CHAPTER XXI -- COUNT VICTOR CHANGES HIS QUARTERS
Count Victor said _Au revoir_ to Doom Castle that afternoon.
Mungo had rowed him down by boat to the harbour and left him with hisvalise at the inn, pleased mightily that his cares as garrison were tobe relieved by the departure of one who so much attracted the unpleasantattention of nocturnal foes, and returned home with the easiest mind hehad enjoyed since the fateful day the Frenchman waded to the rock. Asfor Count Victor, his feelings were mingled. He had left Doom from adouble sense of duty, and yet had he been another man he would havebided for love. After last evening's uproar, plain decency demanded thatJonah should obviate a repetition by removing himself elsewhere. Therewas also another consideration as pregnant, yet more delicate: thetraditions of his class and family as well as his natural sense ofhonour compelled his separation from the fascinating influence of theingenuous woman whose affections were pledged in another quarter. Ina couple of days he had fallen desperately in love with Olivia--aprecipitation that might seem ridiculous in any man of the world whowas not a Montaiglon satiated by acquaintance with scores of DameStratagems, fair _intrigueuses_ and puppets without hearts belowtheir modish bodices. Olivia charmed by her freshness, and the simplefrankness of her nature, with its deep emotions, gave him infinitelymore surprise and thrill than any woman he had met before. "Wisdomwanting absolute honesty," he told himself, "is only craft: I discoverthat a monstrous deal of cleverness I have seen in her sex is onlyanother kind of cosmetic daubed on with a sponge."
And then, too, Olivia that morning seemed to have become all of a suddenvery cold to him. He was piqued at her silence, he was more than piquedto discover that she too, like Mungo, obviously considered his removal arelief.
Behold him, then, with his quarters taken in the Boar's Head Inn, whenceby good luck the legal gang of Edinburgh had some hours before departed,standing in the entrance feeling himself more the foreigner than ever,with the vexing reflection that he had not made any progress in theobject of his embassy, but, on the contrary, had lost no little degreeof his zest therein.
The sound of the flageolet was at once a blow and a salute. Thatunaccomplished air had helped to woo Olivia in her bower, but yet itgave a link with her, the solace of the thought that here was one sheknew. Was it not something of good fortune that it should lead him toidentify and meet one whose very name was still unknown to him, but withwhom he was, in a faint measure, on slight terms of confederacy throughthe confession of Olivia and the confidence of Mungo Boyd?
"_Toujours l'audace!_" thought he, and he asked for the innkeeper'sintroduction to the performer. "If it may be permitted, and thegentleman is not too pressingly engaged."
"Indeed," said the innkeeper--a jovial rosy gentleman, typical of hiskind--"indeed, and it may very well be permitted, and it would not bealtogether to my disadvantage that his lordship should be out of there,for the Bailies cannot very well be drinking deep and listening to Mr.Simon MacTag-gart's songs, as I have experienced afore. The name?"
"He never heard it," said Count Victor, "but it happens to beMontaiglon, and I was till this moment in the odd position of notknowing his, though we have a common friend."
A few minutes later the Chamberlain stood before him with the end of theflageolet protruding from the breast of his coat.
As they met in the narrow confine of the lobby--on either hand of themclosed rooms noisy with clink of drinking-ware, with laugh and jest andall that rumour of carouse--Montaiglon's first impression was exceedingfavourable. This Chamberlain pleased his eye to start with; his mannerwas fine-bred in spite of a second's confusion; his accent was cordial,and the flageolet displayed with no attempt at concealment, captured theheart of the Frenchman, who had been long enough in these isles toweary of a national character that dare not surrender itself to anyunbusiness-like frisking in the meadows. And one thing more there wasrevealed--here was the kilted gallant of the miniature in Olivia'schamber, and here was the unfriendly horseman of the wood, here in finewas the lover of the story, and the jealousy (if it was a jealousy) hehad felt in the wood, forgotten, for he smiled.
But now he was face to face with Olivia's lover, Count Victor discoveredthat he had not the slightest excuse for referring to her who was theonly association between them! The lady herself and Mungo Boyd hadconveyed a sense of very close conspiracy between all four, but fromneither the lady nor any one else in Doom had he any passport to thefriendship of this gentleman. It was only for a moment the difficultiesof the situation mastered him.
"I have permitted myself, monsieur, to intrude upon you upon anexcuse that must seem scandalously inadequate," said he. "My name isMontaiglon--"
"With the particle, I think?" said Sim MacTaggart.
Count Victor started slightly.
"But yes," said he, "it is so, though I never march with much baggage,and a De to a traveller is like a second hat. It is, then, that it isperhaps unnecessary to say more of myself?"
The Chamberlain with much _bonhomie_ grasped his hand.
"M. Montaiglon," said he, "I am very proud to meet you. I fancy acertain lady and I owe something to your consideration, and SimonMacTaggart stands upon no ceremony."
Count Victor winced slightly at the conjunction, but otherwise he wasdelighted.
"I am ravished, monsieur!" said he. "Ceremony is like some people'sassumption of dignity--the false bottoms they put in their boots toconceal the fact that they are under the average height, is it not?"
Arm in arm they went out in front of the inn and walked along the bay,and the Provost and the Bailies were left mourning for their king.
"You must not fancy the name and the reputation of the gentlemen ofCammercy unknown in these parts," said the Chamberlain. "When thelady--who need not be more specifically mentioned--told me you had cometo Doom, it was like the over-come of a song at first that I had heardof you before. And now that I see you, I mind the story went, when I wasat Dunkerque some years ago, that Count Victor Jean, if all his othernatural gifts had failed him, might have made a noble fortune as a_maitre d'escrime_. Sir, I am an indifferent hand with the rapiermyself, but I aye liked to see a man that was its master."
"You are very good," said Montaiglon, "and yet such a reputation,exaggerated as I fear it may be, is not, by my faith! the one I shoulddesire under the circumstances that, as you have doubtless furtherheard, bring me here."
"About that, M. Montaiglon, it is perhaps as well that the Duke ofArgyll's Chamberlain should know nothing at all. You are a wild lot, mygallant Jacobites"--he laughed softly as he spoke. "Between ourselvesI have been more than bottle friends with some lovable persons onyour side of the house, and you will be good enough to consider SimonMacTaggart no politician, though the Duke's Chamberlain _ex officio_ isbound to be enemy to every man who will not swear King George the bestof monarchs."
"From what I know of affairs in Europe now, and for all our heroicsof invasion," said Count Victor, "his Majesty is like to remain inundisputed possession, and you may take my word for it, no affair ofhigh politics is responsible for my being here. Monsieur himself hasdoubtless had affairs. I am seeking but for one man--"
"Drimdarroch," said the Chamberlain. "So the lady told me. OurDrimdarroch will not provide very much interest for a _maitred'escrime_," and he laughed as he pictured Petullo the writer shiveringbefore a flash of steel.
"Ah! you speak of the lawyer: Doom told me of him, and as he was goodenough to interest himself in my lodging in this place, I must makehim my compliments at the earliest and tell him I have settled down formyself in the _auberge_."
"To that much at least I can help you, though in the other affairI'm neutral in spite of my interest in any ploy of the kind. There'sPetullo's house across the way; I'm on certain terms with him; if youcare, we could see him now."
"_Le plus tot sera le mieux!_" said Count Victor.
The Chamberlain led the way.