Bardelys the Magnificent
CHAPTER X. THE RISEN DEAD
It was close upon ten o'clock as we rode into the yard of the imposingHotel de la Couronne at Grenade.
Castelroux engaged a private room on the first floor--a handsome chamberoverlooking the courtyard--and in answer to the inquiries that I madeI was informed by the landlord that Monsieur de Marsac was not yetarrived.
"My assignation was 'before noon,' Monsieur de Castelroux," said I."With your permission, I would wait until noon."
He made no difficulty. Two hours were of no account. We had all risenvery early, and he was, himself, he said, entitled to some rest.
Whilst I stood by the window it came to pass than a very tall,indifferently apparelled gentleman issued from the hostelry and haltedfor some moments in conversation with the ostler below. He walked withan enfeebled step, and leaned heavily for support upon a stout cane. Ashe turned to reenter the inn I had a glimpse of a face woefully pale,about which, as about the man's whole figure, there was a somethingthat was familiar--a something that puzzled me, and on which my mind wasstill dwelling when presently I sat down to breakfast with Castelroux.
It may have been a half-hour later, and, our meal being at an end, wewere sitting talking--I growing impatient the while that this Monsieurde Marsac should keep me waiting so--when of a sudden the rattleof hoofs drew me once more to the window. A gentleman, riding veryrecklessly, had just dashed through the porte-cochere, and was in theact of pulling up his horse. He was a lean, active man, very richlydressed, and with a face that by its swarthiness of skin and the sablehue of beard and hair looked almost black.
"Ah, you are there!" he cried, with something between a snarl and alaugh, and addressing somebody within the shelter of the porch. "Par lamort Dieu, I had hardly looked to find you!"
From the recess of the doorway I heard a gasp of amazement and a cry of"Marsac! You here?"
So this was the gentleman I was to see! A stable boy had taken hisreins, and he leapt nimbly to the ground. Into my range of visionhobbled now the enfeebled gentleman whom earlier I had noticed.
"My dear Stanislas!" he cried, "I cannot tell you how rejoiced I am tosee you!" and he approached Marsac with arms that were opened as if toembrace him.
The newcomer surveyed him a moment in wonder, with eyes grown dull.Then abruptly raising his hand, he struck the fellow on the breast, andthrust him back so violently that but for the stable-boy's interventionhe had of a certainty fallen. With a look of startled amazement on hishaggard face, the invalid regarded his assailant.
As for Marsac, he stepped close up to him.
"What is this?" he cried harshly. "What is this make-believe feebleness?That you are pale, poltroon, I do not wonder! But why these totteringlimbs? Why this assumption of weakness? Do you look to trick me by thesesigns?"
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" exclaimed the other, a note ofresponsive anger sounding in his voice. "Have you gone mad, Stanislas?"
"Abandon this pretence," was the contemptuous answer. "Two days ago atLavedan, my friend, they informed me how complete was your recovery;from what they told us, it was easy to guess why you tarried thereand left us without news of you. That was my reason, as you may havesurmised, for writing to you. My sister has mourned you for dead--wasmourning you for dead whilst you sat at the feet of your Roxalanne andmade love to her among the roses of Lavedan."
"Lavedan?" echoed the other slowly. Then, raising his voice, "what thedevil are you saying?" he blazed. "What do I know of Lavedan?"
In a flash it had come to me who that enfeebled gentleman was. Rodenard,the blunderer, had been at fault when he had said that Lesperon hadexpired. Clearly he could have no more than swooned; for here, in theflesh, was Lesperon himself, the man I had left for dead in that barn byMirepoix.
How or where he had recovered were things that at the moment did notexercise my mind--nor have I since been at any pains to unravel themystery of it; but there he was, and for the moment that fact wasall-sufficing. What complications would come of his presence Heavenalone could foretell.
"Put an end to this play-acting!" roared the savage Marsac. "It willavail you nothing. My sister's tears may have weighed lightly with you,but you shall pay the price of them, and of the slight you have put uponher."
"My God, Marsac!" cried the other, roused to an equal fierceness. "Willyou explain?"
"Aye," snarled Marsac, and his sword flashed from his scabbard, "I'llexplain. As God lives, I'll explain--with this!" And he whirled hisblade under the eyes of the invalid. "Come, my master, the comedy'splayed out. Cast aside that crutch and draw; draw, man, or, sangdieu,I'll run you through as you stand!"
