The Helmet of Navarre

  XXVI

  _Within the spider's web._

  Mademoiselle slipped softly out of the room, taking our hearts with her.Our one desire now was to be gone; but it was easier wished thanaccomplished, for there remained the dreary process of bargaining. Mme.de Mayenne had set her heart on a pearl bracelet, Mme. de Brie wanted avinaigrette, a third lady a pair of shoe-buckles. M. Etienne developed arecklessness about prices that would have whitened the hair of agoldsmith father; I thought the ladies could not fail to be suspiciousof such prodigality, to imagine we carried stolen goods. But no; thequick settlements defeated their own ends: they fired our customers withlonging to purchase further. I was despairing, when at length Mme. deMayenne bethought herself that supper-time was at hand, and that no onewas yet dressed. To my eyes the company already looked fine enough for acoronation; but I rejoiced to hear them thanking madame for herreminder, with the gratitude of victims snatched from an awful fate. Wewere commanded to bundle out, which with all alacrity we did.

  Freedom was in sight. I was not so nervous on this journey as I had beencoming in. As we passed, lackey-led, through the long corridors, I hadease enough of mind to enable me to take my bearings, and to whisper tomy master, "That door yonder is the door of the council-room, where Iwas." Even as I spoke the door opened, two gentlemen appearing at thethreshold. One was a stranger; the other was Mayenne.

  Our guide held back in deference. The duke and his friend stood a momentor two in low-voiced converse; then the visitor made his farewells, andwent off down the staircase.

  Mayenne had not appeared aware of our existence, thirty feet up thepassage, but now he inquired, as if we had been pieces of merchandise:

  "What have you there, Louis?"

  "An Italian goldsmith, so please your Grace. Madame has just dismissedhim."

  He led us forward. Mayenne surveyed us deliberately, and at length saidto M. le Comte:

  "I will look at your wares."

  M. Etienne smiled his eager, deprecating smile, informing his Highnessthat we, poor creatures, spoke no French.

  "How came you in Paris, then?"

  M. Etienne for the fourth time went through with his tale. I think thistime he must have trembled over it. My Lord Mayenne had not thereputation of being easily gulled. For aught we knew, he might beinformed of the name and condition of every person who had entered Paristhis year. He might, as he listened stolid-faced, be checking off tohimself the number of monsieur's lies. But if M. Etienne trembled in hissoul, his words never faltered; he knew his history well, by this. Atits finish Mayenne said:

  "Come in here."

  The lackey was ordered to wait outside, while we followed his Grace ofMayenne across the council-room to that table by the window where he hadsat with Lucas night before last. I clinched my teeth to keep them fromchattering together. Not Grammont's brutality, not Lucas's venom, notMlle. de Tavanne's rampant suspicion, had ever frightened me so horriblyas did Mayenne's amiable composure. He made me feel as I had felt when Ientered the tunnel, helpless in the dark, unable to cope with dangers Icould not see. Mayenne was a well, the light shining down its sides away, and far below the still surface of the water. You hang over theedge and peer till your eyes drop out; you can as easily look throughiron as discern how deep the water is. I seemed to see clearly thatMayenne suspected us not in the least. He was as placid as a summer day,turning over the contents of the box, showing little interest in us,much in our wares, every now and then speaking a generous word of praiseor asking a friendly question. He was the very model of the graciousprince; the humble tradesmen whom we feigned to be must needs haveworshipfully loved him. Yet withal I believed that all the time he knewus; that he was amusing himself with us. Presently, when he tired, hewould walk casually out of the room and send in his creatures to stabus.

  Had I known this for a truth, that he had discovered us, I should havebraced myself, I trow, to meet it. The certainty would have beenbearable; I had courage to face ruin. It was the uncertainty that was soheart-shaking--like crossing a morass in the dark. We might be on thesafe path; we might with every step be wandering away farther andfarther into the treacherous bog; there was no way to tell. Mayenne wasquite the man to be kindly patron of the crafts, to pick out a richpresent for a friend. He was also the man to sit in the presence of hisenemy, unbetraying, tranquil, assured, waiting. It seemed to me that ina few minutes more of this I should go mad; I should scream out: "Yes, Iam Felix Broux, and he is M. le Comte de Mar!"

