CHAPTER XVII. THE BABBLING OF GANYMEDE
Never until that hour, as I stood in the porch of the Hotel de l'Epee,hearkening to my henchman's narrative and to the bursts of laughterwhich ever and anon it provoked from his numerous listeners, had Idreamed of the raconteur talents which Rodenard might boast. Yet wasI very far from being appreciative now that I discovered them, for thestory that he told was of how one Marcel Saint-Pol, Marquis de Bardelys,had laid a wager with the Comte de Chatellerault that he would woo andwin Mademoiselle de Lavedan to wife within three months. Nor did hestop there. Rodenard, it would seem, was well informed; he had drawnall knowledge of the state of things from Castelroux's messenger, andlater--I know not from whom--at Toulouse, since his arrival.
He regaled the company, therefore, with a recital of our finding thedying Lesperon, and of how I had gone off alone, and evidently assumedthe name and role of that proscribed rebel, and thus conducted mywooing under sympathy inspiring circumstances at Lavedan. Then came, heannounced, the very cream of the jest, when I was arrested as Lesperonand brought to Toulouse and to trial in Lesperon's stead; he told themhow I had been sentenced to death in the other man's place, and heassured them that I would certainly have been beheaded upon the morrowbut that news had been borne to him--Rodenard--of my plight, and he wascome to deliver me.
My first impulse upon hearing him tell of the wager had been to strideinto the room and silence him by my coming. That I did not obey thatimpulse was something that presently I was very bitterly to regret. Howit came that I did not I scarcely know. I was tempted, perhaps, to seehow far this henchman whom for years I had trusted was unworthy ofthat trust. And so, there in the porch, I stayed until he had ended bytelling the company that he was on his way to inform the King--who bygreat good chance was that day arrived in Toulouse--of the mistake thathad been made, and thus obtain my immediate enlargement and earn myundying gratitude.
Again I was on the point of entering to administer a very stern reproofto that talkative rogue, when of a sudden there was a commotion within.I caught a scraping of chairs, a dropping of voices, and then suddenly Ifound myself confronted by Roxalanne de Lavedan herself, issuing with apage and a woman in attendance.
For just a second her eyes rested on me, and the light coming throughthe doorway at her back boldly revealed my countenance. And a verystartled countenance it must have been, for in that fraction of time Iknew that she had heard all that Rodenard had been relating. Underthat instant's glance of her eyes I felt myself turn pale; a shiverran through me, and the sweat started cold upon my brow. Then her gazepassed from me, and looked beyond into the street, as though she had notknown me; whether in her turn she paled or reddened I cannot say,for the light was too uncertain. Next followed what seemed to me aninterminable pause, although, indeed, it can have been no more than amatter of seconds--aye, and of but few. Then, her gown drawn well aside,she passed me in that same irrecognizing way, whilst I, abashed, shrankback into the shadows of the porch, burning with shame and rage andhumiliation.
From under her brows her woman glanced at me inquisitively; her liveriedpage, his nose in the air, eyed me so pertly that I was hard put to itnot to hasten with my foot his descent of the steps.
At last they were gone, and from the outside the shrill voice of herpage was wafted to me. He was calling to the ostler for her carriage.Standing, in my deep mortification, where she had passed me, Iconjectured from that demand that she was journeying to Lavedan.
She knew now how she had been cheated on every hand, first by me andlater, that very afternoon, by Chatellerault, and her resolve to quitToulouse could but signify that she was done with me for good. That ithad surprised her to find me at large already, I fancied I had seen inher momentary glance, but her pride had been quick to conquer and stifleall signs of that surprise.
I remained where she had passed me until her coach had rumbled away intothe night, and during the moments that elapsed I had stood arguing withmyself and resolving upon my course of action. But despair was fasteningupon me.
I had come to the Hotel de l'Epee, exulting, joyous, and confident ofvictory. I had come to confess everything to her, and by virtue of whatI had done that confession was rendered easy. I could have said to her:"The woman whom I wagered to win was not you, Roxalanne, but a certainMademoiselle de Lavedan. Your love I have won, but that you may fosterno doubts of my intentions, I have paid my wager and acknowledge defeat.I have made over to Chatellerault and to his heirs for all time myestates of Bardelys."