There was a commotion below. The landlord and a posse of hissatellites--waiters, ostlers, and stableboys--rushed between them, andsought to restrain the bloodthirsty Marsac. But he shook them off asa bull shakes off a pack of dogs, and like an angry bull, too, did hestand his ground and bellow. In a moment his sweeping sword had cleareda circle about him. In its lightning dartings hither and thither atrandom, it had stung a waiter in the calf, and when the fellow saw theblood staining his hose, he added to the general din his shrieks thathe was murdered. Marsac swore and threatened in a breath, and a kitchenwench, from a point of vantage on the steps, called shame upon him andabused him roundly for a cowardly assassin to assail a poor sufferer whocould hardly stand upright.
"Po' Cap de Dieu!" swore Castelroux at my elbow. "Saw you ever such anado? What has chanced?"
But I never stayed to answer him. Unless I acted quickly blood wouldassuredly be shed. I was the one man who could explain matters, and itwas a mercy for Lesperon that I should have been at hand in the hour ofhis meeting that fire-eater Marsac. I forgot the circumstances in whichI stood to Castelroux; I forgot everything but the imminent necessitythat I should intervene. Some seven feet below our window was the roofof the porch; from that to the ground it might be some eight feet more.Before my Gascon captain knew what I was about, I had swung myself downfrom the window on to the projecting porch. A second later, I createda diversion by landing in the midst of the courtyard fray, with thealarmed Castelroux--who imagined that I was escaping--following by thesame unusual road, and shouting as he came "Monsieur de Lesperon!Hi! Monsieur de Lesperon! Mordieu! Remember your parole, Monsieur deLesperon!"
Nothing could have been better calculated to stem Marsac's fury; nothingcould have so predisposed him to lend an ear to what I had to say, forit was very evident that Castelroux's words were addressed to me, andthat it was I whom he called by the name of Lesperon. In an instant Iwas at Marsac's side. But before I could utter a word, "What the devildoes this mean?" he asked, eyeing me with fierce suspicion.
"It means, monsieur, that there are more Lesperons than one in France. Iam the Lesperon who was at Lavedan. If you doubt me, ask this gentleman,who arrested me there last night. Ask him, too, why we have halted here.Ask him, if you will, to show you the letter that you left at Lavedanmaking an assignation here before noon to-day, which letter I received."
The suspicion faded from Marsac's eyes, and they grew round with wonderas he listened to this prodigious array of evidence. Lesperon looked onin no less amazement, yet I am sure from the manner of his glance thathe did not recognize in me the man that had succoured him at Mirepoix.That, after all, was natural enough; for the minds of men in suchreduced conditions as had been his upon that night are not prone toreceive very clear impressions, and still less prone to retain suchimpressions as they do receive.
Before Marsac could answer me, Castelroux was at my side.
"A thousand apologies!" he laughed. "A fool might have guessed theerrand that took you so quickly through that window, and none but a foolwould have suspected you of seeking to escape. It was unworthy in me,Monsieur de Lesperon."
I turned to him while those others still stood gaping, and led himaside.
"Monsieur le Capitaine," said I, "you find it troublesome enough toreconcile your conscience with such arrests as you are charged to make,is it not so.
r /> "Mordieu!" he cried, by way of emphatically assenting.
"Now, if you should chance to overhear words betraying to you certainpeople whom otherwise you would never suspect of being rebels, yoursoldier's duty would, nevertheless, compel you to apprehend them, wouldit not?"
"Why, true. I am afraid it would," he answered, with a grimace.
"But, if forewarned that by being present in a certain place you shouldoverhear such words, what course would you pursue?"
"Avoid it like a pestilence, monsieur," he answered promptly.
"Then, Monsieur le Capitaine, may I trespass upon your generosity tobeseech you to let me take these litigants to our room upstairs, and toleave us alone there for a half-hour?"
Frankness was my best friend in dealing with Castelroux--frankness andhis distaste for the business they had charged him with. As for Marsacand Lesperon, they were both eager enough to have the mystery explained,and when Castelroux having consented--I invited them to my chamber, theycame readily enough.
Since Monsieur de Lesperon did not recognize me, there was no reasonwhy I should enlighten him touching my identity, and every reason whyI should not. As soon as they were seated, I went to the heart of thematter at once and without preamble.