  But before I had verily come to this, something happened to change thesituation. Entered like a young tempest, slamming the door after him,Lucas.

  M. Etienne clutched me by the arm, drawing me back into the embrasure ofthe window, where we stood in plain sight but with our faces blotted outagainst the light. Mayenne looked up from two rings he was comparing,one in each hand. Lucas, hat on head, came rapidly across the room.

  "So you have appeared again," Mayenne said. "I could almost believemyself back in night before last."

  "Aye; at last I have." Lucas was all hot and ruffled, panting half fromhurry, half from wrath.

  "You saw fit to be absent last night," Mayenne went on indifferently,his eyes on the ring. "I trust, for your sake, you have used your timeprofitably."

  "I have been about my own concerns," Lucas answered lightly, arminghimself with his insolence against the other's disdain. In a moment hehad mastered the excitement that brought him so stormily into the room.He was once more the Lucas who had entered that other night, nonchalant,mocking.

  "Pretty trinkets," he observed, sitting down and lifting a bracelet fromthe tray.

  The close kinship of these men betrayed itself in nothing so sharply asin their unerring instinct for annoying each other. Had Lucasvolunteered explanation for his absence, Mayenne would not have listenedto it; but as he withheld it, the duke demanded brusquely:

  "Well, do you give an account of yourself? You had better."

  Lucas repeated the tactics which he had found such good entertainmentbefore. He looked with raised eyebrows toward us.

  "You would not have me speak before these vermin, uncle?"

  "These vermin understand no French," Mayenne made answer. "But do as itlikes you. It is nothing to me."

  My master pinched my hand. Mayenne did not know us! After all, he waswhat M. Etienne had called him--a man, neither god nor devil. He couldmake mistakes like the rest of us. For once he had been caught napping.

  Lucas leaned back in his chair with a meditative air, as if idlywondering whether to speak or not. In his place I should not havewondered one moment. Had Mayenne assured me in that quiet tone that hecared nothing whether I spoke, I should scarce have been able to uttermy words fast enough. But there was so strange a twist in Lucas's naturethat he must sometimes thwart his own interests, value his caprice abovehis prosperity. Also, in this case his story was no triumphant one. Butat length he did begin it:

  "I went to Belin to inform him that day before yesterday Etienne de Marmurdered his lackey, Pontou, in Mar's house in the Rue Coupejarrets."

  "Was that your errand?" Mayenne said, looking up in slow surprise. "Myfaith! your oaths to Lorance trouble you little."

  Lucas started forward sharply. "Do you tell me you did not know mypurpose?"

  "I knew, of course, that you were up to some warlockry," Mayenneanswered; "I did not concern myself to discover what."

  "There speaks the general! There speaks the gentleman!" Lucas cried out."A general hangs a spy, yet he profits by spying. The spy runs therisks, incurs the shames; the general sits in his tent, his honouruntarnished, pocketing all the glory. Faugh, you gentlemen! You will notdo dirty work, but you will have it done for you. You sit at home withclean hands and eyes that see not, while we go forth to serve you. Youare the Duke of Mayenne. I am your bastard nephew, living on yourfavour. But you go too far when you sneer at my smirches."

  He was on his feet, standing over Mayenne, his face blazing. M. Etiennemade an instinctive step forward, thinking
him about to knife the duke.But Mayenne, as we well knew, was no craven.

  "Be a little quieter, Paul," he said, unmoved. "You will have the guardin, in a moment."

  Lucas held absolutely still for a second. So did Mayenne. He knew thatLucas, standing, could stab quicker than he defend. He sat there withboth hands on the table, looking composedly up at his nephew. Lucasflung away across the room.

  "I shall have dismissed these people directly," Mayenne continued. "Thenyou can tell me your tale."

  "I can tell it now in two words," Lucas answered, coming abruptly back."Belin signed the warrant, and sent a young ass of the burgher guardafter Mar. I attended to some affairs of my own. Then after a time Iwent round to the Trois Lanternes to see if they had got him. He was notthere--only that cub of a boy of his. When I came in, he swore, theinnkeeper swore, the whole crew swore, I was Mar. The fool of an officerarrested me."

  I expected Mayenne to burst out laughing in Lucas's chagrined face. Butinstead he seemed less struck with his nephew's misfortunes than withsome other aspect of the affair. He said slowly:

  "You told Belin this arrest was my desire?"