Oh, I had rehearsed it in my mind, and I was confident--I knew--that Ishould win her. And now--the disclosure of that shameful traffic comingfrom other lips than mine had ruined everything by forestalling myavowal.
Rodenard should pay for it--by God, he should! Once again did I become aprey to the passion of anger which I have ever held to be unworthy in agentleman, but to which it would seem that I was growing accustomed togive way. The ostler was mounting the steps at the moment. He carried inhis hand a stout horsewhip with a long knotted thong. Hastily mutteringa "By your leave," I snatched it from him and sprang into the room.
My intendant was still talking of me. The room was crowded, for Rodenardalone had brought with him my twenty followers. One of these looked upas I brushed past him, and uttered a cry of surprise upon recognizingme. But Rodenard talked on, engrossed in his theme to the exclusion ofall else.
"Monsieur le Marquis," he was saying, "is a gentleman whom it is,indeed, an honour to serve--"
A scream burst from him with the last word, for the lash of my whip hadburnt a wheal upon his well-fed sides.
"It is an honour that shall be yours no more, you dog!" I cried.
He leapt high into the air as my whip cut him again. He swung round, hisface twisted with pain, his flabby cheeks white with fear, and his eyeswild with anger, for as yet the full force of the situation had not beenborne in upon him. Then, seeing me there, and catching something of theawful passion that must have been stamped upon my face, he dropped onhis knees and cried out something that I did not understand for I waspast understanding much just then.
The lash whistled through the air again and caught him about theshoulders. He writhed and roared in his anguish of both flesh andspirit. But I was pitiless. He had ruined my life for me with histalking, and, as God lived, he should pay the only price that it lay inhis power to pay--the price of physical suffering. Again and again mywhip hissed about his head and cut into his soft white flesh,whilst roaring for mercy he moved and rocked on his knees before me.Instinctively he approached me to hamper my movements, whilst I movedback to give my lash the better play. He held out his arms and joinedhis fat hands in supplication, but the lash caught them in its sinuoustormenting embrace, and started a red wheal across their whiteness.He tucked them into his armpits with a scream, and fell prone upon theground.
Then I remember that some of my men essayed to restrain me, which to mypassion was as the wind to a blaze. I cracked my whip about their heads,commanding them to keep their distance lest they were minded to sharehis castigation. And so fearful an air must I have worn, that, daunted,they hung back and watched their leader's punishment in silence.
When I think of it now, I take no little shame at the memory of how Ibeat him. It is, indeed, with deep reluctance and yet deeper shame thatI have brought myself to write of it. If I offend you with thisaccount of that horsewhipping, let necessity be my apology; for thehorsewhipping itself I have, unfortunately, no apology, save the blindfury that obsessed me--which is no apology at all.
Upon the morrow I repented me already with much bitterness. But in thathour I knew no reason. I was mad, and of my madness was born this harshbrutality.
"You would talk of me and my affairs in a tavern, you hound!" I cried,out of breath both by virtue of my passion and my exertions. "Let thememory of this act as a curb upon your poisonous tongue in future."
"Monseigneur!" he screamed. "Misericorde, monseigneur!"
"Aye, you shall have mercy--just
so much mercy as you deserve. Have Itrusted you all these years, and did my father trust you before me,for this? Have you grown sleek and fat and smug in my service that youshould requite me thus? Sangdieu, Rodenard! My father had hanged youfor the half of the talking that you have done this night. You dog! Youmiserable knave!"
"Monseigneur," he shrieked again, "forgive! For your sainted mother'ssake, forgive! Monseigneur, I did not know--"
"But you are learning, cur; you are learning by the pain of your fatcarcase; is it not so, carrion?"
He sank down, his strength exhausted, a limp, moaning, bleeding mass offlesh, into which my whip still cut relentlessly.
I have a picture in my mind of that ill-lighted room, of the startledfaces on which the flickering glimmer of the candles shed odd shadows;of the humming and cracking of my whip; of my own voice raised in oathsand epithets of contempt; of Rodenard's screams; of the cries raisedhere and there in remonstrance or in entreaty, and of some more boldthat called shame upon me. Then others took up that cry of "Shame!" sothat at last I paused and stood there drawn up to my full height, as ifin challenge. Towering above the heads of any in that room, I held mywhip menacingly. I was unused to criticism, and their expressions ofcondemnation roused me.
