperon, they were both eager enough to have the mystery explained, + and when Castelroux having consented—I invited them to my chamber, + they came readily enough. + </p> + <p> + Since Monsieur de Lesperon did not recognize me, there was no reason why I + should enlighten him touching my identity, and every reason why I should + not. As soon as they were seated, I went to the heart of the matter at + once and without preamble. + </p> + <p> + “A fortnight ago, gentlemen,” said I, “I was driven by a pack of dragoons + across the Garonne. I was wounded in the shoulder and very exhausted, and + I knocked at the gates of Lavedan to crave shelter. That shelter, + gentlemen, was afforded me, and when I had announced myself as Monsieur de + Lesperon, it was all the more cordially because one Monsieur de Marsac, + who was a friend of the Vicomte de Lavedan, and a partisan in the lost + cause of Orleans, happened often to have spoken of a certain Monsieur de + Lesperon as his very dear friend. I have no doubt, gentlemen, that you + will think harshly of me because I did not enlighten the Vicomte. But + there were reasons for which I trust you will not press me, since I shall + find it difficult to answer you with truth.” + </p> + <p> + “But is your name Lesperon?” cried Lesperon. + </p> + <p> + “That, monsieur, is a small matter. Whether my name is Lesperon or not, I + confess to having practised a duplicity upon the Vicomte and his family, + since I am certainly not the Lesperon whose identity I accepted. But if I + accepted that identity, monsieur, I also accepted your liabilities, and so + I think that you should find it in your heart to extend me some measure of + forgiveness. As Rene de Lesperon, of Lesperon in Gascony, I was arrested + last night at Lavedan, and, as you may observe, I am being taken to + Toulouse to stand the charge of high treason. I have not demurred; I have + not denied in the hour of trouble the identity that served me in my hour + of need. I am taking the bitter with the sweet, and I assure you, + gentlemen, that the bitter predominates in a very marked degree.” + </p> + <p> + “But this must not be,” cried Lesperon, rising. “I know not what use you + may have made of my name, but I have no reason to think that you can have + brought discredit upon it, and so—” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, monsieur, but—” + </p> + <p> + “And so I cannot submit that you shall go to Toulouse in my stead. Where + is this officer whose prisoner you are? Pray summon him, monsieur, and let + us set the matter right.” + </p> + <p> + “This is very generous,” I answered calmly. “But I have crimes enough upon + my head, and so, if the worst should befall me, I am simply atoning in one + person for the errors of two.” + </p> + <p> + “But that is no concern of mine!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “It is so much your concern that if you commit so egregious a blunder as + to denounce yourself, you will have ruined yourself, without materially + benefitting me.” + </p> + <p> + He still objected, but in this strain I argued for some time, and to such + good purpose that in the end I made him realize that by betraying himself + he would not save me, but only join me on the journey to the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, gentlemen,” I pursued, “my case is far from hopeless. I have + every confidence that, as matters stand, by putting forth my hand at the + right moment, by announcing my identity at the proper season, I can, if I + am so inclined, save my neck from the headsman.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are so inclined?” they both cried, their looks charged with + inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “Let that be,” I answered; “it does not at present concern us. What I + desire you to understand, Monsieur de Lesperon, is that if I go to + Toulouse alone, when the time comes to proclaim myself, and it is found + that I am not Rene de Lesperon, of Lesperon in Gascony, they will assume + that you are dead, and there will be no count against me. + </p> + <p> + “But if you come with me, and thereby afford proof that you are alive, my + impersonation of you may cause me trouble. They may opine that I have been + an abettor of treason, that I have attempted to circumvent the ends of + justice, and that I may have impersonated you in order to render possible + your escape. For that, you may rest assured, they will punish me. + </p> + <p> + “You will see, therefore, that my own safety rests on your passing quietly + out of France and leaving the belief behind you that you are dead—a + belief that will quickly spread once I shall have cast off your identity. + You apprehend me?” + </p> + <p> + “Vaguely, monsieur; and perhaps you are right. What do you say, + Stanislas?” + </p> + <p> + “Say?” cried the fiery Marsac. “I am weighed down with shame, my poor + Rene, for having so misjudged you.” + </p> + <p> + More he would have said in the same strain, but Lesperon cut him short and + bade him attend to the issue now before him. They discussed it at some + length, but always under the cloud in which my mysteriousness enveloped + it, and, in the end, encouraged by my renewed assurances that I could best + save myself if Lesperon were not taken with me, the Gascon consented to my + proposals. + </p> + <p> + Marsac was on his way to Spain. His sister, he told us, awaited him at + Carcassonne. Lesperon should set out with him at once, and in forty-eight + hours they would be beyond the reach of the King's anger. + </p> + <p> + “I have a favour to ask of you, Monsieur de Marsac,” said I, rising; for + our business was at an end. “It is that if you should have an opportunity + of communicating with Mademoiselle de Lavedan, you will let her know that + I am not—not the Lesperon that is betrothed to your sister.” + </p> + <p> + “I will inform her of it, monsieur,” he answered readily; and then, of a + sudden, a look of understanding and of infinite pity came into his eyes. + “My God!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, monsieur?” I asked, staggered by that sudden outcry. + </p> + <p> + “Do not ask me, monsieur, do not ask me. I had forgotten for the moment, + in the excitement of all these revelations. But—” He stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to ponder a moment, then looking at me again with that same + compassionate glance, “You had better know,” said he. “And yet—it is + a difficult thing to tell you. I understand now much that I had not dreamt + of. You—you have no suspicion of how you came to be arrested?” + </p> + <p> + “For my alleged participation in the late rebellion?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. But who gave the information of your whereabouts? Who told the + Keeper of the Seals where you were to be found?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that?” I answered easily. “Why, I never doubted it. It was the + coxcomb Saint-Eustache. I whipped him—” + </p> + <p> + I stopped short. There was something in Marsac's black face, something in + his glance, that forced the unspoken truth upon my mind. + </p> + <p> + “Mother in heaven!” I cried. “Do you mean that it was Mademoiselle de + Lavedan?” + </p> + <p> + He bowed his head in silence. Did she hate me, then, so much as that? + Would nothing less than my death appease her, and had I utterly crushed + the love that for a little while she had borne me, that she could bring + herself to hand me over to the headsman? + </p> + <p> + God! What a stab was that! It turned me sick with grief—aye, and + with some rage not against her, oh, not against her; against the fates + that had brought such things to pass. + </p> + <p> + I controlled myself while their eyes were yet upon me. I went to the door + and held it open for them, and they, perceiving something of my disorder, + were courteous enough to omit the protracted leave-takings that under + other auspices there might have been. Marsac paused a moment on the + threshold as if he would have offered me some word of comfort. Then, + perceiving, perhaps, how banal must be all comfort that was of words + alone, and how it might but increase the anger of the wound it was meant + to balm, he sighed a simple “Adieu, monsieur!” and went his way. + </p> + <p> + When they were gone, I returned to the table, and, sitting down, I buried + my head in my arms, and there I lay, a prey to the most poignant grief + that in all my easy, fortunate life I had ever known. That she should have + done this thing! That the woman I loved, the pure, sweet, innocent girl + that I had wooed so ardently in my unworthiness at Lavedan, should have + stooped to such an act of betrayal! To what had I not reduced her, since + such things could be! + </p> + <p> + Then, out of my despair grew comfort, slowly at first, and more vigorously + anon. The sudden shock of the news had robbed me of some of my wit, and + had warped my reasoning. Later, as the pain of the blow grew duller, I + came to reflect that what she had done was but a proof—an + overwhelming proof—of how deeply she had cared. Such hatred as this + can be but born of a great love; reaction is ever to be measured by the + action that occasions it, and a great revulsion can only come of a great + affection. Had she been indifferent to me, or had she but entertained for + me a passing liking, she would not have suffered so. + </p> + <p> + And so I came to realize how cruel must have been the pang that had driven + her to this. But she had loved me; aye, and she loved me still, for all + that she thought she hated, and for all that she had acted as if she + hated. But even if I were wrong—even if she did hate me—what a + fresh revulsion would not be hers when anon she learnt that—whatever + my sins—I had not played lightly with her love; that I was not, as + she had imagined, the betrothed of another woman! + </p> + <p> + The thought fired me like wine. I was no longer listless—no longer + indifferent as to whether I lived or died. I must live. I must enlighten + the Keeper of the Seals and the judges at Toulouse concerning my identity. + Why, indeed, had I ever wavered? Bardelys the Magnificent must come to + life again, and then—What then? + </p> + <p> + As suddenly as I had been exalted was I cast down. There was a rumour + abroad that Bardelys was dead. In the wake of that rumour I shrewdly + guessed that the report of the wager that had brought him into Languedoc + would not be slow to follow. What then? Would she love me any the better? + Would she hate me any the less? If now she was wounded by the belief that + I had made sport of her love, would not that same belief be with her again + when she came to know the truth? + </p> + <p> + Aye, the tangle was a grievous one. Yet I took heart. My old resolve + returned to me, and I saw the need for urgency—in that alone could + lie now my redemption in her eyes. My wager must be paid before I again + repaired to her, for all that it should leave me poor indeed. In the mean + while, I prayed God that she might not hear of it ere I returned to tell + her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. THE KING'S COMMISSIONER + </h2> + <p> + For that most amiable of Gascon cadets, Monsieur de Castelroux, I have + naught but the highest praise. In his every dealing with me he revealed + himself so very gallant, generous, and high-minded a gentleman that it was + little short of a pleasure to be his prisoner. He made no inquiries + touching the nature of my interview with those two gentlemen at the Hotel + de la Couronne, and when at the moment of leaving I requested him to + deliver a packet to the taller of those same two he did so without comment + or question. That packet contained the portrait of Mademoiselle de Marsac, + but on the inner wrapper was a note requesting Lesperon not to open it + until he should be in Spain. + </p> + <p> + Neither Marsac nor Lesperon did I see again before we resumed our journey + to Toulouse. + </p> + <p> + At the moment of setting out a curious incident occurred. Castelroux's + company of dragoons had ridden into the courtyard as we were mounting. + They lined up under their lieutenant's command, to allow us to pass; but + as we reached the porte-cochere we were delayed for a moment by a + travelling-carriage, entering for relays, and coming, apparently, from + Toulouse. Castelroux and I backed our horses until we were in the midst of + the dragoons, and so we stood while the vehicle passed in. As it went by, + one of the leather curtains was drawn back, and my heart was quickened by + the sight of a pale girl face, with eyes of blue, and brown curls lying + upon the slender neck. Her glance lighted on me, swordless and in the + midst of that company of troopers, and I bowed low upon the withers of my + horse, doffing my hat in distant salutation. + </p> + <p> + The curtain dropped again, and eclipsed the face of the woman that had + betrayed me. With my mind full of wild surmisings as to what emotions + might have awakened in her upon beholding me, I rode away in silence at + Monsieur de Castelroux's side. Had she experienced any remorse? Any shame? + Whether or not such feelings had been aroused at sight of me, it certainly + would not be long ere she experienced them, for at the Hotel de la + Couronne were those who would enlighten her. + </p> + <p> + The contemplation of the remorseful grief that might anon beset her when + she came to ponder the truth of matters, and, with that truth, those + things that at Lavedan I had uttered, filled me presently with regret and + pity. I grew impatient to reach Toulouse and tell the judges of the + mistake that there had been. My name could not be unknown to them, and the + very mention of it, I thought, should suffice to give them pause and lead + them to make inquiries before sending me to the scaffold. Yet I was not + without uneasiness, for the summariness with which Castelroux had informed + me they were in the habit of dealing with those accused of high treason + occasioned me some apprehensive pangs. + </p> + <p> + This apprehension led me to converse with my captor touching those trials, + seeking to gather from him who were the judges. I learnt then that besides + the ordinary Tribunal, a Commissioner had been dispatched by His Majesty, + and was hourly expected to arrive at Toulouse. It would be his mission to + supervise and direct the inquiries that were taking place. It was said, he + added, that the King himself was on his way thither, to be present at the + trial of Monsieur le Duc de Montmorency. But he was travelling by easy + stages, and was not yet expected for some days. My heart, which had leapt + at the news, as suddenly sank again with the consideration that I should + probably be disposed of before the King's arrival. It would behoove me, + therefore, to look elsewhere for help and for some one to swear to my + identity. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the name of this King's Commissioner?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “It is a certain Comte de Chatellerault, a gentleman man said to stand + very high in His Majesty's favour.” + </p> + <p> + “Chatellerault!” I cried in wondering joy. + </p> + <p> + “You know him?” + </p> + <p> + “Most excellently!” I laughed. “We are very intimately acquainted.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, monsieur, I augur you this gentleman's friendship, and that it + may pilot you through your trouble. Although—” Being mercifully + minded, he stopped short. + </p> + <p> + But I laughed easily. “Indeed, my dear Captain, I think it will,” said I; + “although friendship in this world is a thing of which the unfortunate + know little.” + </p> + <p> + But I rejoiced too soon, as you shall hear. + </p> + <p> + We rode diligently on, our way lying along the fertile banks of the + Garonne, now yellow with the rustling corn. Towards evening we made our + last halt at Fenouillet, whence a couple of hours' riding should bring us + to Toulouse. + </p> + <p> + At the post-house we overtook a carriage that seemingly had halted for + relays, but upon which I scarce bestowed a glance as I alighted. + </p> + <p> + Whilst Castelroux went to arrange for fresh horses, I strode into the + common room, and there for some moments I stood discussing the viands with + our host. When at last I had resolved that a cold pasty and a bottle of + Armagnac would satisfy our wants, I looked about me to take survey of + those in the room. One group in a remote corner suddenly riveted my + attention to such a degree that I remained deaf to the voice of + Castelroux, who had just entered, and who stood now beside me. In the + centre of this group was the Comte de Chatellerault himself, a thick-set, + sombre figure, dressed with that funereal magnificence he affected. + </p> + <p> + But it was not the sight of him that filled me with amazement. For that, + Castelroux's information had prepared me, and I well understood in what + capacity he was there. My surprise sprang rather from the fact that + amongst the half-dozen gentlemen about him—and evidently in + attendance—I beheld the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache. Now, knowing as + I did, the Chevalier's treasonable leanings, there was ample cause for my + astonishment at finding him in such company. Apparently, too, he was on + very intimate terms with the Count, for in raising my glance I had caught + him in the act of leaning over to whisper familiarly in Chatellerault's + ear. + </p> + <p> + Their eyes—indeed, for that matter the eyes of the entire company—were + turned in my direction. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it was not a surprising thing that Chatellerault should gaze upon + me in that curious fashion, for was it not probable that he had heard that + I was dead? Besides, the fact that I was without a sword, and that at my + side stood a King's officer, afforded evidence enough of my condition, and + well might Chatellerault stare at beholding me so manifestly a prisoner. + </p> + <p> + Even as I watched him, he appeared to start at something that + Saint-Eustache was saying, and a curious change spread over his face. Its + whilom expression had been rather one of dismay; for, having believed me + dead, he no doubt accounted his wager won, whereas seeing me alive had + destroyed that pleasant conviction. But now it took on a look of relief + and of something that suggested malicious cunning. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said Castelroux in my ear, “is the King's commissioner.” + </p> + <p> + Did I not know it? I never waited to answer him, but, striding across the + room, I held out my hand over the table—to Chatellerault. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Comte,” I cried, “you are most choicely met.” + </p> + <p> + I would have added more, but there was something in his attitude that + silenced me. He had turned half from me, and stood now, hand on hip, his + great head thrown back and tilted towards his shoulder, his expression one + of freezing and disdainful wonder. + </p> + <p> + Now, if his attitude filled me with astonishment and apprehension, + consider how these feelings were heightened by his words. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Lesperon, I can but express amazement at your effrontery. If + we have been acquainted in the past, do you think that is a sufficient + reason for me to take your hand now that you have placed yourself in a + position which renders it impossible for His Majesty's loyal servants to + know you?” + </p> + <p> + I fell back a pace, my mind scarce grasping yet the depths of this + inexplicable attitude. + </p> + <p> + “This to me, Chatellerault?” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + “To you?” he blazed, stirred to a sudden passion. “What else did you + expect, Monsieur de Lesperon?” + </p> + <p> + I had it in me to give him the lie, to denounce him then for a low, + swindling trickster. I understood all at once the meaning of this wondrous + make-believe. From Saint-Eustache he had gathered the mistake there was, + and for his wager's sake he would let the error prevail, and hurry me to + the scaffold. What else might I have expected from the man that had lured + me into such a wager—a wager which the knowledge he possessed had + made him certain of winning? Would he who had cheated at the dealing of + the cards neglect an opportunity to cheat again during the progress of the + game? + </p> + <p> + As I have said, I had it in my mind to cry out that he lied—that I + was not Lesperon; that he knew I was Bardelys. But the futility of such an + outcry came to me simultaneously with the thought of it. And, I fear me, I + stood before him and his satellites—the mocking Saint-Eustache + amongst them—a very foolish figure. + </p> + <p> + “There is no more to be said,” I murmured at last. + </p> + <p> + “But there is!” he retorted. “There is much more to be said. You shall + render yet an account of your treason, and I am afraid, my poor rebel, + that your comely head will part company with your shapely body. You and I + will meet at Toulouse. What more is to be said will be said in the + Tribunal there.” + </p> + <p> + A chill encompassed me. I was doomed, it seemed. This man, ruling the + province pending the King's arrival, would see to it that none came + forward to recognize me. He would expedite the comedy of my trial, and + close it with the tragedy of my execution. My professions of a mistake of + identity—if I wasted breath upon them would be treated with disdain + and disregarded utterly. God! What a position had I got myself into, and + what a vein of comedy ran through it—grim, tragic comedy, if you + will, yet comedy to all faith. The very woman whom I had wagered to wed + had betrayed me into the hands of the very man with whom I laid my wager. + </p> + <p> + But there was more in it than that. As I had told Mironsac that night in + Paris, when the thing had been initiated, it was a duel that was being + fought betwixt Chatellerault and me—a duel for supremacy in the + King's good graces. We were rivals, and he desired my removal from the + Court. To this end had he lured me into a bargain that should result in my + financial ruin, thereby compelling me to withdraw from the costly life of + the Luxembourg, and leaving him supreme, the sole and uncontested + recipient of our master's favour. Now into his hand Fate had thrust a + stouter weapon and a deadlier: a weapon which not only should make him + master of the wealth that I had pledged, but one whereby he might remove + me for all time, a thousandfold more effectively than the mere + encompassing of my ruin would have done. + </p> + <p> + I was doomed. I realized it fully and very bitterly. + </p> + <p> + I was to go out of the ways of men unnoticed and unmourned; as a rebel, + under the obscure name of another and bearing another's sins upon my + shoulders, I was to pass almost unheeded to the gallows. Bardelys the + Magnificent—the Marquis Marcel Saint-Pol de Bardelys, whose + splendour had been a byword in France—was to go out like a guttering + candle. + </p> + <p> + The thought filled me with the awful frenzy that so often goes with + impotency, such a frenzy as the damned in hell may know. I forgot in that + hour my precept that under no conditions should a gentleman give way to + anger. In a blind access of fury I flung myself across the table and + caught that villainous cheat by the throat, before any there could put out + a hand to stop me. + </p> + <p> + He was a heavy man, if a short one, and the strength of his thick-set + frame was a thing abnormal. Yet at that moment such nervous power did I + gather from my rage, that I swung him from his feet as though he had been + the puniest weakling. I dragged him down on to the table, and there I + ground his face with a most excellent good-will and relish. + </p> + <p> + “You liar, you cheat, you thief!” I snarled like any cross-grained + mongrel. “The King shall hear of this, you knave! By God, he shall!” + </p> + <p> + They dragged me from him at last—those lapdogs that attended him—and + with much rough handling they sent me sprawling among the sawdust on the + floor. It is more than likely that but for Castelroux's intervention they + had made short work of me there and then. + </p> + <p> + But with a bunch of Mordieus, Sangdieus, and Po' Cap de Dieus, the little + Gascon flung himself before my prostrate figure, and bade them in the + King's name, and at their peril, to stand back. + </p> + <p> + Chatellerault, sorely shaken, his face purple, and with blood streaming + from his nostrils, had sunk into a chair. He rose now, and his first words + were incoherent, raging gasps. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, sir?” he bellowed at last, addressing the Captain. + </p> + <p> + “Amedee de Mironsac de Castelroux, of Chateau Rouge in Gascony,” answered + my captor, with a grand manner and a flourish, and added, “Your servant.” + </p> + <p> + “What authority have you to allow your prisoners this degree of freedom?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not need authority, monsieur,” replied the Gascon. + </p> + <p> + “Do you not?” blazed the Count. “We shall see. Wait until I am in + Toulouse, my malapert friend.” + </p> + <p> + Castelroux drew himself up, straight as a rapier, his face slightly + flushed and his glance angry, yet he had the presence of mind to restrain + himself, partly at least. + </p> + <p> + “I have my orders from the Keeper of the Seals, to effect the apprehension + of Monsieur de Lesperon; and to deliver him up, alive or dead, at + Toulouse. So that I do this, the manner of it is my own affair, and who + presumes to criticize my methods censoriously impugns my honour and + affronts me. And who affronts me, monsieur, be he whosoever he may be, + renders me satisfaction. I beg that you will bear that circumstance in + mind.” + </p> + <p> + His moustaches bristled as he spoke, and altogether his air was very + fierce and truculent. For a moment I trembled for him. But the Count + evidently thought better of it than to provoke a quarrel, particularly one + in which he would be manifestly in the wrong, King's Commissioner though + he might be. There was an exchange of questionable compliments betwixt the + officer and the Count, whereafter, to avoid further unpleasantness, + Castelroux conducted me to a private room, where we took our meal in + gloomy silence. + </p> + <p> + It was not until an hour later, when we were again in the saddle and upon + the last stage of our journey, that I offered Castelroux an explanation of + my seemingly mad attack upon Chatellerault. + </p> + <p> + “You have done a very rash and unwise thing, monsieur,” he had commented + regretfully, and it was in answer to this that I poured out the whole + story. I had determined upon this course while we were supping, for + Castelroux was now my only hope, and as we rode beneath the stars of that + September night I made known to him my true identity. + </p> + <p> + I told him that Chatellerault knew me, and I informed him that a wager lay + between us—withholding the particulars of its nature—which had + brought me into Languedoc and into the position wherein he had found and + arrested me. At first he hesitated to believe me, but when at last I had + convinced him by the vehemence of my assurances as much as by the + assurances themselves, he expressed such opinions of the Comte de + Chatellerault as made my heart go out to him. + </p> + <p> + “You see, my dear Castelroux, that you are now my last hope,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “A forlorn one, my poor gentleman!” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, that need not be. My intendant Rodenard and some twenty of my + servants should be somewhere betwixt this and Paris. Let them be sought + for monsieur, and let us pray God that they be still in Languedoc and may + be found in time.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall be done, monsieur, I promise you,” he answered me solemnly. “But + I implore you not to hope too much from it. Chatellerault has it in his + power to act promptly, and you may depend that he will waste no time after + what has passed.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, we may have two or three days, and in those days you must do what + you can, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “You may depend upon me,” he promised. + </p> + <p> + “And meanwhile, Castelroux,” said I, “you will say no word of this to any + one.” + </p> + <p> + That assurance also he gave me, and presently the lights of our + destination gleamed out to greet us. + </p> + <p> + That night I lay in a dank and gloomy cell of the prison of Toulouse, with + never a hope to bear company during those dark, wakeful hours. + </p> + <p> + A dull rage was in my soul as I thought of my position, for it had not + needed Castelroux's recommendation to restrain me from building false + hopes upon his chances of finding Rodenard and my followers in time to + save me. Some little ray of consolation I culled, perhaps, from my + thoughts of Roxalanne. Out of the gloom of my cell my fancy fashioned her + sweet girl face and stamped it with a look of gentle pity, of infinite + sorrow for me and for the hand she had had in bringing me to this. + </p> + <p> + That she loved me I was assured, and I swore that if I lived I would win + her yet, in spite of every obstacle that I myself had raised for my + undoing. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. THE TRIBUNAL OF TOULOUSE + </h2> + <p> + I had hoped to lie some days in prison before being brought to trial, and + that during those days Castelroux might have succeeded in discovering + those who could witness to my identity. Conceive, therefore, something of + my dismay when on the morrow I was summoned an hour before noon to go + present myself to my judges. + </p> + <p> + From the prison to the Palace I was taken in chains like any thief—for + the law demanded this indignity to be borne by one charged with the crimes + they imputed to me. The distance was but short, yet I found it over-long, + which is not wonderful considering that the people stopped to line up as I + went by and to cast upon me a shower of opprobrious derision—for + Toulouse was a very faithful and loyal city. It was within some two + hundred yards of the Palace steps that I suddenly beheld a face in the + crowd, at the sight of which I stood still in my amazement. This earned me + a stab in the back from the butt-end of the pike of one of my guards. + </p> + <p> + “What ails you now?” quoth the man irritably. “Forward, Monsieur le + traite!” + </p> + <p> + I moved on, scarce remarking the fellow's roughness; my eyes were still + upon that face—the white, piteous face of Roxalanne. I smiled + reassurance and encouragement, but even as I smiled the horror in her + countenance seemed to increase. Then, as I passed on, she vanished from my + sight, and I was left to conjecture the motives that had occasioned her + return to Toulouse. Had the message that Marsac would yesterday have + conveyed to her caused her to retrace her steps that she might be near me + in my extremity; or had some weightier reason influenced her return? Did + she hope to undo some of the evil she had done? Alas, poor child! If such + were her hopes, I sorely feared me they would prove very idle. + </p> + <p> + Of my trial I should say but little did not the exigencies of my story + render it necessary to say much. Even now, across the gap of years, my + gorge rises at the mockery which, in the King's name, those gentlemen made + of justice. I can allow for the troubled conditions of the times, and I + can realize how in cases of civil disturbances and rebellion it may be + expedient to deal summarily with traitors, yet not all the allowances that + I can think of would suffice to condone the methods of that tribunal. + </p> + <p> + The trial was conducted in private by the Keeper of the Seals—a + lean, wizened individual, with an air as musty and dry as that of the + parchments among which he had spent his days. He was supported by six + judges, and on his right sat the King's Commissioner, Monsieur de + Chatellerault—the bruised condition of whose countenance still + advertised the fact that we had met but yesterday. + </p> + <p> + Upon being asked my name and place of abode, I created some commotion by + answering boldly “I am the Sieur Marcel de Saint-Pol, Marquis of Bardelys, + of Bardelys in Picardy.” + </p> + <p> + The President—that is to say, the Keeper of the Seals—turned + inquiringly to Chatellerault. The Count, however, did no more than smile + and point to something written on a paper that lay spread upon the table. + The President nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Rene de Lesperon,” said he, “the Court may perhaps not be able + to discriminate whether this statement of yours is a deliberate attempt to + misguide or frustrate the ends of justice, or whether, either in + consequence of your wounds or as a visitation of God for your treason, you + are the victim of a deplorable hallucination. But the Court wishes you to + understand that it is satisfied of your identity. The papers found upon + your person at the time of your arrest, besides other evidence in our + power, remove all possibility of doubt in that connection. Therefore, in + your own interests, we implore you to abandon these false statements, if + so be that you are master of your wits. Your only hope of saving your head + must lie in your truthfully answering our questions, and even then, + Monsieur de Lesperon, the hope that we hold out to you is so slight as to + be no hope at all.