  "I may have implied something of the sort."

  "You repeated it to the arresting officer before Mar's boy!"

  "I had no time to say anything before they hustled me off," Lucasexclaimed. "Mille tonnerres! Never had any man such luck as I. It'senough to make me sign papers with the devil."

  "Mar would believe I had broken faith with him?"

  "I dare say. One isn't responsible for what Mar believes," Lucasanswered carelessly.

  Mayenne was silent, with knit brows, drumming his hand on the table.Lucas went on with the tale of his woes:

  "At the Bastille, I ordered the commissary to send to you. He did not;he sent to Belin. Belin was busy, didn't understand the message,wouldn't be bothered. I lay in my cell like a mouse in a trap till anhour agone, when at last he saw fit to appear--damn him!"

  Mayenne fell to laughing. Lucas cried out:

  "When they arrested me my first thought was that this was your work."

  "In that case, how should you be free now?"

  "You found you needed me."

  "You are twice wrong, Paul. For I knew nothing of your arrest. Nor do Ithink I need you. Pardieu! you succeed too badly to give me confidence."

  Lucas stood glowering, gnawing his lip, picturing the chagrin, the angryreproaches, the justifications he did not utter. I am certain he pitiedhimself as the sport of fate and of tyrants, the most shamefully usedof mortal men. And so long as he aspired to the hand of Mayenne's ward,so long was he helpless under Mayenne's will.

  "'Twas pity," Mayenne said reflectively, "that you thought best to beabsent last night. Had you been here, you had had sport. Your youngfriend Mar came to sing under his lady's window."

  "Saw she him?" Lucas cried sharply.

  "How should I know? She does not confide in me."

  "You took care to find out!" Lucas cried, knowing he was being badgered,yet powerless to keep himself from writhing.

  "I may have."

  "Did she see him?" Lucas demanded again, the heavy lines of hatred andjealousy searing his face.

  "No credit to you if she did not. You accomplish singularly little toharass M. de Mar in his love-making. You deserve that she should haveseen him. But, as a matter of fact, she did not. She was in the chapelwith madame."

  "What happened?"

  "Francois de Brie--now there is a youngster, Paul," Mayenne interruptedhimself to point out, "who has not a tithe of your cleverness; but hehas the advantage of being on the spot when needed. Desiring a word withmademoiselle, he betook himself to her chamber. She was not there, butMar was warbling under the window."

  "Brie?"

  "Brie bestirred himself. He sent two of the guard round behind thehouse to cut off the retreat, while he and Latour attacked from thefront."

  "Mar's killed?" Lucas cried. "He's killed!"

  "By no means," answered Mayenne. "He got away."

  Before he could explain further,--if he meant to,--the door opened, andMlle. de Montluc came in.

  Her eyes travelled first to us, in anxiety; then with relief to Mayenne,sitting over the jewels; last, to Lucas, with startlement. She advancedwithout hesitation to the duke.

  "I am come, monsieur, to fetch you to supper."

  "Pardieu, Lorance!" Mayenne exclaimed, "you show me a different facefrom that of dinner-time." Indeed, so she did, for her eyes were shiningwith excitement, while the colour that M. Etienne had kissed into themstill flushed her cheeks.

  "If I do," she made quick answer, "it is because, the more I think onit, the surer I grow that my loving cousin will not break my heart."

  "I want a word with you, Lorance," Mayenne said quietly.

  "As many as you like, monsieur," she replied promptly. "But will you notsend these creatures from the room first?"

  "Do you include your cousin Paul in that term?"

  "I meant these jewellers. But since you suggest it, perhaps it would beas well for Paul to go."

  "You hear your orders, Paul."

  "Aye, I hear and I disobey," Lucas retorted. "Mademoiselle, I take toomuch joy in your presence to be willing to leave it."

  "Monsieur," she said to the duke, ignoring her cousin Paul with acoolness that must have maddened him, "will you not dismiss yourtradespeople? Then can we talk comfortably."

  "Aye," answered Mayenne, "I will. I am more gallant than Paul. If youcommand it, out they go, though I have not half had time to look theirwares over. Here, master jeweller," he addressed M. Etienne, slippingeasily into Italian, "pack up your wares and depart."

