CHAPTER II
I BECOME THE OWNER OF A RING
I started from my seat, and Camus, with a turn and a step, reached thewindow, where, resting his hands on the mullions, he leaned far out. Iwas on his heels; but the window was narrow, a mere slit, and so Icould see nothing below. Late as it was the cry had, however, reachedother ears than ours as well. Here and there a dim light glowed for aninstant or so in an overhanging window. Here and there a shadowyfigure appeared at a balcony, only to vanish like a ghost after peeringfor a moment in the direction of the sound. This was all the interest,all the attention it excited, and this spoke for the times.
"What is it? Can you see anything?" I asked, craning over Camus'shoulder; and, as if in answer to my question, the cry rang out again,just below the window:
"_A moi_! _Au secours_!" Then came an oath, and the rasp of steel.
"They are killing someone there," said Camus; "killing with clumsysteel. Well! 'tis an affair for the watch." And with a shrug of hislean shoulders he turned back. But I waited to hear no more. Drawingmy sword I made all haste down the stairway and into the street, andthere before me, where the moonlight glistened on the mud and on thegreen and slimy cobble stones of the Rue des Lavandieres, two men,their backs to the wall, fought for their lives against four, whilst afifth, who seemed to direct them, stood a little apart.
The odds were heavy against the two. All the heavier because one,dressed in the bizarre attire of jester, had no sword but only a daggerfor defence. Nevertheless, with his short cloak wrapped over his leftarm, and the dagger in his right hand, he held his own with skill andcourage.
The attack, however, was chiefly directed upon his companion, afair-haired man, with a short moustache and beard. He had lost hishat. There was a red line of blood on his face from a wound in theforehead, and a twitching smile on his lips; but he fought silent as awolf.
A thrust that would have found his heart was parried, but not by him.Quick as thought, the swordless man by his side hit up the bravo'srapier with his left arm, and the blade, stabbing the air, struck andbent against the stones of the wall just over shoulder-height.
"_Sus_! _sus_!" cried the leader of the night-hawks; and he ran forward.
Clearly it was time that help came. So I passed my sword through oneof the bravos, and as the others, surprised and disconcerted, gave waya little, I ranged myself beside the two.
"Courage!" I said, "affairs are more equal now."
Cursing and growling, spitting like so many cats, the villains came onwith a rush, their leader first. A long arm and a long sword are,however, great advantages in affairs of this kind, and I took him onthe riposte. A cry and a gasp, a sword clattered on to the pavement,and the stricken man spun round and, holding his hand to his side,tried to stagger off, but after stumbling a few steps he fell in a heapin the shadow.
This settled the matter. The others, seeing their leader hit, waitedfor no more, but fled. There was no pursuit. For a few brief secondswe heard the patter of running feet, and then all was still.
We stood, all three staring at each other, and then the fair-haired manheld out his hand, saying simply: "I thank you, monsieur!"
I met his grasp, expressing at the same time my concern for his wound.
"It is not much, I think--all due to a weak parry on my part." And hestrove with a gold-laced handkerchief to staunch the blood that wasflowing somewhat freely. I was about to offer what help I could whenthe jester cut in.
"Faith of a fool!" he said, sheathing his dagger, "my gossip here isapt to make light of these scratches; but I would give my cap and bellsnow for a little salve."
"If you will come into my house, messieurs--'tis but a step--we willsee to the hurt."
I almost repented of my offer the moment after I made it, for I caughtthe jester plucking at my friend's sleeve in warning; but the otherlaughed, and, addressing me in a high and gracious way, said:
"Monsieur, once more thanks! I accept your offer. Of a truth!" and heruefully looked at his handkerchief, "this is a trifle too much cuppingfor me."
I bowed, and led the way across the road; but the jester stayed us,calling out in his high-pitched tones:
"Just a look at this carrion! One may as well see upon whom our friendhere has put his mark." So saying he stooped and turned over the man,the first of the two who had fallen. He lay half in a stagnant pool ofwater, and was quite dead, as we could see, for the moon fell clearlyon his evil and distorted face and horny, film-covered eyes.
"As dead as imperial Caesar," said the jester; "nor can I say who orwhat he was. St. Siege! Stay--see this!" And throwing back the man'scloak, which half covered his breast, he pointed with his fingers at acrest embroidered on the doublet. It was a crescent in silver, with ascroll beneath it, and as we all stooped down to see, the jester's keeneyes met those of his companion.
