An Enemy to the King
CHAPTER VIII.
A SWEET LADY IN DISTRESS
Blaise looked at me solemnly, with a face that seemed to say, "Did I notwarn you?" We had seated ourselves at either side of a small, roughtable, I on the edge of the bed, Blaise on a three-legged stool. For amoment I sat returning Blaise's gaze across the table; then noticing thatthe maid had left the door of our chamber slightly ajar, I arose andwalked stealthily to the crack, through which I could see a part of thekitchen below. Blaise remained seated at the table, glumly watching me.
I saw the maid bearing wine to a table near the window, where sat the twoguests whose names she had mentioned. The landlord was carrying a trayfull of bottles and drinking-cups out to La Chatre's men, who remainedbefore the inn, some having dismounted, some still on horse. I could heartheir talk, their oaths and cries to one another and to their horses, thesnorts and pawings of their steeds. A shout of welcome greeted the comingof the landlord with the wine.
With curiosity I fastened my gaze on the two at the table. I knewinstantly that the stout, erect, authoritative gentleman with thecarefully trimmed gray beard, full cheeks, proud brow, fearless eyes, andsoldierly air, must be Claude de la Chatre, governor of the Orleannaisand Berri; and that the slender, delicately formed, sinuous, gracefulyouth with smooth-shaven face, fine sharply cut features, intelligentforehead, reddish hair, intent gray eyes, and mien of pretended humility,was the governor's secretary, Montignac. La Chatre's look was frank,open, brave. Montignac had the face of a man assuming a character, andawaiting his opportunity, concealing his ambition and his pride,suppressing the scorn that strove to disclose itself at the corners ofhis womanish mouth. La Chatre wore a rich black velvet doublet andbreeches, and black leather riding-boots. Montignac was dressed, inaccordance with his pretence of servility, in a doublet of olive-coloredcloth, breeches of the same material, and buff boots. He sat entirelymotionless, looking across the table at his master with an almostimperceptibly mocking air of profound attention.
Monsieur de la Chatre appeared to be in a bad humor. He gulped down hiswine hastily, seeming not to taste it. With a frown of irritation hedrew from his belt a letter, of which the seal was already broken.Opening it with quick, angry motions, he held it before him, andfrowned the more deeply.
"_Peste!"_ he exclaimed, when the maid had left the kitchen; and then hewent on in a rich, virile, energetic voice: "To be met on the road bysuch a letter! When I saw the courier in the distance I felt that he wasbound for me, and that he brought annoyance with him. The duke has neverbefore used such a tone to me. If he were on the ground, and knew thetrouble these dogs of heretics give me, he would doubtless change hismanner of speech."
"Monseigneur the Duke of Guise certainly wrote in haste, and thereforehis expressions have an abruptness that he did not intend," repliedMontignac, in a low, discreet, deferential voice, whose very tone wasattuned to the policy of subtle flattery which he employed towards hismaster. "And he acknowledges, as well, your many successes as hecomplains of your failure to catch this Sieur de la Tournoire."
So the letter by which the governor was so irritated came from the Dukeof Guise, and concerned myself! My work in Berri had not been in vain.Instinctively I grasped the hilt of my sword, and at the same time Ismiled to myself to think how La Chatre might have felt had he knownthat, while himself and his secretary were the only persons in the innkitchen, the Sieur de la Tournoire saw and heard them from the crack ofthe slightly open door at the top of the stairway. To make myself saferfrom discovery, I now took my eye from the crack, keeping my earsufficiently near to catch the words of my enemies. I glanced at Blaise,who had heard enough to acquaint him with the situation, and whoseopen-eyed face had taken on an expression of alertness and amazementcomical to behold. He, too, had mechanically clutched the handle of hissword. Neither of us moving or speaking, we both listened. But thegovernor's next words were drowned by the noise that came from outside,as the landlord opened the front door to reenter the inn. La Chatre'smen, now supplied with wine, had taken up a song with whose words andtune we were well acquainted.
"Hang every heretic high, Where the crows and pigeons pass! Let the brood of Calvin die; Long live the mass! A plague on the Huguenots, ah! Let the cry of battle ring: Huguenots, Huguenots, Huguenots, ah! Long live the king!"
The singers uttered the word "Huguenots," and the exclamation "ah," withan expression of loathing and scorn which could have been equalled onlyby the look of defiance and hate that suddenly alighted on the face ofBlaise. He gave a deep gulp, as if forcing back, for safety, someanswering cry that rose from his breast and sought exit. Then he groundhis teeth, and through closed lips emitted from his throat a low growl,precisely like that of a pugnacious dog held in restraint.
The landlord closed the door, and the song of La Chatre's men sank into arudely melodious murmur. The host then went out by a rear door, and thegovernor resumed the conversation.
"_Corboeuf_! He is a fox, this Tournoire, who makes his excursions bynight, and who cannot be tracked to his burrow."
"We know, at least," put in the secretary, in his mild way, "that hisburrow is somewhere in the wooded mountains at the southern border of theprovince."
"Then he knows those mountains better than the garrisons do," saidLa Chatre. "The troops from the southern towns have hunted thehills in vain."
"When such a task as the capture of this rebel is entrusted to many, itis not undertaken with zeal. The chance of success, the burden ofresponsibility, the blame of failure, are alike felt to be divided."
