Orrain: A Romance

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE TOUR DE L'OISEAU

  "Thirty-three Henris, of which two are bad, these I have setaside--seven sols, and nine deniers, making in all thirty-one Henris,seven sols, and nine coppers of good money--and this is all, monsieur."

  It was touching the afternoon, and I was going over the present stateof my affairs with Pierrebon. I looked at the small heaps of coin hehad sorted out carefully on the table before me, and then rising walkedto my window and gazed out. The storm of last night had passed, andPoitiers lay before me, all wet and glistening in warm sunlight. I wasnot, however, interested in the landscape but in the hard fact thatthirty-one Henris, in round figures, would not carry me far in what Ihad before me. After a minute or so I came back again, and looked atthe money and then at Pierrebon. It was a hopeless sum.

  "It is correct, monsieur," he said; "and, of course, we have thehorses."

  "I know that; but what I am thinking of is that it is not enough. Inshort, I know not how long it will be before I can communicate withOlden Hoorn at Antwerp; and more money is needed, for there is workbefore us, Pierrebon."

  The honest fellow's eyes lit. "How many times have I not said the gooddays would come back, monsieur? All the years can never be famineyears, and we will have our hotel in the Rue de Bourgogne again, andtwenty gentlemen at our heels when we go to the Louvre; and if money isneeded now, monsieur, we have it."

  "Where? I do not see it." And I laughed.

  For answer Pierrebon unclasped his belt. Then taking his poniard heripped up an inch or so of leather on the inner side and took therefroma piece of paper carefully folded. This he handed to me, saying:

  "Open it carefully, monsieur."

  I did so, and found I had in my hand a diamond of some value. I lookedat it in astonishment, and then at Pierrebon. He read my glance, andbegan hastily:

  "Do not refuse, monsieur, for it came to me from you, as all that Ihave has come. When we left Antwerp I had a hundred and fifty livres,amassed in your service. Thirty I brought away in cash, and with ahundred and twenty I purchased this stone from Olden Hoorn himself. Itis worth a hundred, I dare say, and, as money is needed now, 'tisbetter to use our own than to go a-borrowing."

  It was impossible to refuse this faithful friend, and the diamond wastransferred to me. I may mention that I had declined all offers ofmoney made to me by the Queen and Le Brusquet, for I had a mind to workout my way without any such obligation. It was, however, a differentmatter with Pierrebon, and when the time came he lost nothing by hisfidelity.

  Matters being so far arranged we left the Elephant and betook ourselvesto the priory of the Capuchins, as M. de Montluc wished. On arrivalthere I found that the General had set forth at dawn, with a hundredlances and the Light Horse, and that two or three days might elapse erehe returned. He had, however, left particular instructions about me,and I found myself comfortably enough lodged. My first task was tomake arrangements for Masses for the soul of the dead Olivet, and forthe erection of a small cross to his memory in the Church of Ste.Radegonde. Thus having fulfilled my promise to mademoiselle I spentthe next day or so in resting my arm, which grew rapidly better, and inreplacing sundry articles of apparel both for Pierrebon and myself.All this made so considerable a gulf in the thirty-one Henris that Iresolved to transmute the diamond into gold.

  I consulted Sarlaboux, who, to his disgust, had been left behind inPoitiers. He looked at the diamond, and said he would buy it for ahundred and twenty livres; but protested, with oaths, that he had butten crowns in the world, and would, therefore, not be able to pay me atonce. This I could not agree to; and I was very nearly involved in aquarrel, as he thought that a slight was being put upon his parole.The affair, however, passed off. Finally, I decided on the advice of anew acquaintance of mine--a Capuchin named Grigolet--to seek the Jews'quarter, where at any rate I would receive gold and not promises topay. This Capuchin, who was a jovial soul, obligingly said he wouldaccompany me, as he himself had a little business there, in connectionwith the conversion of a young Jewess, whose eyes, he said inconfidence, were brighter than any diamond. I accepted the holy man'said, and we set forth, he showing me many places of interest on our way.

  We left the priory by the western postern and went up the Rue des TroisPiliers. The three pillars, which give its name to the street, markthe boundary between the jurisdiction of the Chapter of St. Hilaire andthe town of Poitiers. They are set in the city wall, a few yardsapart, and the statue on the first pillar is that of the EmperorGallienus. On reaching the head of the road we turned up a narrowalley, and found ourselves in the vast enclosure of the old arena--farlarger than those of Nimes and Aries in that it was capable of seatingfifty thousand persons, and was served for entrance or exit by ahundred and twenty-four vomitories. Through this immense and desertedruin we passed, gaining the Rue d'Evreux by one of the entrances, inthe archway of which an inn was built. Then, passing the Colleges ofSte. Marthe and Puygarreau, we took the Rue du Chat Rouge, and finallycame before the ogive arch, which formed the entrance to the Rue dePenthievre, where the Jews were compelled to live and transact theirbusiness. A similar arch and gate shut in the other end of the street,and guards were at each gate. During the day these unfortunate peoplewere allowed to go into the city at their own risk; but by nightfall,at the sound of the _couvre feu_, every one of them had to be withinhis street, under heavy pains and penalties, which were rigorouslyexacted.

