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diff --git a/3430-h/3430-h.htm b/3430-h/3430-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de55c93 --- /dev/null +++ b/3430-h/3430-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9392 @@ +<?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> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Suitors of Yvonne, by Rafael Sabatini</title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; 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> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Suitors of Yvonne, by Rafael Sabatini</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Suitors of Yvonne</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Rafael Sabatini</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 20, 2001 [eBook #3430]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 27, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: John Stuart Middleton, and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUITORS OF YVONNE ***</div> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE SUITORS OF YVONNE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Being a Portion of the Memoirs of the Sieur Gaston de Luynes + </h3> + <p> + <br /><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="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> OF HOW A BOY + DRANK TOO MUCH WINE, AND WHAT CAME OF IT <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> THE FRUIT OF + INDISCRETION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> THE + FIGHT IN THE HORSE-MARKET <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER + IV. </a> FAIR RESCUERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> + CHAPTER V. </a> MAZARIN, THE MATCH-MAKER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> OF HOW ANDREA BECAME + LOVE-SICK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> THE + CHÂTEAU DE CANAPLES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. + </a> THE FORESHADOW OF DISASTER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> OF HOW A WHIP PROVED A + BETTER ARGUMENT THAN A TONGUE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> + CHAPTER X. </a> THE CONSCIENCE OF MALPERTUIS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> OF A WOMAN'S OBSTINACY + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> THE + RESCUE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> THE + HAND OF YVONNE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> OF + WHAT BEFELL AT REAUX. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. + </a> OF MY RESURRECTION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> + CHAPTER XVI. </a> THE WAY OF WOMAN <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> FATHER AND SON <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> OF HOW I LEFT + CANAPLES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> OF + MY RETURN TO PARIS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> OF + HOW THE CHEVALIER DE CANAPLES BECAME A FRONDEUR <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> OF THE BARGAIN THAT + ST. AUBAN DROVE WITH MY LORD CARDINAL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> + CHAPTER XXII. </a> OF MY SECOND JOURNEY TO CANAPLES <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> OF + HOW ST. AUBAN CAME TO BLOIS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER + XXIV. </a> OF THE PASSING OF ST. AUBAN <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> PLAY-ACTING <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> REPARATION <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. OF HOW A BOY DRANK TOO MUCH WINE, AND WHAT CAME OF IT + </h2> + <p> + Andrea de Mancini sprawled, ingloriously drunk, upon the floor. His legs + were thrust under the table, and his head rested against the chair from + which he had slipped; his long black hair was tossed and dishevelled; his + handsome, boyish face flushed and garbed in the vacant expression of + idiocy. + </p> + <p> + “I beg a thousand pardons, M. de Luynes,” quoth he in the thick, + monotonous voice of a man whose brain but ill controls his tongue,—“I + beg a thousand pardons for the unseemly poverty of our repast. 'T is no + fault of mine. My Lord Cardinal keeps a most unworthy table for me. Faugh! + Uncle Giulio is a Hebrew—if not by birth, by instinct. He carries + his purse-strings in a knot which it would break his heart to unfasten. + But there! some day my Lord Cardinal will go to heaven—to the lap of + Abraham. I shall be rich then, vastly rich, and I shall bid you to a + banquet worthy of your most noble blood. The Cardinal's health—perdition + have him for the niggardliest rogue unhung!” + </p> + <p> + I pushed back my chair and rose. The conversation was taking a turn that + was too unhealthy to be pursued within the walls of the Palais Mazarin, + where there existed, albeit the law books made no reference to it, the + heinous crime of lèse-Eminence—a crime for which more men had been + broken than it pleases me to dwell on. + </p> + <p> + “Your table, Master Andrea, needs no apology,” I answered carelessly. + “Your wine, for instance, is beyond praise.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! The wine! But, ciel! Monsieur,” he ejaculated, for a moment + opening wide his heavy eyelids, “do you believe 't was Mazarin provided + it? Pooh! 'T was a present made me by M. de la Motte, who seeks my + interest with my Lord Cardinal to obtain for him an appointment in his + Eminence's household, and thus thinks to earn my good will. He's a + pestilent creature, this la Motte,” he added, with a hiccough,—“a + pestilent creature; but, Sangdieu! his wine is good, and I'll speak to my + uncle. Help me up, De Luynes. Help me up, I say; I would drink the health + of this provider of wines.” + </p> + <p> + I hurried forward, but he had struggled up unaided, and stood swaying with + one hand on the table and the other on the back of his chair. In vain did + I remonstrate with him that already he had drunk overmuch. + </p> + <p> + “'T is a lie!” he shouted. “May not a gentleman sit upon the floor from + choice?” + </p> + <p> + To emphasise his protestation he imprudently withdrew his hand from the + chair and struck at the air with his open palm. That gesture cost him his + balance. He staggered, toppled backward, and clutched madly at the + tablecloth as he fell, dragging glasses, bottles, dishes, tapers, and a + score of other things besides, with a deafening crash on to the floor. + </p> + <p> + Then, as I stood aghast and alarmed, wondering who might have overheard + the thunder of his fall, the fool sat up amidst the ruins, and filled the + room with his shrieks of drunken laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Silence, boy!” I thundered, springing towards him. “Silence! or we shall + have the whole house about our ears.” + </p> + <p> + And truly were my fears well grounded, for, before I could assist him to + rise, I heard the door behind me open. Apprehensively I turned, and + sickened to see that that which I had dreaded most was come to pass. A + tall, imposing figure in scarlet robes stood erect and scowling on the + threshold, and behind him his valet, Bernouin, bearing a lighted taper. + </p> + <p> + Mancini's laugh faded into a tremulous cackle, then died out, and with + gaping mouth and glassy eyes he sat there staring at his uncle. + </p> + <p> + Thus we stayed in silence while a man might count mayhap a dozen; then the + Cardinal's voice rang harsh and full of anger. + </p> + <p> + “'T is thus that you fulfil your trust, M. de Luynes!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Your Eminence—” I began, scarce knowing what I should say, when he + cut me short. + </p> + <p> + “I will deal with you presently and elsewhere.” He stepped up to Andrea, + and surveyed him for a moment in disgust. “Get up, sir!” he commanded. + “Get up!” + </p> + <p> + The lad sought to obey him with an alacrity that merited a kinder fate. + Had he been in less haste perchance he had been more successful. As it + was, he had got no farther than his knees when his right leg slid from + under him, and he fell prone among the shattered tableware, mumbling + curses and apologies in a breath. + </p> + <p> + Mazarin stood gazing at him with an eye that was eloquent in scorn, then + bending down he spoke quickly to him in Italian. What he said I know not, + being ignorant of their mother tongue; but from the fierceness of his + utterance I'll wager my soul 't was nothing sweet to listen to. When he + had done with him, he turned to his valet. + </p> + <p> + “Bernouin,” said he, “summon M. de Mancini's servant and assist him to get + my nephew to bed. M. de Luynes, be good enough to take Bernouin's taper + and light me back to my apartments.” + </p> + <p> + Unsavoury as was the task, I had no choice but to obey, and to stalk on in + front of him, candle in hand, like an acolyte at Notre Dame, and in my + heart the profound conviction that I was about to have a bad quarter of an + hour with his Eminence. Nor was I wrong; for no sooner had we reached his + cabinet and the door had been closed than he turned upon me the full + measure of his wrath. + </p> + <p> + “You miserable fool!” he snarled. “Did you think to trifle with the trust + which in a misguided moment I placed in you? Think you that, when a week + ago I saved you from starvation to clothe and feed you and give you a + lieutenancy in my guards, I should endure so foul an abuse as this? Think + you that I entrusted M. de Mancini's training in arms to you so that you + might lead him into the dissolute habits which have dragged you down to + what you are—to what you were before I rescued you—to what you + will be to-morrow when I shall have again abandoned you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hear me, your Eminence!” I cried indignantly. “'T is no fault of mine. + Some fool hath sent M. de Mancini a basket of wine and—” + </p> + <p> + “And you showed him how to abuse it,” he broke in harshly. “You have + taught the boy to become a sot; in time, were he to remain under your + guidance, I make no doubt but that he would become a gamester and a + duellist as well. I was mad, perchance, to give him into your care; but I + have the good fortune to be still in time, before the mischief has sunk + farther, to withdraw him from it, and to cast you back into the kennel + from which I picked you.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Eminence does not mean—” + </p> + <p> + “As God lives I do!” he cried. “You shall quit the Palais Royal this very + night, M. de Luynes, and if ever I find you unbidden within half a mile of + it, I will do that which out of a misguided sense of compassion I do not + do now—I will have you flung into an oubliette of the Bastille, + where better men than you have rotted before to-day. Per Dio! do you think + that I am to be fooled by such a thing as you?” + </p> + <p> + “Does your Eminence dismiss me?” I cried aghast, and scarce crediting that + such was indeed the extreme measure upon which he had determined. + </p> + <p> + “Have I not been plain enough?” he answered with a snarl. + </p> + <p> + I realised to the full my unenviable position, and with the realisation of + it there overcame me the recklessness of him who has played his last stake + at the tables and lost. That recklessness it was that caused me to shrug + my shoulders with a laugh. I was a soldier of fortune—or should I + say a soldier of misfortune?—as rich in vice as I was poor in + virtue; a man who lived by the steel and parried the blows that came as + best he might, or parried them not at all—but never quailed. + </p> + <p> + “As your Eminence pleases,” I answered coolly, “albeit methinks that for + one who has shed his blood for France as freely as I have done, a little + clemency were not unfitting.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his eyebrows, and his lips curled in a malicious sneer. + </p> + <p> + “You come of a family, M. de Luynes,” he said slowly, “that is famed for + having shed the blood of others for France more freely than its own. You + are, I believe, the nephew of Albert de Luynes. Do you forget the Marshal + d'Ancre?” + </p> + <p> + I felt the blood of anger hot in my face as I made haste to answer him: + </p> + <p> + “There are many of us, Monseigneur, who have cause to blush for the + families they spring from—more cause, mayhap, than hath Gaston de + Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + In my words perchance there was no offensive meaning, but in my tone and + in the look which I bent upon the Cardinal there was that which told him + that I alluded to his own obscure and dubious origin. He grew livid, and + for a moment methought he would have struck me: had he done so, then, + indeed, the history of Europe would have been other than it is to-day! He + restrained himself, however, and drawing himself to the full height of his + majestic figure he extended his arm towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Go,” he said, in a voice that passion rendered hoarse. “Go, Monsieur. Go + quickly, while my clemency endures. Go before I summon the guard and deal + with you as your temerity deserves.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed—not without a taint of mockery, for I cared little what + might follow; then, with head erect and the firm tread of defiance, I + stalked out of his apartment, along the corridor, down the great + staircase, across the courtyard, past the guard,—which, ignorant of + my disgrace, saluted me,—and out into the street. + </p> + <p> + Then at last my head sank forward on my breast, and deep in thought I + wended my way home, oblivious of all around me, even the chill bite of the + February wind. + </p> + <p> + In my mind I reviewed my wasted life, with the fleeting pleasures and the + enduring sorrows that it had brought me—or that I had drawn from it. + The Cardinal said no more than truth when he spoke of having saved me from + starvation. A week ago that was indeed what he had done. He had taken pity + on Gaston de Luynes, the nephew of that famous Albert de Luynes who had + been Constable of France in the early days of the late king's reign; he + had made me lieutenant of his guards and maître d'armes to his nephews + Andrea and Paolo de Mancini because he knew that a better blade than mine + could not be found in France, and because he thought it well to have such + swords as mine about him. + </p> + <p> + A little week ago life had been replete with fresh promises, the gates of + the road to fame (and perchance fortune) had been opened to me anew, and + now—before I had fairly passed that gate I had been thrust rudely + back, and it had been slammed in my face because it pleased a fool to + become a sot whilst in my company. + </p> + <p> + There is a subtle poetry in the contemplation of ruin. With ruin itself, + howbeit, there comes a prosaic dispelling of all idle dreams—a hard, + a grim, a vile reality. + </p> + <p> + Ruin! 'T is an ugly word. A fitting one to carve upon the tombstone of a + reckless, godless, dissolute life such as mine had been. + </p> + <p> + Back, Gaston de Luynes! back, to the kennel whence the Cardinal's hand did + for a moment pluck you; back, from the morning of hope to the night of + despair; back, to choose between starvation and the earning of a pauper's + fee as a master of fence! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE FRUIT OF INDISCRETION + </h2> + <p> + Despite the dejection to which I had become a prey, I slept no less + soundly that night than was my wont, and indeed it was not until late next + morning when someone knocked at my door that I awakened. + </p> + <p> + I sat up in bed, and my first thought as I looked round the handsome room—which + I had rented a week ago upon receiving the lieutenancy in the Cardinal's + guards—was for the position that I had lost and of the need that + there would be ere long to seek a lodging more humble and better suited to + my straitened circumstances. It was not without regret that such a thought + came to me, for my tastes had never been modest, and the house was a fine + one, situated in the Rue St. Antoine at a hundred paces or so from the + Jesuit convent. + </p> + <p> + I had no time, however, to indulge the sorry mood that threatened to beset + me, for the knocking at my chamber door continued, until at length I + answered it with a command to enter. + </p> + <p> + It was my servant Michelot, a grizzled veteran of huge frame and strength, + who had fought beside me at Rocroi, and who had thereafter become so + enamoured of my person—for some trivial service he swore I had + rendered him—that he had attached himself to me and my luckless + fortunes. + </p> + <p> + He came to inform me that M. de Mancini was below and craved immediate + speech with me. He had scarce done speaking, however, when Andrea himself, + having doubtless grown tired of waiting, appeared in the doorway. He wore + a sickly look, the result of his last night's debauch; but, more than + that, there was stamped upon his face a look of latent passion which made + me think at first that he was come to upbraid me. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, still abed, Luynes?” was his greeting as he came forward. + </p> + <p> + His cloak was wet and his boots splashed, which told me both that he had + come afoot and that it rained. + </p> + <p> + “There are no duties that bid me rise,” I answered sourly. + </p> + <p> + He frowned at that, then, divesting himself of his cloak, he gave it to + Michelot, who, at a sign from me, withdrew. No sooner was the door closed + than the boy's whole manner changed. The simmering passion of which I had + detected signs welled up and seemed to choke him as he poured forth the + story that he had come to tell. + </p> + <p> + “I have been insulted,” he gasped. “Grossly insulted by a vile creature of + Monsieur d'Orleans's household. An hour ago in the ante-chamber at the + Palais Royal I was spoken of in my hearing as the besotted nephew of the + Italian adventurer.” + </p> + <p> + I sat up in bed tingling with excitement at the developments which already + I saw arising from his last night's imprudence. + </p> + <p> + “Calmly, Andrea,” I begged of him, “tell me calmly.” + </p> + <p> + “Mortdieu! How can I be calm? Ough! The thought of it chokes me. I was a + fool last night—a sot. For that, perchance, men have some right to + censure me. But, Sangdieu! that a ruffler of the stamp of Eugène de + Canaples should speak of it—should call me the nephew of an Italian + adventurer, should draw down upon me the cynical smile of a crowd of + courtly apes—pah! I am sick at the memory of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you answer him?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu! I should be worthy of the title he bestowed upon me had I not + done so. Oh, I answered him—not in words. I threw my hat in his + face.” + </p> + <p> + “That was a passing eloquent reply!” + </p> + <p> + “So eloquent that it left him speechless with amazement. He thought to + bully with impunity, and see me slink into hiding like a whipped dog, + terrified by his blustering tongue and dangerous reputation. But there!” + he broke off, “a meeting has been arranged for four o'clock at St. + Germain.” + </p> + <p> + “A meeting!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “What else? Do you think the affront left any alternative?” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I know,” he interrupted, tossing his head. “I am going to be + killed. Verville has sworn that there shall be one less of the Italian + brood. That is why I have come to you, Luynes—to ask you to be my + second. I don't deserve it, perhaps. In my folly last night I did you an + ill turn. I unwittingly caused you to be stripped of your commission. But + if I were on my death-bed now, and begged a favour of you, you would not + refuse it. And what difference is there 'twixt me and one who is on his + death-bed? Am I not about to die?” + </p> + <p> + “Peste! I hope not,” I made answer with more lightness than I felt. “But + I'll stand by you with all my heart, Andrea.” + </p> + <p> + “And you'll avenge me?” he cried savagely, his Southern blood a-boiling. + “You'll not let him leave the ground alive?” + </p> + <p> + “Not unless my opponent commits the indiscretion of killing me first. Who + seconds M. de Canaples?” + </p> + <p> + “The Marquis de St. Auban and M. de Montmédy.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is the third in our party?” + </p> + <p> + “I have none. I thought that perhaps you had a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I! A friend?” I laughed bitterly. “Pshaw, Andrea! beggars have no + friends. But stay; find Stanislas de Gouville. There is no better blade in + Paris. If he will join us in this frolic, and you can hold off Canaples + until either St. Auban or Montmédy is disposed of, we may yet leave the + three of them on the field of battle. Courage, Andrea! Dum spiramus, + speramus.” + </p> + <p> + My words seemed to cheer him, and when presently he left me to seek out + the redoubtable Gouville, the poor lad's face was brighter by far than + when he had entered my room. + </p> + <p> + Down in my heart, however, I was less hopeful than I had led him to + believe, and as I dressed after he had gone, 't was not without some + uneasiness that I turned the matter over in my mind. I had, during the + short period of our association, grown fond of Andrea de Mancini. Indeed + the wonted sweetness of the lad's temper, and the gentleness of his + disposition, were such as to breed affection in all who came in contact + with him. In a way, too, methought he had grown fond of me, and I had + known so few friends in life,—truth to tell I fear me that I had few + of the qualities that engender friendship,—that I was naturally + prone to appreciate a gift that from its rareness became doubly valuable. + </p> + <p> + Hence was it that I trembled for the boy. He had shown aptitude with the + foils, and derived great profit from my tuition, yet he was too raw by far + to be pitted against so cunning a swordsman as Canaples. + </p> + <p> + I had but finished dressing when a coach rumbled down the street and + halted by my door. Naturally I supposed that someone came to visit Coupri, + the apothecary,—to whom belonged this house in which I had my + lodging,—and did not give the matter a second thought until Michelot + rushed in, with eyes wide open, to announce that his Eminence, Cardinal + Mazarin, commanded my presence in the adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + Amazed and deeply marvelling what so extraordinary a visit might portend, + I hastened to wait upon his Eminence. + </p> + <p> + I found him standing by the window, and received from him a greeting that + was passing curt and cavalier. + </p> + <p> + “Has M. de Mancini been here?” he inquired peremptorily, disregarding the + chair I offered him. + </p> + <p> + “He has but left me, Monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you know, sir, of the harvest which he has already reaped from the + indiscretion into which you led him last night?” + </p> + <p> + “If Monseigneur alludes to the affront put upon M. de Mancini touching his + last night's indiscretion, by a bully of the Court, I am informed of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Pish, Monsieur! I do not follow your fine distinctions—possibly + this is due to my imperfect knowledge of the language of France, possibly + to your own imperfect acquaintance with the language of truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur!” + </p> + <p> + “Faugh!” he cried, half scornfully, half peevishly. “I came not here to + talk of you, but of my nephew. Why did he visit you?” + </p> + <p> + “To do me the honour of asking me to second him at St. Germain this + evening.” + </p> + <p> + “And so you think that this duel is to be fought?—that my nephew is + to be murdered?” + </p> + <p> + “We will endeavour to prevent his being—as your Eminence daintily + puts it—murdered. But for the rest, the duel, methinks, cannot be + avoided.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannot!” he blazed. “Do you say cannot, M. de Luynes? Mark me well, sir: + I will use no dissimulation with you. My position in France is already a + sufficiently difficult one. Already we are threatened with a second + Fronde. It needs but such events as these to bring my family into + prominence and make it the butt for the ridicule that malcontents but wait + an opportunity to slur it with. This affair of Andrea's will lend itself + to a score or so of lampoons and pasquinades, all of which will cast an + injurious reflection upon my person and position. That, Monsieur, is, + methinks, sufficient evil to suffer at your hands. The late Cardinal would + have had you broken on the wheel for less. I have gone no farther than to + dismiss you from my service—a clemency for which you should be + grateful. But I shall not suffer that, in addition to the harm already + done, Andrea shall be murdered by Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do my best to render him assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “You still misapprehend me. This duel, sir, must not take place.” + </p> + <p> + I shrugged my shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “How does your Eminence propose to frustrate it? Will you arrest + Canaples?” + </p> + <p> + “Upon what plea, Monsieur? Think you I am anxious to have the whole of + Paris howling in my ears?” + </p> + <p> + “Then possibly it is your good purpose to enforce the late king's edict + against duelling, and send your guards to St. Germain to arrest the men + before they engage?” + </p> + <p> + “Benone!” he sneered. “And what will Paris say if I now enforce a law that + for ten years has been disregarded? That I feared for my nephew's skin and + took this means of saving him. A pretty story to have on Paris's lips, + would it not be?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, Monseigneur, you are right, but I doubt me the duel will needs be + fought.” + </p> + <p> + “Have I not already said that it shall not be fought?” + </p> + <p> + Again I shrugged my shoulders. Mazarin grew tiresome with his repetitions. + </p> + <p> + “How can it be avoided, your Eminence?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Monsieur, that is your affair.” + </p> + <p> + “My affair?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly. 'T was through your evil agency he was dragged into this + business, and through your agency he must be extricated from it.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Eminence jests!” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly,—'t is a jesting matter,” he answered with terrible + irony. “Oh, I jest! Per Dio! yes. But I'll carry my jest so far as to have + you hanged if this duel be fought—aye, whether my nephew suffers + hurt or not. Now, sir, you know what fate awaits you; fight it—turn + it aside—I have shown you the way. The door, M. de Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. THE FIGHT IN THE HORSE-MARKET + </h2> + <p> + I let him go without a word. There was that in his voice, in his eye, and + in the gesture wherewith he bade me hold the door for him, that cleared my + mind of any doubts touching the irrevocable character of his + determination. To plead was never an accomplishment of mine; to argue, I + saw, would be to waste the Cardinal's time to no purpose. + </p> + <p> + And so I let him go,—and my curse with him,—and from my window + I watched his coach drive away in the drizzling rain, scattering the crowd + of awe-stricken loiterers who had collected at the rumour of his presence. + </p> + <p> + With a fervent prayer that his patron saint, the devil, might see fit to + overset his coach and break his neck before he reached the Palace, I + turned from the window, and called Michelot. + </p> + <p> + He was quick to answer my summons, bringing me the frugal measure of bread + and wine wherewith it was my custom to break my fast. Then, whilst I + munched my crust, I strode to and fro in the little chamber and exercised + my wits to their utmost for a solution to the puzzle his Eminence had set + me. + </p> + <p> + One solution there was, and an easy one—flight. But I had promised + Andrea de Mancini that I would stand beside him at St. Germain; there was + a slender chance of saving him if I went, whilst, if I stayed away, there + would be nothing left for his Eminence to do but to offer up prayers for + the rest of his nephew's soul. + </p> + <p> + Another idea I had, but it was desperate—and yet, so persistently + did my thoughts revert to it that in the end I determined to accept it. + </p> + <p> + I drank a cup of Armagnac, cheered myself with an oath or two, and again I + called Michelot. When he came, I asked him if he were acquainted with M. + de Canaples, to which he replied that he was, having seen the gentleman in + my company. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” I said, “you will repair to M. de Canaples's lodging in the Rue + des Gesvres, and ascertain discreetly whether he be at home. If he is, you + will watch the house until he comes forth, then follow him, and bring me + word thereafter where he is to be found. Should he be already abroad + before you reach the Rue des Gesvres, endeavour to ascertain whither he + has gone, and return forthwith. But be discreet, Michelot. You + understand?” + </p> + <p> + He assured me that he did, and left me to nurse my unpleasant thoughts for + half an hour, returning at the end of that time with the information that + M. de Canaples was seated at dinner in the “Auberge du Soleil.” + </p> + <p> + Naught could have been more attuned to my purpose, and straightway I drew + on my boots, girt on my sword, and taking my hat and cloak, I sallied out + into the rain, and wended my way at a sharp pace towards the Rue St. + Honoré. + </p> + <p> + One o'clock was striking as I crossed the threshold of the “Soleil” and + flung my dripping cloak to the first servant I chanced upon. + </p> + <p> + I glanced round the well-filled room, and at one of the tables I espied my + quarry in company with St. Auban and Montmédy—the very gentlemen who + were to fight beside him that evening—and one Vilmorin, as arrant a + coxcomb and poltroon as could be found in France. With my beaver cocked at + the back of my head, and a general bearing that for aggressiveness would + be hard to surpass, I strode up to their table, and stood for a moment + surveying them with an insolent stare that made them pause in their + conversation. They raised their noble heads and bestowed upon me a look of + haughty and disdainful wonder,—such a look as one might bestow upon + a misbehaving lackey,—all save Vilmorin, who, with a coward's keen + nose for danger, turned slightly pale and fidgeted in his chair. I was + well known to all of them, but my attitude forbade all greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Has M. de Luynes lost anything?” St. Auban inquired icily. + </p> + <p> + “His wits, mayhap,” quoth Canaples with a contemptuous shrug. + </p> + <p> + He was a tall, powerfully built man, this Canaples, with a swart, cruel + face that was nevertheless not ill-favoured, and a profusion of black + hair. + </p> + <p> + “There is a temerity in M. de Canaples's rejoinder that I had not looked + for,” I said banteringly. + </p> + <p> + Canaples's brow was puckered in a frown. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! And why not, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? Because it is not to be expected that one who fastens quarrels + upon schoolboys would evince the courage to beard Gaston de Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” the four of them cried in chorus, so loudly that the hum of + voices in the tavern became hushed, and all eyes were turned in our + direction. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Canaples,” I said calmly, “permit me to say that I can find no more + fitting expression for the contempt I hold you in than this.” + </p> + <p> + As I spoke I seized a corner of the tablecloth, and with a sudden tug I + swept it, with all it held, on to the floor. + </p> + <p> + Dame! what a scene there was! In an instant the four of them were on their + feet,—as were half the occupants of the room, besides,—whilst + poor Vilmorin, who stood trembling like a maid who for the first time + hears words of love, raised his quavering voice to cry soothingly, + “Messieurs, Messieurs!” + </p> + <p> + Canaples was livid with passion, but otherwise the calmest in that room, + saving perhaps myself. With a gesture he restrained Montmédy and St. + Auban. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be happy to give Master de Luynes all the proof of my courage + that he may desire, and more, I warrant, than he will relish.” + </p> + <p> + “Bravely answered!” I cried, with an approving nod and a beaming smile. + “Be good enough to lead the way to a convenient spot.” + </p> + <p> + “I have other business at the moment,” he answered calmly. “Let us say + to-morrow at—” + </p> + <p> + “Faugh!” I broke in scornfully. “I knew it! Confess, Monsieur, that you + dare not light me now lest you should be unable to keep your appointments + for this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Mille diables!” exclaimed St. Auban, “this insolence passes all bounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Each man in his turn if you please, gentlemen,” I replied. “My present + affair is with M. de Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + There was a hot answer burning on St. Auban's lips, but Canaples was + beforehand with him. + </p> + <p> + “Par la mort Dieu!” he cried; “you go too far, sir, with your 'dare' and + 'dare not.' Is a broken gamester, a penniless adventurer, to tell Eugène + de Canaples what he dares? Come, sir; since you are eager for the taste of + steel, follow me, and say your prayers as you go.” + </p> + <p> + With that we left the inn, amidst a prodigious hubbub, and made our way to + the horse-market behind the Hôtel Vendôme. It was not to be expected, + albeit the place we had chosen was usually deserted at such an hour, that + after the fracas at the “Soleil” our meeting would go unattended. When we + faced each other—Canaples and I—there were at least some + twenty persons present, who came, despite the rain, to watch what they + thought was like to prove a pretty fight. Men of position were they for + the most part, gentlemen of the Court with here and there a soldier, and + from the manner in which they eyed me methought they favoured me but + little. + </p> + <p> + Our preparations were brief. The absence of seconds disposed of all + formalities, the rain made us impatient to be done, and in virtue of it + Canaples pompously announced that he would not risk a cold by stripping. + With interest did I grimly answer that he need fear no cold when I had + done with him. Then casting aside my cloak, I drew, and, professing myself + also disposed to retain my doublet, we forthwith engaged. + </p> + <p> + He was no mean swordsman, this Canaples. Indeed, his reputation was + already widespread, and in the first shock of our meeting blades I felt + that rumour had been just for once. But I was strangely dispossessed of + any doubts touching the outcome; this being due perchance to a vain + confidence in my own skill, perchance to the spirit of contemptuous + raillery wherewith I had from the outset treated the affair, and which had + so taken root in my heart that even when we engaged I still, almost + unwittingly, persisted in it. + </p> + <p> + In my face and attitude there was the reflection of this bantering, + flippant mood; it was to be read in the mocking disdain of my glance, in + the scornful curl of my lip, and even in the turn of my wrist as I put + aside my opponent's passes. All this, Canaples must have noted, and it was + not without effect upon his nerves. Moreover, there is in steel a subtle + magnetism which is the index of one's antagonist; and from the moment that + our blades slithered one against the other I make no doubt but that + Canaples grew aware of the confident, almost exultant mood in which I met + him, and which told him that I was his master. Add to this the fact that + whilst Canaples's nerves were unstrung by passion mine were held in check + by a mind as calm and cool as though our swords were baited, and consider + with what advantages I took my ground. + </p> + <p> + He led the attack fiercely and furiously, as if I were a boy whose guard + was to be borne down by sheer weight of blows. I contented myself with + tapping his blade aside, and when at length, after essaying every trick in + his catalogue, he fell back baffled, I laughed a low laugh of derision + that drove him pale with fury. + </p> + <p> + Again he came at me, almost before I was prepared for him, and his point, + parried with a downward stroke and narrowly averted, scratched my thigh, + but did more damage to my breeches than my skin, in exchange I touched him + playfully on the shoulder, and the sting of it drove him back a second + time. He was breathing hard by then, and would fain have paused awhile for + breath, but I saw no reason to be merciful. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir,” I cried, saluting him as though our combat were but on the + point of starting—“to me! Guard yourself!” + </p> + <p> + Again our swords clashed, and my blows now fell as swift on his blade as + his had done awhile ago on mine. So hard did I press him that he was + forced to give way before me. Back I drove him pace by pace, his wrist + growing weaker at each parry, each parry growing wider, and the + perspiration streaming down his ashen face. Panting he went, in that + backward flight before my onslaught, defending himself as best he could, + never thinking of a riposte—beaten already. Back, and yet back he + went, until he reached the railings and could back no farther, and so + broken was his spirit then that a groan escaped him. I answered with a + laugh—my mood was lusty and cruel—and thrust at him. Then, + eluding his guard, I thrust again, beneath it, and took him fairly in the + middle of his doublet. + </p> + <p> + He staggered, dropped his rapier, and caught at the railings, where for a + moment he hung swaying and gasping. Then his head fell forward, his grip + relaxed, and swooning he sank down into a heap. + </p> + <p> + A dozen sprang to his aid, foremost amongst them being St. Auban and + Montmédy, whilst I drew back, suddenly realising my own spent condition, + to which the heat of the combat had hitherto rendered me insensible. I + mastered myself as best I might, and, dissembling my hard breathing, I + wiped my blade with a kerchief, an act which looked so calm and callous + that it drew from the crowd—for a crowd it had become by then—an + angry growl. 'T is thus with the vulgar; they are ever ready to sympathise + with the vanquished without ever pausing to ask themselves if his + chastisement may not be merited. + </p> + <p> + In answer to the growl I tossed my head, and sheathing my sword I flung + the bloodstained kerchief into their very midst. The audacity of the + gesture left them breathless, and they growled no more, but stared. + </p> + <p> + Then that outrageous fop, Vilmorin, who had been bending over Canaples, + started up and coming towards me with a face that was whiter than that of + the prostrate man, he proved himself so utterly bereft of wit by terror + that for once he had the temerity to usurp the words and actions of a + brave man. + </p> + <p> + “You have murdered him!” he cried in a strident voice, and thrusting his + clenched fist within an inch of my face. “Do you hear me, you knave? You + have murdered him!” + </p> + <p> + Now, as may be well conceived, I was in no mood to endure such words from + any man, so was but natural that for answer I caught the dainty Vicomte a + buffet that knocked him into the arms of the nearest bystander, and + brought him to his senses. + </p> + <p> + “Fool,” I snarled at him, “must I make another example before you believe + that Gaston de Luynes wears a sword?” + </p> + <p> + “In the name of Heaven—” he began, putting forth his hands in a + beseeching gesture; but what more he said was drowned by the roar of anger + that burst from the onlookers, and it was like to have gone ill with me + had not St. Auban come to my aid at that most critical juncture. + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs!” he cried, thrusting himself before me, and raising his hand + to crave silence, “hear me. I, a friend of M. de Canaples, tell you that + you wrong M. de Luynes. 'T was a fair fight—how the quarrel arose is + no concern of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Despite his words they still snarled and growled like the misbegotten curs + they were. But St. Auban was famous for the regal supper parties he gave, + to which all were eager to be bidden, and amidst that crowd, as I have + said, there were a score or so of gentlemen of the Court, who—with + scant regard for the right or wrong of the case and every regard to + conciliate this giver of suppers—came to range themselves beside and + around us, and thus protected me from the murderous designs of that + rabble. + </p> + <p> + Seeing how the gentlemen took my part, and deeming—in their blessed + ignorance—that what gentlemen did must be perforce well done, they + grew calm in the twinkling of an eye. Thereupon St. Auban, turning to me, + counselled me in a whisper to be gone, whilst the tide of opinion flowed + in my favour. Intent to act upon this good advice, I took a step towards + the little knot that had collected round Canaples, and with natural + curiosity inquired into the nature of his hurt. + </p> + <p> + 'T was Montmédy who answered me, scowling as he did so: + </p> + <p> + “He may die of it, Monsieur. If he does not, his recovery will be at least + slow and difficult.” + </p> + <p> + I had been wise had I held my peace and gone; but, like a fool, I must + needs give utterance to what was in my mind. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! At least there will be no duel at St. Germain this evening.” + </p> + <p> + Scarce had the words fallen from my lips when I saw in the faces of + Montmédy and St. Auban and half a dozen others the evidence of their + rashness. + </p> + <p> + “So!” cried St. Auban in a voice that shook with rage. “That was your + object, eh? That you had fallen low, Master de Luynes, I knew, but I + dreamt not that in your fall you had come so low as this.” + </p> + <p> + “You dare?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu! I dare more, Monsieur; I dare tell you—you, Gaston de + Luynes, spy and bravo of the Cardinal—that your object shall be + defeated. That, as God lives, this duel shall still be fought—by me + instead of Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “And I tell you, sir, that as God lives it shall not,” I answered with a + vehemence not a whit less than his own. “To you and to what other fools + may think to follow in your footsteps, I say this: that not to-night nor + to-morrow nor the next day shall that duel be fought. Cowards and + poltroons you are, who seek to murder a beardless boy who has injured none + of you! But, by my soul! every man who sends a challenge to that boy will + I at once seek out and deal with as I have dealt with Eugène de Canaples. + Let those who are eager to try another world make the attempt. Adieu, + Messieurs!” + </p> + <p> + And with a flourish of my sodden beaver, I turned and left them before + they had recovered from the vehemence of my words. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. FAIR RESCUERS + </h2> + <p> + Like the calm of the heavens when pregnant with thunder was the calm of + that crowd. And as brief it was; for scarce had I taken a dozen steps when + my ears were assailed by a rumble of angry voices and a rush of feet. One + glance over my shoulder, one second's hesitation whether I should stay and + beard them, then the thought of Andrea de Mancini and of what would befall + him did this canaille vent its wrath upon me decided my course and sent me + hotfoot down the Rue Monarque. Howling and bellowing that rabble followed + in my wake, stumbling over one another in their indecent haste to reach + me. + </p> + <p> + But I was fleet of foot, and behind me there was that that would lend + wings to the most deliberate, so that when I turned into the open space + before the Hôtel Vendôme I had set a good fifty yards betwixt myself and + the foremost of my hunters. + </p> + <p> + A coach was passing at that moment. I shouted, and the knave who drove + glanced at me, then up the Rue Monarque at my pursuers, whereupon, shaking + his head, he would have left me to my fate. But I was of another mind. I + dashed towards the vehicle, and as it passed me I caught at the window, + which luckily was open, and drawing up my legs I hung there despite the + shower of mud which the revolving wheels deposited upon me. + </p> + <p> + From the bowels of the coach I was greeted by a woman's scream; a pale + face, and a profusion of fair hair flashed before my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Fear not, Madame,” I shouted. “I am no assassin, but rather one who + stands in imminent peril of assassination, and who craves your + protection.” + </p> + <p> + More I would have said, but at that juncture the lash of the coachman's + whip curled itself about my shoulders, and stung me vilely. + </p> + <p> + “Get down, you rascal,” he bellowed; “get down or I'll draw rein!” + </p> + <p> + To obey him would have been madness. The crowd surged behind with hoots + and yells, and had I let go I must perforce have fallen into their hands. + So, instead of getting down as he inconsiderately counselled, I drew + myself farther up by a mighty effort, and thrust half my body into the + coach, whereupon the fair lady screamed again, and the whip caressed my + legs. But within the coach sat another woman, dark of hair and exquisite + of face, who eyed my advent with a disdainful glance. Her proud + countenance bore the stamp of courage, and to her it was that I directed + my appeal. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, permit me, I pray, to seek shelter in your carriage, and suffer + me to journey a little way with you. Quick, Madame! Your coachman is + drawing rein, and I shall of a certainty be murdered under your very nose + unless you bid him change his mind. To be murdered in itself is a trifling + matter, I avow, but it is not nice to behold, and I would not, for all the + world, offend your eyes with the spectacle of it.” + </p> + <p> + I had judged her rightly, and my tone of flippant recklessness won me her + sympathy and aid. Quickly thrusting her head through the other window: + </p> + <p> + “Drive on, Louis,” she commanded. “Faster!” Then turning to me, “You may + bring your legs into the coach if you choose, sir,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Your words, Madame, are the sweetest music I have heard for months,” I + answered drily, as I obeyed her. Then leaning out of the carriage again I + waved my hat gallantly to the mob which—now realising the futility + of further pursuit—had suddenly come to a halt. + </p> + <p> + “Au plaisir de vous revoir, Messieurs,” I shouted. “Come to me one by one, + and I'll keep the devil busy finding lodgings for you.” + </p> + <p> + They answered me with a yell, and I sat down content, and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “You are not a coward, Monsieur,” said the dark lady. + </p> + <p> + “I have been accounted many unsavoury things, Madame, but my bitterest + enemies never dubbed me that.