  M. Etienne, bursting into rapid thanks to his Highness for hiscondescension in noticing the dirt of the way, set about his packing.Mayenne turned to his lovely cousin.

  "Now for my word to you, mademoiselle. You wept so last night, it wasimpossible to discuss the subject properly. But now I rejoice to see youmore tranquil. Here is the beginning and the middle and the end of thematter: your marriage is my affair, and I shall do as I like about it."

  She searched his face; before his steady look her colour slowly died. M.Etienne, whether by accident or design, knocked his tray of jewels offthe table. Murmuring profuse apologies, he dropped on his knees to gropefor them. Neither of the men heeded him, but kept their eyes steadily onthe lady.

  "Mademoiselle," Mayenne deliberately went on, "I have been over-fondwith you. Had I followed my own interests instead of bowing to yourwhims, you had been a wife these two years. I have indulged you,mademoiselle, because you were my ally Montluc's daughter, because youcame to me a lonely orphan, because you were my little cousin whosebaby mouth I kissed. I have let you cavil at this suitor and that, poutthat one was too tall and one too short, and a third too bold and afourth not bold enough. I have been pleased to let you cajole me. Butnow, mademoiselle, I am at the end of my patience."

  "Monsieur," she cried, "I never meant to abuse your kindness. You let mecajole you, as you say, else I could not have done it. You treated mywhims as a jest. You let me air them. But when you frowned, I have putthem by. I have always done your will."

  "Then do it now, mademoiselle. Be faithful to me and to your birth.Cease sighing for the enemy of our house."

  "Monsieur," she said, "when you first brought him to me, he was not theenemy of our house. When he came here, day after day, season afterseason, he was not our enemy. When I wrote that letter, at Paul'sdictation, I did not know he was our enemy. You told me that night thatI was not for him. I promised you obedience. Did he come here to me andimplore me to wed with him, I would send him away."

  Mayenne little imagined how truly she spoke; but he could not look inher eyes and doubt her honesty.

  "You are a good child, Lorance," he said. "I could wish your lover asdocile."

  "He will not come here again," she cried. "He knows I am not for him. Hegives it up, monsieur--he takes himself out of Paris. I promise you itis over. He gives me up."
br />   "I have not his promise for that," Mayenne said dryly; "but the nexttime he comes after you, he may settle with your husband."

  She uttered a little gasp, but scarce of surprise--almost of relief thatthe blow, so long expected, had at last been dealt.

  "You will marry me, monsieur?" she murmured. "To M. de Brie?"

  "You are shrewd, mademoiselle. You know that it will be a good threemonths before Francois de Brie can stand up to be wed. You say toyourself that much may happen in three months. So it may. Therefore willyour bridegroom be at hand to-morrow morning."

  She made no rejoinder, but her eyes, wide like a hunted animal's, movedfearsomely, loathingly, to Lucas. Mayenne uttered an abrupt laugh.

  "No; Paul is not the happy man. Besides bungling the St. Quentin affair,he has seen fit to make free with my name in an enterprise of his own.Therefore, Paul, you will dance at Lorance's wedding a bachelor.Mademoiselle, you marry in the morning Senor el Conde del Rondelar ySaragossa of his Majesty King Philip's court. After dinner you willdepart with your husband for Spain."

  Lucas sprang forward, hand on sword, face ablaze with furious protest.Mayenne, heeding him no more than if he had not been there, rose andwent to Mlle de Montluc.

  "Have I your obedience, cousin?"

  "You know it, monsieur."

  She was curtseying to him when he folded her in his arms, kissing bothher cheeks.

  "You are as good as you are lovely, and that says much, ma mie. We willtalk a little more about this after supper. Permit me, mademoiselle."

  He took her hand and led her in leisurely fashion out of the room.

  It wondered me that Lucas had not killed him. He looked murder. Haplyhad the duke disclosed by so much as a quivering eyelid a consciousnessof Lucas's rage, of danger to himself, Lucas had struck him down. But hewalked straight past, clad in his composure as in armour, and Lucas madeno move. I think to stab was the impulse of a moment, gone in a moment.Instantly he was glad he had not killed the Duke of Mayenne, to be cuthimself into dice by the guard. After the duke was gone, Lucas stoodstill a long time, no less furious, but cogitating deeply.

