CHAPTER XXVII
THE RING
Late that evening Le Brusquet sat alone in his room in the Louvre, myring on the table before him. On leaving me that afternoon near theLadies' Terrace his first thought had been, according to his promise,to return the letters we found to De Ganache; but he was not to beseen. Le Brusquet had sought the tennis courts, haunted the apartmentsof La Valentinois, and lounged about the lawns where the ladies andgallants of the Court played at _grelot_ of an evening; but in vain.Finally, he mounted his mule, and ambled off to the great square housebehind the Bourgogne, where Antony of Vendome lodged with his train.Here he made certain he would find De Ganache, who followed the prince;but he was once more disappointed. So, giving up the quest for thepresent, he supped alone at Crabeau's, in the Rue des Fosses St.Germain. Then he returned to the Louvre, and sat down to think, asmuch of his own affairs as of mine. So far as he himself was concernedhe felt he had fallen from the favour of the King. This had happenedbefore; but now for the first time he seemed to have no wish tore-establish himself, and a longing came over him to see his littlepepper-box of a tower in the Quercy, and to be once more the Sieur deBesme instead of the King of Folly.
"_Eh bien_, Pompon!" he said, addressing the ape, "the kingdom of foolsis too wide a realm for one man to rule. I shall abdicate, I think.What say you? The Roman went back to his plough; Besme will return tohis pears."
The ape simply blinked at him from his seat on the table, and, carryingout his humour, Le Brusquet continued:
"You do not approve--eh? What, then, is left for me?" But as he spokehis eyes fell on the ring, and bending over it he continued:
"Yes; this is where I have failed--save for this I should be offto-morrow--but to go with failure behind me----"
He stopped, for someone knocked at his door, and to Le Brusquet's"Enter!" De Lorgnac stepped in. His face was pale and grave, his bootsand clothes splashed with mud, and there were red spots on thewhiteness of his ruffles.
For one moment Le Brusquet stared at his friend, and then sprang up.
"What has happened?" he cried.
"Everything--and for the worst. They are taken."
"Taken! You mean----"
"I mean Mademoiselle de Paradis and Orrain, and others besides. LaValentinois was too quick, and struck at once."
Le Brusquet swore under his breath, and Lorgnac went on:
"It happened in this way. On leaving Orrain this evening he told methat De Ganache had been arrested."
"De Ganache arrested too!"
"Yes; at sundown near the wicket gate. The full significance of thenews did not strike me at first, for there were other reasons, which weknow, that might have led to his arrest. On my return to the Louvre,however, I heard sufficient to tell me that La Valentinois and herparty meant to act without delay."
"And never a word came to my ears, and I thought them sharp."
Lorgnac took no notice of the interruption, but continued:
"On learning this I hastened after Orrain, hoping to be in time toovertake him and save our friends; but it was not to be." And then hewent on to tell him what is already known. When he had done LeBrusquet said nothing, but remained in a moody silence, staring infront of him, and De Lorgnac turned from him to the window and lookedout upon the night. After a little he turned again, and putting hishand on Le Brusquet's shoulder, said:
"It looks, old friend, as if we were beaten."
Le Brusquet's eyes flashed. "Not yet! This is the last game I play,and it is not checkmate yet. Where have they taken Orrain?"
"The Chatelet."
"And mademoiselle?"
"I know not. I know not if she is alive or dead."
Le Brusquet groaned. "That is the worst tale of all. Orrain, I think,we can save."
"How so?"
For answer Le Brusquet held up my ring. "With this talisman!" Andslipping it on his finger he continued: "It is not for nothing that Istudied law at the College of Cambrai. As first prince of the blood,Vendome can claim Orrain from the Chatelet. If he has any gratitude hewill do so."
"I never thought of that. I saw the prisoners taken to the Chatelet.There were two, Orrain and La Mothe, who is as well known to be of theprince's household as Vendome himself is known to be a heretic."
"Yes; a heretic too great to be touched. But he must pay his debts. Iam going at once to see Vendome. Stay here if you like. You knowwhere to find the wine. No, Pompon, not to-night!" And pushing backthe ape, who had made ready to follow him, he went off.
It was gay that night in the salon of La Valentinois. The Queen hadgone to St. Germain-en-Laye, where the royal children were, and allthose who could had flocked to the apartments of the favourite, to paytheir court to the crescent moon. The King had retired earlier thanusual, for he meant to hunt on the morrow; but his absence only madethe revelry more unrestrained. The card-tables were full, and at oneof them sat Diane herself, playing with Caraffa against Vendome and theMarshal St. Andre, and surrounded by a crowd who watched the play andstaked amongst themselves upon the game. Immediately behind her stoodDe Mouchy, in the ermine and red of his office, and ever and again awhispered word passed between the twain.
There was a pile of gold before Vendome, who was playing recklessly butwith wonderful fortune. His face was flushed and his speech thick, forthe goblet on the small service-table at his elbow was ever beingfilled, and emptied as fast as refilled. Nevertheless, he won eachtime, though he seemed to fling his cards down on the table without alook or thought.