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, did you run away?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Ma foi! because in the excessive humility of my soul I recognised + myself unfit to die.” + </p> + <p> + She bit her lip and her tiny foot beat impatiently upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + “You are trifling with me, Monsieur. Where do you wish to alight?” + </p> + <p> + “Pray let that give you no concern; I can assure you that I am in no + haste.” + </p> + <p> + “You become impertinent, sir,” she cried angrily. “Answer me, where are + you going?” + </p> + <p> + “Where am I going? Oh, ah—to the Palais Royal.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes opened very wide at that, and wandered over me with a look that + was passing eloquent. Indeed, I was a sorry spectacle for any woman's eyes—particularly + a pretty one's. Splashed from head to foot with mud, my doublet saturated + and my beaver dripping, with the feather hanging limp and broken, whilst + there was a rent in my breeches that had been made by Canaples's sword, I + take it that I had not the air of a courtier, and that when I said that I + went to the Palais Royal she might have justly held me to be the + adventurous lover of some kitchen wench. But unto the Palais Royal go + others besides courtiers and lovers—spies of the Cardinal, for + instance, and in her sudden coldness and the next question that fell from + her beauteous lips I read that she had guessed me one of these. + </p> + <p> + “Why did the mob pursue you, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + There was in her voice and gesture when she asked a question the + imperiousness of one accustomed to command replies. This pretty + queenliness it was that drove me to answer—as I had done before—in + a bantering strain. + </p> + <p> + “Why did the mob pursue me? Hum! Why does the mob pursue great men? + Because it loves their company.” + </p> + <p> + Her matchless eyes flashed an angry glance, and the faint smile on my lips + must have tried her temper sorely. + </p> + <p> + “What did you do to deserve this affection?” + </p> + <p> + “A mere nothing—I killed a man,” I answered coolly. “Or, at least, I + left him started on the road to—Paradise.” + </p> + <p> + The little flaxen-haired doll uttered a cry of horror, and covered her + face with her small white hands. My inquisitor, however, sat rigid and + unaffected. My answer had confirmed her suspicions. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you kill him?” + </p> + <p> + “Ma foi!” I replied, encouraging her thoughts, “because he sought to kill + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! And why did he seek to kill you?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I disturbed him at dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Have a care how you trifle, sir!” she retorted, her eyes kindling again. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my honour, 't was no more than that. I pulled the cloth from the + table whilst he ate. He was a quick-tempered gentleman, and my playfulness + offended him. That is all.” + </p> + <p> + Doubt appeared in her eyes, and it may have entered her mind that + perchance her judgment had been over-hasty. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean, sir, that you provoked a duel?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, Madame! It had become necessary. You see, M. de Canaples—” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” Her voice rang sharp as the crack of a pistol. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? M. de Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it he whom you killed?” + </p> + <p> + From her tone, and the eager, strained expression of her face, it was not + difficult to read that some mighty interest of hers was involved in my + reply. It needed not the low moan that burst from her companion to tell me + so. + </p> + <p> + “As I have said, Madame, it is possible that he is not dead—nay, + even that he will not die. For the rest, since you ask the question, my + opponent was, indeed, M. de Canaples—Eugène de Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + Her face went deadly white, and she sank back in her seat as if every + nerve in her body had of a sudden been bereft of power, whilst she of the + fair hair burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + A pretty position was this for me!—luckily it endured not. The girl + roused herself from her momentary weakness, and, seizing the cord, she + tugged it violently. The coach drew up. + </p> + <p> + “Alight, sir,” she hissed—“go! I wish to Heaven that I had left you + to the vengeance of the people.” + </p> + <p> + Not so did I; nevertheless, as I alighted: “I am sorry, Madame, that you + did not,” I answered. “Adieu!” + </p> + <p> + The coach moved away, and I was left standing at the corner of the Rue St. + Honoré and the Rue des Bons Enfants, in the sorriest frame of mind + conceivable. The lady in the coach had saved my life, and for that I was + more grateful perchance than my life was worth. Out of gratitude sprang a + regret for the pain that I had undoubtedly caused her, and the sorrow + which it might have been my fate to cast over her life. + </p> + <p> + Still, regret, albeit an admirable sentiment, was one whose existence was + usually brief in my bosom. Dame! Had I been a man of regrets I might have + spent the remainder of my days weeping over my past life. But the gods, + who had given me a character calculated to lead a man into misfortune, had + given me a stout heart wherewith to fight that misfortune, and an armour + of recklessness against which remorse, regrets, aye, and conscience + itself, rained blows in vain. + </p> + <p> + And so it befell that presently I laughed myself out of the puerile humour + that was besetting me, and, finding myself chilled by inaction in my wet + clothes, I set off for the Palais Royal at a pace that was first cousin to + a run. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later I stood in the presence of the most feared and hated man + in France. + </p> + <p> + “Cospetto!” cried Mazarin as I entered his cabinet. “Have you swum the + Seine in your clothes?” + </p> + <p> + “No, your Eminence, but I have been serving you in the rain for the past + hour.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled that peculiar smile of his that rendered hateful his otherwise + not ill-favoured countenance. It was a smile of the lips in which the eyes + had no part. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said slowly, “I have heard of your achievements.” + </p> + <p> + “You have heard?” I ejaculated, amazed by the powers which this man + wielded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have heard. You are a brave man, M. de Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw, your Eminence!” I deprecated; “the poor are always brave. They + have naught to lose but their life, and that is not so sweet to them that + they lay much store by it. Howbeit, Monseigneur, your wishes have been + carried out. There will be no duel at St. Germain this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Will there not? Hum! I am not so confident. You are a brave man, M. de + Luynes, but you lack that great auxiliary of valour—discretion. What + need to fling into the teeth of those fine gentlemen the reason you had + for spitting Canaples, eh? You have provoked a dozen enemies for Andrea + where only one existed.” + </p> + <p> + “I will answer for all of them,” I retorted boastfully. + </p> + <p> + “Fine words, M. de Luynes; but to support them how many men will you have + to kill? Pah! What if some fine morning there comes one who, despite your + vaunted swordsmanship, proves your master? What will become of that fool, + my nephew, eh?” + </p> + <p> + And his uncanny smile again beamed on me. “Andrea is now packing his + valise. In an hour he will have left Paris secretly. He goes—but + what does it signify where he goes? He is compelled by your indiscretion + to withdraw from Court. Had you kept a close tongue in your foolish head—but + there! you did not, and so by a thoughtless word you undid all that you + had done so well. You may go, M. de Luynes. I have no further need of you—and + thank Heaven that you leave the Palais Royal free to go whither your fancy + takes you, and not to journey to the Bastille or to Vincennes. I am + merciful, M. de Luynes—as merciful as you are brave; more merciful + than you are prudent. One word of warning, M. de Luynes: do not let me + learn that you are in my nephew's company, if you would not make me regret + my clemency and repair the error of it by having you hanged. And now, + adieu!” + </p> + <p> + I stood aghast. Was I indeed dismissed? Albeit naught had been said, I had + not doubted, since my interview with him that morning, that did I succeed + in saving Andrea my rank in his guards—and thereby a means of + livelihood—would be restored to me. And now matters were no better + than they had been before. He dismissed me with the assurance that he was + merciful. As God lives, it would have been as merciful to have hanged me! + </p> + <p> + He met my astonished look with an eye that seemed to ask me why I + lingered. Then reading mayhap what was passing in my thoughts, he raised a + little silver whistle to his lips and blew softly upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Bernouin,” said he to his valet, who entered in answer to the summons, + “reconduct M. de Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + I remember drawing down upon my bedraggled person the curious gaze of the + numerous clients who thronged the Cardinal's ante-chamber, as I followed + Bernouin to the door which opened on to the corridor, and which he held + for me. And thus, for the second time within twenty-four hours, did I + leave the Palais Royal to wend my way home to the Rue St. Antoine with + grim despondency in my heart. + </p> + <p> + I found Michelot on the point of setting out in search of me, with a note + which had been brought to my lodging half an hour ago, and which its + bearer had said was urgent. I took the letter, and bidding Michelot + prepare me fresh raiment that I might exchange for my wet clothes, I broke + the seal and read: + </p> + <p> + “A thousand thanks, dear friend, for the service you have rendered me and + of which his Eminence, my uncle, has informed me. I fear that you have + made many enemies for yourself through an action which will likely go + unrewarded, and that Paris is therefore as little suited at present to + your health as it is to mine. I am setting out for Blois on a mission of + exceeding delicacy wherein your advice and guidance would be of infinite + value to me. I shall remain at Choisy until to-morrow morning, and should + there be no ties to hold you in Paris, and you be minded to bear me + company, join me there at the Hôtel du Connétable where I shall lie + to-night. Your grateful and devoted + </p> + <p> + “ANDRE.” + </p> + <p> + So! There was one at least who desired my company! I had not thought it. + “If there be no ties to hold you in Paris,” he wrote. Dame! A change of + air would suit me vastly. I was resolved—a fig for the Cardinal's + threat to hang me if I were found in his nephew's company! + </p> + <p> + “My suit of buff, Michelot,” I shouted, springing to my feet, “and my + leather jerkin.” + </p> + <p> + He gazed at me in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Is Monsieur going a journey?” + </p> + <p> + I answered him that I was, and as I spoke I began to divest myself of the + clothes I wore. “Pack my suit of pearl grey in the valise, with what + changes of linen I possess; then call Master Coupri that I may settle with + him. It may be some time before we return.” + </p> + <p> + In less than half an hour I was ready for the journey, spurred and booted, + with my rapier at my side, and in the pocket of my haut-dechausses a + purse containing some fifty pistoles—best part of which I had won + from Vilmorin at lansquenet some nights before, and which moderate sum + represented all the moneys that I possessed. + </p> + <p> + Our horses were ready, my pistols holstered, and my valise strapped to + Michelot's saddle. Despite the desperate outlook of my fortunes, of which + I had made him fully cognisant, he insisted upon clinging to me, reminding + me that at Rocroi I had saved his life and that he would leave me only + when I bade him go. + </p> + <p> + As four o'clock was striking at Nôtre Dame we crossed the Pont Neuf, and + going by the Quai des Augustins and the Rue de la Harpe, we quitted Paris + by the St. Michel Gate and took the road to Choisy. The rain had ceased, + but the air was keen and cold, and the wind cut like a sword-edge. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. MAZARIN, THE MATCH-MAKER + </h2> + <p> + Twixt Paris and Choisy there lies but a distance of some two leagues, + which, given a fair horse, one may cover with ease in little more than + half an hour. So that as the twilight was deepening into night we drew + rein before the hostelry of the Connétable, in the only square the little + township boasts, and from the landlord I had that obsequious reception + which is ever accorded to him who travels with a body-servant. + </p> + <p> + I found Andrea installed in a fair-sized and comfortable apartment, to the + original decoration of which he added not a little by bestowing his boots + in the centre of the floor, his hat, sword, and baldrick on the table, his + cloak on one chair, and his doublet on another. He himself sat toasting + his feet before the blazing logs, which cast a warm, reddish glow upon his + sable hair and dainty shirt of cambric. + </p> + <p> + He sprang up as I entered, and came towards me with a look of pleasure on + his handsome, high-bred face, that did me good to see. + </p> + <p> + “So, you have come, De Luynes,” he cried, putting forth his hand. “I did + not dare to hope that you would.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I answered. “Truly it was not to be expected that I could be easily + lured from Paris just as my fortunes are nearing a high tide, and his + Eminence proposing to make me a Marshal of France and create me Duke. As + you say, you had scant grounds for hoping that my love for you would + suffice to make me renounce all these fine things for the mere sake of + accompanying you on your jaunt to Blois.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed, then fell to thanking me for having rid him of Canaples. I cut + him short at last, and in answer to his questions told him what had passed + 'twixt his Eminence and me that afternoon. Then as the waiter entered to + spread our supper, the conversation assumed a less delicate character, + until we were again alone with the table and its steaming viands between + us. + </p> + <p> + “You have not told me yet, Andrea, what takes you to Blois,” quoth I then. + </p> + <p> + “You shall learn. Little do you dream how closely interwoven are our + morning adventures with this journey of mine. To begin with, I go to Blois + to pay my dévoirs to the lady whom his Eminence has selected for my future + wife.” + </p> + <p> + “You were then right in describing this as a mission of great delicacy.” + </p> + <p> + “More than you think—I have never seen the lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Never seen her? And you go a-wooing a woman you have never seen?” + </p> + <p> + “It is so. I have never seen her; but his Eminence has, and 't is he who + arranges the affair. Ah, the Cardinal is the greatest matchmaker in + France! My cousin Anna Martinozzi is destined for the Prince de Conti, my + sisters Olympia and Marianne he also hopes to marry to princes of the + blood, whilst I dare wager that he has thoughts of seating either Maria or + Hortensia upon the throne of France as the wife of Louis XIV., as soon as + his Majesty shall have reached a marriageable age. You may laugh, De + Luynes, nevertheless all this may come to pass, for my uncle has great + ambitions for his family, and it is even possible that should that poor, + wandering youth, Charles II. of England, ever return to the throne of his + fathers he may also become my brother-in-law. I am likely to become well + connected, De Luynes, so make a friend of me whilst I am humble. So much + for Mazarin's nieces. His nephews are too young for alliances just yet, + saving myself; and for me his Eminence has chosen one of the greatest + heiresses in France—Yvonne St. Albaret de Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom?” I shouted. + </p> + <p> + He smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Curious, is it not? She is the sister of the man whom I quarrelled with + this morning, and whom you fought with this afternoon. Now you will + understand my uncle's reasons for so strenuously desiring to prevent the + duel at St. Germain. It appears that the old Chevalier de Canaples is as + eager as the Cardinal to see his daughter wed to me, for his Eminence has + promised to create me Duke for a wedding gift. 'T will cost him little, + and 't will please these Canaples mightily. Naturally, had Eugène de + Canaples and I crossed swords, matters would have been rendered + difficult.” + </p> + <p> + “When did you learn all this?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “To-day, after the duel, and when it was known what St. Auban and Montmédy + had threatened me with. My uncle thought it well that I should withdraw + from Paris. He sent for me and told me what I have told you, adding that I + had best seize the opportunity, whilst my presence at Court was + undesirable, to repair to Blois and get my wooing done. I in part agreed + with him. The lady is very rich, and I am told that she is beautiful. I + shall see her, and if she pleases me, I'll woo her. If not, I'll return to + Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “But her brother will oppose you.” + </p> + <p> + “Her brother? Pooh! If he doesn't die of the sword-thrust you gave him, + which I am told is in the region of the lung and passing dangerous, he + will at least be abed for a couple of months to come.” + </p> + <p> + “But I, mon cher André? What rôle do you reserve for me, that you have + desired me to go with you?” + </p> + <p> + “The rôle of Mentor if you will. Methought you would prove a merry comrade + to help one o'er a tedious journey, and knowing that there was little to + hold you to Paris, and probably sound reasons why you should desire to + quit it, meseemed that perhaps you would consent to bear me company. Who + knows, my knight errant, what adventures may await you and what fortunes? + If the heiress displeases me, it may be that she will please you—or + mayhap there is another heiress at Blois who will fall enamoured of those + fierce moustachios.” + </p> + <p> + I laughed with him at the improbability of such things befalling. I + carried in my bosom too large a heart, and one that was the property of + every wench I met—for just so long as I chanced to be in her + company. + </p> + <p> + It was no more than in harmony with this habit of mine, that when, next + morning in the common-room of the Connétable, I espied Jeanneton, the + landlord's daughter, and remarked that she was winsome and shapely, with a + complexion that would not have dishonoured a rose-petal, I permitted + myself to pinch her dainty cheek. She slapped mine in return, and in this + pleasant manner we became acquainted. + </p> + <p> + “Sweet Jeanneton,” quoth I with a laugh, “that was mightily ill-done! I + did but pinch your cheek as one may pinch a sweet-smelling bud, so that + the perfume of it may cling to one's fingers.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, sir,” was the pert rejoinder, “did but slap yours as one may slap + a misbehaving urchin's; so that he may learn better manners.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless she was pleased with my courtly speech, and perchance also + with my moustachios, for a smile took the place of the frown wherewith she + had at first confronted me. Now, if I had uttered glib pleasantries in + answer to her frowns, how many more did not her smiles wring from me! I + discoursed to her in the very courtliest fashion of cows and pullets and + such other matters as interesting to her as they were mysterious to me. I + questioned her in a breath touching her father's pigs and the swain she + loved best in that little township, to all of which she answered me with a + charming wit, which would greatly divert you did I but recall her words + sufficiently to set them down. In five minutes we had become the best + friends in the world, which was attested by the protecting arm that I + slipped around her waist, as I asked her whether she loved that village + swain of hers better than she loved me, and refused to believe her when + she answered that she did. + </p> + <p> + Outside two men were talking, one calling for a farrier, and when informed + that the only one in the village was absent and not likely to return till + noon, demanding relays of horses. The other—probably the hostler—answered + him that the Connétable was not a post-house and that no horses were to be + had there. Then a woman's voice, sweet yet commanding, rose above theirs. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Guilbert,” it said. “We will await this farrier's return.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, Monsieur!” cried Jeanneton. “Some one comes.” + </p> + <p> + Now for myself I cared little who might come, but methought that it was + likely to do poor Jeanneton's fair name no benefit, if the arm of Gaston + de Luynes were seen about her waist. And so I obeyed her, but not quickly + enough; for already a shadow lay athwart the threshold, and in the doorway + stood a woman, whose eye took in the situation before we had altered it + sufficiently to avert suspicion. To my amazement I beheld the lady of the + coach—she who had saved me from the mob in Place Vendôme, and + touching whose identity I could have hazarded a shrewd guess. + </p> + <p> + In her eyes also I saw the light of recognition which swiftly changed to + one of scorn. Then they passed from me to the vanishing Jeanneton, and + methought that she was about to call her back. She paused, however, and, + turning to the lackey who followed at her heels. + </p> + <p> + “Guilbert,” she said, “be good enough to call the landlord, and bid him + provide me with an apartment for the time that we may be forced to spend + here.” + </p> + <p> + But at this juncture the host himself came hurrying forward with many bows + and endless rubbing of hands, which argued untold deference. He regretted + that the hostelry of the Connétable, being but a poor inn, seldom honoured + as it was at that moment, possessed but one suite of private apartments, + and that was now occupied by a most noble gentleman. The lady tapped her + foot, and as at that moment her companion (who was none other than the + fair-haired doll I had seen with her on the previous day) entered the + room, she turned to speak with her, whilst I moved away towards the + window. + </p> + <p> + “Will this gentleman,” she inquired, “lend me one of his rooms, think + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hélas, Mademoiselle, he has but two, a bedroom and an ante-chamber, and + he is still abed.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she cried in pretty anger, “this is insufferable! 'T is your fault, + Guilbert, you fool. Am I, then, to spend the day here in the common-room?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Mademoiselle,” exclaimed the host in his most soothing accents. + “Only for an hour, or less, perhaps, until this very noble lord is risen, + when assuredly—for he is young and very gallant—he will resign + one or both of his rooms to you.” + </p> + <p> + More was said between them, but my attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. + Michelot burst into the room, disaster written on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he cried, in great alarm, “the Marquis de St. Auban is riding + down the street with the Vicomte de Vilmorin and another gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + I rapped out an oath at the news; they had got scent of Andrea's + whereabouts, and were after him like sleuth-hounds on a trail. + </p> + <p> + “Remain here, Michelot,” I answered in a low voice. “Tell them that M. de + Mancini is not here, that the only occupant of the inn is your master, a + gentleman from Normandy, or Picardy, or where you will. See that they do + not guess our presence—the landlord fortunately is ignorant of M. de + Mancini's name.” + </p> + <p> + There was a clatter of horses' hoofs without, and I was barely in time to + escape by the door leading to the staircase, when St. Auban's heavy voice + rang out, calling the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “I am in search of a gentleman named Andrea de Mancini,” he said. “I am + told that he has journeyed hither, and that he is here at present. Am I + rightly informed?” + </p> + <p> + I determined to remain where I was, and hear that conversation to the end. + </p> + <p> + “There is a gentleman here,” answered the host, “but I am ignorant of his + name. I will inquire.” + </p> + <p> + “You may spare yourself the trouble,” Michelot interposed. “That is not + the gentleman's name. I am his servant.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment's pause, then came Vilmorin's shrill voice. + </p> + <p> + “You lie, knave! M. de Mancini is here. You are M. de Luynes's lackey, and + where the one is, there shall we find the other.” + </p> + <p> + “M. de Luynes?” came a voice unknown to me. “That is Mancini's sword-blade + of a friend, is it not? Well, why does he hide himself? Where is he? Where + is your master, rascal?” + </p> + <p> + “I am here, Messieurs,” I answered, throwing wide the door, and appearing, + grim and arrogant, upon the threshold. + </p> + <p> + Mort de ma vie! Had they beheld the Devil, St. Auban and Vilmorin could + not have looked less pleased than they did when their eyes lighted upon + me, standing there surveying them with a sardonic grin. + </p> + <p> + St. Auban muttered an oath, Vilmorin stifled a cry, whilst he who had so + loudly called to know where I hid myself—a frail little fellow, in + the uniform of the gardes du corps—now stood silent and abashed. + </p> + <p> + The two women, who had withdrawn into a dark and retired corner of the + apartment, stood gazing with interest upon this pretty scene. + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen?” I asked in a tone of persiflage, as I took a step + towards them. “Have you naught to say to me, now that I have answered your + imperious summons? What! All dumb?” + </p> + <p> + “Our affair is not with you,” said St. Auban, curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon! Why, then, did you inquire where I was?” + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs,” exclaimed Vilmorin, whose face assumed the pallor usual to it + in moments of peril, “meseems we have been misinformed, and that M. de + Mancini is not here. Let us seek elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Most excellent advice, gentlemen,” I commented,—“seek elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” cried the little officer, turning purple, “it occurs to me + that you are mocking us.” + </p> + <p> + “Mocking you! Mocking you? Mocking a gentleman who has been tied to so + huge a sword as yours. Surely—surely, sir, you do not think—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll not endure it,” he broke in. “You shall answer to me for this.” + </p> + <p> + “Have a care, sir,” I cried in alarm as he rushed forward. “Have a care, + sir, lest you trip over your sword.” + </p> + <p> + He halted, drew himself up, and, with a magnificent gesture: “I am Armand + de Malpertuis, lieutenant of his Majesty's guards,” he announced, “and I + shall be grateful if you will do me the honour of taking a turn with me, + outside.” + </p> + <p> + “I am flattered beyond measure, M. Malappris—” + </p> + <p> + “Mal-per-tuis,” he corrected furiously. + </p> + <p> + “Malpertuis,” I echoed. “I am honoured beyond words, but I do not wish to + take a turn.” + </p> + <p> + “Mille diables, sir! Don't you understand? We must fight.” + </p> + <p> + “Must we, indeed? Again I am honoured; but, Monsieur, I don't fight + sparrows.” + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” cried St. Auban, thrusting himself between us. + “Malpertuis, have the goodness to wait until one affair is concluded + before you create a second one. Now, M. de Luynes, will you tell me + whether M. de Mancini is here or not?” + </p> + <p> + “What if he should be?” + </p> + <p> + “You will be wise to withdraw—we shall be three to two.” + </p> + <p> + “Three to two! Surely, Marquis, your reckoning is at fault. You cannot + count the Vicomte there as one; his knees are knocking together; at best + he is but a woman in man's clothes. As for your other friend, unless his + height misleads me, he is but a boy. Therefore, Monsieur, you see that the + advantage is with us. We are two men opposed to a man, a woman, and a + child, so that—” + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven's name, sir,” cried St. Auban, again interposing himself + betwixt me and the bellicose Malpertuis, “will you cease this foolishness? + A word with you in private, M. de Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + I permitted him to take me by the sleeve, and lead me aside, wondering the + while what curb it was that he was setting upon his temper, and what wily + motives he might have for adopting so conciliatory a tone. + </p> + <p> + With many generations to come, the name of César de St. Auban must + perforce be familiar as that of one of the greatest roysterers and most + courtly libertines of the early days of Louis XIV., as well as that of a + rabid anti-cardinalist and frondeur, and one of the earliest of that new + cabal of nobility known as the petits-maîtres, whose leader the Prince de + Condé was destined to become a few years later. He was a man of about my + own age, that is to say, between thirty-two and thirty-three, and of my + own frame, tall, spare, and active. On his florid, débonnair countenance + was stamped his character of bon-viveur. In dress he was courtly in the + extreme. His doublet and haut-de-chausses were of wine-coloured velvet, + richly laced, and he still affected the hanging sleeves of a + fast-disappearing fashion. Valuable lace filled the tops of his black + boots, a valuable jewel glistened here and there upon his person, and one + must needs have pronounced him a fop but for the strength and resoluteness + of his bearing, and the long rapier that hung from his gold-embroidered + baldrick. Such in brief is a portrait of the man who now confronted me, + his fine blue eyes fixed upon my face, wherein methinks he read but + little, search though he might. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Luynes,” he murmured at last, “you appear to find entertainment in + making enemies, and you do it wantonly.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you brought me aside to instruct me in the art of making friends?” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly, M. de Luynes; and without intending an offence, permit me to + remark that you need them.” + </p> + <p> + “Mayhap. But I do not seek them.” + </p> + <p> + “I have it in my heart to wish that you did; for I, M. de Luynes, seek to + make a friend of you. Nay, do not smile in that unbelieving fashion. I + have long esteemed you for those very qualities of dauntlessness and + defiance which have brought you so rich a crop of hatred. If you doubt my + words, perhaps you will recall my attitude towards you in the horse-market + yesterday, and let that speak. Without wishing to remind you of a service + done, I may yet mention that I stood betwixt you and the mob that sought + to avenge my friend Canaples. He was my friend; you stood there, as indeed + you have always stood, in the attitude of a foe. You wounded Canaples, + maltreated Vilmorin, defied me; and yet but for my intervention, mille + diables sir, you had been torn to pieces.” + </p> + <p> + “All this I grant is very true, Monsieur,” I made reply, with deep + suspicion in my soul. “Yet, pardon me, if I confess that to me it proves + no more than that you acted as a generous enemy. Pardon my bluntness also—but + what profit do you look to make from gaining my friendship?” + </p> + <p> + “You are frank, Monsieur,” he said, colouring slightly, “I will be none + the less so. I am a frondeur, an anti-cardinalist. In a word, I am a + gentleman and a Frenchman. An interloping foreigner, miserly, mean-souled, + and Jesuitical, springs up, wins himself into the graces of a foolish, + impetuous, wilful queen, and climbs the ladder which she holds for him to + the highest position in France. I allude to Mazarin; this Cardinal who is + not a priest; this minister of France who is not a Frenchman; this + belittler of nobles who is not a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “Mort Dieu, Monsieur—” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, M. de Luynes. This adventurer, not content with the millions + which his avaricious talons have dragged from the people for his own + benefit, seeks, by means of illustrious alliances, to enrich a pack of + beggarly nieces and nephews that he has rescued from the squalor of their + Sicilian homes to bring hither. His nieces, the Mancinis and Martinozzis, + he is marrying to Dukes and Princes. 'T is not nice to witness, but 't is + the affair of the men who wed them. In seeking, however, to marry his + nephew Andrea to one of the greatest heiresses in France, he goes too far. + Yvonne de Canaples is for some noble countryman of her own—there are + many suitors to her hand—and for no nephew of Giulio Mazarini. Her + brother Eugène, himself, thinks thus, and therein, M. de Luynes, you have + the real motive of the quarrel which he provoked with Andrea, and which, + had you not interfered, could have had but one ending.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you tell me all this, Monsieur?” I inquired coldly, betraying none + of the amazement his last words gave birth to. + </p> + <p> + “So that you may know the true position of affairs, and, knowing it, see + the course which the name you bear must bid you follow. Because Canaples + failed am I here to-day. I had not counted upon meeting you, but since I + have met you, I have set the truth before you, confident that you will now + withdraw from an affair to which no real interest can bind you, leaving + matters to pursue their course.” + </p> + <p> + He eyed me, methought, almost anxiously from under his brows, as he + awaited my reply. It was briefer than he looked for. + </p> + <p> + “You have wasted time, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “How? You persist?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I persist. Yet for the Cardinal I care nothing. Mazarin has + dismissed me from his service unjustly and unpaid. He has forbidden me his + nephew's company. In fact, did he know of my presence here with M. de + Mancini, he would probably carry out his threat to hang me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ciel!” cried St. Auban, “you are mad, if that be so. France is divided + into two parties, cardinalists and anti-cardinalists. You, sir, without + belonging to either, stand alone, an enemy to both. Your attitude is + preposterous!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sir, not alone. There is Andrea de Mancini. The boy is my only + friend in a world of enemies. I am growing fond of him, Monsieur, and I + will stand by him, while my arm can wield a sword, in all that may advance + his fortunes and his happiness. That, Monsieur, is my last word.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not forget, M. de Luynes,” he said—his suaveness all departed of + a sudden, and his tone full of menace and acidity—“do not forget + that when a wall may not be scaled it may be broken through.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, Monsieur, but many of those who break through stand in danger of + being crushed by the falling stones,” I answered, entering into the spirit + of his allegory. + </p> + <p> + “There are many ways of striking,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And many ways of being struck,” I retorted with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + Our words grew sinister, our eyes waxed fiery, and more might have + followed had not the door leading to the staircase opened at that moment + to admit Andrea himself. He came, elegant in dress and figure, with a + smile upon his handsome young face, whose noble features gave the lie to + St. Auban's assertion that he had been drawn from a squalid Sicilian home. + Such faces are not bred in squalor. + </p> + <p> + In utter ignorance of the cabal against him, he greeted St. Auban—who + was well known to him—with a graceful bow, and also Vilmorin, who + stood in the doorway with Malpertuis, and who at the sight of Mancini grew + visibly ill at ease. In coming to Choisy, the Vicomte had clearly expected + to do no more than second St. Auban in the duel which he thought to see + forced upon Andrea. He now realised that if a fight there was, he might, + by my presence, be forced into it. Malpertuis looked fierce and tugged at + his moustachios, whilst his companions returned Andrea's salutation—St. + Auban gravely, and Vilmorin hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, Gaston,” said the boy, advancing towards me, “our host tells me that + two ladies who have been shipwrecked here wish to do me the honour of + occupying my apartments for an hour or so. Ha, there they are,” he added, + as the two girls came suddenly forward. Then bowing—“Mesdames, I am + enchanted to set the poor room at your disposal for as long as it may + please you to honour it.” + </p> + <p> + As the ladies—of whose presence St. Auban had been unaware—appeared + before us, I shot a glance at the Marquis, and, from the start he gave + upon beholding them, I saw that things were as I had suspected. + </p> + <p> + Before they could reply to Andrea, St. Auban suddenly advanced: + </p> + <p> + “Mesdemoiselles,” quoth he, “forgive me if in this miserable light I did + not earlier discover your presence and offer you my services. I do so now, + with the hope that you will honour me by making use of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Merci, M. de St. Auban,” replied the dark-haired one—whom I guessed + to be none other than Yvonne de Canaples herself—“but, since this + gentleman so gallantly cedes his apartments to us, all our needs are + satisfied. It would be churlish to refuse that which is so graciously + proffered.” + </p> + <p> + Her tone was cold in the extreme, as also was the inclination of her head + wherewith she favoured the Marquis. In arrant contrast were the pretty + words of thanks she addressed to Andrea, who stood by, blushing like a + girl, and a damnable scowl did this contrast draw from St. Auban, a scowl + that lasted until, escorted by the landlord, the two ladies had withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + There was an awkward pause when they were gone, and methought from the + look on St. Auban's face that he was about to provoke a fight after all. + Not so, however, for, after staring at us like a clown whilst one might + tell a dozen, he turned and strode to the door, calling for his horse and + those of his companions. + </p> + <p> + “Au révoir, M. de Luynes,” he said significantly as he got into the + saddle. + </p> + <p> + “Au révoir, M. de Luynes,” said also Malpertuis, coming close up to me. + “We shall meet again, believe me.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray God that we may not, if you would die in your bed,” I answered + mockingly. “Adieu!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. OF HOW ANDREA BECAME LOVE-SICK + </h2> + <p> + With what fictions I could call to mind I put off Andrea's questions + touching the peculiar fashion of St. Auban's leave-taking. Tell him the + truth and expose to him the situation whereof he was himself the + unconscious centre I dared not, lest his high-spirited impetuosity should + cause him to take into his own hands the reins of the affair, and thus + drive himself into irreparable disaster. + </p> + <p> + Andrea himself showed scant concern, however, and was luckily content with + my hurriedly invented explanations; his thoughts had suddenly found + occupation in another and a gentler theme than the ill-humour of men, and + presently his tongue betrayed them when he drew the conversation to the + ladies to whom he had resigned his apartments. + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu! Gaston,” he burst out, “she is a lovely maid—saw you ever + a bonnier?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed she is very beautiful,” I answered, laughing to myself at the + thought of how little he dreamt that it was of Yvonne St. Albaret de + Canaples that he spoke, and not minded for the while to enlighten him. + </p> + <p> + “If she be as kind and gentle as she is beautiful, Gaston, well—Uncle + Giulio's plans are likely to suffer shipwreck. I shall not leave Choisy + until I have spoken to her; in fact, I shall not leave until she leaves.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, we shall still be able to set out, as we had projected, + after dining, for in an hour, or two at most, they will proceed on their + journey.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for some moments, then: + </p> + <p> + “To the devil with the Cardinal's plans!” quoth he, banging his fist on + the table. “I shall not go to Blois.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” He halted for a moment, then in a meandering tone—“You + have read perchance in story-books,” he said, “of love being born from the + first meeting of two pairs of eyes, as a spark is born of flint and steel, + and you may have laughed at the conceit, as I have laughed at it. But + laugh no more, Gaston; for I who stand before you am one who has + experienced this thing which poets tell of, and which hitherto I have held + in ridicule. I will not go to Blois because—because—enfin, + because I intend to go where she goes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, mon cher, you will go to Blois. You will go to Blois, if not as a + dutiful nephew, resigned to obey his reverend uncle's wishes, at least + because fate forces you to follow a pair of eyes that have—hum, what + was it you said they did?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you say that she is going to Blois? How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? How do I know? Oh, I heard her servant speaking with the hostler.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better, then; for thus if his Eminence gets news of my + whereabouts, the news will not awaken his ever-ready suspicions. Ciel! How + beautiful she is! Noted you her eyes, her skin, and what hair, mon Dieu! + Like threads of gold!” + </p> + <p> + “Like threads of gold?” I echoed. “You are dreaming, boy. Oh, St. Gris! I + understand; you are speaking of the fair-haired chit that was with her.” + </p> + <p> + He eyed me in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “'T is you whose thoughts are wandering to that lanky, nose-in-the-air + Madame who accompanied her.” + </p> + <p> + I began a laugh that I broke off suddenly as I realised that it was not + Yvonne after all who had imprisoned his wits. The Cardinal's plans were, + indeed, likely to miscarry if he persisted thus. + </p> + <p> + “But 't was the nose-in-the-air Madame, as you call her, with whom you + spoke!” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, but it was the golden-haired lady that held my gaze. Pshaw! Who + would mention them in a breath?” + </p> + <p> + “Who, indeed?” said I, but with a different meaning. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter, seeing him listless, I suggested a turn in the village to + stretch our limbs before dining. But he would have none of it, and when I + pressed the point with sound reasoning touching the benefits which health + may cull from exercise, he grew petulant as a wayward child. She might + descend whilst he was absent. Indeed, she might require some slight + service that lay, perchance, in his power to render her. What an + opportunity would he not lose were he abroad? She might even depart before + we returned; and than that no greater calamity could just then befall him. + No, he would not stir a foot from the inn. A fig for exercise! to the + devil with health! who sought an appetite? Not he. He wished for no + appetite—could contrive no base and vulgar appetite for food, whilst + his soul, he swore, was being consumed by the overwhelming, all-effacing + appetite to behold her. + </p> + <p> + Such meandering fools are most of us at nineteen, when the heart is young—a + flawless mirror ready to hold the image of the first fair maid that looks + into it through our eyes, and as ready—Heaven knows!