CHAPTER XVI
M. DE PERRENCOURT WONDERS
As I walked briskly from my quarters down to the sea, M. dePerrencourt's last whisper, "With my favour and such a lady for hiswife, a gentleman might climb high," echoed in my ears so loudly andinsistently as to smother all thought of what had passed in the CouncilChamber, and to make of no moment for me the plots and plans alike ofKings, Catholics, and Ranters. That night I cared little though the Kinghad signed away the liberties of our religion and his realm; I spared nomore than a passing wonder for the attempt to which conscience run madhad urged Phineas Tate, and in which he in his turn had involved mysimpleton of a servant. Let them all plot and plan; the issue lay inGod's hand, above my knowledge and beyond my power. My task was enough,and more than enough, for my weakness; to it I turned, with no fixeddesign and no lively hope, with a prayer for success only, and a resolvenot to be King Louis' catspaw. A month ago I might have marvelled thathe offered such a part to any gentleman; the illusions of youth andignorance were melting fast; now I was left to ask why he had selectedone so humble for a place that great men held in those days with openprofit and without open shame; aye, and have held since. For although Ihave lived to call myself a Whig, I do not hold that the devil leftEngland for good and all with the House of Stuart.
We were on the quay now, and the little ship lay ready for us. A verylight breeze blew off the land, enough to carry us over if it held, butpromising a long passage; the weather was damp and misty. M. Colbert hadshrugged his shoulders over the prospect of a fog; his master would hearof no delay, and the King had sent for Thomas Lie, a famous pilot of theCinque Ports, to go with us till the French coast should be sighted. Thetwo Kings were walking up and down together in eager and engrossedconversation. Looking about, I perceived the figures of two womenstanding near the edge of the water. I saw Colbert approach them andenter into conversation; soon he came to me, and with the smoothest ofsmiles bade me charge myself with the care of Mistress Quinton.
"Madame," said he, "has sent a discreet and trustworthy waiting-womanwith her, but a lady needs a squire, and we are still hampered bybusiness." With which he went off to join his master, bestowing anothersignificant smile on me.
I lost no time in approaching Barbara. The woman with her was stout andshort, having a broad hard face; she stood by her charge square andsturdy as a soldier on guard. Barbara acknowledged my salutationstiffly; she was pale and seemed anxious, but in no great distress orhorror. But did she know what was planned for her or the part I was toplay? The first words she spoke showed me that she knew nothing, forwhen I began to feel my way, saying: "The wind is fair for us," shestarted, crying: "For us? Why, are you coming with us?"
I glanced at the waiting-woman, who stood stolidly by.
"She understands no English," said Barbara, catching my meaning. "Youcan speak freely. Why are you coming?"
"Nay, but why are you going?"
She answered me with a touch of defiance in her voice.
"The Duchess of York is to return with Madame on a visit to the FrenchCourt, and I go to prepare for her coming."
So this was the story by which they were inducing her to trust herselfin their hands. Doubtless they might have forced her, but deceitfurnished a better way. Yet agitation had mingled with defiance in hervoice. In an instant she went on:
"You are coming, in truth are you? Don't jest with me."
"Indeed I'm coming, madame. I hope my company is to your liking?"
"But why, why?"
"M. de Perrencourt has one answer to that question and I another."
Her eyes questioned me, but she did not put her question into words.With a little shiver she said:
"I am glad to be quit of this place."
"You're right in that," I answered gravely.
Her cheek flushed, and her eyes fell to the ground.
"Yes," she murmured.
"But Dover Castle is not the only place where danger lies," said I.
"Madame has sworn----" she began impetuously.
"And M. de Perrencourt?" I interrupted.
"He--he gave his word to his sister," she said in a very low voice. Thenshe stretched her hand out towards me, whispering, "Simon, Simon!"
I interpreted the appeal, although it was but an inarticulate cry,witnessing to a fear of dangers unknown. The woman had edged a littleaway, but still kept a careful watch. I paid no heed to her. I must givemy warning.
"My services are always at your disposal, Mistress Barbara," said I,"even without the right to them that M. de Perrencourt purposes to giveyou."
"I don't understand. How can he--Why, you wouldn't enter my service?"
She laughed a little as she made this suggestion, but there was aneagerness in her voice; my heart answered to it, for I saw that shefound comfort in the thought of my company.
"M. de Perrencourt," said I, "purposes that I should enter your service,and his also."
"Mine and his?" she murmured, puzzled and alarmed.
I did not know how to tell her; I was ashamed. But the last momentsfled, and she must know before we were at sea.