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, during which the other judges nodded their heads in + sage approval of their President's words. For myself, I kept silent, + perceiving how little it could avail me to continue to protest, and + awaited his next question. + </p> + <p> + “You were arrested, monsieur, at the Chateau de Lavedan two nights ago by + a company of dragoons under the command of Captain de Castelroux. Is that + so?” + </p> + <p> + “It is so, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “And at the time of your arrest, upon being apprehended as Rene de + Lesperon, you offered no repudiation of the identity; on the contrary, + when Monsieur de Castelroux called for Monsieur de Lesperon, you stepped + forward and acknowledged that you were he.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, monsieur. What I acknowledged was that I was known by that name.” + </p> + <p> + The President chuckled evilly, and his satellites smiled in polite + reflection of his mood. + </p> + <p> + “This acute differentiating is peculiar, Monsieur de Lesperon, to persons + of unsound mental condition,” said he. “I am afraid that it will serve + little purpose. A man is generally known by his name, is he not?” I did + not answer him. “Shall we call Monsieur de Castelroux to confirm what I + have said?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not necessary. Since you allow that I may have said I was known by + the name, but refuse to recognize the distinction between that and a + statement that 'Lesperon' is my name, it would serve no purpose to summon + the Captain.” + </p> + <p> + The President nodded, and with that the point was dismissed, and he + proceeded as calmly as though there never had been any question of my + identity. + </p> + <p> + “You are charged, Monsieur de Lesperon, with high treason in its most + virulent and malignant form. You are accused of having borne arms against + His Majesty. Have you anything to say?” + </p> + <p> + “I have to say that it is false, monsieur; that His Majesty has no more + faithful or loving subject than am I.” + </p> + <p> + The President shrugged his shoulders, and a shade of annoyance crossed his + face. + </p> + <p> + “If you are come here for no other purpose than to deny the statements + that I make, I am afraid that we are but wasting time,” he cried testily. + “If you desire it, I can summon Monsieur de Castelroux to swear that at + the time of your arrest and upon being charged with the crime you made no + repudiation of that charge.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally not, monsieur,” I cried, somewhat heated by this seemingly + studied ignoring of important facts, “because I realized that it was + Monsieur de Castelroux's mission to arrest and not to judge me. Monsieur + de Castelroux was an officer, not a Tribunal, and to have denied this or + that to him would have been so much waste of breath.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Very nimble; very nimble, in truth, Monsieur de Lesperon, but + scarcely convincing. We will proceed. You are charged with having taken + part in several of the skirmishes against the armies of Marshals de + Schomberg and La Force, and finally, with having been in close attendance + upon Monsieur de Montmorency at the battle of Castelnaudary. What have you + to say?” + </p> + <p> + “That it is utterly untrue.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet your name, monsieur, is on a list found among the papers in the + captured baggage of Monsieur le Duc de Montmorency.” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur,” I denied stoutly, “it is not.” + </p> + <p> + The President smote the table a blow that scattered a flight of papers. + </p> + <p> + “Par la mort Dieu!” he roared, with a most indecent exhibition of temper + in one so placed. “I have had enough of your contradictions. You forget, + monsieur, your position—” + </p> + <p> + “At least,” I broke in harshly, “no less than you forget yours.” + </p> + <p> + The Keeper of the Seals gasped for breath at that, and his fellow judges + murmured angrily amongst themselves. Chatellerault maintained his sardonic + smile, but permitted himself to utter no word. + </p> + <p> + “I would, gentlemen,” I cried, addressing them all, “that His Majesty were + here to see how you conduct your trials and defile his Courts. As for you, + Monsieur le President, you violate the sanctity of your office in giving + way to anger; it is a thing unpardonable in a judge. I have told you in + plain terms, gentlemen, that I am not this Rene de Lesperon with whose + crimes you charge me. Yet, in spite of my denials, ignoring them, or + setting them down either to a futile attempt at defence or to an + hallucination of which you suppose me the victim, you proceed to lay those + crimes to my charge, and when I deny your charges you speak of proofs that + can only apply to another. + </p> + <p> + “How shall the name of Lesperon having been found among the Duke of + Montmorency's papers convict me of treason, since I tell you that I am not + Lesperon? Had you the slightest, the remotest sense of your high duty, + messieurs, you would ask me rather to explain how, if what I state be + true, I come to be confounded with Lesperon and arrested in his place. + Then, messieurs, you might seek to test the accuracy of what statements I + may make; but to proceed as you are proceeding is not to judge but to + murder. Justice is represented as a virtuous woman with bandaged eyes, + holding impartial scales; in your hands, gentlemen, by my soul, she is + become a very harlot clutching a veil.” + </p> + <p> + Chatellerault's cynical smile grew broader as my speech proceeded and + stirred up the rancour in the hearts of those august gentlemen. The Keeper + of the Seals went white and red by turns, and when I paused there was an + impressive silence that lasted for some moments. At last the President + leant over to confer in a whisper with Chatellerault. Then, in a voice + forcedly calm—like the calm of Nature when thunder is brewing—he + asked me, “Who do you insist that you are, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Once already have I told you, and I venture to think that mine is a name + not easily forgotten. I am the Sieur Marcel de Saint-Pol, Marquis of + Bardelys, of Bardelys in Picardy.” + </p> + <p> + A cunning grin parted his thin lips. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any witnesses to identify you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hundreds, monsieur!” I answered eagerly, seeing salvation already within + my grasp. + </p> + <p> + “Name some of them.” + </p> + <p> + “I will name one—one whose word you will not dare to doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “That is?” + </p> + <p> + “His Majesty the King. I am told that he is on his way to Toulouse, and I + but ask, messieurs, that you await his arrival before going further with + my trial.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there no other witness of whom you can think, monsieur? Some witness + that might be produced more readily. For if you can, indeed, establish the + identity you claim, why should you languish in prison for some weeks?” + </p> + <p> + His voice was soft and oily. The anger had all departed out of it, which I—like + a fool—imagined to be due to my mention of the King. + </p> + <p> + “My friends, Monsieur le Garde des Sceaux, are all either in Paris or in + His Majesty's train, and so not likely to be here before him. There is my + intendant, Rodenard, and there are my servants—some twenty of them—who + may perhaps be still in Languedoc, and for whom I would entreat you to + seek. Them you might succeed in finding within a few days if they have not + yet determined to return to Paris in the belief that I am dead.” + </p> + <p> + He stroked his chin meditatively, his eyes raised to the sunlit dome of + glass overhead. + </p> + <p> + “Ah-h!” he gasped. It was a long-drawn sigh of regret, of conclusion, or + of weary impatience. “There is no one in Toulouse who will swear to your + identity monsieur?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid there is not,” I replied. “I know of no one.” + </p> + <p> + As I uttered those words the President's countenance changed as abruptly + as if he had flung off a mask. From soft and cat-like that he had been + during the past few moments, he grew of a sudden savage as a tiger. He + leapt to his feet, his face crimson, his eyes seeming to blaze, and the + words he spoke came now in a hot, confused, and almost incoherent torrent. + </p> + <p> + “Miserable!” he roared, “out of your own mouth have you convicted + yourself. And to think that you should have stood there and wasted the + time of this Court—His Majesty's time—with your damnable + falsehoods! What purpose did you think to serve by delaying your doom? Did + you imagine that haply, whilst we sent to Paris for your witnesses, the + King might grow weary of justice, and in some fit of clemency announce a + general pardon? Such things have been known, and it may be that in your + cunning you played for such a gain based upon such a hope. But justice, + fool, is not to be cozened. Had you, indeed, been Bardelys, you had seen + that here in this court sits a gentleman who is very intimate with him. He + is there, monsieur; that is Monsieur le Comte de Chatellerault, of whom + perhaps you may have heard. Yet, when I ask you whether in Toulouse there + is any one who can bear witness to your identity, you answer me that you + know of no one. I will waste no more time with you, I promise you.” + </p> + <p> + He flung himself back into his chair like a man exhausted, and mopped his + brow with a great kerchief which he had drawn from his robes. His fellow + judges laid their heads together, and with smiles and nods, winks and + leers, they discussed and admired the miraculous subtlety and acumen of + this Solomon. Chatellerault sat, calmly smiling, in solemn mockery. + </p> + <p> + For a spell I was too thunderstruck to speak, aghast at this catastrophe. + Like a fool, indeed, I had tumbled into the pit that had been dug for me + by Chatellerault for I never doubted that it was of his contriving. At + last, “My masters,” said I, “these conclusions may appear to you most + plausible, but, believe me, they are fallacious. I am perfectly acquainted + with Monsieur de Chatellerault, and he with me, and if he were to speak + the truth and play the man and the gentleman for once, he would tell you + that I am, indeed, Bardelys. But Monsieur le Comte has ends of his own to + serve in sending me to my doom. It is in a sense through his agency that I + am at present in this position, and that I have been confounded with + Lesperon. What, then, could it have availed me to have made appeal to him? + And yet, Monsieur le President, he was born a gentleman, and he may still + retain some notion of honour. Ask him, sir—ask him point-blank, + whether I am or not Marcel de Bardelys.” + </p> + <p> + The firmness of my tones created some impression upon those feeble minds. + Indeed, the President went so far as to turn an interrogative glance upon + the Count. But Chatellerault, supremely master of the situation, shrugged + his shoulders, and smiled a pitying, long-suffering smile. + </p> + <p> + “Must I really answer such a question, Monsieur le President?” he inquired + in a voice and with a manner that clearly implied how low would be his + estimate of the President's intelligence if he were, indeed, constrained + to do so. + </p> + <p> + “But no, Monsieur le Comte,” replied the President with sudden haste, and + in scornful rejection of the idea. “There is no necessity that you should + answer.” + </p> + <p> + “But the question, Monsieur le President!” I thundered, my hand + outstretched towards Chatellerault. “Ask him—if you have any sense + of your duty—ask him am I not Marcel de Bardelys.” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” blazed the President back at me. “You shall not fool us any + longer, you nimble-witted liar!” + </p> + <p> + My head drooped. This coward had, indeed, shattered my last hope. + </p> + <p> + “Some day, monsieur,” I said very quietly, “I promise you that your + behaviour and these gratuitous insults shall cost you your position. Pray + God they do not cost you also your head!” + </p> + <p> + My words they treated as one might treat the threats of a child. That I + should have had the temerity to utter them did but serve finally to decide + my doom, if, indeed, anything had been wanting. + </p> + <p> + With many epithets of opprobrium, such as are applied to malefactors of + the lowest degree, they passed sentence of death upon me, and with + drooping spirits, giving myself up for lost and assured that I should be + led to the block before many hours were sped, I permitted them to + reconduct me through the streets of Toulouse to my prison. + </p> + <p> + I could entertain you at length upon my sensations as I walked between my + guards, a man on the threshold of eternity, with hundreds of men and women + gaping at me—men and women who would live for years to gape upon + many another wretch in my position. The sun shone with a brilliance that + to such eyes as mine was a very mockery. Thus would it shine on through + centuries, and light many another unfortunate to the scaffold. The very + sky seemed pitiless in the intensity of its cobalt. Unfeeling I deemed the + note that everywhere was struck by man and Nature, so discordant was it + with my gloomy outlook. If you would have food for reflection upon the + evanescent quality of life, upon the nothingness of man, upon the empty, + heartless egoism implicit in human nature, get yourselves sentenced to + death, and then look around you. With such a force was all this borne in + upon me, and with such sufficiency, that after the first pang was spent I + went near to rejoicing that things were as they were, and that I was to + die, haply before sunset. It was become such a world as did not seem worth + a man's while to live in: a world of vainness, of hollowness, of meanness, + of nothing but illusions. The knowledge that I was about to die, that I + was about to quit all this, seemed to have torn some veil from my eyes, + and to have permitted me to recognize the worthless quality of what I + left. Well may it be that such are but the thoughts of a man's dying + moments, whispered into his soul by a merciful God to predispose him for + the wrench and agony of his passing. + </p> + <p> + I had been a half-hour in my cell when the door was opened to admit + Castelroux, whom I had not seen since the night before. He came to condole + with me in my extremity, and yet to bid me not utterly lose hope. + </p> + <p> + “It is too late to-day to carry out the sentence,” said he, “and as + to-morrow will be Sunday, you will have until the day after. By then much + may betide, monsieur. My agents are everywhere scouring the province for + your servants, and let us pray Heaven that they may succeed in their + search.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a forlorn hope, Monsieur de Castelroux,” I sighed, “and I will pin + no faith to it lest I suffer a disappointment that will embitter my last + moments, and perhaps rob me of some of the fortitude I shall have need + of.” + </p> + <p> + He answered me, nevertheless, with words of encouragement. No effort was + being spared, and if Rodenard and my men were still in Languedoc then was + every likelihood that they would be brought to Toulouse in time. Then he + added that that, however, was not the sole object of his visit. A lady had + obtained permission of the Keeper of the Seals to visit me, and she was + waiting to be admitted. + </p> + <p> + “A lady?” I exclaimed, and the thought of Roxalanne flitted through my + mind. “Mademoiselle de Lavedan?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + He nodded. “Yes,” said he; then added, “She seems in sore affliction, + monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + I besought him to admit her forthwith, and presently she came. Castelroux + closed the door as he withdrew, and we were left alone together. As she + put aside her cloak, and disclosed to me the pallor of her face and the + disfiguring red about her gentle eyes, telling of tears and sleeplessness, + all my own trouble seemed to vanish in the contemplation of her + affliction. + </p> + <p> + We stood a moment confronting each other with no word spoken. Then, + dropping her glance, and advancing a step, in a faltering, hesitating + manner “Monsieur, monsieur,” she murmured in a suffocating voice. + </p> + <p> + In a bound I was beside her, and I had gathered her in my arms, her little + brown head against my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Roxalanne!” I whispered as soothingly as I might—“Roxalanne!” + </p> + <p> + But she struggled to be free of my embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, monsieur,” she pleaded, a curious shrinking in her very voice. + “Do not touch me, monsieur. You do not know—you do not know.” + </p> + <p> + For answer, I enfolded her more tightly still. + </p> + <p> + “But I do know, little one,” I whispered; “and I even understand.” + </p> + <p> + At that, her struggles ceased upon the instant, and she seemed to lie limp + and helpless in my arms. + </p> + <p> + “You know, monsieur,” she questioned me—“you know that I betrayed + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I answered simply. + </p> + <p> + “And you can forgive me? I am sending you to your death and you have no + reproaches for me! Oh, monsieur, it will kill me!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, child!” I whispered. “What reproaches can I have for you? I know + the motives that impelled you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not altogether, monsieur; you cannot know them. I loved you, monsieur. I + do love you, monsieur. Oh! this is not a time to consider words. If I am + bold and unmaidenly, I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “Neither bold nor unmaidenly, but—oh, the sweetest damsel in all + France, my Roxalanne!” I broke in, coming to her aid. “Mine was a leprous, + sinful soul, child, when I came into Languedoc. I had no faith in any + human good, and I looked as little for an honest man or a virtuous woman + as one looks for honey in a nettle. I was soured, and my life had hardly + been such a life as it was meet to bring into contact with your own. Then, + among the roses at Lavedan, in your dear company, Roxalanne, it seemed + that some of the good, some of the sweetness, some of the purity about you + were infused anew into my heart. I became young again, and I seemed oddly + cleansed. In that hour of my rejuvenation I loved you, Roxalanne.” + </p> + <p> + Her face had been raised to mine as I spoke. There came now a flutter of + the eyelids, a curious smile about the lips. Then her head drooped again + and was laid against my breast; a sigh escaped her, and she began to weep + softly. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Roxalanne, do not fret. Come, child, it is not your way to be weak.” + </p> + <p> + “I have betrayed you!” she moaned. “I am sending you to your death!” + </p> + <p> + “I understand, I understand,” I answered, smoothing her brown hair. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite, monsieur. I loved you so, monsieur, that you can have no + thought of how I suffered that morning when Mademoiselle de Marsac came to + Lavedan. + </p> + <p> + “At first it was but the pain of thinking that—that I was about to + lose you; that you were to go out of my life, and that I should see you no + more—you whom I had enshrined so in my heart. + </p> + <p> + “I called myself a little fool that morning for having dreamed that you + had come to care for me; my vanity I thought had deluded me into imagining + that your manner towards me had a tenderness that spoke of affection. I + was bitter with myself, and I suffered oh, so much! Then later, when I was + in the rose garden, you came to me. + </p> + <p> + “You remember how you seized me, and how by your manner you showed me that + it was not vanity alone had misled me. You had fooled me, I thought; even + in that hour I imagined you were fooling me; you made light of me; and my + sufferings were naught to you so that I might give you some amusement to + pass the leisure and monotony of your sojourn with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Roxalanne—my poor Roxalanne!” I whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Then my bitterness and sorrow all turned to anger against you. You had + broken my heart, and I thought that you had done it wantonly. For that I + burned to punish you. Ah! and not only that, perhaps. I think, too, that + some jealousy drove me on. You had wooed and slighted me, yet you had made + me love you, and if you were not for me I swore you should be for no + other. And so, while my madness endured, I quitted Lavedan, and telling my + father that I was going to Auch, to his sister's house, I came to Toulouse + and betrayed you to the Keeper of the Seals. + </p> + <p> + “Scarce was the thing done than I beheld the horror of it, and I hated + myself. In my despair, I abandoned all idea of pursuing the journey to + Auch, but turned and made my way back in haste, hoping that I might still + come to warn you. But at Grenade I met you already in charge of the + soldiers. At Grenade, too I learnt the truth—that you were not + Lesperon. Can you not guess something of my anguish then? Already loathing + my act, and beside myself for having betrayed you, think into what despair + I was plunged by Monsieur de Marsac's intimation. + </p> + <p> + “Then I understood that for reasons of your own you had concealed your + identity. You were not perhaps, betrothed; indeed, I remembered then how, + solemnly you had sworn that you were not; and so I bethought me that your + vows to me may have been sincere and such as a maid might honourably + listen to.” + </p> + <p> + “They were, Roxalanne! they were!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + But she continued “That you had Mademoiselle de Marsac's portrait was + something that I could not explain; but then I hear that you had also + Lesperon's papers upon you; so that you may have become possessed of the + one with the others. And now, monsieur—” + </p> + <p> + She ceased, and there against my breast she lay weeping and weeping in her + bitter passion of regret, until it seemed to me she would never regain her + self-control. + </p> + <p> + “It has been all my fault, Roxalanne,” said I, “and if I am to pay the + price they are exacting, it will be none too high. I embarked upon a + dastardly business; which brought me to Languedoc under false colours. I + wish, indeed, that I had told you when first the impulse to tell you came + upon me. Afterwards it grew impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me now,” she begged. “Tell me who you are.” + </p> + <p> + Sorely was I tempted to respond. Almost was I on the point of doing so, + when suddenly the thought of how she might shrink from me, of how, even + then, she might come to think that I had but simulated love for her for + infamous purposes of gain, restrained and silenced me. During the few + hours of life that might be left me I would at least be lord and master of + her heart. When I was dead—for I had little hope of Castelroux's + efforts—it would matter less, and perhaps because I was dead she + would be merciful. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot, Roxalanne. Not even now. It is too vile! If—if they carry + out the sentence on Monday, I shall leave a letter for you, telling you + everything.” + </p> + <p> + She shuddered, and a sob escaped her. From my identity her mind fled back + to the more important matter of my fate. + </p> + <p> + “They will not carry it out, monsieur! Oh, they till not! Say that you can + defend yourself, that you are not the man they believe you to be!” + </p> + <p> + “We are in God's hands, child. It may be that I shall save myself yet. If + I do, I shall come straight to you, and you shall know all that there is + to know. But, remember, child”—and raising her face in my hands, I + looked down into the blue of her tearful eyes—“remember, little one, + that in one thing I have been true and honourable, and influenced by + nothing but my heart—in my wooing of you. I love you, Roxalanne, + with all my soul, and if I should die you are the only thing in all this + world that I experience a regret at leaving.” + </p> + <p> + “I do believe it; I do, indeed. Nothing can ever alter my belief again. + Will you not, then, tell me who you are, and what is this thing, which you + call dishonourable, that brought you into Languedoc?” + </p> + <p> + A moment again I pondered. Then I shook my head. + </p> + <p> + “Wait, child,” said I; and she, obedient to my wishes, asked no more. + </p> + <p> + It was the second time that I neglected a favourable opportunity of making + that confession, and as I had regretted having allowed the first occasion + to pass unprofited, so was I, and still more poignantly, to regret this + second silence. + </p> + <p> + A little while she stayed with me yet, and I sought to instil some measure + of comfort into her soul. I spoke of the hopes that I based upon + Castelroux's finding friends to recognize me—hopes that were passing + slender. And she, poor child, sought also to cheer me and give me courage. + </p> + <p> + “If only the King were here!” she sighed. “I would go to him, and on my + knees I would plead for your enlargement. But they say he is no nearer + than Lyons; and I could not hope to get there and back by Monday. I will + go to the Keeper of the Seals again, monsieur, and I will beg him to be + merciful, and at least to delay the sentence.” + </p> + <p> + I did not discourage her; I did not speak of the futility of such a step. + But I begged her to remain in Toulouse until Monday, that she might visit + me again before the end, if the end were to become inevitable. + </p> + <p> + Then Castelroux came to reconduct her, and we parted. But she left me a + great consolation, a great strengthening comfort. If I were destined, + indeed, to walk to the scaffold, it seemed that I could do it with a + better grace and a gladder courage now. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. THE ELEVENTH HOUR + </h2> + <p> + Castelroux visited me upon the following morning, but he brought no news + that might be accounted encouraging. None of his messengers were yet + returned, nor had any sent word that they were upon the trail of my + followers. My heart sank a little, and such hope as I still fostered was + fast perishing. Indeed, so imminent did my doom appear and so unavoidable, + that later in the day I asked for pen and paper that I might make an + attempt at setting my earthly affairs to rights. Yet when the writing + materials were brought me, I wrote not. I sat instead with the feathered + end of my quill between my teeth, and thus pondered the matter of the + disposal of my Picardy estates. + </p> + <p> + Coldly I weighed the wording of the wager and the events that had + transpired, and I came at length to the conclusion that Chatellerault + could not be held to have the least claim upon my lands. That he had + cheated at the very outset, as I have earlier shown, was of less account + than that he had been instrumental in violently hindering me. + </p> + <p> + I took at last the resolve to indite a full memoir of the transaction, and + to request Castelroux to see that it was delivered to the King himself. + Thus not only would justice be done, but I should—though tardily—be + even with the Count. No doubt he relied upon his power to make a thorough + search for such papers as I might leave, and to destroy everything that + might afford indication of my true identity. But he had not counted upon + the good feeling that had sprung up betwixt the little Gascon captain and + me, nor yet upon my having contrived to convince the latter that I was, + indeed, Bardelys, and he little dreamt of such a step as I was about to + take to ensure his punishment hereafter. + </p> + <p> + Resolved at last, I was commencing to write when my attention was arrested + by an unusual sound. It was at first no more than a murmuring noise, as of + at sea breaking upon its shore. Gradually it grew its volume and assumed + the shape of human voices raised in lusty clamour. Then, above the din of + the populace, a gun boomed out, then another, and another. + </p> + <p> + I sprang up at that, and, wondering what might be toward, I crossed to my + barred window and stood there listening. I overlooked the courtyard of the + jail, and I could see some commotion below, in sympathy, as it were, with + the greater commotion without. + </p> + <p> + Presently, as the populace drew nearer, it seemed to me that the shouting + was of acclamation. Next I caught a blare of trumpets, and, lastly, I was + able to distinguish above the noise, which had now grown to monstrous + proportions, the clattering hoofs of some cavalcade that was riding past + the prison doors. + </p> + <p> + It was borne in upon me that some great personage was arriving in + Toulouse, and my first thought was of the King. At the idea of such a + possibility my brain whirled and I grew dizzy with hope. The next moment I + recalled that but last night Roxalanne had told me that he was no nearer + than Lyons, and so I put the thought from me, and the hope with it, for, + travelling in that leisurely, indolent fashion that was characteristic of + his every action, it would be a miracle if His Majesty should reach + Toulouse before the week was out, and this but Sunday. + </p> + <p> + The populace passed on, then seemed to halt, and at last the shouts died + down on the noontide air. I went back to my writing, and to wait until + from my jailer, when next he should chance to appear, I might learn the + meaning of that uproar. + </p> + <p> + An hour perhaps went by, and I had made some progress with my memoir, when + my door was opened and the cheery voice of Castelroux greeted me from the + threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I have brought a friend to see you.” + </p> + <p> + I turned in my chair, and one glance at the gentle, comely face and the + fair hair of the young man standing beside Castelroux was enough to bring + me of a sudden to my feet. + </p> + <p> + “Mironsac!” I shouted, and sprang towards him with hands outstretched. + </p> + <p> + But though my joy was great and my surprise profound, greater still was + the bewilderment that in Mironsac's face I saw depicted. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Bardelys!” he exclaimed, and a hundred questions were + contained in his astonished eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Po' Cap de Dieu!” growled his cousin, “I was well advised, it seems, to + have brought you.