CHAPTER X. THE CONSCIENCE OF MALPERTUIS
And so back to my room I went, my task accomplished, and so pleased wasI with what had passed that as I drew on my boots--preparing to set outto Canaples--I laughed softly to myself.
St. Auban I would dispose of in the morning. As for the other membersof the cabal, I deemed neither Vilmorin nor Malpertuis sufficientlyformidable to inspire uneasiness. St. Auban gone, they too would vanish.There remained then Eugene de Canaples. Him, however, methought no greatevil was to be feared from. In Paris he might be as loud-voiced as hepleased, but in his father's chateau--from what I had learned--'t wasunlikely he would so much as show himself. Moreover, he was wounded, andbefore he had sufficiently recovered to offer interference it wasmore than probable that Andrea would have married one or the other ofMesdemoiselles de Canaples--though I had a shrewd suspicion that itwould be the wrong one, and there again I feared trouble.
As I stood up, booted and ready to descend, there came a gentle tapat my door, and, in answer to my "Enter," there stood before me a verydainty and foppish figure. I stared hard at the effeminate face and thelong fair locks of my visitor, thinking that I had become the dupe of myeyes.
"M. de Vilmorin!" I murmured in astonishment, as he came forward, havingclosed the door. "You here?"
In answer, he bowed and greeted me with cold ceremoniousness.
"I have been in Blois since yesterday, Monsieur."
"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 saidironically. "A glass of wine, Vicomte?"
"A thousand thanks, Monsieur--no," he answered coldly in his mincingtones. "It is concerning your affair with M. le Marquis de St. Aubanthat I am come." And drawing forth a dainty kerchief, which filled theroom with the scent of ambregris, he tapped his lips with it affectedly.
"Do you come as friend or--in some other capacity?"
"I come as mediator."
"Mediator!" I echoed, and my brow grew dark. "Sdeath! Has St. Auban'scourage lasted just so long as the sting of my whip?"
He raised his eyebrows after a supercilious fashion that made me thirstto strike the chair from under him.
"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 uponhim be washed out--"
"It will be, I'll answer for it."
"Your answer, sir, is characteristic of a fanfarron. He who promisesmost does not always fulfil most."
I stared at him in amazement.
"Shall I promise you something, Vicomte? Mortdieu! If you seek to pick aquarrel with me--"
"God forbid!" he ejaculated, turning colour. And his suddenly awakenedapprehensions swept aside the affectation that hitherto had marked hisspeech and manner.
"Then, Monsieur, be brief and state the sum of this mediation."
"It is this, Monsieur. In the heat of the moment, M. le Marquis gaveyou, in the hearing of half a score of people, an assignation forto-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 towitness the encounter. Therefore, as my friend thinks this will be asunpalatable to you as it is to him, he has sent me to suggest a freshrendezvous."
"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 itdiscomposing, let us arrange otherwise."
"There is yet another point. M. de St. Auban spoke to you, I believe, ofan officer who is coming hither charged with your arrest. It is probablethat he may reach Blois before morning, so that the Marquis thinks thatto make certain you might consent to meet him to-night."
"Ma foi. St. Auban is indeed in earnest then! Convey to him myexpressions of admiration at this suddenly awakened courage. Be goodenough, Vicomte, to name the rendezvous."
"Do you know the chapel of St. Sulpice des Reaux?"
"What! Beyond the Loire?"
"Precisely, Monsieur. About a league from Chambord by the river side."
"I can find the place."
"Will you meet us there at nine o'clock to-night?"
I looked askance at him.
"But why cross the river? This side affords many likely spots!"
"Very true, Monsieur. But the Marquis has business at Chambordthis evening, after which there will be no reason--indeed, it willinconvenience him exceedingly--to return to Blois."
"What!" I cried, more and more astonished. "St. Auban is leaving Blois?"
"This evening, sir."
"But, voyons, Vicomte, why make an assignation in such a place and atnight, when at any hour of the day I can meet the Marquis on this side,without suffering the inconvenience of crossing the river?"
"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 anytime he may appoint, since to-night or to-morrow the officer who is insearch of you will arrive."
I pondered for a moment. Then:
"M. le Vicomte," I said, "in this matter of ground 't is I who have thefirst voice."
"How so?"
"Because the Marquis is the affronted one."
"Therefore he has a right to choose."
"A right, yes. But that is not enough. The necessity to fight is on hisside. His honour is hurt, not mine; I have whipped him; I am content.Now let him come to me."
"Assuredly you will not be so ungenerous."
"I do not care about journeying to Reaux to afford him satisfaction."
"Does Monsieur fear anything?"
"Vicomte, you go too far!" I cried, my pride gaining the mastery. "Sinceit is asked of me,--I will go."
"M. le Marquis will be grateful to you."
"A fig for his gratitude," I answered, whereupon the Vicomte shruggedhis narrow shoulders, and, his errand done, took his leave of me.
When he was gone I called Michelot, to tell him of the journey I must gothat night, so that he might hold himself in readiness.
"Why--if Monsieur will pardon me," quoth he, "do you go to meet theMarquis de St. Auban at St. Sulpice des Reaux by night?"
"Precisely what I asked Vilmorin. The Marquis desires it, and--what willyou?--since I am going to kill the man, I can scarce do less than killhim on a spot of his own choosing."
Michelot screwed up his face and scratched at his grey beard with hishuge hand.
"Does no suspicion of foul play cross your mind, Monsieur?" he inquiredtimidly.
