*II*

  On the morrow, early in the morning, we saddled our horses, Stubbs andI, a thing we always performed ourselves, Stubbs somewhat fumblingly, Iown, until practice gave him deftness and ease. 'Twas thirty miles toTorcy, that lay southerly from Dieppe, but we made such good speed thatthe sun was not yet in the zenith when we arrived at the chateau. TheCount was within doors, said the lackey that opened the great gate ofthe park to us, and we rode up the avenue of chestnuts, just bourgeoninginto leaf, and came after some three furlongs to the house.

  The man that admitted me, an ancient retainer of Raoul's whom I knewvery well, changed hue when he saw me, and asked me with trembling voicewhether I had brought news of his master. I did not give him a directanswer, but bade him lead me at once to the Count, feeling not a littlepleasure that the new lord still kept the old man in his service. Heconducted me through the passages that I had last trod with Raoulhimself, and brought me into the little chamber wherein I had passedmany a merry evening with my friend. Stubbs meanwhile remained in theouter porch, ready to follow me at my summons.

  I waited some while before the Count entered. He was a man of meanstature, very lean and dry, and with a grave cast of countenance whereinI discerned no likeness to the jolly favour of his nephew.

  "I have not the honour," he began courteously as I bowed to him, anddealt me a shrewd look.

  "Assuredly not, monsieur," I replied. "My name is Christopher Rudd, andI was once comrade to your nephew, whose fate has given such deeptrouble to his friends."

  "Ah yes, my poor nephew! Methinks I recall your name, monsieur, if youare the same that fought with Raoul in the late contention, now sohappily concluded. Be seated, monsieur; I am charmed to meet one thatwas his friend. You will honour me by taking a cup of wine?"

  He rang for a servant, and bade him bring wine and cakes, and also torequest the company of Monsieur Armand. Before the man returned thereentered into the room a solemn-visaged youth, clad in black with whiteruffles at his wrists.

  "My son, monsieur," said the Count. "He is but lately returned fromParis, where he has studied medicine and philosophy, not that I purposethat he should be either a physician or a philosopher, but because Ideem it well that he, being my heir, but ill-fitted by reason of adelicate constitution for the pursuit of arms, should have some tinctureof humane letters and of the beneficent art of healing. Situated as weare, somewhat remote from towns, it is fitting that one who will in duetime be lord of many poor folks should be able to minister to them intheir afflictions."

  "A right worthy and commendable desire," I said, looking at the youth,whose solemnity of countenance somewhat tickled me.

  The Count proceeded to expound the usefulness of philosophy, notinterrupting his discourse when the servant returned with wine anddelicacies which, being sharp-set after my ride, I devoured with relish.My host was so courteously bent on entertaining me that for a good whileI found no opportunity of broaching the purpose of my visit, and morethan once I thought of Stubbs waiting without, and certainly as hungryas myself. But perceiving at length in the Count's physiognomy a lookthat said clearly, despite his courtesy, that he thought it time myvisit came to an end, I profited by a slight lull in his discourse tosay--

  "And my friend Raoul, monsieur--has nothing been heard of him?"

  "Nothing, monsieur," he said with a sigh. "I fear we cannot hope to seehim again, and the pain of his loss is embittered by our ignorance ofhis fate, whether he lies at the bottom of the sea, or perchance in somenameless grave."

  "I rejoice, then," said I, "that I can assuage that bitterness, eventhough the knowledge has a bitterness of its own. Your nephew,monsieur, is at this moment, unless death has released him, sufferingthe tortures of a galley-slave in Spain."

  A cry from the solemn youth caused me to look at him, and I own I wasglad to see a spark of life in his dead face.

  "What a monstrous thing!" he cried. "Was he taken prisoner in Flanders,monsieur?"

  "Nay," I said, "he never fought in Flanders. He travelled no furtherthan Calais. He was there kidnapped at the harbour, and thence conveyedto Cadiz. 'Twas the work of private enemies, beyond doubt."