"A fortnight ago, gentlemen," said I, "I was driven by a pack ofdragoons across the Garonne. I was wounded in the shoulder and veryexhausted, and I knocked at the gates of Lavedan to crave shelter. Thatshelter, gentlemen, was afforded me, and when I had announced myself asMonsieur de Lesperon, it was all the more cordially because one Monsieurde Marsac, who was a friend of the Vicomte de Lavedan, and a partisanin the lost cause of Orleans, happened often to have spoken of acertain Monsieur de Lesperon as his very dear friend. I have no doubt,gentlemen, that you will think harshly of me because I did not enlightenthe Vicomte. But there were reasons for which I trust you will not pressme, since I shall find it difficult to answer you with truth."
"But is your name Lesperon?" cried Lesperon.
"That, monsieur, is a small matter. Whether my name is Lesperon ornot, I confess to having practised a duplicity upon the Vicomte and hisfamily, since I am certainly not the Lesperon whose identity I accepted.But if I accepted that identity, monsieur, I also accepted yourliabilities, and so I think that you should find it in your heart toextend me some measure of forgiveness. As Rene de Lesperon, of Lesperonin Gascony, I was arrested last night at Lavedan, and, as you mayobserve, I am being taken to Toulouse to stand the charge of hightreason. I have not demurred; I have not denied in the hour of troublethe identity that served me in my hour of need. I am taking thebitter with the sweet, and I assure you, gentlemen, that the bitterpredominates in a very marked degree."
"But this must not be," cried Lesperon, rising. "I know not what useyou may have made of my name, but I have no reason to think that you canhave brought discredit upon it, and so--"
"I thank you, monsieur, but--"
"And so I cannot submit that you shall go to Toulouse in my stead. Whereis this officer whose prisoner you are? Pray summon him, monsieur, andlet us set the matter right."
"This is very generous," I answered calmly. "But I have crimes enoughupon my head, and so, if the worst should befall me, I am simply atoningin one person for the errors of two."
"But that is no concern of mine!" he cried.
"It is so much your concern that if you commit so egregious a blunder asto denounce yourself, you will have ruined yourself, without materiallybenefitting me."
He still objected, but in this strain I argued for some time, and tosuch good purpose that in the end I made him realize that by betrayinghimself he would not save me, but only join me on the journey to thescaffold.
"Besides, gentlemen," I pursued, "my case is far from hopeless. I haveevery confidence that, as matters stand, by putting forth my hand at theright moment, by announcing my identity at the proper season, I can, ifI am so inclined, save my neck from the headsman."
"If you are so inclined?" they both cried, their looks charged withinquiry.
"Let that be," I answered; "it does not at present concern us. WhatI desire you to understand, Monsieur de Lesperon, is that if I go toToulouse alone, when the time comes to proclaim myself, and it is foundthat I am not Rene de Lesperon, of Lesperon in Gascony, they will assumethat you are dead, and there will be no count against me.
"But if you come with me, and thereby afford proof that you are alive,my impersonation of you may cause me trouble. They may opine that I havebeen an abettor of treason, that I have attempted to circumvent theends of justice, and that I may have impersonated you in order to renderpossible your escape. For that, you may rest assured, they will punishme.
"You will see, therefore, that my own safety rests on your passingquietly out of France and leaving the belief behind you that you aredead--a belief that will quickly spread once I shall have cast off youridentity. You apprehend me?"
"Vaguely, monsieur; and perhaps you are right. What do you say,Stanislas?"
"Say?" cried the fiery Marsac. "I am weighed down with shame, my poorRene, for having so misjudged you."
More he would have said in the same strain, but Lesperon cut him shortand bade him attend to the issue now before him. They discussed itat some length, but always under the cloud in which my mysteriousnessenveloped it, and, in the end, encouraged by my renewed assurances thatI could best save myself if Lesperon were not taken with me, the Gasconconsented to my proposals.
Marsac was on his way to Spain. His sister, he told us, awaited himat Carcassonne. Lesperon should set out with him at once, and inforty-eight hours they would be beyond the reach of the King's anger.
"I have a favour to ask of you, Monsieur de Marsac," said I, rising;for our business was at an end. "It is that if you should have anopportunity of communicating with Mademoiselle de Lavedan, you willlet her know that I am not--not the Lesperon that is betrothed to yoursister."