"Shame on you, Michelot," I returned with some heat. "You do not yetunderstand the ways of gentlemen. Think you that M. de St. Auban wouldstoop to such a deed as that? He would be shamed for ever! Pooh, I wouldas soon suspect my Lord Cardinal of stealing the chalices from NotreDame. Go, see to my horse. I am riding to Canaples."
As I rode out towards the chateau I fell to thinking, and my thoughtsturning to Vilmorin, I marvelled at the part he was playing in thislittle comedy of a cabal against Andrea de Mancini. His tastes andinstincts were of the boudoir, the ante-chamber, and the table. He worea sword because it was so ordained by fashion, and because the hilt wasconvenient for the display of a jewel or two. Certainly 't was not forutility that it hung beside him, and no man had ever seen it drawn.Nature had made him the most pitiable coward begotten. Why then shouldhe involve himself in an affair which promised bloodshed, and which mustbe attended by many a risk for him? There was in all this some mysterythat I could not fathom.
From the course into which they had slipped, my thoughts were diverted,when I was within half a mile of the chateau, by the sight of a horsemanstationed, motionless, among the trees that bordered the road.It occurred to me that men take not such a position withoutpurpose--usually an evil one. I slackened speed somewhat and rode on,watching him sharply. As I came up, he walked his horse forward to meetme, and I beheld a man in the uniform of the gardes du corps, in whompresently I recognised the little sparrow Malpertuis, with whom I hadexchanged witticisms
at Choisy. He was the one man wanting to completethe trinity that had come upon us at the inn of the Connetable.
It flashed across my mind that he might be the officer charged with myarrest, 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 untilSt. Auban's soul sped hellwards.
He hailed me as I advanced, and indeed rode forward to meet me.
"You are come at last, M. de Luynes," was his greeting. "I have waitedfor you this hour past."
"How knew you I should ride this way?"
"I learnt that you would visit Canaples before noon. Be good enough toquit the road, and pass under those trees with me. I have something tosay to you, but it were not well that we should be seen together."
"For the sake of your character or mine, M. Malappris?"
"Malpertuis!" he snapped.
"Malpertuis," I corrected. "You were saying that we should not be seentogether."
"St. Auban might hear of it."
"Ah! And therefore?"
"You shall learn." We were now under the trees, which albeit leaflessyet screened us partly from the road. He drew rein, and I followed hisexample.
"M. de Luynes," he began, "I am or was a member of the cabal formedagainst Mazarin's aims in the matter of the marriage of Mademoisellede Canaples to his nephew. I joined hands with St. Auban, lured by hisprotestations that it is not meet that such an heiress as Yvonne deCanaples should be forced to marry a foreigner of no birth and lessdistinction, whilst France holds so many noble suitors to her hand. Thismotive, by which I know that even Eugene de Canaples was actuated, was,St. Auban gave me to understand, his only one for embarking upon thisbusiness, as it was also Vilmorin's. Now, M. de Luynes, I have to-daydiscovered that I had been duped by St. Auban and his dupe, Vilmorin.St. Auban lied to me; another motive brings him into the affair. Heseeks himself, by any means that may present themselves, to marryYvonne--and her estates; whilst the girl, I am told, loathes him beyondexpression. Vilmorin again is actuated by no less a purpose. And so,what think you these two knaves--this master knave and his dupe--havedetermined? To carry off Mademoiselle by force!"
"Sangdieu!" I burst out, and would have added more, but his gesturesilenced me, and he continued:
"Vilmorin believes that St. Auban is helping him in this, whereas St.Auban is but fooling him with ambiguous speeches until they have thelady safe. Then might will assert itself, and St. Auban need but showhis fangs to drive the sneaking coward away from the prize he fondlydreams is to be his."
"When do these gentlemen propose to carry out their plan? Have theydetermined that?" I inquired breathlessly.
"Aye, they have. They hope to accomplish it this very day. Mademoisellede Canaples has received a letter wherein she is asked to meet heranonymous writer in the coppice yonder, at the Angelus this evening, ifshe would learn news of great importance to her touching a conspiracyagainst her father."
"Faugh!" I sneered. "'T is too poor a bait to lure her with."
"Say you so? Believe me that unless she be dissuaded she will complywith the invitation, so cunningly was the letter couched. A closedcarriage will be waiting at this very spot. Into this St. Auban,Vilmorin, and their bravos will thrust the girl, then away through Bloisand beyond it, for a mile or so, in the direction of Meung, therebymisleading any chance pursuers. There they will quit the coach and takea boat that is to be in waiting for them and which will bear them backwith the stream to Chambord. Thereafter, God pity the poor lady if theyget thus far without mishap."
"Mort de ma vie!" I cried, slapping my thigh, "I understand!" And tomyself I thought of the assignation at St. Sulpice des Reaux, and thereason for this, as also St. Auban's resolution to so suddenly quitBlois, grew of a sudden clear to me. Also did I recall the riddletouching Vilmorin's conduct which a few moments ago I had puzzled over,and of which methought that I now held the solution.
"What do you understand?" asked Malpertuis.
"Something that was told me this morning," I made answer, then spoke ofgratitude, wherein he cut me short.
"I ask no thanks," he said curtly. "You owe me none. What I have doneis not for love of you or Mancini--for I love neither of you. It is donebecause noblesse m'oblige. I told St. Auban that I would have no part inthis outrage. But that is not enough; I owe it to my honour to attemptthe frustration of so dastardly a plan. You, M. de Luynes, appear tobe the most likely person to encompass this, in the interests of yourfriend Mancini; I leave the matter, therefore, in your hands. Good-day!"
And with this abrupt leave-taking, the little fellow doffed his hatto me, and wheeling his horse he set spurs in its flanks, and was gonebefore a word of mine could have stayed him.