"The scroll explains all," he said, as if in reference to the attackupon them: "it is _totum donec impleat orbem_."
"Diane?"
"Yes; Diane de Poitiers--Diane, Duchess of Valentinois--Diane, thecurse of France! But I should play the Caliph Aaron no more, and keephome of nights; better still, take horse with the dawn for Navarre!"
There was a strange earnestness in the speaker's voice. There he was,one knee to ground, a finger resting on the ill-omened crest of themistress of the King, the moon shining on his rich dress of black andgold, on the sharp, weasel-like face, and keen eyes that looked up athis friend.
"There is more in this than I thought at first," I said to myself, andscanned the features of the dead man more closely. He looked like aforeigner, and, saying that I was going to see after the other, Iturned away, but with my ears skinned, as I began to dislike the affairexceedingly.
As I suspected, the jester began to warn his friend once more.
"Monseigneur, there has been enough folly for tonight, and your woundis but slight. Go not into the house! Let us thank him--reward him ifyou will--but let us be off!"
"Hush, Le Brusquet!" said the other in the same low tone. "There is nofear, and if there is danger I turn not from it."
I had heard enough, and seen enough too. The other man had got offsomehow. He had fallen, it is true, but recovered himself sufficientlyto make away. One can never be sure of the riposte in an uncertainlight, and uncertain moonlight is worst of all.
"He has got off," I said as I returned; "and 'twere well to have yourwound looked after, if you mean to have it done."
With this I led the way to the door of my house, and opening it badethem enter. The fair-haired man passed in at once, but I caught agleam in Le Brusquet's hand as he followed. He had drawn his daggeronce more.
My first thought had been, much as I disliked him, to ask Camus to helpme in dressing the wound; but upon consideration, and chiefly, after Ihad heard Le Brusquet address his friend as "Monseigneur," I deemed itpreferable that I should see to it myself. I had some experience inthese things. A soldier should know how to stop as well as to letblood; and by way of precaution I always keep a little store ofremedies at hand, for one never knows when they may be needed, as theywere then. With this in my mind I led the way up into my apartment.Here, I may mention, I had established myself modestly but comfortably.It is true that the walls were bare, except for a demi-suit of mail, acouple of swords, and a banner I had taken at Cerisolles; but for therest, what with my books--I had five in all--and my lute, I flatteredmyself that I had all that a man needed.
Pierrebon was asleep on a settle, and I had to call twice ere I couldwake him, for he slept like the dead. But he rose quickly enough, andlit the candles. Then, bidding him fetch me materials for dressing acut, I begged my guests to be seated. It was the first chance we hadof really seeing each other. The jester Le Brusquet I did notrecognize at all, though I noticed the royal cipher on his pourpoint.As for the other, there is only one house in France that bears suchfeatures, and the greatest of them all is now King, and owes his beingto the man who st
ood before me.
As the lights fell on us I noticed a quick glance pass between the two,and Le Brusquet's hand moved beneath his cloak. It was as if suspicionwere gone and he had resheathed his poniard. I smiled to myself; butPierrebon now entered with a ewer and the things I required. He placedthese on the table, and at a look from me, which he understood,vanished again.
I set myself at once to dress the wound, which was, after all, but aslight affair, though it had bled freely. I said so as I finished,adding that if it had been a trifle deeper the business would have beenserious; but, as it was, a couple of days would mend matters entirely,except for a patch.
"Not Frenel himself could have tended me better," said the wounded man."Monsieur, I am deeply obliged to you."
And Pierrebon entering at this time with some wine I begged them to dome the honour to drink a cup.
This they willingly assented to, and filling three cups from the flagonI raised mine on high.
"Messieurs, a toast for all good Christians! Down with the crescent!"
They understood and drank--Le Brusquet with a searching look in hiseyes and a smile on his lips, and his companion with a reckless laugh.
And now they rose. "Monsieur," said the wounded man, "will you add toyour kindness by telling us to whom we are indebted? You are asoldier--I can see that--and I can keep that sword of yours fromrusting if you will."
So he had not recognised me! Well, ten years make a difference! Andyet, if once, he had seen me a hundred times in the days when hisvaliant brother Enghien lived. I began to feel sure that if he did notknow me I was safe indeed; but I had no mind to change my present peacefor any other life, and so made answer:
"Monseigneur, it were idle for me to say that I do not know you. Restassured that were I so minded I could follow no braver or more generousprince than Antony of Vendome, but my sword is hung to the wall. Myname is Broussel. I am bourgeois, as you see, and having a smallestate of fifty ecus have all that suffices for the simple needs of acitizen such as I. Monseigneur, the little service I rendered issmall; let it be forgotten. Nevertheless, I thank you for the kindoffer you have made."