  "Will you tell us how you came by this amazing news, monsieur?" said theCount, in his thin cold voice.

  Whereupon I related the whole story with circumstance, from the timewhen I was beset that night as I returned to my lodging. The Countlistened to me with a courteous interest, but a look of compassion stoleupon his face.

  "It is incredible, monsieur," he said, when I ended my tale. "My poornephew had no private enemies: none can know better than you how wellbeloved he was of all. Even in the height of our broils here he had nopersonal foes, and though he and I were for a time at variance, yet whenthe realm settled itself in peace and order we forgot our publicdifferences, and Raoul and Armand became deeply attached the one to theother; is it not so, Armand?"

  "It is indeed," said the youth eagerly. "Raoul and I were as brothers,and his loss has been my greatest sorrow."

  I could not doubt he spoke truth: his eyes shone as he spoke. Nor couldI wonder that his father was incredulous, for Raoul was indeed a manwhom it were strange to hate.

  "I have a man without who rowed in the self-same galley with Raoul," Isaid. "With your leave I will send for him, monsieur, and you mayverify my story from his own lips."

  The Count assented with the same smile of weary tolerance. Within alittle Stubbs came to us, looking ill at ease, and twisting his bonnetbetween his hands as he stood waiting our pleasure. At my bidding herelated the story as I have told it, and rolled back his sleeve to showthe letters "R. de T." there branded. His French was uncouth andvillainously inexact, yet not so base but that his meaning was clear.The Count questioned him searchingly, almost as an advocate seeks toshake the testimony of a witness; but the man held to his tale in itsmain parts, answering only "J'ne savons pas"--such was his barbarousform--when the matter in question was beyond his ken.

  Having dismissed the man, I asked the Count whether he were not nowperfectly convinced of his nephew's fate. He looked upon me with thatsame smile of pity, and gave me an answer that, I confess, enraged me.

  "I felicitate you, monsieur," said he, "on your goodness of heart, butuntil this moment I was not aware that credulity could be laid to thecharge of a man of your nation. I had rather looked upon Englishmen assceptical, and not easily imposed upon. This man is certainly a liar:you yourself were witness of his confusion. He has played upon yourbenevolence, and, for myself, I regard it as monstrous that you shouldhave been prevailed upon to make so long a journey for so bootless areason. Nevertheless it has given me great pleasure to meet and conversewith you; and now that you are here, I would beg you to do me the honourto remain my guest for a week at least."

  "I thank you, monsieur," I said as civilly as I could, though in truth Iwas inly raging. "But so far from regarding the seaman as a liar, I dothoroughly believe his story."

  "And I too," quoth Armand.

  "But, my good friend," said the Count, "see the unlikelihood of it.Suppose that Raoul were indeed in the galleys, it were a simple matterfor a man of his rank and condition to purchase his release, and be surethat by this time, and long before this, application would have beenmade to me for his ransom, the which I need not say would have beeninstantly dispatched. Is not that reasonable?"

  I could not but own that it was, remembering that I had myself used theself-same argument with Sir Walter Raleigh.

  "Furthermore," the Count proceeded, "say that I offered a large sum forhis ransom, the Spaniards, if they have any reason for holding Raoul aprisoner, would certainly find some one to personate him, and releasesome knave that fully merits the punishment he suffers. And so you andI should look merely ridiculous."

  There was so much reason in what the Count said that I was baffled. Hisunbelief, I thought, might be in some measure sprung from a reluctancyto relinquish the estate he now enjoyed, the whic
h was not to bewondered at: and yet I deemed it unnatural that a kinsman should be moreincredulous than a man bound to Raoul by no ties of blood. At a losshow to combat his arguments, I presently took my leave, excusing myselffrom accepting the invitation he pressed upon me.