"Yonder where we're going," I said, "the word of M. de Perrencourt islaw and his pleasure right."
She took alarm, and her voice trembled.
"He has promised--Madame told me," she stammered. "Ah, Simon, must I go?Yet I should be worse here."
"You must go. What can we do here? I go willingly."
"For what?"
"To serve you, if it be in my power. Will you listen?"
"Quick, quick. Tell me!"
"Of all that he swore, he will observe nothing. Hush, don't cry out.Nothing."
I feared that she would fall, for she reeled where she stood. I darednot support her.
"If he asks a strange thing, agree to it. It's the only way."
"What? What will he ask?"
"He will propose a husband to you."
She tore at the lace wrapping about her throat as though it werechoking her; her eyes were fixed on mine. I answered her gaze with asteady regard, and her cheek grew red with a hot blush.
"His motive you may guess," said I. "There is convenience in a husband."
I had put it at last plainly enough, and when I had said it I averted myeyes from hers.
"I won't go," I heard her gasp. "I'll throw myself at the King's feet."
"He'll make a clever jest on you," said I bitterly.
"I'll implore M. de Perrencourt----"
"His answer will be--polite."
For a while there was silence. Then she spoke again in a low whisper;her voice now sounded hard and cold, and she stood rigid.
"Who is the man?" she asked. Then she broke into a sudden passion, and,forgetting caution, seized me by the arm, whispering, "Have you yoursword?"
"Aye, it is here."
"Will you use it for me?"
"At your bidding."
"Then use it on the body of the man."
"I'm the man," said I.
"You, Simon!"
Now what a poor thing is this writing, and how small a fragment of truthcan it hold! "You, Simon!" The words are nothing, but they came from herlips full-charged with wonder, most incredulous, yet coloured withsudden hope of deliverance. She doubted, yet she caught at the strangechance. Nay, there was more still, but what I could not tell; for hereyes lit up with a sudden sparkle, which shone a brief moment and thenwas screened by drooping lids.
"That is why I go," said I. "With M. de Perrencourt's favour and such alady for my wife I might climb high. So whispered M. de Perrencourthimself."
"You!" she murmured again; and again her cheek was red.
"We must not reach Calais, if we can escape by the way. Be near mealways on the ship, fortune may give us a chance. And if we come toCalais, be near me, while you can."
"But if we can't escape?"
I was puzzled by her. It must be that she found in my company new hopeof escape. Hence came the light in her eyes, and the agitation whichseemed to show exc
itement rather than fear. But I had no answer to herquestion, "If we can't escape?"
Had I been ready with fifty answers, time would have failed for one. M.Colbert called to me. The King was embracing his guest for the lasttime; the sails were spread; Thomas Lie was at the helm. I hastened toobey M. Colbert's summons. He pointed to the King; going forward, Iknelt and kissed the hand extended to me. Then I rose and stood for amoment, in case it should be the King's pleasure to address me. M. dePerrencourt was by his side.
The King's face wore a smile and the smile broadened as he spoke to me.
"You're a wilful man, Mr Dale," said he, "but fortune is more wilfulstill. You would not woo her, therefore woman-like she loves you. Youwere stubborn, but she is resolute to overcome your stubbornness. Butdon't try her too far. She stands waiting for you open-armed. Isn't itso, my brother?"
"Your Majesty speaks no more than truth," answered M. de Perrencourt.
"Will you accept her embraces?" asked the King.
I bowed very low and raised my head with a cheerful and gay smile.
"Most willingly," I answered.
"And what of reservations, Mr. Dale?"
"May it please your Majesty, they do not hold across the water."
"Good. My brother is more fortunate than I. God be with you, Mr Dale."
At that I smiled again. And the King smiled. My errand was a strange oneto earn a benediction.
"Be off with you," he said with an impatient laugh. "A man must pick hiswords in talking with you." A gesture of his hand dismissed me. I wenton board and watched him standing on the quay as Thomas Lie steered usout of harbour and laid us so as to catch the wind. As we moved, theKing turned and began to mount the hill.
