VIII
_Charles-Andre-Etienne-Marie._
Unpleased, but unprotesting, Vigo led me out into the anteroom. Thosemen who judged by the outside of things and, knowing Vigo's iron ways,said that he ruled Monsieur, were wrong.
The big equery gave me over to the charge of Marcel and returned to theinner room. Hardly had the door closed behind him when the page burstout:
"What is it? What is the coil? What have you done, Felix?"
Now you can guess I was too sick-hearted for chatter. I had defied anddisobeyed my liege lord; I could never hope for pardon or any man'srespect. They threatened me with flogging; well, let them flog. Theycould not make my back any sorer than my conscience was. For I had notthe satisfaction in my trouble of thinking that I had done right.Monsieur's danger should have been my first consideration. What wasYeux-gris, perjured scoundrel, in comparison with M. le Duc? And yet Iknew that at the end of the half-hour I should not tell; at the end ofthe flogging I should not tell. I had warned Monsieur; that I wouldhave done had it been the breaking of a thousand oaths. But give upYeux-gris? Not if they tore me limb from limb!
"What is it all about?" cried Marcel, again. "You look as glum as aJesuit in Lent. What is the matter with you, Felix?"
"I have cooked my goose," I said gloomily.
"What have you done?"
"Nothing that I can speak about. But I am out of Monsieur's books."
"What was old Vigo after when he took you in to Monsieur? I never sawanything so bold. When Monsieur says he is not to be disturbed he meansit."
I had nothing to tell him, and was silent.
"What is it? Can't you tell an old chum?"
"No; it is Monsieur's private business."
"Well, you are grumpy!" he cried out pettishly. "You must be out ofgrace." He seemed to decide that nothing was to be made out of me justnow on this tack, and with unabated persistence tried another.
"Is it true, Felix, what one of the men said just now, that you tried tospeak with Monsieur this morning when he drove out?"
"Yes. But Monsieur did not recognize me."
"Like enough," Marcel answered. "He has a way of late of falling intothese absent fits. Monsieur is not the man he was."
"He does look older," I said, "and worn. I trow the risk he isrunning--"
"Pshaw!" cried Marcel, with scorn. "Is Monsieur a man to mind risks? No;it is M. le Comte."
I started like a guilty thing, remembering what Yeux-gris had told meand I, wrapped in my petty troubles, had forgotten. Monsieur had losthis only son. And I had chosen this time to defy him!
"How long ago was it?" I asked in a hushed voice.
"Since M. le Comte left us? It will be three weeks next Friday."
"How did he die?"
"Die?" echoed Marcel. "You crazy fellow, he is not dead!"
It was my turn to stare.
"Then where is he?"
"It would be money in my pouch if I knew. What made you think him dead,Felix?"
"A man told me so."
"Pardieu!" he cried in some excitement. "When? Who was it?"
"To-day. I do not know the man's name."
"It seems you know very little. Pardieu! I do not believe M. le Comte isdead. What else did your man say?"
"Nothing. He only said the Comte de Mar was dead."
"Pshaw! I don't believe it. You believe everything you hear because youare just from the country. No; if M. le Comte were dead we should hearof it. Oh, certainly, we should hear."
"But where is he, then? You say he is lost."
"Aye. He has not been seen or heard of since the day they had thequarrel."
"Who quarrelled?"
"Why, he and Monsieur," answered Marcel, in a lower voice, pointing tothe door of the inner room. "M. le Comte has been his own master toolong to take kindly to a hand over him; that is the whole of it. He hasa quick temper. So has Monsieur."
But I thought of Monsieur's wonderful patience, and I cried:
"Shame!"
"What now?"
"To speak like that of Monsieur."
"Enfin, it is true. He is none the worse for that. But I suppose ifMonsieur had a cloven hoof one must not mention it."
"One would get his head broken."
"Oh, you Broux!" he cried out. "I have not seen you for half a year. Ihad forgotten that with you the St. Quentins rank with the saints."
"You--you are a hired servant. You come to Monsieur as you might come toanybody. With the Broux it is different," I retorted angrily. Yet Icould not but know in my heart that any hired servant might have servedMonsieur better than I. My boasted loyalty--what was it but lip-service?I said more humbly: "Pshaw! it is no great matter. Tell me about thequarrel."