  I found that Stubbs had been fed by the ancient servitor, and set offwith him towards Dieppe. Our horses proved themselves but indifferentsteeds in respect of endurance, and we were slow upon the road, so thatit was already dark when we reached our hostelry. Being wearied withthe journey, as well as exceeding vexed in mind, I was in no mood foraught but a good supper and then bed, and I deferred to acquaint JeanPrevost with my barren errand until the morrow. Stubbs gave me a hardlook when I bade him good-night, as though he would fain question me onthe present posture of the affair; but I told him nothing, beingresolved first to hear what Jean had to say.

  I was mighty astonished next afternoon by Jean's manner of receiving myintelligence. Whereas he had been as sure as I myself that Raoul and thegalley-slave were one and the same, he now wore a dubious look, andstroked his chin, and declared there was much reason in what the Counthad said.

  "Raoul is not the only name beginning with R," he said, "nor Torcy withT. Moreover this mariner of yours, you tell me, sought to enter intoyour good graces by cracking your skull, and is not thereby certified tobe an honest man. The manifest friendliness of the Count's son, and theCount's own diligence in seeking his nephew, give no prop to thesuspicion I own I entertained, that they were privy to the crime, forthe sake of gaining Raoul's inheritance. I am fain to believe thatthere is dupery, or at least error."

  I answered him somewhat hotly that I was no dupe, nor did I believe thatStubbs had erred, and asked whether we could not set on foot a properinquiry. To this he replied that, France and Spain being at war, such acourse must be beset with manifold difficulties.

  "Yet," he said, "there is one way. Address yourself to some merchant inAntwerp that hath trading concerns in Cadiz. Such an one, if heedfuland discreet, could put your mariner's story to the test, and I doubtnot, knowing their love of lucre, there be many good men in Antwerp thatwould take this task upon them, for a fit recompense."

  This counsel seeming good to me, I left him after a little, and insteadof returning directly to my lodging, I wended to the harbour, andinquired what vessel sailed thence to Antwerp, and when. 'Twas told methat a trading vessel would leave the port on the morrow, whereupon Icounted myself lucky, for none other would depart for a fortnight. Itook passage in the vessel for myself and Stubbs, paying good Englishmoney, and bespeaking a sufficient quantity of food, more relishablethan that which mariners are in general wont to eat.

  By the time I came again to the _Belle Etoile_ the sun was setting. Ientered in, very well content with what I had done, and ran full againstStubbs, who was lurking within the doorway. He took me by the sleeveand drew me hastily to my room, where, having shut the door, he thrustinto my hands some papers, and I perceived that the seals thereof hadbeen broken.

  HE THRUST INTO MY HAND SOME PAPERS]

  "What is this?" I said in amazement, beholding signs of great trouble inthe man's countenance.

  "Read, sir, read, and quickly, for the love of God!" he said, andincontinently flung out of the room.

  I took up one of the papers to examine it, and saw that it bore thesuperscription, "To Don Ygnacio de Acosta, at Cadiz." The others wereaddressed to grandees in Seville and elsewhere in the south of Spain. Iwas still holding them unopened, perplexed about my man's strangeexcitement, when he came back with the same haste into the room andasked me in a fever whether I had read them.

  "Why, no," I said, "I may not read letters that are not addressed to me.What is all this to-do?"

  He groaned, and cursed his fate because he was himself unable to read.And then, pouring out his words in a very torrent, he told me that, alittle after my departure, there had come to the inn the young man whomhe had seen in the chateau Torcy, namely, Armand de Sarney, the Count'sson. Old Jacques conducted the youth to his bedchamber: 'twas plainthat he was the expected guest for whom the best room had been bespoke.Stubbs perceived that he bore with him a wallet such as are commonlyused by gentlemen for holding letters. Having seen his baggage bestowedin the chamber, the youth descended, but without the wallet, and issuedforth into the street. Stubbs watched him until he was out of sight,then stole a tip-toe to the room, slit open the wallet, and withdrew itscontents, the papers that he had laid in my hands.

  "But why?" I asked, staggered by this act of criminal presumption, andthinking the man must be demented.