We moved, but slowly. For an hour we made way. All this while I wasalone on deck, except for the crew and Thomas Lie. The rest had gonebelow; I had offered to follow, but a gesture from M. Colbert sent meback. The sense of helplessness was on me, overwhelming and bitter. Whenthe time came for my part I should be sent for, until then none had needof me. I could guess well enough what was passing below, and I found nocomfort in the knowledge of it. Up and down I walked quickly, as a mantorn and tormented with thoughts that his steps, however hasty, cannotoutstrip. The crew stared at me, the pilot himself spared a glance ofamused wonder at the man who strode to and fro so restlessly. Once Ipaused at the stern of the ship, where Lie's boat, towed behind us, cutthrough the water as a diamond cuts a pane of glass. For an instant Ithought of leaping in and making a bid for liberty alone. The strangetone in which "You, Simon!" had struck home to my heart forbade me. ButI was sick with the world, and turned from the boat to gaze over thesea. There is a power in the quiet water by night; it draws a man with apromise of peace in the soft lap of forgetfulness. So strong is theallurement that, though I count myself sane and of sound mind, I do notlove to look too long on the bosom of deep waters when the night isfull; for the doubt comes then whether to live is sanity and not ratherto die and have an end of the tossing of life and the unrestingdissatisfaction of our state. That night the impulse came on memightily, and I fought it, forcing myself to look, refusing the weaknessof flight from the seductive siren. For I was fenced round with troublesand of a sore heart: there lay the open country and a heart at peace.
Suddenly I gave a low exclamation; the water, which had fled from us aswe moved, seeming glad to pass us by and rush again on its raceundisturbed, stood still. From the swill came quiet, out of the shimmera mirror disentangled itself, and lay there on the sea, smooth andbright. But it grew dull in an instant; I heard the sails flap, but sawthem no more. A dense white vapour settled on us, the length of my armbounded my sight, all movement ceased, and we lay on the water, inertand idle. I leant beside the gunwale, feeling the fog moist on my face,seeing in its baffling folds a type of the toils that bound and fetteredme. Now voices rose round me, and again fell; the crew questioned, thecaptain urged; I heard Colbert's voice as he hurried on deck. Thesufficient answer was all around us; where the mist was there could beno wind; in grumbling the voices died away.
The rest of what passed seems even now a strange dream that I can hardlyfollow, whose issue alone I know, which I can recover only dimly andvaguely in my memory. I was there in the stern, leaning over, listeningto the soft sound of the sea as Thomas Lie's boat rolled lazily fromside to side and the water murmured gently under the gentle stroke. Thencame voices again just by my shoulder. I did not move. I knew the tonesthat spoke, the persuasive commanding tones hard to resist, apt tocompel. Slowly I turned myself round; the speakers must be within eightor ten feet of me, but I could not see them. Still they came nearer.Then I heard the sound of a sob, and at it sprang to rigidity, poised onready feet, with my hand on the hilt of my sword.
"You're weary now," said the smooth strong voice. "We will talk again inthe morning. From my heart I grieve to have distressed you. Come, we'llfind the gentleman whom you desire to speak with, and I'll trouble youno more. Indeed I count myself fortunate in having asked my good brotherfor one whose company is agreeable to you. For your sake, your friendshall be mine. Come, I'll take you to him, and then leave you."
Barbara's sobs ceased; I did not wonder that his persuasions won her torepose and almost to trust. It seemed that the mist grew a little lessthick; I saw their figures. Knowing that at the same moment I mustmyself be seen, I spoke on the instant.
"I am here, at Mistress Quinton's service."
M. de Perrencourt (to call him still by his chosen name) came forwardand groped his way to my arm, whispering in French,
"All is easy. Be gentle with her. Why, she turns to you of her ownaccord! All will go smoothly."
"You may be sure of it, sir," I said. "Will you leave her with me?"
"Yes," he answered. "I can trust you, can't I?"
"I may be trusted to death," I answered, smiling behind the mist's kindscreen.
Barbara was by his side now; with a bow he drew back. I traced him as hewent towards where Lie stood, and I heard a murmur of voices as he andthe helmsman spoke to one another. Then I heard no more, and lost sightof him in the thick close darkness. I put out my hand and felt forBarbara's; it came straight to mine.
"You--you'll stay with me?" she murmured. "I'm frightened, Simon."
As she spoke, I felt on my cheek the cold breath of the wind. Turning myfull face, I felt it more. The breeze was rising, the sails flappedagain, Thomas Lie's boat buffeted the waves with a quicker beat. When Ilooked towards her, I saw her face, framed in mist, pale and wet withtears, beseeching me. There at that moment, born in danger and nursed byher helplessness, there came to me a new feeling, that was yet an oldone; now I knew that I would not leave her. Nay, for an instant I wastempted to abandon all effort and drift on to the French shore, lookingthere to play my own game, despite of her and despite of King Louishimself. But the risk was too desperate.
"No, I won't leave you," I said in low tones that trembled under thefresh burden which they bore.