"And so I will, if you're civil. In the first place, there was thequestion of M. le Comte's marriage."
"What! is he married?"
"Oh, by no means. Monsieur wouldn't have it. You see, Felix," Marcelsaid in a tone deep with importance, "we're Navarre's men now."
"Of course," said I.
"I suppose you would say 'of course' just like that to Mayenne himself.You greenhorn! It is as much as our lives are worth to side openly withNavarre. The League may attack us any day."
"I know," I said uneasily. Every chance word Marcel spoke seemed to dyemy guilt the deeper. "But what has this to do with M. le Comte'smarriage?" I asked him.
"Why, he was more than half a Leaguer. Perhaps he is one now. Some sayhe and Monsieur were at daggers drawn about politics; but I warrant itwas about Mlle. de Montluc. They call her the Rose of Lorraine. She'sthe Duke of Mayenne's own cousin and housemate. And we're king's men, soof course it was no match for Monsieur's son. They say Mayenne himselffavoured the marriage, but our duke wouldn't hear of it. However, thebackbone of the trouble was M. de Grammont."
"And who may he be?"
"He's a cousin of the house. He and M. le Comte are as thick as thieves.Before we came to Paris they lodged together. So when M. le Comte camehere he brought M. de Grammont. Dare I speak ill of Monsieur's cousin,Felix? For I would say, at the risk of a broken head, that he is asour-faced churl. You cannot deny it. You never saw him."
"No, nor M. le Comte, either."
"Why, you have seen M. le Comte!"
"Never. The only time he came to St. Quentin I was laid up in bed with astrained leg. I missed the chase. Don't you remember?"
"Why, you are right; that was the time you fell out of the butterywindow when you were stealing tarts, and Margot got after you with thebroomstick. I remember very well."
He was for calling up all our old pranks at the chateau, but it waslittle joy to me to think on those fortunate days when I was Monsieur'sfavourite. I said:
"Nay, Marcel, you were telling me of M. le Comte and the quarrel."
"Oh, as for that, it is easy told. You see M. le Comte and this Grammonttook no interest in Monsieur's affairs, and they had very little to sayto him, and he to them. They had plenty of friends in Paris, Leaguers ornot, and they used to go about amusing themselves. But at last M. deGrammont had such a run of bad luck at the tables that he not onlyemptied his own pockets but M. le Comte's as well. I will say for M. leComte that he would share his last sou with any one who asked."
"And so would any St. Quentin."
"Oh, you are always piping up for the St. Quentins."
"He should have no need in this house."
We jumped up to find Vigo standing behind us.
"What have you been saying of Monsieur?"
"Nothing, M. Vigo," stammered the page. "I only said M. le Comte--"
"You are not to discuss M. le Comte. Do you hear?"
"Yes, M. Vigo."
"Then obey. And you, Felix, I shall have a little interview with youshortly."
"As you will, M. Vigo," I said hopelessly.
He went off down the corridor, and Marcel turned angrily on me.
"Mon dieu, Felix, you have got me into a nice scrape with your eternalchanting of the praises of Monsieur.
Like as not I shall get a beatingfor it. Vigo never forgets."
"I am sorry," I said. "We should not have been talking of it."
"No, we should not. Come over here where we can watch both doors, andI'll tell you the rest before the old lynx gets back."
We sat down close together, and he proceeded in a low tone to disobeyVigo.
"Enfin, as I said, the two young gentlemen were quite sans le sou, forthings had come to a point where M. le Duc looked pretty black at anyapplication for funds--he has other uses for his gold, you see. One dayMonsieur was expecting some one to whom he was to pay a thousandpistoles, and to have the money handy he put it in a secret drawer inhis cabinet in the room yonder. The man arrives and is taken toMonsieur's private room. Monsieur gives him his orders and goes to thecabinet for his pistoles. No pistoles there!"
Marcel paused dramatically. "And what then?" I asked.
"Well, it appears he had once shown M. le Comte the trick of the drawer,so he sent for him--not to accuse him, mind you. For M. le Comte is wildenough, yet Monsieur did not think he would steal pistoles, nor wouldhe, I will stake my oath. No, Monsieur merely asked him if he had evershown any one the drawer, and M. le Comte answered, 'Only Grammont.'"