  "Because thiccy count be a rare villain, sir," cried Stubbs hoarsely."I bean't a fule; I kept my eyes upon him when you sat there a-crackin'with him, and if he don't know more'n he ought about thiccy youngFrenchman, your friend, I'll go to the gallows happy. Read the names,sir, read 'un so that I can hear; quick, for he may be back along."

  In a great wonderment I complied.

  "Don Antonio de Herrera, Don Miguel de Leon y Buegas; Don Ygnacio deAcosta----"

  "There! There!" he cried. "I knew it, be jowned! 'Tis the captain ofthe galleys, the Don Spaniard that has laid many a stripe on my bareback. Read the letter."

  Again he left me in a great hurry, and I guessed now that he was gone tokeep a watch against the return of Armand de Sarney.

  I was in a quandary. Imprimis, 'twas a dastardly deed to break open thewallet and the seals, and not consonant with plain honesty. Yet I couldbut acknowledge that a letter writ by the Count de Sarney to the captainof the galleys was a grave cause of suspicion, more especially seeingthat the Count had not told me he was acquainted with the Spaniard, asassuredly an innocent man would have done. And so, reflecting that theseal was broken beyond mending, and that my friend's welfare--nay,perchance, his very life--was at stake, I felt it behoved me to satisfymyself on the matter, and do as my Lord Burghley and Sir FrancisWalsingham had done when they discovered those devilish plots againstthe Queen's highness.

  Accordingly I spread open the letter addressed to Don Ygnacio de Acosta,and as I read it all compunction died within me, and I fumed with rage.After the customary salutations, this is what I read--

  "The bearer of this letter is my only son, Armand de Sarney, whom Icommit to your benevolence. Having gained some repute in Paris by hisdiligence in the study of philosophy and the sciences, above all inmedicine, he is desirous of perfecting himself in this last, the which Ihold to be both a science and an art, by inquiring into the Moorishsystem, for which purpose I deem it well, though I am loth to part withhim, that he should voyage to Seville, the fame of whose schools hasgone out into all the corners of the world. He bears with him lettersfrom good friends in Paris to your most renowned doctors, and to yourloving care do I especially commend him.

  "I profit by his journey to send you a bill of exchange, drawn on ourgood friends at Antwerp, and beg that you will pardon my backwardness inthat I have withheld it beyond the wonted time.

  "The sickness whereof you wrote is now, I trust, wholly passed away, andwith all felicitations I subscribe myself your loving cousin,

  "HENRI DE SARNEY.

  "_Postscriptum_.--I unseal this letter to add that since it was writtenI have been visited by an Englishman, who has learnt by the mouth of anescaped slave somewhat concerning a prisoner, who, he affirms, ischained to an oar in one of your galleys. The English are a stubbornand stiff-necked race, and this man has their vices in full measure,being the same that brought to nought the carefully-laid plans of thelamented Monsieur de Lameray. In heat and waywardness he may seek topick locks and break fetters. Have a care therefore."

  This letter, I say, put me in a fume. Some parts of it I comprehendednot, and the whole was composed with great cunning; but I saw clearlyenough that the Count de Sarney was well aware of his nephew's grievousplight, and, furthermore, I suspected that he had had a hand in bringingit about. For a brief space I was so mastered by my wrath as that I wasin a manner bereft of my wits; but ru
nning my eyes again over the lines,I came on a sudden to a resolution, and none too soon, for Stubbsreturned swiftly into the room and told me that the young man in blackwas at that moment making towards the inn. Thrusting the papers into mydoublet, I hastened to the door, and there awaited his coming.

  As he was in the act of going past, the passage being dark, I steppedforth and besought him to honour me with his company for a few minutes.His solemn face bore witness to his surprise at seeing me in his owninn, but I caught no trace either of alarm or embarrassment. He cameinto my room, and, having closed the door upon him, I said--

  "It has come to my knowledge, monsieur, that you are about to voyageinto Spain."