—to + relinquish it when the substance is withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + But I, who was not nineteen, and the mirror of whose heart—to pursue + my metaphor—was dulled, warped, and cracked with much illusage, + grew sick of the boy's enthusiasm and the monotony of a conversation which + I could divert into no other channel from that upon which it had been + started by a little slip of a girl with hair of gold and sapphire eyes—I + use Andrea's words. And so I rose, and bidding him take root in the + tavern, if so it pleased his fancy, I left him there. + </p> + <p> + Wrapped in my cloak, for the air was raw and damp, I strode aimlessly + along, revolving in my mind what had befallen at the Connétable that + morning, and speculating upon the issue that this quaint affair might + have. In matters of love, or rather, of matrimony—which is not quite + the same thing—opposition is common enough. But the opposers are + usually members of either of the interested families. Now the families—that + is to say, the heads of the families—being agreed and even anxious + to bring about the union of Yvonne de Canaples and Andrea de Mancini, it + was something new to have a cabal of persons who, from motives of + principle—as St. Auban had it—should oppose the alliance so + relentlessly as to even resort to violence if no other means occurred to + them. It seemed vastly probable that Andrea would be disposed of by a + knife in the back, and more than probable that a like fate would be + reserved for me, since I had constituted myself his guardian angel. For my + own part, however, I had a pronounced distaste to ending my days in so + unostentatious a fashion. I had also a notion that I should prove an + exceedingly difficult person to assassinate, and that those who sought to + slip a knife into me would find my hide peculiarly tough, and my hand + peculiarly ready to return the compliment. + </p> + <p> + So deeply did I sink into ponderings of this character that it was not + until two hours afterwards that I again found myself drawing near the + Connétable. + </p> + <p> + I reached the inn to find by the door a coach, and by that coach Andrea; + he stood bareheaded, despite the cold, conversing, with all outward + semblances of profound respect, with those within it. + </p> + <p> + So engrossed was he and so ecstatic, that my approach was unheeded, and + when presently I noted that the coach was Mademoiselle de Canaples's, I + ceased to wonder at the boy's unconsciousness of what took place around + him. + </p> + <p> + Clearly the farrier had been found at last, and the horse shod afresh + during my absence. Loath to interrupt so pretty a scene, I waited, aloof, + until these adieux should be concluded, and whilst I waited there came to + me from the carriage a sweet, musical voice that was not Yvonne's. + </p> + <p> + “May we not learn at least, Monsieur, the name of the gentleman to whose + courtesy we are indebted for having spent the past two hours without + discomfort?” + </p> + <p> + “My name, Mademoiselle, is Andrea de Mancini, that of the humblest of your + servants, and one to whom your thanks are a more than lavish payment for + the trivial service he may have been fortunate enough to render you.” + </p> + <p> + Dame! What glibness doth a tongue acquire at Court! + </p> + <p> + “M. Andrea de Mancini?” came Yvonne's voice in answer. “Surely a relative + of the Lord Cardinal?” + </p> + <p> + “His nephew, Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! My father, sir, is a great admirer of your uncle.” + </p> + <p> + From the half-caressing tone, as much as from the very words she uttered, + I inferred that she was in ignorance of the compact into which his + Eminence had entered with her father—a bargain whereof she was + herself a part. + </p> + <p> + “I am rejoiced, indeed, Mademoiselle,” replied Andrea with a bow, as + though the compliment had been paid to him. “Am I indiscreet in asking the + name of Monsieur your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Indiscreet! Nay, Monsieur. You have a right to learn the name of those + who are under an obligation to you. My father is the Chevalier de + Canaples, of whom it is possible that you may have heard. I am Yvonne de + Canaples, of whom it is unlikely that you should have heard, and this is + my sister Geneviève, whom a like obscurity envelops.” + </p> + <p> + The boy's lips moved, but no sound came from them, whilst his cheeks went + white and red by turns. His courtliness of a moment ago had vanished, and + he stood sheepish and gauche as a clown. At length he so far mastered + himself as to bow and make a sign to the coachman, who thereupon gathered + up his reins. + </p> + <p> + “You are going presumably to Blois?” he stammered with a nervous laugh, as + if the journey were a humorous proceeding. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monsieur,” answered Geneviève, “we are going home.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, it is possible that we shall meet again. I, too, am travelling + in that direction. A bientôt, Mesdemoiselles!” + </p> + <p> + The whip cracked, the coach began to move, and the creaking of its wheels + drowned, so far as I was concerned, the female voices that answered his + farewell. The coachman roused his horses into an amble; the amble became a + trot, and the vehicle vanished round a corner. Some few idlers stopped to + gaze stupidly after it, but not half so stupidly as did my poor Andrea, + standing bareheaded where the coach had left him. + </p> + <p> + I drew near, and laid my hand on his shoulder; at the touch he started + like one awakened suddenly, and looked up. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—you are returned, Gaston.” + </p> + <p> + “To find that you have made a discovery, and are overwhelmed by your + error.” + </p> + <p> + “My error?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—that of falling in love with the wrong one. Hélas, it is but + one of those ironical jests wherewith Fate amuses herself at every step of + our lives. Had you fallen in love with Yvonne—and it passes my + understanding why you did not—everything would have gone smoothly + with your wooing. Unfortunately, you have a preference for fair hair—” + </p> + <p> + “Have done,” he interrupted peevishly. “What does it signify? To the devil + with Mazarin's plans!” + </p> + <p> + “So you said this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, when I did not even dream her name was Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, she is the wrong Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “For my uncle—but, mille diables! sir, 't is I who am to wed, and I + shall wed as my heart bids me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! And Mazarin?” + </p> + <p> + “Faugh!” he answered, with an expressive shrug. + </p> + <p> + “Well, since you are resolved, let us dine.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no appetite.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us dine notwithstanding. Eat you must if you would live; and unless + you live—think of it!—you'll never reach Blois.” + </p> + <p> + “Gaston, you are laughing at me! I do not wish to eat.” + </p> + <p> + I surveyed him gravely, with my arms akimbo. + </p> + <p> + “Can love so expand the heart of man that it fills even his stomach? Well, + well, if you will not eat, at least have the grace to bear me company at + table. Come, Andrea,” and I took his arm, “let us ascend to that chamber + which she has but just quitted. Who can tell but that we shall find there + some token of her recent presence? If nothing more, at least the air will + be pervaded by the perfume she affected, and since you scorn the humble + food of man, you can dine on that.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled despite himself as I drew him towards the staircase. + </p> + <p> + “Scoffer!” quoth he. “Your callous soul knows naught of love.” + </p> + <p> + “Whereas you have had three hours' experience. Pardieu! You shall instruct + me in the gentle art.” + </p> + <p> + Alas, for those perfumes upon which I had proposed that he should feast + himself. If any the beautiful Geneviève had left behind her, they had been + smothered in the vulgar yet appetising odour of the steaming ragoût that + occupied the table. + </p> + <p> + I prevailed at length upon the love-lorn boy to take some food, but I + could lead him to talk of naught save Geneviève de Canaples. Presently he + took to chiding me for the deliberateness wherewith I ate, and betrayed + thereby his impatience to be in the saddle and after her. I argued that + whilst she saw him not she might think of him. But the argument, though + sound, availed me little, and in the end I was forced—for all that I + am a man accustomed to please myself—to hurriedly end my repast, and + pronounce myself ready to start. + </p> + <p> + As Andrea had with him some store of baggage—since his sojourn at + Blois was likely to be of some duration—he travelled in a coach. + Into this coach, then, we climbed—he and I. His valet, Silvio, + occupied the seat beside the coachman, whilst my stalwart Michelot rode + behind leading my horse by the bridle. In this fashion we set out, and ere + long the silence of my thoughtful companion, the monotonous rumbling of + the vehicle, and, most important of all factors, the good dinner that I + had consumed, bred in me a torpor that soon became a sleep. + </p> + <p> + From a dream that, bound hand and foot, I was being dragged by St. Auban + and Malpertuis before the Cardinal, I awakened with a start to find that + we were clattering already through the streets of Etrechy; so that whilst + I had slept we had covered some six leagues. Twilight had already set in, + and Andrea lay back idly in the carriage, holding a book which it was + growing too dark to read, and between the leaves of which he had slipped + his forefinger to mark the place where he had paused. + </p> + <p> + His eyes met mine as I looked round, and he smiled. “I should not have + thought, Gaston,” he said, “that a man with so seared a conscience could + have slept thus soundly.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not slept soundly,” I grumbled, recalling my dream. + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu! you have slept long, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “Out of self-protection; so that I might not hear the name of Geneviève de + Canaples. 'T is a sweet name, but you render it monotonous.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed good-humouredly. + </p> + <p> + “Have you never loved, Gaston?” + </p> + <p> + “Often.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—but I mean did you never conceive a great passion?” + </p> + <p> + “Hundreds, boy.” + </p> + <p> + “But never such a one as mine!” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly not; for the world has never seen its fellow. Be good enough to + pull the cord, you Cupid incarnate. I wish to alight.” + </p> + <p> + “You wish to alight! Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I am sick of love. I am going to ride awhile with Michelot whilst + you dream of her coral lips, her sapphire eyes, and what other gems + constitute her wondrous personality.” + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later I was in the saddle riding with Michelot in the wake of + the carriage. As I have already sought to indicate in these pages, + Michelot was as much my friend as my servant. It was therefore no more + than natural that I should communicate to him my fears touching what might + come of the machinations of St. Auban, Vilmorin, and even, perchance, of + that little firebrand, Malpertuis. + </p> + <p> + Night fell while we talked, and at last the lights of Étampes, where we + proposed to lie, peeped at us from a distance, and food and warmth. + </p> + <p> + It was eight o'clock when we reached the town, and a few moments later we + rattled into the courtyard of the Hôtel de l'Épée. + </p> + <p> + Andrea was out of temper to learn that Mesdemoiselles de Canaples had + reached the place two hours earlier, taken fresh horses, and proceeded on + their journey, intending to reach Monnerville that night. He was even mad + enough to propose that we should follow their example, but my sober + arguments prevailed, and at Étampes we stayed till morning. + </p> + <p> + Andrea withdrew early. But I, having chanced upon a certain M. de la + Vrillière, a courtier of Vilmorin's stamp, with whom I had some slight + acquaintance, and his purse being heavier than his wits, I spent a passing + profitable evening in his company. This pretty gentleman hailed my advent + with a delight that amazed me, and suggested that we should throw a main + together to kill time. The dice were found, and so clumsily did he use + them that in half an hour, playing for beggarly crowns, he had lost twenty + pistoles. Next he lost his temper, and with an oath pitched the cubes into + the fire, swearing that they were toys for children and that I must grant + him his révanche with cards. The cards were furnished us, and with a + fortune that varied little we played lansquenet until long past midnight. + The fire died out in the grate, and the air grew chill, until at last, + with a violent sneeze, La Vrillière protested that he would play no more. + </p> + <p> + Cursing himself for the unluckiest being alive, the fool bade me + good-night, and left me seventy pistoles richer than when I had met him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE CHÂTEAU DE CANAPLES + </h2> + <p> + Despite the strenuous efforts which Andrea compelled us to put forth, we + did not again come up with Mesdemoiselles de Canaples, who in truth must + have travelled with greater speed than ladies are wont to. + </p> + <p> + This circumstance bred much discomfort in Andrea's bosom; for in it he + read that his Geneviève thought not of him as he of her, else, knowing + that he followed the same road, she would have retarded their progress so + that he might overtake them. Thus argued he when on the following night, + which was that of Friday, we lay at Orleans. But when towards noon on + Saturday our journey ended with our arrival at Blois, he went so far as to + conclude that she had hastened on expressly to avoid him. Now, from what I + had seen of Mademoiselle Yvonne, methought I might hazard a guess that she + it was who commanded in these—and haply, too, in other—matters, + and that the manner of their journey had been such as was best to her + wishes. + </p> + <p> + With such an argument did I strive to appease Andrea's doubts; but all in + vain—which is indeed no matter for astonishment, for to reason with + a man in love is to reason with one who knows no reason. + </p> + <p> + After a brief halt at the Lys de France—at which hostelry I hired + myself a room—we set out for the Château de Canaples, which is + situated on the left bank of the Loire, at a distance of about half a + league from Blois in the direction of Tours. + </p> + <p> + We cut a brave enough figure as we rode down the Rue Vieille attended by + our servants, and many a rustic Blaisois stopped to gape at us, to nudge + his companion, and point us out, whispering the word “Paris.” + </p> + <p> + I had donned my grey velvet doublet—deeming the occasion worthy of + it—whilst Andrea wore a handsome suit of black, with gold lace, + which for elegance it would have been difficult to surpass. An air of + pensiveness added interest to his handsome face and courtly figure, and + methought that Geneviève must be hard to please if she fell not a victim + to his wooing. + </p> + <p> + We proceeded along the road bordering the Loire, a road of rare beauty at + any other season of the year, but now bare of foliage, grey, bleak, and + sullen as the clouds overhead, and as cold to the eye as was the sharp + wind to the flesh. As we rode I fell to thinking of what my reception at + the Château de Canaples was likely to be, and almost to regret that I had + permitted Andrea to persuade me to accompany him. Long ago I had known the + Chevalier de Canaples, and for all the disparity in our ages—for he + counted twice my years—we had been friends and comrades. That, + however, was ten years ago, in the old days when I owned something more + than the name of Luynes. To-day I appeared before him as a ruined + adventurer, a soldier of fortune, a ruffler, a duellist who had almost + slain his son in a brawl, whose details might be known to him, but not its + origin. Seeing me in the company of Andrea de Mancini he might—who + could say?—even deem me one of those parasites who cling to young + men of fortune so that they may live at their expense. That the daughter + would have formed such a conceit of me I was assured; it but remained to + see with what countenance the father would greet me. + </p> + <p> + From such speculations I was at length aroused by our arrival at the gates + of the Canaples park. Seeing them wide open, we rode between the two + massive columns of granite (each surmounted by a couchant lion holding the + escutcheon of the Canaples) and proceeded at an ambling pace up the + avenue. Through the naked trees the château became discernible—a + brave old castle that once had been the stronghold of a feudal race long + dead. Grey it was, and attuned, that day, to the rest of the grey + landscape. But at its base the ivy grew thick and green, and here and + there long streaks of it crept up almost to the battlements, whilst in one + place it had gone higher yet and clothed one of the quaint old turrets. A + moat there had once been, but this was now filled up and arranged into + little mounds that became flower-beds in summer. + </p> + <p> + Resigning our horses to the keeping of our servants, we followed the grave + maître d'hôtel who had received us. He led us across the spacious hall, + which had all the appearance of an armoury, and up the regal staircase of + polished oak on to a landing wide and lofty. Here, turning to the left, he + opened a door and desired us to give ourselves the trouble of awaiting the + Chevalier. We entered a handsome room, hung in costly Dutch tapestry, and + richly furnished, yet with a sobriety of colour almost puritanical. The + long windows overlooked a broad terrace, enclosed in a grey stone + balustrade, from which some half-dozen steps led to a garden below. Beyond + that ran the swift waters of the Loire, and beyond that again, in the + distance, we beheld the famous Château de Chambord, built in the days of + the first Francis. + </p> + <p> + I had but remarked these details when the door again opened, to admit a + short, slender man in whose black hair and beard the hand of time had + scattered but little of that white dust that marks its passage. His face + was pale, thin, and wrinkled, and his grey eyes had a nervous, restless + look that dwelt not long on anything. He was dressed in black, with simple + elegance, and his deep collar and ruffles were of the finest point. + </p> + <p> + “Welcome to Canaples, M. de Mancini!” he exclaimed, as he hurried forward, + with a smile so winning that his countenance appeared transfigured by it. + “Welcome most cordially! We had not hoped that you would arrive so soon, + but fortunately my daughters, to whom you appear to have been of service + at Choisy, warned me that you were journeying hither. Your apartments, + therefore, are prepared for you, and we hope that you will honour Canaples + by long remaining its guest.” + </p> + <p> + Andrea thanked him becomingly. + </p> + <p> + “In truth,” he added, “my departure from Paris was somewhat sudden, but I + have a letter here from Monseigneur my uncle, which explains the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “No explanation is needed, my dear Andrea,” replied the old nobleman, + abandoning the formalities that had marked his welcoming speech. “How left + you my Lord Cardinal?” he asked, as he took the letter. + </p> + <p> + “In excellent health, but somewhat harassed, I fear, by the affairs of + State.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, yes. But stay. You are not alone.” And Canaples's grey eyes shot + an almost furtive glance of inquiry in my direction. A second glance + followed the first and the Chevalier's brows were knit. Then he came a + step nearer, scanning my face. + </p> + <p> + “Surely, surely, Monsieur,” he exclaimed before Andrea had time to answer + him. “Were you not at Rocroi?” + </p> + <p> + “Your memory flatters me, Monsieur,” I replied with a laugh. “I was indeed + at Rocroi—captain in the regiment of chévaux-légers whereof you were + Mestre de Champ.” + </p> + <p> + “His name,” said Andrea, “is Gaston de Luynes, my very dear friend, + counsellor, and, I might almost say, protector.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu, yes! Gaston de Luynes!” he ejaculated, seizing my hand in an + affectionate grip. “But how have you fared since Rocroi was fought? For a + soldier of such promise, one might have predicted great things in ten + years.” + </p> + <p> + “Hélas, Monsieur! I was dismissed the service after Senlac.” + </p> + <p> + “Dismissed the service!” + </p> + <p> + “Pah!” I laughed, not without bitterness, “'t is a long story and an ugly + one, divided 'twixt the dice-box, the bottle, and the scabbard. Ten years + ago I was a promising young captain, ardent and ambitious; to-day I am a + broken ruffler, unrecognised by my family—a man without hope, + without ambition, almost without honour.” + </p> + <p> + I know not what it was that impelled me to speak thus. Haply the wish that + since he must soon learn to what depths Gaston de Luynes had sunk, he + should at least learn it from my own lips at the outset. + </p> + <p> + He shuddered at my concluding words, and had not Andrea at that moment put + his arm affectionately upon my shoulder, and declared me the bravest + fellow and truest friend in all the world, it is possible that the + Chevalier de Canaples would have sought an excuse to be rid of me. Such + men as he seek not the acquaintance of such men as I. + </p> + <p> + To please Andrea was, however, of chief importance in his plans, and to + that motive I owe it that he pressed me to remain a guest at the château. + I declined the honour with the best grace I could command, determined that + whilst Andrea remained at Canaples I would lodge at the Lys de France in + Blois, independent and free to come or go as my fancy bade me. His + invitation that I should at least dine at Canaples I accepted; but with + the condition that he should repeat his invitation after he had heard + something that I wished to tell him. He assented with a puzzled look, and + when presently Andrea repaired to his apartments, and we were alone, I + began. + </p> + <p> + “You have doubtlessly received news, Monsieur, of a certain affair in + which your son had recently the misfortune to be dangerously wounded?” + </p> + <p> + We were standing by the great marble fireplace, and Canaples was resting + one of his feet upon the huge brass andirons. He made a gesture of + impatience as I spoke. + </p> + <p> + “My son, sir, is a fool! A good-for-nothing fool! Oh, I have heard of this + affair, a vulgar tavern brawl, the fifth in which his name has been + involved and besmirched. I had news this morning by a courier dispatched + me by my friend St. Simon, who imagines that I am deeply concerned in that + young profligate. I learn that he is out of danger, and that in a month or + so, he will be about again and ready to disgrace the name of Canaples + afresh. But there, sir; I crave your pardon for the interruption.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed, and when in answer to my questions he told me that he was in + ignorance of the details of the affair of which I spoke, I set about + laying those details before him. Beginning with the original provocation + in the Palais Royal and ending with the fight in the horse-market, I + related the whole story to him, but in an impersonal manner, and keeping + my own name out of my narrative. When I had done, Canaples muttered an + oath of the days of the fourth Henry. + </p> + <p> + “Ventre St. Gris! Does the dog carry his audacity so far as to dare come + betwixt me and my wishes, and to strive against them? He sought to kill + Mancini, eh? Would to Heaven he had died by the hand of this fellow who + shielded the lad!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” I cried, aghast at so unnatural an expression. + </p> + <p> + “Pah!” he cried harshly. “He is my son in name alone, filial he never + was.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, Monsieur, he is still your son, your heir.” + </p> + <p> + “My heir? And what, pray, does he inherit? A title—a barren, + landless title! By his shameful conduct he alienated the affection of his + uncle, and his uncle has disinherited him in favour of Yvonne. 'T is she + who will be mistress of this château with its acres of land reaching from + here to Blois, and three times as far on the other side. My brother, sir, + was the rich Canaples, the owner of all this, and by his testament I am + his heir during my lifetime, the estates going to Yvonne at my death. So + that you see I have naught to leave; but if I had, not a dénier should go + to my worthless son!” + </p> + <p> + He spread his thin hands before the blaze, and for a moment there was + silence. Then I proceeded to tell him of the cabal which had been formed + against Mancini, and of the part played by St. Auban. At the mention of + that name he started as if I had stung him. + </p> + <p> + “What!” he thundered. “Is that ruffian also in the affair? Sangdieu! His + motives are not far to seek. He is a suitor—an unfavoured suitor—for + the hand of Yvonne, that seemingly still hopes. But you have not told me, + Monsieur, the name of this man who has stood betwixt Andrea and his + assassins.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you not guess, Monsieur?” quoth I, looking him squarely in the face. + “Did you not hear Andrea call me, even now, his protector.” + </p> + <p> + “You? And with what motive, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “At first, as I have told you, because the Cardinal gave me no choice in + the matter touching your son. Since then my motive has lain in my + friendship for the boy. He has been kind and affectionate to one who has + known little kindness or affection in life. I seek to repay him by + advancing his interests and his happiness. That, Monsieur, is why I am + here to-day—to shield him from St. Auban and his fellows should they + appear again, as I believe they will.” + </p> + <p> + The old man stood up and eyed me for a moment as steadily as his + vacillating glance would permit him, then he held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I trust, Monsieur,” he said, “that you will do me the honour to dine with + us, and that whilst you are at Blois we shall see you at Canaples as often + as it may please you to cross its threshold.” + </p> + <p> + I took his hand, but without enthusiasm, for I understood that his words + sprang from no warmth of heart for me, but merely from the fact that he + beheld in me a likely ally to his designs of raising his daughter to the + rank of Duchess. + </p> + <p> + Eugène de Canaples may have been a good-for-nothing knave; still, + methought his character scarce justified the callous indifference + manifested by this selfish, weak-minded old man towards his own son. + </p> + <p> + There was a knock at the door, and a lackey—the same Guilbert whom I + had seen at Choisy in Mademoiselle's company—appeared with the + announcement that the Chevalier was served. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. THE FORESHADOW OF DISASTER + </h2> + <p> + In the spacious dining salon of the Château de Canaples I found the two + daughters of my host awaiting us—those same two ladies of the coach + in Place Vendôme and of the hostelry at Choisy, the dark and stately + icicle, Yvonne, and the fair, playful doll, Geneviève. + </p> + <p> + I bowed my best bow as the Chevalier presented me, and from the corner of + my eye, with inward malice, I watched them as I did so. Geneviève curtsied + with a puzzled air and a sidelong glance at her sister. Yvonne accorded me + the faintest, the coldest, inclination of her head, whilst her cheeks + assumed a colour that was unwonted. + </p> + <p> + “We have met before, I think, Monsieur,” she said disdainfully. + </p> + <p> + “True, Mademoiselle—once,” I answered, thinking only of the coach. + </p> + <p> + “Twice, Monsieur,” she corrected, whereupon I recalled how she had + surprised me with my arm about the waist of the inn-keeper's daughter, and + had Heaven given me shame I might have blushed. But if sweet Yvonne + thought to bring Gaston de Luynes to task for profiting by the good things + which God's providence sent his way, she was led by vanity into a + prodigious error. + </p> + <p> + “Twice, indeed, Mademoiselle. But the service which you rendered me upon + the first occasion was so present to my mind just now that it eclipsed the + memory of our second meeting. I have ever since desired, Mademoiselle, + that an opportunity might be mine wherein to thank you for the + preservation of my life. I do so now, and at your service do I lay that + life which you preserved, and which is therefore as much yours as mine.” + </p> + <p> + Strive as I might I could not rid my tone of an ironical inflection. I was + goaded to it by her attitude, by the scornful turn of her lip and the + disdainful glance of her grey eyes—she had her father's eyes, saving + that her gaze was as steadfast as his was furtive. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” quoth Canaples. “You owe your life to my daughter? Pray + tell me of it.” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” I made haste to answer before Mademoiselle could + speak. “A week ago, I disagreed upon a question of great delicacy with a + certain gentleman who shall be nameless. The obvious result attended our + disagreement, and we fought 'neath the eyes of a vast company of + spectators. Right was on my side, and the gentleman hurt himself upon my + sword. Well, sir, the crowd snarled at me as though it were my fault that + this had so befallen, and I flouted the crowd in answer. They were a + hundred opposed to one, and so confident did this circumstance render them + of their superiority, that for once those whelps displayed sufficient + valour to attack me. I fled, and as a coach chanced to come that way, I + clutched at the window and hung there. Within the coach there were two + ladies, and one of them, taking compassion upon me, invited me to enter + and thus rescued me. That lady, sir,” I ended with a bow, “was + Mademoiselle your daughter.” + </p> + <p> + In his eyes I read it that he had guessed the name of my nameless + gentleman. + </p> + <p> + The ladies were struck dumb by my apparent effrontery. Yvonne at last + recovered sufficiently to ask if my presence at the château arose from my + being attached to M. de Mancini. Now, “attached” is an unpleasant word. A + courtier is attached to the King; a soldier to the army; there is + humiliation in neither of these. But to a private gentleman, a man may be + only attached as his secretary, his valet, or, possibly, as his bravo. + Therein lay the sting of her carefully chosen word. + </p> + <p> + “I am M. de Mancini's friend,” I answered with simple dignity. + </p> + <p> + For all reply she raised her eyebrows in token of surprise; Canaples + looked askance; I bit my lip, and an awkward silence followed, which, + luckily, was quickly ended by the appearance of Andrea. + </p> + <p> + The ladies received him graciously, and a faint blush might, to searching + eyes, have been perceived upon Geneviève's cheek. + </p> + <p> + There came a delicate exchange of compliments, after which we got to + table, and for my part I did ample justice to the viands. + </p> + <p> + I sat beside Geneviève, and vis-à-vis with Andrea, who occupied the place + of the honoured guest, at the host's right hand, with Yvonne beside him. + Me it concerned little where I sat, since the repast was all that I could + look for; not so the others. Andrea scowled at me because I was nearer to + Geneviève than he, and Yvonne frowned at me for other reasons. By + Geneviève I was utterly disregarded, and my endeavours to converse were + sorely unsuccessful—for one may not converse alone. + </p> + <p> + I clearly saw that Yvonne only awaited an opportunity to unmask me, and + denounce me to her father as the man who had sought his son's life. + </p> + <p> + This opportunity, however, came not until the moment of my departure from + the château, that evening. I was crossing the hail with the Chevalier de + Canaples, and we had stopped for a moment to admire a piece of old chain + armour of the days of the Crusaders. Andrea and Geneviève had preceded us, + and passed out through the open doorway, whilst Yvonne lingered upon the + threshold looking back. + </p> + <p> + “I trust, M. de Luynes,” said Canaples, as we moved towards her, “that you + will remember my invitation, and that whilst you remain at Biois we shall + see you here as often as you may be pleased to come; indeed, I trust that + you will be a daily visitor.” + </p> + <p> + Before I could utter a reply—“Father,” exclaimed Mademoiselle, + coming forward, “do you know to whom you are offering the hospitality of + Canaples?” + </p> + <p> + “Why that question, child? To M. de Luynes, M. de Mancini's friend.” + </p> + <p> + “And the would-be murderer of Eugène,” she added fiercely. + </p> + <p> + Canaples started. + </p> + <p> + “Surely such affairs are not for women to meddle with,” he cried. + “Moreover, M. de Luynes has already given me all details of the affair.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes grew very wide at that. + </p> + <p> + “He has told you? Yet you invite him hither?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Luynes has naught wherewith to reproach himself, nor have I. Those + details which he has given me I may not impart to you; suffice it, + however, that I am satisfied that his conduct could not have been other + than it was, whereas that of my son reflects but little credit upon his + name.” + </p> + <p> + She stamped her foot, and her eyes, blazing with anger, passed from one to + the other of us. + </p> + <p> + “And you—you believe this man's story?” + </p> + <p> + “Yvonne!” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly,” I interposed, coolly, “Mademoiselle may have received some + false account of it that justifies her evident unbelief in what I may have + told you.” + </p> + <p> + It is not easy to give a lie unless you can prove it a lie. I made her + realise this, and she bit her lip in vexation. Dame! What a pretty viper I + thought her at that moment! + </p> + <p> + “Let me add, Yvonne,” said her father, “that M. de Luynes and I are old + comrades in arms.” Then turning to me—“My daughter, sir, is but a + child, and therefore hasty to pass judgment upon matters beyond her + understanding. Forget this foolish outburst, and remember only my + assurance of an ever cordial welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” I answered, after a moment's deliberation, during + which I had argued that for once I must stifle pride if I would serve + Andrea. + </p> + <p> + “Ough!” was all Mademoiselle's comment as she turned her back upon me. + Nevertheless, I bowed and flourished my beaver to her retreating figure. + </p> + <p> + Clearly Mademoiselle entertained for me exactly that degree of fondness + which a pious hermit feels for the devil, and if I might draw conclusions + from what evidences I had had of the strength of her character and the + weakness of her father's, our sojourn at Blois promised to afford me + little delectation. In fact, I foresaw many difficulties that might lead + to disaster should our Paris friends appear upon the scene—a + contingency this that seemed over-imminent. + </p> + <p> + It was not my wont, howbeit, to brood over the evils that the future might + hold, and to this I owe it that I slept soundly that night in my room at + the Lys de France. + </p> + <p> + It was a pleasant enough chamber on the first floor, overlooking the + street, and having an alcove attached to it which served for Michelot. + </p> + <p> + Next day I visited the Château de Canaples early in the afternoon. The + weather was milder, and the glow of the sun heralded at last the near + approach of spring and brightened wondrously a landscape that had + yesterday worn so forbidding a look. + </p> + <p> + This change it must have been that drew the ladies, and Andrea with them, + to walk in the park, where I came upon them as I rode up. Their laughter + rippled merrily and they appeared upon the best of terms until they espied + me. My advent was like a cloud that foretells a storm, and drove + Mesdemoiselles away, when they had accorded me a greeting that contained + scant graciousness. + </p> + <p> + All unruffled by this act, from which I gathered that Yvonne the strong + had tutored Geneviève the frail concerning me, I consigned my horse to a + groom of the château, and linked arms with Andrea. + </p> + <p> + “Well, boy,” quoth I, “what progress?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled radiantly. + </p> + <p> + “My hopes are all surpassed. It exceeds belief that so poor a thing as I + should find favour in her eyes—what eyes, Gaston!” He broke off with + a sigh of rapture. + </p> + <p> + “Peste, you have lost no time. And so, already you know that you find + favour, eh! How know you that?” + </p> + <p> + “How? Need a man be told such things? There is an inexpressible—” + </p> + <p> + “My good Andrea, seek not to express it, therefore,” I interrupted + hastily. “Let it suffice that the inexpressible exists, and makes you + happy. His Eminence will doubtless share your joy! Have you written to + him?” + </p> + <p> + The mirth faded from the lad's face at the words, as the blossom fades + 'neath the blighting touch of frost. What he said was so undutiful from a + nephew touching his uncle—particularly when that uncle is a prelate—that + I refrain from penning it. + </p> + <p> + We were joined just then by the Chevalier, and together we strolled round + to the rose-garden—now, alas! naught but black and naked bushes—and + down to the edge of the Loire, yellow and swollen by the recent rains. + </p> + <p> + “How lovely must be this place in summer,” I mused, looking across the + water towards Chambord. “And, Dame,” I cried, suddenly changing my + meditations, “what an ideal fencing ground is this even turf!” + </p> + <p> + “The swordsman's instinct,” laughed Canaples. + </p> + <p> + And with that our talk shifted to swords, swordsmen, and sword-play, until + I suggested to Andrea that he should resume his practice, whereupon the + Chevalier offered to set a room at our disposal. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, if you will pardon me, Monsieur, 't is not a room we want,” I + answered. “A room is well enough at the outset, but it is the common error + of fencing-masters to continue their tutoring on a wooden floor. It + results from this that when the neophyte handles a real sword, and defends + his life upon the turf, the ground has a new feeling; its elasticity or + even its slipperiness discomposes him, and sets him at a disadvantage.” + </p> + <p> + He agreed with me, whilst Andrea expressed a wish to try the turf. Foils + were brought, and we whiled away best part of an half-hour. In the end, + the Chevalier, who had watched my play intently, offered to try a bout + with me. And so amazed was he with the result, that he had not done + talking of it when I left Canaples a few hours later—a homage this + that earned me some more than ordinarily unfriendly glances from Yvonne. + No doubt since the accomplishment was mine it became in her eyes + characteristic of a bully and a ruffler. + </p> + <p> + During the week that followed I visited the château with regularity, and + with equal regularity did Andrea receive his fencing lessons. The object + of his presence at Canaples, however, was being frustrated more and more + each day, so far as the Cardinal and the Chevalier were concerned. + </p> + <p> + He raved to me of Geneviève, the one perfect woman in all the world and + brought into it by a kind Providence for his own particular delectation. + In truth, love is like a rabid dog—whom it bites it renders mad; so + open grew his wooing, and so ardent, that one evening I thought well to + take him aside and caution him. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Andrea,” said I, “if you will love Geneviève, you will, and + there's an end of it. But if you would not have the Chevalier pack you + back to Paris and the anger of my Lord Cardinal, be circumspect, and at + least when M. de Canaples is by divide your homage equally betwixt the + two. 'T were well if you dissembled even a slight preference for Yvonne—she + will not be misled by it, seeing how unmistakable at all other seasons + must be your wooing of Geneviève.” + </p> + <p> + He was forced to avow the wisdom of my counsel, and to be guided by it. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, I rode back to my hostelry in no pleasant frame of mind. It + was more than likely that a short shrift and a length of hemp would be the + acknowledgment I should anon receive from Mazarin for my participation in + the miscarriage of his desires. + </p> + <p> + I felt that disaster was on the wing. Call it a premonition; call it what + you will. I know but this; that as I rode into the courtyard of the Lys de + France, at dusk, the first man my eyes alighted on was the Marquis César + de St. Auban, and, in conversation with him, six of the most + arrant-looking ruffians that ever came out of Paris. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. OF HOW A WHIP PROVED A BETTER ARGUMENT THAN A TONGUE + </h2> + <p> + “I crave Monsieur's pardon, but there is a gentleman below who desires to + speak with you immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “How does this gentleman call himself, M. l'Hote?” + </p> + <p> + “M. le Marquis de St. Auban,” answered the landlord, still standing in the + doorway. + </p> + <p> + It wanted an hour or so to noon on the day following that of St. Auban's + arrival at Blois, and I was on the point of setting out for the château on + an errand of warning. + </p> + <p> + It occurred to me to refuse to see the Marquis, but remembering betimes + that from your enemy's speech you may sometimes learn where to look for + his next attack, I thought better of it and bade my host admit him. + </p> + <p> + I strode over to the fire, and stirring the burning logs, I put my back to + the blaze, and waited. + </p> + <p> + Steps sounded on the stairs; there was the shuffling of the landlord's + slippered feet and the firm tread of my visitor, accompanied by the jingle + of spurs and the clank of his scabbard as it struck the balustrade. Then + my door was again opened, and St. Auban, as superbly dressed as ever, was + admitted. + </p> + <p> + We bowed formally, as men bow who are about to cross swords, and whilst I + waited for him to speak, I noted that his face was pale and bore the + impress of suppressed anger. + </p> + <p> + “So, M. de Luynes, again we meet.” + </p> + <p> + “By your seeking, M. le Marquis.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not polite.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not opportune.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled dangerously. + </p> + <p> + “I learn, Monsieur, that you are a daily visitor at the Château de + Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, what of it?” + </p> + <p> + “This. I have been to Canaples this morning and, knowing that you will + learn anon, from that old dotard, what passed between us, I prefer that + you shall hear it first from me.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed to conceal a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks to you, M. de Luynes, I was ordered from the house. I—César + de St. Auban—have been ordered from the house of a provincial + upstart! Thanks to the calumnies which you poured into his ears.” + </p> + <p> + “Calumnies! Was that the word?” + </p> + <p> + “I choose the word that suits me best,” he answered, and the rage that was + in him at the affront he had suffered at the hands of the Chevalier de + Canaples was fast rising to the surface. “I warned you at Choisy of what + would befall. Your opposition and your alliance with M. de Mancini are + futile. You think to have gained a victory by winning over to your side an + old fool who will sacrifice his honour to see his daughter a duchess, but + I tell you, sir—” + </p> + <p> + “That you hope to see her a marchioness,” I put in calmly. “You see, M. de + St. Auban, I have learned something since I came to Blois.” + </p> + <p> + He grew livid with passion. + </p> + <p> + “You shall learn more ere you quit it, you meddler! You shall be taught to + keep that long nose of yours out of matters that concern you not.” + </p> + <p> + I laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Loud threats!” I answered jeeringly. + </p> + <p> + “Never fear,” he cried, “there is more to follow. To your cost shall you + learn it. By God, sir! do you think that I am to suffer a Sicilian + adventurer and a broken tavern ruffler to interfere with my designs?” + </p> + <p> + Still I kept my temper. + </p> + <p> + “So!” I said in a bantering tone. “You confess that you have designs. + Good! But what says the lady, eh? I am told that she is not yet + outrageously enamoured of you, for all your beauty!” + </p> + <p> + Beside himself with passion, his hand sought his sword. But the gesture + was spasmodic. + </p> + <p> + “Knave!” he snarled. + </p> + <p> + “Knave to me? Have a care, St. Auban, or I'll find you a shroud for a + wedding garment.” + </p> + <p> + “Knave!” he repeated with a snarl. “What price are you paid by that boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu, St. Auban! You shall answer to me for this.” + </p> + <p> + “Answer for it? To you!” And he laughed harshly. “You are mad, my master. + When did a St. Auban cross swords with a man of your stamp?” + </p> + <p> + “M. le Marquis,” I said, with a calmness that came of a stupendous effort, + “at Choisy you sought my friendship with high-sounding talk of principles + that opposed you to the proposed alliance, twixt the houses of Mancini and + Canaples. Since then I have learned that your motives were purely + personal. From my discovery I hold you to be a liar.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + “I have not yet done. You refuse to cross swords with me on the pretext + that you do not fight men of my stamp. I am no saint, sir, I confess. But + my sins cannot wash out my name—the name of a family accounted as + good as that of St. Auban, and one from which a Constable of France has + sprung, whereas yours has never yet bred aught but profligates and + debauchees. You are little better than I am, Marquis; indeed, you do many + things that I would not do, that I have never done. For instance, whilst + refusing to cross blades with me, who am a soldier and a man of the sword, + you seek to pick a fight with a beardless boy who hardly knows the use of + a rapier, and who—wittingly at least—has done you no wrong. + Now, my master, you may call me profligate, ruffler, gamester, duellist—what + you will; but there are two viler things you cannot dub me, and which, + methinks, I have proven you to be—liar and craven.” + </p> + <p> + And as I spoke the burning words, I stood close up to him and tapped his + breast as if to drive the epithets into his very heart. + </p> + <p> + Rage he felt, indeed, and his distorted countenance was a sight fearful to + behold. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my master,” I added, setting my arms akimbo and laughing brutally in + his face, “will you fight?