"Who questions my right?" I demanded arrogantly, whereupon they one andall fell silent. "If any here be bold enough to step out, he shall havemy answer." Then, as none responded, I signified my contempt for them bya laugh.
"Monseigneur!" wailed Rodenard at my feet, his voice growing feeble.
By way of answer, I gave him a final cut, then I flung the whip--which had grown ragged in the fray--back to the ostler from whom I hadborrowed it.
"Let that suffice you, Rodenard," I said, touching him with my foot."See that I never set eyes upon you again, if you cherish your miserablelife!"
"Not that, monseigneur." groaned the wretch. "Oh, not that! You havepunished me; you have whipped me until I cannot stand; forgive me,monseigneur, forgive me now!"
"I have forgiven you, but I never wish to see you again, lest I shouldforget that I have forgiven you. Take him away, some of you," I bade mymen, and in swift, silent obedience two of them stepped forward and borethe groaning, sobbing fellow from the room. When that was done "Host," Icommanded, "prepare me a room. Attend me, a couple of you."
I gave orders thereafter for the disposal of my baggage, some of whichmy lacqueys brought up to the chamber that the landlord had in hastemade ready for me. In that chamber I sat until very late; a prey to theutmost misery and despair. My rage being spent, I might have taken somethought for poor Ganymede and his condition, but my own affairs crowdedover-heavily upon my mind, and sat the undisputed rulers of my thoughtsthat night.
At one moment I considered journeying to Lavedan, only to dismiss theidea the next. What could it avail me now? Would Roxalanne believe thetale I had to tell? Would she not think, naturally enough, that I wasbut making the best of the situation, and that my avowal of the truthof a story which it was not in my power to deny was not spontaneous, butforced from me by circumstances? No, there was nothing more to be done.A score of amours had claimed my attention in the past and receivedit; yet there was not one of those affairs whose miscarriage would haveafforded me the slightest concern or mortification. It seemed like anirony, like a Dies ire, that it should have been left to this first truepassion of my life to have gone awry.
I slept ill when at last I sought my bed, and through the night I nursedmy bitter grief, huddling to me the corpse of the love she had borne meas a mother may the corpse of her first-born.
On the morrow I resolved to leave Toulouse--to quit this provincewherein so much had befallen me and repair to Beaugency, there to growold in misanthropical seclusion. I had done with Courts, I had donewith love and with women; I had done, it seemed to me, with life itself.Prodigal had it been in gifts that I had not sought of it. It had spreadmy table with the richest offerings, but they had been little to mypalate, and I had nauseated quickly. And now, when here in this remotecorner of France it had shown me the one prize I coveted, it had beenswift to place it beyond my reach, thereby sowing everlasting discontentand misery in my hitherto pampered heart.
I saw Castelroux that day, but I said no word to him of my affliction.He brought me news of Chatellerault. The Count was lying in a dangerouscondition at the Auberge Royale, and might not be moved. The physicianattending him all but despaired of his life.
"He is asking to see you," said Castelroux.
But I was not minded to respond. For all that he had deeply wrongedme, for all that I despised him very cordially, the sight of him in hispresent condition might arouse my pity, and I was in no mood to wasteupon such a one as Chatellerault even on his deathbed--a quality ofwhich I had so dire a need just then for my own case.
"I will not go," said I, after deliberation. "Tell him from me that Iforgive him freely if it be that he seeks my forgiveness; tell him thatI bear him no rancour, and--that he had better make his will, to save metrouble hereafter, if he should chance to die."
I said this because I had no mind, if he should perish intestate, to goin quest of his next heirs and advise them that my late Picardy estateswere now their property.
Castelroux sought yet to persuade me to visit the Count, but I heldfirmly to my resolve.
"I am leaving Toulouse to-day," I announced.
"Whither do you go?"
"To hell, or to Beaugency--I scarce know which, nor does it matter."
He looked at me in surprise, but, being a man of breeding, asked noquestions upon matters that he accounted secret.