  We had gathered up our jewels and locked our box, and stood holding itbetween us, waiting our chance to depart. We might have gone a dozentimes during the talking, for none marked us; but M. Etienne, despite mytuggings, refused to budge so long as mademoiselle was in the room. Nowwas he ready enough to go, but hesitated to see if Lucas would not leavefirst. That worthy, however, showed no intention of stirring, butremained in his pose, buried in thought, unaware of our presence. To getout, we had to walk round one end or the other of the table, passingeither before or behind him. M. le Comte was for marching carelesslybefore his face, but I pulled so violently in the other direction thathe gave way to me. I think now that had we passed in front of him, Lucaswould have let us go by without a look. As it was, hearing steps at hisback, he wheeled about to confront us. If the eye of love is quick, sois the eye of hate. He cried out instantly:

  "Mar!"

  We dropped the box, and sprang at him. But he was too quick for us. Heleaped back, whipping out his sword.

  "I have you now, Mar!" he cried.

  M. Etienne grabbed up the heavy box in both hands to brain him. Lucasretreated. He might run through M. Etienne, but only at the risk ofhaving his head split. After all, it suited his book as well to take usalive. Shouting for the guards, he retreated toward the door.

  But I was there before him. As he ran at M. Etienne, I had dashed by,slammed the door shut, and bolted it. If we were caught, we would make afight for it. I snatched up a stool for weapon.

  He halted. Then he darted over to the chimney, and pulled violently thebell-rope hanging near. We heard through the closed door two loud pealssomewhere in the corridor.

  We both ran for him. Even as he pulled the rope, M. Etienne struck thebox over his sword, snapping it. I dropped my stool, as he his box, andwe pinned Lucas in our arms.

  "The oratory!" I gasped. With a strength born of our desperation, wedragged him kicking and cursing across the room, heaved him with all ourforce into the oratory, and bolted the door on him.

  "Your wig!" cried M. Etienne, running to recover his box. While I pickedit up and endeavoured with clumsy fingers to put it on properly, he seton its legs the stool I had flung down, threw the pieces of Lucas'ssword into the fireplace, seized his box, dashed to me and set my wigstraight, dashed to the outer door, and opened it just as Pierre came upthe corridor.

  "Well, what do you want?" the lackey demanded. "You ring as if it was aquestion of life and death."

  "I want to be shown out, if the messer will be so kind. His Highness theduke, when he went to supper, left me here to put up my wares, but Iknow not my way to the door."

  It was after sunset, and the room, back from the windows, was dusky. Thelackey seemed not to mark our flushed and rumpled looks, and to be quitesatisfied with M. Etienne's explanation, when of a sudden Lucas, who hadbeen stunned for the moment by the violent meeting of his head and thetiles, began to pound and kick on the oratory door.

  He was shouting as well. But the door closed with absolute tightness; ithad not even a keyhole. His cries came to us muffled and inarticulate.

  "Corpo di Bacco!" M. Etienne exclaimed, with a face of childlikesurprise. "Some one is in a fine hurry to enter! Do you not let him in,Sir Master of the Household?"

  "I wonder who he's got there now," Pierre muttered to himself inFrench, staring in puzzled wise at the door. Then he answered M. Etiennewith a laugh:

  "No, my innocent; I do not let him in. It might cost me my neck to openthat door. Come along now. I must see you out and get back to mytrenchers."

  We met not a soul on the stairs, every one, served or servants, being inthe supper-room. We passed the sentry without question, and round thecorner without hindrance. M. Etienne stopped to heave a sigh ofthanksgiving.

  "I thought we were done for that time!" he panted. "Mordieu! anotherscored off Lucas! Come, let us make good time home! 'Twere wise to beinside our gates when he gets out of that closet."

  We made good time, ever listening for the haro after us. But we heard itnot. We came unmolested up the street at the back, of the Hotel St.Quentin, on our way to the postern. Monsieur took the key out of hisdoublet, saying as we walked around the corner tower:

  "Well, it appears we are safe at home."

  "Yes, M. Etienne."

  Even as I uttered the words, three men from the shadow of the wallsprang out and seized us.

  "This is he!" one cried. "M. le Comte de Mar, I have the pleasure oftaking you to the Bastille."