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Mironsac asked his cousin, as he took my hands in his own, “why did + you not tell me, Amedee, that it was to Monsieur le Marquis de Bardelys + that you were conducting me?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you have had me spoil so pleasant a surprise?” his cousin demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Armand,” said I, “never was a man more welcome than are you. You are but + come in time to save my life.” + </p> + <p> + And then, in answer to his questions, I told him briefly of all that had + befallen me since that night in Paris when the wager had been laid, and of + how, through the cunning silence of Chatellerault, I was now upon the very + threshold of the scaffold. His wrath burst forth at that, and what he said + of the Count did me good to hear. At last I stemmed his invective. + </p> + <p> + “Let that be for the present, Mironsac,” I laughed. “You are here, and you + can thwart all Chatellerault's designs by witnessing to my identity before + the Keeper of the Seals.” + </p> + <p> + And then of a sudden a doubt closed like a cold hand upon my brain. I + turned to Castelroux. + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu!” I cried. “What if they were to deny me a fresh trial?” + </p> + <p> + “Deny it you!” he laughed. “They will not be asked to grant you one.” + </p> + <p> + “There will be no need,” added Mironsac. “I have but to tell the King—” + </p> + <p> + “But, my friend,” I exclaimed impatiently, “I am to die in the morning!” + </p> + <p> + “And the King shall be told to-day—now, at once. I will go to him.” + </p> + <p> + I stared askance a moment; then the thought of the uproar that I had heard + recurring to me, “Has the King arrived already?” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally, monsieur. How else do I come to be here? I am in His Majesty's + train.” + </p> + <p> + At that I grew again impatient. I thought of Roxalanne and of how she must + be suffering, and I bethought me that every moment Mironsac now remained + in my cell was another moment of torture for that poor child. So I urged + him to be gone at once and carry news of my confinement to His Majesty. He + obeyed me, and I was left alone once more, to pace up and down in my + narrow cell, a prey to an excitement such as I should have thought I had + outlived. + </p> + <p> + At the end of a half-hour Castelroux returned alone. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” I cried the moment the door opened, and without giving him so much + as time to enter. “What news?” + </p> + <p> + “Mironsac tells me that His Majesty is more overwrought than he has ever + seen him. You are to come to the Palace at once. I have an order here from + the King.” + </p> + <p> + We went in a coach, and with all privacy, for he informed me that His + Majesty desired the affair to be kept secret, having ends of his own to + serve thereby. + </p> + <p> + I was left to wait some moments in an ante-chamber, whilst Castelroux + announced me to the King; then I was ushered into a small apartment, + furnished very sumptuously in crimson and gold, and evidently set apart + for His Majesty's studies or devotions. As I entered, Louis's back was + towards me. He was standing—a tall, spare figure in black—leaning + against the frame of a window, his head supported on his raised left arm + and his eyes intent upon the gardens below. + </p> + <p> + He remained so until Castelroux had withdrawn and the door had closed + again; then, turning suddenly, he confronted me, his back to the light, so + that his face was in a shadow that heightened its gloom and wonted + weariness. + </p> + <p> + “Voila, Monsieur de Bardelys!” was his greeting, and unfriendly. “See the + pass to which your disobedience of my commands has brought you.” + </p> + <p> + “I would submit, Sire,” I answered, “that I have been brought to it by the + incompetence of Your Majesty's judges and the ill-will of others whom Your + Majesty honours with too great a confidence, rather than by this same + disobedience of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “The one and the other, perhaps,” he said more softly. “Though, after all, + they appear to have had a very keen nose for a traitor. Come, Bardelys, + confess yourself that.” + </p> + <p> + “I? A traitor?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders, and laughed without any conspicuous mirth. + </p> + <p> + “Is not a traitor one who runs counter to the wishes; of his King? And are + you not, therefore, a traitor, whether they call you Lesperon or Bardelys? + But there,” he ended more softly still, and flinging himself into a chair + as he spoke, “I have been so wearied since you left me, Marcel. They have + the best intentions in the world, these dullards, and some of them love me + even; but they are tiresome all. Even Chatellerault, when he has a fancy + for a jest—as in your case perpetrates it with the grace of a bear, + the sprightliness of an elephant.” + </p> + <p> + “Jest?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “You find it no jest, Marcel? Pardieu, who shall blame you? He would be a + man of unhealthy humour that could relish such a pleasantry as that of + being sentenced to death. But tell me of it. The whole story, Marcel. I + have not heard a story worth the listening to since—since you left + us.” + </p> + <p> + “Would it please you, Sire, to send for the Comte de Chatellerault ere I + begin?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Chatellerault? No, no.” He shook his head whimsically. “Chatellerault has + had his laugh already, and, like the ill-mannered dog he is, he has kept + it to himself. I think, Marcel, that it is our turn now. I have purposely + sent Chatellerault away that he may gain no notion of the catastrophic + jest we are preparing him in return.” + </p> + <p> + The words set me in the very best of humours, and to that it may be due + that presently, as I warmed to my narrative, I lent it a vigour that drew + His Majesty out of his wonted apathy and listlessness. He leaned forward + when I told him of my encounter with the dragoons at Mirepoix, and how + first I had committed the false step of representing myself to be + Lesperon. + </p> + <p> + Encouraged by his interest, I proceeded, and I told my story with as much + piquancy as I was master of, repressing only those slight matters which + might reflect upon Monsieur de Lavedan's loyalty, but otherwise dealing + frankly with His Majesty, even down to the genuineness of the feelings I + entertained for Roxalanne. Often he laughed, more often still he nodded + approvingly, in understanding and sympathy, whilst now and then he purred + his applause. But towards the end, when I came to the matter of the + Tribunal of Toulouse, of how my trial was conducted, and of the part + played in it by Chatellerault, his face grew set and hard. + </p> + <p> + “It is true—all this that you tell me?” he cried harshly. + </p> + <p> + “As true as the Gospels. If you deem an oath necessary, Sire, I swear by + my honour that I have uttered nothing that is false, and that, in + connection with Monsieur de Chatellerault, even as I have suppressed + nothing, so also have I exaggerated nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “The dastard!” he snapped. “But we will avenge you, Marcel. Never fear + it.” + </p> + <p> + Then the trend of his thoughts being changed, he smiled wearily. + </p> + <p> + “By my faith, you may thank God every night of your worthless life that I + came so opportunely to Toulouse, and so may that fair child whose beauty + you have limned with such a lover's ardour. Nay, never redden, Marcel. + What? At your age, and with such a heavy score of affaires to your credit, + has it been left for a simple Languedoc maiden to call a blush to your + callous cheek? Ma foi, they say truly that love is a great regenerator, a + great rejuvenator!” + </p> + <p> + I made him no answer other than a sigh, for his words set me thinking, and + with thought came a tempering of the gay humour that had pervaded me. + Remarking this, and misreading it, he laughed outright. + </p> + <p> + “There, Marcel, never fear. We will not be rigorous. You have won both the + maid and the wager, and, by the Mass, you shall enjoy both.” + </p> + <p> + “Helas, Sire,” I sighed again, “when the lady comes to know of the wager—” + </p> + <p> + “Waste no time in telling her, Marcel, and cast yourself upon her mercy. + Nay, go not with so gloomy a face, my friend. When woman loves, she can be + very merciful; leastways, they tell me so.” + </p> + <p> + Then, his thoughts shifting ground once more, he grew stern again. + </p> + <p> + “But first we have Chatellerault to deal with. What shall we do with him?” + </p> + <p> + “It is for Your Majesty to decide.” + </p> + <p> + “For me?” he cried, his voice resuming the harshness that was never far + from it. “I have a fancy for having gentlemen about me. Think you I will + set eyes again upon that dastard? I am already resolved concerning him, + but it entered my mind that it might please you to be the instrument of + the law for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Me, Sire?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, and why not? They say you can play a very deadly sword upon + necessity. This is an occasion that demands an exception from our edict. + You have my sanction to send the Comte de Chatellerault a challenge. And + see that you kill him, Bardelys!” he continued viciously. “For, by the + Mass, if you don't, I will! If he escapes your sword, or if he survives + such hurt as you may do him, the headsman shall have him. Mordieu! is it + for nothing that I am called Louis the Just?” + </p> + <p> + I stood in thought for a moment. Then— + </p> + <p> + “If I do this thing, Sire,” I ventured, “the world will say of me that I + did so to escape the payment I had incurred.” + </p> + <p> + “Fool, you have not incurred it. When a man cheats, does he not forfeit + all his rights?” + </p> + <p> + “That is very true. But the world—” + </p> + <p> + “Peste!” he snapped impatiently, “you are beginning to weary me, Marcel—and + all the world does that so excellently that it needs not your + collaboration. Go your ways, man, and do as you elect. But take my + sanction to slay this fellow Chatellerault, and I shall be the better + pleased if you avail yourself of it. He is lodged at the Auberge Royale, + where probably you will find him at present. Now, go. I have more justice + to dispense in this rebellious province.” + </p> + <p> + I paused a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I not resume my duties near Your Majesty?” + </p> + <p> + He pondered a moment, then he smiled in his weary way. + </p> + <p> + “It would please me to have you, for these creatures are so dismally dull, + all of them. Je m'ennuie tellement, Marcel!” he sighed. “Ough! But, no, my + friend, I do not doubt you would be as dull as any of them at present. A + man in love is the weariest and most futile thing in all this weary, + futile world. What shall I do with your body what time your soul is at + Lavedan? I doubt me you are in haste to get you there. So go, Marcel. Get + you wed, and live out your amorous intoxication; marriage is the best + antidote. When that is done, return to me.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be never, Sire,” I answered slyly. + </p> + <p> + “Say you so, Master Cupid Bardelys?” And he combed his beard reflectively. + “Be not too sure. There have been other passions—aye, as great as + yours—yet have they staled. But you waste my time. Go, Marcel; you + are excused your duties by me for as long as your own affairs shall hold + you elsewhere—for as long as you please. We are here upon a gloomy + business—as you know. There are my cousin Montmorency and the others + to be dealt with, and we are holding no levees, countenancing no revels. + But come to me when you will, and I will see you. Adieu!” + </p> + <p> + I murmured my thanks, and very deep and sincere were they. Then, having + kissed his hand, I left him. + </p> + <p> + Louis XIII is a man who lacks not maligners. Of how history may come to + speak of him it is not mine to hazard. But this I can say, that I, at + least, did never find him other than a just and kindly master, an upright + gentleman, capricious at times and wilful, as must inevitably be the case + with such spoilt children of fortune as are princes, but of lofty ideals + and high principles. It was his worst fault that he was always tired, and + through that everlasting weariness he came to entrust the determining of + most affairs to His Eminence. Hence has it resulted that the censure for + many questionable acts of his reign, which were the work of my Lord + Cardinal, has recoiled upon my august master's head. + </p> + <p> + But to me, with all the faults that may be assigned him, he was ever Louis + the Just, and wherever his name be mentioned in my hearing, I bare my + head. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. EAVESDROPPING + </h2> + <p> + I turned it over in my mind, after I had left the King's presence, whether + or not I should visit with my own hands upon Chatellerault the punishment + he had so fully earned. That I would have gone about the task rejoicing + you may readily imagine; but there was that accursed wager, and—to + restrain me—the thought of how such an action might be construed + into an evasion of its consequences. Better a thousand times that His + Majesty should order his arrest and deal with him for his attempted + perversion of justice to the service of his own vile ends. The charge of + having abused his trust as King's commissioner to the extent of seeking to + do murder through the channels of the Tribunal was one that could not fail + to have fatal results for him—as, indeed, the King had sworn. + </p> + <p> + That was the position of affairs as it concerned Chatellerault, the world, + and me. But the position must also be considered as it concerned + Roxalanne, and deeply, indeed, did I so consider it. Much pondering + brought me again to the conclusion that until I had made the only + atonement in my power, the only atonement that would leave me with clean + hands, I must not again approach her. + </p> + <p> + Whether Chatellerault had cheated or not could not affect the question as + it concerned Mademoiselle and me. If I paid the wager—whether in + honour bound to do so or not—I might then go to her, impoverished, + it is true, but at least with no suspicion attaching to my suit of any + ulterior object other than that of winning Roxalanne herself. + </p> + <p> + I could then make confession, and surely the fact that I had paid where + clearly there was no longer any need to pay must earn me forgiveness and + afford proof of the sincerity of my passion. + </p> + <p> + Upon such a course, then, did I decide, and, with this end in view, I took + my way towards the Auberge Royale, where His Majesty had told me that the + Count was lodged. It was my purpose to show myself fully aware of the + treacherous and unworthy part he had played at the very inception of the + affair, and that if I chose to consider the wager lost it was that I might + the more honestly win the lady. + </p> + <p> + Upon inquiring at the hostelry for Monsieur de Chatellerault I was + informed by the servant I addressed that he was within, but that at the + moment he had a visitor. I replied that I would wait, and demanded a + private room, since I desired to avoid meeting any Court acquaintances who + might chance into the auberge before I had seen the Count. + </p> + <p> + My apparel at the moment may not have been all that could have been + desired, but when a gentleman's rearing has taken place amid an army of + servitors to minister to his every wish, he is likely to have acquired an + air that is wont to win him obedience. With all celerity was I ushered + into a small chamber, opening on the one side upon the common room, and + being divided on the other by the thinnest of wooden partitions from the + adjoining apartment. + </p> + <p> + Here, the landlord having left me, I disposed myself to wait, and here I + did a thing I would not have believed myself capable of doing, a thing I + cannot think of without blushing to this very day. In short, I played the + eavesdropper—I, Marcel Saint-Pol de Bardelys. Yet, if you who read + and are nice-minded, shudder at this confession, or, worse still, shrug + your shoulders in contempt, with the reflection that such former conduct + of mine as I have avowed had already partly disposed you against surprise + at this I do but ask that you measure my sin by my temptation, and think + honestly whether in my position you might not yourselves have fallen. Aye—be + you never so noble and high-principled—I make bold to say that you + had done no less, for the voice that penetrated to my ears was that of + Roxalanne de Lavedan. + </p> + <p> + “I sought an audience with the King,” she was saying, “but I could not + gain his presence. They told me that he was holding no levees, and that he + refused to see any one not introduced by one of those having the private + entree.” + </p> + <p> + “And so,” answered the voice of Chatellerault, in tones that were + perfectly colourless, “you come to me that I may present you to his + Majesty?” + </p> + <p> + “You have guessed it, Monsieur le Comte. You are the only gentleman of His + Majesty's suite, with whom I can claim acquaintance—however slight—and, + moreover, it is well known how high you stand in his royal favour. I was + told that they that have a boon to crave can find no better sponsor.” + </p> + <p> + “Had you gone to the King, mademoiselle,” said he, “had you gained + audience, he would have directed you to make your appeal to me. I am his + Commissioner in Languedoc, and the prisoners attainted with high treason + are my property.” + </p> + <p> + “Why then, monsieur,” she cried in an eager voice, that set my pulses + throbbing, “you'll not deny me the boon I crave? You'll not deny me his + life?” + </p> + <p> + There was a short laugh from Chatellerault, and I could hear the + deliberate fall of his feet as he paced the chamber. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, mademoiselle, you must not overrate my powers. You must not + forget that I am the slave of Justice. You may be asking more than is in + my power to grant. What can you advance to show that I should be justified + in proceeding as you wish?” + </p> + <p> + “Helas, monsieur, I can advance nothing but my prayers and the assurance + that a hideous mistake is being made.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your interest in this Monsieur de Lesperon?” + </p> + <p> + “He is not Monsieur de Lesperon,” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “But, since you cannot tell me who he is, you must be content that we + speak of him at least as Lesperon,” said he, and I could imagine the evil + grin with which he would accompany the words. + </p> + <p> + The better that you may appreciate that which followed, let me here impart + to you the suspicions which were already sinking into my mind, to be + changed later into absolute convictions touching the course the Count + intended to pursue concerning me. The sudden arrival of the King had + thrown him into some measure of panic, and no longer daring to carry out + his plans concerning me, it was his object, I made no doubt, to set me at + liberty that very evening. Ere he did so, however, and presuming upon my + ignorance of His Majesty's presence in Toulouse, Chatellerault would of a + certainty have bound me down by solemn promise—making that promise + the price of my liberty and my life—to breathe no word of my + captivity and trial. No doubt, his cunning brain would have advanced me + plausible and convincing reasons so to engage myself. + </p> + <p> + He had not calculated upon Castelroux, nor that the King should already + have heard of my detention. Now that Roxalanne came to entreat him to do + that which already he saw himself forced to do, he turned his attention to + the profit that he might derive from her interestedness on my behalf. I + could guess also something of the jealous rage that must fill him at this + signal proof of my success with her, and already I anticipated, I think, + the bargain that he would drive. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, then,” he was repeating, “what is your interest in this + gentleman?” + </p> + <p> + There was a silence. I could imagine her gentle face clouded with the + trouble that sprang from devising an' answer to that question; I could + picture her innocent eyes cast down, her delicate cheeks pinked by some + measure of shame, as at last, in a low, stifled voice, the four words + broke from her “I love him, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Ah, Dieu! To hear her confess it so! If yesternight it had stirred me to + the very depths of my poor, sinful soul to have her say so much to me, how + infinitely more did it not affect me to overhear this frank avowal of it + to another! And to think that she was undergoing all this to the end that + she might save me! + </p> + <p> + From Chatellerault there came an impatient snort in answer, and his feet + again smote the floor as he resumed the pacing that for a moment he had + suspended. Then followed a pause, a long silence, broken only by the + Count's restless walking to and fro. At last “Why are you silent, + monsieur?” she asked in a trembling voice. + </p> + <p> + “Helas, mademoiselle, I can do nothing. I had feared that it might be thus + with you; and, if I put the question, it was in the hope that I was + wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “But he, monsieur?” she exclaimed in anguish. “What of him?” + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, mademoiselle, if it lay in my power I would save him were he + never so guilty, if only that I might spare you sorrow.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke with tender regret, foul hypocrite that he was! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no!” she cried, and her voice was of horror and despair. “You do + not mean that—” She stopped short; and then, after a pause, it was + the Count who finished the sentence for her. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, mademoiselle, that this Lesperon must die!” + </p> + <p> + You will marvel that I let her suffer so, that I did not break down the + partition with my hands and strike that supple gentleman dead at her feet + in atonement for the anguish he was causing her. But I had a mind to see + how far he would drive this game he was engaged upon. + </p> + <p> + Again there was a spell of silence, and at last, when Mademoiselle spoke, + I was amazed at the calm voice in which she addressed him, marvelling at + the strength and courage of one so frail and childlike to behold. + </p> + <p> + “Is your determination, indeed, irrevocable, monsieur? If you have any + pity, will you not at least let me bear my prayers and my tears to the + King?” + </p> + <p> + “It would avail you nothing. As I have said, the Languedoc rebels are in + my hands.” He paused as if to let those words sink well into her + understanding; then, “If I were to set him at liberty, mademoiselle, if I + were to spirit him out of prison in the night, bribing his jailers to keep + silent and binding him by oath to quit France at once and never to betray + me, I should be, myself, guilty of high treason. Thus alone could the + thing be done, and you will see, mademoiselle, that by doing it I should + be endangering my neck.” + </p> + <p> + There was an ineffable undercurrent of meaning in his words—an + intangible suggestion that he might be bribed to do all this to which he + so vaguely alluded. + </p> + <p> + “I understand, monsieur,” she answered, choking—“I understand that + it would be too much to ask of you.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be much, mademoiselle,” he returned quickly, and his voice was + now subdued and invested with an odd quiver. “But nothing that your lips + might ask of me and that it might lie in the power of mortal man to do, + would be too much!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean?” she cried, a catch in her breath. Had she guessed—as I, + without sight of her face, had guessed—what was to follow? My gorge + was rising fast. I clenched my hands, and by an effort I restrained myself + to learn that I had guessed aright. + </p> + <p> + “Some two months ago,” he said, “I journeyed to Lavedan, as you may + remember. I saw you, mademoiselle—for a brief while only, it is true—and + ever since I have seen nothing else but you.” His voice went a shade + lower, and passion throbbed in his words. + </p> + <p> + She, too, perceived it, for the grating of a chair informed me that she + had risen. + </p> + <p> + “Not now, monsieur—not now!” she exclaimed. “This is not the season. + I beg of you think of my desolation.” + </p> + <p> + “I do, mademoiselle, and I respect your grief, and, with all my heart, + believe me, I share it. Yet this is the season, and if you have this man's + interests at heart, you will hear me to the end.” + </p> + <p> + Through all the imperiousness of his tone an odd note of respect—real + or assumed—was sounding. + </p> + <p> + “If you suffer, mademoiselle, believe me that I suffer also, and if I make + you suffer more by what I say, I beg that you will think how what you have + said, how the very motive of your presence here, has made me suffer. Do + you know, mademoiselle, what it is to be torn by jealousy? Can you imagine + it? If you can, you can imagine also something of the torture I endured + when you confessed to me that you loved this Lesperon, when you interceded + for his life. Mademoiselle, I love you—with all my heart and soul I + love you. I have loved you, I think, since the first moment of our meeting + at Lavedan, and to win you there is no risk that I would not take, no + danger that I would not brave.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I implore you—” + </p> + <p> + “Hear me out, mademoiselle!” he cried. Then in quieter voice he proceeded: + “At present you love this Monsieur de Lesperon—” + </p> + <p> + “I shall always love him! Always, monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, wait, wait!” he exclaimed, annoyed by her interruption. “If he were + to live, and you were to wed him and be daily in his company, I make no + doubt your love might endure. But if he were to die, or if he were to pass + into banishment and you were to see him no more, you would mourn him for a + little while, and then—Helas! it is the way of men and women—time + would heal first your sorrow, then your heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Never, monsieur—oh, never!” + </p> + <p> + “I am older, child, than you are. I know. At present you are anxious to + save his life anxious because you love him, and also because you betrayed + him, and you would not have his death upon your conscience.” He paused a + moment; then raising his voice, “Mademoiselle,” said he, “I offer you your + lover's life.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, monsieur!” cried the poor child, “I knew you were good! I knew—” + </p> + <p> + “A moment! Do not misapprehend me. I do not say that I give it—I + offer it.” + </p> + <p> + “But the difference?” + </p> + <p> + “That if you would have it, mademoiselle, you must buy it. I have said + that for you I would brave all dangers. To save your lover, I brave the + scaffold. If I am betrayed, or if the story transpire, my head will + assuredly fall in the place of Lesperon's. This I will risk, mademoiselle—I + will do it gladly—if you will promise to become my wife when it is + done.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moan from Roxalanne, then silence; then—“Oh, monsieur, + you are pitiless! What bargain is this that you offer me?” + </p> + <p> + “A fair one, surely,” said that son of hell—“a very fair one. The + risk of my life against your hand in marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “If you—if you truly loved me as you say, monsieur,” she reasoned, + “you would serve me without asking guerdon.” + </p> + <p> + “In any other thing I would. But is it fair to ask a man who is racked by + love of you to place another in your arms, and that at the risk of his own + life? Ah, mademoiselle, I am but a man, and I am subject to human + weaknesses. If you will consent, this Lesperon shall go free, but you must + see him no more; and I will carry my consideration so far as to give you + six months in which to overcome your sorrow, ere I present myself to you + again to urge my suit.” + </p> + <p> + “And if I refuse, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + He sighed. + </p> + <p> + “To the value which I set upon my life you must add my very human + jealousy. From such a combination what can you hope for?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean, in short, that he must die?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow,” was that infernal cheat's laconic answer. + </p> + <p> + They were silent a little while, then she fell a-sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Be pitiful, monsieur! Have mercy if you, indeed, love me. Oh, he must not + die! I cannot, I dare not, let him die! Save him, monsieur, and I will + pray for you every night of my life; I will pray for you to our Holy + Mother as I am now praying to you for him.” + </p> + <p> + Lived there the man to resist that innocent, devout appeal? Lived there + one who in answer to such gentle words of love and grief could obtrude his + own coarse passions? It seems there did, for all he answered was “You know + the price, child.” + </p> + <p> + “And God pity me! I must pay it. I must, for if he dies I shall have his + blood upon my conscience!” Then she checked her grief, and her voice grew + almost stern in the restraint she set upon herself. “If I give you my + promise to wed you hereafter—say in six months' time—what + proof will you afford me that he who is detained under the name of + Lesperon shall go free?” + </p> + <p> + I caught the sound of something very like a gasp from the Count. + </p> + <p> + “Remain in Toulouse until to-morrow, and to-night ere he departs he shall + come to take his leave of you. Are you content?” + </p> + <p> + “Be it so, monsieur,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + Then at last I leapt to my feet. I could endure no more. You may marvel + that I had had the heart to endure so much, and to have so let her suffer + that I might satisfy myself how far this scoundrel Chatellerault would + drive his trickster's bargain. + </p> + <p> + A more impetuous man would have beaten down the partition, or shouted to + her through it the consolation that Chatellerault's bargain was no bargain + at all, since I was already at large. And that is where a more impetuous + man would have acted upon instinct more wisely than did I upon reason. + Instead, I opened the door, and, crossing the common room, I flung myself + down a passage that I thought must lead to the chamber in which they were + closeted. But in this I was at fault, and ere I had come upon a waiter and + been redirected some precious moments were lost. He led me back through + the common room to a door opening upon another corridor. He pushed it + wide, and I came suddenly face to face with Chatellerault, still flushed + from his recent contest. + </p> + <p> + “You here!” he gasped, his jaw falling, and his cheeks turning pale, as + well they might; for all that he could not dream I had overheard his + bargaining. + </p> + <p> + “We will go back, if you please, Monsieur le Comte.” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Back where?” he asked stupidly. + </p> + <p> + “Back to Mademoiselle. Back to the room you have just quitted.” And none + too gently I pushed him into the corridor again, and so, in the gloom, I + missed the expression of his face. + </p> + <p> + “She is not there,” said he. + </p> + <p> + I laughed shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, we will go back,” I insisted. + </p> + <p> + And so I had my way, and we gained the room where his infamous traffic had + been held. Yet for once he spoke the truth. She was no longer there. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” I demanded angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Gone,” he answered; and when I protested that I had not met her, “You + would not have a lady go by way of the public room, would you?” he + demanded insolently. “She left by the side door into the courtyard.” + </p> + <p> + “That being so, Monsieur le Comte,” said I quietly, “I will have a little + talk with you before going after her.” And I carefully closed the door. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. MONSIEUR DE CHATELLERAULT IS ANGRY + </h2> + <p> + Within the room Chatellerault and I faced each other in silence. And how + vastly changed were the circumstances since our last meeting! + </p> + <p> + The disorder that had stamped itself upon his countenance when first he + had beheld me still prevailed. There was a lowering, sullen look in his + eyes and a certain displacement of their symmetry which was peculiar to + them when troubled. + </p> + <p> + Although a cunning plotter and a scheming intriguer in his own interests, + Chatellerault, as I have said before, was not by nature a quick man. His + wits worked slowly, and he needed leisure to consider a situation and his + actions therein ere he was in a position to engage with it. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte,” quoth I ironically, “I make you my compliments upon + your astuteness and the depth of your schemes, and my condolences upon the + little accident owing to which I am here, and in consequence of which your + pretty plans are likely to miscarry.” + </p> + <p> + He threw back his great head like a horse that feels the curb, and his + smouldering eyes looked up at me balefully. Then his sensuous lips parted + in scorn. + </p> + <p> + “How much do you know?” he demanded with sullen contempt. + </p> + <p> + “I have been in that room for the half of an hour,” I answered, rapping + the partition with my knuckles. + </p> + <p> + “The dividing wall, as you will observe, is thin, and I heard everything + that passed between you and Mademoiselle de Lavedan.” + </p> + <p> + “So that Bardelys, known as the Magnificent; Bardelys the mirror of + chivalry; Bardelys the arbiter elegantiarum of the Court of France, is no + better, it seems, than a vulgar spy.” + </p> + <p> + If he sought by that word to anger me, he failed. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Count,” I answered him very quietly, “you are of an age to know that + the truth alone has power to wound. I was in that room by accident, and + when the first words of your conversation reached me I had not been human + had I not remained and strained my ears to catch every syllable you + uttered. For the rest, let me ask you, my dear Chatellerault, since when + have you become so nice that you dare cast it at a man that he has been + eavesdropping?” + </p> + <p> + “You are obscure, monsieur. What is it that you suggest?” + </p> + <p> + “I am signifying that when a man stands unmasked for a cheat, a liar, and + a thief, his own character should give him concern enough to restrain him + from strictures upon that of another.” + </p> + <p> + A red flush showed through the tan of his skin, then faded and left him + livid—a very evil sight, as God lives. He flung his + heavily-feathered hat upon the table, and carried his hand to his hilt. + </p> + <p> + “God's blood!” he cried. “You shall answer me for this.” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head and smiled; but I made no sign of drawing. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, we must talk a while. I think that you had better.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his sullen eyes to mine. Perhaps the earnest impressiveness of + my tones prevailed. Be that as it may, his half-drawn sword was thrust + back with a click, and “What have you to say?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Be seated.” I motioned him to a chair by the table and when he had taken + it I sat down opposite to him. Taking up a quill, I dipped it in the + ink-horn that stood by, and drew towards me a sheet of paper. + </p> + <p> + “When you lured me into the wager touching Mademoiselle de Lavedan,” said + I calmly, “you did so, counting upon certain circumstances, of which you + alone had knowledge, that should render impossible the urging of my suit. + That, Monsieur le Comte, was undeniably the action of a cheat. Was it + not?” + </p> + <p> + “Damnation!” he roared, and would have risen, but, my hand upon his arm, I + restrained him and pressed him back into his chair. + </p> + <p> + “By a sequence of fortuitous circumstances,” I pursued, “it became + possible for me to circumvent the obstacle upon which you had based your + calculations. Those same circumstances led later to my being arrested in + error and in place of another man. You discovered how I had contravened + the influence upon which you counted; you trembled to see how the + unexpected had befriended me, and you began to fear for your wager. + </p> + <p> + “What did you do? Seeing me arraigned before you in your quality as King's + Commissioner, you pretended to no knowledge of me; you became blind to my + being any but Lesperon the rebel, and you sentenced me to death in his + place, so that being thus definitely removed I should be unable to carry + out my undertaking, and my lands should consequently pass into your + possession. That, monsieur, was at once the act of a thief and a murderer. + Wait, monsieur; restrain yourself until I shall have done. To-day again + fortune comes to my rescue. Again you see me slipping from your grasp, and + you are in despair. Then, in the eleventh hour, Mademoiselle de Lavedan + comes to you to plead for my life. By that act she gives you the most + ample proof that your wager is lost. What would a gentleman, a man of + honour, have done under these circumstances? What did you do? You seized + that last chance; you turned it to the best account; you made this poor + girl buy something from you; you made her sell herself to you for nothing—pretending + that your nothing was a something of great value. What term shall we apply + to that? To say that you cheated again seems hardly adequate.” + </p> + <p> + “By God, Bardelys!” + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” I thundered, looking him straight between the eyes, so that again + he sank back cowed. Then resuming the calm with which hitherto I had + addressed him, “Your cupidity,” said I, “your greed for the estates of + Bardelys, and your jealousy and thirst to see me impoverished and so + ousted from my position at Court, to leave you supreme in His Majesty's + favour, have put you to strange shifts for a gentleman, Chatellerault. + Yet, wait.” + </p> + <p> + And, dipping my pen in the ink-horn, I began to write. I was conscious of + his eyes upon me, and I could imagine his surmisings and bewildered + speculations as my pen scratched rapidly across the paper. In a few + moments it was done, and I tossed the pen aside. I took up the sandbox. + </p> + <p> + “When a man cheats, Monsieur le Comte, and is detected, he is invariably + adjudged the loser of his stakes. On that count alone everything that you + have is now mine by rights.” Again I had to quell an interruption. “But if + we wave that point, and proceed upon the supposition that you have dealt + fairly and honourably with me, why, then, monsieur, you have still + sufficient evidence—the word of Mademoiselle, herself, in fact—that + I have won my wager. And so, if we take this, the most lenient view of the + case”—I paused to sprinkle the sand over my writing—“your + estates are still lost to you, and pass to be my property.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they, by God?” he roared, unable longer to restrain himself, and + leaping to his feet. “You have done, have you not? You have said all that + you can call to mind? You have flung insults and epithets at me enough to + earn the cutting of a dozen throats. You have dubbed me cheat and thief”—he + choked in his passion—“until you have had your fill—is it not + so? Now, listen to me, Master Bardelys, master spy, master buffoon, master + masquerader! What manner of proceeding was yours to go to Lavedan under a + false name? How call you that? Was that, perhaps, not cheating?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur, it was not,” I answered quietly. “It was in the terms of + your challenge that I was free to go to Lavedan in what guise I listed, + employing what wiles I pleased. But let that be,” I ended, and, creasing + the paper, I poured the sand back into the box, and dusted the document. + “The point is hardly worth discussing at this time of day. If not one way, + why, then, in another, your wager is lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it?” He set his arms akimbo and eyed me derisively, his thick-set + frame planted squarely before me. “You are satisfied that it is so? Quite + satisfied, eh?” He leered in my face. “Why, then, Monsieur le Marquis, we + will see whether a few inches of steel will win it back for me.” And once + more his hand flew to his hilt. + </p> + <p> + Rising, I flung the document I had accomplished upon the table. “Glance + first at that,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He stopped to look at me in inquiry, my manner sowing so great a curiosity + in him that his passion was all scattered before it. Then he stepped up to + the table and lifted the paper. As he read, his hand shook, amazement + dilated his eyes and furrowed his brow. + </p> + <p> + “What—what does it signify?” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + “It signifies that, although fully conscious of having won, I prefer to + acknowledge that I have lost. I make over to you thus my estates of + Bardelys, because, monsieur, I have come to realize that that wager was an + infamous one—one in which a gentleman should have had no part—and + the only atonement I can make to myself, my honour, and the lady whom we + insulted—is that.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand,” he complained. + </p> + <p> + “I apprehend your difficulty, Comte. The point is a nice one. But + understand at least that my Picardy estates are yours. Only, monsieur, you + will be well advised to make your will forthwith, for you are not + destined, yourself, to enjoy them.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me, his glance charged with inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “His Majesty,” I continued, in answer to his glance, “is ordering your + arrest for betraying the trust he had reposed in you and for perverting + the ends of justice to do your own private murdering.” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu!” he cried, falling of a sudden unto a most pitiful affright. + “The King knows?” + </p> + <p> + “Knows?” I laughed. “In the excitement of these other matters you have + forgotten to ask how I come to be at liberty. I have been to the King, + monsieur, and I have told him what has taken place here at Toulouse, and + how I was to have gone to the block tomorrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Scelerat!” he cried. “You have ruined me!” Rage and grief were blent in + his accents. He stood before me, livid of face and with hands clenching + and unclenching at his sides. + </p> + <p> + “Did you expect me to keep such a matter silent? Even had I been so + inclined it had not been easy, for His Majesty had questions to ask me. + From what the King said, monsieur, you may count upon mounting the + scaffold in my stead. So be advised, and make your will without delay, if + you would have your heirs enjoy my Picardy chateau.” + </p> + <p> + I have seen terror and anger distort men's countenances, but never have I + seen aught to compare with the disorder of Chatellerault at that moment. + He stamped and raved and fumed. He poured forth a thousand ordures of + speech in his frenzy; he heaped insults upon me and imprecations upon the + King, whose lapdog he pronounced me. His short, stout frame was quivering + with passion and fear, his broad face distorted by his hideous grimaces of + rage. And then, while yet his ravings were in full flow, the door opened, + and in stepped the airy Chevalier de Saint-Eustache. + </p> + <p> + He stood still, amazed, beneath the lintel—marvelling to see all + this anger, and abashed at beholding me. His sudden appearance reminded me + that I had last seen him at Grenade in the Count's company, on the day of + my arrest. The surprise it had occasioned me now returned upon seeing him + so obviously and intimately seeking Chatellerault. + </p> + <p> + The Count turned on him in his anger. + </p> + <p> + “Well, popinjay?” he roared. “What do you want with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Comte!” cried the other, in blent indignation and reproach. + </p> + <p> + “You will perceive that you are come inopportunely,” I put in. “Monsieur + de Chatellerault is not quite himself.” + </p> + <p> + But my speech again drew his attention to my presence; and the wonder grew + in his eyes at finding me there, for to him I was still Lesperon the + rebel, and he marvelled naturally that I should be at large. + </p> + <p> + Then in the corridor there was a sound of steps and voices, and as I + turned I beheld in the doorway, behind Saint-Eustache, the faces of + Castelroux, Mironsac, and my old acquaintance, the babbling, irresponsible + buffoon, La Fosse. From Mironsac he had heard of my presence in Toulouse, + and, piloted by Castelroux, they were both come to seek me out. I'll swear + it was not thus they had looked to find me. + </p> + <p> + They pushed their way into the room, impelling Saint-Eustache forward, and + there were greetings exchanged and felicitations, whilst Chatellerault, + curbing his disorder, drew the Chevalier into a corner of the room, and + stood there listening to him. + </p> + <p> + At length I heard the Count exclaim— + </p> + <p> + “Do as you please, Chevalier. If you have interests of your own to serve, + serve them. As for myself—I am past being interested.” + </p> + <p> + “But why, monsieur?” the chevalier inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” echoed Chatellerault, his ferocity welling up again. Then, swinging + round, he came straight at me, as a bull makes a charge. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Bardelys!” he blazed. + </p> + <p> + “Bardelys!” gasped Saint-Eustache in the background. + </p> + <p> + “What now?” I inquired coldly, turning from my friends. + </p> + <p> + “All that you said may be true, and I may be doomed, but I swear before + God that you shall not go unpunished.” + </p> + <p> + “I think, monsieur, that you run a grave risk of perjuring yourself!” I + laughed. + </p> + <p> + “You shall render me satisfaction ere we part!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “If you do not deem that paper satisfaction enough, then, monsieur, + forgive me, but your greed transcends all possibility of being ever + satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil take your paper and your estates! What shall they profit me + when I am dead?” + </p> + <p> + “They may profit your heirs,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “How shall that profit me?” + </p> + <p> + “That is a riddle that I cannot pretend to elucidate.” + </p> + <p> + “You laugh, you knave!” he snorted. Then, with an abrupt change of manner, + “You do not lack for friends,” said he. “Beg one of these gentlemen to act + for you, and if you are a man of honour let us step out into the yard and + settle the matter.” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. + </p> + <p> + “I am so much a man of honour as to be careful with whom I cross steel. I + prefer to leave you to His Majesty's vengeance; his headsman may be less + particular than am I. No, monsieur, on the whole, I do not think that I + can fight you.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +His face grew a shade paler. It became grey; the jaw was set, and the +eyes were more out of symmetry than I had ever seen them. Their glance +approached what is known in Italy as the mal'occhio, and to protect +themselves against the baneful influences of which men carry charms. A +moment he stood so, eyeing me. Then, coming a step nearer— + + “You do not think that you can fight me, eh? You do not think it? +Pardieu! How shall I make you change your mind? To the insult of words +you appear impervious. You imagine your courage above dispute because by +a lucky accident you killed La Vertoile some years ago and the fame of +it has attached to you.” In the intensity of his anger he was breathing +heavily, like a man overburdened. “You have been living ever since by +the reputation which that accident gave you. Let us see if you can die +by it, Monsieur de Bardelys.” And, leaning forward, he struck me on +the breast, so suddenly and so powerfully—for he was a man of abnormal +strength—that I must have fallen but that La Fosse caught me in his +arms. +</pre> + <p> + “Kill him!” lisped the classic-minded fool. “Play Theseus to this bull of + Marathon.” + </p> + <p> + Chatellerault stood back, his hands on his hips, his head inclined towards + his right shoulder, and an insolent leer of expectancy upon his face. + </p> + <p> + “Will that resolve you?” he sneered. + </p> + <p> + “I will meet you,” I answered, when I had recovered breath. “But I swear + that I shall not help you to escape the headsman.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed harshly. + </p> + <p> + “Do I not know it?” he mocked. “How shall killing you help me to escape? + Come, messieurs, sortons. At once!” + </p> + <p> + “Sor,” I answered shortly; and thereupon we crowded from the room, and + went pele-mele down the passage to the courtyard at the back. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. SWORDS! + </h2> + <p> + La Fosse led the way with me, his arm through mine, swearing that he would + be my second. He had such a stomach for a fight, had this irresponsible, + irrepressible rhymester, that it mounted to the heights of passion with + him, and when I mentioned, in answer to a hint dropped in connection with + the edict, that I had the King's sanction for this combat, he was nearly + mad with joy. + </p> + <p> + “Blood of La Fosse!” was his oath. “The honour to stand by you shall be + mine, my Bardelys! You owe it me, for am I not in part to blame for all + this ado? Nay, you'll not deny me. That gentleman yonder, with the + wild-cat moustaches and a name like a Gascon oath—that cousin of + Mironsac's, I mean—has the flair of a fight in his nostrils, and a + craving to be in it. But you'll grant me the honour, will you not? + Pardieu! It will earn me a place in history.” + </p> + <p> + “Or the graveyard,” quoth I, by way of cooling his ardour. + </p> + <p> + “Peste! What an augury!” Then, with a laugh: “But,” he added, indicating + Saint-Eustache, “that long, lean saint—I forget of what he is patron—hardly + wears a murderous air.” + </p> + <p> + To win peace from him, I promised that he should stand by me. But the + favour lost much of its value in his eyes when presently I added that I + did not wish the seconds to engage, since the matter was of so very + personal a character. + </p> + <p> + Mironsac and Castelroux, assisted by Saint-Eustache, closed the heavy + portecochere, and so shut us in from the observation of passers-by. The + clanging of those gates brought the landlord and a couple of his knaves, + and we were subjected to the prayers and intercessions, to the stormings + and ravings that are ever the prelude of a stable-yard fight, but which + invariably end, as these ended, in the landlord's withdrawal to run for + help to the nearest corps-de-garde. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my myrmillones,” cried La Fosse in bloodthirsty jubilation, “to work + before the host returns.” + </p> + <p> + “Po' Cap de Dieu!” growled Castelroux, “is this a time for jests, master + joker?” + </p> + <p> + “Jests?” I heard him retorting, as he assisted me to doff my doublet. “Do + I jest? Diable! you Gascons are a slow-witted folk! I have a taste for + allegory, my friend, but that never yet was accounted so low a thing as + jesting.” + </p> + <p> + At last we were ready, and I shifted the whole of my attention to the + short, powerful figure of Chatellerault as he advanced upon me, stripped + to the waist, his face set and his eyes full of stern resolve. Despite his + low stature, and the breadth of frame which argue sluggish motion, there + was something very formidable about the Count. His bared arms were great + masses of muscular flesh, and if his wrist were but half as supple as it + looked powerful, that alone should render him a dangerous antagonist. + </p> + <p> + Yet I had no qualm of fear, no doubt, even, touching the issue. Not that I + was an habitual ferrailleur. As I have indicated, I had fought but one man + in all my life. Nor yet am I of those who are said to know no fear under + any circumstances. Such men are not truly brave; they are stupid and + unimaginative, in proof of which I will advance the fact that you may + incite a timid man to deeds of reckless valour by drugging him with wine. + But this is by the way. It may be that the very regular fencing practice + that in Paris I was wont to take may so have ordered my mind that the fact + of meeting unbaited steel had little power to move me. + </p> + <p> + Be that as it may, I engaged the Count without a tremor either of the + flesh or of the spirit. I was resolved to wait and let him open the play, + that I might have an opportunity of measuring his power and seeing how + best I might dispose of him. I was determined to do him no hurt, and to + leave him, as I had sworn, to the headsman; and so, either by pressure or + by seizure, it was my aim to disarm him. + </p> + <p> + But on his side also he entered upon the duel with all caution and + wariness. From his rage I had hoped for a wild, angry rush that should + afford me an easy opportunity of gaining my ends with him. Not so, + however. Now that he came with steel to defend his life and to seek mine, + he appeared to have realized the importance of having keen wits to guide + his hand; and so he put his anger from him, and emerged calm and + determined from his whilom disorder. + </p> + <p> + Some preliminary passes we made from the first engagement in the lines of + tierce, each playing warily for an opening, yet neither of us giving + ground or betraying haste or excitement. Now his blade slithered on mine + with a ceaseless tremor; his eyes watched mine from under lowering brows, + and with knees bent he crouched like a cat making ready for a spring. Then + it came. Sudden as lightning was his disengage; he darted under my guard, + then over it, then back and under it again, and stretching out in the + lunge—his double-feint completed—he straightened his arm to + drive home the botte. + </p> + <p> + But with a flying point I cleared his blade out of the line of my body. + There had been two sharp tinkles of our meeting swords, and now + Chatellerault stood at his fullest stretch, the half of his steel past and + behind me, for just a fraction of time completely at my mercy. Yet I was + content to stand, and never move my blade from his until he had recovered + and we were back in our first position once again. + </p> + <p> + I heard the deep bass of Castelroux's “Mordieux!” the sharp gasp of fear + from Saint-Eustache, who already in imagination beheld his friend + stretched lifeless on the ground, and the cry of mortification from La + Fosse as the Count recovered. But I heeded these things little. As I have + said, to kill the Count was not my object. It had been wise, perhaps, in + Chatellerault to have appreciated that fact; but he did not. From the + manner in which he now proceeded to press me, I was assured that he set + his having recovered guard to slowness on my part, never thinking of the + speed that had been necessary to win myself such an opening as I had + obtained. + </p> + <p> + My failure to run him through in that moment of jeopardy inspired him with + a contempt of my swordplay. This he now made plain by the recklessness + with which he fenced, in his haste to have done ere we might chance to be + interrupted. Of this recklessness I suddenly availed myself to make an + attempt at disarming him. I turned aside a vicious thrust by a close—a + dangerously close—parry, and whilst in the act of encircling his + blade I sought by pressure to carry it out of his hand. I was within an + ace of succeeding, yet he avoided me, and doubled back. + </p> + <p> + He realized then, perhaps, that I was not quite so contemptible an + antagonist as he had been imagining, and he went back to his earlier and + more cautious tactics. Then I changed my plans. I simulated an attack, and + drove him hard for some moments. Strong he was, but there were advantages + of reach and suppleness with me, and even these advantages apart, had I + aimed at his life, I could have made short work of him. But the game I + played was fraught with perils to myself, and once I was in deadly danger, + and as near death from the sword as a man may go and live. My attack had + lured him, as I desired that it should, into making a riposte. He did so, + and as his blade twisted round mine and came slithering at me, I again + carried it off by encircling it, and again I exerted pressure to deprive + him of it. But this time I was farther from success than before. He + laughed at the attempt, as with a suddenness that I had been far from + expecting he disengaged again, and his point darted like a snake upwards + at my throat. + </p> + <p> + I parried that thrust, but I only parried it when it was within some three + inches of my neck, and even as I turned it aside it missed me as narrowly + as it might without tearing my skin. The imminence of the peril had been + such that, as we mutually recovered, I found a cold sweat bathing me. + </p> + <p> + After that, I resolved to abandon the attempt to disarm him by pressure, + and I turned my attention to drawing him into a position that might lend + itself to seizure. But even as I was making up my mind to this—we + were engaged in sixte at the time—I saw a sudden chance. His point + was held low while he watched me; so low that his arm was uncovered and my + point was in line with it. To see the opening, to estimate it, and to take + my resolve was all the work of a fraction of a second. The next instant I + had straightened my elbow, my blade shot out in a lightning stroke and + transfixed his sword-arm. + </p> + <p> + There was a yell of pain, followed by a deep growl of fury, as, wounded + but not vanquished, the enraged Count caught his falling sword in his left + hand, and whilst my own blade was held tight in the bone of his right arm, + he sought to run me through. I leapt quickly aside, and then, before he + could renew the attempt, my friends had fallen upon him and wrenched his + sword from his hand and mine from his arm. + </p> + <p> + It would ill have become me to taunt a man in his sorry condition, else + might I now have explained to him what I had meant when I had promised to + leave him for the headsman even though I did consent to fight him. + </p> + <p> + Mironsac, Castelroux, and La Fosse stood babbling around me, but I paid no + heed either to Castelroux's patois or to La Fosse's misquotations of + classic authors. The combat had been protracted, and the methods I had + pursued had been of a very exhausting nature. I leaned now against the + porte-cochere, and mopped myself vigorously. Then Saint-Eustache, who was + engaged in binding up his principal's arm, called to La Fosse. + </p> + <p> + I followed my second with my eyes as he went across to Chatellerault. The + Count stood white, his lips compressed, no doubt from the pain his arm was + causing him. Then his voice floated across to me as he addressed La Fosse. + </p> + <p> + “You will do me the favour, monsieur, to inform your friend that this was + no first blood combat, but one a outrance. I fence as well with my left + arm as with my right, and if Monsieur de Bardelys will do me the honour to + engage again, I shall esteem it.” + </p> + <p> + La Fosse bowed and came over with the message that already we had heard. + </p> + <p> + “I fought,” said I in answer, “in a spirit very different from that by + which Monsieur de Chatellerault appears to have been actuated. He made it + incumbent upon me to afford proof of my courage. That proof I have + afforded; I decline to do more. Moreover, as Monsieur de Chatellerault + himself must perceive, the light is failing us, and in a few minutes it + will be too dark for sword-play.” + </p> + <p> + “In a few minutes there will be need for none, monsieur,” shouted + Chatellerault, to save time. He was boastful to the end. + </p> + <p> + “Here, monsieur, in any case, come those who will resolve the question,” I + answered, pointing to the door of the inn. + </p> + <p> + As I spoke, the landlord stepped into the yard, followed by an officer and + a half-dozen soldiers. These were no ordinary keepers of the peace, but + musketeers of the guard, and at sight of them I knew that their business + was not to interrupt a duel, but to arrest my erstwhile opponent upon a + much graver charge. + </p> + <p> + The officer advanced straight to Chatellerault. + </p> + <p> + “In the King's name, Monsieur le Comte,” said he. “I demand your sword.” + </p> + <p> + It may be that at bottom I was still a man of soft heart, unfeeling cynic + though they accounted me; for upon remarking the misery and gloom that + spread upon Chatellerault's face I was sorry for him, notwithstanding the + much that he had schemed against me. Of what his fate would be he could + have no shadow of doubt. He knew—none better—how truly the + King loved me, and how he would punish such an attempt as had been made + upon my life, to say nothing of the prostitution of justice of which he + had been guilty, and for which alone he had earned the penalty of death. + </p> + <p> + He stood a moment with bent head, the pain of his arm possibly forgotten + in the agony of his spirit. Then, straightening himself suddenly, with a + proud, half scornful air, he looked the officer straight between the eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You desire my sword, monsieur?