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment he wavered, and surely meseemed that I had drawn him. Then: + </p> + <p> + “No,” he cried passionately. “I will not do dishonour to my sword.” And + turning he made for the door, leaving me baffled. + </p> + <p> + “Go, sir,” I shouted, “but fame shall stalk fast behind you. Liar and + craven will I dub you throughout the whole of France.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped 'neath the lintel, and faced me again. + </p> + <p> + “Fool,” he sneered. “You'll need dispatch to spread my fame so far. By + this time to-morrow you'll be arrested. In three days you will be in the + Bastille, and there shall you lie until you rot to carrion.” + </p> + <p> + “Loud threats again!” I laughed, hoping by the taunt to learn more. + </p> + <p> + “Loud perchance, but not empty. Learn that the Cardinal has knowledge of + your association with Mancini, and means to separate you. An officer of + the guards is on his way to Blois. He is at Meung by now. He bears a + warrant for your arrest and delivery to the governor of the Bastille. + Thereafter, none may say what will betide.” And with a coarse burst of + laughter he left me, banging the door as he passed out. + </p> + <p> + For a moment I stood there stricken by his parting words. He had sought to + wound me, and in this he had succeeded. But at what cost to himself? In + his blind rage, the fool had shown me that which he should have zealously + concealed, and what to him was but a stinging threat was to me a timely + warning. I saw the necessity for immediate action. Two things must I do; + kill St. Auban first, then fly the Cardinal's warrant as best I could. I + cast about me for means to carry out the first of these intentions. My eye + fell upon my riding-whip, lying on a chair close to my hand, and the sight + of it brought me the idea I sought. Seizing it, I bounded out of the room + and down the stairs, three steps at a stride. + </p> + <p> + Along the corridor I sped and into the common-room, which at the moment + was tolerably full. As I entered by one door, the Marquis was within three + paces of the other, leading to the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + My whip in the air, I sprang after him; and he, hearing the rush of my + onslaught, turned, then uttered a cry of pain as I brought the lash + caressingly about his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Now, master craven,” I shouted, “will that change your mind?” + </p> + <p> + With an almost inarticulate cry, he sought to draw there and then, but + those about flung themselves upon us, and held us apart—I, passive + and unresisting; the Marquis, bellowing, struggling, and foaming at the + mouth. + </p> + <p> + “To meet you now would be to murder you, Marquis,” I said coolly. “Send + your friends to me to appoint the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Soit!” he cried, his eyes blazing with a hate unspeakable. “At eight + to-morrow morning I shall await you on the green behind the castle of + Blois.” + </p> + <p> + “At eight o'clock I shall be there,” I answered. “And now, gentlemen, if + you will unhand me, I will return to my apartments.” + </p> + <p> + They let me go, but with many a growl and angry look, for in their eyes I + was no more than a coarse aggressor, whilst their sympathy was all for St. + Auban. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THE CONSCIENCE OF MALPERTUIS + </h2> + <p> + And so back to my room I went, my task accomplished, and so pleased was I + with what had passed that as I drew on my boots—preparing to set out + to Canaples—I laughed softly to myself. + </p> + <p> + St. Auban I would dispose of in the morning. As for the other members of + the cabal, I deemed neither Vilmorin nor Malpertuis sufficiently + formidable to inspire uneasiness. St. Auban gone, they too would vanish. + There remained then Eugène de Canaples. Him, however, methought no great + evil was to be feared from. In Paris he might be as loud-voiced as he + pleased, but in his father's château—from what I had learned—'t + was unlikely he would so much as show himself. Moreover, he was wounded, + and before he had sufficiently recovered to offer interference it was more + than probable that Andrea would have married one or the other of + Mesdemoiselles de Canaples—though I had a shrewd suspicion that it + would be the wrong one, and there again I feared trouble. + </p> + <p> + As I stood up, booted and ready to descend, there came a gentle tap at my + door, and, in answer to my “Enter,” there stood before me a very dainty + and foppish figure. I stared hard at the effeminate face and the long fair + locks of my visitor, thinking that I had become the dupe of my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Vilmorin!” I murmured in astonishment, as he came forward, having + closed the door. “You here?” + </p> + <p> + In answer, he bowed and greeted me with cold ceremoniousness. + </p> + <p> + “I have been in Blois since yesterday, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “In truth I might have guessed it, Vicomte. Your visit flatters me, for, + of course, I take it, you are come to pay me your respects,” I said + ironically. “A glass of wine, Vicomte?” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand thanks, Monsieur—no,” he answered coldly in his mincing + tones. “It is concerning your affair with M. le Marquis de St. Auban that + I am come.” And drawing forth a dainty kerchief, which filled the room + with the scent of ambregris, he tapped his lips with it affectedly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you come as friend or—in some other capacity?” + </p> + <p> + “I come as mediator.” + </p> + <p> + “Mediator!” I echoed, and my brow grew dark. “Sdeath! Has St. Auban's + courage lasted just so long as the sting of my whip?” + </p> + <p> + He raised his eyebrows after a supercilious fashion that made me thirst to + strike the chair from under him. + </p> + <p> + “You misapprehend me; M. de St. Auban has no desire to avert the duel. On + the contrary, he will not rest until the affront you have put upon him be + washed out—” + </p> + <p> + “It will be, I'll answer for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Your answer, sir, is characteristic of a fanfarron. He who promises most + does not always fulfil most.” + </p> + <p> + I stared at him in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I promise you something, Vicomte? Mortdieu! If you seek to pick a + quarrel with me—” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid!” he ejaculated, turning colour. And his suddenly awakened + apprehensions swept aside the affectation that hitherto had marked his + speech and manner. + </p> + <p> + “Then, Monsieur, be brief and state the sum of this mediation.” + </p> + <p> + “It is this, Monsieur. In the heat of the moment, M. le Marquis gave you, + in the hearing of half a score of people, an assignation for to-morrow + morning. News of the affair will spread rapidly through Blois, and it is + likely there will be no lack of spectators on the green to witness the + encounter. Therefore, as my friend thinks this will be as unpalatable to + you as it is to him, he has sent me to suggest a fresh rendezvous.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, sir,” I answered lightly. “I care not, for myself, who comes. I am + accustomed to a crowd. Still, since M. de St. Auban finds it discomposing, + let us arrange otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + “There is yet another point. M. de St. Auban spoke to you, I believe, of + an officer who is coming hither charged with your arrest. It is probable + that he may reach Blois before morning, so that the Marquis thinks that to + make certain you might consent to meet him to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Ma foi. St. Auban is indeed in earnest then! Convey to him my expressions + of admiration at this suddenly awakened courage. Be good enough, Vicomte, + to name the rendezvous.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the chapel of St. Sulpice des Reaux?” + </p> + <p> + “What! Beyond the Loire?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely, Monsieur. About a league from Chambord by the river side.” + </p> + <p> + “I can find the place.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you meet us there at nine o'clock tonight?” + </p> + <p> + I looked askance at him. + </p> + <p> + “But why cross the river? This side affords many likely spots!” + </p> + <p> + “Very true, Monsieur. But the Marquis has business at Chambord this + evening, after which there will be no reason—indeed, it will + inconvenience him exceedingly—to return to Blois.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” I cried, more and more astonished. “St. Auban is leaving Blois?” + </p> + <p> + “This evening, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “But, voyons, Vicomte, why make an assignation in such a place and at + night, when at any hour of the day I can meet the Marquis on this side, + without suffering the inconvenience of crossing the river?” + </p> + <p> + “There will be a bright moon, well up by nine o'clock. Moreover, remember + that you cannot, as you say, meet St. Auban on this side at any time he + may appoint, since to-night or to-morrow the officer who is in search of + you will arrive.” + </p> + <p> + I pondered for a moment. Then: + </p> + <p> + “M. le Vicomte,” I said, “in this matter of ground 't is I who have the + first voice.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Because the Marquis is the affronted one.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore he has a right to choose.” + </p> + <p> + “A right, yes. But that is not enough. The necessity to fight is on his + side. His honour is hurt, not mine; I have whipped him; I am content. Now + let him come to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly you will not be so ungenerous.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not care about journeying to Reaux to afford him satisfaction.” + </p> + <p> + “Does Monsieur fear anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Vicomte, you go too far!” I cried, my pride gaining the mastery. “Since + it is asked of me,—I will go.” + </p> + <p> + “M. le Marquis will be grateful to you.” + </p> + <p> + “A fig for his gratitude,” I answered, whereupon the Vicomte shrugged his + narrow shoulders, and, his errand done, took his leave of me. + </p> + <p> + When he was gone I called Michelot, to tell him of the journey I must go + that night, so that he might hold himself in readiness. + </p> + <p> + “Why—if Monsieur will pardon me,” quoth he, “do you go to meet the + Marquis de St. Auban at St. Sulpice des Reaux by night?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely what I asked Vilmorin. The Marquis desires it, and—what + will you?—since I am going to kill the man, I can scarce do less + than kill him on a spot of his own choosing.” + </p> + <p> + Michelot screwed up his face and scratched at his grey beard with his huge + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Does no suspicion of foul play cross your mind, Monsieur?” he inquired + timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Shame on you, Michelot,” I returned with some heat. “You do not yet + understand the ways of gentlemen. Think you that M. de St. Auban would + stoop to such a deed as that? He would be shamed for ever! Pooh, I would + as soon suspect my Lord Cardinal of stealing the chalices from Nôtre Dame. + Go, see to my horse. I am riding to Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + As I rode out towards the château I fell to thinking, and my thoughts + turning to Vilmorin, I marvelled at the part he was playing in this little + comedy of a cabal against Andrea de Mancini. His tastes and instincts were + of the boudoir, the ante-chamber, and the table. He wore a sword because + it was so ordained by fashion, and because the hilt was convenient for the + display of a jewel or two. Certainly 't was not for utility that it hung + beside him, and no man had ever seen it drawn. Nature had made him the + most pitiable coward begotten. Why then should he involve himself in an + affair which promised bloodshed, and which must be attended by many a risk + for him? There was in all this some mystery that I could not fathom. + </p> + <p> + From the course into which they had slipped, my thoughts were diverted, + when I was within half a mile of the château, by the sight of a horseman + stationed, motionless, among the trees that bordered the road. It occurred + to me that men take not such a position without purpose—usually an + evil one. I slackened speed somewhat and rode on, watching him sharply. As + I came up, he walked his horse forward to meet me, and I beheld a man in + the uniform of the gardes du corps, in whom presently I recognised the + little sparrow Malpertuis, with whom I had exchanged witticisms at Choisy. + He was the one man wanting to complete the trinity that had come upon us + at the inn of the Connétable. + </p> + <p> + It flashed across my mind that he might be the officer charged with my + arrest, and that he had arrived sooner than had been expected. If so, it + was likely to go ill with him, for I was not minded to be taken until St. + Auban's soul sped hellwards. + </p> + <p> + He hailed me as I advanced, and indeed rode forward to meet me. + </p> + <p> + “You are come at last, M. de Luynes,” was his greeting. “I have waited for + you this hour past.” + </p> + <p> + “How knew you I should ride this way?” + </p> + <p> + “I learnt that you would visit Canaples before noon. Be good enough to + quit the road, and pass under those trees with me. I have something to say + to you, but it were not well that we should be seen together.” + </p> + <p> + “For the sake of your character or mine, M. Malappris?” + </p> + <p> + “Malpertuis!” he snapped. + </p> + <p> + “Malpertuis,” I corrected. “You were saying that we should not be seen + together.” + </p> + <p> + “St. Auban might hear of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! And therefore?” + </p> + <p> + “You shall learn.” We were now under the trees, which albeit leafless yet + screened us partly from the road. He drew rein, and I followed his + example. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Luynes,” he began, “I am or was a member of the cabal formed + against Mazarin's aims in the matter of the marriage of Mademoiselle de + Canaples to his nephew. I joined hands with St. Auban, lured by his + protestations that it is not meet that such an heiress as Yvonne de + Canaples should be forced to marry a foreigner of no birth and less + distinction, whilst France holds so many noble suitors to her hand. This + motive, by which I know that even Eugène de Canaples was actuated, was, + St. Auban gave me to understand, his only one for embarking upon this + business, as it was also Vilmorin's. Now, M. de Luynes, I have today + discovered that I had been duped by St. Auban and his dupe, Vilmorin. St. + Auban lied to me; another motive brings him into the affair. He seeks + himself, by any means that may present themselves, to marry Yvonne—and + her estates; whilst the girl, I am told, loathes him beyond expression. + Vilmorin again is actuated by no less a purpose. And so, what think you + these two knaves—this master knave and his dupe—have + determined? To carry off Mademoiselle by force!” + </p> + <p> + “Sangdieu!” I burst out, and would have added more, but his gesture + silenced me, and he continued: + </p> + <p> + “Vilmorin believes that St. Auban is helping him in this, whereas St. + Auban is but fooling him with ambiguous speeches until they have the lady + safe. Then might will assert itself, and St. Auban need but show his fangs + to drive the sneaking coward away from the prize he fondly dreams is to be + his.” + </p> + <p> + “When do these gentlemen propose to carry out their plan? Have they + determined that?” I inquired breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, they have. They hope to accomplish it this very day. Mademoiselle de + Canaples has received a letter wherein she is asked to meet her anonymous + writer in the coppice yonder, at the Angelus this evening, if she would + learn news of great importance to her touching a conspiracy against her + father.” + </p> + <p> + “Faugh!” I sneered. “'T is too poor a bait to lure her with.” + </p> + <p> + “Say you so? Believe me that unless she be dissuaded she will comply with + the invitation, so cunningly was the letter couched. A closed carriage + will be waiting at this very spot. Into this St. Auban, Vilmorin, and + their bravos will thrust the girl, then away through Blois and beyond it, + for a mile or so, in the direction of Meung, thereby misleading any chance + pursuers. There they will quit the coach and take a boat that is to be in + waiting for them and which will bear them back with the stream to + Chambord. Thereafter, God pity the poor lady if they get thus far without + mishap.” + </p> + <p> + “Mort de ma vie!” I cried, slapping my thigh, “I understand!” And to + myself I thought of the assignation at St. Sulpice des Reaux, and the + reason for this, as also St. Auban's resolution to so suddenly quit Blois, + grew of a sudden clear to me. Also did I recall the riddle touching + Vilmorin's conduct which a few moments ago I had puzzled over, and of + which methought that I now held the solution. + </p> + <p> + “What do you understand?” asked Malpertuis. + </p> + <p> + “Something that was told me this morning,” I made answer, then spoke of + gratitude, wherein he cut me short. + </p> + <p> + “I ask no thanks,” he said curtly. “You owe me none. What I have done is + not for love of you or Mancini—for I love neither of you. It is done + because noblesse m'oblige. I told St. Auban that I would have no part in + this outrage. But that is not enough; I owe it to my honour to attempt the + frustration of so dastardly a plan. You, M. de Luynes, appear to be the + most likely person to encompass this, in the interests of your friend + Mancini; I leave the matter, therefore, in your hands. Goodday!” + </p> + <p> + And with this abrupt leave-taking, the little fellow doffed his hat to me, + and wheeling his horse he set spurs in its flanks, and was gone before a + word of mine could have stayed him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. OF A WOMAN'S OBSTINACY + </h2> + <p> + “M. de Luynes is a wizard,” quoth Andrea, laughing, in answer to something + that had been said. + </p> + <p> + It was afternoon. We had dined, and the bright sunshine and spring-like + mildness of the weather had lured us out upon the terrace. Yvonne and + Geneviève occupied the stone seat. Andrea had perched himself upon the + granite balustrade, and facing them he sat, swinging his shapely legs to + and fro as he chatted merrily, whilst on either side of him stood the + Chevalier de Canaples and I. + </p> + <p> + “If M. de Luynes be as great a wizard in other things as with the sword, + then, pardieu, he is a fearful magician,” said Canaples. + </p> + <p> + I bowed, yet not so low but that I detected a sneer on Yvonne's lips. + </p> + <p> + “So, pretty lady,” said I to myself, “we shall see if presently your lip + will curl when I show you something of my wizard's art.” + </p> + <p> + And presently my chance came. M. de Canaples found reason to leave us, and + no sooner was he gone than Geneviève remembered that she had that day + discovered a budding leaf upon one of the rose bushes in the garden below. + Andrea naturally caused an argument by asserting that she was the victim + of her fancy, as it was by far too early in the year. By that means these + two found the plea they sought for quitting us, since neither could rest + until the other was convinced. + </p> + <p> + So down they went into that rose garden which methought was like to prove + their fool's paradise, and Yvonne and I were left alone. Then she also + rose, but as she was on the point of quitting me: + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” I ventured, “will you honour me by remaining for a moment? + There is something that I would say to you.” + </p> + <p> + With raised eyebrows she gave me a glance mingled with that + superciliousness which she was for ever bestowing upon me, and which, from + the monotony of it alone, grew irksome. + </p> + <p> + “What can you have to say to me, M. de Luynes?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you not be seated? I shall not long detain you, nevertheless—” + </p> + <p> + “If I stand, perchance you will be more brief. I am waiting, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + I shrugged my shoulders rudely. Why, indeed, be courteous where so little + courtesy was met with? + </p> + <p> + “A little while ago, Mademoiselle, when M. de Mancini dubbed me a wizard + you were good enough to sneer. Now, a sneer, Mademoiselle, implies + unbelief, and I would convince you that you were wrong to disbelieve.” + </p> + <p> + “If you have no other motive for detaining me, suffer me to depart,” she + interrupted with some warmth. “Whether you be a wizard or not is of no + moment to me.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet I dare swear that you will be of a different mind within five + minutes. A wizard is one who discloses things unknown to his fellow-men. I + am about to convince you that I can do this, and by convincing you I am + about to serve you.” + </p> + <p> + “I seek neither conviction nor service at your hands,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Your courtesy dumfounds me, Mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + “No less than does your insolence dumfound me,” she retorted, with crimson + cheeks. “Do you forget, sir, that I know you for what you are—a + gamester, a libertine, a duellist, the murderer of my brother?” + </p> + <p> + “That your brother lives, Mademoiselle, is, methinks, sufficient proof + that I have not murdered him.” + </p> + <p> + “You willed his death if you did not encompass it; so 't is all one. Do + you not understand that it is because my father receives you here, thanks + to M. de Mancini, your friend—a friendship easily understood from + the advantages you must derive from it—that I consent to endure your + presence and the insult of your glance? Is it not enough that I should do + this, and have you not wit enough to discern it, without adding to my + shame by your insolent call upon my courtesy?” + </p> + <p> + Her words cut me as no words that I ever heard, and, more than her words, + her tone of loathing and disgust unspeakable. For half that speech I + should have killed a man—indeed, I had killed men for less than + half. And yet, for all the passion that raged in my soul, I preserved upon + my countenance a smiling mask. That smile exhausted her patience and + increased her loathing, for with a contemptuous exclamation she turned + away. + </p> + <p> + “Tarry but a moment, Mademoiselle,” I cried, with a sudden note of + command. “Or, if you will go, go then; but take with you my assurance that + before nightfall you will weep bitterly for it.” + </p> + <p> + My words arrested her. The mystery of them awakened her curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “You speak in riddles, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Like a true wizard, Mademoiselle. You received a letter this morning in a + handwriting unknown, and bearing no signature.” + </p> + <p> + She wheeled round and faced me again with a little gasp of astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “How know you that? Ah! I understand; you wrote it!” + </p> + <p> + “What shrewdness, Mademoiselle!” I laughed, ironically. “Come; think + again. What need have I to bid you meet me in the coppice yonder? May I + not speak freely with you here?” + </p> + <p> + “You know the purport of that letter?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, Mademoiselle, and I know more. I know that this hinted conspiracy + against your father is a trumped-up lie to lure you to the coppice.” + </p> + <p> + “And for what purpose, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “An evil one,—your abduction. Shall I tell you who penned that note, + and who awaits you? The Marquis César de St. Auban.” + </p> + <p> + She shuddered as I pronounced the name, then, looking me straight between + the eyes—“How come you to know these things?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “What does it signify, since I know them?” + </p> + <p> + “This, Monsieur, that unless I learn how, I can attach no credit to your + preposterous story.” + </p> + <p> + “Not credit it!” I cried. “Let me assure you that I have spoken the truth; + let me swear it. Go to the coppice at the appointed time, and things will + fall out as I have predicted.” + </p> + <p> + “Again, Monsieur, how know you this?” she persisted, as women will. + </p> + <p> + “I may not tell you.” + </p> + <p> + We stood close together, and her clear grey eyes met mine, her lip curling + in disdain. + </p> + <p> + “You may not tell me? You need not. I can guess.” And she tossed her + shapely head and laughed. “Seek some likelier story, Monsieur. Had you not + spoken of it, 't is likely I should have left the letter unheeded. But + your disinterested warning has determined me to go to this rendezvous. + Shall I tell you what I have guessed? That this conspiracy against my + father, the details of which you would not have me learn, is some evil of + your own devising. Ah! You change colour!” she cried, pointing to my face. + Then with a laugh of disdain she left me before I had sufficiently + recovered from my amazement to bid her stay. + </p> + <p> + “Ciel!” I cried, as I watched the tall, lissom figure vanish through the + portals of the château. “Did ever God create so crass and obstinate a + thing as woman?” + </p> + <p> + It occurred to me to tell Andrea, and bid him warn her. But then she would + guess that I had prompted him. Naught remained but to lay the matter + before the Chevalier de Canaples. Already I had informed him of my fracas + with St. Auban, and of the duel that was to be fought that night, and he, + in his turn, had given me the details of his stormy interview with the + Marquis, which had culminated in St. Auban's dismissal from Canaples. I + had not hitherto deemed it necessary to alarm him with the news imparted + to me by Malpertuis, imagining that did I inform Mademoiselle that would + suffice. + </p> + <p> + Now, however, as I have said, no other course was left me but to tell him + of it. Accordingly, I went within and inquired of Guilbert, whom I met in + the hall, where I might find the Chevalier. He answered me that M. de + Canaples was not in the château. It was believed that he had gone with M. + Louis, the intendant of the estates, to visit the vineyards at Montcroix. + </p> + <p> + The news made me choke with impatience. Already it was close upon five + o'clock, and in another hour the sun would set and the Angelus would toll + the knell of Mademoiselle's preposterous suspicions, unless in the + meantime I had speech with Canaples, and led him to employ a father's + authority to keep his daughter indoors. + </p> + <p> + Fuming at the contretemps I called for my horse and set out at a brisk + trot for Montcroix. But my ride was fruitless. The vineyard peasants had + not seen the Chevalier for over a week. + </p> + <p> + Now, 'twixt Montcroix and the château there lies a good league, and to + make matters worse, as I galloped furiously back to Canaples, an evil + chance led me to mistake the way and pursue a track that brought me out on + the very banks of the river, with a strong belt of trees screening the + château from sight, and defying me to repair my error by going straight + ahead. + </p> + <p> + I was forced to retrace my steps, and before I had regained the point + where I had gone astray a precious quarter of an hour was wasted, and the + sun already hung, a dull red globe, on the brink of the horizon. + </p> + <p> + Clenching my teeth, I tore at my horse's flanks, and with a bloody heel I + drove the maddened brute along at a pace that might have cost us both + dearly. I dashed, at last, into the quadrangle, and, throwing the reins to + a gaping groom, I sprang up the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Has the Chevalier returned?” I gasped breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet, Monsieur,” answered Guilbert with a tranquillity that made me + desire to strangle him. “Is Mademoiselle in the château?” was my next + question, mechanically asked. + </p> + <p> + “I saw her on the terrace some moments ago. She has not since come + within.” + </p> + <p> + Like one possessed I flew across the intervening room and out on to the + terrace. Geneviève and Andrea were walking there, deep in conversation. At + another time I might have cursed their lack of prudence. At the moment I + did not so much as remark it. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Mademoiselle de Canaples?” I burst out. + </p> + <p> + They gazed at me, as much astounded by my question and the abruptness of + it as by my apparent agitation. + </p> + <p> + “Has anything happened?” inquired Geneviève, her blue eyes wide open. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—no; naught has happened. Tell me where she is. I must speak to + her.” + </p> + <p> + “She was here a while ago,” said Andrea, “but she left us to stroll along + the river bank.” + </p> + <p> + “How long is it since she left you?” + </p> + <p> + “A quarter of an hour, perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “Something has happened!” cried Geneviève, and added more, maybe, but I + waited not to hear. + </p> + <p> + Muttering curses as I ran—for 't was my way to curse where pious + souls might pray—I sped back to the quadrangle and my horse. + </p> + <p> + “Follow me,” I shouted to the groom, “you and as many of your fellows as + you can find. Follow me at once—at once, mark you—to the + coppice by the river.” And without waiting for his answer, I sent my horse + thundering down the avenue. The sun was gone, leaving naught but a roseate + streak to tell of its passage, and at that moment a distant bell tinkled + forth the Angelus. + </p> + <p> + With whip, spur, and imprecations I plied my steed, a prey to such + excitement as I had never known until that moment—not even in the + carnage of battle. + </p> + <p> + I had no plan. My mind was a chaos of thought without a single clear idea + to light it, and I never so much as bethought me that single-handled I was + about to attempt to wrest Yvonne from the hands of perchance half a dozen + men. To save time I did not far pursue the road, but, clearing a hedge, I + galloped ventre-à-terre across the meadow towards the little coppice by + the waterside. As I rode I saw no sign of any moving thing. No sound + disturbed the evening stillness save the dull thump of my horse's hoofs + upon the turf, and a great fear arose in my heart that I might come too + late. + </p> + <p> + At last I reached the belt of trees, and my fears grew into certainty. The + place was deserted. + </p> + <p> + Then a fresh hope sprang up. Perchance, thinking of my warning, she had + seen the emptiness of her suspicions towards me, and had pursued that walk + of hers in another direction. + </p> + <p> + But when I had penetrated to the little open space within that cluster of + naked trees, I had proof overwhelming that the worst had befallen. Not + only on the moist ground was stamped the impress of struggling feet, but + on a branch I found a strip of torn green velvet, and, remembering the + dress she had worn that day, I understood to the full the significance of + that rag, and, understanding it, I groaned aloud. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. THE RESCUE + </h2> + <p> + Some precious moments did I waste standing with that green rag betwixt my + fingers, and I grew sick and numb in body and in mind. She was gone! + Carried off by a man I had reason to believe she hated, and whom God send + she might have no motive to hate more deeply hereafter! + </p> + <p> + The ugly thought swelled until it blotted out all others, and in its train + there came a fury upon me that drove me to do by instinct that which + earlier I should have done by reason. I climbed back into the saddle, and + away across the meadow I went, journeying at an angle with the road, my + horse's head turned in the direction of Blois. That road at last was + gained, and on I thundered at a stretched gallop, praying that my + hard-used beast might last until the town was reached. + </p> + <p> + Now, as I have already said, I am not a man who easily falls a prey to + excitement. It may have beset me in the heat of battle, when the fearsome + lust of blood and death makes of every man a raving maniac, thrilled with + mad joy at every stab he deals, and laughing with fierce passion at every + blow he takes, though in the taking of it his course be run. But, saving + at such wild times, never until then could I recall having been so little + master of myself. There was a fever in me; all hell was in my blood, and, + stranger still, and hitherto unknown at any season, there was a sickly + fear that mastered me, and drew out great beads of sweat upon my brow. + Fear for myself I have never known, for at no time has life so pampered me + that the thought of parting company with it concerned me greatly. Fear for + another I had not known till then—saving perchance the uneasiness + that at times I had felt touching Andrea—because never yet had I + sufficiently cared. + </p> + <p> + Thus far my thoughts took me, as I rode, and where I have halted did they + halt, and stupidly I went over their ground again, like one who gropes for + something in the dark,—because never yet had I sufficiently cared—I + had never cared. + </p> + <p> + And then, ah Dieu! As I turned the thought over I understood, and, + understanding, I pursued the sentence where I had left off. + </p> + <p> + But, caring at last, I was sick with fear of what might befall the one I + cared for! There lay the reason of the frenzied excitement whereof I had + become the slave. That it was that had brought the moisture to my brow and + curses to my lips; that it was that had caused me instinctively to thrust + the rag of green velvet within my doublet. + </p> + <p> + Ciel! It was strange—aye, monstrous strange, and a right good jest + for fate to laugh at—that I, Gaston de Luynes, vile ruffler and + worthless spadassin, should have come to such a pass; I, whose forefinger + had for the past ten years uptilted the chin of every tavern wench I had + chanced upon; I, whose lips had never known the touch of other than the + lips of these; I, who had thought my heart long dead to tenderness and + devotion, or to any fondness save the animal one for my ignoble self. Yet + there I rode as if the Devil had me for a quarry,—panting, sweating, + cursing, and well-nigh sobbing with rage at a fear that I might come too + late,—all because of a proud lady who knew me for what I was and + held me in contempt because of her knowledge; all for a lady who had not + the kindness for me that one might spare a dog—who looked on me as + something not good to see. + </p> + <p> + Since there was no one to whom I might tell my story that he might mock + me, I mocked myself—with a laugh that startled passers-by and which, + coupled with the crazy pace at which I dashed into Blois, caused them, I + doubt not, to think me mad. Nor were they wrong, for mad indeed I deemed + myself. + </p> + <p> + That I trampled no one underfoot in my furious progress through the + streets is a miracle that passes my understanding. + </p> + <p> + In the courtyard of the Lys de France I drew rein at last with a tug that + brought my shuddering brute on to his haunches and sent those who stood + about flying into the shelter of the doorways. + </p> + <p> + “Another horse!” I shouted as I sprang to the ground. “Another horse at + once!” + </p> + <p> + Then as I turned to inquire for Michelot, I espied him leaning stolidly + against the portecochère. + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been there, Michelot?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Half an hour, mayhap.” + </p> + <p> + “Saw you a closed carriage pass?” + </p> + <p> + “Ten minutes ago I saw one go by, followed by M. de St. Auban and a + gentleman who greatly resembled M. de Vilmorin, besides an escort of four + of the most villainous knaves—” + </p> + <p> + “That is the one,” I broke in. “Quick, Michelot! Arm yourself and get your + horse; I have need of you. Come, knave, move yourself!” + </p> + <p> + At the end of a few minutes we set out at a sharp trot, leaving the + curious ones whom my loud-voiced commands had assembled, to speculate upon + the meaning of so much bustle. Once clear of the township we gave the + reins to our horses, and our trot became a gallop as we travelled along + the road to Meung, with the Loire on our right. And as we went I briefly + told Michelot what was afoot, interlarding my explanations with prayers + that we might come upon the kidnappers before they crossed the river, and + curses at the flying pace of our mounts, which to my anxious mind seemed + slow. + </p> + <p> + At about a mile from Blois the road runs over an undulation of the ground + that is almost a hill. From the moment that I had left Canaples as the + Angelus was ringing, until the moment when our panting horses gained the + brow of that little eminence, only half an hour had sped. Still in that + half-hour the tints had all but faded from the sky, and the twilight + shadows grew thicker around us with every moment. Yet not so thick had + they become but that I could see a coach at a standstill in the hollow, + some three hundred yards beneath us, and, by it, half a dozen horses, of + which four were riderless and held by the two men who were still mounted. + Then, breathlessly scanning the field between the road and the river, I + espied five persons, half way across, and at the same distance from the + water that we were from the coach. Two men, whom I supposed to be St. + Auban and Vilmorin, were forcing along a woman, whose struggles, feeble + though they appeared—yet retarded their progress in some measure. + Behind them walked two others, musket on shoulder. + </p> + <p> + I pointed them out to Michelot with a soft cry of joy. We were in time! + </p> + <p> + Following with my eyes the course they appeared to be pursuing I saw by + the bank a boat, in which two men were waiting. Again I pointed, this time + to the boat. + </p> + <p> + “Over the hedge, Michelot!” I cried. “We must ride in a straight line for + the water and so intercept them. Follow me.” + </p> + <p> + Over the hedge we went, and down the gentle slope at as round a pace as + the soft ground would with safety allow. I had reckoned upon being opposed + to six or even eight men, whereas there were but four, one of whom I knew + was hardly to be reckoned. Doubtless St. Auban had imagined himself safe + from pursuit when he left two of his bravos with the horses, probably to + take them on to Meung, and there cross with them and rejoin him. Two more, + I doubted not, were those seated at the oars. + </p> + <p> + I laughed to myself as I took in all this, but, even as I laughed, those + in the field stood still, and sent up a shout that told me we had been + perceived. + </p> + <p> + “On, Michelot, on!” I shouted, spurring my horse forward. Then, in answer + to their master's call, the two ruffians who had been doing duty as grooms + came pounding into the field. + </p> + <p> + “Ride to meet them, Michelot!” I cried. Obediently he wheeled to the left, + and I caught the swish of his sword as it left the scabbard. + </p> + <p> + St. Auban was now hurrying towards the river with his party. Already they + were but fifty yards from the boat, and a hundred still lay between him + and me. Furiously I pressed onward, and presently but half the distance + separated us, whilst they were still some thirty yards from their goal. + </p> + <p> + Then his two bravos faced round to meet me, and one, standing some fifty + paces in advance of the other, levelled his musket and fired. But in his + haste he aimed too high; the bullet carried away my hat, and before the + smoke had cleared I was upon him. I had drawn a pistol from my holster, + but it was not needed; my horse passed over him before he could save + himself from my fearful charge. + </p> + <p> + In the fast-fading light a second musket barrel shone, and I saw the + second ruffian taking aim at me with not a dozen yards between us. With + the old soldier's instinct I wrenched at the reins till I brought my horse + on to his haunches. It was high time, for simultaneously with my action + the fellow blazed at me, and the scream of pain that broke from my steed + told me that the poor brute had taken the bullet. With a bound that + carried me forward some six paces, the animal sank, quivering, to the + ground. I disengaged my feet from the stirrups as he fell, but the shock + of it sent me rolling on the ground, and the ruffian, seeing me fallen, + sprang forward, swinging his musket up above his head. I dodged the + murderous downward stroke, and as the stock buried itself close beside me + in the soft earth I rose on one knee and with a grim laugh I raised my + pistol. I brought the muzzle within a hand's breadth of his face, then + fired and shot him through the head. Perchance you'll say it was a + murderous, cruel stroke: mayhap it was, but at such seasons men stay not + to unravel niceties, but strike ere they themselves be stricken. + </p> + <p> + Leaping over the twitching corpse, I got out my sword and sprang after St. + Auban, who, with Vilmorin and Yvonne, careless of what might betide his + followers, was now within ten paces of the boat. + </p> + <p> + Pistol shots cracked behind me, and I wondered how Michelot was faring, + but dared not pause to look. + </p> + <p> + The twain in the boat stood up, wielding their great oars, and methought + them on the point of coming to their master's aid, in which case my battle + had truly been a lost one. But that craven Vilmorin did me good service + then, for with a cry of fear at my approach, he abandoned his hold of + Yvonne, whose struggles were keeping both the men back; thus freed, he + fled towards the boat, and jumping in, he shouted to the men in his + shrill, quavering voice, to put off. Albeit they disobeyed him + contemptuously and waited for the Marquis; still they did not leave the + boat, fearing, no doubt, that if they did so the coward would put off + alone. + </p> + <p> + As for St. Auban, Vilmorin's flight left him unequal to the task of + dragging the girl along. She dug her heels into the ground, and, tug as he + might, for all that he set both hands to work, he could not move her. In + this plight I came upon him, and challenged him to stand and face me. + </p> + <p> + With a bunch of oaths he got out his sword, but in doing so he was forced + to remove one of his hands from the girl's arm. Seizing the opportunity + with a ready wit and courage seldom found in women of her quality, she + twisted herself from the grip of his left hand, and came staggering + towards me for protection, holding up her pinioned wrists. With my blade I + severed the cord, whereupon she plucked the gag from her mouth, and sank + against my side, her struggles having left her weak indeed. + </p> + <p> + As I set my arm about her waist to support her, my heart seemed to swell + within me, and strange melodies shaped themselves within my soul. + </p> + <p> + St. Auban bore down upon me with a raucous oath, but the glittering point + of my rapier danced before his eyes and drove him back again. + </p> + <p> + “To me, Vilmorin, you cowardly cur!” he shouted. “To me, you dogs!” + </p> + <p> + He let fly at them a volley of blood-curdling oaths, then, without waiting + to see if they obeyed him, he came at me again, and our swords met. + </p> + <p> + “Courage, Mademoiselle,” I whispered, as a sigh that was almost a groan + escaped her. “Have no fear.” + </p> + <p> + But that fight was not destined to be fought, for, as again we engaged, + there came the fall of running feet behind me. It flashed across my mind + that Michelot had been worsted, and that my back was about to be assailed. + But in St. Auban's face I saw, as in a mirror, that he who came was + Michelot. + </p> + <p> + “Mort de Christ!” snarled the Marquis, springing back beyond my reach. + “What can a man do with naught but fools and poltroons to serve him? + Faugh! We will continue our sword-play at St. Sulpice des Reaux to-night. + Au revoir, M. de Luynes!” + </p> + <p> + Turning, he sheathed his sword, and, running down to the river, bounded + into the boat, where I heard him reviling Vilmorin with every foul name he + could call to mind. + </p> + <p> + My blood was aflame, and I was not minded to wait for our meeting at + Reaux. Consigning Mademoiselle to the care of Michelot, who stood panting + and bleeding from a wound in his shoulder, I turned back to my dead horse, + and plucking the remaining pistol from the holster I ran down to the very + edge of the water. The boat was not ten yards from shore, and my action + had been unheeded by St. Auban, who was standing in the stern. + </p> + <p> + Kneeling I took careful aim at him, and as God lives, I would have saved + much trouble that was to follow had I been allowed to fire. But at that + moment a hand was laid upon my arm, and Yvonne's sweet voice murmured in + my ear: + </p> + <p> + “You have fought a brave and gallant fight, M. de Luynes, and you have + done a deed of which the knights of old might have been proud. Do not mar + it by an act of murder.” + </p> + <p> + “Murder, Mademoiselle!” I gasped, letting my hand fall. “Surely there is + no murder in this!” + </p> + <p> + “A suspicion of it, I think, and so brave a man should have clean hands.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. THE HAND OF YVONNE + </h2> + <p> + We did not long remain upon the field of battle. Indeed, if we lingered at + all it was but so that Mademoiselle might bandage Michelot's wound. And + whilst she did so, my stout henchman related to us how it had fared with + him, and how, having taken the two ruffians separately, he had been + wounded by the first, whom he repaid by splitting his skull, whereupon the + second one had discharged his pistol without effect, then made off towards + the road, whilst Michelot, remembering that I might need assistance, had + let him go. + </p> + <p> + “There, good Michelot,” quoth Mademoiselle, completing her task, “I have + done what little I can. And now, M. de Luynes, let us go.” + </p> + <p> + It was close upon seven o'clock, and night was at hand. Already the moon + was showing her large, full face above the tree-tops by Chambord, and + casting a silver streak athwart the stream. The plash of oars from the + Marquis's boat was waxing indistinct despite the stillness, whilst by the + eye the boat itself was no longer to be distinguished. + </p> + <p> + As I turned, my glance fell upon the bravo whom I had shot. He lay stiff + and stark upon his back, his sightless eyes wide open and staring + heavenwards, his face all blood-smeared and ghastly to behold. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle shuddered. “Let us go,” she repeated in a faint whisper; her + eye had also fallen on that thing, and her voice was full of awe. She laid + her hand upon my sleeve and 'neath the suasion of her touch I moved away. + </p> + <p> + To our surprise and joy we found St. Auban's coach where we had left it, + with two saddled horses tethered close by. The others had doubtless been + taken by the coachman and the bravo who had escaped Michelot, both of whom + had fled. These animals we looked upon as the spoils of war, and + accordingly when we set out in the coach,—Mademoiselle having + desired me to ride beside her therein,—Michelot wielding the reins, + it was with those two horses tethered behind. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Luynes,” said my companion softly, “I fear that I have done + you a great injustice. Indeed, I know not how to crave your forgiveness, + how to thank you, or how to hide my shame at those words I spoke to you + this afternoon at Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “Not another word on that score, Mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + And to myself I thought of what recompense already had been mine. To me it + had been given to have her lean trustingly upon me, my arm about her + waist, whilst, sword in hand, I had fought for her. Dieu! Was that not + something to have lived for?—aye, and to have died for, methought. + </p> + <p> + “I deserved, Monsieur,” she continued presently, “that you should have + left me to my fate for all the odious things I uttered when you warned me + of my peril,—for the manner in which I have treated you since your + coming to Blois.” + </p> + <p> + “You have but treated me, Mademoiselle, in the only manner in which you + could treat one so far beneath you, one who is utterly unworthy that you + should bestow a single regret upon him.” + </p> + <p> + “You are strangely humble to-night, Monsieur. It is unwonted in you, and + for once you wrong yourself. You have not said that I am forgiven.” + </p> + <p> + “I have naught to forgive.” + </p> + <p> + “Hélas! you have—indeed you have!” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, bien!” quoth I, with a return of my old tone of banter, “I forgive + then.” + </p> + <p> + Thereafter we travelled on in silence for some little while, my heart full + of joy at being so near to her, and the friendliness which she evinced for + me, and my mind casting o'er my joyous heart a cloud of some indefinable + evil presage. + </p> + <p> + “You are a brave man, M. de Luynes,” she murmured presently, “and I have + been taught that brave men are ever honourable and true.” + </p> + <p> + “Had they who taught you that known Gaston de Luynes, they would have told + you instead that it is possible for a vile man to have the one redeeming + virtue of courage, even as it is possible for a liar to have a countenance + that is sweet and innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “There speaks that humble mood you are affecting, and which sits upon you + as my father's clothes might do. Nay, Monsieur, I shall believe in my + first teaching, and be deaf to yours.” + </p> + <p> + Again there was a spell of silence. At last—“I have been thinking, + Monsieur,” she said, “of that other occasion on which you rode with me. I + remember that you said you had killed a man, and when I asked you why, you + said that you had done it because he sought to kill you. Was that the + truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly, Mademoiselle. We fought a duel, and it is customary in a duel + for each to seek to kill the other.” + </p> + <p> + “But why was this duel fought?” she cried, with some petulance. + </p> + <p> + “I fear me, Mademoiselle, that I may not answer you,” I said, recalling + the exact motives, and thinking how futile appeared the quarrel which + Eugène de Canaples had sought with Andrea when viewed in the light of what + had since befallen. + </p> + <p> + “Was the quarrel of your seeking?” + </p> + <p> + “In a measure it was, Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “In a measure!” she echoed. Then persisting, as women will—“Will you + not tell me what this measure was?” + </p> + <p> + “Tenez, Mademoiselle,” I answered in despair; “I will tell you just so + much as I may. Your brother had occasion to be opposed to certain projects + that were being formed in Paris by persons high in power around a + beardless boy. Himself of too small importance to dare wage war against + those powerful ones who would have crushed him, your brother sought to + gain his ends by sending a challenge to this boy. The lad was + high-spirited and consented to meet M. de Canaples, by whom he would + assuredly have been murdered—'t is the only word, Mademoiselle—had + I not intervened as I did.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a moment. Then—“I believe you, Monsieur,” she + said simply. “You fought, then, to shield another—but why?” + </p> + <p> + “For three reasons, Mademoiselle. Firstly, those persons high in power + chose to think it my fault that the quarrel had arisen, and threatened to + hang me if the duel took place and the boy were harmed. Secondly, I myself + felt a kindness for the boy. Thirdly, because, whatever sins Heaven may + record against me, it has at least ever been my way to side against men + who, confident of their superiority, seek, with the cowardly courage of + the strong, to harm the weak. It is, Mademoiselle, the courage of the man + who knows no fear when he strikes a woman, yet who will shake with a palsy + when another man but threatens him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not tell me all this before?” she whispered, after a pause. + And methought I caught a quaver in her voice. + </p> + <p> + I laughed for answer, and she read my laugh aright; presently she pursued + her questions and asked me the name of the boy I had defended. But I + evaded her, telling her that she must need no further details to believe + me. + </p> + <p> + “It is not that, Monsieur! I do believe you; I do indeed, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Hark, Mademoiselle!” I cried suddenly, as the clatter of many hoofs + sounded near at hand. “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + A shout rang out at that moment. “Halt! Who goes there?” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu!” exclaimed Mademoiselle, drawing close up to me, and again the + voice sounded, this time more sinister. + </p> + <p> + “Halt, I say—in the King's name!” + </p> + <p> + The coach came to a standstill, and through the window I beheld the + shadowy forms of several mounted men, and the feeble glare of a lantern. + </p> + <p> + “Who travels in the carriage, knave?” came the voice again. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle de Canaples,” answered Michelot; then, like a fool, he must + needs add: “Have a care whom you knave, my master, if you would grow old.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu! let us behold this Mademoiselle de Canaples who owns so fearful + a warrior for a coachman.” + </p> + <p> + The door was flung rudely open, and the man bearing the lantern—whose + rays shone upon a uniform of the Cardinal's guards—confronted us. + </p> + <p> + With a chuckle he flashed the light in my face, then suddenly grew + serious. + </p> + <p> + “Peste! Is it indeed you, M. de Luynes?” quoth he; adding, with stern + politeness, “It grieves me to disturb you, but I have a warrant for your + arrest.” + </p> + <p> + He was fumbling in his doublet as he spoke, and during the time I had + leisure to scan his countenance, recognising, to my surprise, a young + lieutenant of the guards who had but recently served with me, and with + whom I had been on terms almost of friendship. His words, “I have a + warrant for your arrest,” came like a bolt from the blue to enlighten me, + and to remind me of what St. Auban had that morning told me, and which for + the nonce I had all but forgotten. + </p> + <p> + Upon hearing those same words, Yvonne, methought, grew pale, and her eyes + were bent upon me with a look of surprise and pity. + </p> + <p> + “Upon what charge am I arrested?” I enquired, with forced composure. + </p> + <p> + “My warrant mentions none, M. de Luynes. It is here.” And he thrust before + me a paper, whose purport I could have read in its shape and seals. Idly + my eye ran along the words: + </p> + <p> + “By these presents I charge and empower my lieutenant, Jean de Montrésor, + to seize where'er he may be found, hold, and conduct to Paris the Sieur + Gaston de Luynes—” + </p> + <p> + And so further, until the Cardinal's signature ended the legal verbiage. + </p> + <p> + “In the King's name, M. de Luynes,” said Montrésor, firmly yet + deferentially, “your sword!” + </p> + <p> + It would have been madness to do aught but comply with his request, and so + I surrendered my rapier, which he in his turn delivered to one of his + followers. Next I stepped down from the coach and turned to take leave of + Mademoiselle, whereupon Montrésor, thinking that peradventure matters were + as they appeared to be between us, and, being a man of fine feelings, + signed to his men to fall back, whilst he himself withdrew a few paces. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, Mademoiselle!” I said simply. “I shall carry with me for + consolation the memory that I have been of service to you, and I shall + ever—during the little time that may be left me—be grateful to + Heaven for the opportunity that it has afforded me of causing you—perchance + without sufficient reason—to think better of me. Adieu, + Mademoiselle! God guard you!” + </p> + <p> + It was too dark to see her face, but my heart bounded with joy to catch in + her voice a quaver that argued, methought, regret for me. + </p> + <p> + “What does it mean, M. de Luynes? Why are they taking you?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have displeased my Lord Cardinal, albeit, Mademoiselle, I swear + to you that I have no cause for shame at the reasons for which I am being + arrested.” + </p> + <p> + “My father is Monseigneur de Mazarin's friend,” she cried. “He is also + yours. He shall exert for you what influence he possesses.” + </p> + <p> + “'T were useless, Mademoiselle. Besides, what does it signify? Again, + adieu!” + </p> + <p> + She spoke no answering word, but silently held out her hand. Silently I + took it in mine, and for a moment I hesitated, thinking of what I was—of + what she was. At last, moved by some power that was greater than my will, + I stooped and pressed those shapely fingers to my lips. Then I stepped + suddenly back and closed the carriage door, oppressed by a feeling akin to + that of having done an evil deed. + </p> + <p> + “Have I your permission to say a word to my servant, M. le Lieutenant?” I + inquired. + </p> + <p> + He bowed assent, whereat, stepping close up to the horror-stricken + Michelot— + </p> + <p> + “Drive straight to the Château de Canaples,” I said in a low voice. + “Thereafter return to the Lys de France and there wait until you hear from + me. Here, take my purse; there are some fifty pistoles in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak but the word, Monsieur,” he growled, “and I'll pistol a couple of + these dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “Pah! You grow childish,” I laughed, “or can you not see that fellow's + musket?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu! I'll risk his aim! I never yet saw one of these curs shoot + straight.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, obey me, Michelot. Think of Mademoiselle. Go! Adieu! If we should + not meet again, mon brave,” I finished, as I seized his loyal hand, “what + few things of mine are at the hostelry shall belong to you, as well as + what may be left of this money. It is little enough payment, Michelot, for + all your faithfulness—” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, Monsieur!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Diable!” I muttered, “we are becoming women! Be off, you knave! Adieu!” + </p> + <p> + The peremptoriness of my tone ended our leave-taking and caused him to + grip his reins and bring down his whip. The coach moved on. A white face, + on which the moonlight fell, glanced at me from the window, then to my + staring eyes naught was left but the back of the retreating vehicle, with + one of the two saddle-horses that had been tethered to it still ambling in + its wake. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Montrésor,” I said, thrusting my bullet-pierced hat upon my head, + “I am at your service.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. OF WHAT BEFELL AT REAUX. + </h2> + <p> + At my captor's bidding I mounted the horse which they had untethered from + the carriage, and we started off along the road which the coach itself had + disappeared upon a moment before. But we travelled at a gentle trot, + which, after that evening's furious riding, was welcome to me. + </p> + <p> + With bitterness I reflected as I rode that the very moment at which + Mademoiselle de Canaples had brought herself to think better of me was + like to prove the last we should spend together. Yet not altogether bitter + was that reflection; for with it came also the consolation—whereof I + had told her—that I had not been taken before she had had cause to + change her mind concerning me. + </p> + <p> + That she should care for me was too preposterous an idea to be nourished, + and, indeed, it was better—much better—that M. de Montrésor + had come before I, grown sanguine as lovers will, had again earned her + scorn by showing her what my heart contained. Much better was it that I + should pass for ever out of her life—as, indeed, methought I was + like to pass out of all life—whilst I could leave in her mind a kind + remembrance and a grateful regret, free from the stain that a subsequent + possible presumption of mine might have cast o'er it. + </p> + <p> + Then my thoughts shifted to Andrea. St. Auban would hear of my removal, + and I cared not to think of what profit he might derive from it. To Yvonne + also his presence must hereafter be a menace, and in that wherein tonight + he had failed, he might, again, succeed. It was at this juncture of my + reverie that M. de Montrésor's pleasant young voice aroused me. + </p> + <p> + “You appear downcast, M. de Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + “I, downcast!” I echoed, throwing back my head and laughing. “Nay. I was + but thinking. + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, M. de Luynes,” he said kindly, “when I tell you that it + grieves me to be charged with this matter. I have done my best to capture + you. That was my duty. But I should have rejoiced had I failed with the + consciousness of having done all in my power.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Montrésor,” I murmured, and silence followed. + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking, Monsieur,” he went on presently, “that possibly the + absence of your sword causes you discomfort.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Discomfort? It does, most damnably!” + </p> + <p> + “Give me your parole d'honneur that you will attempt no escape, and not + only shall your sword be returned to you, but you shall travel to Paris + with all comfort and dignity.” + </p> + <p> + Now, so amazed was I that I paused to stare at the officer who was young + enough to make such a proposal to a man of my reputation. He turned his + face towards me, and in the moonlight I could make out his questioning + glance. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, bien, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “I am more than grateful to you, M. de Montrésor,” I replied, “and I + freely give you my word of honour to seek no means of eluding you, nor to + avail myself of any that may be presented to me.” + </p> + <p> + I said this loud enough for those behind to hear, so that no surprise was + evinced when the lieutenant bade the man who bore my sword return it to + me. + </p> + <p> + If he who may chance to read these simple pages shall have gathered aught + of my character from their perusal, he will marvel, perchance, that I + should give the lieutenant my parole, instead rather of watching for an + opportunity to—at least—attempt an escape. Preeminent in my + thoughts, however, stood at that moment the necessity to remove St. Auban, + and methought that by acting as I did I saw a way by which, haply, I might + accomplish this. What might thereafter befall me seemed of little moment. + </p> + <p> + “M. de Montrésor,” I said presently, “your kindness impels me to set a + further tax upon your generosity.” + </p> + <p> + “That is, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Bid your men fall back a little, and I will tell you.” + </p> + <p> + He made a sign to his troopers, and when the distance between us had been + sufficiently widened, I began: + </p> + <p> + “There is a man at present across the river, yonder, who has done me no + little injury, and with whom I have a rendezvous at nine o'clock to-night + at St. Sulpice des Reaux, where our swords are to determine the difference + between us. I crave, Monsieur, your permission to keep that appointment.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” he answered curtly. + </p> + <p> + I took a deep breath like a man who is about to jump an obstacle in his + path. + </p> + <p> + “Why impossible, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you are a prisoner, and therefore no longer under obligation to + keep appointments.” + </p> + <p> + “How would you feel, Montrésor, if, burning to be avenged upon a man who + had done you irreparable wrong, you were arrested an hour before the time + at which you were to meet this man, sword in hand, and your captor—whose + leave you craved to keep the assignation—answered you with the word + 'impossible'?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Monsieur,” he replied impatiently. “But you forget my position. + Let us suppose that I allow you to go to St. Sulpice des Reaux. What if + you do not return?” + </p> + <p> + “You mistrust me?” I exclaimed, my hopes melting. + </p> + <p> + “You misapprehend me. I mean, what if you are killed?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think that I shall be.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! But what if you are? What shall I say to my Lord Cardinal?” + </p> + <p> + “Dame! That I am dead, and that he is saved the trouble of hanging me. The + most he can want of me is my life. Let us suppose that you had come an + hour later. You would have been forced to wait until after the encounter, + and, did I fall, matters would be no different.” + </p> + <p> + The young man fell to thinking, but I, knowing that it is not well to let + the young ponder overlong if you would bend them to your wishes, broke in + upon his reflections—“See, Montrésor, yonder are the lights of + Blois; by eight o'clock we shall be in the town. Come; grant me leave to + cross the Loire, and by ten o'clock, or half-past at the latest, I shall + return to sup with you or I shall be dead. I swear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Were I in your position,” he answered musingly, “I know how I would be + treated, and, pardieu! come what may I shall deal with you accordingly. + You may go to your assignation, M. de Luynes, and may God prosper you.” + </p> + <p> + And thus it came to pass that shortly after eight o'clock, albeit a + prisoner, I rode into the courtyard of the Lys de France, and, alighting, + I stepped across the threshold of the inn, and strode up to a table at + which I had espied Michelot. He sat nursing a huge measure of wine, into + the depths of which he was gazing pensively, with an expression so glum + upon his weather-beaten countenance that it defies depicting. So deep was + he in his meditations, that albeit I stood by the table surveying him for + a full minute, he took no heed of me. + </p> + <p> + “Allons, Michelot!” I said at length. “Wake up.” + </p> + <p> + He started up with a cry of amazement; surprise chased away the grief that + had been on his face, and a moment later joy unfeigned, and good to see, + took the place of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “You have escaped, Monsieur!” he cried, and albeit caution made him utter + the words beneath his breath, a shout seemed to lurk somewhere in the + whisper. + </p> + <p> + Pressing his hand I sat down and briefly told him how matters stood, and + how I came to be for the moment free. And when I had done I bade him, + since his wound had not proved serious, to get his hat and cloak and go + with me to find a boat. + </p> + <p> + He obeyed me, and a quarter of an hour after we had quitted the hostelry + he was rowing me across the stream, whilst, wrapped in my cloak, I sat in + the stern, thinking of Yvonne. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said Michelot, “observe how swift is the stream. If I were to + let the boat drift we should be at Tours to-morrow, and from there it + would be easy to defy pursuit. We have enough money to reach Spain. What + say you, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Say, you rascal? Why, bend your back to the work and set me ashore by St. + Sulpice in a quarter of an hour, or I'll forget that you have been my + friend. Would you see me dishonoured?” + </p> + <p> + “Sooner than see you dead,” he grumbled as he resumed his task. + Thereafter, whilst he rowed, Michelot entertained me with some quaint + ideas touching that which fine gentlemen call honour, and to what sorry + passes it was wont to bring them, concluding by thanking God that he was + no gentleman and had no honour to lead him into mischief. + </p> + <p> + At last, however, our journey came to an end, and I sprang ashore some + five hundred paces from the little chapel, and almost exactly opposite the + Château de Canaples. I stood for a moment gazing across the water at the + lighted windows of the château, wondering which of those eyes that looked + out upon the night might be that of Yvonne's chamber. + </p> + <p> + Then, bidding Michelot await me, or follow did I not return in half an + hour, I turned and moved away towards the chapel. + </p> + <p> + There is a clearing in front of the little white edifice—which + rather than a temple is but a monument to the martyr who is said to have + perished on that spot in the days before Clovis. + </p> + <p> + As I advanced into the centre of this open patch of ground, and stood + clear of the black silhouettes of the trees, cast about me by the moon, + two men appeared to detach themselves from the side wall of the chapel, + and advanced to meet me. + </p> + <p> + Albeit they were wrapped in their cloaks—uptilted behind by their + protruding scabbards—it was not difficult to tell the tall figure + and stately bearing of St. Auban and the mincing gait of Vilmorin. + </p> + <p> + I doffed my hat in a grave salutation, which was courteously returned. + </p> + <p> + “I trust, Messieurs, that I have not kept you waiting?” + </p> + <p> + “I was on the point of expressing that very hope, Monsieur,” returned St. + Auban. “We have but arrived. Do you come alone?” + </p> + <p> + “As you perceive.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! M. le Vicomte, then, will act for both of us.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed in token of my satisfaction, and without more ado cast aside my + cloak, pleased to see that the affair was to be conducted with decency and + politeness, as such matters should ever be conducted, albeit impoliteness + may have marked their origin. + </p> + <p> + The Marquis, having followed my example and divested himself of his cloak + and hat, unsheathed his rapier and delivered it to Vilmorin, who came + across with it to where I stood. When he was close to me I saw that he was + deadly pale; his teeth chattered, and the hand that held the weapon shook + as with a palsy. + </p> + <p> + “Mu—Monsieur,” he stammered, “will it please you to lend me your + sword that I may mu-measure it?” + </p> + <p> + “What formalities!” I exclaimed with an amused smile, as I complied with + his request. “I am afraid you have caught a chill, Vicomte. The night air + is little suited to health so delicate.” + </p> + <p> + He answered me with a baleful glance, as silently he took my sword and set + it—point to hilt—with St. Auban's. He appeared to have found + some slight difference in the length, for he took two steps away from me, + holding the weapons well in the light, where for a moment he surveyed them + attentively. His hands shook so that the blades clattered one against the + other the while. But, of a sudden, taking both rapiers by the hilt, he + struck the blades together with a ringing clash, then flung them both + behind him as far as he could contrive, leaving me thunderstruck with + amazement, and marvelling whether fear had robbed him of his wits. + </p> + <p> + Not until I perceived that the trees around me appeared to spring into + life did it occur to me that that clashing of blades was a signal, and + that I was trapped. With the realisation of it I was upon Vilmorin in a + bound, and with both hands I had caught the dog by the throat before he + thought of flight. The violence of my onslaught bore him to the ground, + and I, not to release my choking grip, went with him. + </p> + <p> + For a moment we lay together where we had fallen, his slender body + twisting and writhing under me, his swelling face upturned and his + protruding, horror-stricken eyes gazing into mine that were fierce and + pitiless. Voices rang above me; someone stooped and strove to pluck me + from my victim; then below the left shoulder I felt a sting of pain, first + cold then hot, and I knew that I had been stabbed. + </p> + <p> + Again I felt the blade thrust in, lower down and driven deeper; then, as + the knife was for the second time withdrawn, and my flesh sucked at the + steel,—the pain of it sending a shudder through me,—the + instinct of preservation overcame the sweet lust to strangle Vilmorin. I + let him go and, staggering to my feet, I turned to face those murderers + who struck a defenceless man behind. + </p> + <p> + Swords gleamed around me: one, two, three, four, five, six, I counted, and + stood weak and dazed from loss of blood, gazing stupidly at the white + blades. Had I but had my sword I should have laid about me, and gone down + beneath their blows as befits a soldier. But the absence of that trusty + friend left me limp and helpless—cowed for the first time since I + had borne arms. + </p> + <p> + Of a sudden I became aware that St. Auban stood opposite to me, hand on + hip, surveying me with a malicious leer. As our eyes met—“So, master + meddler,” quoth he mockingly, “you crow less lustily than is your wont.” + </p> + <p> + “Hound!” I gasped, choking with rage, “if you are a man, if there be a + spark of pride or honour left in your lying, cowardly soul, order your + assassins to give me my sword, and, wounded though I be, I'll fight with + you this duel that you lured me here to fight.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed harshly. + </p> + <p> + “I told you but this morning, Master de Luynes, that a St. Auban does not + fight men of your stamp. You forced a rendezvous upon me; you shall reap + the consequences.” + </p> + <p> + Despite the weakness arising from loss of blood, I sprang towards him, + beside myself with fury. But ere I had covered half the distance that lay + between us my arms were gripped from behind, and in my spent condition I + was held there, powerless, at the Marquis's mercy. He came slowly forward + until we were but some two feet apart. For a second he stood leering at + me, then, raising his hand, he struck me—struck a man whose arms + another held!—full upon the face. Passion for the moment lent me + strength, and in that moment I had wrenched my right arm free and returned + his blow with interest. + </p> + <p> + With an oath he got out a dagger that hung from his baldrick. + </p> + <p> + “Sang du Christ! Take that, you dog!” he snarled, burying the blade in my + breast as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “My God! You are murdering me!” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Have you discovered it? What penetration!” he retorted, and those about + him laughed at his indecent jest! + </p> + <p> + He made a sign, and the man who had held me withdrew his hands. I + staggered forward, deprived of his support, then a crashing blow took me + across the head. + </p> + <p> + I swayed for an instant, and with arms upheld I clutched at the air, as if + I sought, by hanging to it, to save myself from falling; then the moon + appeared to go dark, a noise as of the sea beating upon its shore filled + my ears, and I seemed to be falling—falling—falling. + </p> + <p> + A voice that buzzed and vibrated oddly, growing more distant at each word, + reached me as I sank. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” it said. “Fling that carrion into the river.” + </p> + <p> + Then nothingness engulfed me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. OF MY RESURRECTION + </h2> + <p> + Even as the blow which had plunged me into senselessness had imparted to + me the sinking sensation which I have feebly endeavoured to depict, so did + the first dim ray of returning consciousness bring with it the feeling + that I was again being buoyed upwards through the thick waters that had + enveloped me, to their surface, where intelligence and wakefulness + awaited. + </p> + <p> + And as I felt myself borne up and up in that effortless ascension, my + senses awake and my reason still half-dormant, an exquisite sense of + languor pervaded my whole being. Presently meseemed that the surface was + gained at last, and an instinct impelled me to open my eyes upon the + light, of which, through closed lids, I had become conscious. + </p> + <p> + I beheld a fair-sized room superbly furnished, and flooded with amber + sunlight suggestive in itself of warmth and luxury, the vision of which + heightened the delicious torpor that held me in thrall. The bed I lay upon + was such, I told myself, as would not have disgraced a royal sleeper. It + was upheld by great pillars of black oak, carved with a score of fantastic + figures, and all around it, descending from the dome above, hung curtains + of rich damask, drawn back at the side that looked upon the window. Near + at hand stood a table laden with phials and such utensils as one sees by + the bedside of the wealthy sick. All this I beheld in a languid, + unreasoning fashion through my half-open lids, and albeit the luxury of + the room and the fine linen of my bed told me that this was neither my + Paris lodging in the Rue St. Antoine, nor yet my chamber at the hostelry + of the Lys de France, still I taxed not my brain with any questions + touching my whereabouts. + </p> + <p> + I closed my eyes, and I must have slept again: when next I opened them a + burly figure stood in the deep bay of the latticed window, looking out + through the leaded panes. + </p> + <p> + I recognised the stalwart frame of Michelot, and at last I asked myself + where I might be. It did not seem to occur to me that I had but to call + him to receive an answer to that question. Instead, I closed my eyes + again, and essayed to think. But just then there came a gentle scratching + at the door, and I could hear Michelot tiptoeing across the room; next he + and the one he had admitted tiptoed back towards my bedside, and as they + came I caught a whisper in a voice that seemed to drag me to full + consciousness. + </p> + <p> + “How fares the poor invalid this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “The fever is gone, Mademoiselle, and he may wake at any moment; indeed, + it is strange that he should sleep so long.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be the better for it when he does awaken. I will remain here + while you rest, Michelot. My poor fellow, you are almost as worn with your + vigils as he is with the fever.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh! I am strong enough, Mademoiselle,” he answered. “I will get a + mouthful of food and return, for I would be by when he wakes.” + </p> + <p> + Then their voices sank so low that as they withdrew I caught not what was + said. The door closed softly and for a space there was silence, broken at + last by a sigh above my head. With an answering sigh I opened wide my eyes + and feasted them upon the lovely face of Yvonne de Canaples, as she bent + over me with a look of tenderness and pity that at once recalled to me our + parting when I was arrested. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly meeting the stare of my gaze, she drew back with a + half-stifled cry, whose meaning my dull wits sought not to interpret, but + methought I caught from her lips the words, “Thank God!” + </p> + <p> + “Where am I, Mademoiselle?” I inquired, and the faintness of my voice + amazed me. + </p> + <p> + “You know me!” she exclaimed, as though the thing were a miracle. Then + coming forward again, and setting her cool, sweet hand upon my forehead, + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” she murmured in the accents one might use to soothe a child. “You + are at Canaples, among friends. Now sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “At Canaples!” I echoed. “How came I here? I am a prisoner, am I not?” + </p> + <p> + “A prisoner!” she exclaimed. “No, no, you are not a prisoner. You are + among friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I then but dream that Montrésor arrested me yesterday on the road to + Meung? Ah! I recollect! M. de Montrésor gave me leave on parole to go to + Reaux.” + </p> + <p> + Then, like an avalanche, remembrance swept down upon me, and my memory + drew a vivid picture of the happenings at St. Sulpice. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” I cried. “Am I not dead, then?” And I sought to struggle up into + a sitting posture, but that gentle hand upon my forehead restrained and + robbed me of all will that was not hers. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Monsieur!” she said softly. “Lie still. By a miracle and the + faithfulness of Michelot you live. Be thankful, be content, and sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “But my wounds, Mademoiselle?” I inquired feebly. + </p> + <p> + “They are healed.” + </p> + <p> + “Healed?” quoth I, and in my amazement my voice sounded louder than it had + yet done since my awakening. “Healed! Three such wounds as I took last + night, to say naught of a broken head, healed?” + </p> + <p> + “'T was not last night, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Not last night? Was it not last night that I went to Reaux?” + </p> + <p> + “It is nearly a month since that took place,” she answered with a smile. + “For nearly a month have you lain unconscious upon that bed, with the + angel of Death at your pillow. You have fought and won a silent battle. + Now sleep, Monsieur, and ask no more questions until next you awaken, when + Michelot shall tell you all that took place.” + </p> + <p> + She held a glass to my lips from which I drank gratefully, then, with the + submissiveness of a babe, I obeyed her and slept. + </p> + <p> + As she had promised, it was Michelot who greeted me when next I opened my + eyes, on the following day. There were tears in his eyes—eyes that + had looked grim and unmoved upon the horrors of the battlefield. + </p> + <p> + From him I learned how, after they had flung me into the river, deeming me + dead already, St. Auban and his men had made off. The swift stream swirled + me along towards the spot where, in the boat, Michelot awaited my return + all unconscious of what was taking place. He had heard the splash, and had + suddenly stood up, on the point of going ashore, when my body rose within + a few feet of him. He spoke of the agony of mind wherewith he had suddenly + stretched forth and clutched me by my doublet, fearing that I was indeed + dead. He had lifted me into the boat to find that my heart still beat and + that the blood flowed from my wounds. These he had there and then bound up + in the only rude fashion he was master of, and forthwith, thinking of + Andrea and the Chevalier de Canaples, who were my friends, and of + Mademoiselle, who was my debtor, also seeing that the château was the + nearest place, he had rowed straight across to Canaples, and there I had + lain during the four weeks that had elapsed, nursed by Mademoiselle, + Andrea, and himself, and thus won back to life. + </p> + <p> + Ah, Dieu! How good it was to know that someone there was still who cared + for worthless Gaston de Luynes a little—enough to watch beside him + and withhold his soul from the grim claws of Death. + </p> + <p> + “What of M. de St. Auban?” I inquired presently. + </p> + <p> + “He has not been seen since that night. Probably he feared that did he + come to Blois, the Chevalier would find means of punishing him for the + attempted abduction of Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, then Andrea is safe?” + </p> + <p> + As if in answer to my question, the lad entered at that moment, and upon + seeing me sitting up, talking to Michelot, he uttered an exclamation of + joy, and hurried forward to my bedside. + </p> + <p> + “Gaston, dear friend!” he cried, as he took my hand—and a thin, + withered hand it was. + </p> + <p> + We talked long together,—we three,—and anon we were joined by + the Chevalier de Canaples, who offered me also, in his hesitating manner, + his felicitations. And with me they lingered until Yvonne came to drive + them with protestations from my bedside. + </p> + <p> + Such, in brief, was the manner of my resurrection. For a week or so I + still kept my chamber; then one day towards the middle of April, the + weather being warm and the sun bright, Michelot assisted me to don my + clothes, which hung strangely empty upon my gaunt, emaciated frame, and, + leaning heavily upon my faithful henchman, I made my way below. + </p> + <p> + In the salon I found the Chevalier de Canaples with Mesdemoiselles and + Andrea awaiting me, and the kindness wherewith they overwhelmed me, as I + sat propped up with pillows, was such that I asked myself again and again + if, indeed, I was that same Gaston de Luynes who but a little while ago + had held himself as destitute of friends as he was of fortune. I was the + pampered hero of the hour, and even little Geneviève had a sunny smile and + a kind word for me. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter my recovery progressed with great strides, and gradually, day + by day, I felt more like my old vigorous self. They were happy days, for + Mademoiselle was often at my side, and ever kind to me; so kind was she + that presently, as my strength grew, there fell a great cloud athwart my + happiness—the thought that soon I must leave Canaples never to + return there,—leave Mademoiselle's presence never to come into it + again. + </p> + <p> + I was Monsieur de Montrésor's prisoner. I had learned that in common with + all others, save those at Canaples, he deemed me dead, and that, informed + of it by a message from St. Auban, he had returned to Paris on the day + following that of my journey to Reaux. Nevertheless, since I lived, he had + my parole, and it was my duty as soon as I had regained sufficient + strength, to journey to Paris and deliver myself into his hands. + </p> + <p> + Nearer and nearer drew the dreaded hour in which I felt that I must leave + Canaples. On the last day of April I essayed a fencing bout with Andrea, + and so strong and supple did I prove myself that I was forced to realise + that the time was come. On the morrow I would go. + </p> + <p> + As I was on the point of returning indoors with the foils under my arm, + Andrea called me back. + </p> + <p> + “Gaston, I have something of importance to say to you. Will you take a + turn with me down yonder by the river?” + </p> + <p> + There was a serious, almost nervous look on his comely face, which + arrested my attention. I dropped the foils, and taking his arm I went with + him as he bade me. We seated ourselves on the grass by the edge of the + gurgling waters, and he began: + </p> + <p> + “It is now two months since we came to Blois: I, to pay my court to the + wealthy Mademoiselle de Canaples; you, to watch over and protect me—nay, + you need not interrupt me. Michelot has told me what St. Auban sought + here, and the true motives of your journey to St. Sulpice. Never shall I + be able to sufficiently prove my gratitude to you, my poor Gaston. But + tell me, dear friend, you who from the outset saw how matters stood, why + did you not inform St. Auban that he had no cause to hunt me down since I + intended not to come between him and Yvonne?” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu!” I exclaimed, “that little fair-haired coquette has—” + </p> + <p> + “Gaston,” he interrupted, “you go too fast. I love Geneviève de Canaples. + I have loved her, I think, since the moment I beheld her in the inn at + Choisy, and, what is more, she loves me.” + </p> + <p> + “So that—?” I asked with an ill-repressed sneer. + </p> + <p> + “We have plighted our troth, and with her father's sanction, or without + it, she will do me the honour to become my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Admirable!” I exclaimed. “And my Lord Cardinal?” + </p> + <p> + “May hang himself on his stole for aught I care.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Truly a dutiful expression for a nephew who has thwarted his uncle's + plans!” + </p> + <p> + “My uncle's plans are like himself, cold and selfish in their ambition.” + </p> + <p> + “Andrea, Andrea! Whatever your uncle may be, to those of your blood, at + least, he was never selfish.” + </p> + <p> + “Not selfish!” he cried. “Think you that he is enriching and contracting + great alliances for us because he loves us? No, no. Our uncle seeks to + gain our support and with it the support of those noble houses to which he + is allying us. The nobility opposes him, therefore he seeks to find + relatives among noblemen, so that he may weather the storm of which his + far-seeing eyes have already detected the first dim clouds. What to him + are my feelings, my inclinations, my affections? Things of no moment, to + be sacrificed so that I may serve him in the manner that will bring him + the most profit. Yet you call him not selfish! Were he not selfish, I + should go to him and say: 'I love Geneviève de Canaples. Create me Duke as + you would do, did I wed her sister, and the Chevalier de Canaples will not + withstand our union.' What think you would be his answer?” + </p> + <p> + “I have a shrewd idea what his answer would be,” I replied slowly. “Also I + have a shrewd idea of what he will say when he learns in what manner you + have defied his wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “He can but order me away from Court, or, at most, banish me from France.” + </p> + <p> + “And then what will become of you—of you and your wife?” + </p> + <p> + “What is to become of us?” he cried in a tone that was almost that of + anger. “Think you that I am a pauper dependent upon my uncle's bounty? I + have an estate near Palermo, which, for all that it does not yield riches, + is yet sufficient to enable us to live with dignity and comfort. I have + told Geneviève, and she is content.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at his flushed face and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” said I. “If you are resolved upon it, it is ended.” + </p> + <p> + He appeared to meditate for a moment, then—“We have decided to be + married by the Curé of St. Innocent on the day after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Crédieu!” I answered, with a whistle, “you have wasted no time in + determining your plans. Does Yvonne know of it?” + </p> + <p> + “We have dared tell nobody,” he replied; and a moment later he added + hesitatingly, “You, I know, will not betray us.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know me so little that you doubt me on that score? Have no fear, + Andrea, I shall not speak. Besides, to-morrow, or the next day at latest, + I leave Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not mean that you are returning to the Lys de France!” + </p> + <p> + “No. I am going farther than that. I am going to Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “To Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “To Paris, to deliver myself up to M. de Montrésor, who gave me leave to + go to Reaux some seven weeks ago.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is madness, Gaston!” he ejaculated. + </p> + <p> + “All virtue is madness in a world so sinful; nevertheless I go. In a + measure I am glad that things have fallen out with you as they have done, + for when the news goes abroad that you have married Geneviève de Canaples + and left the heiress free, your enemies will vanish, and you will have no + further need of me. New enemies you will have perchance, but in your + strife with them I could lend you no help, were I by.” + </p> + <p> + He sat in silence casting pebbles into the stream, and watching the + ripples they made upon the face of the waters. + </p> + <p> + “Have you told Mademoiselle?” he asked at length. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. I shall tell her to-day. You also, Andrea, must take her into + your confidence touching your approaching marriage. That she will prove a + good friend to you I am assured.” + </p> + <p> + “But what reason shall I give form my secrecy?” he inquired, and inwardly + I smiled to see how the selfishness which love begets in us had caused him + already to forget my affairs, and how the thought of his own approaching + union effaced all thought of me and the doom to which I went. + </p> + <p> + “Give no reason,” I answered. “Let Genevieve tell her of what you + contemplate, and if a reason she must have, let Geneviève bid her come to + me. This much will I do for you in the matter; indeed, Andrea, it is the + last service I am like to render you.” + </p> + <p> + “Sh! Here comes the Chevalier. She shall be told to-day.