I delivered this speech with a respectful air, but yet in a tone thatcarried the conviction that my resolve was unchangeable.
"As you will," said the Duke, with some coldness of manner. "A Bourbondoes not offer twice. And so, farewell! I fear 'tis a long road andan ugly road we have yet to travel, thanks to my folly--eh, LeBrusquet?"
Out of the tail of my eye I had been watching Le Brusquet. All thistime he had been engaged in examining the silver cup from which he haddrunk his wine--a relic of my past splendour. He toyed with it thisway and that, looking at the arms engraved thereon, and comparing themwith those on the flagon. Then his little eyes stole a swift,searching glance at me, and a smile--just the shadow of asmile--flickered over his lips. He had not, however, lost a word ofwhat was passing between Vendome and myself, and on the Duke addressinghim he put down the cup he held in his hand, saying quietly: "IfMonsieur Broussel will add to his kindness by lending me a sword itmay, perhaps, be better for us, and I promise faithfully to return it."
Without a word I took a sword from the wall and handed it to LeBrusquet, who received it with a bow, and then, turning to the Duke, Ioffered to accompany them to the end of the street, which was an evilplace even by day. I added that a little beyond the end of the streetwas the Gloriette, where the guards of Monsieur the Lieutenant of theChatelet were to be found, and that thence their way would be safe.
The Duke pulled a long face, apparently at the thought of having todisclose his identity to the guards of the Chatelet, but Le Brusquetcut in with a "Let it be so, Monseigneur. Three are better than two,except in love-making."
At this the Duke laughed, and agreed, and we all three went out intothe street, which twisted and wound its crooked way towards the riverface between two rows of overhanging houses, that seemed as if theywere ever threatening to fall over and bury it in their ruins.
For a little we walked without a word; for Antony of Vendome--fickleand vain, at once the hope and despair of his time--felt himself hurtand aggrieved by the refusal of his offer, and for a space preserved asulky silence. Ere we had gone a quarter mile, however, histemper--variable as the wind--began to change and his kindly nature toreassert itself. We were passing the house of the Duplessis Richelieuwhen he spoke.
"_Eh bien_, Monsieur Broussel, change your mind and think better of myoffer. What with one thing and another there is steel in the air atpresent, and a stout heart and a good sword such as you are may make anestate of fifty ecus five hundred or more. Come, think of it!"
I felt my blood warm within me in spite of my fancied devotion to mycontented life; but I thought of that affair of the duel, of thejudgment of the Chambre Ardente, and above all, of Simon and the cardshe held against me. Besides, I knew Vendome, and so I refused oncemore.
"Well, well," he said, "as you will; but never say Antony of Vendomewas ungrateful."
We had by this time reached the point where the road opened out uponthe river face, and halted together in the moonlight.
A little distance from us lay the Seine, shining in scales of hammeredbrass. The convicts were still on the Gloriette. Poor wretches! Theyslaved there day and night, and lights were moving to and fro amongstthem as the guards watched them at their toil. They were singing aweird refrain--a chorus--ever and again interrupted by yells and cursesas the lash of the task-master fell on some victim of his hatred orsluggard at work.
"Here we part, Monseigneur!" I said. "The lieutenant of the Chateletwill give you guards to escort you farther."
I bowed to both, and would have gone--for I thought it well not to bemixed up further in this matter--but the Duke stayed me. He had takenoff his glove, and was fumbling with a ring on his finger. This hedrew off and thrust into my hand.
"Keep this, monsieur. Remember, if ever you want a friend you have butto send it to me. Farewell!"
"_Au revoir_!" cried Le Brusquet, who had up to now preserved silence."Remember, Le Brusquet is also your debtor doubly--once for a life andonce for a sword--and forget not my address is the sign of theCrescent."
With this mocking allusion to the Louvre and to Diane de Poitiers'influence there, he followed on the heels of Vendome, leaving me withthe ring in my hand.
I watched them until they were lost in the shivering haze. They neversought the Gloriette, but kept on the right, making directly for theLouvre.
Then I looked at the ring. It was light enough for me to see that itwas a plain gold signet in the shape of a shield, with the arms ofBearn--two cows on a field _Or_--cut thereon.
"Perhaps," I said to myself, "I shall need it some day." With this Islipped it on my finger, and went back.