But yes, the wind rose, the mist began to lift, the water was runninglazily from under our keel, the little boat bobbed and danced to aleisurely tune.
"The wind serves," cried Thomas Lie. "We shall make land in two hours ifit hold as it blows now."
The plan was in my head. It was such an impulse as coming to a man seemsrevelation and forbids all questioning of its authority. I held Barbarastill by the hand, and drew her to me. There, leaning over the gunwale,we saw Thomas Lie's boat moving after us. His sculls lay ready. I lookedin her eyes, and was answered with wonder, perplexity, and dawningintelligence.
"I daren't let him carry you to Calais," I whispered; "we should behelpless there."
"But you--it's you."
"As his tool and his fool," I muttered. Low as I spoke, she heard me,and asked despairingly:
"What then, Simon? What can we do?"
"If I go there, will you jump into my arms? The distance isn't far."
"Into the boat! Into your arms in the boat?"
"Yes. I can h
old you. There's a chance if we go now--now, before themist lifts more."
"If we're seen?"
"We're no worse off."
"Yes, I'll jump, Simon."
We were moving now briskly enough, though the wind came in fitful gustsand with no steady blast, and the mist now lifted, now again swathed usin close folds. I gripped Barbara's hand, whispering, "Be ready," and,throwing one leg over the side, followed with the other, and droppedgently into Thomas Lie's boat. It swayed under me, but it was broad inthe beam and rode high in the water; no harm happened. Then I stoodsquare in the bows and whispered "Now!" For the beating of my heart Iscarcely heard my own voice, but I spoke louder than I knew. At the sameinstant that Barbara sprang into my arms, there was a rush of feetacross the deck, an oath rang loud in French, and another figureappeared on the gunwale, with one leg thrown over. Barbara was in myarms. I felt her trembling body cling to mine, but I disengaged hergrasp quickly and roughly--for gentleness asks time, and time had wenone--and set her down in the boat. Then I turned to the figure aboveme. A momentary glance showed me the face of King Louis. I paid no moreheed, but drew my knife and flung myself on the rope that bound the boatto the ship.
Then the breeze dropped, and the fog fell thick and enveloping. My knifewas on the rope and I severed the strands with desperate strength. Oneby one I felt them go. As the last went I raised my head. From the shipabove me flashed the fire of a pistol, and a ball whistled by my ear.Wild with excitement, I laughed derisively. The last strand was gone,slowly the ship forged ahead; but then the man on the gunwale gatheredhimself together and sprang across the water between us. He came full onthe top of me, and we fell together on the floor of the boat. By thenarrowest chance we escaped foundering, but the sturdy boat proved true.I clutched my assailant with all my strength, pinning him arm to arm,breast to breast, shoulder to shoulder. His breath was hot on my face. Igasped "Row, row." From the ship came a sudden alarmed cry: "The boat,the boat!" But already the ship grew dim and indistinct.
"Row, row," I muttered; then I heard the sculls set in their tholes, andwith a slow faltering stroke the boat was guided away from the ship,moving nearly at a right angle to it. I put out all my strength. I wasby far a bigger man than the King, and I did not spare him. I hugged himwith a bear's hug, and his strength was squeezed out of him. Now I wason the top and he below. I twisted his pistol from his hand and flung itoverboard. Tumultuous cries came from the blurred mass that was theship; but the breeze had fallen, the fog was thick, they had no otherboat. The King lay still. "Give me the sculls," I whispered. Barbarayielded them; her hands were cold as death when they encountered mine.She scrambled into the stern. I dragged the King back--he was like alog now--till he lay with the middle of his body under the seat on whichI sat; his face looked up from between my feet. Then I fell to rowing,choosing no course except that our way should be from the ship, andready, at any movement of the still form below me, to drop my sculls andset my pistol at his head. Yet till that need came I bent lustily to mywork, and when I looked over the sea the ship was not to be seen, butall around hung the white vapour, the friendly accomplice of myenterprise.
That leap of his was a gallant thing. He knew that I was his master instrength, and that I stood where no motive of prudence could reach andno fear restrain me. If I were caught, the grave or a French prisonwould be my fate; to get clear off, he might suppose that I should counteven the most august life in Christendom well taken. Yet he had leapt,and, before heaven, I feared that I had killed him. If it were so, Imust set Barbara in safety, and then follow him where he was gone; therewould be no place for me among living men, and I had better choose myown end than be hunted to death like a mad dog. These thoughts spunthrough my brain as my arms drove the blades into the water, on anaimless course through the mist, till the mass of the ship utterlydisappeared, and we three were alone on the sea. Then the fear overcameme. I rested on my oars, and leaning over to where Barbara sat in thestern, I shaped with awe-struck lips the question--"Is he dead? My God,is he dead?"