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. THE WAY OF WOMAN + </h2> + <p> + For all that I realised that this love of mine for Yvonne was as a child + still-born—a thing that had no existence save in the heart that had + begotten it—I rejoiced meanly at the thought that she was not + destined to become Andrea's wife. For since I understood that this woman—who + to me was like no other of her sex—was not for so poor a thing as + Gaston de Luynes, like the dog in the fable I wished that no other might + possess her. Inevitable it seemed that sooner or later one must come who + would woo and win her. But ere that befell, my Lord Cardinal would have + meted out justice to me—the justice of the rope meseemed—and I + should not be by to gnash my teeth in jealousy. + </p> + <p> + That evening, when the Chevalier de Canaples had gone to pay a visit to + his vineyard,—the thing that, next to himself, he loved most in this + world,—and whilst Geneviève and Andrea were vowing a deathless love + to each other in the rose garden, their favourite haunt when the Chevalier + was absent, I seized the opportunity for making my adieux to Yvonne. + </p> + <p> + We were leaning together upon the balustrade of the terrace, and our faces + were turned towards the river and the wooded shores beyond—a + landscape this that was as alive and beautiful now as it had been dead and + grey when first I came to Canaples two months ago. + </p> + <p> + Scarce were my first words spoken when she turned towards me, and + methought—but I was mad, I told myself—that there was a catch + in her voice as she exclaimed, “You are leaving us, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow morning I shall crave Monsieur your father's permission to quit + Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + “But why, Monsieur? Have we not made you happy here?” + </p> + <p> + “So happy, Mademoiselle,” I answered with fervour, “that at times it + passes my belief that I am indeed Gaston de Luynes. But go I must. My + honour demands of me this sacrifice.” + </p> + <p> + And in answer to the look of astonishment that filled her wondrous eyes, I + told her what I had told Andrea touching my parole to Montrésor, and the + necessity of its redemption. As Andrea had done, she also dubbed it + madness, but her glance was, nevertheless, so full of admiration, that + methought to have earned it was worth the immolation of liberty—of + life perchance; who could say? + </p> + <p> + “Before I go, Mademoiselle,” I pursued, looking straight before me as I + spoke, and dimly conscious that her glance was bent upon my face—“before + I go, I fain would thank you for all that you have done for me here. Your + care has saved my life, Mademoiselle; your kindness, methinks, has saved + my soul. For it seems to me that I am no longer the same man whom Michelot + fished out of the Loire that night two months ago. I would thank you, + Mademoiselle, for the happiness that has been mine during the past few + days—a happiness such as for years has not fallen to my lot. To + another and worthier man, the task of thanking you might be an easy one; + but to me, who know myself to be so far beneath you, the obligation is so + overwhelming that I know of no words to fitly express it.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, Monsieur, I beseech you! Already you have said overmuch.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Mademoiselle; not half enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you forgotten, then, what you did for me? Our trivial service to you + is but unseemly recompense. What other man would have come to my rescue as + you came, with such odds against you—and forgetting the affronting + words wherewith that very day I had met your warning? Tell me, Monsieur, + who would have done that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, any man who deemed himself a gentleman, and who possessed such + knowledge as I had.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed a laugh of unbelief. + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, sir,” she answered. “The deed was worthy of one of + those preux chevaliers we read of, and I have never known but one man + capable of accomplishing it.” + </p> + <p> + Those words and the tone wherein they were uttered set my brain on fire. I + turned towards her; our glances met, and her eyes—those eyes that + but a while ago had never looked on me without avowing the disdain wherein + she had held me—were now filled with a light of kindliness, of + sympathy, of tenderness that seemed more than I could endure. + </p> + <p> + Already my hand was thrust into the bosom of my doublet, and my fingers + were about to drag forth that little shred of green velvet that I had + found in the coppice on the day of her abduction, and that I had kept ever + since as one keeps the relic of a departed saint. Another moment and I + should have poured out the story of the mad, hopeless passion that filled + my heart to bursting, when of a sudden—“Yvonne, Yvonne!” came + Geneviève's fresh voice from the other end of the terrace. The spell of + that moment was broken. + </p> + <p> + Methought Mademoiselle made a little gesture of impatience as she answered + her sister's call; then, with a word of apology, she left me. + </p> + <p> + Half dazed by the emotions that had made sport of me, I leaned over the + balustrade, and with my elbows on the stone and my chin on my palms, I + stared stupidly before me, thanking God for having sent Geneviève in time + to save me from again earning Mademoiselle's scorn. For as I grew sober I + did not doubt that with scorn she would have met the wild words that + already trembled on my lips. + </p> + <p> + I laughed harshly and aloud, such a laugh as those in Hell may vent. + “Gaston, Gaston!” I muttered, “at thirty-two you are more a fool than ever + you were at twenty.” + </p> + <p> + I told myself then that my fancy had vested her tone and look with a + kindliness far beyond that which they contained, and as I thought of how I + had deemed impatient the little gesture wherewith she had greeted + Geneviève's interruption I laughed again. + </p> + <p> + From the reverie into which, naturally enough, I lapsed, it was + Mademoiselle who aroused me. She stood beside me with an unrest of manner + so unusual in her, that straightway I guessed the substance of her talk + with Geneviève. + </p> + <p> + “So, Mademoiselle,” I said, without waiting for her to speak, “you have + learned what is afoot?” + </p> + <p> + “I have,” she answered. “That they love each other is no news to me. That + they intend to wed does not surprise me. But that they should contemplate + a secret marriage passes my comprehension.” + </p> + <p> + I cleared my throat as men will when about to embark upon a perilous + subject with no starting-point determined. + </p> + <p> + “It is time, Mademoiselle,” I began, “that you should learn the true cause + of M. de Mancini's presence at Canaples. It will enlighten you touching + his motives for a secret wedding. Had things fallen out as was intended by + those who planned his visit—Monsieur your father and my Lord + Cardinal—it is improbable that you would ever have heard that which + it now becomes necessary that I should tell you. I trust, Mademoiselle,” I + continued, “that you will hear me in a neutral spirit, without permitting + your personal feelings to enter into your consideration of that which I + shall unfold.” + </p> + <p> + “So long a preface augurs anything but well,” she interposed, looking + monstrous serious. + </p> + <p> + “Not ill, at least, I hope. Hear me then. Your father and his Eminence are + friends; the one has a daughter who is said to be very wealthy and whom + he, with fond ambition, desires to see wedded to a man who can give her an + illustrious name; the other possesses a nephew whom he can ennoble by the + highest title that a man may bear who is not a prince of the blood,—and + borne indeed by few who are not,—and whom he desires to see contract + an alliance that will bring him enough of riches to enable him to bear his + title with becoming dignity.” I glanced at Mademoiselle, whose cheeks were + growing an ominous red. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mademoiselle,” I continued, “your father and Monseigneur de Mazarin + appear to have bared their heart's desire to each other, and M. de Mancini + was sent to Canaples to woo and win your father's elder daughter.” + </p> + <p> + A long pause followed, during which she stood with face aflame, averted + eyes, and heaving bosom, betraying the feelings that stormed within her at + the disclosure of the bargain whereof she had been a part. At length—“Oh, + Monsieur!” she exclaimed in a choking voice, and clenching her shapely + hands, “to think—” + </p> + <p> + “I beseech you not to think, Mademoiselle,” I interrupted calmly, for, + having taken the first plunge, I was now master of myself. “The ironical + little god, whom the ancients painted with bandaged eyes, has led M. de + Mancini by the nose in this matter, and things have gone awry for the + plotters. There, Mademoiselle, you have the reason for a clandestine + union. Did Monsieur your father guess how Andrea's affections have”—I + caught the word “miscarried” betimes, and substituted—“gone against + his wishes, his opposition is not a thing to be doubted.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure there is no mistake?” she inquired after a pause. “Is all + this really true, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “But how comes it that my father has seen naught of what has been so plain + to me—that M. de Mancini was ever at my sister's side?” + </p> + <p> + “Your father, Mademoiselle, is much engrossed in his vineyard. Moreover, + when the Chevalier has been at hand he has been careful to show no greater + regard for the one than for the other of you. I instructed him in this + duplicity many weeks ago.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Monsieur,” she cried passionately, “how deep is my humiliation! To + think that I was made a part of so vile a bargain! Oh, I am glad that M. + de Mancini has proved above the sordid task to which they set him—glad + that he will dupe the Cardinal and my father.” + </p> + <p> + “So am not I, Mademoiselle,” I exclaimed. She vouchsafed me a stare of + ineffable surprise. + </p> + <p> + “How? + </p> + <p> + “Diable!” I answered. “I am M. de Mancini's friend. It was to shield him + that I fought your brother; again, because of my attitude towards him was + it that I went perilously near assassination at Reaux. Enemies sprang up + about him when the Cardinal's matrimonial projects became known. Your + brother picked a quarrel with him, and when I had dealt with your brother, + St. Auban appeared, and after St. Auban there were others. When it is + known that he has played this trick upon 'Uncle Giulio' his enemies will + disappear; but, on the other hand, his prospects will all be blighted, and + for that I am sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “So that was the motive of your duel with Eugène!” + </p> + <p> + “At last you learn it.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” she added in a curious voice, “you would have been better pleased + had M. de Mancini carried out his uncle's wishes?” + </p> + <p> + “It matters little what I would think, Mademoiselle,” I answered + guardedly, for I could not read that curious tone of hers. + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, I am curious to hear your answer.” + </p> + <p> + What answer could I make? The truth—that for all my fine talk, I was + at heart and in a sense right glad that she was not to become Andrea's + wife—would have seemed ungallant. Moreover, I must have added the + explanation that I desired to see her no man's wife, so that I might not + seem to contradict myself. Therefore— + </p> + <p> + “In truth, Mademoiselle,” I answered, lying glibly, “it would have given + me more pleasure had Andrea chosen to obey his Eminence.” + </p> + <p> + Her manner froze upon the instant. + </p> + <p> + “In the consideration of your friend's advancement,” she replied, half + contemptuously, “you forget, M. de Luynes, to consider me. Am I, then, a + thing to be bartered into the hands of the first fortune-hunter who woos + me because he has been bidden so to do, and who is to marry me for + political purposes? Pshaw, M. de Luynes!” she added, with a scornful + laugh, “after all, I was a fool to expect aught else from—” + </p> + <p> + She checked herself abruptly, and a sudden access of mercy left the + stinging “you” unuttered. I stood by, dumb and sheepish, not understanding + how the words that I had deemed gallant could have brought this tempest + down upon my head. Before I could say aught that might have righted + matters, or perchance made them worse—“Since you leave Canaples + to-morrow,” quoth she, “I will say 'Adieu,' Monsieur, for it is unlikely + that we shall meet again.” + </p> + <p> + With a slight inclination of her head, and withholding her hand + intentionally, she moved away, whilst I stood, as only a fool or a statue + would stand, and watched her go. + </p> + <p> + Once she paused, and, indeed, half turned, whereupon hope knocked at my + heart again; but before I had admitted it, she had resumed her walk + towards the house. Hungrily I followed her graceful, lissom figure with my + eyes until she had crossed the threshold. Then, with a dull ache in my + breast, I flung myself upon a stone seat, and, addressing myself to the + setting sun for want of a better audience, I roundly cursed her sex for + the knottiest puzzle that had ever plagued the mind of man in the + unravelling. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. FATHER AND SON + </h2> + <p> + “Gaston,” quoth Andrea next morning, “you will remain at Canaples until + to-morrow? You must, for to-morrow I am to be wed, and I would fain have + your good wishes ere you go.” + </p> + <p> + “Nice hands, mine, to seek a benediction at,” I grumbled. + </p> + <p> + “But you will remain? Come, Gaston, we have been good friends, you and I, + and who knows when next we shall meet? Believe me, I shall value your 'God + speed' above all others.” + </p> + <p> + “Likely enough, since it will be the only one you'll hear.” + </p> + <p> + But for all my sneers he was not to be put off. He talked and coaxed so + winningly that in the end—albeit I am a man not easily turned from + the course he has set himself—the affectionate pleading in his fresh + young voice and the affectionate look in his dark eyes won me to his way. + </p> + <p> + Forthwith I went in quest of the Chevalier, whom, at the indication of a + lackey, I discovered in the room it pleased him to call his study—that + same room into which we had been ushered on the day of our arrival at + Canaples. I told him that on the morrow I must set out for Paris, and + albeit he at first expressed a polite regret, yet when I had shown him how + my honour was involved in my speedy return thither, he did not urge me to + put off my departure. + </p> + <p> + “It grieves me, sir, that you must go, and I deeply regret the motive that + is taking you. Yet I hope that his Eminence, in recognition of the + services you have rendered his nephew, will see fit to forget what cause + for resentment he may have against you, and render you your liberty. If + you will give me leave, Monsieur, I will write to his Eminence in this + strain, and you shall be the bearer of my letter.” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him, with a smile of deprecation, as I thought of the true cause + of Mazarin's resentment, which was precisely that of the plea upon which + M. de Canaples sought to obtain for me my liberation. + </p> + <p> + “And now, Monsieur,” he pursued nervously, “touching Andrea and his visit + here, I would say a word to you who are his friend, and may haply know + something of his mind. It is over two months since he came here, and yet + the—er—affair which we had hoped to bring about seems no + nearer its conclusion than when first he came. Of late I have watched him + and I have watched Yvonne; they are certainly good friends, yet not even + the frail barrier of formality appears overcome betwixt them, and I am + beginning to fear that Andrea is not only lukewarm in this matter, but is + forgetful of his uncle's wishes and selfishly indifferent to Monseigneur's + projects and mine, which, as he well knows, are the reason of his sojourn + at my château. What think you of this, M. de Luynes?” + </p> + <p> + He shot a furtive glance at me as he spoke, and with his long, lean + forefinger he combed his beard in a nervous fashion. + </p> + <p> + I gave a short laugh to cover my embarrassment at the question. + </p> + <p> + “What do I think, Monsieur?” I echoed to gain time. Then, thinking that a + sententious answer would be the most fitting,—“Ma foi! Love is as + the spark that lies latent in flint and steel: for days and weeks these + two may be as close together as you please, and naught will come of it; + but one fine day, a hand—the hand of chance—will strike the + one against the other, and lo!—the spark is born!” + </p> + <p> + “You speak in parables, Monsieur,” was his caustic comment. + </p> + <p> + “'T is in parables that all religions are preached,” I returned, “and + love, methinks, is a great religion in this world.” + </p> + <p> + “Love, sir, love!” he cried petulantly. “The word makes me sick! What has + love to do with this union? Love, sir, is a pretty theme for poets, + romancers, and fools. The imagination of such a sentiment—for it is + a sentiment that does not live save in the imagination—may serve to + draw peasants and other lowbred clods into wedlock. With such as we—with + gentlemen—it has naught to do. So let that be, Monsieur. Andrea de + Mancini came hither to wed my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “And I am certain, Monsieur,” I answered stoutly, “that Andrea will wed + your daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak with confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “I know Andrea well. Signs that may be hidden to you are clear to me, and + I have faith in my prophecy.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me, and fell a victim to my confidence of manner. The + petulancy died out of his face. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well! We will hope. My Lord Cardinal is to create him Duke, and he + will assume as title his wife's estate, becoming known to history as + Andrea de Mancini, Duke of Canaples. Thus shall a great house be founded + that will bear our name. You see the importance of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “And how reasonable is my anxiety?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are in sympathy with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu! Why else did I go so near to killing your son?” + </p> + <p> + “True,” he mused. Then suddenly he added, “Apropos, have you heard that + Eugène has become one of the leaders of these frondeur madmen?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Then he is quite recovered?” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately,” he assented with a grimace, and thus our interview ended. + </p> + <p> + That day wore slowly to its close. I wandered hither and thither in the + château and the grounds, hungering throughout the long hours for a word + with Mademoiselle—a glimpse of her, at least. + </p> + <p> + But all day long she kept her chamber, the pretext being that she was + beset by a migraine. By accident I came upon her that evening, at last, in + the salon; yet my advent was the signal for her departure, and all the + words she had for me were: + </p> + <p> + “Still at Canaples, Monsieur? I thought you were to have left this + morning.” She looked paler than her wont, and her eyes were somewhat red. + </p> + <p> + “I am remaining until to-morrow,” said I awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + “Vraiement!” was all she answered, and she was gone. + </p> + <p> + Next morning the Chevalier and I breakfasted alone. Mademoiselle's + migraine was worse. Geneviève was nursing, so her maid brought word—whilst + Andrea had gone out an hour before and had not returned. + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier shot me an apologetic glance across the board. + </p> + <p> + “'T is a poor 'God speed' to you, M. de Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + I made light of it and turned the conversation into an indifferent + channel, wherein it abided until, filling himself a bumper of Anjou, the + Chevalier solemnly drank to my safe journey and good fortune in Paris. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Andrea entered by the door abutting on the terrace balcony. + He was flushed, and his eyes sparkled with a joyous fever. Profuse was he + in his apologies, which, howbeit, were passing vague in character, and + which he brought to a close by pledging me as the Chevalier had done + already. + </p> + <p> + As we rose, Geneviève appeared with the news that Yvonne was somewhat + better, adding that she had come to take leave of me. Her composure + surprised me gladly, for albeit in her eyes there was also a telltale + light, the lids, demurely downcast as was her wont, amply screened it from + the vulgar gaze. + </p> + <p> + Andrea would tell his father-in-law of the marriage later in the day; and + for all I am not a chicken-hearted man, still I had no stomach to be at + hand when the storm broke. + </p> + <p> + The moment having come for my departure, and Michelot awaiting me already + with the horses in the courtyard, M. de Canaples left us to seek the + letter which I was to carry to his Eminence. So soon as the door had + closed upon him, Andrea came forward, leading his bride by the hand, and + asked me to wish them happiness. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” I answered; “and if happiness be accorded you in a + measure with the fervency of my wishes then shall you, indeed, be happy. + Each of you I congratulate upon the companion in life you have chosen. + Cherish him, Mademoi—Madame, for he is loyal and true—and such + are rare in this world.” + </p> + <p> + It is possible that I might have said more in this benign and fatherly + strain—for it seemed to me that this new role I had assumed suited + me wondrous well—but a shadow that drew our eyes towards the nearest + window interrupted me. And what we saw there drew a cry from Andrea, a + shudder from Geneviève, and from me a gasp that was half amazement, half + dismay. For, leaning upon the sill, surveying us with a sardonic, evil + grin, we beheld Eugène de Canaples, the man whom I had left with a + sword-thrust through his middle behind the Hôtel Vendôme two months ago. + Whence was he sprung, and why came he thus to his father's house? + </p> + <p> + He started as I faced him, for doubtless St. Auban had boasted to him that + he had killed me in a duel. For a moment he remained at the window, then + he disappeared, and we could hear the ring of his spurred heel as he + walked along the balcony towards the door. + </p> + <p> + And simultaneously came the quick, hurrying steps of the Chevalier de + Canaples, as he crossed the hall, returning with the letter he had gone to + fetch. + </p> + <p> + Geneviève shuddered again, and looked fearfully from one door to the + other; Andrea drew a sharp breath like a man in pain, whilst I rapped out + an oath to brace my nerves for the scene which we all three foresaw. Then + in silence we waited, some subtle instinct warning us of the disaster that + impended. + </p> + <p> + The steps on the balcony halted, and a second later those in the hall; and + then, as though the thing had been rehearsed and timed so that the + spectators might derive the utmost effect from it, the doors opened + together, and on the opposing thresholds, with the width of the room + betwixt them, stood father and son confronted. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. OF HOW I LEFT CANAPLES + </h2> + <p> + Whilst a man might tell a dozen did those two remain motionless, the one + eyeing the other. But their bearing was as widely different as their + figures; Eugène's stalwart frame stood firm and erect, insolence in every + line of it, reflected perchance from the smile that lurked about the + corners of his thinlipped mouth. + </p> + <p> + The hat, which he had not had the grace to doff, set jauntily upon his + straight black hair, the jerkin of leather which he wore, and the stout + sword which hung from the plainest of belts, all served to give him the + air of a ruffler, or tavern knight. + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier, on the other hand, stood as if turned to stone. From his + enervated fingers the letter fluttered to the ground, and on his pale, + thin face was to be read a displeasure mixed with fear. + </p> + <p> + At length, with an oath, the old man broke the silence. + </p> + <p> + “What seek you at Canaples?” he asked in a quivering voice, as he advanced + into the room. “Are you so dead to shame that you dare present yourself + with such effrontery? Off with your hat, sir!” he blazed, stamping his + foot, and going from pale to crimson. “Off with your hat, or Mortdieu, + I'll have you flung out of doors by my grooms.” + </p> + <p> + This show of vehemence, as sudden as it was unexpected, drew from Eugène a + meek obedience that I had not looked for. Nevertheless, the young man's + lip curled as he uncovered. + </p> + <p> + “How fatherly is your greeting!” he sneered. The Chevalier's eyes flashed + a glance that lacked no venom at his son. + </p> + <p> + “What manner of greeting did you look for?” he returned hotly. “Did you + expect me to set a ring upon your finger, and have the fattened calf + killed in honour of your return? Sangdieu, sir! Have you come hither to + show me how a father should welcome the profligate son who has dishonoured + his name? Why are you here, unbidden? Answer me, sir!” + </p> + <p> + A deep flush overspread Eugène's cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “I had thought when I crossed the threshold that this was the Château de + Canaples, or else that my name was Canaples—I know not which. + Clearly I was mistaken, for here is a lady who has no word either of + greeting or intercession for me, and who, therefore, cannot be my sister, + and yonder a man whom I should never look to find in my father's house.” + </p> + <p> + I took a step forward, a hot answer on my lips, when from the doorway at + my back came Yvonne's sweet voice. + </p> + <p> + “Eugène! You here?” + </p> + <p> + “As you see, Sister. Though had you delayed your coming 't is probable you + would no longer have found me, for your father welcomes me with oaths and + threatens me with his grooms.” + </p> + <p> + She cast a reproachful glance upon the Chevalier, 'neath which the anger + seemed to die out of him; then she went forward with hands outstretched + and a sad smile upon her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Yvonne!” The Chevalier's voice rang out sharp and sudden. + </p> + <p> + She stopped. + </p> + <p> + “I forbid you to approach that man!” + </p> + <p> + For a moment she appeared to hesitate; then, leisurely pursuing her way, + she set her hands upon her brother's shoulders and embraced him. + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier swore through set teeth; Geneviève trembled, Andrea looked + askance, and I laughed softly at the Chevalier's discomfiture. Eugène + flung his hat and cloak into a corner and strode across the room to where + his father stood. + </p> + <p> + “And now, Monsieur, since I have travelled all the way from Paris to save + my house from a step that will bring it into the contempt of all France, I + shall not go until you have heard me.” + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier shrugged his shoulders and made as if to turn away. Yvonne's + greeting of her brother appeared to have quenched the spark of spirit that + for a moment had glimmered in the little man's breast. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” cried Eugène, “believe me that what I have to say is of the + utmost consequence, and say it I will—whether before these strangers + or in your private ear shall be as you elect.” + </p> + <p> + The old man glanced about him like one who seeks a way of escape. At last—“If + say it you must,” he growled, “say it here and now. And when you have said + it, go.” + </p> + <p> + Eugène scowled at me, and from me to Andrea. To pay him for that scowl, I + had it in my mind to stay; but, overcoming the clownish thought, I took + Andrea by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Andrea,” I said, “we will take a turn outside while these family + matters are in discussion.” + </p> + <p> + I had a shrewd idea what was the substance of Eugène's mission to Canaples—to + expostulate with his father touching the proposed marriage of Yvonne to + the Cardinal's nephew. + </p> + <p> + Nor was I wrong, for when, some moments later, the Chevalier recalled us + from the terrace, where we were strolling—“What think you he has + come hither to tell me?” he inquired as we entered. He pointed to his son + as he spoke, and passion shook his slender frame as the breeze shakes a + leaf. Mademoiselle and Geneviève sat hand in hand—Yvonne deadly + pale, Geneviève weeping. + </p> + <p> + “What think you he has the effrontery to say? Têtedieu! it seems that he + has profited little by the lesson you read him in the horse-market about + meddling in matters which concern him not. He has come hither to tell me + that he will not permit his sister to wed the Cardinal's nephew; that he + will not have the estates of Canaples pass into the hands of a foreign + upstart. He, forsooth—he! he! he!” And at each utterance of the + pronoun he lunged with his forefinger in the direction of his son. “This + he is not ashamed to utter before Yvonne herself!” + </p> + <p> + “You compelled me to do so,” cried Eugène angrily. + </p> + <p> + “I?” ejaculated the Chevalier. “Did I compel you to come hither with your + 'I will' and 'I will not'? Who are you, that you should give laws at + Canaples? And he adds, sir,” quoth the old knight excitedly, “that sooner + than allow this marriage to take place he will kill M. de Mancini.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be happy to afford him the opportunity!” shouted Andrea, bounding + forward. + </p> + <p> + Eugène looked up quickly and gave a short laugh. Thereupon followed a wild + hubbub; everyone rushed forward and everyone talked; even little Geneviève—louder + than all the rest. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not fight! You shall not fight!” she cried, and her voice was + so laden with command that all others grew silent and all eyes were turned + upon her. + </p> + <p> + “What affair is this of yours, little one?” quoth Eugène. + </p> + <p> + “'T is this,” she answered, panting, “that you need fear no marriage + 'twixt my sister and Andrea.” + </p> + <p> + In her eagerness she had cast caution to the winds of heaven. Her father + and brother stared askance at her; I gave an inward groan. + </p> + <p> + “Andrea!” echoed Eugène at last. “What is this man to you that you speak + thus of him?” + </p> + <p> + The girl flung herself upon her father's breast. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she sobbed, “dear father, forgive!” + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier's brow grew dark; roughly he seized her by the arms and, + holding her at arm's length, scanned her face. + </p> + <p> + “What must I forgive?” he inquired in a thick voice. “What is M. de + Mancini to you?” + </p> + <p> + Some sinister note in her father's voice caused the girl to grow of a + sudden calm and to assume a rigidity that reminded me of her sister. + </p> + <p> + “He is my husband!” she answered. And there was a note of pride—almost + of triumph—in her voice. + </p> + <p> + An awful silence followed the launching of that thunderbolt. Eugène stood + with open mouth, staring now at Geneviève, now at his father. Andrea set + his arm about his bride's waist, and her fair head was laid trustingly + upon his shoulder. The Chevalier's eyes rolled ominously. At length he + spoke in a dangerously calm voice. + </p> + <p> + “How long is it—how long have you been wed?” + </p> + <p> + “We were wed in Blois an hour ago,” answered Geneviève. + </p> + <p> + Something that was like a grunt escaped the Chevalier, then his eye + fastened upon me, and his anger boiled up. + </p> + <p> + “You knew of this?” he asked, coming towards me. + </p> + <p> + “I knew of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you lied to me yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + I drew myself up, stiff as a broomstick. + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand,” I answered coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Did you not give me your assurance that M. de Mancini would marry + Yvonne?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not, Monsieur. I did but tell you that he would wed your daughter. + And, ma foi! your daughter he has wed.” + </p> + <p> + “You have fooled me, scélérat!” he blazed out. “You, who have been + sheltered by—” + </p> + <p> + “Father!” Yvonne interrupted, taking his arm. “M. de Luynes has behaved no + worse than have I, or any one of us, in this matter.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” he cried, and pointed to Andrea. “'T is you who have wrought this + infamy. Eugène,” he exclaimed, turning of a sudden to his son, “you have a + sword; wipe out this shame.” + </p> + <p> + “Shame!” echoed Geneviève. “Oh, father, where is the shame? If it were no + shame for Andrea to marry Yvonne, surely—” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” he thundered. “Eugène—” + </p> + <p> + But Eugène answered him with a contemptuous laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You are quick enough to call upon my sword, now that things have not + fallen out as you would have them. Where are your grooms now, Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Insolent hound!” cried his father indignantly. Then, letting fall his + arms with something that was near akin to a sob—“Is there no one + left to do aught but mock me?” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + But this weakness was no more than momentary. + </p> + <p> + “Out of my house, sir!” he blazed, turning upon Andrea, and for a moment + methought he would have struck him. “Out of my house—you and this + wife of yours!” + </p> + <p> + “Father!” sobbed Geneviève, with hands outstretched in entreaty. + </p> + <p> + “Out of my house,” he repeated, “and you also, M. de Luynes. Away with + you! Go with the master you have served so well.” And, turning on his + heel, he strode towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Father—dear father!” cried Geneviève, following him: he slammed the + door in her face for answer. + </p> + <p> + With a moan she sank down upon her knees, her frail body shaken by + convulsive sobs—Dieu! what a bridal morn was hers! + </p> + <p> + Andrea and Yvonne raised her and led her to a chair. Eugène watched them + with a cynical eye, then laughed brutally, and, gathering up his hat and + cloak, he moved towards the balcony door and vanished. + </p> + <p> + “Is M. de Luynes still there?” quoth Geneviève presently. + </p> + <p> + “I am here, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “You had best set out, Monsieur,” she said. “We shall follow soon—very + soon.” + </p> + <p> + I took Andrea aside and asked him whither it was his intention to take his + wife. He replied that they would go to Chambord, where they would remain + for some weeks in the hope that the Chevalier might relent sufficiently to + forgive them. Thereafter it was his purpose to take his bride home to his + Sicilian demesne. + </p> + <p> + Our farewells were soon spoken; yet none the less warm, for all its + brevity, was my leave-taking of Andrea, and our wishes for each other's + happiness were as fervent as the human heart can shape. We little thought + that we were not destined to meet again for years. + </p> + <p> + Yvonne's adieu was cold and formal—so cold and formal that it seemed + to rob the sunshine of its glory for me as I stepped out into the open + air. + </p> + <p> + After all, what mattered it? I was a fool to have entertained a single + tender thought concerning her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. OF MY RETURN TO PARIS + </h2> + <p> + Scant cause is there for me to tarry over the details of my return to + Paris. A sad enough journey was it; as sad for my poor Michelot as for + myself, since he rode with one so dejected as I. + </p> + <p> + Things had gone ill, and I feared that when the Cardinal heard the story + things would go worse, for Mazarin was never a tolerant man, nor one to be + led by the gospel of mercy and forgiveness. For myself I foresaw the rope—possibly + even the wheel; and a hundred times a day I dubbed myself a fool for + obeying the voice of honour with such punctiliousness when so grim a + reward awaited me. What mood was on me—me, Gaston de Luynes, whose + honour had been long since besmirched and tattered until no outward + semblance of honour was left? + </p> + <p> + But swift in the footsteps of that question would come the answer—Yvonne. + Ay, truly enough, it was because in my heart I had dared to hold a + sentiment of love for her, the purest—nay, the only pure—thing + my heart had held for many a year, that I would set nothing vile to keep + company with that sentiment; that until my sun should set—and + already it dropped swiftly towards life's horizon—my actions should + be the actions of such a man as might win Yvonne's affections. + </p> + <p> + But let that be. This idle restrospective mood can interest you but + little; nor can you profit from it, unless, indeed, it be by noting how + holy and cleansing to the heart of man is the love—albeit unrequited—that + he bears a good woman. + </p> + <p> + As we drew near Meung—where we lay on that first night of our + journey—a light travelling chaise, going in the same direction, + passed us at a gallop. As it flashed by, I caught a glimpse of Eugène de + Canaples's swart face through the window. Whether the recognition was + mutual I cannot say—nor does it signify. + </p> + <p> + When we reached the Hôtel de la Couronne, half an hour later, we saw that + same chaise disappearing round a corner of the street, whilst through the + porte-cochère the hostler was leading a pair of horses, foam-flecked and + steaming with sweat. + </p> + <p> + Whither went Master Canaples at such a rate, and in a haste that caused + him to travel day and night? To a goal he little looked for—or + rather, which, in the madness of his headlong rush, he could not see. So I + was to learn ere long. + </p> + <p> + Next day I awoke betimes, and setting my window wide to let in the fresh, + clean-smelling air of that May morning I made shift to dress. Save for the + cackle of the poultry which had strayed into the courtyard, and the noisy + yawns and sleep-laden ejaculations of the stable-boy, who was drawing + water for the horses, all was still, for it had not yet gone five o'clock. + </p> + <p> + But of a sudden a door opened somewhere, and a step rang out, accompanied + by the jangle of spurs, and with it came a sharp, unpleasant voice calling + for its owner's horse. There was a familiar sound in those shrill accents + that caused me to thrust my head through the casement. But I was quick to + withdraw it, as I recognised in the gaily dressed little fellow below my + old friend Malpertuis. + </p> + <p> + I know not what impulse made me draw back so suddenly. The action was as + much the child of instinct as of the lately acquired habit of concealing + my face from the gaze of all who were likely to spread abroad the news + that I still lived. + </p> + <p> + From behind my curtains I watched Malpertuis ride out of the yard, saying, + in answer to a parting question of the landlord, who had come upon the + scene, that he would breakfast at Beaugency. + </p> + <p> + Then, as he rode down the street, he of a sudden raised his discordant + voice and sang to the accompaniment of his horse's hoofs. And the burden + of his song ran thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A frondeur wind + Got up to-day, + 'Gainst Mazarin + It blows, they say. +</pre> + <p> + I listened in amazement to his raven's voice. + </p> + <p> + Whither was he bound, I asked myself, and whence a haste that made him set + out fasting, with an anti-cardinalist ditty on his lips, and ride two + leagues to seek a breakfast in a village that did not hold an inn where a + dog might be housed in comfort? + </p> + <p> + Like Eugène de Canaples, he also travelled towards a goal that he little + dreamt of. And so albeit the one went south and the other north, these two + men were, between them, drawing together the thread of this narrative of + mine, as anon you shall learn. + </p> + <p> + We reached Paris at dusk three days later, and we went straight to my old + lodging in the Rue St. Antoine. + </p> + <p> + Coupri started and gasped upon beholding me, and not until I had cursed + him for a fool in a voice that was passing human would he believe that I + was no ghost. He too had heard the rumour of my death. + </p> + <p> + I dispatched Michelot to the Palais Royal, where—without permitting + his motive to transpire—he was to ascertain for me whether M. de + Montrésor was in Paris, whether he still dwelt at the Hôtel des Cloches, + and at what hour he could be found there. + </p> + <p> + Whilst he was away I went up to my room, and there I found a letter which + Coupri informed me had been left by a lackey a month ago—before the + report that I had been killed had reached Paris—and since lain + forgotten. It was a delicate note, to which still hung the ghost of a + perfume; there were no arms on the seal, but the writing I took to be that + of my aunt, the Duchesse de Chevreuse, and vaguely marvelling what motive + she could have had for communicating with me, I cut the silk. + </p> + <p> + It was, indeed, from the Duchesse, but it contained no more than a request + that I should visit her at her hôtel on the day following upon that on + which she had written, adding that she had pleasing news for me. + </p> + <p> + I thrust the note into my pocket with a sigh. Of what could it avail me + now to present myself at her hôtel? Her invitation was for a month ago. + Since then she would likely enough have heard the rumour that had been + current, and would have ceased to expect me. + </p> + <p> + I caught myself wondering whether the news might have caused her a pang of + regret, and somehow methought this possible. For of all my relatives, + Madame de Chevreuse was the only one—and she was but my aunt by + marriage—who of late years had shown me any kindness, or even + recognition. I marvelled what her pleasing news could be, and I concluded + that probably she had heard of my difficulties, and wished once again to + help me out of them. Well, my purse was hollow, indeed, at the moment, but + I need not trouble her, since I was going somewhere where purses are not + needed—on a journey to which no expenses are attached. + </p> + <p> + In my heart, nevertheless, I blessed the gracious lady, who, for all the + lies that the world may have told of her, was the kindest woman I had + known, and the best—save one other. + </p> + <p> + I was still musing when Michelot returned with the information that M. de + Montrésor was to be found at the Hôtel des Cloches, whither he had gone to + sup a few minutes before. Straightway I set out, bidding him attend me, + and, muffled in my cloak, I proceeded at a brisk pace to the Rue des + Fosses St. Germain, where the lieutenant's auberge was situated. + </p> + <p> + I left Michelot in the common-room, and, preceded by the plump little + woman who owned the house, I ascended to Montrésor's chamber. I found the + young soldier at table, and, fortunately, alone. He rose as I entered, and + as the hostess, retreating, closed the door, I doffed my hat, and letting + fall my cloak revealed myself. His lips parted, and I heard the hiss of an + indrawn breath as his astonished eyes fell upon my countenance. My laugh + dispelled his doubts that I might be other than flesh and blood—yet + not his doubts touching my identity. He caught up a taper and, coming + forward, he cast the light on my face for a moment, then setting the + candle back upon the table, he vented his surprise in an oath or two, + which was natural enough in one of his calling. + </p> + <p> + “'T is clear, Lieutenant,” quoth I, as I detached my sword from the + baldrick, “that you believed me dead. Fate willed, however, that I should + be restored to life, and so soon as I had recovered sufficient strength to + undertake the journey to Paris, I set out. I arrived an hour ago, and here + I am, to redeem my word of honour, and surrender the sword and liberty + which you but lent me.” + </p> + <p> + I placed my rapier on the table and waited for him to speak. Instead, + however, he continued to stare at me for some moments, and when at last he + did break the silence, it was to burst into a laugh that poured from his + throat in rich, mellow peals, as he lay back in his chair. + </p> + <p> + My wrath arose. Had I travelled from Blois, and done what I deemed the + most honourable deed of my life, to be laughed at for my pains by a + foppish young jackanapes of his Eminence's guards? Something of my + displeasure must he have seen reflected on my face, for of a sudden he + checked his mirth. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, M. de Luynes,” he gasped. “Pardieu, 't is no matter for + laughter, and albeit I laughed with more zest than courtesy, I give you my + word that my admiration for you vastly exceeds my amusement. M. de + Luynes,” he added, rising and holding out his hand to me, “there are liars + in Paris who give you an evil name—men who laughed at me when they + heard that I had given you leave to go on parole to St. Sulpice des Reaux + that night, trusting to your word of honour that you would return if you + lived. His Eminence dubbed me a fool and went near to dismissing me from + his service, and yet I have now the proof that my confidence was not + misplaced, since even though you were believed to be dead, you did not + hesitate to bring me your sword.