  On entering we found ourselves in a small and narrow street crowdedwith people in yellow and grey gaberdines. All around us were darkfaces, bright black eyes, and hooked noses. Children swarmed, and layabout in the filth and ordure of the pavement. My companion drew fortha small flagon of scent, with which he liberally besprinkled bothhimself and me, and picking our way with care we found ourselves beforethe shop of Nathan the Jew. Here, whilst the Capuchin went farther onto see his Jewess, I haggled with Nathan for an hour or more over theprice of the diamond, but could not persuade him to give more thanfifteen livres. This was absurd, and I was about to turn away indisgust when the Capuchin returned. The bargaining was now taken up bya master, and the short of it was that we made our way out of the Jews'quarter with sixty-three livres in my purse. Three of these I gaveGrigole for his good offices, and on approaching the Rue d'Evreux theholy man disappeared into an auberge, doubtless with a view to meditateon further arguments for the conversion of his Miriam, whilst Ireturned alone to the priory.

  I was now fairly well supplied with money, but took the opportunity towrite to my friend at Antwerp, bidding him send two hundred crowns ofthe sun for me to the care of Le Brusquet. This, with many misgivings,I entrusted to the King's post. It, however, arrived in safety, and Igot my money.

  After supper that evening, as I was returning to my chamber, I heard acommotion in the courtyard, and at first thought that Montluc hadreturned. On inquiry, however, I found that this was not so, but thatcertain prisoners of importance had been brought to the priory. Icould not find out who they were, nor, indeed, did I try much, but tookmyself off.

  So far things were going well with me, and I felt myself justified inthe hope that the famine years were coming to an end. I saw thesentence of the Chambre Ardente against me cancelled, and began to seealso fine castles in dreamland, and with all these I unconsciouslybegan to associate Diane. I laughed at my folly, tried to set itaside; but back came the thought to me, in such a manner that I feltthat every step I was about to take to win back my place was not formyself but for her sake. And the fear of his own unworthiness, whichcomes to every man who truly loves, came upon me, and with it the ghostof that duel of days long past.

  There I had sinned, and sinned deeply, and it was poor consolation totell myself that the man does not live whose life could stand sunshineon it. For me it was enough to know that I had committed a grievouswrong; it was for me to find out how to right it, or makecompensation--empty regrets were useless.

  Of that affair it may be as wel
l to speak freely here. Amongst myfriends in the red days was one who was to me as David to Jonathan.Godefrey de la Mothe was of an old family of the Tarantaise, and hiscareer at college had been of exceptional brilliancy. Some years mysenior, he had at first acquired great influence over me, an influenceever exercised for my good. This lasted until my return from theItalian campaign, when, seeing ruin staring me in the face, I had leteverything go, and sought to drown my sorrows in dissipation. Myfriend strove to stay me; but, driven to madness, I repulsed all hiskindness. One day we met near the Louvre, in such a manner that therewas no avoiding him. He began to expostulate with me on my latestfolly. I answered back hotly, and at last there were high wordsbetween us, and that was said by me for which there was but one remedy;and he fell, as is known. Since then I could only regret. But nowthere was punishment as well as regret. With the memory of this couldI dare to think of Diane? There was only one answer, and with thatanswer I began to realise that what comes to all men had come to me,and that I loved. In his gibing way Le Brusquet had said that a manfeels conscious of love in the same manner as he feels a sudden chill.The words came back to me, and I laughed sadly, for there was truth inthem.

  I own that the blue-devils took me to such an extent that I hadthoughts of abandoning everything; but this soon passed, and I made upmy mind to right things as far as man could, and leave the issue in thehands of God. I had been paying for my sins for so many years that thedebt was almost quitted, and a stout heart would, perhaps, bring me toshore.

  Nevertheless, I passed a white night, and rising early in the morningrode out of the city by the Porte de Rochereuil, returning about teno'clock. On coming back I found that M. de Montluc had returned, andhad desired to see me at once. I was about to dismount when Sarlaboux,who had recovered his temper, which he lost over the affair of thediamond, informed me that the General had gone on to the Tour del'Oiseau, and I had better follow him there if I thought the matter ofsufficient importance. This I did, and as soon as ever Pierrebon, whomI gave orders to accompany me, was ready we set forth, and Sarlabouxcame with us. Whilst waiting for Pierrebon he told me that Montluc hadutterly broken the Huguenot leader De Ganache near Richelieu, and takenhim prisoner.

  "Were any others taken?"

  "Probably; and must be trying to hang as gracefully as walnuts now.Menorval tells me that the old fox of Chatillon got off, though with asinged tail."

  I began to breathe more freely. If the Cardinal had escaped it wasmore than probable that mademoiselle was safe; but I resolved to makesure.