  "It is true, monsieur, and I rejoice that I shall be able to inquiremyself for my poor cousin, though my father scouts your story."

  I read honesty in the lad's countenance, and grieved that it behoved meto play upon him.

  "I have to tell you, monsieur," I said very gravely, "that you stand inimminent peril. Your country is at war with Spain. 'Tis believed thatmonsieur the Count is in treasonable correspondence with the Spanishcourt. 'Tis known that you are conveying a subsidy to an officer oftheir navy, and there are charges of even graver import, which in sumbring your father within danger of the extreme penalty."

  The hue of the lad's face altered to an ashen colour, and he caught hisbreath.

  "It is false, abominably false, monsieur," he gasped.

  "Pray God it be so, monsieur!" said I, pitying him. "The unhappy factis that papers of suspicious tenor have been discovered among yourbaggage, and 'tis only by good luck that I am able to warn you in time.Examine your papers. You will find that search has been made duringyour absence, and documents incriminating in character have beenabstracted."

  Trembling with fear the lad hastened to his own room, and came back inas great a panic as ever I saw.

  "It is an error, monsieur," he cried; "my father is no traitor: he canexplain. Mon Dieu! what can I do?"

  "I will tell you, monsieur," I said. "Be assured that I acquit you ofall guilty knowledge. The affair is known only to myself and one otherwhose silence I can command, and do you but follow my counsel you willbe safe. Having fought in the army of Navarre, and being beholden toKing Henry, I cannot suffer you to quit France; you will not voyage toSpain. But neither can I proceed over harshly against one so youthful.You were best hasten directly to Paris, and resume your studies there.You will pass me your word not to communicate with your father until Igive you leave. He will be in no anxiety concerning you, believing yougone to Seville. But I warn you that if you, directly or indirectly,communicate with him, or with any one whatsoever in Spain, I will notanswer for the sea of troubles whereinto both you and he will beplunged. I trust that things are not wholly what they seem, and be surethat none will more greatly rejoice than I if it be proved that theescutcheon of your house is without stain."

  "I thank you, monsieur," said the lad brokenly. "I will do your behestin all points, sure, as I am, that time will bear me out."

  "Stay," I said, as he made to quit the room; "are you known at the port,monsieur?"

  "Nay, I have never travelled by sea," he replied, wondering.

  "You are skilled in medicine," I proceeded, "and without doubt can namesome authentic treatise wherein one ignorant of the art can gain someinkling of its mysteries."

  "Assuredly, monsieur," said he, "there is none to be compared with thegreat work of Ambrose Parey, the renowned chirurgeon of King Henry III.I have it in the original Latin, and shall esteem myself honoured if youwill accept it at my hand."

  "Right willingly, monsieur," I said, "and though my Latin grows rustywith disuse, yet I doubt not I can make a shift to understand at leastone phrase in two."

  He departed to his room, returning ere long with a weighty tome withwhich, I could see, he was loth to part. Having bid each other adieu,he went from me, and since the hour was too late to permit of his ridingforth that same night, he dismissed the man that had accompanied himfrom Torcy, and sought his bed. He rose betimes in the morning, andfrom my window I saw him ride eastward, leaving his baggage to bedispatched after him by the carrier.

  When I had seen him well upon his way I skipped into my clothes, havingas yet stood unclad at the window, and made haste to find old Toutainthe tailor, whom I knew very well, and who had his shop on one of thequays abutting on what they call the avant port. He broke out intoecstasies of delight on seeing me, but I cut him short, and told him inone brief minute what I required of him, which was that within fivehours he should rig me in the full apparel of a student of medicine. Heprotested with great volubility and play of hands that it could not bedone, whereupon I told him brutally of our English saying, that "atailor is but the ninth part of a man," and so stung him into a bettermind. In a trice I had chosen the stuff, and Toutain took mymeasurements, the while he put me through a stiff interrogatory as to mynew profession, where I purposed to study, and what not. I leave you toguess what a rack I put my invention upon to satisfy him. Within a barequarter of an hour afterwards I was back at the _Belle Etoile_, breakingmy fast upon a savoury omelet and other comestibles that suit with theFrench palate better than with ours.