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, spare me!” I exclaimed, for in truth his compliments waxed as + irksome as had been his whilom merriment. + </p> + <p> + He continued, however, his laudatory address, and when it was at last + ended, and he paused exhausted alike in breath and brain, it was to take + up my sword and return it to me with my parole, pronouncing me a free man, + and advising me to let men continue to think me dead, and to withdraw from + France. He cut short my half-protesting thanks, and calling the hostess + bade her set another cover, whilst me he invited to share his supper. And + as we ate he again urged upon me the advice that I should go abroad. + </p> + <p> + “For by Heaven,” he added, “Mazarin has been as a raging beast since the + news was brought him yesterday of his nephew's marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” I cried. “He has heard already?” + </p> + <p> + “He has, indeed; and should he learn that your flesh still walks the + earth, methinks it would go worse with you than it went even with Eugène + de Canaples.” + </p> + <p> + In answer to the questions with which I excitedly plied him, I drew from + him the story of how Eugène had arrived the day before in Paris, and gone + straight to the Palais Royal. M. de Montrésor had been on guard in the + ante-chamber, and in virtue of an excitement noticeable in Canaples's + bearing, coupled with the ill-odour wherein already he was held by + Mazarin, the lieutenant's presence had been commanded in the Cardinal's + closet during the interview—for his Eminence was never like to + acquire fame for valour. + </p> + <p> + In his exultation at what had chanced, and at the manner in which + Mazarin's Château en Espagne had been dispelled, Canaples used little + caution, or even discretion, in what he said. In fact, from what Montrésor + told me, I gathered that the fool's eagerness to be the first to bear the + tidings to Mazarin sprang from a rash desire to gloat over the Cardinal's + discomfiture. He had told his story insolently—almost derisively—and + Mazarin's fury, driven beyond bounds already by what he had heard, became + a very tempest of passion 'neath the lash of Canaples's impertinences. + And, naturally enough, that tempest had burst upon the only head available—Eugène + de Canaples's—and the Cardinal had answered his jibes with interest + by calling upon Montrésor to arrest the fellow and bear him to the + Bastille. + </p> + <p> + When the astonished and sobered Canaples had indignantly asked upon what + charge he was being robbed of his liberty, the Cardinal had laughed at + him, and answered with his never-failing axiom that “He who sings, pays.” + </p> + <p> + “You sang lustily enough just now,” his Eminence had added, “and you shall + pay by lodging awhile in an oubliette of the Bastille, where you may lift + up your voice to sing the De profundis.” + </p> + <p> + “Was my name not mentioned?” I anxiously inquired when Montrésor had + finished. + </p> + <p> + “Not once. You may depend that I should have remarked it. After I had + taken Canaples away, the Cardinal, I am told, sat down, and, still + trembling with rage, wrote a letter which he straightway dispatched to the + Chevalier Armand de Canaples, at Blois. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt,” I mused, “he attributes much blame to me for what has come to + pass.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a doubt of it. This morning he said to me that it was a pity your + wings had not been clipped before you left Paris, and that his misplaced + clemency had helped to bring him great misfortunes. You see, therefore, M. + de Luynes, that your sojourn in France will be attended with great peril. + I advise you to try Spain; 't is a martial country where a man of the + sword may find honourable and even profitable employment.” + </p> + <p> + His counsel I deemed sound. But how follow it? Then of a sudden I + bethought me of Madame de Chevreuse's friendly letter. Doubtless she would + assist me once again, and in such an extremity as this. And with the + conception of the thought came the resolution to visit her on the morrow. + That formed, I gave myself up to the task of drinking M. de Montrésor + under the table with an abandon which had not been mine for months. In + each goblet that I drained, methought I saw Yvonne's sweet face floating + on the surface of the red Armagnac; it looked now sad, now reproachful, + still I drank on, and in each cup I pledged her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. OF HOW THE CHEVALIER DE CANAPLES BECAME A FRONDEUR + </h2> + <p> + It wanted an hour or so to noon next day as I drove across the Pont Neuf + in a closed carriage, and was borne down the Rue St. Dominique to the + portals of that splendid palace, facing the Jacobins, which bears the + title of the “Hôtel de Luynes,” and over the portals of which is carved + the escutcheon of our house. + </p> + <p> + Michelot—in obedience to the orders I had given him—got down + only to be informed that Madame la Duchesse was in the country. The lackey + who was summoned did not know where the lady might be found, nor when she + might return to Paris. And so I was compelled to drive back almost + despairingly to the Rue St. Antoine, and there lie concealed, nursing my + impatience, until my aunt should return. + </p> + <p> + Daily I sent Michelot to the Hôtel de Luynes to make the same inquiry, and + to return daily with the same dispiriting reply—that there was no + news of Madame la Duchesse. + </p> + <p> + In this fashion some three weeks wore themselves out, during which period + I lay in my concealment, a prey to weariness unutterable. I might not + venture forth save at night, unless I wore a mask; and as masks were no + longer to be worn without attracting notice—as during the late + king's reign—I dared not indulge the practice. + </p> + <p> + Certainly my ennui was greatly relieved by the visits of Montrésor, which + grew very frequent, the lad appearing to have conceived a kindness for me; + and during those three weeks our fellowship at nights over a bottle or two + engendered naturally enough a friendship and an intimacy between us. + </p> + <p> + I had written to Andrea on the morrow of my return to Paris, to tell him + how kindly Montrésor had dealt with me, and some ten days later the + following letter was brought me by the lieutenant—to whom, for + safety, it had been forwarded: + </p> + <p> + “MY VERY DEAR GASTON: + </p> + <p> + I have no words wherewith to express my joy at the good news you send me, + which terminates the anxiety that has been mine since you left us on the + disastrous morning of our nuptials. + </p> + <p> + The uncertainty touching your fate, the fear that the worst might have + befallen you, and the realisation that I—for whom you have done so + much—might do naught for you in your hour of need, has been the one + cloud to mar the sunshine of my own bliss. + </p> + <p> + That cloud your letter has dispelled, and the knowledge of your safety + renders my happiness complete. + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier maintains his unforgiving mood, as no doubt doth also my + Lord Cardinal. But what to me are the frowns of either, so that my lady + smile? My little Geneviève is yet somewhat vexed in spirit at all this, + but I am teaching her to have faith in Time, the patron saint of all + lovers who follow not the course their parents set them. And so that time + may be allowed to intercede and appeal to the parent heart with the potent + prayer of a daughter's absence, I shall take my lady from Chambord some + three days hence. We shall travel by easy stages to Marseilles, and there + take ship for Palermo. + </p> + <p> + And so, dear, trusty friend, until we meet again, fare you well and may + God hold you safe from the wickedness of man, devil, and my Lord Cardinal. + </p> + <p> + For all that you have done for me, no words of mine can thank you, but + should you determine to quit this France of yours, and journey to Palermo + after me, you shall never want a roof to shelter you or a board to sit at, + so long as roof and board are owned by him who signs himself, in love at + least, your brother— + </p> + <p> + “ANDREA DE MANCINI.” + </p> + <p> + With a sigh I set the letter down. A sigh of love and gratitude it was; a + sigh also of regret for the bright, happy boy who had been the source + alike of my recent joys and sorrows, and whom methought I was not likely + to see again for many a day, since the peaceful vegetation of his Sicilian + home held little attraction for me, a man of action. + </p> + <p> + It was on the evening of the last Sunday in May, whilst the bell of the + Jesuits, close by, was tinkling out its summons to vespers, that Montrésor + burst suddenly into my room with the request that I should get my hat and + cloak and go with him to pay a visit. In reply to my questions—“Monseigneur's + letter to Armand de Canaples,” he said, “has borne fruit already. Come + with me and you shall learn how.” + </p> + <p> + He led me past the Bastille and up the Rue des Tournelles to the door of + an unpretentious house, upon which he knocked. We were admitted by an old + woman to whom Montrésor appeared to be known, for, after exchanging a word + or two with her, he himself led the way upstairs and opened the door of a + room for me. + </p> + <p> + By the melancholy light of a single taper burning upon the table I beheld + a fair-sized room containing a curtained bed. + </p> + <p> + My companion took up the candle, and stepping to the bedside, he drew + apart the curtains. + </p> + <p> + Lying there I beheld a man whose countenance, despite its pallor and the + bloody bandages about his brow, I recognised for that of the little + spitfire Malpertuis. + </p> + <p> + As the light fell upon his face, the little fellow opened his eyes, and + upon beholding me at his side he made a sudden movement which wrung from + him a cry of pain. + </p> + <p> + “Lie still, Monsieur,” said Montrésor quietly. + </p> + <p> + But for all the lieutenant's remonstrances, he struggled up into a sitting + posture, requesting Montrésor to set the pillows at his back. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God you are here, M. de Luynes!” he said. “I learnt at Canaples + that you were not dead.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been to Canaples?” + </p> + <p> + “I was a guest of the Chevalier for twelve days. I arrived there on the + day after your departure.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” I ejaculated. “Pray what took you to Canaples?” + </p> + <p> + “What took me there?” he echoed, turning his feverish eyes upon me, almost + with fierceness. “The same motive that led me to join hands with that + ruffian St. Auban, when he spoke of waging war against Mancini; the same + motive that led me to break with him when I saw through his plans, and + when the abduction of Mademoiselle was on foot; the same motive that made + me come to you and tell you of the proposed abduction so that you might + interfere if you had the power, or cause others to do so if you had not.” + </p> + <p> + I lay back in my chair and stared at him. Was this, then, another suitor + of Yvonne de Canaples, and were all men mad with love of her? + </p> + <p> + Presently he continued: + </p> + <p> + “When I heard that St. Auban was in Paris, having apparently abandoned all + hope in connection with Mademoiselle, I obtained a letter from M. de la + Rochefoucauld—who is an intimate friend of mine—and armed with + this I set out. As luck would have it I got embroiled in the streets of + Blois with a couple of cardinalist gentlemen, who chose to be offended by + lampoon of the Fronde that I was humming. I am not a patient man, and I am + even indiscreet in moments of choler. I ended by crying, 'Down with + Mazarin and all his creatures,' and I would of a certainty have had my + throat slit, had not a slight and elegant gentleman interposed, and, + exercising a wonderful influence over my assailants, extricated me from my + predicament. This gentleman was the Chevalier de Canaples. He was + strangely enough in a mood to be pleased by an anti-cardinalist ditty, for + his rage against Andrea de Mancini—which he took no pains to conceal—had + extended already to the Cardinal, and from morn till night he did little + else but revile the whole Italian brood—as he chose to dub the + Cardinal's family.” + </p> + <p> + I recognised the old knight's weak, vacillating character in this, a + creature of moods that, like the vane on a steeple, turns this way or + that, as the wind blows. + </p> + <p> + “I crave your patience, M. de Luynes,” he continued, “and beg of you to + hear my story so that you may determine whether you will save the Canaples + from the danger that threatens them. I only ask that you dispatch a + reliable messenger to Blois. But hear me out first. In virtue as much of + La Rochefoucauld's letters as of the sentiments which the Chevalier heard + me express, I became the honoured guest at his château. Three days after + my arrival I sustained a shock by the unexpected appearance at Canaples of + St. Auban. The Chevalier, however, refused him admittance, and, baffled, + the Marquis was forced to withdraw. But he went no farther than Blois, + where he hired himself a room at the Lys de France. The Chevalier hated + him as a mad dog hates water—almost as much as he hated you. He + spoke often of you, and always bitterly.” + </p> + <p> + Before I knew what I had said— + </p> + <p> + “And Mademoiselle?” I burst out. “Did she ever mention my name?” + </p> + <p> + Malpertuis looked up quickly at the question, and a wan smile flickered + round his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Once she spoke of you to me—pityingly, as one might speak of a dead + man whose life had not been good.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” I broke in. “It matters little. Your story, M. Malpertuis.” + </p> + <p> + “After I had been at the château ten days, we learnt that Eugène de + Canaples had been sent to the Bastille. The news came in a letter penned + by his Eminence himself—a bitter, viperish letter, with a covert + threat in every line. The Chevalier's anger went white hot as he read the + disappointed Cardinal's epistle. His Eminence accused Eugène of being a + frondeur; M. de Canaples, whose politics had grown sadly rusted in the + country, asked me the meaning of the word. I explained to him the petty + squabbles between Court and Parliament, in consequence of the extortionate + imposts and of Mazarin's avariciousness. I avowed myself a partisan of the + Fronde, and within three days the Chevalier—who but a little time + before had sought an alliance with the Cardinal's family—had become + as rabid a frondeur as M. de Gondi, as fierce an anticardinalist as M. de + Beaufort. + </p> + <p> + “I humoured him in his new madness, with the result that ere long from + being a frondeur in heart, he thirsted to become a frondeur in deeds, and + he ended by begging me to bear a letter from him to the Coadjutor of + Paris, wherein he offered to place at M. de Gondi's disposal, towards the + expenses of the civil war which he believed to be imminent,—as, + indeed, it is,—the sum of sixty thousand livres. + </p> + <p> + “Now albeit I had gone to Canaples for purposes of my own, and not as an + agent of M. le Coadjuteur's, still for many reasons I saw fit to undertake + the Chevalier's commission. And so, bearing the letter in question, which + was hot and unguarded, and charged with endless treasonable matter, I set + out four days later for Paris, arriving here yesterday. + </p> + <p> + “I little knew that I had been followed by St. Auban. His suspicions must + have been awakened, I know not how, and clearly they were confirmed when I + stopped before the Coadjutor's house last night. I was about to mount the + steps, when of a sudden I was seized from behind by half a dozen hands and + dragged into a side street. I got free for a moment and attempted to + defend myself, but besides St. Auban there were two others. They broke my + sword and attempted to break my skull, in which they went perilously near + succeeding, as you see. Albeit half-swooning, I had yet sufficient + consciousness left to realise that my pockets were being emptied, and that + at last they had torn open my doublet and withdrawn the treasonable letter + from the breast of it. + </p> + <p> + “I was left bleeding in the kennel, and there I lay for nigh upon an hour + until a passer-by succoured me and carried out my request to be brought + hither and put to bed.” + </p> + <p> + He ceased, and for some moments there was silence, broken only by the + wounded man's laboured breathing, which argued that his narrative had left + him fatigued. At last I sprang up. + </p> + <p> + “The Chevalier de Canaples must be warned,” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “'T is an ugly business,” muttered Montrésor. “I'll wager a hundred that + Mazarin will hang the Chevalier if he catches him just now.” + </p> + <p> + “He would not dare!” cried Malpertuis. + </p> + <p> + “Not dare?” echoed the lieutenant. “The man who imprisoned the Princes of + Condé and Conti, and the Duke of Beaufort, not dare hang a provincial + knight with never a friend at Court! Pah, Monsieur, you do not know + Cardinal Mazarin.” + </p> + <p> + I realised to the full how likely Montrésor's prophecy was to be + fulfilled, and before I left Malpertuis I assured him that he had not + poured his story into the ears of an indifferent listener, and that I + would straightway find means of communicating with Canaples. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. OF THE BARGAIN THAT ST. AUBAN DROVE WITH MY LORD CARDINAL + </h2> + <p> + From the wounded man's bedside I wended my steps back to the Rue St. + Antoine, resolved to start for Blois that very night; and beside me walked + Montrésor, with bent head, like a man deep in thought. + </p> + <p> + At my door I paused to take my leave of the lieutenant, for I was in haste + to have my preparations made, and to be gone. But Montrésor appeared not + minded to be dismissed thus easily. + </p> + <p> + “What plan have you formed?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “The only plan there is to form—to set out for Canaples at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” he grunted, and again was silent. Then, suddenly throwing back his + head, “Par la mort Dieu!” he cried, “I care not what comes of it; I'll + tell you what I know. Lead the way to your chamber, M. de Luynes, and + delay your departure until you have heard me.” + </p> + <p> + Surprised as much by his words as by the tone in which he uttered them, + which was that of a man who is angry with himself, I passively did as I + was bidden. + </p> + <p> + Once within my little ante-chamber, he turned the key with his own hands, + and pointing to the door of my bedroom—“In there, Monsieur,” quoth + he, “we shall be safe from listeners.” + </p> + <p> + Deeper grew my astonishment at all this mystery, as we passed into the + room beyond. + </p> + <p> + “Now, M. de Luynes,” he cried, flinging down his hat, “for no apparent + reason I am about to commit treason; I am about to betray the hand that + pays me.” + </p> + <p> + “If no reason exists, why do so evil a deed?” I inquired calmly. “I have + learnt during our association to wish you well, Montrésor; if by telling + me that which your tongue burns to tell, you shall have cause for shame, + the door is yonder. Go before harm is done, and leave me alone to fight my + battle out.” + </p> + <p> + He stood up, and for a moment he seemed to waver, then dismissing his + doubts with an abrupt gesture, he sat down again. + </p> + <p> + “There is no wrong in what I do. Right is with you, M. de Luynes, and if I + break faith with the might I serve, it is because that might is an unjust + one; I do but betray the false to the true, and there can be little shame + in such an act. Moreover, I have a reason—but let that be.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a moment, then he resumed: + </p> + <p> + “Most of that which you have learnt from Malpertuis to-night, I myself + could have told you. Yes; St. Auban has carried Canaples's letter to the + Cardinal already. I heard from his lips to-day—for I was present at + the interview—how the document had been wrested from Malpertuis. For + your sake, so that you might learn all he knew, I sought the fellow out, + and having found him in the Rue des Tournelles, I took you thither.” + </p> + <p> + In a very fever of excitement I listened. + </p> + <p> + “To take up the thread of the story where Malpertuis left off, let me tell + you that St. Auban sought an audience with Mazarin this morning, and by + virtue of a note which he desired an usher to deliver to his Eminence, he + was admitted, the first of all the clients that for hours had thronged the + ante-room. As in the instance of the audience to Eugène de Canaples, so + upon this occasion did it chance that the Cardinal's fears touching St. + Auban's purpose had been roused, for he bade me stand behind the curtains + in his cabinet. + </p> + <p> + “The Marquis spoke bluntly enough, and with rude candour he stated that + since Mazarin had failed to bring the Canaples estates into his family by + marriage, he came to set before his Eminence a proof so utter of + Canaples's treason that it would enable him to snatch the estates by + confiscation. The Cardinal may have been staggered by St. Auban's + bluntness, but his avaricious instincts led him to stifle his feelings and + bid the Marquis to set this proof before him. But St. Auban had a bargain + to drive—a preposterous one methought. He demanded that in return + for his delivering into the hands of Mazarin the person of Armand de + Canaples together with an incontestable proof that the Chevalier was in + league with the frondeurs, and had offered to place a large sum of money + at their disposal, he was to receive as recompense the demesne of Canaples + on the outskirts of Blois, together with one third of the confiscated + estates. At first Mazarin gasped at his audacity, then laughed at him, + whereupon St. Auban politely craved his Eminence's permission to withdraw. + This the Cardinal, however, refused him, and bidding him remain, he sought + to bargain with him. But the Marquis replied that he was unversed in the + ways of trade and barter, and that he had no mind to enter into them. From + bargaining the Cardinal passed on to threatening and from threatening to + whining, and so on until the end—St. Auban preserving a firm + demeanour—the comedy was played out and Mazarin fell in with his + proposal and his terms. + </p> + <p> + “Mille diables!” I cried. “And has St. Auban set out?” + </p> + <p> + “He starts to-morrow, and I go with him. When finally the Cardinal had + consented, the Marquis demanded and obtained from him a promise in + writing, signed and sealed by Mazarin, that he should receive a third of + the Canaples estates and the demesne on the outskirts of Blois, in + exchange for the body of Armand de Canaples, dead or alive, and a proof of + treason sufficient to warrant his arrest and the confiscation of his + estates. Next, seeing in what regard the Seigneur is held by the people of + Blois, and fearing that his arrest might be opposed by many of his + adherents, the Marquis has demanded a troop of twenty men. This Mazarin + has also granted him, entrusting the command of the troop to me, under St. + Auban. Further, the Marquis has stipulated that the greatest secrecy is to + be observed, and has expressed his purpose of going upon this enterprise + disguised and masked, for—as he rightly opines—when months + hence he enters into possession of the demesne of Canaples in the + character of purchaser, did the Blaisois recognise in him the man who sold + the Chevalier, his life would stand in hourly peril.” + </p> + <p> + I heard him through patiently enough; yet when he stopped, my pent-up + feelings burst all bonds, and I resolved there and then to go in quest of + that Judas, St. Auban, and make an end of his plotting, for all time. But + Montrésor restrained me, showing me how futile such a course must prove, + and how I risked losing all chance of aiding those at Canaples. + </p> + <p> + He was right. First I must warn the Chevalier—afterwards I would + deal with St. Auban. + </p> + <p> + Someone knocked at that moment, and with the entrance of Michelot, my talk + with Montrésor came perforce to an end. For Michelot brought me the news + that for days I had been awaiting; Madame de Chevreuse had returned to + Paris at last. + </p> + <p> + But for Montrésor's remonstrances it is likely that I should have set out + forthwith to wait upon her. I permitted myself, however, to be persuaded + that the lateness of the hour would render my visit unwelcome, and so I + determined in the end—albeit grudgingly—to put off my + departure for Blois until the morrow. + </p> + <p> + Noon had but struck from Nôtre Dame, next day, as I mounted the steps of + the Hôtel de Luynes. My swagger, and that brave suit of pearl grey velvet + with its silver lace, bore me unchallenged past the gorgeous suisse, who + stood, majestic, in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + But, for the first mincing lackey I chanced upon, more was needed to gain + me an audience. And so, as I did not choose to speak my name, I drew a + ring from my finger and bade him bear it to the Duchesse. + </p> + <p> + He obeyed me in this, and presently returning, he bowed low and begged of + me to follow him, for, as I had thought, albeit Madame de Chevreuse might + not know to whom that ring belonged, yet the arms of Luynes carved upon + the stone had sufficed to ensure an interview. + </p> + <p> + I was ushered into a pretty boudoir, hung in blue and gold, which + overlooked the garden, and wherein, reclining upon a couch, with a book of + Bois Robert's verses in her white and slender hand, I found my beautiful + aunt. + </p> + <p> + Of this famous lady, who was the cherished friend and more than sister of + Anne of Austria, much has been written; much that is good, and more—far + more—that is ill, for those who have a queen for friend shall never + lack for enemies. But those who have praised and those who have censured + have at least been at one touching her marvellous beauty. At the time + whereof I write it is not possible that she could be less than forty-six, + and yet her figure was slender and shapely and still endowed with the + grace of girlhood; her face delicate of tint, and little marked by time—or + even by the sufferings to which, in the late king's reign, Cardinal de + Richelieu had subjected her; her eyes were blue and peaceful as a summer + sky; her hair was the colour of ripe corn. He would be a hardy guesser who + set her age at so much as thirty. + </p> + <p> + My appearance she greeted by letting fall her book, and lifting up her + hands—the loveliest in France—she uttered a little cry of + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Is it really you, Gaston?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Albeit it was growing wearisome to be thus greeted by all to whom I showed + myself, yet I studied courtesy in my reply, and then, 'neath the suasion + of her kindliness, I related all that had befallen me since first I had + journeyed to Blois, in Andrea de Mancini's company, withholding, however, + all allusions to my feelings towards Yvonne. Why betray them when they + were doomed to be stifled in the breast that begat them? But Madame de + Chevreuse had not been born a woman and lived six and forty years to no + purpose. + </p> + <p> + “And this maid with as many suitors as Penelope, is she very beautiful?” + she inquired slyly. + </p> + <p> + “France does not hold her equal,” I answered, falling like a simpleton + into the trap she had set me. + </p> + <p> + “This to me?” quoth she archly. “Fi donc, Gaston! Your evil ways have + taught you as little gallantry as dissimulation.” And her merry ripple of + laughter showed me how in six words I had betrayed that which I had been + at such pains to hide. + </p> + <p> + But before I could, by protestations, plunge deeper than I stood already, + the Duchesse turned the conversation adroitly to the matter of that letter + of hers, wherein she had bidden me wait upon her. + </p> + <p> + A cousin of mine—one Marion de Luynes, who, like myself, had, + through the evil of his ways, become an outcast from his family—was + lately dead. Unlike me, however, he was no adventurous soldier of fortune, + but a man of peace, with an estate in Provence that had a rent-roll of + five thousand livres a year. On his death-bed he had cast about him for an + heir, unwilling that his estate should swell the fortunes of the family + that in life had disowned him. Into his ear some kindly angel had + whispered my name, and the memory that I shared with him the frowns of our + house, and that my plight must be passing pitiful, had set up a bond of + sympathy between us, which had led him to will his lands to me. Of Madame + de Chevreuse—who clearly was the patron saint of those of her first + husband's nephews who chanced to tread ungodly ways—my cousin Marion + had besought that she should see to the fulfilment of his last wishes. + </p> + <p> + My brain reeled beneath the first shock of that unlooked-for news. Already + I saw myself transformed from a needy adventurer into a gentleman of + fortune, and methought my road to Yvonne lay open, all obstacles removed. + But swiftly there followed the thought of my own position, and truly it + seemed that a cruel irony lay in the manner wherein things had fallen out, + since did I declare myself to be alive and claim the Provence estates, the + Cardinal's claws would be quick to seize me. + </p> + <p> + Thus much I told Madame de Chevreuse, but her answer cheered me, and said + much for my late cousin's prudence. + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” she cried. “Marion was ever shrewd. Knowing that men who live by + the sword, as you have lived, are often wont to die by the sword,—and + that suddenly at times,—he has made provision that in the event of + your being dead his estates shall come to me, who have been the most + indulgent of his relatives. This, my dear Gaston, has already taken place, + for we believed you dead; and therein fortune has been kind to you, for + now, while receiving the revenues of your lands—which the world will + look upon as mine—I shall contrive that they reach you wherever you + may be, until such a time as you may elect to come to life again.” + </p> + <p> + Now but for the respect in which I held her, I could have taken the pretty + Duchesse in my arms and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + Restraining myself, however, I contented myself by kissing her hand, and + told her of the journey I was going, then craved another boon of her. No + matter what the issue of that journey, and whether I went alone or + accompanied, I was determined to quit France and repair to Spain. There I + would abide until the Parliament, the Court, or the knife of some chance + assassin, or even Nature herself should strip Mazarin of his power. + </p> + <p> + Now, at the Court of Spain it was well known that my aunt's influence was + vast, and so, the boon I craved was that she should aid me to a position + in the Spanish service that would allow me during my exile to find + occupation and perchance renown. To this my aunt most graciously acceded, + and when at length I took my leave—with such gratitude in my heart + that what words I could think of seemed but clumsily to express it—I + bore in the breast of my doublet a letter to Don Juan de Cordova—a + noble of great prominence at the Spanish Court—and in the pocket of + my haut-de-chausses a rouleau of two hundred gold pistoles, as welcome as + they were heavy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. OF MY SECOND JOURNEY TO CANAPLES + </h2> + <p> + An hour after I had quitted the Hôtel de Luynes, Michelot and I left Paris + by the barrier St. Michel and took the Orleans road. How different it + looked in the bright June sunshine, to the picture which it had presented + to our eyes on that February evening, four months ago, when last we had + set out upon that same journey! + </p> + <p> + Not only in nature had a change been wrought, but in my very self. My + journey then had been aimless, and I had scarcely known whither I was + bound nor had I fostered any great concern thereon. Now I rode in hot + haste with a determined purpose, a man of altered fortunes and altered + character. + </p> + <p> + Into Choisy we clattered at a brisk pace, but at the sight of the inn of + the Connétable such memories surged up that I was forced to draw rein and + call for a cup of Anjou, which I drank in the saddle. Thereafter we rode + without interruption through Longjumeau, Arpajon, and Etrechy, and so well + did we use our horses that as night fell we reached Étampes. + </p> + <p> + From inquiries that Michelot had made on the road, we learned that no + troop such as that which rode with St. Auban had lately passed that way, + so that 't was clear we were in front of them. + </p> + <p> + But scarce had we finished supper in the little room which I had hired at + the Gros Paon, when, from below, a stamping of hoofs, the jangle of arms, + and the shouts of many men told me that we were overtaken. + </p> + <p> + Clearly I did not burn with a desire to linger, but rather it seemed to me + that although night had closed in, black and moonless, we must set out + again, and push on to Monnerville, albeit our beasts were worn and the + distance a good three leagues. + </p> + <p> + With due precaution we effected our departure, and thereafter had a spur + been needed to speed us on our way that spur we had in the knowledge that + St. Auban came close upon our heels. At Monnerville we slept, and next + morning we were early afoot; by four o'clock in the afternoon we had + reached Orleans, whence—with fresh horses—we pursued our + journey as far as Meung, where we lay that night. + </p> + <p> + There we were joined by a sturdy rascal whom Michelot enlisted into my + service, seeing that not only did my means allow, but the enterprise upon + which I went might perchance demand another body servant. This recruit was + a swart, powerfully built man of about my own age; trusty, and a lover of + hard knocks, as Michelot—who had long counted him among his friends—assured + me. He owned the euphonious name of Abdon. + </p> + <p> + I spent twenty pistoles in suitable raiment and a horse for him, and as we + left Meung next day the knave cut a brave enough figure that added not a + little to my importance to have at my heels. + </p> + <p> + This, however, so retarded our departure, that night had fallen by the + time we reached Blois. Still our journey had been a passing swift one. We + had left Paris on a Monday, the fourth of June—I have good cause to + remember, since on that day I entered both upon my thirty-second year and + my altered fortunes; on the evening of Wednesday we reached Blois, having + covered a distance of forty-three leagues in less than three days. + </p> + <p> + Bidding Michelot carry my valise to the hostelry of the Vigne d'Or, and + there await my coming, I called to Abdon to attend me, and rode on, jaded + and travel-stained though I was, to Canaples, realising fully that there + was no time to lose. + </p> + <p> + Old Guilbert, who came in answer to my knock at the door of the château, + looked askance when he beheld me, and when I bade him carry my compliments + to the Chevalier, with the message that I desired immediate speech of him + on a matter of the gravest moment, he shook his grey head and protested + that it would be futile to obey me. Yet, in the end, when I had insisted, + he went upon my errand, but only to return with a disturbed countenance, + to tell me that the Chevalier refused to see me. + </p> + <p> + “But I must speak to him, Guilbert,” I exclaimed, setting foot upon the + top step. “I have travelled expressly from Paris.” + </p> + <p> + The man stood firm and again shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I beseech you not to insist, Monsieur. M. le Chevalier has sworn to + dismiss me if I permit you to set foot within the château.” + </p> + <p> + “Mille diables! This is madness! I seek to serve him,” I cried, my temper + rising fast. “At least, Guilbert, will you tell Mademoiselle that I am + here, and that I—” + </p> + <p> + “I may carry no more messages for you, Monsieur,” he broke in. “Listen! + There is M. le Chevalier.” + </p> + <p> + In reality I could hear the old knight's voice, loud and shrill with + anger, and a moment later Louis, his intendant, came across the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Guilbert,” he commanded harshly, “close the door. The night air is keen.” + </p> + <p> + My cheeks aflame with anger, I still made one last attempt to gain an + audience. + </p> + <p> + “Master Louis,” I exclaimed, “will you do me the favour to tell M. de + Canaples—” + </p> + <p> + “You are wasting time, Monsieur,” he interrupted. “M. de Canaples will not + see you. He bids you close the door, Guilbert.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu! he shall see me!” + </p> + <p> + “The door, Guilbert!” + </p> + <p> + I took a step forward, but before I could gain the threshold, the door was + slammed in my face, and as I stood there, quivering with anger and + disappointment, I heard the bolts being shot within. + </p> + <p> + I turned with an oath. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Abdon,” I growled, as I climbed once more into the saddle, “let us + leave the fool to the fate he has chosen.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. OF HOW ST. AUBAN CAME TO BLOIS + </h2> + <p> + In silence we rode back to Blois. Not that I lacked matter for + conversation. Anger and chagrin at the thought that I had come upon this + journey to earn naught but an insult and to have a door slammed in my face + made my gorge rise until it went near to choking me. I burned to revile + Canaples aloud, but Abdon's was not the ear into which I might pour the + hot words that welled up to my lips. + </p> + <p> + Yet if silent, the curses that I heaped upon the Chevalier's crassness + were none the less fervent, and to myself I thought with grim relish of + how soon and how dearly he would pay for the affront he had put upon me. + </p> + <p> + That satisfaction, however, endured not long; for presently I bethought me + of how heavily the punishment would fall upon Yvonne—and yet, of how + she would be left to the mercy of St. Auban, whose warrant from Mazarin + would invest with almost any and every power at Canaples. + </p> + <p> + I ground my teeth at the sudden thought, and for a moment I was on the + point of going back and forcing my way into the château at the sword point + if necessary, to warn and save the Chevalier in spite of himself and + unthanked. + </p> + <p> + It was not in such a fashion that I had thought to see my mission to + Canaples accomplished; I had dreamt of gratitude, and gratitude unbars the + door to much. Nevertheless, whether or not I earned it, I must return, and + succeed where for want of insistence I had failed awhile ago. + </p> + <p> + Of a certainty I should have acted thus, but that at the very moment upon + which I formed the resolution Abdon drew my attention to a dark shadow by + the roadside not twenty paces in front of us. This proved to be the + motionless figure of a horseman. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I was assured of it, I reined in my horse, and taking a pistol + from the holster, I levelled it at the shadow, accompanying the act by a + sonorous— + </p> + <p> + “Who goes there?” + </p> + <p> + The shadow stirred, and Michelot's voice answered me: + </p> + <p> + “'T is I, Monsieur. They have arrived. I came to warn you.” + </p> + <p> + “Who has arrived?” I shouted. + </p> + <p> + “The soldiers. They are lodged at the Lys de France.” + </p> + <p> + An oath was the only comment I made as I turned the news over in my mind. + I must return to Canaples. + </p> + <p> + Then another thought occurred to me. The Chevalier was capable of going to + extremes to keep me from entering his house; he might for instance greet + me with a blunderbuss. It was not the fear of that that deterred me, but + the fear that did a charge of lead get mixed with my poor brains before I + had said what I went to say, matters would be no better, and there would + be one poor knave the less to adorn the world. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do, Michelot?” I groaned, appealing in my despair to my + henchman. + </p> + <p> + “Might it not be well to seek speech with M. de Montrésor?” quoth he. + </p> + <p> + I shrugged my shoulders. Nevertheless, after a moment's deliberation I + determined to make the attempt; if I succeeded something might come of it. + </p> + <p> + And so I pushed on to Blois with my knaves close at my heels. + </p> + <p> + Up the Rue Vieille we proceeded with caution, for the hostelry of the + Vigne d'Or, where Michelot had hired me a room, fortunately overlooking + the street, fronted the Lys de France, where St. Auban and his men were + housed. + </p> + <p> + I gained that room of mine without mishap, and my first action was to deal + summarily with a fat and well-roasted capon which the landlord set before + me—for an empty stomach is a poor comrade in a desperate situation. + That meal, washed down with the best part of a bottle of red Anjou, did + much to restore me alike in body and in mind. + </p> + <p> + From my open window I gazed across the street at the Lys de France. The + door of the common-room, opening upon the street, was set wide, and across + the threshold came a flood of light in which there flitted the black + figures of maybe a dozen amazed rustics, drawn thither for all the world + as bats are drawn to a glare. + </p> + <p> + And there they hovered with open mouths and stupid eyes, hearkening to the + din of voices that floated out on the tranquil air, the snatches of ribald + songs, the raucous bursts of laughter, the clink of glasses, the clank of + steel, the rattle of dice, and the strange soldier oaths that fell with + every throw, and which to them must have sounded almost as words of some + foreign tongue. + </p> + <p> + Whilst I stood by my window, the landlord entered my room, and coming up + to me— + </p> + <p> + “Thank Heaven they are not housed at the Vigne d'Or,” he said. “It will + take Maître Bernard a week to rid his house of the stench of leather. They + are part of a stray company that is on its way to fight the Spaniards,” he + informed me. “But methinks they will be forced to spend two or three days + at Blois; their horses are sadly jaded and will need that rest before they + can take the road again, thanks to the pace at which their boy of an + officer must have led them. There is a gentleman with them who wears a + mask. 'T is whispered that he is a prince of the blood who has made a vow + not to uncover his face until this war be ended, in expiation of some sin + committed in mad Paris.” + </p> + <p> + I heard him in silence, and when he had done I thanked him for his + information. So! This was the story that the crafty St. Auban had spread + abroad to lull suspicion touching the real nature of their presence until + their horses should be fit to undertake the return journey to Paris, or + until he should have secured the person of M. de Canaples. + </p> + <p> + Towards eleven o'clock, as the lights in the hostelry opposite were + burning low, I descended, and made my way out into the now deserted + street. The troopers had apparently seen fit—or else been ordered—to + seek their beds, for the place had grown silent, and a servant was in the + act of making fast the door for the night. The porte-cochère was half + closed, and a man carrying a lantern was making fast the bolt, whistling + aimlessly to himself. Through the half of the door that was yet open, I + beheld a window from which the light fell upon a distant corner of the + courtyard. + </p> + <p> + I drew near the fellow with the lantern, in whom I recognised René, the + hostler, and as I approached he flashed the light upon my face; then with + a gasp—“M. de Luynes,” he exclaimed, remembering me from the time + when I had lodged at the Lys de France, three months ago. + </p> + <p> + “Sh!” I whispered, pressing a louis d'or into his hand. “Whose window is + that, René?” And I pointed towards the light. + </p> + <p> + “That,” he replied, “is the room of the lieutenant and the gentleman in + the mask.” + </p> + <p> + “I must take a look at them, René, and whilst I am looking I shall search + my pocket for another louis. Now let me in.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare not, Monsieur. Maître Bernard may call me, and if the doors are + not closed—” + </p> + <p> + “Dame!” I broke in. “I shall stay but a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “And you will have easily earned a louis d'or. If Bernard calls you—peste, + tell him that you have let fall something, and that you are seeking it. + There, let me pass.” + </p> + <p> + I got past him at last, and made my way swiftly towards the other end of + the quadrangle. + </p> + <p> + As I approached, the sound of voices smote my ear, for the lighted window + stood open. I stopped within half a dozen paces of it, and climbed on to + the step of a coach that stood there. Thence I could look straight into + the room, whilst the darkness hid me from the eyes of those I watched. + </p> + <p> + Three men there were; Montrésor, the sergeant of his troop, and a tall man + dressed in black, and wearing a black silk mask. This I concluded to be + St. Auban, despite the profusion of fair locks that fell upon his + shoulders, concealing—I rightly guessed—his natural hair, + which was as black as my own. It was a cunning addition to his disguise, + and one well calculated to lead people on to the wrong scent hereafter. + </p> + <p> + Presently, as I watched them, St. Auban spoke, and his voice was that of a + man whose gums are toothless, or else whose nether lip is drawn in over + his teeth whilst he speaks. Here again the dissimulation was as effective + as it was simple. + </p> + <p> + “So; that is concluded,” were the words that reached me. “To-morrow we + will install our men at the château, for while we remain here it is + preposterous to lodge them at an inn. On the following day I hope that we + may be able to set out again.” + </p> + <p> + “If we could obtain fresh horses—” began the sergeant, when he of + the mask interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Sangdieu! Think you my purse is bottomless? We return as we came, with + the Cardinal's horses. What signify a day or two, after all? Come—call + the landlord to light me to my room.” + </p> + <p> + I had heard enough. But more than that, whilst I listened, an idea had of + a sudden sprung up in my mind which did away with the necessity of gaining + speech with Montresor—a contingency, moreover, that now presented + insuperable difficulties. + </p> + <p> + So I got down softly from my perch and made my way out of the yard, and, + after fulfilling my part of the bargain with René, across to the Vigne + d'Or and to my room, there to sit and mature the plan that of a sudden I + had conceived. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. OF THE PASSING OF ST. AUBAN + </h2> + <p> + Dame! What an ado there was next day in Blois, when the news came that the + troopers had installed themselves at the Château de Canaples and that the + Chevalier had been arrested for treason by order of the Lord Cardinal, and + that he would be taken to Paris, and—probably—the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + Men gathered in little knots at street corners, and with sullen brows and + threatening gestures they talked of the affair; and the more they talked, + the more clouded grew their looks, and more than one anti-cardinalist + pasquinade was heard in Blois that day. + </p> + <p> + Given a leader those men would have laid hands upon pikes and muskets, and + gone to the Chevalier's rescue. As I observed them, the thought did cross + my mind that I might contrive a pretty fight in the rose garden of + Canaples were I so inclined. And so inclined I should, indeed, have been + but for the plan that had come to me like an inspiration from above, and + which methought would prove safer in the end. + </p> + <p> + To carry out this plan of mine, I quitted Blois at nightfall, with my two + knaves, having paid my reckoning at the Lys de France, and given out that + we were journeying to Tours. We followed the road that leads to Canaples, + until we reached the first trees bordering the park. There I dismounted, + and, leaving Abdon to guard the horses, I made my way on foot, accompanied + by Michelot, towards the garden. + </p> + <p> + We gained this, and were on the point of quitting the shadow of the trees, + when of a sudden, by the light of the crescent moon, I beheld a man + walking in one of the alleys, not a hundred paces from where we stood. I + had but time to seize Michelot by the collar of his pourpoint and draw him + towards me. But as he trod precipitately backwards a twig snapped 'neath + his foot with a report that in the surrounding stillness was like a pistol + shot. + </p> + <p> + I caught my breath as he who walked in the garden stood still, his face, + wrapped in the shadows of his hat, turned towards us. + </p> + <p> + “Who goes there?” he shouted. Then getting no reply he came resolutely + forward, whilst I drew a pistol wherewith to welcome him did he come too + near. + </p> + <p> + On he came, and already I had brought my pistol to a level with his head, + when fortunately he repeated his question, “Who goes there?”—and + this time I recognised the voice of Montrésor, the very man I could then + most wish to meet. + </p> + <p> + “Hist! Montrésor!” I called softly. “'T is I—Luynes.” + </p> + <p> + “So!” he exclaimed, coming close up to me. “You have reached Canaples at + last!” + </p> + <p> + “At last?” I echoed. + </p> + <p> + “Whom have you there?” he inquired abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Only Michelot.” + </p> + <p> + “Bid him fall behind a little.” + </p> + <p> + When Michelot had complied with this request, “You see, M. de Luynes,” + quoth the officer, “that you have arrived too late.” + </p> + <p> + There was a certain coldness in his tone that made me seek by my reply to + sound him. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I trust not, my friend. With your assistance I hope to get M. de + Canaples from the clutches of St. Auban.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “It is impossible that I should help you,” he replied with increasing + coldness. “Already once for your sake have I broken faith to those who pay + me, by setting you in a position to forestall St. Auban and get M. de + Canaples away before his arrival. Unfortunately, you have dallied on the + road, M. de Luynes, and Canaples is already a prisoner—a doomed one, + I fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that your last word, Montrésor?” I inquired sadly. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” he answered in softened tones, “but you must see that I + cannot do otherwise. I warned you; more you cannot expect of me.” + </p> + <p> + I sighed, and stood musing for an instant. Then—“You are right, + Montrésor. Nevertheless, I am still grateful to you for the warning you + gave me in Paris. God pity and help Canaples! Adieu, Montrésor. I do not + think that you will see me again.” + </p> + <p> + He took my hand, but as he did so he pushed me back into the shadow from + which I had stepped to proffer it him. + </p> + <p> + “Peste!” he ejaculated. “The moon was full upon your face, and did St. + Auban chance to look out, he must have seen you.” + </p> + <p> + I followed the indication of his thumb, and noted the lighted window to + which he pointed. A moment later he was gone, and as I joined Michelot, I + chuckled softly to myself. + </p> + <p> + For two hours and more I sat in the shrubbery, conversing in whispers with + Michelot, and watching the lights in the château die out one by one, until + St. Auban's window, which opened on to the terrace balcony, was the only + one that was not wrapt in darkness. + </p> + <p> + I waited a little while longer, then rising I cautiously made a tour of + inspection. Peace reigned everywhere, and the only sign of life was the + sentry, who with musket on shoulder paced in front of the main entrance, a + silent testimony of St. Auban's mistrust of the Blaisois and of his fears + of a possible surprise. + </p> + <p> + Satisfied that everyone slept I retraced my steps to the shrubbery where + Michelot awaited me, watching the square of light, and after exchanging + word with him, I again stepped forth. + </p> + <p> + When I was half way across the intervening space of garden, treading with + infinite precaution, a dark shadow obscured the window, which a second + later was thrown open. Crouching hastily behind a boxwood hedge, I watched + St. Auban—for I guessed that he it was—as he leaned out and + gazed skywards. + </p> + <p> + For a little while he remained there, then he withdrew, leaving the + casement open, and presently I caught the grating of a chair on the + parquet floor within. If ever the gods favoured mortal, they favoured me + at that moment. + </p> + <p> + Stealthily as a cat I sprang towards the terrace, the steps to which I + climbed on hands and knees. Stooping, I sped silently across it until I + had gained the flower-bed immediately below the window that had drawn me + to it. Crouching there—for did I stand upright my chin would be on a + level with the sill—I paused to listen for some moments. The only + sound I caught was a rustle, as of paper. Emboldened, I took a deep + breath, and standing up I gazed straight into the chamber. + </p> + <p> + By the light of four tapers in heavy silver sconces, I beheld St. Auban + seated at a table littered with parchments, over which he was intently + poring. His back was towards me, and his long black hair hung straight + upon his shoulders. On the table, amid the papers, lay his golden wig and + black mask, and on the floor in the centre of the room, his back and + breast of blackened steel and his sword. + </p> + <p> + It needed but little shrewdness to guess those parchments before him to be + legal documents touching the Canaples estates, and his occupation that of + casting up exactly what profit he would reap from his infamous work of + betrayal. + </p> + <p> + So intent was the hound upon his calculations that my cautious movements + passed unheeded by him as I got astride of the window ledge. It was only + when I swung my right leg into the room that he turned his head, but + before his eyes reached me I was standing upright and motionless within + the chamber. + </p> + <p> + I have seen fear of many sorts writ large upon the faces of men of many + conditions—from the awe that blanches the cheek of the boy soldier + when first he hears the cannon thundering to the terror that glazes the + eye of the vanquished swordsman who at every moment expects the deadly + point in his heart. But never had I gazed upon a countenance filled with + such abject ghastly terror as that which came over St. Auban's when his + eyes met mine that night. + </p> + <p> + He sprang up with an inarticulate cry that sank into something that I can + but liken to the rattle which issues from the throat of expiring men. For + a second he stood where he had risen, then terror loosened his knees, and + he sank back into his chair. His mouth fell open, and the trembling lips + were drawn down at the corners like those of a sobbing child; his cheeks + turned whiter than the lawn collar at his throat, and his eyes, wide open + in a horrid stare, were fixed on mine and, powerless to avert them, he met + my gaze—cold, stern, and implacable. + </p> + <p> + For a moment we remained thus, and I marvelled greatly to see a man whose + heart, if full of evil, I had yet deemed stout enough, stricken by fear + into so parlous and pitiful a condition. + </p> + <p> + Then I had the explanation of it as he lifted his right hand and made the + sign of the cross, first upon himself, then in the air, whilst his lips + moved, and I guessed that to himself he was muttering some prayer of + exorcising purport. There was the solution of the terror—sweat that + stood out in beads upon his brow—he had deemed me a spectre; the + spectre of a man he believed to have foully done to death on a spot across + the Loire visible from the window at my back. + </p> + <p> + At last he sufficiently mastered himself to break the awful silence. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” he whispered; then, his voice gaining power as he used + it—“Speak,” he commanded. “Man or devil, speak!” + </p> + <p> + I laughed for answer, harshly, mockingly; for never had I known a fiercer, + crueller mood. At the sound of that laugh, satanical though may have been + its ring, he sprang up again, and unsheathing a dagger he took a step + towards me. + </p> + <p> + “We shall see of what you are made,” he cried. “If you blast me in the + act, I'll strike you!” + </p> + <p> + I laughed again, and raising my arm I gave him the nozzle of a pistol to + contemplate. + </p> + <p> + “Stand where you are, St. Auban, or, by the God above us, I'll send your + ghost a-wandering,” quoth I coolly. + </p> + <p> + My voice, which I take it had nothing ghostly in it, and still more the + levelled pistol, which of all implements is the most unghostly, dispelled + his dread. The colour crept slowly back to his cheeks, and his mouth + closed with a snap of determination. + </p> + <p> + “Is it, indeed, you, master meddler?” he said. “Peste! I thought you dead + these three months.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are overcome with joy to find that you were in error, eh, + Marquis? We Luynes die hard.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems so, indeed,” he answered with a cool effrontery past crediting + in one who but a moment ago had looked so pitiful. “What do you seek at + Canaples?” + </p> + <p> + “Many things, Marquis. You among others.” + </p> + <p> + “You have come to murder me,” he cried, and again alarm overspread his + countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Hoity, toity, Marquis! We do not all follow the same trade. Who talks of + murder? Faugh!” + </p> + <p> + Again he took a step towards me, but again the nozzle of my pistol drove + him back. To have pistoled him there and then as he deserved would have + brought the household about my ears, and that would have defeated my + object. To have fallen upon him and slain him with silent steel would have + equally embarrassed me, as you shall understand anon. + </p> + <p> + “You and I had a rendezvous at St. Sulpice des Reaux,” I said calmly, “to + which you came with a band of hired assassins. For this you deserve to be + shot like the dog you are. But I have it in my heart to be generous to + you,” I added in a tone of irony. “Come, take up your sword.” + </p> + <p> + “To what purpose?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you question me? Take up your sword, man, and do my bidding; thus + shall you have a slender chance of life. Refuse and I pistol you without + compunction. So now put on that wig and mask.” + </p> + <p> + When he obeyed me in this—“Now listen, St. Auban,” I said. “You and + I are going together to that willow copse whither three months ago you + lured Yvonne de Canaples for the purpose of abducting her. On that spot + you and I shall presently face each other sword in hand, with none other + to witness our meeting save God, in whose hands the issue lies. That is + your chance; at the first sign that you meditate playing me any tricks, + that chance is lost to you.” And I tapped my pistol significantly. “Now + climb out through that window.” + </p> + <p> + When he had done so, I bade him stand six paces away whilst I followed, + and to discourage any foolish indiscretion on his part I again showed him + my pistol. + </p> + <p> + He answered me with an impatient gesture, and by the light that fell on + his face I saw him sneer. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, you fool,” he snarled, “and have done threatening. I'll talk to + you in the copse. And tread softly lest you arouse the sentry on the other + side.” + </p> + <p> + Rejoiced to see the man so wide awake in him, I followed him closely + across the terrace, and through the rose garden to the bank of the river. + This we followed until we came at last to the belt of willows, where, + having found a suitable patch of even and springy turf, I drew my sword + and invited him to make ready. + </p> + <p> + “Will you not strip?” he inquired sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think so,” I answered. “The night air is sharp. Nevertheless, do + you make ready as best you deem fit, and that speedily, Monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + With an exclamation of contempt, he divested himself of his wig, mask, and + doublet, then drawing his sword, he came forward, and announced himself at + my disposal. + </p> + <p> + As well you may conceive, we wasted no time in compliments, but + straightway went to work, and that with a zest that drew sparks from our + rapiers at the first contact. + </p> + <p> + The Marquis attacked me furiously, and therein lay his only chance; for a + fierce, rude sword-play that is easily dealt with in broad daylight is + vastly discomposing in such pale moonshine as lighted us. I defended + myself warily, for of a sudden I had grown conscious of the danger that I + ran did he once by luck or strength get past my guard with that point of + his which in the spare light I could not follow closely enough to feel + secure. + </p> + <p> + 'Neath the fury of his onslaught I was compelled to break ground more than + once, and each time he was so swift to follow up his advantage that I had + ne'er a chance to retaliate. + </p> + <p> + Still fear or doubt of the issue I had none. I needed but to wait until + the Marquis's fury was spent by want of breath, to make an end of it. And + presently that which I waited for came about. His attack began to lag in + vigour, and the pressure of his blade to need less resistance, whilst his + breathing grew noisy as that of a broken-winded horse. Then with the rage + of a gambler who loses at every throw, he cursed and reviled me with every + thrust or lunge that I turned aside. + </p> + <p> + My turn was come; yet I held back, and let him spend his strength to the + utmost drop, whilst with my elbow close against my side and by an easy + play of wrist, I diverted each murderous stroke of his point that came + again and again for my heart. + </p> + <p> + When at last he had wasted in blasphemies what little breath his wild + exertions had left him, I let him feel on his blade the twist that + heralded my first riposte. He caught the thrust, and retreated a step, his + blasphemous tongue silenced, and his livid face bathed in perspiration. + </p> + <p> + Cruelly I toyed with him then, and with every disengagement I made him + realise that he was mastered, and that if I withheld the coup de grâce it + was but to prolong his agony. And to add to the bitterness of that agony + of his, I derided him whilst I fenced; with a recitation of his many sins + I mocked him, showing him how ripe he was for hell, and asking him how it + felt to die unshriven with such a load upon his soul. + </p> + <p> + Goaded to rage by my bitter words, he grit his teeth, and gathered what + rags of strength were left him for a final effort, And before I knew what + he was about, he had dropped on to his left knee, and with his body thrown + forward and supported within a foot of the ground by his left arm, he + came, like a snake, under my guard with his point directed upwards. + </p> + <p> + So swift had been this movement and so unlooked-for, that had I not sprung + backwards in the very nick of time, this narrative of mine had ne'er been + written. With a jeering laugh I knocked aside his sword, but even as I + disengaged, to thrust at him, he knelt up and caught my blade in his left + hand, and for all that it ate its way through the flesh to the very bones + of his fingers, he clung to it with that fierce strength and blind courage + that is born of despair. + </p> + <p> + Then raising himself on his knees again, he struck at me wildly. I swung + aside, and as his sword, missing its goal, shot past me, I caught his + wrist in a grip from which I contemptuously invited him to free himself. + With that began a fierce tugging and panting on both sides, which, + however, was of short duration, for presently, my blade, having severed + the last sinew of his fingers, was set free. Simultaneously I let go his + wrist, pushing his arm from me so violently that in his exhausted + condition it caused him to fall over on his side. + </p> + <p> + In an instant, however, he was up and at me again. Again our swords + clashed—but once only. It was time to finish. With a vigorous + disengagement I got past his feeble guard and sent my blade into him full + in the middle of his chest and out again at his back until a foot or so of + glittering steel protruded. + </p> + <p> + A shudder ran through him, and his mouth worked oddly, whilst + spasmodically he still sought, without avail, to raise his sword; then as + I recovered my blade, a half-stifled cry broke from his lips, and throwing + up his arms, he staggered and fell in a heap. + </p> + <p> + As I turned him over to see if he were dead, his eyes met mine, and were + full of piteous entreaty; his lips moved, and presently I caught the + words: + </p> + <p> + “I am sped, Luynes.” Then struggling up, and in a louder voice: “A + priest!” he gasped. “Get me a priest, Luynes. Jesu! Have mer—” + </p> + <p> + A rush of blood choked him and cut short his utterance. He writhed and + twitched for a moment, then his chin sank forward and he fell back, death + starkening his limbs and glazing the eyes which stared hideously upwards + at the cold, pitiless moon. + </p> + <p> + Such was the passing of the Marquis César de St. Auban. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. PLAY-ACTING + </h2> + <p> + For a little while I stood gazing down at my work, my mind full of the + unsolvable mysteries of life and death; then I bethought me that time + stood not still for me, and that something yet remained to be accomplished + ere my evening's task were done. + </p> + <p> + And forthwith I made shift to do a thing at the memory of which my blood + is chilled and my soul is filled with loathing even now—albeit the + gulf of many years separates me from that June night at Canaples. + </p> + <p> + To pass succinctly o'er an episode on which I have scant heart to tarry, + suffice it you to know that using my sash as a rope I bound a heavy stone + to St. Auban's ankle; then lifting the body in my arms, I half dragged, + half bore it across the little stretch of intervening sward to the water's + edge, and flung it in. + </p> + <p> + As I write I have the hideous picture in my mind, and again I can see St. + Auban's ghastly face grinning up at me through the moonlit waters, until + at last it was mercifully swallowed up in their black depths, and naught + but a circling wavelet that spread swiftly across the stream was left to + tell of what had chanced. + </p> + <p> + I dare not dwell upon the feelings that assailed me as I stooped to rinse + the blood from my hands, nor yet of the feverish haste wherewith I tore my + blood-stained doublet from my back, and hurled it wide into the stream. + For all my callousness I was sick and unmanned by that which had befallen. + </p> + <p> + No time, however, did I waste in mawkish sentiment, but setting my teeth + hard, I turned away from the river, and back to the trampled ground of our + recent conflict. There, with no other witness save the moon, I clad myself + in the Marquis's doublet of black velvet; I set his mask of silk upon my + face, his golden wig upon my head, and over that his sable hat with its + drooping feather. Next I buckled on his sword belt, wherefrom hung his + rapier that I had sheathed. + </p> + <p> + In Blois that day I had taken the precaution—knowing the errand upon + which I came—to procure myself haut-de-chausses of black velvet, and + black leather boots with gilt spurs that closely resembled those which St. + Auban had worn in life. + </p> + <p> + Now, as I have already written, St. Auban and I were of much the same + build and stature, and so methought with confidence that he would have + shrewd eyes, indeed, who could infer from my appearance that I was other + than the same masked gentleman who had that very day ridden into Canaples + at the head of a troop of his Eminence's guards. + </p> + <p> + I made my way swiftly back along the path that St. Auban and I had + together trodden but a little while ago, and past the château until I came + to the shrubbery where Michelot—faithful to the orders I had given + him—awaited my return. From his concealment he had seen me leave the + château with the Marquis, and as I suddenly loomed up before him now, he + took me for the man whose clothes I wore, and naturally enough assumed + that ill had befallen Gaston de Luynes. Of a certainty I had been + pistolled by him had I not spoken in time. I lingered but to give him + certain necessary orders; then, whilst he went off to join Abdon and see + to their fulfilment, I made my way stealthily, with eyes keeping watch + around me, across the terrace, and through the window into the room that + St. Auban had left to follow me to his death. + </p> + <p> + The tapers still burned, and in all respects the chamber was as it had + been; the back and breast pieces still lay upon the floor, and on the + table the littered documents. The door I ascertained had been locked on + the inside, a precaution which St. Auban had no doubt taken so that none + might spy upon the work that busied him. + </p> + <p> + I closed and made fast the window, then I bethought me that, being in + ignorance of the whereabouts of St. Auban's bed-chamber, I must perforce + spend the night as best I could within that very room. + </p> + <p> + And so I sat me down and pondered deeply o'er the work that was to come, + the part I was about to play, and the details of its playing. In this + manner did I while away perchance an hour; through the next one I must + have slept, for I awakened with a start to find three tapers spent and the + last one spluttering, and in the sky the streaks that heralded the summer + dawn. + </p> + <p> + Again I fell to thinking; again I slept, and woke again to find the night + gone and the sunlight on my face. Someone knocked at the door, and that + knocking vibrated through my brain and set me wide-awake, indeed. It was + as the signal to uplift the curtain and let my play-acting commence. + </p> + <p> + Hastily I rose and shot a glance at the mirror to see that my wig hung + straight and that my mask was rightly adjusted. I started at my own + reflection, for methought that from the glass 't was St. Auban who looked + at me, as I had seen him look the night before when he had donned those + things at my command. + </p> + <p> + “Holà there, within!” came Montrésor's voice. “Monsieur le Capitaine!” A + fresh shower of blows descended on the oak panels. + </p> + <p> + I yawned with prodigious sonority, and overturned a chair with my foot. + Then bracing myself for the ordeal, through which I looked to what scant + information I possessed and my own mother wit, to bear me successfully, I + strode across to admit my visitor. + </p> + <p> + Muffling my voice, as I had heard St. Auban do at the inn, by drawing my + nether lip over my teeth— + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu!” quoth I, as I opened the door, “it seems, Lieutenant, that I + must have fallen asleep over those musty documents.” + </p> + <p> + I trembled as I watched him, waiting for his reply, and I thanked Heaven + that in the rôle I had assumed a mask was worn, not only because it hid my + features, but because it hid the emotions which these might have betrayed. + </p> + <p> + “I was beginning to fear,” he replied coldly, and without so much as + looking at me, “that worse had befallen you.” + </p> + <p> + I breathed again. + </p> + <p> + “You mean—?” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, nothing,” said he half contemptuously. “Only methinks 't were well + whilst we remain at Canaples that you do not spend your nights in a room + within such easy access of the terrace.” + </p> + <p> + “Your advice no doubt is sound, but as I shall not spend another night at + Canaples, it comes too late.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean, Monsieur—?” + </p> + <p> + “That we set out for Paris to-day.” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ça! I have just visited the stables, and there are not four horses + fit for the journey. So that unless you have in mind the purchase of fresh + animals—” + </p> + <p> + “Pish! My purse is not bottomless,” I broke in, repeating the very words + that I heard St. Auban utter. + </p> + <p> + “So you said once before, Monsieur. Still, unless you are prepared to take + that course, the only alternative is to remain here until the horses are + sufficiently recovered. But perhaps you think of walking?” he added with a + sniff. + </p> + <p> + “Such is your opinion, your time being worthless and it being of little + moment where you spend it. I have conceived a plan.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “Has it not occurred to you that the danger which threatens us and which + calls for the protection of a troop is only on this side of the Loire, + where the Blaisois might be minded to attempt a rescue of the Chevalier? + But over yonder, Chevalier, on the Chambord side, who cares a fig for the + Lord of Canaples or his fate? None; is it not so?” + </p> + <p> + He made an assenting gesture, whereupon I continued: + </p> + <p> + “This being so, I have bethought me that it will suffice if I take but + three or four men and the sergeant as an escort, and cross the river with + our prisoner after nightfall, travelling along the opposite shore until we + reach Orleans. What think you, Lieutenant?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders again. + </p> + <p> + “'T is you who command here,” he answered with apathy, “not I.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, do you not think the plan a safe one, as well as one that + will allay his Eminence's very natural impatience?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is safe enough, I doubt not,” he replied coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Your enthusiasm determines me,” quoth I, with an irony that made him + wince. “And we will follow the plan, since you agree with me touching its + excellence. But keep the matter to yourself until an hour or so after + sunset.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed, so utterly my dupe that I could have laughed at him. Then—“There + is a little matter that I would mention,” he said. “Mademoiselle de + Canaples has expressed a wish to accompany her father to Paris and has + asked me whether this will be permitted her.” + </p> + <p> + My heart leaped. Surely the gods fought on my side! + </p> + <p> + “I cannot permit it,” I answered icily. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, you are pitiless,” he protested in a tone of indignation for + which I would gladly have embraced him. + </p> + <p> + I feigned to ponder. + </p> + <p> + “The matter needs consideration. Tell Mademoiselle that I will discuss it + with her at noon, if she will condescend to await me on the terrace; I + will then give her my definite reply. And now, Lieutenant, let us + breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + As completely as I had duped Montrésor did I presently dupe those of the + troopers with whom I came in contact, among others the sergeant—and + anon the Chevalier himself. + </p> + <p> + From the brief interview that I had with him I discovered that whilst he + but vaguely suspected me to be St. Auban—and when I say “he + suspected me” I mean he suspected him whose place I had taken—he + was, nevertheless, aware of the profit which his captor, whoever he might + be, derived from this business. It soon grew clear to me from what he said + that St. Auban had mocked him with it whilst concealing his identity; that + he had told him how he had obtained from Malpertuis the treasonable + letter, and of the bargain which it had enabled him to strike with + Mazarin. I did not long remain in his company, and, deeming the time not + yet ripe for disclosures, I said little in answer to his lengthy tirades, + which had, I guessed, for scope to trap me into betraying the identity he + but suspected. + </p> + <p> + It wanted a few minutes to noon as I left the room in which the old + nobleman was confined, and by the door of which a trooper was stationed, + musket on shoulder. With every pulse a-throbbing at the thought of my + approaching interview with Mademoiselle, I made my way below and out into + the bright sunshine, the soldiers I chanced to meet saluting me as I + passed them. + </p> + <p> + On the terrace I found Mademoiselle already awaiting me. She was standing, + as often I had seen her stand, with her back turned towards me and her + elbows resting upon the balustrade. But as my step sounded behind her, she + turned, and stood gazing at me with a face so grief-stricken and pale that + I burned to unmask and set her torturing fears at rest. I doffed my hat + and greeted her with a silent bow, which she contemptuously disregarded. + </p> + <p> + “My lieutenant tells me, Mademoiselle,” said I in my counterfeited voice, + “that it is your desire to bear Monsieur your father company upon this + journey of his to Paris.” + </p> + <p> + “With your permission, sir,” she answered in a choking voice. + </p> + <p> + “It is a matter for consideration, Mademoiselle,” I pursued. “There are in + it many features that may have escaped you, and which I shall discuss with + you if you will honour me by stepping into the garden below.” + </p> + <p> + “Why will not the terrace serve?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I may have that to say which I would not have overheard.” + </p> + <p> + She knit her brows and stared at me as though she would penetrate the + black cloth that hid my face. At last she shrugged her shoulders, and + letting her arms fall to her side in a gesture of helplessness and + resignation— + </p> + <p> + “Soit; I will go with you,” was all she said. + </p> + <p> + Side by side we went down the steps as a pair of lovers might have gone, + save that her face was white and drawn, and that her eyes looked straight + before her, and never once, until we reached the gravel path below, at her + companion. Side by side we walked along one of the rose-bordered alleys, + until at length I stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” I said, speaking in the natural tones of that + good-for-naught Gaston de Luynes, “I have already decided, and you have my + permission to accompany your father.” + </p> + <p> + At the sound of my voice she started, and with her left hand clutching at + the region of her heart, she stood, her head thrust forward, and on her + face the look of one who is confronted with some awful doubt. That look + was brief, however, and swift to replace it was one of hideous revelation. + </p> + <p> + “In God's name, who are you?” she cried in accents that bespoke internal + agony. + </p> + <p> + “Already you have guessed it, Mademoiselle,” I answered, and I would have + added that which should have brought comfort to her distraught mind, when— + </p> + <p> + “You!” she gasped in a voice of profound horror. “You! You, the Judas who + has sold my father to the Cardinal for a paltry share in our estates. And + I believed that mask of yours to hide the face of St. Auban!” + </p> + <p> + Her words froze me into a stony mass of insensibility. There was no logic + in my attitude; I see it now. Appearances were all against me, and her + belief no more than justified. I overlooked all this, and instead of + saving time by recounting how I came to be there and thus delivering her + from the anguish that was torturing her, I stood, dumb and cruel, cut to + the quick by her scorn and her suspicions that I was capable of such a + thing as she imputed, and listening to the dictates of an empty pride that + prompted me to make her pay full penalty. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, God pity me!” she wailed. “Have you naught to say?” + </p> + <p> + Still I maintained my mad, resentful silence. And presently, as one who + muses— + </p> + <p> + “You!” she said again. “You, whom I—” She stopped short. “Oh! The + shame of it!” she moaned. + </p> + <p> + Reason at last came uppermost, and as in my mind I completed her broken + sentence, my heart gave a great throb and I was thawed to a gentler + purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + But even as I spoke, she turned, and sweeping aside her gown that it might + not touch me, she moved rapidly towards the steps we had just descended. + Full of remorse, I sprang after her. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle! Hear me,” I cried, and put forth my hand to stay her. + Thereat she wheeled round and faced me, a blaze of fury in her grey eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Dare not to touch me,” she panted. “You thief, you hound!” + </p> + <p> + I recoiled, and, like one turned to stone, I stood and watched her mount + the steps, my feelings swaying violently between anger and sorrow. Then my + eye fell upon Montrésor standing on the topmost step, and on his face + there was a sneering, insolent smile which told me that he had heard the + epithets she had bestowed upon me. + </p> + <p> + Albeit I sought that day another interview with Yvonne, I did not gain it, + and so I was forced to sun myself in solitude upon the terrace. But I + cherished for my consolation that broken sentence of hers, whereby I read + that the coldness which she had evinced for me before I left Canaples had + only been assumed. + </p> + <p> + And presently as I recalled what talks we had had, and one in particular + from which it now appeared to me that her coldness had sprung, a light + seemed suddenly to break upon my mind, as perchance it hath long ago + broken upon the minds of those who may happen upon these pages, and whose + wits in matters amorous are of a keener temper than were mine. + </p> + <p> + I who in all things had been arrogant, presumptuous, and self-satisfied, + had methought erred for once through over-humility. + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, even as I sat and pondered on that June day, it seemed to me + a thing incredible that she whom I accounted the most queenly and superb + of women should have deigned to grant a tender thought to one so mean, so + far beneath her as I had ever held myself to be. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. REPARATION + </h2> + <p> + Things came to pass that night as I had planned, and the fates which of + late had smiled upon me were kind unto the end. + </p> + <p> + Soon after ten, and before the moon had risen, a silent procession wended + its way from the château to the river. First went Montrésor and two of his + men; next came the Chevalier with Mademoiselle, and on either side of them + a trooper; whilst I, in head-piece and back and breast of steel, went last + with Mathurin, the sergeant—who warmly praised the plan I had + devised for the conveyance of M. de Canaples to Paris without further loss + of time. + </p> + <p> + Two boats which I had caused to be secretly procured were in readiness, + and by these a couple of soldiers awaited us, holding the bridles of eight + horses, one of which was equipped with a lady's saddle. Five of these + belonged—or had belonged—to the Chevalier, whilst the others + were three of those that had brought the troop from Paris, and which I, in + the teeth of all protestations, had adjudged sufficiently recovered for + the return journey. + </p> + <p> + The embarkation was safely effected, M. de Canaples and Mademoiselle in + one boat with Montrésor, Mathurin, and myself; the sergeant took the oars; + Montrésor and I kept watch over our prisoner. In the other boat came the + four troopers, who were to accompany us, and one other who was to take the + boats, and Montrésor in them, back to Canaples. For the lieutenant was + returning, so that he might, with the remainder of the troop, follow us to + Paris so soon as the condition of the horses would permit it. + </p> + <p> + The beasts we took with us were swimming the stream, guided and upheld by + the men in the other boat. + </p> + <p> + Just as the moon began to show her face our bow grated on the shore at the + very point where I had intended that we should land. I sprang out and + turned to assist Mademoiselle. + </p> + <p> + But, disdaining my proffered hand, she stepped ashore unaided. The + Chevalier came next, and after him Montrésor and Mathurin. + </p> + <p> + Awhile we waited until the troopers brought their boat to land, then when + they had got the snorting animals safely ashore, I bade them look to the + prisoner, and requested Montrésor and Mathurin to step aside with me, as I + had something to communicate to them. + </p> + <p> + Walking between the pair, I drew them some twenty paces away from the + group by the water, towards a certain thicket in which I had bidden + Michelot await me. + </p> + <p> + “It has occurred to me, Messieurs,” I began, speaking slowly and + deliberately as we paced along,—“it has occurred to me that despite + all the precautions taken to carry out my Lord Cardinal's wishes—a + work at least in which you, yourselves, have evinced a degree of zeal that + I cannot too highly commend to his Eminence—the possibility yet + remains of some mistake of trivial appearance, of some slight flaw that + might yet cause the miscarriage of those wishes.” + </p> + <p> + They turned towards me, and although I could not make out the expressions + of their faces, in the gloom, yet I doubted not but that they were puzzled + ones at that lengthy and apparently meaningless harangue. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant was the first to speak, albeit I am certain that he + understood the less. + </p> + <p> + “I venture, M. le Capitaine, to think that your fears, though very + natural, are groundless.” + </p> + <p> + “Say you so?” quoth I, with a backward glance to assure myself that we + were screened by the trees from the eyes of those behind us. “Say you so? + Well, well, mayhap you are right, though you speak of my fears being + groundless. I alluded to some possible mistake of yours—yours and M. + de Montrésor's—not of mine. And, by Heaven, a monstrous flaw there + is in this business, for if either of you so much as whisper I'll blow + your brains out!” + </p> + <p> + And to emphasise these words, as sinister as they were unlooked-for, I + raised both hands suddenly from beneath my cloak, and clapped the cold + nose of a pistol to the head of each of them. + </p> + <p> + I was obeyed as men are obeyed who thus uncompromisingly prove the force + of their commands. Seeing them resigned, I whistled softly, and in answer + there was a rustle from among the neighbouring trees, and presently two + shadows emerged from the thicket. In less time than it takes me to relate + it, Montrésor and his sergeant found themselves gagged, and each securely + bound to a tree. + </p> + <p> + Then, with Michelot and Abdon following a short distance behind me, I made + my way back to the troopers, and, feigning to stumble as I approached, I + hurtled so violently against two of them that I knocked the pair headlong + into the stream. + </p> + <p> + Scarce was it done, and almost before the remaining three had realised it, + there was a pistol at the head of each of them and sweet promises of an + eternal hereafter being whispered in their ears. They bore themselves with + charming discretion, and like lambs we led them each to a tree and dealt + with them as we had dealt with their officers, whilst the Chevalier and + his daughter watched us, bewildered and dumfounded at what they saw. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the other two had crawled—all unconscious of the fates of + their comrades—out of the river, we served them also in a like + manner. + </p> + <p> + Bidding Abdon and Michelot lead the horses, and still speaking in my + assumed voice, I desired Mademoiselle and the Chevalier—who had not + yet sufficiently recovered from his bewilderment to have found his tongue—to + follow me. I led the way up the gentle slope to the spot where our first + victims were pinioned. + </p> + <p> + Montrésor's comely young face looked monstrous wicked in the moonlight, + and his eyes rolled curiously as he beheld me. Stepping up to him I freed + him of his gag—an act which I had almost regretted a moment later, + for he cleared his throat with so lusty a torrent of profanity that + methought the heavens must have fallen on us. At last when he was done + with that—“Before you leave me in this plight, M. de St. Auban,” + quoth he, “perchance you will satisfy me with an explanation of your + unfathomable deeds and of this violence.” + </p> + <p> + “St. Auban!” exclaimed the Chevalier. + </p> + <p> + “St. Auban!” cried Yvonne. + </p> + <p> + And albeit wonder rang in both their voices, yet their minds I knew went + different ways. + </p> + <p> + “No, not St. Auban,” I answered with a laugh and putting aside all + counterfeit of speech. + </p> + <p> + “Par la mort Dieu! I know that voice,” cried Montrésor. + </p> + <p> + “Mayhap, indeed! And know you not this face?” And as I spoke I whipped + away my wig and mask, and thrust my countenance close up to his. + </p> + <p> + “Thunder of God!” ejaculated the boy. Then—“Pardieu,” he added, + “there is Michelot! How came I not to recognise him?” + </p> + <p> + “Since you would not assist me, Montrésor, you see I was forced to do + without you.” + </p> + <p> + “But St. Auban?” he gasped. “Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “In heaven, I hope—but I doubt it sadly.” + </p> + <p> + “You have killed him?” + </p> + <p> + There and then, as briefly as I might, I told him, whilst the others stood + by to listen, how I had come upon the Marquis in the château the night + before and what had passed thereafter. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” I said, as I cut his bonds, “it grieves me to charge you with + an impolite errand to his Eminence, but—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll not return to him,” he burst out. “I dare not. Mon Dieu, you have + ruined me, Luynes!” + </p> + <p> + “Then come with me, and I'll build your fortunes anew and on a sounder + foundation. I have an influential letter in my pocket that should procure + us fortune in the service of the King of Spain.” + </p> + <p> + He needed little pressing to fall in with my invitation, so we set the + sergeant free, and him instead I charged with a message that must have + given Mazarin endless pleasure when it was delivered to him. But he had + the Canaples estates wherewith to console himself and his never-failing + maxim that “chi canta, paga.” Touching the Canaples estates, however, he + did not long enjoy them, for when he went into exile, two years later, the + Parliament returned them to their rightful owner. + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier de Canaples approached me timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” quoth he, “I have wronged you very deeply. And this generous + rescue of one who has so little merited your aid truly puts me to so much + shame that I know not what thanks to offer you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then offer none, Monsieur,” I answered, taking his proffered hand. + “Moreover, time presses and we have a possible pursuit to baffle. So to + horse, Monsieurs.” + </p> + <p> + I assisted Mademoiselle to mount, and she passively suffered me to do her + this office, having no word for me, and keeping her face averted from my + earnest gaze. + </p> + <p> + I sighed as I turned to mount the horse Michelot held for me; but methinks + 't was more a sigh of satisfaction than of pain. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + . . . . . . . . +</pre> + <p> + All that night we travelled and all next day until Tours was reached + towards evening. There we halted for a sorely needed rest and for fresh + horses. + </p> + <p> + Three days later we arrived at Nantes, and a week from the night of the + Chevalier's rescue we took ship from that port to Santander. + </p> + <p> + That same evening, as I leaned upon the taffrail watching the distant + coast line of my beloved France, whose soil meseemed I was not like to + tread again for years, Yvonne came softly up behind me. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she said in a voice that trembled somewhat, “I have, indeed, + misjudged you. The shame of it has made me hold aloof from you since we + left Blois. I cannot tell you, Monsieur, how deep that shame has been, or + with what sorrow I have been beset for the words I uttered at Canaples. + Had I but paused to think—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay, Mademoiselle, 't was all my fault, I swear. I left you overlong + the dupe of appearances.” + </p> + <p> + “But I should not have believed them so easily. Say that I am forgiven, + Monsieur,” she pleaded; “tell me what reparation I can make.” + </p> + <p> + “There is one reparation that you can make if you are so minded,” I + answered, “but 'tis a life-long reparation.” + </p> + <p> + They were bold words, indeed, but my voice played the coward and shook so + vilely that it bereft them of half their boldness. But, ah, Dieu, what + joy, what ecstasy was mine to see how they were read by her; to remark the + rich, warm blood dyeing her cheeks in a bewitching blush; to behold the + sparkle that brightened her matchless eyes as they met mine! + </p> + <p> + “Yvonne!” + </p> + <p> + “Gaston!” + </p> + <p> + She was in my arms at last, and the work of reparation was begun whilst + together we gazed across the sun-gilt sea towards the fading shores of + France. + </p> + <p> + If you be curious to learn how, guided by the gentle hand of her who + plucked me from the vile ways that in my old life I had trodden, I have + since achieved greatness, honour, and renown, History will tell you. + </p> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUITORS OF YVONNE ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 3430-h.htm or 3430-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/3/3430/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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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