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + The musketeer bowed respectfully. + </p> + <p> + “Saint-Eustache, will you do me the favour to give it to me?” + </p> + <p> + And while the Chevalier picked up the rapier from the ground where it had + been flung, that man waited with an outward calm for which at the moment I + admired him, as we must ever admire a tranquil bearing in one smitten by a + great adversity. And than this I can conceive few greater. He had played + for much, and he had lost everything. Ignominy, degradation, and the block + were all that impended for him in this world, and they were very imminent. + </p> + <p> + He took the sword from the Chevalier. He held it for a second by the hilt, + like one in thought, like one who is resolving upon something, whilst the + musketeer awaited his good pleasure with that deference which all gentle + minds must accord to the unfortunate. + </p> + <p> + Still holding his rapier, he raised his eyes for a second and let them + rest on me with a grim malevolence. Then he uttered a short laugh, and, + shrugging his shoulders, he transferred his grip to the blade, as if about + to offer the hilt to the officer. Holding it so, halfway betwixt point and + quillons, he stepped suddenly back, and before any there could put forth a + hand to stay him, he had set the pummel on the ground and the point at his + breast, and so dropped upon it and impaled himself. + </p> + <p> + A cry went up from every throat, and we sprang towards him. He rolled over + on his side, and with a grin of exquisite pain, yet in words of + unconquerable derision “You may have my sword now, Monsieur l'Officier,” + he said, and sank back, swooning. + </p> + <p> + With an oath, the musketeer stepped forward. He obeyed Chatellerault to + the letter, by kneeling beside him and carefully withdrawing the sword. + Then he ordered a couple of his men to take up the body. + </p> + <p> + “Is he dead?” asked some one; and some one else replied, “Not yet, but he + soon will be.” + </p> + <p> + Two of the musketeers bore him into the inn and laid him on the floor of + the very room in which, an hour or so ago, he had driven a bargain with + Roxalanne. A cloak rolled into a pillow was thrust under his head, and + there we left him in charge of his captors, the landlord, Saint-Eustache, + and La Fosse the latter inspired, I doubt not, by that morbidity which is + so often a feature of the poetic mind, and which impelled him now to + witness the death-agony of my Lord of Chatellerault. + </p> + <p> + Myself, having resumed my garments, I disposed myself to repair at once to + the Hotel de l'Epee, there to seek Roxalanne, that I might set her fears + and sorrows at rest, and that I might at last make my confession. + </p> + <p> + As we stepped out into the street, where the dusk was now thickening, I + turned to Castelroux to inquire how Saint-Eustache came into + Chatellerault's company. + </p> + <p> + “He is of the family of the Iscariot, I should opine,” answered the + Gascon. “As soon as he had news that Chatellerault was come to Languedoc + as the King's Commissioner, he repaired to him to offer his services in + the work of bringing rebels to justice. He urged that his thorough + acquaintance with the province should render him of value to the King, as + also that he had had particular opportunities of becoming acquainted with + many treasonable dealings on the part of men whom the State was far from + suspecting.” + </p> + <p> + “Mort Dieu!” I cried, “I had suspected something of such a nature. You do + well to call him of the family of the Iscariot. He is more so than you + imagine: I have knowledge of this—ample knowledge. He was until + lately a rebel himself, and himself a follower of Gaston d'Orleans—though + of a lukewarm quality. What reasons have driven him to such work, do you + know?” + </p> + <p> + “The same reason that impelled his forefather, Judas of old. The desire to + enrich himself. For every hitherto unsuspected rebel that shall be brought + to justice and whose treason shall be proven by his agency, he claims the + half of that rebel's confiscated estates.” + </p> + <p> + “Diable!” I exclaimed. “And does the Keeper of the Seals sanction this?” + </p> + <p> + “Sanction it? Saint-Eustache holds a commission, has a free hand and a + company of horse to follow him in his rebel-hunting.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he done much so far?” was my next question. + </p> + <p> + “He has reduced half a dozen noblemen and their families. The wealth he + must thereby have amassed should be very considerable, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, Castelroux, I will see the King in connection with this pretty + gentleman, and not only shall we find him a dungeon deep and dank, but we + shall see that he disgorges his blood-money.” + </p> + <p> + “If you can prove his treason you will be doing blessed work,” returned + Castelroux. “Until tomorrow, then, for here is the Hotel de l'Epee.” + </p> + <p> + From the broad doorway of an imposing building a warm glow of light issued + out and spread itself fanwise across the ill-paved street. In this—like + bats about a lamp—flitted the black figures of gaping urchins and + other stragglers, and into this I now passed, having taken leave of my + companions. + </p> + <p> + I mounted the steps and I was about to cross the threshold, when suddenly + above a burst of laughter that greeted my ears I caught the sound of a + singularly familiar voice. This seemed raised at present to address such + company as might be within. One moment of doubt had I—for it was a + month since last I had heard those soft, unctuous accents. Then I was + assured that the voice I heard was, indeed, the voice of my steward + Ganymede. Castelroux's messenger had found him at last, it seemed, and had + brought him to Toulouse. + </p> + <p> + I was moved to spring into the room and greet that old retainer for whom, + despite the gross and sensuous ways that with advancing years were + claiming him more and more, I had a deep attachment. But even as I was on + the point of entering, not only his voice, but the very words that he was + uttering floated out to my ears, and they were of a quality that held me + there to play the hidden listener for the second time in my life in one + and the same day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. THE BABBLING OF GANYMEDE + </h2> + <p> + Never until that hour, as I stood in the porch of the Hotel de l'Epee, + hearkening to my henchman's narrative and to the bursts of laughter which + ever and anon it provoked from his numerous listeners, had I dreamed of + the raconteur talents which Rodenard might boast. Yet was I very far from + being appreciative now that I discovered them, for the story that he told + was of how one Marcel Saint-Pol, Marquis de Bardelys, had laid a wager + with the Comte de Chatellerault that he would woo and win Mademoiselle de + Lavedan to wife within three months. Nor did he stop there. Rodenard, it + would seem, was well informed; he had drawn all knowledge of the state of + things from Castelroux's messenger, and later—I know not from whom—at + Toulouse, since his arrival. + </p> + <p> + He regaled the company, therefore, with a recital of our finding the dying + Lesperon, and of how I had gone off alone, and evidently assumed the name + and role of that proscribed rebel, and thus conducted my wooing under + sympathy inspiring circumstances at Lavedan. Then came, he announced, the + very cream of the jest, when I was arrested as Lesperon and brought to + Toulouse and to trial in Lesperon's stead; he told them how I had been + sentenced to death in the other man's place, and he assured them that I + would certainly have been beheaded upon the morrow but that news had been + borne to him—Rodenard—of my plight, and he was come to deliver + me. + </p> + <p> + My first impulse upon hearing him tell of the wager had been to stride + into the room and silence him by my coming. That I did not obey that + impulse was something that presently I was very bitterly to regret. How it + came that I did not I scarcely know. I was tempted, perhaps, to see how + far this henchman whom for years I had trusted was unworthy of that trust. + And so, there in the porch, I stayed until he had ended by telling the + company that he was on his way to inform the King—who by great good + chance was that day arrived in Toulouse—of the mistake that had been + made, and thus obtain my immediate enlargement and earn my undying + gratitude. + </p> + <p> + Again I was on the point of entering to administer a very stern reproof to + that talkative rogue, when of a sudden there was a commotion within. I + caught a scraping of chairs, a dropping of voices, and then suddenly I + found myself confronted by Roxalanne de Lavedan herself, issuing with a + page and a woman in attendance. + </p> + <p> + For just a second her eyes rested on me, and the light coming through the + doorway at her back boldly revealed my countenance. And a very startled + countenance it must have been, for in that fraction of time I knew that + she had heard all that Rodenard had been relating. Under that instant's + glance of her eyes I felt myself turn pale; a shiver ran through me, and + the sweat started cold upon my brow. Then her gaze passed from me, and + looked beyond into the street, as though she had not known me; whether in + her turn she paled or reddened I cannot say, for the light was too + uncertain. Next followed what seemed to me an interminable pause, + although, indeed, it can have been no more than a matter of seconds—aye, + and of but few. Then, her gown drawn well aside, she passed me in that + same irrecognizing way, whilst I, abashed, shrank back into the shadows of + the porch, burning with shame and rage and humiliation. + </p> + <p> + From under her brows her woman glanced at me inquisitively; her liveried + page, his nose in the air, eyed me so pertly that I was hard put to it not + to hasten with my foot his descent of the steps. + </p> + <p> + At last they were gone, and from the outside the shrill voice of her page + was wafted to me. He was calling to the ostler for her carriage. Standing, + in my deep mortification, where she had passed me, I conjectured from that + demand that she was journeying to Lavedan. + </p> + <p> + She knew now how she had been cheated on every hand, first by me and + later, that very afternoon, by Chatellerault, and her resolve to quit + Toulouse could but signify that she was done with me for good. That it had + surprised her to find me at large already, I fancied I had seen in her + momentary glance, but her pride had been quick to conquer and stifle all + signs of that surprise. + </p> + <p> + I remained where she had passed me until her coach had rumbled away into + the night, and during the moments that elapsed I had stood arguing with + myself and resolving upon my course of action. But despair was fastening + upon me. + </p> + <p> + I had come to the Hotel de l'Epee, exulting, joyous, and confident of + victory. I had come to confess everything to her, and by virtue of what I + had done that confession was rendered easy. I could have said to her: “The + woman whom I wagered to win was not you, Roxalanne, but a certain + Mademoiselle de Lavedan. Your love I have won, but that you may foster no + doubts of my intentions, I have paid my wager and acknowledge defeat. I + have made over to Chatellerault and to his heirs for all time my estates + of Bardelys.” + </p> + <p> + Oh, I had rehearsed it in my mind, and I was confident—I knew—that + I should win her. And now—the disclosure of that shameful traffic + coming from other lips than mine had ruined everything by forestalling my + avowal. + </p> + <p> + Rodenard should pay for it—by God, he should! Once again did I + become a prey to the passion of anger which I have ever held to be + unworthy in a gentleman, but to which it would seem that I was growing + accustomed to give way. The ostler was mounting the steps at the moment. + He carried in his hand a stout horsewhip with a long knotted thong. + Hastily muttering a “By your leave,” I snatched it from him and sprang + into the room. + </p> + <p> + My intendant was still talking of me. The room was crowded, for Rodenard + alone had brought with him my twenty followers. One of these looked up as + I brushed past him, and uttered a cry of surprise upon recognizing me. But + Rodenard talked on, engrossed in his theme to the exclusion of all else. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur le Marquis,” he was saying, “is a gentleman whom it is, indeed, + an honour to serve—” + </p> + <p> + A scream burst from him with the last word, for the lash of my whip had + burnt a wheal upon his well-fed sides. + </p> + <p> + “It is an honour that shall be yours no more, you dog!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + He leapt high into the air as my whip cut him again. He swung round, his + face twisted with pain, his flabby cheeks white with fear, and his eyes + wild with anger, for as yet the full force of the situation had not been + borne in upon him. Then, seeing me there, and catching something of the + awful passion that must have been stamped upon my face, he dropped on his + knees and cried out something that I did not understand for I was past + understanding much just then. + </p> + <p> + The lash whistled through the air again and caught him about the + shoulders. He writhed and roared in his anguish of both flesh and spirit. + But I was pitiless. He had ruined my life for me with his talking, and, as + God lived, he should pay the only price that it lay in his power to pay—the + price of physical suffering. Again and again my whip hissed about his head + and cut into his soft white flesh, whilst roaring for mercy he moved and + rocked on his knees before me. Instinctively he approached me to hamper my + movements, whilst I moved back to give my lash the better play. He held + out his arms and joined his fat hands in supplication, but the lash caught + them in its sinuous tormenting embrace, and started a red wheal across + their whiteness. He tucked them into his armpits with a scream, and fell + prone upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + Then I remember that some of my men essayed to restrain me, which to my + passion was as the wind to a blaze. I cracked my whip about their heads, + commanding them to keep their distance lest they were minded to share his + castigation. And so fearful an air must I have worn, that, daunted, they + hung back and watched their leader's punishment in silence. + </p> + <p> + When I think of it now, I take no little shame at the memory of how I beat + him. It is, indeed, with deep reluctance and yet deeper shame that I have + brought myself to write of it. If I offend you with this account of that + horsewhipping, let necessity be my apology; for the horsewhipping itself I + have, unfortunately, no apology, save the blind fury that obsessed me—which + is no apology at all. + </p> + <p> + Upon the morrow I repented me already with much bitterness. But in that + hour I knew no reason. I was mad, and of my madness was born this harsh + brutality. + </p> + <p> + “You would talk of me and my affairs in a tavern, you hound!” I cried, out + of breath both by virtue of my passion and my exertions. “Let the memory + of this act as a curb upon your poisonous tongue in future.” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur!” he screamed. “Misericorde, monseigneur!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, you shall have mercy—just so much mercy as you deserve. Have I + trusted you all these years, and did my father trust you before me, for + this? Have you grown sleek and fat and smug in my service that you should + requite me thus? Sangdieu, Rodenard! My father had hanged you for the half + of the talking that you have done this night. You dog! You miserable + knave!” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he shrieked again, “forgive! For your sainted mother's + sake, forgive! Monseigneur, I did not know—” + </p> + <p> + “But you are learning, cur; you are learning by the pain of your fat + carcase; is it not so, carrion?” + </p> + <p> + He sank down, his strength exhausted, a limp, moaning, bleeding mass of + flesh, into which my whip still cut relentlessly. + </p> + <p> + I have a picture in my mind of that ill-lighted room, of the startled + faces on which the flickering glimmer of the candles shed odd shadows; of + the humming and cracking of my whip; of my own voice raised in oaths and + epithets of contempt; of Rodenard's screams; of the cries raised here and + there in remonstrance or in entreaty, and of some more bold that called + shame upon me. Then others took up that cry of “Shame!” so that at last I + paused and stood there drawn up to my full height, as if in challenge. + Towering above the heads of any in that room, I held my whip menacingly. I + was unused to criticism, and their expressions of condemnation roused me. + </p> + <p> + “Who questions my right?” I demanded arrogantly, whereupon they one and + all fell silent. “If any here be bold enough to step out, he shall have my + answer.” Then, as none responded, I signified my contempt for them by a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur!” wailed Rodenard at my feet, his voice growing feeble. + </p> + <p> + By way of answer, I gave him a final cut, then I flung the whip— + which had grown ragged in the fray—back to the ostler from whom I + had borrowed it. + </p> + <p> + “Let that suffice you, Rodenard,” I said, touching him with my foot. “See + that I never set eyes upon you again, if you cherish your miserable life!” + </p> + <p> + “Not that, monseigneur.” groaned the wretch. “Oh, not that! You have + punished me; you have whipped me until I cannot stand; forgive me, + monseigneur, forgive me now!” + </p> + <p> + “I have forgiven you, but I never wish to see you again, lest I should + forget that I have forgiven you. Take him away, some of you,” I bade my + men, and in swift, silent obedience two of them stepped forward and bore + the groaning, sobbing fellow from the room. When that was done “Host,” I + commanded, “prepare me a room. Attend me, a couple of you.” + </p> + <p> + I gave orders thereafter for the disposal of my baggage, some of which my + lacqueys brought up to the chamber that the landlord had in haste made + ready for me. In that chamber I sat until very late; a prey to the utmost + misery and despair. My rage being spent, I might have taken some thought + for poor Ganymede and his condition, but my own affairs crowded + over-heavily upon my mind, and sat the undisputed rulers of my thoughts + that night. + </p> + <p> + At one moment I considered journeying to Lavedan, only to dismiss the idea + the next. What could it avail me now? Would Roxalanne believe the tale I + had to tell? Would she not think, naturally enough, that I was but making + the best of the situation, and that my avowal of the truth of a story + which it was not in my power to deny was not spontaneous, but forced from + me by circumstances? No, there was nothing more to be done. A score of + amours had claimed my attention in the past and received it; yet there was + not one of those affairs whose miscarriage would have afforded me the + slightest concern or mortification. It seemed like an irony, like a Dies + ire, that it should have been left to this first true passion of my life + to have gone awry. + </p> + <p> + I slept ill when at last I sought my bed, and through the night I nursed + my bitter grief, huddling to me the corpse of the love she had borne me as + a mother may the corpse of her first-born. + </p> + <p> + On the morrow I resolved to leave Toulouse—to quit this province + wherein so much had befallen me and repair to Beaugency, there to grow old + in misanthropical seclusion. I had done with Courts, I had done with love + and with women; I had done, it seemed to me, with life itself. Prodigal + had it been in gifts that I had not sought of it. It had spread my table + with the richest offerings, but they had been little to my palate, and I + had nauseated quickly. And now, when here in this remote corner of France + it had shown me the one prize I coveted, it had been swift to place it + beyond my reach, thereby sowing everlasting discontent and misery in my + hitherto pampered heart. + </p> + <p> + I saw Castelroux that day, but I said no word to him of my affliction. He + brought me news of Chatellerault. The Count was lying in a dangerous + condition at the Auberge Royale, and might not be moved. The physician + attending him all but despaired of his life. + </p> + <p> + “He is asking to see you,” said Castelroux. + </p> + <p> + But I was not minded to respond. For all that he had deeply wronged me, + for all that I despised him very cordially, the sight of him in his + present condition might arouse my pity, and I was in no mood to waste upon + such a one as Chatellerault even on his deathbed—a quality of which + I had so dire a need just then for my own case. + </p> + <p> + “I will not go,” said I, after deliberation. “Tell him from me that I + forgive him freely if it be that he seeks my forgiveness; tell him that I + bear him no rancour, and—that he had better make his will, to save + me trouble hereafter, if he should chance to die.” + </p> + <p> + I said this because I had no mind, if he should perish intestate, to go in + quest of his next heirs and advise them that my late Picardy estates were + now their property. + </p> + <p> + Castelroux sought yet to persuade me to visit the Count, but I held firmly + to my resolve. + </p> + <p> + “I am leaving Toulouse to-day,” I announced. + </p> + <p> + “Whither do you go?” + </p> + <p> + “To hell, or to Beaugency—I scarce know which, nor does it matter.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me in surprise, but, being a man of breeding, asked no + questions upon matters that he accounted secret. + </p> + <p> + “But the King?” he ventured presently. + </p> + <p> + “His Majesty has already dispensed me from my duties by him.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, I did not go that day. I maintained the intention until + sunset; then, seeing that it was too late, I postponed my departure until + the morrow. I can assign no reason for my dallying mood. Perhaps it sprang + from the inertness that pervaded me, perhaps some mysterious hand detained + me. Be that as it may, that I remained another night at the Hotel de + l'Epee was one of those contingencies which, though slight and seemingly + inconsequential in themselves, lead to great issues. Had I departed that + day for Beaugency, it is likely that you had never heard of me—leastways, + not from my own pen—for in what so far I have told you, without that + which is to follow, there is haply little that was worth the labour of + setting down. + </p> + <p> + In the morning, then, I set out; but having started late, we got no + farther than Grenade, where we lay the night once more at the Hotel de la + Couronne. And so, through having delayed my departure by a single day, did + it come to pass that a message reached me before it might have been too + late. + </p> + <p> + It was high noon of the morrow. Our horses stood saddled; indeed, some of + my men were already mounted—for I was not minded to disband them + until Beaugency was reached—and my two coaches were both ready for + the journey. The habits of a lifetime are not so easy to abandon even when + Necessity raises her compelling voice. + </p> + <p> + I was in the act of settling my score with the landlord when of a sudden + there were quick steps in the passage, the clank of a rapier against the + wall, and a voice—the voice of Castelroux—calling excitedly + “Bardelys! Monsieur de Bardelys!” + </p> + <p> + “What brings you here?” I cried in greeting, as he stepped into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Are you still for Beaugency?” he asked sharply, throwing back his head. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” I answered, wondering at this excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Then you have seen nothing of Saint-Eustache and his men?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet they must have passed this way not many hours ago.” Then tossing his + hat on the table and speaking with sudden vehemence: “If you have any + interest in the family of Lavedan, you will return upon the instant to + Toulouse.” + </p> + <p> + The mention of Lavedan was enough to quicken my pulses. Yet in the past + two days I had mastered resignation, and in doing that we school ourselves + to much restraint. I turned slowly, and surveyed the little Captain + attentively. His black eyes sparkled, and his moustaches bristled with + excitement. Clearly he had news of import. I turned to the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “Leave us, Monsieur l'Hote,” said I shortly; and when he had departed, + “What of the Lavedan family, Castelroux?” I inquired as calmly as I might. + </p> + <p> + “The Chevalier de Saint-Eustache left Toulouse at six o'clock this morning + for Lavedan.” + </p> + <p> + Swift the suspicion of his errand broke upon my mind. + </p> + <p> + “He has betrayed the Vicomte?” I half inquired, half asserted. + </p> + <p> + Castelroux nodded. “He has obtained a warrant for his apprehension from + the Keeper of the Seals, and is gone to execute it. In the course of a few + days Lavedan will be in danger of being no more than a name. This + Saint-Eustache is driving a brisk trade, by God, and some fine prizes have + already fallen to his lot. But if you add them all together, they are not + likely to yield as much as this his latest expedition. Unless you + intervene, Bardelys, the Vicomte de Lavedan is doomed and his family + houseless.” + </p> + <p> + “I will intervene,” I cried. “By God, I will! And as for Saint-Eustache—he + was born under a propitious star, indeed, if he escapes the gallows. He + little dreams that I am still to be reckoned with. There, Castelroux, I + will start for Lavedan at once.” + </p> + <p> + Already I was striding to the door, when the Gascon called me back. + </p> + <p> + “What good will that do?” he asked. “Were it not better first to return to + Toulouse and obtain a counter-warrant from the King?” + </p> + <p> + There was wisdom in his words—much wisdom. But my blood was afire, + and I was in too hot a haste to reason. + </p> + <p> + “Return to Toulouse?” I echoed scornfully. “A waste of time, Captain. No, + I will go straight to Lavedan. I need no counter-warrant. I know too much + of this Chevalier's affairs, and my very presence should be enough to stay + his hand. He is as foul a traitor as you'll find in France; but for the + moment God bless him for a very opportune knave. Gilles!” I called, + throwing wide the door. “Gilles!” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he answered, hastening to me. + </p> + <p> + “Put back the carriages and saddle me a horse,” I commanded. “And bid your + fellows mount at once and await me in the courtyard. We are not going to + Beaugency, Gilles. We ride north—to Lavedan.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. SAINT-EUSTACHE IS OBSTINATE + </h2> + <p> + On the occasion of my first visit to Lavedan I had disregarded—or, + rather, Fate had contrived that I should disregard—Chatellerault's + suggestion that I should go with all the panoply of power—with my + followers, my liveries, and my equipages to compose the magnificence all + France had come to associate with my name, and thus dazzle by my brilliant + lustre the lady I was come to win. As you may remember, I had crept into + the chateau like a thief in the night,—wounded, bedraggled, and of + miserable aspect, seeking to provoke compassion rather than admiration. + </p> + <p> + Not so now that I made my second visit. I availed myself of all the + splendour to which I owed my title of “Magnificent,” and rode into the + courtyard of the Chateau de Lavedan preceded by twenty well-mounted knaves + wearing the gorgeous Saint-Pol liveries of scarlet and gold, with the + Bardelys escutcheon broidered on the breasts of their doublets—on a + field or a bar azure surcharged by three lilies of the field. They were + armed with swords and musketoons, and had more the air of a royal + bodyguard than of a company of attendant servants. + </p> + <p> + Our coming was in a way well timed. I doubt if we could have stayed the + execution of Saint-Eustache's warrant even had we arrived earlier. But for + effect—to produce a striking coup de theatre—we could not have + come more opportunely. + </p> + <p> + A coach stood in the quadrangle, at the foot of the chateau steps: down + these the Vicomte was descending, with the Vicomtesse—grim and + blasphemant as ever, on one side, and his daughter, white of face and with + tightly compressed lips, on the other. Between these two women—his + wife and his child—as different in body as they were different in + soul, came Lavedan with a firm step, a good colour, and a look of + well-bred, lofty indifference to his fate. + </p> + <p> + He disposed himself to enter the carriage which was to bear him to prison + with much the same air he would have assumed had his destination been a + royal levee. + </p> + <p> + Around the coach were grouped a score of men of Saint-Eustache's company—half + soldiers, half ploughboys—ill-garbed and indifferently accoutred in + dull breastplates and steel caps, many of which were rusted. By the + carriage door stood the long, lank figure of the Chevalier himself, + dressed with his wonted care, and perfumed, curled, and beribboned beyond + belief. His weak, boyish face sought by scowls and by the adoption of a + grim smile to assume an air of martial ferocity. + </p> + <p> + Such was the grouping in the quadrangle when my men, with Gilles at their + head, thundered across the drawbridge, giving pause to those within, and + drawing upon themselves the eyes of all, as they rode, two by two, under + the old-world arch of the keep into the courtyard. And Gilles, who knew + our errand, and who was as ready-witted a rogue as ever rode with me, took + in the situation at a glance. Knowing how much I desired to make a goodly + show, he whispered an order. This resulted in the couples dividing at the + gateway, one going to the left and one to the right, so that as they came + they spread themselves in a crescent, and drawing rein, they faced + forward, confronting and half surrounding the Chevalier's company. + </p> + <p> + As each couple appeared, the curiosity—the uneasiness, probably—of + Saint-Eustache and his men, had increased, and their expectancy was on + tiptoe to see what lord it was went abroad with such regal pomp, when I + appeared in the gateway and advanced at the trot into the middle of the + quadrangle. There I drew rein and doffed my hat to them as they stood, + open-mouthed and gaping one and all. If it was a theatrical display, a + parade worthy of a tilt-ground, it was yet a noble and imposing advent, + and their gaping told me that it was not without effect. The men looked + uneasily at the Chevalier; the Chevalier looked uneasily at his men; + mademoiselle, very pale, lowered her eyes and pressed her lips yet more + tightly; the Vicomtesse uttered an oath of astonishment; whilst Lavedan, + too dignified to manifest surprise, greeted me with a sober bow. + </p> + <p> + Behind them on the steps I caught sight of a group of domestics, old + Anatole standing slightly in advance of his fellows, and wondering, no + doubt, whether this were, indeed, the bedraggled Lesperon of a little + while ago—for if I had thought of pomp in the display of my + lacqueys, no less had I considered it in the decking of my own person. + Without any of the ribbons and fopperies that mark the coxcomb, yet was I + clad, plumed, and armed with a magnificence such as I'll swear had not + been seen within the grey walls of that old castle in the lifetime of any + of those that were now present. + </p> + <p> + Gilles leapt from his horse as I drew rein, and hastened to hold my + stirrup, with a murmured “Monsieur,” which title drew a fresh astonishment + into the eyes of the beholders. + </p> + <p> + I advanced leisurely towards Saint-Eustache, and addressed him with such + condescension as I might a groom, to impress and quell a man of this type + your best weapon is the arrogance that a nobler spirit would resent. + </p> + <p> + “A world of odd meetings this, Saint-Eustache,” I smiled disdainfully. “A + world of strange comings and goings, and of strange transformations. The + last time we were here we stood mutually as guests of Monsieur le Vicomte; + at present you appear to be officiating as a—a tipstaff.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” He coloured, and he uttered the word in accents of awakening + resentment. I looked into his eyes, coldly, impassively, as if waiting to + hear what he might have to add, and so I stayed until his glance fell and + his spirit was frozen in him. He knew me, and he knew how much I was to be + feared. A word from me to the King might send him to the wheel. It was + upon this I played. Presently, as his eye fell, “Is your business with me, + Monsieur de Bardelys?” he asked, and at that utterance of my name there + was a commotion on the steps, whilst the Vicomte started, and his eyes + frowned upon me, and the Vicomtesse looked up suddenly to scan me with a + fresh interest. She beheld at last in the flesh the gentleman who had + played so notorious a part, ten years ago, in that scandal connected with + the Duchesse de Bourgogne, of which she never tired of reciting the + details. And think that she had sat at table with him day by day and been + unconscious of that momentous fact! Such, I make no doubt, was what passed + through her mind at the moment, and, to judge from her expression, I + should say that the excitement of beholding the Magnificent Bardelys had + for the nonce eclipsed beholding even her husband's condition and the + imminent sequestration of Lavedan. + </p> + <p> + “My business is with you, Chevalier,” said I. “It relates to your mission + here.” + </p> + <p> + His jaw fell. “You wish—?” + </p> + <p> + “To desire you to withdraw your men and quit Lavedan at once, abandoning + the execution of your warrant.” + </p> + <p> + He flashed me a look of impotent hate. “You know of the existence of my + warrant, Monsieur de Bardelys, and you must therefore realize that a royal + mandate alone can exempt me from delivering Monsieur de Lavedan to the + Keeper of the Seals.” + </p> + <p> + “My only warrant,” I answered, somewhat baffled, but far from abandoning + hope, “is my word. You shall say to the Garde des Sceaux that you have + done this upon the authority of the Marquis de Bardelys, and you have my + promise that His Majesty shall confirm my action.” + </p> + <p> + In saying that I said too much, as I was quickly to realize. + </p> + <p> + “His Majesty will confirm it, monsieur?” he said interrogatively, and he + shook his head. “That is a risk I dare not run. My warrant sets me under + imperative obligations which I must discharge—you will see the + justice of what I state.” + </p> + <p> + His tone was all humility, all subservience, nevertheless it was firm to + the point of being hard. But my last card, the card upon which I was + depending, was yet to be played. + </p> + <p> + “Will you do me the honour to step aside with me, Chevalier?” I commanded + rather than besought. + </p> + <p> + “At your service, sir,” said he; and I drew him out of earshot of those + others. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Saint-Eustache, we can talk,” said I, with an abrupt change of + manner from the coldly arrogant to the coldly menacing. “I marvel greatly + at your temerity in pursuing this Iscariot business after learning who I + am, at Toulouse two nights ago.” + </p> + <p> + He clenched his hands, and his weak face hardened. + </p> + <p> + “I would beg you to consider your expressions, monsieur, and to control + them,” said he in a thick voice. + </p> + <p> + I vouchsafed him a stare of freezing amazement. “You will no doubt remember + in what capacity I find you employed. Nay, keep your hands still, + Saint-Eustache. I don't fight catchpolls, and if you give me trouble my + men are yonder.” And I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “And now to + business. I am not minded to talk all day. I was saying that I marvel at + your temerity, and more particularly at your having laid information + against Monsieur de Lavedan, and having come here to arrest him, knowing, + as you must know, that I am interested in the Vicomte.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard of that interest, monsieur,” said he, with a sneer for which + I could have struck him. + </p> + <p> + “This act of yours,” I pursued, ignoring his interpolation, “savours very + much of flying in the face of Destiny. It almost seems to me as if you + were defying me.” + </p> + <p> + His lip trembled, and his eyes shunned my glance. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed—indeed, monsieur—” he was protesting, when I cut him + short. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot be so great a fool but that you must realize that if I tell + the King what I know of you, you will be stripped of your ill-gotten + gains, and broken on the wheel for a double traitor—a betrayer of + your fellow-rebels.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will not do that, monsieur?” he cried. “It would be unworthy in + you.” + </p> + <p> + At that I laughed in his face. “Heart of God! Are you to be what you + please, and do you still expect that men shall be nice in dealing with + you? I would do this thing, and, by my faith, Monsieur de Eustache, I will + do it, if you compel me!” + </p> + <p> + He reddened and moved his foot uneasily. Perhaps I did not take the best + way with him, after all. I might have confined myself to sowing fear in + his heart; that alone might have had the effect I desired; by visiting + upon him at the same time the insults I could not repress, I may have + aroused his resistance, and excited his desire above all else to thwart + me. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want of me?” he demanded, with a sudden arrogance which + almost cast mine into the shade. + </p> + <p> + “I want you,” said I, deeming the time ripe to make a plain tale of it, + “to withdraw your men, and to ride back to Toulouse without Monsieur de + Lavedan, there to confess to the Keeper of the Seals that your suspicions + were unfounded, and that you have culled evidence that the Vicomte has had + no relations with Monsieur the King's brother.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me in amazement—amusedly, almost. + </p> + <p> + “A likely story that to bear to the astute gentlemen in Toulouse,” said + he. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, ma foi, a most likely story,” said I. “When they come to consider + the profit that you are losing by not apprehending the Vicomte, and can + think of none that you are making, they will have little difficulty in + believing you.” + </p> + <p> + “But what of this evidence you refer to?” + </p> + <p> + “You have, I take it, discovered no incriminating evidence—no + documents that will tell against the Vicomte?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur, it is true that I have not—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped and bit his lip, my smile making him aware of his indiscretion. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, you must invent some evidence to prove that he was in no + way, associated with the rebellion.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Bardelys,” said he very insolently, “we waste time in idle + words. If you think that I will imperil my neck for the sake of serving + you or the Vicomte, you are most prodigiously at fault.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never thought so. But I have thought that you might be induced to + imperil your neck—as you have it—for its own sake, and to the + end that you might save it.” + </p> + <p> + He moved away. “Monsieur, you talk in vain. You have no royal warrant to + supersede mine. Do what you will when you come to Toulouse,” and he smiled + darkly. “Meanwhile, the Vicomte goes with me.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no evidence against him!” I cried, scarce believing that he + would dare to defy me and that I had failed. + </p> + <p> + “I have the evidence of my word. I am ready to swear to what I know—that, + whilst I was here at Lavedan, some weeks ago, I discovered his connection + with the rebels.” + </p> + <p> + “And what think you, miserable fool, shall your word weigh against mine?” + I cried. “Never fear, Monsieur le Chevalier, I shall be in Toulouse to + give you the lie by showing that your word is a word to which no man may + attach faith, and by exposing to the King your past conduct. If you think + that, after I have spoken, King Louis whom they name the just will suffer + the trial of the Vicomte to go further on your instigation, or if you + think that you will be able to slip your own neck from the noose I shall + have set about it, you are an infinitely greater fool than I deem you.” + </p> + <p> + He stood and looked at me over his shoulder, his face crimson, and his + brows black as a thundercloud. + </p> + <p> + “All this may betide when you come to Toulouse, Monsieur de Bardelys,” + said he darkly, “but from here to Toulouse it is a matter of some twenty + leagues.” + </p> + <p> + With that, he turned on his heel and left me, baffled and angry, to puzzle + out the inner meaning of his parting words. + </p> + <p> + He gave his men the order to mount, and bade Monsieur de Lavedan enter the + coach, whereupon Gilles shot me a glance of inquiry. For a second, as I + stepped slowly after the Chevalier, I was minded to try armed resistance, + and to convert that grey courtyard into a shambles. Then I saw betimes the + futility of such a step, and I shrugged my shoulders in answer to my + servant's glance. + </p> + <p> + I would have spoken to the Vicomte ere he departed, but I was too deeply + chagrined and humiliated by my defeat. So much so that I had no room in my + thoughts even for the very natural conjecture of what Lavedan must be + thinking of me. I repented me then of my rashness in coming to Lavedan + without having seen the King—as Castelroux had counselled me. I had + come indulging vain dreams of a splendid overthrow of Saint-Eustache. I + had thought to shine heroically in Mademoiselle's eyes, and thus I had + hoped that both gratitude for having saved her father and admiration at + the manner in which I had achieved it would predispose her to grant me a + hearing in which I might plead my rehabilitation. Once that were accorded + me, I did not doubt I should prevail. + </p> + <p> + Now my dream was all dispelled, and my pride had suffered just such a + humiliating fall as the moralists tell us pride must ever suffer. There + seemed little left me but to go hence with lambent tail, like a dog that + has been whipped—my dazzling escort become a mockery but that it + served the more loudly to advertise my true impotency. + </p> + <p> + As I approached the carriage, the Vicomtesse swept suddenly down the steps + and came towards me with a friendly smile. “Monsieur de Bardelys,” said + she, “we are grateful for your intervention in the cause of that rebel my + husband.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” I besought her, under my breath, “if you would not totally + destroy him, I beseech you to be cautious. By your leave, I will have my + men refreshed, and thereafter I shall take the road to Toulouse again. I + can only hope that my intervention with the King may bear better fruit.” + </p> + <p> + Although I spoke in a subdued key, Saint-Eustache, who stood near us, + overheard me, as his face very clearly testified. + </p> + <p> + “Remain here, sir,” she replied, with some effusion, “and follow us when + you are rested.” + </p> + <p> + “Follow you?” I inquired. “Do you then go with Monsieur de Lavedan?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Anne,” said the Vicomte politely from the carriage. “It will be + tiring you unnecessarily. You were better advised to remain here until my + return.” + </p> + <p> + I doubt not that the poor Vicomte was more concerned with how she would + tire him than with how the journey might tire her. But the Vicomtesse was + not to be gainsaid. The Chevalier had sneered when the Vicomte spoke of + returning. Madame had caught that sneer, and she swung round upon him now + with the vehement fury of a virago. + </p> + <p> + “He'll not return, you think, you Judas!” she snarled at him, her lean, + swarthy face growing very evil to see. “But he shall—by God, he + shall! And look to your skin when he does, monsieur the catchpoll, for, on + my honour, you shall have a foretaste of hell for your trouble in this + matter.” + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier smiled with much restraint. “A woman's tongue,” said he, + “does no injury.” + </p> + <p> + “Will a woman's arm, think you?” demanded that warlike matron. “You + musk-stinking tipstaff, I'll—” + </p> + <p> + “Anne, my love,” implored the Vicomte soothingly, “I beg that you will + control yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I submit to the insolence of this misbegotten vassal? Shall I—” + </p> + <p> + “Remember rather that it does not become the dignity of your station to + address the fellow. We avoid venomous reptiles, but we do not pause to + reproach them with their venom. God made them so.” + </p> + <p> + Saint-Eustache coloured to the roots of his hair, then, turning hastily to + the driver, he bade him start. He would have closed the door with that, + but that madame thrust herself forward. + </p> + <p> + That was the Chevalier's chance to be avenged. “You cannot go,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Cannot?” Her cheeks reddened. “Why not, monsieur Lesperon? + </p> + <p> + “I have no reasons to afford you,” he answered brutally. “You cannot go.” + </p> + <p> + “Your pardon, Chevalier,” I interposed. “You go beyond your rights in + seeking to prevent her. Monsieur le Vicomte is not yet convicted. Do not, + I beseech you, transcend the already odious character of your work.” + </p> + <p> + And without more ado I shouldered him aside, and held the door that she + might enter. She rewarded me with a smile—half vicious, half + whimsical, and mounted the step. Saint-Eustache would have interfered. He + came at me as if resenting that shoulder-thrust of mine, and for a second + I almost thought he would have committed the madness of striking me. + </p> + <p> + “Take care, Saint-Eustache,” I said very quietly, my eyes fixed on his. + And much as dead Caesar's ghost may have threatened Brutus with Philippi + “We meet at Toulouse, Chevalier,” said I, and closing the carriage door I + stepped back. + </p> + <p> + There was a flutter of skirts behind me. It was mademoiselle. So brave and + outwardly so calm until now, the moment of actual separation—and + added thereunto perhaps her mother's going and the loneliness that for + herself she foresaw—proved more than she could endure. I stepped + aside, and she swept past me and caught at the leather curtain of the + coach. + </p> + <p> + “Father!” she sobbed. + </p> + <p> + There are some things that a man of breeding may not witness—some + things to look upon which is near akin to eavesdropping or reading the + letters of another. Such a scene did I now account the present one, and, + turning, I moved away. But Saint-Eustache cut it short, for scarce had I + taken three paces when his voice rang out the command to move. The driver + hesitated, for the girl was still hanging at the window. But a second + command, accompanied by a vigorous oath, overcame his hesitation. He + gathered up his reins, cracked his whip, and the lumbering wheels began to + move. + </p> + <p> + “Have a care, child!” I heard the Vicomte cry, “have a care! Adieu, mon + enfant!” + </p> + <p> + She sprang back, sobbing, and assuredly she would have fallen, thrown out + of balance by the movement of the coach, but that I put forth my hands and + caught her. + </p> + <p> + I do not think she knew whose were the arms that held her for that brief + space, so desolated was she by the grief so long repressed. At last she + realized that it was this worthless Bardelys against whom she rested; this + man who had wagered that he would win and wed her; this impostor who had + come to her under an assumed name; this knave who had lied to her as no + gentleman could have lied, swearing to love her, whilst, in reality, he + did no more than seek to win a wager. When all this she realized, she + shuddered a second, then moved abruptly from my grasp, and, without so + much as a glance at me, she left me, and, ascending the steps of the + chateau, she passed from my sight. + </p> + <p> + I gave the order to dismount as the last of Saint-Eustache's followers + vanished under the portcullis. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. THE FLINT AND THE STEEL + </h2> + <p> + “Mademoiselle will see you, monsieur,” said Anatole at last. + </p> + <p> + Twice already had he carried unavailingly my request that Roxalanne should + accord me an interview ere I departed. On this the third occasion I had + bidden him say that I would not stir from Lavedan until she had done me + the honour of hearing me. Seemingly that threat had prevailed where + entreaties had been scorned. + </p> + <p> + I followed Anatole from the half-light of the hall in which I had been + pacing into the salon overlooking the terraces and the river, where + Roxalanne awaited me. She was standing at the farther end of the room by + one of the long windows, which was open, for, although we were already in + the first week of October, the air of Languedoc was as warm and balmy as + that of Paris or Picardy is in summer. + </p> + <p> + I advanced to the centre of the chamber, and there I paused and waited + until it should please her to acknowledge my presence and turn to face me. + I was no fledgling. I had seen much, I had learnt much and been in many + places, and my bearing was wont to convey it. Never in my life had I been + gauche, for which I thank my parents, and if years ago—long years + ago—a certain timidity had marked my first introductions to the + Louvre and the Luxembourg, that timidity was something from which I had + long since parted company. And yet it seemed to me, as I stood in that + pretty, sunlit room awaiting the pleasure of that child, scarce out of her + teens, that some of the awkwardness I had escaped in earlier years, some + of the timidity of long ago, came to me then. I shifted the weight of my + body from one leg to the other; I fingered the table by which I stood; I + pulled at the hat I held; my colour came and went; I looked at her + furtively from under bent brows, and I thanked God that her back being + towards me she might not see the clown I must have seemed. + </p> + <p> + At length, unable longer to brook that discomposing silence— + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle!” I called softly. The sound of my own voice seemed to + invigorate me, to strip me of my awkwardness and self-consciousness. It + broke the spell that for a moment had been over me, and brought me back to + myself—to the vain, self-confident, flamboyant Bardelys that perhaps + you have pictured from my writings. + </p> + <p> + “I hope, monsieur,” she answered, without turning, “that what you may have + to say may justify in some measure your very importunate insistence.” + </p> + <p> + On my life, this was not encouraging. But now that I was master of myself, + I was not again so easily to be disconcerted. My eyes rested upon her as + she stood almost framed in the opening of that long window. How straight + and supple she was, yet how dainty and slight withal! She was far from + being a tall woman, but her clean length of limb, her very slightness, and + the high-bred poise of her shapely head, conveyed an illusion of height + unless you stood beside her. The illusion did not sway me then. I saw only + a child; but a child with a great spirit, with a great soul that seemed to + accentuate her physical helplessness. That helplessness, which I felt + rather than saw, wove into the warp of my love. She was in grief just then—in + grief at the arrest of her father, and at the dark fate that threatened + him; in grief at the unworthiness of a lover. Of the two which might be + the more bitter it was not mine to judge, but I burned to gather her to + me, to comfort and cherish her, to make her one with me, and thus, whilst + giving her something of my man's height and strength, cull from her + something of that pure, noble spirit, and thus sanctify my own. + </p> + <p> + I had a moment's weakness when she spoke. I was within an ace of advancing + and casting myself upon my knees like any Lenten penitent, to sue + forgiveness. But I set the inclination down betimes. Such expedients would + not avail me here. + </p> + <p> + “What I have to say, mademoiselle,” I answered after a pause, “would + justify a saint descending into, hell; or, rather, to make my metaphor + more apt, would warrant a sinner's intrusion into heaven.” + </p> + <p> + I spoke solemnly, yet not too solemnly; the least slur of a sardonic + humour was in my tones. + </p> + <p> + She moved her head upon the white column of her neck, and with the gesture + one of her brown curls became disordered. I could fancy the upward tilt of + her delicate nose, the scornful curve of her lip as she answered shortly + “Then say it quickly, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + And, being thus bidden, I said quickly “I love you, Roxalanne.” + </p> + <p> + Her heel beat the shimmering parquet of the floor; she half turned towards + me, her cheek flushed, her lip tremulous with anger. + </p> + <p> + “Will you say what you have to say, monsieur?” she demanded in a + concentrated voice, “and having said it, will you go?” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, I have already said it,” I answered, with a wistful smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she gasped. Then suddenly facing round upon me, a world of anger in + her blue eyes—eyes that I had known dreamy, but which were now very + wide awake. “Was it to offer me this last insult you forced your presence + upon me? Was it to mock me with those words, me—a woman, with no man + about me to punish you? Shame, sir! Yet it is no more than I might look + for in you.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, you do me grievous wrong—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “I do you no wrong,” she answered hotly, then stopped, unwilling haply to + be drawn into contention with me. “Enfin, since you have said what you + came to say will you go?” And she pointed to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, mademoiselle—” I began in a voice of earnest + intercession. + </p> + <p> + “Go!” she interrupted angrily, and for a second the violence of her voice + and gesture almost reminded me of the Vicomtesse. “I will hear no more + from you.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle, you shall,” I answered no whit less firmly. + </p> + <p> + “I will not listen to you. Talk if you will. You shall have the walls for + audience.” And she moved towards the door, but I barred her passage. I was + courteous to the last degree; I bowed low before her as I put myself in + her way. + </p> + <p> + “It is all that was wanting—that you should offer me violence!” she + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “God forbid!” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Then let me pass.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, when you have heard me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish to hear you. Nothing that you may say can matter to me. Oh, + monsieur, if you have any instincts of gentility, if you have any + pretension to be accounted anything but a mauvais sujet, I beg of you to + respect my grief. You witnessed, yourself, the arrest of my father. This + is no season for such as scene as you are creating.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon! It is in such a season as this that you need the comfort and + support that the man you love alone can give you.” + </p> + <p> + “The man I love?” she echoed, and from flushed that they had been, her + cheeks went very pale. Her eyes fell for an instant, then—they were + raised again, and their blue depths were offered me. “I think, sir,” she + said, through her teeth, “that your insolence transcends all belief.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you deny it?” I cried. “Can you deny that you love me? If you can—why, + then, you lied to me three nights ago at Toulouse!” + </p> + <p> + That smote her hard—so hard that she forgot her assurance that she + would not listen to me—her promise to herself that she would stoop + to no contention with me. + </p> + <p> + “If, in a momentary weakness, in my nescience of you as you truly are, I + did make some such admission, I did entertain such feelings for you, + things have come to my knowledge since then, monsieur, that have revealed + you to me as another man; I have learnt something that has utterly + withered such love as I then confessed. Now, monsieur, are you satisfied, + and will you let me pass?” She said the last words with a return of her + imperiousness, already angry at having been drawn so far. + </p> + <p> + “I am satisfied, mademoiselle,” I answered brutally, “that you did not + speak the truth three nights ago. You never loved me. It was pity that + deluded you, shame that urged you—shame at the Delilah part you had + played and at your betrayal of me. Now, mademoiselle, you may pass,” said + I. + </p> + <p> + And I stood aside, assured that as she was a woman she would not pass me + now. Nor did she. She recoiled a step instead. Her lip quivered. Then she + recovered quickly. Her mother might have told her that she was a fool for + engaging herself in such a duel with me—me, the veteran of a hundred + amorous combats. Yet though I doubt not it was her first assault-at-arms + of this description, she was more than a match for me, as her next words + proved. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I thank you for enlightening me. I cannot, indeed, have spoken + the truth three nights ago. You are right, I do not doubt it now, and you + lift from me a load of shame.” + </p> + <p> + Dieu! It was like a thrust in the high lines, and its hurtful violence + staggered me. I was finished, it seemed. The victory was hers, and she but + a child with no practice of Cupid's art of fence! + </p> + <p> + “Now, monsieur,” she added, “now that you are satisfied that you did wrong + to say I loved you, now that we have disposed of that question—adieu!” + </p> + <p> + “A moment yet!” I cried. “We have disposed of that, but there was another + point, an earlier one, which for the moment we have disregarded. We have—you + have disproved the love I was so presumptuous as to believe you fostered + for me. We have yet to reckon with the love I bear you, mademoiselle, and + of that we shall not be able to dispose so readily.” + </p> + <p> + With a gesture of weariness or of impatience, she turned aside. “What is + it you want? What do you seek to gain by thus provoking me? To win your + wager?” Her voice was cold. Who to have looked upon that childlike face, + upon those meek, pondering eyes, could have believed her capable of so + much cruelty? + </p> + <p> + “There can no longer be any question of my wager; I have lost and paid + it,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She looked up suddenly. Her brows met in a frown of bewilderment. Clearly + this interested her. Again was she drawn. + </p> + <p> + “How?” she asked. “You have lost and paid it?” + </p> + <p> + “Even so. That odious, cursed, infamous wager, was the something which I + hinted at so often as standing between you and me. The confession that so + often I was on the point of making—that so often you urged me to + make—concerned that wager. Would to God, Roxalanne, that I had told + you!” I cried, and it seemed to me that the sincerity ringing in my voice + drove some of the harshness from her countenance, some of the coldness + from her glance. + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately,” I pursued, “it always seemed to me either not yet time, + or already too late. Yet so soon as I regained my liberty, my first + thought was of that. While the wager existed I might not ask you to become + my wife, lest I should seem to be carrying out the original intention + which embarked me upon the business of wooing you, and brought me here to + Languedoc. And so my first step was to seek out Chatellerault and deliver + him my note of hand for my Picardy possessions, the bulk—by far the + greater bulk—of all my fortune. My second step was to repair to you + at the Hotel de l'Epee. + </p> + <p> + “At last I could approach you with clean hands; I could confess what I had + done; and since it seemed to me that I had made the utmost atonement, I + was confident of success. Alas! I came too late. In the porch of the + auberge I met you as you came forth. From my talkative intendant you had + learnt already the story of that bargain into which Bardelys had entered. + You had learnt who I was, and you thought that you had learnt why I wooed + you. Accordingly you could but despise me.” + </p> + <p> + She had sunk into a chair. Her hands were folded in a listless manner in + her lap, and her eyes were lowered, her cheeks pale. But the swift heave + of her bosom told me that my words were not without effect. “Do you know + nothing of the bargain that I made with Chatellerault?” she asked in a + voice that held, I thought, some trace of misery. + </p> + <p> + “Chatellerault was a cheat!” I cried. “No man of honour in France would + have accounted himself under obligation to pay that wager. I paid it, not + because I thought the payment due, but that by its payment I might offer + you a culminating proof of my sincerity.” + </p> + <p> + “Be that as it may,” said she, “I passed him my word to—to marry + him, if he set you at liberty.” + </p> + <p> + “The promise does not hold, for when you made it I was at liberty already. + Besides, Chatellerault is dead by now—or very near it.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead?” she echoed, looking up. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dead. We fought—” The ghost of a smile, of sudden, of scornful + understanding, passed like a ray of light across her face. “Pardieu!” I + cried, “you do me a wrong there. It was not by my hands that he fell. It + was not by me that the duel was instigated.” + </p> + <p> + And with that I gave her the whole details of the affair, including the + information that Chatellerault had been no party to my release, and that + for his attempted judicial murder of me the King would have dealt very + hardly with him had he not saved the King the trouble by throwing himself + upon his sword: + </p> + <p> + There was a silence when I had done. Roxalanne sat on, and seemed to + ponder. To let all that I had said sink in and advocate my cause, as to me + was very clear it must, I turned aside and moved to one of the windows. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not tell me before?” she asked suddenly. “Why—oh, why—did + you not confess to me the whole infamous affair as soon as you came to + love me, as you say you did?” + </p> + <p> + “As I say I did?” I repeated after her. “Do you doubt it? Can you doubt it + in the face of what I have done?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know what to believe!” she cried, a sob in her voice. “You + have deceived me so far, so often. Why did you not tell me that night on + the river? Or later, when I pressed you in this very house? Or again, the + other night in the prison of Toulouse?” + </p> + <p> + “You ask me why. Can you not answer the question for yourself? Can you not + conceive the fear that was in me that you should shrink away from me in + loathing? The fear that if you cared a little, I might for all time stifle + such affection as you bore me? The fear that I must ruin your trust in me? + Oh, mademoiselle, can you not see how my only hope lay in first owning + defeat to Chatellerault, in first paying the wager?” + </p> + <p> + “How could you have lent yourself to such a bargain?” was her next + question. + </p> + <p> + “How, indeed?” I asked in my turn. “From your mother you have heard + something of the reputation that attaches to Bardelys. I was a man of + careless ways, satiated with all the splendours life could give me, + nauseated by all its luxuries. Was it wonderful that I allowed myself to + be lured into this affair? It promised some excitement, a certain novelty, + difficulties in a path that I had—alas!—ever found all too + smooth—for Chatellerault had made your reputed coldness the chief + bolster of his opinion that I should not win. + </p> + <p> + “Again, I was not given to over-nice scruples. I make no secret of my + infirmities, but do not blame me too much. If you could see the fine + demoiselles we have in Paris, if you could listen to their tenets and take + a deep look into their lives, you would not marvel at me. I had never + known any but these. On the night of my coming to Lavedan, your sweetness, + your pure innocence, your almost childish virtue, dazed me by their + novelty. From that first moment I became your slave. Then I was in your + garden day by day. And here, in this old Languedoc garden with you and + your roses, during the languorous days of my convalescence, is it + wonderful that some of the purity, some of the sweetness that was of you + and of your roses, should have crept into my heart and cleansed it a + little? Ah, mademoiselle!” I cried—and, coming close to her, I would + have bent my knee in intercession but that she restrained me. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she interrupted, “we harass ourselves in vain. This can have + but one ending.” + </p> + <p> + Her tones were cold, but the coldness I knew was forced—else had she + not said “we harass ourselves.” Instead of quelling my ardour, it gave it + fuel. + </p> + <p> + “True, mademoiselle,” I cried, almost exultantly. “It can end but one + way!” + </p> + <p> + She caught my meaning, and her frown deepened. I went too fast, it seemed. + </p> + <p> + “It had better end now, monsieur. There is too much between us. You + wagered to win me to wife.” She shuddered. “I could never forget it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” I denied stoutly, “I did not.