"The gods are with me," he exclaimed loudly as he pulled off a _coup_,made utterly by hazard, and drew the stakes towards him.
Diane laughed gaily, but the red fox Caraffa was a bad loser.
"Monseigneur," he said with a snarl, "there is a proverb about luck atcards."
"I know," was the swift and unexpected reply. "Mistrust thy fortunewhen the knave and the Church are together." And Vendome pointed tothe card the Legate had just played.
There was a titter all around; but Diane's white arm was stretchedforth, and she tapped Vendome with her fan.
"Fie, Monseigneur! Your wit is too cruel. His Eminence but referredto the old saw: lucky at cards, unlucky in love."
The prince gallantly kissed her jewelled hand. "Madame, that is true,for until I met you I never knew how unlucky I was."
La Valentinois did not note the glance in Vendome's eye, and, vain as apeacock, blushed as she alone could blush. But a murmured word from DeMouchy caught her ear, and leaning back in her chair, her face halfturned towards De Mouchy, and her fan outspread between herself and theprince, she asked in a quick whisper:
"Is it over?"
"Yes! He has come."
As De Mouchy spoke the crowd parted, and the Vidame appeared, and bowedbefore Diane.
"It was impossible to come sooner, madame; I had a little affair, andit was necessary to change my attire."
"A successful affair, I trust, Monsieur le Vidame."
Simon was about to answer, but a high-pitched voice broke in: "Moresuccessful than even the Vidame's great feat of arms in the forest ofFontevrault." And Le Brusquet made his way through the press, andstood behind the prince's chair.
Diane rose from her seat, and Simon glared at Le Brusquet, whilst adozen voices called out:
"What was that, Le Brusquet? We have not heard."
"That is owing to Monsieur le Vidame's modesty; but this feat eclipsesall the others of which he is the hero. This evening the Vidame brokeup the heretic church in the Mathurins; nearly all the accursed broodwere slain, women as well as men; but there are still enough prisonersto give us a rare bonfire by Saturday. Is it not so, monsieur?" AndLe Brusquet turned to the Vidame.
"Is this true, Le Brusquet?" It was Vendome who asked. He too hadrisen, and his voice was trembling with anger.
"Assuredly, Monseigneur! Ask the Vidame! It was a great stroke.Amongst others they have taken La Mothe the Christaudin----" Hestopped
, for the prince broke in furiously upon his speech.
"This is foul treachery! The edicts are suspended! The King's word isgiven!"
"And is recalled. The edicts were re-enforced to-day. It is strange,Monseigneur, that you, as the First Prince of the Blood, did not knowthis!"
It was impossible to mistake the insult in this speech and in Simon'smanner as he made it. For a moment it was as if Vendome's hot temperwould have made him forget his rank. He raised his hand as though hewould have struck the Vidame; but those around Simon hustled him aside,and it was in a scene of confusion that Monseigneur turned to Diane.
"I understand all this now," he said, pointing to the card-table,covered with the scattered cards and gold, "and I know to whom I owethis. Think not, madame, to fool me longer; but remember that all therivers in France will not quench the fires you have lit to-day."
Then calling to De Mouy, Albain, and others of his gentlemen he bowedcoldly to La Valentinois, and left the room amidst a dead silence.
When he had gone a babel of tongues broke forth, and there were loudand angry cries for Le Brusquet, whose "fool's prank," as they calledit, had caused this storm. Le Brusquet, however, was not to be seen.He had stolen in, thrown his apple of discord, and stolen forth againlike a ghost. None knew or understood better than he the waywardcharacter of Vendome, and that never was the prince capable of actingwith decision unless his self-love were hurt. So he had made his plan,and acted, and now stood in the shadow of a pillar in the courtyardwaiting for the prince. He had not long to wait, for Vendome camestorming out, almost on his heels, and called for his horse. Therewere quite a hundred or more gentlemen in his train, and as the horseswere being brought up Le Brusquet stepped to the side of Vendome andheld up his signet.
"Monseigneur," he said, "here is something of yours that has come backto you."
The prince almost snatched it from him, and glanced at it by the lightof the flambeaux. One look, and he turned to Le Brusquet.
"He too!"
"Monseigneur! In the Chatelet, where La Mothe is. Forget not yourrights, Monseigneur!"
"I am not likely to! Here! A spare horse for Le Brusquet!" And hesprang into his saddle.
Someone brought up a nag, Le Brusquet mounted, and the word being givenfor the Chatelet they went out at a trot, the prince riding in frontbetween De Mouy and Albain, his hat pulled over his eyes, and insilence.
Whilst all this was happening it fared ill enough with me. Thoughfelled by the blow on my head I was not stunned, only so dazed that myrecapture was an easy matter. This time no risks were taken, and withmy hands tied behind me by means of a long scarf, the other end ofwhich was looped round the high pommel of a trooper's saddle, I wasperforce compelled to accompany my captors as best I could, bleedingand dizzy from my hurt.