And how have you learned all this?"
"Oh, one hears."
"One does, with one's ears to the keyhole."
"It behooves you, Felix, to be civil to your better!"
I made pretence of looking about me.
"Where is he?"
"He sits here. I am page to the Duke of St. Quentin. And you?"
"Touche!" I admitted bitterly enough. Little Marcel, my junior, myunquestioning follower in the old days, was now indeed my better, quitein a position to patronize.
"Continue, if you please, Marcel. Yet, in passing, I should like to askyou how much you heard our talk in there just now."
"Nothing," he answered candidly. "When they are so far down the room onecannot hear a word. In the affair of the pistoles they stood near thecabinet at this end. One could not help but hear. As for listening atkeyholes, I scorn it."
"Yes, it is well to scorn it. People have an unpleasant trick of openingdoors so suddenly."
He laughed cheerfully.
"Old Vigo caught us, certes. Let's see, where was I? Oh, yes, thenMonsieur put on his proud look and said, if it was a case of no one buthis son and his cousin, he preferred to drop the matter. But M. le Comtegot out of him what the trouble was and went off for Grammont, red asfire. The two together came back to Monsieur and denied up and downthat either of them knew aught of his pistoles, or had told of thesecret to any one. They say it was easy to see that Monsieur did notbelieve Grammont, but he did not give him the lie, and the matter camenear dropping there, for M. le Duc would not accuse a kinsman. But thenLucas gave a new turn to the affair."
"How long has Lucas been here, Marcel? Who is he?"
"Oh, he's a rascal of a Huguenot. Monsieur picked him up at Mantes, justbefore we came to the city. And if he spies on Monsieur's enemies aswell as he does on this household, he must be a useful man. He has thatlong nose of his in everything, let me tell you. Of course he waspresent when Monsieur missed the pistoles. So then, quite on his ownaccount, without any orders, he took two of the men and searched M. deGrammont's room. And in a locked chest of his which they forced openthey found five hundred of the pistoles in the very box Monsieur hadkept them in."
"And then?"
Marcel made a fine gesture.
"And then, pardieu! the storm broke. M. de Grammont raved like a madman.He said Lucas was the thief and had put half the sum in his chest todivert suspicion. He said it was a plot to ruin him contrived betweenMonsieur and his henchman, Lucas. It is true enough, certes, thatMonsieur never liked him. He threatened Monsieur's life and Lucas's. Hechallenged Monsieur, and Monsieur declined to cross swords with athief. He challenged Lucas, and Lucas took the cue from Monsieur. I wasnot there--on either side of the door. What I tell you has leaked outbit by bit from Lucas, for Monsieur keeps his mouth shut. The upshot ofthe matter was that Grammont goes at Lucas with a knife, and Monsieurhas the guards pitch my gentleman into the street. Then M. le Comteswore a big oath that he would go with Grammont. Monsieur told him if hewent in such company it would be forever. M. le Comte swore he wouldnever come back under his father's roof if M. le Duc crawled to him onhis knees to beg him."
"Ah!" I cried; "and then?"
"Marry, that's all. M. le Comte went straight out of this gate, withouthorse or squire. And we have not heard a word of either of them since."
He paused, and when I made no comment, said, a trifle aggrieved:
"Eh bien, you take it calmly, but you would not had you been here. Itwas an altogether lively affair. It wouldn't surprise me a whit if someday Monsieur should be attacked as he drives out. He's not one to forgetan injury, this M. Gervais de Grammont."
At the name, intelligence flashed over me, sudden and clear as lastnight's lightning-gleam. Yet this thing I seemed to see was so hideous,so horrible, that my mind recoiled from it.
"Marcel," I stammered, shuddering, "Marcel--"
"Mordieu! what ails you? Is some one walking on your grave?"
"Marcel, how is M. le Comte named?"
"The Comte de Mar? Oh, do you mean his names in baptism?Charles-Andre-Etienne-Marie. They call him Etienne. Why do you ask? Whatis it?"
It was a certainty, then. Yet I could not bring myself to believe thishorrible thing.
"I have never seen him. How does he look?"
"Oh, not at all like Monsieur. He has fair hair and gray eyes--quediable!"
For I had flung open Monsieur's door and dashed in.