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” She caught her breath. “You did not?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I pursued boldly. “I did not wager to win you. I wagered to win a + certain Mademoiselle de Lavedan, who was unknown to me—but not you, + not you.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, with never so slight a touch of scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Your distinctions are very fine—too fine for me, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “I implore you to be reasonable. Think reasonably.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I not reasonable? Do I not think? But there is so much to think of!” + she sighed. “You carried your deception so far. You came here, for + instance, as Monsieur de Lesperon. Why that duplicity?” + </p> + <p> + “Again, mademoiselle, I did not,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She glanced at me with pathetic disdain. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, indeed, monsieur, you deny things very bravely.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I tell you that my name was Lesperon? Did I present myself to + monsieur your father as Lesperon?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely—yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely no; a thousand times no. I was the victim of circumstances in + that, and if I turned them to my own account after they had been forced + upon me, shall I be blamed and accounted a cheat? Whilst I was + unconscious, your father, seeking for a clue to my identity, made an + inspection of my clothes. + </p> + <p> + “In the pocket of my doublet they found some papers addressed to Rene de + Lesperon—some love letters, a communication from the Duc d'Orleans, + and a woman's portrait. From all of this it was assumed that I was that + Lesperon. Upon my return to consciousness your father greeted me + effusively, whereat I wondered; he passed on to discuss—nay, to tell + me of—the state of the province and of his own connection with the + rebels, until I lay gasping at his egregious temerity. Then, when he + greeted me as Monsieur de Lesperon, I had the explanation of it, but too + late. Could I deny the identity then? Could I tell him that I was + Bardelys, the favourite of the King himself? What would have occurred? I + ask you, mademoiselle. Would I not have been accounted a spy, and would + they not have made short work of me here at your chateau?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; they would have done no murder.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not, but I could not be sure just then. Most men situated as your + father was would have despatched me. Ah, mademoiselle, have you not proofs + enough? Do you not believe me now?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur,” she answered simply, “I believe you.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you not believe, then, in the sincerity of my love?” + </p> + <p> + She made no rely. Her face was averted, but from her silence I took heart. + I drew close to her. I set my hand upon the tall back of her chair, and, + leaning towards her, I spoke with passionate heat as must have melted, I + thought, any woman who had not a loathing for me. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle; I am a poor man now,” I ended. “I am no longer that + magnificent gentleman whose wealth and splendour were a byword. Yet am I + no needy adventurer. I have a little property at Beaugency—a very + spot for happiness, mademoiselle. Paris shall know me no more. At + Beaugency I shall live at peace, in seclusion, and, so that you come with + me, in such joy as in all my life I have done nothing to deserve. I have + no longer an army of retainers. A couple of men and a maid or two shall + constitute our household. Yet I shall account my wealth well lost if for + love's sake you'll share with me the peace of my obscurity. I am poor, + mademoiselle yet no poorer even now than that Gascon gentleman, Rene de + Lesperon, for whom you held me, and on whom you bestowed the priceless + treasure of your heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, might it have pleased God that you had remained that poor Gascon + gentleman!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “In what am I different, Roxalanne?” + </p> + <p> + “In that he had laid no wager,” she answered, rising suddenly. + </p> + <p> + My hopes were withering. She was not angry. She was pale, and her gentle + face was troubled—dear God! how sorely troubled! To me it almost + seemed that I had lost. + </p> + <p> + She flashed me a glance of her blue eyes, and I thought that tears + impended. + </p> + <p> + “Roxalanne!” I supplicated. + </p> + <p> + But she recovered the control that for a moment she had appeared upon the + verge of losing. She put forth her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, monsieur!” said she. + </p> + <p> + I glanced from her hand to her face. Her attitude began to anger me, for I + saw that she was not only resisting me, but resisting herself. In her + heart the insidious canker of doubt persisted. She knew—or should + have known—that it no longer should have any place there, yet + obstinately she refrained from plucking it out. There was that wager. But + for that same obstinacy she must have realized the reason of my arguments, + the irrefutable logic of my payment. She denied me, and in denying me she + denied herself, for that she had loved me she had herself told me, and + that she could love me again I was assured, if she would but see the thing + in the light of reason and of justice. + </p> + <p> + “Roxalanne, I did not come to Lavedan to say 'Good-bye' to you. I seek + from you a welcome, not a dismissal.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet my dismissal is all that I can give. Will you not take my hand? May + we not part in friendly spirit?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we may not; for we do not part at all.” + </p> + <p> + It was as the steel of my determination striking upon the flint of hers. + She looked up to my face for an instant; she raised her eyebrows in + deprecation; she sighed, shrugged one shoulder, and, turning on her heel, + moved towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Anatole shall bring you refreshment ere you go,” she said in a very + polite and formal voice. + </p> + <p> + Then I played my last card. Was it for nothing that I had flung away my + wealth? If she would not give herself, by God, I would compel her to sell + herself. And I took no shame in doing it, for by doing it I was saving her + and saving myself from a life of unhappiness. + </p> + <p> + “Roxalanne!” I cried. The imperiousness of my voice arrested and compelled + her perhaps against her very will. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur?” said she, as demurely as you please. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what you are doing?”. + </p> + <p> + “But yes—perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu, you do not. I will tell you. You are sending your father to the + scaffold.” + </p> + <p> + She turned livid, her step faltered, and she leant against the frame of + the doorway for support. Then she stared at me, wide-eyed in horror. + </p> + <p> + “That is not true,” she pleaded, yet without conviction. “He is not in + danger of his life. They can prove nothing against him. Monsieur de + Saint-Eustache could find no evidence here—nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet there is Monsieur de Saint-Eustache's word; there is the fact—the + significant fact—that your father did not take up arms for the King, + to afford the Chevalier's accusation some measure of corroboration. At + Toulouse in these times they are not particular. Remember how it had fared + with me but for the King's timely arrival.” + </p> + <p> + That smote home. The last shred of her strength fell from her. A great sob + shook her, then covering her face with her hands “Mother in heaven, have + pity on me!” she cried. “Oh, it cannot be, it cannot be!” + </p> + <p> + Her distress touched me sorely. I would have consoled her, I would have + bidden her have no fear, assuring her that I would save her father. But + for my own ends, I curbed the mood. I would use this as a cudgel to + shatter her obstinacy, and I prayed that God might forgive me if I did + aught that a gentleman should account unworthy. My need was urgent, my + love all-engrossing; winning her meant winning life and happiness, and + already I had sacrificed so much. Her cry rang still in my ears, “It + cannot be, it cannot be!” + </p> + <p> + I trampled my nascent tenderness underfoot, and in its room I set a + harshness that I did not feel—a harshness of defiance and menace. + </p> + <p> + “It can be, it will be, and, as God lives, it shall be, if you persist in + your unreasonable attitude.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, have mercy!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, when you shall be pleased to show me the way to it by having mercy + upon me. If I have sinned, I have atoned. But that is a closed question + now; to reopen it were futile. Take heed of this, Roxalanne: there is one + thing—one only in all France can save your father.” + </p> + <p> + “That is, monsieur?” she inquired breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “My word against that of Saint-Eustache. My indication to His Majesty that + your father's treason is not to be accepted on the accusation of + Saint-Eustache. My information to the King of what I know touching this + gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “You will go, monsieur?” she implored me. “Oh, you will save him! Mon + Dieu, to think of the time that we have wasted here, you and I, whilst he + is being carried to the scaffold! Oh, I did not dream it was so perilous + with him! I was desolated by his arrest; I thought of some months' + imprisonment, perhaps. But that he should die—! Monsieur de + Bardelys, you will save him! Say that you will do this for me!” + </p> + <p> + She was on her knees to me now, her arms clasping my boots, her eyes + raised in entreaty—God, what entreaty!—to my own. + </p> + <p> + “Rise, mademoiselle, I beseech you,” I said, with a quiet I was far from + feeling. “There is no need for this. Let us be calm. The danger to your + father is not so imminent. We may have some days yet—three or four, + perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + I lifted her gently and led her to a chair. I was hard put to it not to + hold her supported in my arms. But I might not cull that advantage from + her distress. A singular niceness, you will say, perhaps, as in your scorn + you laugh at me. Perhaps you are right to laugh—yet are you not + altogether right. + </p> + <p> + “You will go to Toulouse, monsieur?” she begged. + </p> + <p> + I took a turn in the room, then halting before her “Yes,” I answered, “I + will go.” + </p> + <p> + The gratitude that leapt to her eyes smote me hard, for my sentence was + unfinished. + </p> + <p> + “I will go,” I continued quickly, “when you shall have promised to become + my wife.” + </p> + <p> + The joy passed from her face. She glanced at me a moment as if without + understanding. + </p> + <p> + “I came to Lavedan to win you, Roxalanne, and from Lavedan I shall not + stir until I have accomplished my design,” I said very quietly. “You will + therefore see that it rests with you how soon I may set out.” + </p> + <p> + She fell to weeping softly, but answered nothing. At last I turned from + her and moved towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “To take the air, mademoiselle. If upon deliberation you can bring + yourself to marry me, send me word by Anatole or one of the others, and I + shall set out at once for Toulouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” she cried. Obediently I stopped, my hand already upon the + doorknob. “You are cruel, monsieur!” she complained. + </p> + <p> + “I love you,” said I, by way of explaining it. “To be cruel seems to be + the way of love. You have been cruel to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you—would you take what is not freely given?” + </p> + <p> + “I have the hope that when you see that you must give, you will give + freely.” + </p> + <p> + “If—if I make you this promise—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” I was growing white with eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “You will fulfil your part of the bargain?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a habit of mine, mademoiselle—as witnesses the case of + Chatellerault.” She shivered at the mention of his name. It reminded her + of precisely such another bargain that three nights ago she had made. + Precisely, did I say? Well, not quite precisely. + </p> + <p> + “I—I promise to marry you, then,” said she in a choking voice, + “whenever you choose, after my father shall have been set at liberty.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed. “I shall start at once,” said I. + </p> + <p> + And perhaps out of shame, perhaps out of—who shall say what + sentiments?—I turned without another word and left her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. THE “BRAVI” AT BLAGNAC + </h2> + <p> + I was glad to be in the open once more—glad of the movement, as I + rode at the head of my brave company along the bank of the Garonne and in + the shade of the golden, autumn-tinted trees. + </p> + <p> + I was in a measure angry with myself that I had driven such a bargain with + Roxalanne, in a measure angry with her that she had forced me to it by her + obstinacy. A fine gentleman I, on my soul, to have dubbed Chatellerault a + cheat for having done no worse than I had now brought myself to do! Yet, + was it so? No, I assured myself, it was not. A thousand times no! What I + had done I had done as much to win Roxalanne to me as to win her from her + own unreasonableness. In the days to come she should thank me for my + harshness, for that which now she perhaps accounted my unfairness. + </p> + <p> + Then, again, would I ask myself, was I very sure of this? And so the two + questions were flung the one against the other; my conscience divided + itself into two parties, and they waged a war that filled me with a + depressing uncertainty. + </p> + <p> + In the end shame was overthrown, and I flung back my head with a snort of + assurance. I was doing no wrong. On the contrary, I was doing right—both + by myself and by Roxalanne. What matter that I was really cheating her? + What matter that I had said I would not leave Lavedan until I had her + promise, whilst in reality I had hurled my threat at Saint-Eustache that I + would meet him at Toulouse, and passed my word to the Vicomtesse that I + would succour her husband? + </p> + <p> + I gave no thought to the hidden threat with which Saint-Eustache had + retorted that from Lavedan to Toulouse was a distance of some twenty + leagues. Had he been a man of sterner purposes I might have been uneasy + and on my guard. But Saint-Eustache pshaw! + </p> + <p> + It is ill to underestimate an enemy, be he never so contemptible, and for + my disdain of the Chevalier I might have paid dearly had not Fortune—which + of late had been practising singular jests upon me after seemingly + abandoning me, returned to my aid at the last moment. + </p> + <p> + It was Saint-Eustache's purpose that I should never reach Toulouse alive, + for in all the world I was the one man he feared, the one man who would + encompass his undoing and destruction by a word. And so he had resolved + and disposed that I should be removed, and to accomplish this he had left + a line of bravi along the road I was to pass. + </p> + <p> + He had counted upon my lying the night in one of the intervening towns, + for the journey was over-long to be accomplished at a stretch, and + wherever I might chance to lie, there I should have to reckon with his + assassins. The nearer Toulouse—although I knew not this—the + thicker grew my danger. Into the very thick of it I rode; in the very + thick of it I lay, and all that came of it was that I obtained possession + of one more and overwhelming piece of evidence against my murderous + Chevalier. But I outrun my story. + </p> + <p> + It had been my purpose to change horses at Grenade, and so push on and + reach Toulouse that very night or in the early hours of the following + morning. At Grenade, however, there were no horses to be obtained, at + least not more than three, and so, leaving the greater portion of my + company behind, I set out, escorted only by Gilles and Antoine. Night had + fallen long before we reached Lespinasse, and with it came foul weather. + The wind rose from the west, grew to the violence of a hurricane, and + brought with it such a deluge of cold, cutting rain as never had it been + my ill-chance to ride through. From Lespinasse to Fenouillet the road dips + frequently, and wherever this occurred it seemed to us that we were riding + in a torrent, our horses fetlock-deep in mud. + </p> + <p> + Antoine complained in groans; Gilles growled openly, and went the length + of begging me, as we rode through the ill-paved, flooded streets of + Fenouillet, to go no farther. But I was adamant in my resolve. Soaked to + the skin, my clothes hanging sodden about me, and chilled to the marrow + though I was, I set my chattering teeth, and swore that we should not + sleep until we reached Toulouse. + </p> + <p> + “My God,” he groaned, “and we but halfway!” + </p> + <p> + “Forward!” was all I answered; and so as midnight chimed we left + Fenouillet behind us, and dashed on into the open country and the full + fury of the tempest. + </p> + <p> + My servants came after me upon their stumbling horses, whining and cursing + by turns, and forgetting in their misery the respect that they were + accustomed to pay me. I think now that it was a providence that guided me. + Had I halted at Fenouillet, as they would have had me do, it is odds that + this chronicle would never have been penned, for likely enough I had had + my throat cut as I slept. A providence was it also that brought my horse + down within a half-mile of Blagnac, and so badly did it founder that it + might not be ridden farther. + </p> + <p> + The beasts my men bestrode were in little better condition, and so, with + infinite chagrin, I was forced to acknowledge defeat and to determine that + at Blagnac we should lie for the remainder of the night. After all, it + mattered little. A couple of hours' riding in the morning would bring us + to Toulouse, and we would start betimes. + </p> + <p> + I bade Gilles dismount—he had been the louder in his complainings—and + follow us afoot, bringing my horse to the Auberge de l'Etoile at Blagnac, + where he would await him. Then I mounted his jaded beast, and, accompanied + by Antoine—the last of my retainers—I rode into Blagnac, and + pulled up at the sign of the “Star.” + </p> + <p> + With my whip I smote the door, and I had need to smite hard if I would be + heard above the wind that shrieked and howled under the eaves of that + narrow street. Yet it almost seemed as if some one were expected, for + scarce had my knocking ceased when the door was opened, and the landlord + stood there, shading a taper with his hand. For a moment I saw the glow of + its light on his rosy, white-bearded face, then a gust of wind + extinguished it. + </p> + <p> + “Diable!” he swore, “an ugly night for travelling”; adding as an + afterthought, “You ride late, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a man of supreme discernment, Monsieur l'Hote,” said I testily, + as I pushed him aside and stepped into the passage. “Will you keep me in + the rain till daylight whilst you perpend how late I ride? Is your ostler + abed? See to those beasts yourself, then. Afterwards get me food—for + me and for my man and beds for both of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I have but one room, monsieur,” he answered respectfully. “You shall have + that, and your servant shall sleep in the hayloft.” + </p> + <p> + “My servant sleeps in my room, if you have but one. Set a mattress on the + floor for him. Is this a night to leave a dog to sleep in a hayloft? I + have another servant following. He will be here in a few minutes. You must + find room for him also—in the passage outside my door, if no other + accommodation be possible.” + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur—” he began in a tone of protest, which I set down to + the way a landlord has of making difficulties that he shall be the better + paid for such lodging as he finds us. + </p> + <p> + “See to it,” I ordered peremptorily. “You shall be well paid. Now go tend + those horses.” + </p> + <p> + On the wall of the passage fell a warm, reddish glow from the common room, + which argued a fire, and this was too alluring to admit of my remaining + longer in discussion with him. I strode forward, therefore. The Auberge de + l'Etoile was not an imposing hostelry, nor one at which from choice I had + made a halt. This common room stank most vilely of oil, of burning tallow—from + the smoky tapers—and of I know not what other noisome + unsavourinesses. + </p> + <p> + As I entered, I was greeted by a resonant snore from a man seated in a + corner by the fire. His head had fallen back, displaying the brown, sinewy + neck, and he slept—or seemed to sleep—with mouth wide open. + Full length on the hearth and in the red glare of the burning logs lay + what at first glance I took to be a heap of rags, but which closer + scrutiny showed me to be another man, seemingly asleep also. + </p> + <p> + I flung my sodden castor on the table; I dropped my drenched cloak on the + ground, and stepped with heavy tread and a noisy rattle of spurs across + the floor. Yet my ragged gentleman slept on. I touched him lightly with my + whip. + </p> + <p> + “Hold, mon bonhomme!” I cried to him. Still he did not move, whereat I + lost patience and caught him a kick full in the side, so choicely aimed + that first it doubled him up, then brought him into a sitting posture, + with the snarl of a cross-grained dog that has been rudely aroused. + </p> + <p> + From out of an evil, dirty countenance a pair of gloomy, bloodshot eyes + scowled threateningly upon me. The man on the chair awoke at the same + instant, and sat forward. + </p> + <p> + “Eh bien?” said I to my friend on the hearth: “Will you stir yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “For whom?” he growled. “Is not the Etoile as much for me as for you, + whoever you may be?” + </p> + <p> + “We have paid our lodging, pardieu!” swore he of the chair. + </p> + <p> + “My masters,” said I grimly, “if you have not eyes to see my sodden + condition, and if you therefore have not the grace to move that I may + approach the fire; I'll see to it that you spend the night not only a + l'Etoile, but a la belle etoile.” With which pleasantry, and a touch of + the foot, I moved my friend aside. My tone was not nice, nor do I + generally have the air of promising more than I can fulfil. + </p> + <p> + They were growling together in a corner when Antoine came to draw off my + doublet and my boots. They were still growling when Gilles joined us + presently, although at his coming they paused to take his measure with + their eyes. For Gilles was something of a giant, and men were wont to turn + their heads—aye, and women too—to admire his fine proportions. + We supped—so vilely that I have not the heart to tell you what we + ate—and, having supped, I bade my host light me to my chamber. As + for my men, I had determined that they should spend the night in the + common room, where there was a fire, and where—notwithstanding the + company of those two ruffians, into whose presence I had not troubled to + inquire—they would doubtless be better than elsewhere in that poor + hostelry. + </p> + <p> + In gathering up my cloak and doublet and other effects to bear them off to + the kitchen, the host would have possessed himself also of my sword. But + with a laugh I took it from him, remarking that it required no drying. + </p> + <p> + As we mounted the stairs, I heard something above me that sounded like the + creaking of a door. The host heard it also, for he stood suddenly still, + his glance very questioning. + </p> + <p> + “What was that?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “The wind, I should say,” I answered idly; and my answer seemed to + reassure him, for with a “Ah, yes—the wind,” he went on. + </p> + <p> + Now, for all that I am far from being a man of tremors or unwarranted + fears, to tell the truth the hostelry of the “Star” was beginning to fret + my nerves. I could scarce have told you why had you asked me, as I sat + upon the bed after mine host had left me, and turned my thoughts to it. It + was none of the trivial incidents that had marked my coming; but it was, I + think, the combination of them all. First there was the host's desire to + separate me from my men by suggesting that they should sleep in the + hayloft. Clearly unnecessary, when he was not averse to turning his common + room into a dormitory. There was his very evident relief when, after + announcing that I would have them sleep one in my room and one in the + passage by my door, I consented to their spending the night below; there + was the presence of those two very ill-looking cut-throats; there was the + attempt to carry off my sword; and, lastly, there was that creaking door + and the host's note of alarm. + </p> + <p> + What was that? + </p> + <p> + I stood up suddenly. Had my fancy, dwelling upon that very incident, + tricked me into believing that a door had creaked again? I listened, but a + silence followed, broken only by a drone of voices ascending from the + common room. As I had assured the host upon the stairs, so I now assured + myself that it was the wind, the signboard of the inn, perhaps, swaying in + the storm. + </p> + <p> + And then, when I had almost dismissed my doubts, and was about to divest + myself of my remaining clothes, I saw something at which I thanked Heaven + that I had not allowed the landlord to carry off my rapier. My eyes were + on the door, and, as I gazed, I beheld the slow raising of the latch. It + was no delusion; my wits were keen and my eyes sharp; there was no fear to + make me see things that were not. Softly I stepped to the bed-rail where I + had hung my sword by the baldrick, and as softly I unsheathed it. The door + was pushed open, and I caught the advance of a stealthy step. A naked foot + shot past the edge of the door into my room, and for a second I thought of + pinning it to the ground with my rapier; then came a leg, then a + half-dressed body surmounted by a face—the face of Rodenard! + </p> + <p> + At sight of it, amazement and a hundred suspicions crossed my mind. How, + in God's name, came he here, and for what purpose did he steal so into my + chamber? + </p> + <p> + But my suspicions perished even as they were begotten. There was so + momentous, so alarmingly warning a look on his face as he whispered the + one word “Monseigneur!” that clearly if danger there was to me it was not + from him. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil—” I began. + </p> + <p> + But at the sound of my voice the alarm grew in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Sh!” he whispered, his finger on his lips. “Be silent, monseigneur, for + Heaven's sake!” + </p> + <p> + Very softly he closed the door; softly, yet painfully, he hobbled forward + to my side. + </p> + <p> + “There is a plot to murder you, monseigneur,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “What! Here at Blagnac?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded fearfully. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” I laughed. “You rave, man. Who was to know that I was to come this + way? And who is there to plot against my life?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Saint-Eustache.” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “And for the rest, as to expecting you here, they did not, but they were + prepared against the remote chance of your coming. From what I have + gathered, there is not a hostelry betwixt this and Lavedan at which the + Chevalier has not left his cutthroats with the promise of enormous reward + to the men who shall kill you.” + </p> + <p> + I caught my breath at that. My doubts vanished. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what you know,” said I. “Be brief.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon this faithful dog, whom I had so sorely beaten but four nights + ago, told me how, upon finding himself able to walk once more, he had gone + to seek me out, that he might implore me to forgive him and not cast him + off altogether, after a lifetime spent in the service of my father and of + myself. + </p> + <p> + He had discovered from Monsieur de Castelroux that I was gone to Lavedan, + and he determined to follow me thither. He had no horse and little money, + and so he had set out afoot that very day, and dragged himself as far as + Blagnac, where, however, his strength had given out, and he was forced to + halt. A providence it seemed that this had so befallen. For here at the + Etoile he had that evening overheard Saint-Eustache in conversation with + those two bravi below stairs. It would seem from what he had said that at + every hostelry from Grenade to Toulouse—at which it was conceivable + that I might spend the night—the Chevalier had made a similar + provision. + </p> + <p> + At Blagnac, if I got so far without halting, I must arrive very late, and + therefore the Chevalier had bidden his men await me until daylight. He did + not believe, however, that I should travel so far, for he had seen to it + that I should find no horses at the posthouses. But it was just possible + that I might, nevertheless, push on, and Saint-Eustache would let no + possibility be overlooked. Here at Blagnac the landlord, Rodenard informed + me, was also in Saint-Eustache's pay. Their intention was to stab me as I + slept. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he ended, “knowing what danger awaited you along the road, + I have sat up all night, praying God and His saints that you might come + this far, and that thus I might warn you. Had I been less bruised and + sore, I had got myself a horse and ridden out to meet you; as it was, I + could but hope and pray that you would reach Blagnac, and that—” + </p> + <p> + I gathered him into my arms at that, but my embrace drew a groan from him, + for the poor, faithful knave was very sore. + </p> + <p> + “My poor Ganymede!” I murmured, and I was more truly moved to sympathy, I + think, than ever I had been in all my selfish life. Hearing his sobriquet, + a look of hope gleamed suddenly in his eye. + </p> + <p> + “You will take me back, monseigneur?” he pleaded. “You will take me back, + will you not? I swear that I will never let my tongue—” + </p> + <p> + “Sh, my good Ganymede. Not only will I take you back, but I shall strive + to make amends for my brutality. Come, my friend, you shall have twenty + golden Louis to buy unguents for your poor shoulders.” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur is very good,” he murmured, whereupon I would have embraced + him again but that he shivered and drew back. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, monseigneur,” he whispered fearfully. “It is a great honour, but + it—it pains me to be touched.” + </p> + <p> + “Then take the will for the deed. And now for these gentlemen below + stairs.” I rose and moved to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Order Gilles to beat their brains out,” was Ganymede's merciful + suggestion. + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. “We might be detained for doing murder. We have no proof + yet of their intentions—I think—” An idea flashed suddenly + across my mind. “Go back to your room, Ganymede,” I bade him. “Lock + yourself in, and do not stir until I call you. I do not wish their + suspicions aroused.” + </p> + <p> + I opened the door, and as Ganymede obediently slipped past me and vanished + down the passage “Monsieur l'Hote,” I called. “Ho, there, Gilles!