"I will inform her of it, monsieur," he answered readily; and then, of asudden, a look of understanding and of infinite pity came into his eyes."My God!" he cried.
"What is it, monsieur?" I asked, staggered by that sudden outcry.
"Do not ask me, monsieur, do not ask me. I had forgotten for the moment,in the excitement of all these revelations. But--" He stopped short.
"Well, monsieur?"
He seemed to ponder a moment, then looking at me again with that samecompassionate glance, "You had better know," said he. "And yet--it is adifficult thing to tell you. I understand now much that I had not dreamtof. You--you have no suspicion of how you came to be arrested?"
"For my alleged participation in the late rebellion?"
"Yes, yes. But who gave the information of your whereabouts? Who toldthe Keeper of the Seals where you were to be found?"
"Oh, that?" I answered easily. "Why, I never doubted it. It was thecoxcomb Saint-Eustache. I whipped him--"
I stopped short. There was something in Marsac's black face, somethingin his glance, that forced the unspoken truth upon my mind.
"Mother in heaven!" I cried. "Do you mean that it was Mademoiselle deLavedan?"
He bowed his head in silence. Did she hate me, then, so much as that?Would nothing less than my death appease her, and had I utterly crushedthe love that for a little while she had borne me, that she could bringherself to hand me over to the headsman?
God! What a stab was that! It turned me sick with grief--aye, and withsome rage not against her, oh, not against her; against the fates thathad brought such things to pass.
I controlled myself while their eyes were yet upon me. I went to thedoor and held it open for them, and they, perceiving something of mydisorder, were courteous enough to omit the protracted leave-takingsthat under other auspices there might have been. Marsac paused a momenton the threshold as if he would have offered me some word of comfort.Then, perceiving, perhaps, how banal must be all comfort that was ofwords alone, and how it might but increase the anger of the wound it wasmeant to balm, he sighed a simple "Adieu, monsieur!"
and went his way.
When they were gone, I returned to the table, and, sitting down, Iburied my head in my arms, and there I lay, a prey to the most poignantgrief that in all my easy, fortunate life I had ever known. That sheshould have done this thing! That the woman I loved, the pure, sweet,innocent girl that I had wooed so ardently in my unworthiness atLavedan, should have stooped to such an act of betrayal! To what had Inot reduced her, since such things could be!
Then, out of my despair grew comfort, slowly at first, and morevigorously anon. The sudden shock of the news had robbed me of some ofmy wit, and had warped my reasoning. Later, as the pain of the blow grewduller, I came to reflect that what she had done was but a proof--anoverwhelming proof--of how deeply she had cared. Such hatred as thiscan be but born of a great love; reaction is ever to be measured by theaction that occasions it, and a great revulsion can only come of a greataffection. Had she been indifferent to me, or had she but entertainedfor me a passing liking, she would not have suffered so.
And so I came to realize how cruel must have been the pang that haddriven her to this. But she had loved me; aye, and she loved me still,for all that she thought she hated, and for all that she had acted asif she hated. But even if I were wrong--even if she did hate me--what afresh revulsion would not be hers when anon she learnt that--whatever mysins--I had not played lightly with her love; that I was not, as she hadimagined, the betrothed of another woman!
The thought fired me like wine. I was no longer listless--no longerindifferent as to whether I lived or died. I must live. I must enlightenthe Keeper of the Seals and the judges at Toulouse concerning myidentity. Why, indeed, had I ever wavered? Bardelys the Magnificent mustcome to life again, and then--What then?
As suddenly as I had been exalted was I cast down. There was a rumourabroad that Bardelys was dead. In the wake of that rumour I shrewdlyguessed that the report of the wager that had brought him into Languedocwould not be slow to follow. What then? Would she love me any thebetter? Would she hate me any the less? If now she was wounded by thebelief that I had made sport of her love, would not that same belief bewith her again when she came to know the truth?
Aye, the tangle was a grievous one. Yet I took heart. My old resolvereturned to me, and I saw the need for urgency--in that alone couldlie now my redemption in her eyes. My wager must be paid before I againrepaired to her, for all that it should leave me poor indeed. In themean while, I prayed God that she might not hear of it ere I returned totell her.