Chicot the Jester

  CHAPTER LXV.

  HOW M. DE ST. LUC SHOWED M. DE MONSOREAU THE THRUST THAT THE KINGHAD TAUGHT HIM.

  "Are you ready?" cried Monsoreau.

  "No; I have the sun in my eyes."

  "Move then; I warn you I shall kill you."

  "Shall you really? Well, man proposes, and God disposes. Lookat that bed of poppies and dandelions."

  "Well!"

  "Well, I mean to lay you there." And he laughed as he drew hissword. Monsoreau began the combat furiously, but St. Luc parriedhis thrusts skilfully.

  "Pardieu! M. de Monsoreau," said he, "you use your sword verywell; you might kill any one but Bussy or me."

  Monsoreau grew pale.

  "As for me," continued St. Luc, "the king, who loves me, tookthe trouble to give me a great many lessons, and showed me, amongother things, a thrust, which you shall see presently. I tellyou, that you may have the pleasure of knowing you are killedby the king's method; it is very flattering." And then suddenlyhe rushed furiously on Monsoreau, who, half wild with rage ashe was, parried five thrusts, but received the sixth full inhis chest.

  "Ah!" said St. Luc, "you will fall just where I told you," asMonsoreau sank down on the poppies. Then, wiping his sword, hestood quietly by, watching the changes which came over the faceof the dying man.

  "Ah, you have killed me!" cried Monsoreau.

  "I intended to do so, but now I see you dying, devil take me ifI am not sorry for what I have done. You are horribly jealous,it is true, but you were brave. Have you any last wish? If so,tell it to me; and, on the faith of a gentleman, it shall beexecuted. Are you thirsty? Shall I get you water?"

  Monsoreau did not reply. He turned over with his face to theearth, biting the ground, and struggling in his blood. Then hetried to raise his head, but fell back with a groan.

  "Come, he is dead; let me think no more about him. Ah! but thatis not so easy, when you have killed a man." And jumping backover the wall, he went to the chateau. The first person he sawwas Diana talking to his wife.

  "How well she will look in black," thought he. Then, approachingthem, "Pardon me," said he, "but may I say a few words to Jeanne?"

  "Do so; I will go to my father,"

  "What is it?" said Jeanne, when Diana was gone; "you look rathergloomy."

  "Why, yes."

  "What has happened?"

  "Oh, mon Dieu! an accident."

  "To you?"

  "Not precisely to me, but to a person who was near me."

  "Who was it?"

  "The person I was walking with."

  "M. de Monsoreau?"

  "Alas! yes; poor dear man."

  "What has happened to him?"

  "I believe he is dead."

  "Dead!" cried Jeanne, starting back in horror.

  "Just so."

  "He who was here just now talking----"

  "Yes, that is just the cause of his death; he talked too much."

  "St. Luc, you are hiding something from me!" cried Jeanne, seizinghis hands.

  "I! Nothing; not even the place where he lies."

  "Where is it?"

  "Down there behind the wall; just where Bussy used to tie hishorse."

  "It was you who killed him."

  "Parbleu! that is not very difficult to discover."

  "Unlucky that you are!"

  "Ah, dear friend! he provoked me, insulted me, drew the swordfirst."

  "It is dreadful! the poor man!"

  "Good; I was sure of it; before a week is over he will be calledSt. Monsoreau."

  "But you cannot stay here in the house of the man you have killed."

  "So I thought at once, and that is why I came to ask you to getready."

  "He has not wounded you?"

  "No, I am perfectly unhurt."

  "Then, we will go."

  "As quickly as possible, for you know the accident may be discoveredat any moment."

  "Then Diana is a widow."

  "That is just what I thought of."

  "After you killed him?"

  "No, before."

  "Well, I will go and tell her."

  "Spare her feelings."

  "Do not laugh. Meanwhile you get the horses saddled. But whereshall we go?"

  "To Paris."

  "But the king?"

  "Oh! he will have forgotten everything by this time; besides,if there is to be war, as seems probable, he will be glad ofme. But I must have pen and ink."

  "For what?"

  "To write to Bussy; I cannot leave Anjou without telling him why."

  "No, of course not; you will find all that you require in my room."St. Luc went in, and wrote,--

  "DEAR FRIEND,

  "You will learn, by report, ere long, the accident which hashappened to M. de Monsoreau; we had together, by the old copse,a discussion on broken-down walls and horses that go home alone.In the heat of the argument, he fell on a bed of poppies anddandelions so hard that he died there.

  "Your friend for life,

  "St. Luc.

  "P. S. As you may think this rather improbable, I must add thatwe had our swords in our hands. I set off at once for Paris tomake peace with the king, Anjou not seeming to me very safe afterwhat has occurred."

  Ten minutes after a servant set off for Angers with this letter,while M. and Madame de St. Luc went out by another door, leavingDiana much grieved at their departure, and much embarrassed howto tell the baron what had occurred. She had turned away hereyes from St. Luc as he passed.

  "That is the reward for serving your friends," said he to hiswife; "decidedly all people are ungrateful excepting me."