At length we arrived at the Chatelet, followed to the very gates by themob. As my blurred vision saw through the moonlight those sombrewalls, citadel and prison at once, my heart sank. Hope was left behindin those fearful oubliettes, whose sinister names carried utter despairwith them. There was the Grieche, the Barbary, the Chausse d'Hypocras,where the prisoners, ankle deep in water, were neither able to standupright nor to sit; the Fosse, down which one was lowered by a rope,and the hideous Fin d'Aise in which no man retained his sanity. So ithad come to this! And in sullen despair I stood amongst the guards,awaiting Martines' pleasure. At first it seemed as if I were the onlyprisoner; but any doubts on that point were soon set at rest, foranother unfortunate was dragged up and placed beside me. I felt ratherthan saw it was La Mothe--but, unlike myself, he was not bound--andthen I heard Martines ask:
"Are these the only two prisoners?"
"Monsieur!" answered a subordinate officer.
The lieutenant of the Chatelet was not an unkindly man, and mutteringsomething about "hangman's work" he came up and surveyed us by thelight of the torches. Then he ordered my hands to be freed, anddrawing his subaltern aside gave him some commands in a low tone, andwent off.
As Martines turned away this person directed us to follow him, and,surrounded by guards, we entered a vaulted passage, and afterdescending and ascending many stairs found ourselves before a studdeddoor, so low that even a short man would have had to stoop hisshoulders to enter therein. A gaoler fumbled with the rusty lock,which for a space resisted all his efforts; but at last it yielded, andthe door was pushed open, clanging harshly as it swung back. Beyondlay a hideous dungeon, into which we were thrust, the officer followingus with a couple of guards, one of whom carried a lantern. The lightdiscovered a long and narrow prison, the ooze dripping from the walls,and the floor slippery with slime. A single slit in the wall, no widerthan three fingers of a man's hand and about a foot in length, let inlight and air. For the rest, a stone bench and a jug full of foulwater completed the furniture of this terrible chamber. Faint anddizzy, I made towards the bench, and sat thereon in the shadow as theofficer said:
"I must ask you to share this lodging for to-night. It is known as thePalace," he added, with a grin, and then pulling out his tablets heturned to La Mothe.
"Your name, monsieur."
"Godefrey de la Mothe, chaplain to Monseigneur the Duke of BourbonVendome."
"And yours?"
From my seat in the shadow I answered: "Bertrand d'Orrain."
La Mothe started and half faced me, but held himself in, and theofficer, having made his note, turned his back upon us and withdrew,followed by his men. We heard the door shut, a drawing of bolts, arattling of keys, and then came silence and darkness.
No!--not utter darkness; for through the narrow slit in the wall a rayof moonlight fell, lighting the figure of La Mothe where he stood,almost in the centre of the dungeon. He was looking towards me, hiseyes expectant and shining; but I could not speak, and sat like a stone.
At length he made a step in my direction.
"Orrain," he said, "have we met at last?"
With an effort I rose and took his outstretched hands, and in thatmoment I knew that the past was bridged over and my sin forgiven.
For long we sat together on the stone bench, and La Mothe told me ofhis life. How, though all thought him mortally wounded, he had ralliedat last, and, in thankfulness for his escape, resolved to devote theremainder of his days to God. The spirit of the age fell on his mind,keen and ecstatic at once. In every trivial event he saw the hand ofthe Almighty, but he saw too the corruption around him. It was forsuch as he that the light of the new faith shone with an alluringradiance, and soon there was no voice that spoke more loudly for thetruth than that of Godefrey de la Mothe. A fatalist above all things,even now, when everything seemed lost, he did not despair.
"Nay," he said, "the hour has not come for us to die. God has notbrought us together to perish." And the words carried hope with them,even amidst the darkness and lowering prison walls. Then he knelt downand prayed; but I could not, for my heart was raging within me.
At length he rose from his knees. "The Lord will hear and answer," hesaid simply; but I made no reply, sitting with my head between myhands, staring in front of me. So till the moon set; and I must haveslept. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and started up. It wasLa Mothe.
"Hark!" he said. "Do you not hear?"
I listened. There was a distinct murmuring, the clattering of hoofs,the neigh of a horse, and then a cry, faint but distinct:
"Vendome! Vendome! Bourbon! Notre Dame!"
We sprang to our feet. "The Lord, who preserved His chosen from out ofthe land of bondage, hath heard my cry, and we are saved!" exclaimed LaMothe, and making our way to the door we listened. All was stillnessonce more, a stillness that seemed to last for hours, though it was butfor a few minutes. At last we heard the tramp of many feet, louder andlouder they grew, and then there was a rattling of chains, and ourprison door fell open, letting in a stream of light. In the blaze inthe doorway stood Vendome and Martines, and behind them a crowd ofeager faces.
"These are the p
risoners, Monseigneur!" said Martines.
"And I, Antony de Bourbon-Vendome, First Prince of the Blood Royal ofFrance, stand here on my right and claim them. Gentlemen," and heturned to us, "you are free; follow me!"