  Toutain himself brought me my new raiment half-an-hour before the term,by the which time I had made Stubbs shave off my infant beard and themustachio that graced my lip. The stout little tailor preened himselflike a cock robin when he beheld how becomingly his handiwork sat uponme, and departed gaily clinking the sound English nobles wherewith Ipaid him.

  I had kept close all day, so as the metamorphosis the razor had wroughtupon my lineaments should not excite an idle curiosity. At the propertime I sallied forth with Stubbs, he carrying my baggage and the greattome of Ambrose Parey, and made towards the harbour, composing mycountenance to that grave solemnity which the disciples of AEsculapiuscommonly affect. I was taken aback for a moment when I saw Jean Prevoststanding in wait at the quay, having come to bid me God-speed. Ichecked his cry of amazement, and bade him, as he loved me, say noughtto a soul of my affairs, whereof I told him no more than that I wassailing to Antwerp, as he had himself advised. Then I went on board,announcing myself as Monsieur Armand de Sarney, and was taken withobsequious respect to the place allotted to me. Stubbs went forwardamong the crew, and I had no fear of any mischance through him, for aseaman amongst seamen, whatever their nation, is a bird of their ownfeather.

  I observed after a little that the skipper was in a fret, continuallypacing the deck and casting troubled glances at the tide. Presently Imade bold to accost him, and asked why he tarried. His answer was anunwitting stab to the proper pride of an Englishman, but yet acomfortable testimony to the perfectness of my disguise.

  I MADE BOLD TO ACCOST HIM]

  "We wait for a pestilent Englishman, monsieur," he said raspingly, "asluggard eater of beef, that will come up when the tide fails and expectus to sail against wind and weather to please his almightiness. And hemust needs fill the boat with meat enough for a regiment: our provisionis not good enough for him."

  "I would delay for no Englishman alive," I said, "and as for hiscreature comforts, divide them among your mariners: I will see to itthat you suffer nought."

  Very soon thereafter he did indeed cast off. I responded with a gravesalutation to Jean's wafture of his bonnet, and sat me down on a coil ofrope to digest as well as I might Ambrose Parey his Latin.

  We made good passage to Antwerp, where I did not delay to visit thegoldsmith upon whom the Count de Sarney's bill of exchange was drawn.He held me in no suspicion, and was vastly serviceable in negotiatingwith the skipper of a vessel bound for Cadiz, as well as in conductingthe other necessary parts of my business. I was some little troubled inmy mind what course to pursue with my mariner. I proposed to him that,seeing the risks of my adventure, he should take ship for London,carrying a letter from me to Sir Walter Raleigh, who I made no doubtwould find him employment. But he begged me so earnestly to permit himto accompany me that I
yielded, though not without misgiving. I showedhim that for a runagate slave to venture himself in Cadiz would be amere running into the lion's jaws, to which he answered that, whereas onthe galley his head and face were shaved, he was now as shaggy as abear, and so would not easily be known of any man, slave or free.Furthermore I showed him how in Spain he could not hope to pass eitherfor a Spaniard or a Frenchman, whereupon, with a readiness that raisedhim in my estimation, he said that he would pass very well for aMuscovite, and invented a fable of his having escaped fifteen yearsbefore from the clutches of Ivan the Terrible, and conveyed himselfaboard a vessel of Sweden. To this he gave countenance by venting atorrent of outlandish phrases, assuring me 'twas a mingle-mangle of seaterms employed by the Muscovites and the Swedes; whereat I laughed veryheartily, and declared that he at least would have been at no loss amongthe builders of Babel. The matter being thus settled to our mutualcontentment, we tarried a few days in Antwerp until the time of ourvessel's sailing, and then embarked together on an adventure whereofneither of us foresaw the end.