"But the King?" he ventured presently.
"His Majesty has already dispensed me from my duties by him."
Nevertheless, I did not go that day. I maintained the intention untilsunset; then, seeing that it was too late, I postponed my departureuntil the morrow. I can assign no reason for my dallying mood. Perhapsit sprang from the inertness that pervaded me, perhaps some mysterioushand detained me. Be that as it may, that I remained another night atthe Hotel de l'Epee was one of those contingencies which, though slightand seemingly inconsequential in themselves, lead to great issues. HadI departed that day for Beaugency, it is likely that you had never heardof me--leastways, not from my own pen--for in what so far I have toldyou, without that which is to follow, there is haply little that wasworth the labour of setting down.
In the morning, then, I set out; but having started late, we got nofarther than Grenade, where we lay the night once more at the Hotel dela Couronne. And so, through having delayed my departure by a singleday, did it come to pass that a message reached me before it might havebeen too late.
It was high noon of the morrow. Our horses stood saddled; indeed, someof my men were already mounted--for I was not minded to disband themuntil Beaugency was reached--and my two coaches were both ready for thejourney. The habits of a lifetime are not so easy to abandon even whenNecessity raises her compelling voice.
I was in the act of settling my score with the landlord when of a suddenthere were quick steps in the passage, the clank of a rapier against thewall, and a voice--the voice of Castelroux--calling excitedly "Bardelys!Monsieur de Bardelys!"
"What brings you here?" I cried in greeting, as he stepped into theroom.
"Are you still for Beaugency?" he asked sharply, throwing back his head.
"Why, yes," I answered, wondering at this excitement.
"Then you have seen nothing of Saint-Eustache and his men?"
"Nothing."
"Yet they must have passed this way not many hours ago." Then tossinghis hat on the table and speaking with sudden vehemence: "If you haveany interest in the family of Lavedan, you will return upon the instantto Toulouse."
The mention of Lavedan was enough to quicken my pulses. Yet in thepast two days I had mastered resignation, and in doing that we schoolourselves to much restraint. I turned slowly, and surveyed the littleCaptain attentively. His black eyes sparkled, and his moustachesbristled with excitement.
Clearly he had news of import. I turned to thelandlord.
"Leave us, Monsieur l'Hote," said I shortly; and when he had departed,"What of the Lavedan family, Castelroux?" I inquired as calmly as Imight.
"The Chevalier de Saint-Eustache left Toulouse at six o'clock thismorning for Lavedan."
Swift the suspicion of his errand broke upon my mind.
"He has betrayed the Vicomte?" I half inquired, half asserted.
Castelroux nodded. "He has obtained a warrant for his apprehension fromthe Keeper of the Seals, and is gone to execute it. In the course of afew days Lavedan will be in danger of being no more than a name. ThisSaint-Eustache is driving a brisk trade, by God, and some fine prizeshave already fallen to his lot. But if you add them all together, theyare not likely to yield as much as this his latest expedition. Unlessyou intervene, Bardelys, the Vicomte de Lavedan is doomed and his familyhouseless."
"I will intervene," I cried. "By God, I will! And as forSaint-Eustache--he was born under a propitious star, indeed, if heescapes the gallows. He little dreams that I am still to be reckonedwith. There, Castelroux, I will start for Lavedan at once."
Already I was striding to the door, when the Gascon called me back.
"What good will that do?" he asked. "Were it not better first to returnto Toulouse and obtain a counter-warrant from the King?"
There was wisdom in his words--much wisdom. But my blood was afire, andI was in too hot a haste to reason.
"Return to Toulouse?" I echoed scornfully. "A waste of time, Captain.No, I will go straight to Lavedan. I need no counter-warrant. I know toomuch of this Chevalier's affairs, and my very presence should be enoughto stay his hand. He is as foul a traitor as you'll find in France;but for the moment God bless him for a very opportune knave. Gilles!" Icalled, throwing wide the door. "Gilles!"
"Monseigneur," he answered, hastening to me.
"Put back the carriages and saddle me a horse," I commanded. "And bidyour fellows mount at once and await me in the courtyard. We are notgoing to Beaugency, Gilles. We ride north--to Lavedan."