She sat there, herself, as it seemed, half-dead. But at my words sheshivered and with an effort mastered her relaxed limbs. Slowly shedropped on her knees by the King and raised his head in her arms. Shefelt in her bosom and drew out a flask of salts, which she set to hisnostrils. I watched his face; the muscles of it contracted into agrimace, then were smoothed again to calmness; he opened his eyes."Thank God," I muttered to myself; and the peril to him being gone by, Iremembered our danger, and taking out my pistol looked to it, and satdangling it in my hand.
Barbara, still supporting the King's head, looked up at me.
"What will become of us?" she asked.
"At least we shan't be married in Calais," I answered with a grim smile.
"No," she murmured, and bent again over the King.
Now his eyes were wide-opened, and I fixed mine on them. I saw thereturn of consciousness and intelligence; the quick glance that fell onme, on the oars, on the pistol in my hand, witnessed to it. Then heraised himself on his elbow, Barbara drawing quickly away, and so restedan instant, regarding me still. He drew himself up into a sittingposture, and seemed as though he would rise to his feet. I raised thepistol and pointed it at him.
"No higher, if you please," said I. "It's a matter of danger to walkabout in so small a boat, and you came near to upsetting us before."
He turned his head and saw Barbara, then gazed round on the sea. No sailwas to be seen, and the fog still screened the boat in impenetrablesolitude. The sight brought to his mind a conviction of what his plightwas. Yet no dismay nor fear showed in his face. He sat there, regardingme with an earnest curiosity. At last he spoke.
"You were deluding me all the time?" he asked.
"Even so," said I, with an inclination of my head.
"You did not mean to take my offer?"
"Since I am a gentleman, I did not."
"I also am accounted a gentleman, sir."
"Nay, I took you for a prince," said I.
He made me no answer, but, looking round him again, observed:
"The ship must be near. But for this cursed fog she would be in sight."
"It's well for us she isn't," I said.
"Why, sir?" he asked brusquely.
"If she were, there's the pistol for the lady, and this sword here foryou and me," said I coolly. For a man may contrive to speak coolly,though his bearing be a lie and his heart beat quick.
"You daren't," he cried in amazement.
"I should be unwilling," I conceded.
For an instant there was silence. Then came Barbara's voice, soft andfearful:
"Simon, the fog lifts."
It was true. The breeze blew and the fog lifted. Louis' eyes sparkled.All three of us, by one impulse, looked round on the sea. The fresh windstruck my cheek, and the enveloping folds curled lazily away. Barbaraheld up her hand and pointed. Away on the right, dimly visible, justdetached from the remaining clouds of mist, was a dark object, sittinghigh on the water. A ship it was, in all likelihood the king's ship. Weshould be sighted soon. My eyes met the King's and his were exultant andjoyful; he did not yet believe that I would do what I had said, and hethought that the trap closed on us again. For still the mist rose, andin a few moments they on the ship must see us.
"You shall pay for your trick," he said between his teeth.
"It is very likely," said I. "But I think that the debt will be paid toyour Majesty's successor."
Still he did not believe. I burst into a laugh of grim amusement. Thesegreat folk find it hard to understand how sometimes their greatness isnothing, and the thing is man to man; but now and then fortune takes awhim and teaches them the lesson for her sport.
"But since you are a King," said I, "you shall have your privilege. Youshall pass out before the lady. See, the ship is very plain now. Soon weshall be plain to the ship. Come, sir, you go first."
He looked at me, now puzzled and alarmed.
"I am unarmed," he said.
"It
is no fight," I answered. Then I turned to Barbara. "Go and sit inthe stern," I said, "and cover your face with your hands."
"Simon, Simon," she moaned, but she obeyed me, and threw herself down,burying her face in her hands. I turned to the king.
"How will you die, sir?" said I quietly, and, as I believe, in a civilmanner.
A sudden shout rang in my ears. I would not look away from him, lest heshould spring on me or fling himself from the boat. But I knew whencethe shout came, for it was charged with joy and the relief of unbearableanxiety. The ship was the King's ship and his servants had seen theirmaster. Yet they would not dare to fire without his orders, and with therisk of killing him; therefore I was easy concerning musket shot. But wemust not come near enough for a voice to be heard from us, and a pistolto carry to us.
"How will you die?" I asked again. His eyes questioned me. I added, "AsGod lives I will." And I smiled at him.