  "There were no ladies taken, were there?"

  Sarlaboux cocked his eye and looked at me. "_Eh bien_! My dearmonsieur, are you finding it dull here? If so, I confess so do I.This is a city of the saints. Alas, no! There were no ladies taken,as far as I know; only De Ganache."

  "Then it was he who arrived last night?"

  "No; he was brought in by Montluc himself this morning, and it strikesme that he will never see the sun set. He has been taken to the Tourde l'Oiseau where Montluc has just gone, and which we had better reachas soon as possible if we wish to see things."

  I had to be content with this, and Pierrebon being ready we started offat a smart canter. The news I had heard had set my heart going, and itwas in no enviable frame of mind that I drew up at the entrance to theTour de l'Oiseau. The full strength of the Light Horse, their red andwhite pennons fluttering in the air, were trooped around the tower, andit was evident that something was about to happen, for the faces of allwere grave, and all eyes kept scanning the battlements. Giving myreins to Pierrebon I passed in with Sarlaboux, and running up thestairs reached the top of the tower. There we found Montluc standing,with half a dozen or so of his officers around him, and before him ayoung man, his head bare, and his hands bound behind him, stood facingMontluc. It was De Ganache.

  We took our places silently in the group just as Montluc spoke, in aharsh, stern voice:

  "M. de Ganache, your crimes are heavy, and you are about to pay forthem. I bear no malice against you. I set aside my private wrongs,the plunder of my Chateau of Estillac, the burning of my woods, and thewanton destruction of my papers and manuscripts collected by me withimmense care."

  De Ganache laughed mockingly, and the blue veins stood out on Montluc'sforehead. If the issue had not been so terrible there was room, intruth, for a smile, as he went on, with a gasp of rage:

  "What I hold against you is that you have been taken armed--a rebelagainst your King and your God. I am going to make an example of you,and shall deal out to you the same mercy you showed to Champagnac,and----"

  "Enough, monsieur!" said the prisoner; "let this talking end. If Ihave to die, let me die. I do not want a priest. I die in my faith,which is not yours. Let the matter end quickly, and be done with it."

  A grim smile played on Montluc's lips as he leaned heavily on his sword.

  "Well, be it so! I will not keep you. Supposing we say a leap."

  "A leap?"

  "Yes--from these battlements. If not, you will hang."

  "Hang!--I!" And a flush came on the young noble's face.

  "Precisely. Champagnac was hanged, if you remember, and it is the fateyou reserved for me. You, however, have a choice."

  For a moment there was a silence, and Montluc made a sign to the guardson either side of De Ganache to move away, and he was left free, exceptthat his hands were fastened. With a half turn he looked over thebattlements and gazed down from their dizzy height, and as he appearedat the embrasure there arose a hoarse cry from below. He drew back,and faced Montluc again.

  "Is it to be like this?" he asked thickly, making a motion to indicatehis tied hands.

  "Yes; you will fall easier."

  At this brutal answer De Ganache looked hopelessly around, as ifimploring help. His fortitude seemed to give way, and he began toshiver in an uncontrollable manner. I could endure it no longer, andmade a step forward; but, growling something that I did not catch,Sarlaboux seized me by the arm and drew me back. Just at this momentMontluc laughed a bitter, stinging laugh; and the wretched prisoner,swinging round, nerved himself to step again to the embrasure, andstopped there tottering. Again the shout rose from below, and Montlucrasped out:

  "Come, De Ganache, two looks are enough!"

  "I'll give you three to do it in, Monsieur de Montluc," I burst forth,and shaking Sarlaboux off stepped up to the General.

  "You!" he snarled.

  "Monsieur," I exclaimed, "this will cover you with shame! This is theact of a tiger, not a man. Forbear!--for the sake of your own fame,your own honour."

  There was a low murmur behind me; even the stolid guards glanced ateach other; but Montluc, after one swift, angry look at me, kept hishead down, and made no answer, standing glowering at the hilt of hissword as one who did not hear.

  It was De Ganache, however, who spoke. He had plucked up heart againafter his weakness.

  "There is at least one gentleman here! Let him alone, monsieur! Pleadnot! After all, death is but death." But I stayed him with upliftedhand, and went on: "Monsieur de Montluc, you will ever regret this.Will you soil your glory with this act of shame?"

  Our eyes met, and the sombre fury in his look dropped before my gaze.I saw my advantage, and approaching closer to him urged him again, andto my joy he began to waver. Suddenly he turned from me, and walkingto the battlements looked down himself, remaining there for a spaceamidst an absolute silence, broken but once by the uneasy clink of aspur.

  So he stood, and we waited breathlessly, for all hung on a hair; andthen as suddenly he turned to us, his face looking older and morewrinkled than ever.

  "M. de Ganache," he said in a hard voice, "you are free. Guards, loosehim!"

  Without another word or look he stepped forward, and began to limpslowly down the winding stair.