The Suitors of Yvonne: being a portion of the memoirs of the Sieur Gaston de Luynes
CHAPTER IX. OF HOW A WHIP PROVED A BETTER ARGUMENT THAN A TONGUE
"I crave Monsieur's pardon, but there is a gentleman below who desiresto speak with you immediately."
"How does this gentleman call himself, M. l'Hote?"
"M. le Marquis de St. Auban," answered the landlord, still standing inthe doorway.
It wanted an hour or so to noon on the day following that of St. Auban'sarrival at Blois, and I was on the point of setting out for the chateauon an errand of warning.
It occurred to me to refuse to see the Marquis, but remembering betimesthat from your enemy's speech you may sometimes learn where to look forhis next attack, I thought better of it and bade my host admit him.
I strode over to the fire, and stirring the burning logs, I put my backto the blaze, and waited.
Steps sounded on the stairs; there was the shuffling of the landlord'sslippered feet and the firm tread of my visitor, accompanied bythe jingle of spurs and the clank of his scabbard as it struck thebalustrade. Then my door was again opened, and St. Auban, as superblydressed as ever, was admitted.
We bowed formally, as men bow who are about to cross swords, and whilstI waited for him to speak, I noted that his face was pale and bore theimpress of suppressed anger.
"So, M. de Luynes, again we meet."
"By your seeking, M. le Marquis."
"You are not polite."
"You are not opportune."
He smiled dangerously.
"I learn, Monsieur, that you are a daily visitor at the Chateau deCanaples."
"Well, sir, what of it?"
"This. I have been to Canaples this morning and, knowing that you willlearn anon, from that old dotard, what passed between us, I prefer thatyou shall hear it first from me."
I bowed to conceal a smile.
"Thanks to you, M. de Luynes, I was ordered from the house. I--Cesarde St. Auban--have been ordered from the house of a provincial upstart!Thanks to the calumnies which you poured into his ears."
"Calumnies! Was that the word?"
"I choose the word that suits me best," he answered, and the rage thatwas in him at the affront he had suffered at the hands of the Chevalierde Canaples was fast rising to the surface. "I warned you at Choisy ofwhat would befall. Your opposition and your alliance with M. de Manciniare futile. You think to have gained a victory by winning over to yourside an old fool who will sacrifice his honour to see his daughter aduchess, but I tell you, sir--"
"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."
He grew livid with passion.
"You shall learn more ere you quit it, you meddler! You shall be taughtto keep that long nose of yours out of matters that concern you not."
I laughed.
"Loud threats!" I answered jeeringly.
"Never fear," he cried, "there is more to follow. To your cost shallyou learn it. By God, sir! do you think that I am to suffer a Sicilianadventurer and a broken tavern ruffler to interfere with my designs?"
Still I kept my temper.
"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 yetoutrageously enamoured of you, for all your beauty!"
Beside himself with passion, his hand sought his sword. But the gesturewas spasmodic.
"Knave!" he snarled.
"Knave to me? Have a care, St. Auban, or I'll find you a shroud for awedding garment."
"Knave!" he repeated with a snarl. "What price are you paid by thatboy?"
"Pardieu, St. Auban! You shall answer to me for this."
"Answer for it? To you!" And he laughed harshly. "You are mad, mymaster. When did a St. Auban cross swords with a man of your stamp?"
"M. le Marquis," I said, with a calmness that came of a stupendouseffort, "at Choisy you sought my friendship with high-sounding talk ofprinciples that opposed you to the proposed alliance, twixt the housesof Mancini and Canaples. Since then I have learned that your motiveswere purely personal. From my discovery I hold you to be a liar."
"Monsieur!"
"I have not yet done. You refuse to cross swords with me on the pretextthat 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 asgood as that of St. Auban, and one from which a Constable of Francehas sprung, whereas yours has never yet bred aught but profligates anddebauchees. You are little better than I am, Marquis; indeed, you domany 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 manof the sword, you seek to pick a fight with a beardless boy who hardlyknows the use of a rapier, and who--wittingly at least--has done you nowrong. Now, my master, you may call me profligate, ruffler, gamester,duellist--what you will; but there are two viler things you cannot dubme, and which, methinks, I have proven you to be--liar and craven."
And as I spoke the burning words, I stood close up to him and tapped hisbreast as if to drive the epithets into his very heart.
Rage he felt, indeed, and his distorted countenance was a sight fearfulto behold.
"Now, my master," I added, setting my arms akimbo and laughing brutallyin his face, "will you fight?"
For a moment he wavered, and surely meseemed that I had drawn him. Then:
"No," he cried passionately. "I will not do dishonour to my sword." Andturning he made for the door, leaving me baffled.
"Go, sir," I shouted, "but fame shall stalk fast behind you. Liar andcraven will I dub you throughout the whole of France."
He stopped 'neath the lintel, and faced me again.
"Fool," he sneered. "You'll need dispatch to spread my fame so far. Bythis time to-morrow you'll be arrested. In three days you will be in theBastille, and there shall you lie until you rot to carrion."
"Loud threats again!" I laughed, hoping by the taunt to learn more.
"Loud perchance, but not empty. Learn that the Cardinal has knowledge ofyour association with Mancini, and means to separate you. An officerof the guards is on his way to Blois. He is at Meung by now. He bearsa warrant for your arrest and delivery to the governor of the Bastille.Thereafter, none may say what will betide." And with a coarse burst oflaughter he left me, banging the door as he passed out.
For a moment I stood there stricken by his parting words. He had soughtto 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 havezealously concealed, and what to him was but a stinging threat was to mea timely warning. I saw the necessity for immediate action. Two thingsmust I do; kill St. Auban first, then fly the Cardinal's warrant asbest I could. I cast about me for means to carry out the first of theseintentions. My eye fell upon my riding-whip, lying on a chair close tomy hand, and the sight of it brought me the idea I sought. Seizing it, Ibounded out of the room and down the stairs, three steps at a stride.
Along the corridor I sped and into the common-room, which at the momentwas tolerably full. As I entered by one door, the Marquis was withinthree paces of the other, leading to the courtyard.
My whip in the air, I sprang after him; and he, hearing the rush ofmy onslaught, turned, then uttered a cry of pain as I brought the lashcaressingly about his shoulders.
"Now, master craven," I shouted, "will that change your mind?"
With an almost inarticulate cry, he sought to draw there and then, butthose about flung themselves upon us, and held us apart--I, passiveand unresisting; the Marquis, bellowing, struggling, and foaming at themouth.
"To meet you now would be to murder you, Marquis," I said coolly. "Sendyour friends to me to appoint the time."
"Soit!" he cried, his eyes blazing with a hate unspeakable. "At eightto-morrow morning I shall await you on the green behind the castle ofBlois."
"At eight o'clock I shall be there," I answered. "And now, gentlemen, ifyou will unhand me, I will return to my apartments."
> They let me go, but with many a growl and angry look, for in their eyesI was no more than a coarse aggressor, whilst their sympathy was all forSt. Auban.