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” answered the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” replied Gilles; and there came a stir below. + </p> + <p> + “Is aught amiss?” the landlord questioned, a note of concern in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Amiss?” I echoed peevishly, mincing my words as I uttered them. “Pardi! + Must I be put to it to undress myself, whilst those two lazy dogs of mine + are snoring beneath me? Come up this instant, Gilles. And,” I added as an + afterthought, “you had best sleep here in my room.” + </p> + <p> + “At once, monseigneur,” answered he, but I caught the faintest tinge of + surprise in his accents, for never yet had it fallen to the lot of sturdy, + clumsy Gilles to assist me at my toilet. + </p> + <p> + The landlord muttered something, and I heard Gilles whispering his reply. + Then the stairs creaked under his heavy tread. + </p> + <p> + In my room I told him in half a dozen words what was afoot. For answer, he + swore a great oath that the landlord had mulled a stoup of wine for him, + which he never doubted now was drugged. I bade him go below and fetch the + wine, telling the landlord that I, too had a fancy for it. + </p> + <p> + “But what of Antoine?” he asked. “They will drug him.” + </p> + <p> + “Let them. We can manage this affair, you and I, without his help. If they + did not drug him, they might haply stab him. So that in being drugged lies + his safety.” + </p> + <p> + As I bade him so he did, and presently he returned with a great steaming + measure. This I emptied into a ewer, then returned it to him that he might + take it back to the host with my thanks and our appreciation. Thus should + we give them confidence that the way was clear and smooth for them. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter there befell precisely that which already you will be + expecting, and nothing that you cannot guess. It was perhaps at the end of + an hour's silent waiting that one of them came. We had left the door + unbarred so that his entrance was unhampered. But scarce was he within + when out of the dark, on either side of him, rose Gilles and I. Before he + had realized it, he was lifted off his feet and deposited upon the bed + without a cry; the only sound being the tinkle of the knife that dropped + from his suddenly unnerved hand. + </p> + <p> + On the bed, with Gilles's great knee in his stomach, and Gilles's hands at + his throat, he was assured in unequivocal terms that at his slightest + outcry we would make an end of him. I kindled a light. We trussed him hand + and foot with the bedclothes, and then, whilst he lay impotent and silent + in his terror, I proceeded to discuss the situation with him. + </p> + <p> + I pointed out that we knew that what he had done he had done at + Saint-Eustache's instigation, therefore the true guilt was + Saint-Eustache's and upon him alone the punishment should fall. But ere + this could come to pass, he himself must add his testimony to ours—mine + and Rodenard's. If he would come to Toulouse and do that make a full + confession of how he had been set to do this murdering—the Chevalier + de Saint-Eustache, who was the real culprit, should be the only one to + suffer the penalty of the law. If he would not do that, why, then, he must + stand the consequences himself—and the consequences would be the + hangman. But in either case he was coming to Toulouse in the morning. + </p> + <p> + It goes without saying that he was reasonable. I never for a moment held + his judgment in doubt; there is no loyalty about a cut-throat, and it is + not the way of his calling to take unnecessary risk. + </p> + <p> + We had just settled the matter in a mutually agreeable manner when the + door opened again, and his confederate—rendered uneasy, no doubt, by + his long absence—came to see what could be occasioning this + unconscionable delay in the slitting of the throats of a pair of sleeping + men. + </p> + <p> + Beholding us there in friendly conclave, and no doubt considering that + under the circumstances his intrusion was nothing short of an + impertinence, that polite gentleman uttered a cry—which I should + like to think was an apology for having disturbed us and turned to go with + most indecorous precipitancy. + </p> + <p> + But Gilles took him by the nape of his dirty neck and haled him back into + the room. In less time than it takes me to tell of it, he lay beside his + colleague, and was being asked whether he did not think that he might also + come to take the same view of the situation. Overjoyed that we intended no + worse by him, he swore by every saint in the calendar that he would do our + will, that he had reluctantly undertaken the Chevalier's business, that he + was no cut-throat, but a poor man with a wife and children to provide for. + </p> + <p> + And that, in short, was how it came to pass that the Chevalier de + Saint-Eustache himself, by disposing for my destruction, disposed only for + his own. With these two witnesses, and Rodenard to swear how + Saint-Eustache had bribed them to cut my throat, with myself and Gilles to + swear how the attempt had been made and frustrated, I could now go to His + Majesty with a very full confidence, not only of having the Chevalier's + accusations, against whomsoever they might be, discredited, but also of + sending the Chevalier himself to the gallows he had so richly earned. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. LOUIS THE JUST + </h2> + <p> + “For me,” said the King, “these depositions were not necessary. Your word, + my dear Marcel, would have sufficed. For the courts, however, perhaps it + is well that you have had them taken; moreover, they form a valuable + corroboration of the treason which you lay to the charge of Monsieur de + Saint-Eustache.” + </p> + <p> + We were standing—at least, La Fosse and I were standing, Louis XIII + sat—in a room, of the Palace of Toulouse, where I had had the honour + of being brought before His Majesty. La Fosse was there, because it would + seem that the King had grown fond of him, and could not be without him + since his coming to Toulouse. + </p> + <p> + His Majesty was, as usual, so dull and weary—not even roused by the + approaching trial of Montmorency, which was the main business that had + brought him South that even the company of this vapid, shallow, but + irrepressibly good-humoured La Fosse, with his everlasting mythology, + proved a thing desirable. + </p> + <p> + “I will see,” said Louis, “that your friend the Chevalier is placed under + arrest at once, and as much for his attempt upon your life as for the + unstable quality of his political opinions, the law shall deal with him—conclusively.” + He sighed. “It always pains me to proceed to extremes against a man of his + stamp. To deprive a fool of his head seems a work of supererogation.” + </p> + <p> + I inclined my head, and smiled at his pleasantry. Louis the just rarely + permitted himself to jest, and when he did his humour was as like unto + humour as water is like unto wine. Still, when a monarch jests, if you are + wise, if you have a favour to sue, or a position at Court to seek or to + maintain, you smile, for all that the ineptitude of his witless wit be + rather provocative of sorrow. + </p> + <p> + “Nature needs meddling with at times,” hazarded La Fosse, from behind His + Majesty's chair. “This Saint-Eustache is a sort of Pandora's box, which it + is well to close ere—” + </p> + <p> + “Go to the devil,” said the King shortly. “We are not jesting. We have to + do justice.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Justice,” murmured La Fosse; “I have seen pictures of the lady. She + covers her eyes with a bandage, but is less discreet where the other + beauties of her figure are in question.” + </p> + <p> + His Majesty blushed. He was above all things a chaste-minded man, modest + as a nun. To the immodesty rampant about him he was in the habit of + closing his eyes and his ears, until the flagrancy or the noise of it grew + to proportions to which he might remain neither blind nor deaf. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de la Fosse,” said he in an austere voice, “you weary me, and + when people weary me I send them away—which is one of the reasons + why I am usually so much alone. I beg that you will glance at that + hunting-book, so that when I have done with Monsieur de Bardelys you may + give me your impressions of it.” + </p> + <p> + La Fosse fell back, obedient but unabashed, and, moving to a table by the + window, he opened the book Louis had pointed out. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Marcel, while that buffoon prepares to inform me that the book has + been inspired by Diana herself, tell me what else you have to tell.” + </p> + <p> + “Naught else, Sire.” + </p> + <p> + “How naught? What of this Vicomte de Lavedan.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely Your Majesty is satisfied that there is no charge—no heedful + charge against him?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, but there is a charge—a very heedful one. And so far you have + afforded me no proofs of his innocence to warrant my sanctioning his + enlargement.” + </p> + <p> + “I had thought, Sire, that it would be unnecessary to advance proofs of + his innocence until there were proofs of his guilt to be refuted. It is + unusual, Your Majesty, to apprehend a gentleman so that he may show cause + why he did not deserve such apprehension. The more usual course is to + arrest him because there are proofs of his guilt to be preferred against + him.” + </p> + <p> + Louis combed his beard pensively, and his melancholy eyes grew thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + “A nice point, Marcel,” said he, and he yawned. “A nice point. You should + have been a lawyer.” Then, with an abrupt change of manner, “Do you give + me your word of honour that he is innocent?” he asked sharply. + </p> + <p> + “If Your Majesty's judges offer proof of his guilt, I give you my word + that I will tear that proof to pieces.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not an answer. Do you swear his innocence?” + </p> + <p> + “Do I know what he carries in his conscience?” quoth I still fencing with + the question. “How can I give my word in such a matter? Ah, Sire, it is + not for nothing that they call you Louis the Just,” I pursued, adopting + cajolery and presenting him with his own favourite phrase. “You will never + allow a man against whom there is no shred of evidence to be confined in + prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there not?” he questioned. Yet his tone grew gentler. History, he had + promised himself, should know him as Louis the Just, and he would do + naught that might jeopardize his claim to that proud title. “There is the + evidence of this Saint-Eustache!” + </p> + <p> + “Would Your Majesty hang a dog upon the word of that double traitor?” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! You are a great advocate, Marcel. You avoid answering questions; you + turn questions aside by counter-questions.” He seemed to be talking more + to himself than tome. “You are a much better advocate than the Vicomte's + wife, for instance. She answers questions and has a temper—Ciel! + what a temper!” + </p> + <p> + “You have seen the Vicomtesse?” I exclaimed, and I grew cold with + apprehension, knowing as I did the licence of that woman's tongue. + </p> + <p> + “Seen her?” he echoed whimsically. “I have seen her, heard her, well-nigh + felt her. The air of this room is still disturbed as a consequence of her + presence. She was here an hour ago.” + </p> + <p> + “And it seemed,” lisped La Fosse, turning from his hunting-book, “as if + the three daughters of Acheron had quitted the domain of Pluto to take + embodiment in a single woman.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not have seen her,” the King resumed as though La Fosse had not + spoken, “but she would not be denied. I heard her voice blaspheming in the + antechamber when I refused to receive her; there was a commotion at my + door; it was dashed open, and the Swiss who held it was hurled into my + room here as though he had been a mannikin. Dieu! Since I have reigned in + France I have not been the centre of so much commotion. She is a strong + woman, Marcel the saints defend you hereafter, when she shall come to be + your mother-in-law. In all France, I'll swear, her tongue is the only + stouter thing than her arm. But she's a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “What did she say, Sire?” I asked in my anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Say? She swore—Ciel! how she did swear! Not a saint in the calendar + would she let rest in peace; she dragged them all by turns from their + chapter-rolls to bear witness to the truth of what she said.” + </p> + <p> + “That was—” + </p> + <p> + “That her husband was the foulest traitor out of hell. But that he was a + fool with no wit of his own to make him accountable for what he did, and + that out of folly he had gone astray. Upon those grounds she besought me + to forgive him and let him go. When I told her that he must stand his + trial, and that I could offer her but little hope of his acquittal, she + told me things about myself, which in my conceit, and thanks to you + flatterers who have surrounded me, I had never dreamed. + </p> + <p> + “She told me I was ugly, sour-faced, and malformed; that I was + priest-ridden and a fool; unlike my brother, who, she assured me, is a + mirror of chivalry and manly perfections. She promised me that Heaven + should never receive my soul, though I told my beads from now till + Doomsday, and she prophesied for me a welcome among the damned when my + time comes. What more she might have foretold I cannot say. She wearied me + at last, for all her novelty, and I dismissed her—that is to say,” + he amended, “I ordered four musketeers to carry her out. God pity you, + Marcel, when you become her daughter's husband!” + </p> + <p> + But I had no heart to enter into his jocularity. This woman with her + ungovernable passion and her rash tongue had destroyed everything. + </p> + <p> + “I see no likelihood of being her daughter's husband,” I answered + mournfully. + </p> + <p> + The King looked up, and laughed. “Down on your knees, then,” said he, “and + render thanks to Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + But I shook my head very soberly. “To Your Majesty it is a pleasing + comedy,” said I, “but to me, helas! it is nearer far to tragedy.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, Marcel,” said he, “may I not laugh a little? One grows so sad with + being King of France! Tell me what vexes you.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle de Lavedan has promised that she will marry me only when I + have saved her father from the scaffold. I came to do it, very full of + hope, Sire. But his wife has forestalled me and, seemingly, doomed him + irrevocably.” + </p> + <p> + His glance fell; his countenance resumed its habitual gloom. Then he + looked up again, and in the melancholy depths of his eyes I saw a gleam of + something that was very like affection. + </p> + <p> + “You know that I love you, Marcel,” he said gently. “Were you my own son I + could not love you more. You are a profligate, dissolute knave, and your + scandals have rung in my ears more than once; yet you are different from + these other fools, and at least you have never wearied me. To have done + that is to have done something. I would not lose you, Marcel; as lose you + I shall if you marry this rose of Languedoc, for I take it that she is too + sweet a flower to let wither in the stale atmosphere of Courts. This man, + this Vicomte de Lavedan, has earned his death. Why should I not let him + die, since if he dies you will not wed?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you ask me why, Sire?” said I. “Because they call you Louis the Just, + and because no king was ever more deserving of the title.” + </p> + <p> + He winced; he pursed his lips, and shot a glance at La Fosse, who was deep + in the mysteries of his volume. Then he drew towards him a sheet of paper, + and, taking a quill, he sat toying with it. + </p> + <p> + “Because they call me the Just, I must let justice take its course,” he + answered presently. + </p> + <p> + “But,” I objected, with a sudden hope, “the course of justice cannot lead + to the headsman in the case of the Vicomte de Lavedan.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” And his solemn eyes met mine across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Because he took no active part in the revolt. If he was a traitor, he was + no more than a traitor at heart, and until a man commits a crime in deed + he is not amenable to the law's rigour. His wife has made his defection + clear; but it were unfair to punish him in the same measure as you punish + those who bore arms against you, Sire.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he pondered. “Well? What more?” + </p> + <p> + “Is that not enough, Sire?” I cried. My heart beat quickly, and my pulses + throbbed with the suspense of that portentous moment. + </p> + <p> + He bent his head, dipped his pen and began to write. + </p> + <p> + “What punishment would you have me mete out to him?” he asked as he wrote. + “Come, Marcel, deal fairly with me, and deal fairly with him—for as + you deal with him, so shall I deal with you through him.” + </p> + <p> + I felt myself paling in my excitement. “There is banishment, Sire—it + is usual in cases of treason that are not sufficiently flagrant to be + punished by death.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” He wrote busily. “Banishment for how long, Marcel? For his + lifetime?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Sire. That were too long.” + </p> + <p> + “For my lifetime, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Again that were too long.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his eyes and smiled. “Ah! You turn prophet? Well, for how long, + then? Come, man.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think five years—” + </p> + <p> + “Five years be it. Say no more.” + </p> + <p> + He wrote on for a few moments; then he raised the sandbox and sprinkled + the document. + </p> + <p> + “Tiens!” he cried, as he dusted it and held it out to me. “There is my + warrant for the disposal of Monsieur le Vicomte Leon de Lavedan. He is to + go into banishment for five years, but his estates shall suffer no + sequestration, and at the end of that period he may return and enjoy them—we + hope with better loyalty than in the past. Get them to execute that + warrant at once, and see that the Vicomte starts to-day under escort for + Spain. It will also be your warrant to Mademoiselle de Lavedan, and will + afford proof to her that your mission has been successful.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire!” I cried. And in my gratitude I could say no more, but I sank on my + knee before him and raised his hand to my lips. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said he in a fatherly voice. “Go now, and be happy.” + </p> + <p> + As I rose, he suddenly put up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Ma foi, I had all but forgotten, so much has Monsieur de Lavedan's fate + preoccupied us.” He picked up another paper from his table, and tossed it + to me. It was my note of hand to Chatellerault for my Picardy estates. + </p> + <p> + “Chatellerault died this morning,” the King pursued. “He had been asking + to see you, but when he was told that you had left Toulouse, he dictated a + long confession of his misdeeds, which he sent to me together with this + note of yours. He could not, he wrote, permit his heirs to enjoy your + estates; he had not won them; he had really forfeited his own stakes, + since he had broken the rules of play. He has left me to deliver judgment + in the matter of his own lands passing into your possession. What do you + say to it, Marcel?” + </p> + <p> + It was almost with reluctance that I took up that scrap of paper. It had + been so fine and heroic a thing to have cast my wealth to the winds of + heaven for love's sake, that on my soul I was loath to see myself master + of more than Beaugency. Then a compromise suggested itself. + </p> + <p> + “The wager, Sire,” said I, “is one that I take shame in having entered + upon; that shame made me eager to pay it, although fully conscious that I + had not lost. But even now, I cannot, in any case, accept the forfeit + Chatellerault was willing to suffer. Shall we—shall we forget that + the wager was ever laid?” + </p> + <p> + “The decision does you honour. It was what I had hoped from you. Go now, + Marcel. I doubt me you are eager. When your love-sickness wanes a little + we shall hope to see you at Court again.” + </p> + <p> + I sighed. “Helas, Sire, that would be never.” + </p> + <p> + “So you said once before, monsieur. It is a foolish spirit upon which to + enter into matrimony; yet—like many follies—a fine one. Adieu, + Marcel!” + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, Sire!” + </p> + <p> + I had kissed his hands; I had poured forth my thanks; I had reached the + door already, and he was in the act of turning to La Fosse, when it came + into my head to glance at the warrant he had given me. He noticed this and + my sudden halt. + </p> + <p> + “Is aught amiss?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You-you have omitted something, Sire,” I ventured, and I returned to the + table. “I am already so grateful that I hesitate to ask an additional + favour. Yet it is but troubling you to add a few strokes of the pen, and + it will not materially affect the sentence itself.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced at me, and his brows drew together as he sought to guess my + meaning. + </p> + <p> + “Well, man, what is it?” he demanded impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “It has occurred to me that this poor Vicomte, in a strange land, alone, + among strange faces, missing the loved ones that for so many years he has + seen daily by his side, will be pitiably lonely.” + </p> + <p> + The King's glance was lifted suddenly to my face. “Must I then banish his + family as well?” + </p> + <p> + “All of it will not be necessary, Your Majesty.” + </p> + <p> + For once his eyes lost their melancholy, and as hearty a burst of laughter + as ever I heard from that poor, weary gentleman he vented then. + </p> + <p> + “Ciel! what a jester you are! Ah, but I shall miss you!” he cried, as, + seizing the pen, he added the word I craved of him. + </p> + <p> + “Are you content at last?” he asked, returning the paper to me. + </p> + <p> + I glanced at it. The warrant now stipulated that Madame la Vicomtesse de + Lavedan should bear her husband company in his exile. + </p> + <p> + “Sire, you are too good!” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Tell the officer to whom you entrust the execution of this warrant that + he will find the lady in the guardroom below, where she is being detained, + pending my pleasure. Did she but know that it was your pleasure she has + been waiting upon, I should tremble for your future when the five years + expire.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. WE UNSADDLE + </h2> + <p> + Mademoiselle held the royal warrant of her father's banishment in her + hand. She was pale, and her greeting of me had been timid. I stood before + her, and by the door stood Rodenard, whom I had bidden attend me. + </p> + <p> + As I had approached Lavedan that day, I had been taken with a great, an + overwhelming shame at the bargain I had driven. I had pondered, and it had + come to me that she had been right to suggest that in matters of love what + is not freely given it is not worth while to take. And out of my shame and + that conclusion had sprung a new resolve. So that nothing might weaken it, + and lest, after all, the sight of Roxalanne should bring me so to desire + her that I might be tempted to override my purpose, I had deemed it well + to have the restraint of a witness at our last interview. To this end had + I bidden Ganymede follow me into the very salon. + </p> + <p> + She read the document to the very end, then her glance was raised timidly + again to mine, and from me it shifted to Ganymede, stiff at his post by + the door. + </p> + <p> + “This was the best that you could do, monsieur?” she asked at last. + </p> + <p> + “The very best, mademoiselle,” I answered calmly. “I do not wish to + magnify my service, but it was that or the scaffold. Madame your mother + had, unfortunately, seen the King before me, and she had prejudiced your + father's case by admitting him to be a traitor. There was a moment when in + view of that I was almost led to despair. I am glad, however, + mademoiselle, that I was so fortunate as to persuade the King to just so + much clemency.” + </p> + <p> + “And for five years, then, I shall not see my parents.” She sighed, and + her distress was very touching. + </p> + <p> + “That need not be. Though they may not come to France, it still remains + possible for you to visit them in Spain.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” she mused; “that will be something—will it not?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly something; under the circumstances, much.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed again, and for a moment there was silence. + </p> + <p> + “Will you not sit, monsieur?” said she at last. She was very quiet to-day, + this little maid—very quiet and very wondrously subdued. + </p> + <p> + “There is scarce the need,” I answered softly; whereupon her eyes were + raised to ask a hundred questions. “You are satisfied with my efforts, + mademoiselle?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am satisfied, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + That was the end, I told myself, and involuntarily I also sighed. Still, I + made no shift to go. + </p> + <p> + “You are satisfied that I—that I have fulfilled what I promised?” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes were again cast down, and she took a step in the direction of the + window. + </p> + <p> + “But yes. Your promise was to save my father from the scaffold. You have + done so, and I make no doubt you have done as much to reduce the term of + his banishment as lay within your power. Yes, monsieur, I am satisfied + that your promise has been well fulfilled.” + </p> + <p> + Heigho! The resolve that I had formed in coming whispered it in my ear + that nothing remained but to withdraw and go my way. Yet not for all that + resolve—not for a hundred such resolves—could I have gone + thus. One kindly word, one kindly glance at least would I take to comfort + me. I would tell her in plain words of my purpose, and she should see that + there was still some good, some sense of honour in me, and thus should + esteem me after I was gone. + </p> + <p> + “Ganymede.” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur?” + </p> + <p> + “Bid the men mount.” + </p> + <p> + At that she turned, wonder opening her eyes very wide, and her glance + travelled from me to Rodenard with its unspoken question. But even as she + looked at him he bowed and, turning to do my bidding, left the room. We + heard his steps pass with a jingle of spurs across the hall and out into + the courtyard. We heard his raucous voice utter a word of command, and + there was a stamping of hoofs, a cramping of harness, and all the bustle + of preparation. + </p> + <p> + “Why have you ordered your men to mount?” she asked at last. + </p> + <p> + “Because my business here is ended, and we are going.” + </p> + <p> + “Going?” said she. Her eyes were lowered now, but a frown suggested their + expression to me. “Going whither?” + </p> + <p> + “Hence,” I answered. “That for the moment is all that signifies.” I paused + to swallow something that hindered a clear utterance. Then, “Adieu!” said + I, and I abruptly put forth my hand. + </p> + <p> + Her glance met mine fearlessly, if puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean, monsieur, that you are leaving Lavedan—thus?” + </p> + <p> + “So that I leave, what signifies the manner of my going?” + </p> + <p> + “But”—the trouble grew in her eyes; her cheeks seemed to wax paler + than they had been—“but I thought that—that we made a + bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “'Sh! mademoiselle, I implore you,” I cried. “I take shame at the memory + of it. Almost as much shame as I take at the memory of that other bargain + which first brought me to Lavedan. The shame of the former one I have + wiped out—although, perchance, you think it not. I am wiping out the + shame of the latter one. It was unworthy in me, mademoiselle, but I loved + you so dearly that it seemed to me that no matter how I came by you, I + should rest content if I but won you. I have since seen the error if it, + the injustice of it. I will not take what is not freely given. And so, + farewell.” + </p> + <p> + “I see, I see,” she murmured, and ignored the hand that I held out. “I am + very glad of it, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + I withdrew my hand sharply. I took up my hat from the chair on which I had + cast it. She might have spared me that, I thought. She need not have + professed joy. At least she might have taken my hand and parted in + kindness. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, mademoiselle!” I said again, as stiffly as might be, and I turned + towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” she called after me. I halted. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle?” + </p> + <p> + She stood demurely, with eyes downcast and hands folded. “I shall be so + lonely here.” + </p> + <p> + I stood still. I seemed to stiffen. My heart gave a mad throb of hope, + then seemed to stop. What did she mean? I faced her fully once more, and, + I doubt not, I was very pale. Yet lest vanity should befool me, I dared + not act upon suspicions. And so “True, mademoiselle,” said I. “You will be + lonely. I regret it.” + </p> + <p> + As silence followed, I turned again to the door, and my hopes sank with + each step in that direction. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + Her voice arrested me upon the very threshold. + </p> + <p> + “What shall a poor girl do with this great estate upon her hands? It will + go to ruin without a man to govern it.” + </p> + <p> + “You must not attempt the task. You must employ an intendant.” + </p> + <p> + I caught something that sounded oddly like a sob. Could it be? Dieu! could + it be, after all? Yet I would not presume. I half turned again, but her + voice detained me. It came petulantly now. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Bardelys, you have kept your promise nobly. Will you ask no + payment?” + </p> + <p> + “No, mademoiselle,” I answered very softly; “I can take no payment.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes were lifted for a second. Their blue depths seemed dim. Then they + fell again. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why will you not help me?” she burst out, to add more softly: “I + shall never be happy without you!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean?” I gasped, retracing a step, and flinging my hat in a corner. + </p> + <p> + “That I love you, Marcel—that I want you!” + </p> + <p> + “And you can forgive—you can forgive?” I cried, as I caught her. + </p> + <p> + Her answer was a laugh that bespoke her scorn of everything—of + everything save us two, of everything save our love. That and the pout of + her red lips was her answer. And if the temptation of those lips—But + there! I grow indiscreet. + </p> + <p> + Still holding her, I raised my voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ganymede!” I called. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur?” came his answer through the open window. + </p> + <p> + “Bid those knaves dismount and unsaddle.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Bardelys the Magnificent, by Rafael Sabatini + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BARDELYS THE MAGNIFICENT *** + +***** This file should be named 2389-h.htm or 2389-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/8/2389/ + +Produced by Polly Stratton, 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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