This observation on the part of the youthful secretary seemed to beregarded by the governor as presumptuous. It elicited from him a frownof reproof. His look became cold and haughty. Whereupon Montignacgently added:
"As you, monsieur, remarked the other day."
La Chatre's expression immediately softened.
"The governor's brains are in the head of the secretary," thought I; "andtheir place in his own head is taken by vanity."
"I remember," returned La Chatre. "And I added, did I not,that--ahem, that--"
"That the finding of this Huguenot nuisance ought to be made theparticular duty of one chosen person, who should have all to gain bysuccess, or, better still, all to lose by failure."
And the suave secretary looked at his master with an expression of secretcontempt and amusement, although the innocent governor doubtless saw onlythe respect and solicitude which the young man counterfeited.
"You are right," said the governor, with unconcealed satisfaction. "Iought to reward you for reminding me. But your reward shall come,Montignac. The coming war will give me the opportunity to serve both theKing and the Duke of Guise most effectually, and by whatever favor Igain, my faithful secretary shall benefit."
"My benefit will be due to your generosity, not to my poor merit,monsieur," replied Montignac, with an irony too delicate for theperception of the noble governor.
"Oh, you have merit, Montignac," said La Chatre, with loftycondescension. Then he glanced at the letter, and his face clouded. "Butmeanwhile," he added, in obedience to a childish necessity ofcommunicating his troubles, "my favor depends, even for its continuancein its present degree, on the speedy capture of this Tournoire. Therascal appears to have obtained the special animosity of the Duke bysome previous act. Moreover, he is an enemy to the King, also a deserterfrom the French Guards, so that he deserves death on various accounts,old and new."
Herein I saw exemplified the inability of the great to forget or forgiveany who may have eluded their power.
"Let me, therefore," continued the governor, "consider as to what personshall be chosen for the task of bagging this wary game."
And he was silent, seeming to be considering in his mind, but really, Ithought, waiting for the useful Montignac to suggest some one.
"It need not be a person of great skill," said Montignac, "if it be onewho has a strong motive for accomplishing the service with success. For,indeed, the work is easy. The chosen person," h
e went on, as if takingpleasure in showing the rapidity and ingenuity of his own thoughts, "hasbut to go to the southern border, pretending to be a Huguenot trying toescape the penalties of the new edicts. In one way or another, by movingamong the lower classes, this supposed fugitive will find out realHuguenots, of whom there are undoubtedly some still left at Clochonne andother towns near the mountains. Several circumstances have shown thatthis Tournoire has made himself, or his agents, accessible to Huguenots,for these escapes of heretics across the border began at the same timewhen his rescues of Huguenot prisoners began. Without doubt, anypretended Protestant, apparently seeking guidance to Guienne, would, inassociating with the Huguenots along the Creuse, come across one whocould direct him to this Tournoire."
"But what then?" said the governor, his eagerness making him forget hispretence of being wiser than his secretary. "To find him is not to makehim prisoner,--for the Duke desires him to be taken alive. He probablyhas a large following of rascals as daring and clever as himself."
"Knowing his hiding-place, you would send a larger body of troopsagainst him."
"But," interposed the governor, really glad to have found a weak point inthe plan suggested by his secretary, "in order to acquaint me with hishiding-place, if he has a permanent hiding-place, my spy would have toleave him. This would excite his suspicions, and he would change hishiding-place. Or, indeed, he may be entirely migratory, and have nofixed place of camping. Or, having one, he might change it, for anyreason, before my troops could reach it. Doubtless, his followers patrolthe hills, and could give him ample warning in case of attack."
"Your spy," said Montignac, who had availed himself of the governor'sinterruption to empty a mug of wine, "would have to find means of doingtwo things,--the first to make an appointment with La Tournoire, whichwould take him from his men; the second, to inform you of thatappointment in time for you to lead or send a company of soldiers tosurprise La Tournoire at the appointed place."
"_Par dieu_, Montignac!" cried the governor, with a laugh of derision."Drink less wine, I pray you! Your scheme becomes preposterous. Of whatkind of man do you take him to be, this Sieur de la Tournoire, who offersa reward, in my own province, for my head and that of the Duke of Guise?"
"The scheme, monsieur," said Montignac, quietly, not disclosing to thegovernor the slightest resentment at the latter's ridicule, "is quitepracticable. This is the manner in which it can be best conducted. Yourchosen spy must be provided with two messengers, with whom he may havecommunication as circumstances may allow. When the spy shall have met LaTournoire, and learned his hiding-place, if he have a permanent one, onemessenger shall bring the information to you at Bourges, that you maygo to Clochonne to be near at hand for the final step. Having sent thefirst messenger, the spy shall fall ill, so as to have apparent reasonfor not going on to Guienne. On learning of your arrival atClochonne,--an event of which La Tournoire is sure to be informed,--yourspy shall make the appointment of which I spoke, and shall send thesecond messenger to you at Clochonne with word of that appointment, sothat your troops can be at hand."
"The project is full of absurdities, Montignac," said the governor,shaking his head.
"Enumerate them, monsieur," said Montignac, without change of tone orcountenance.
"First, the lesser one. Why impede the spy with the necessity ofcommunicating with more than one messenger?"
"Because the spy may succeed in learning the enemy's hiding-place, ifthere be one, and yet fail in the rest of the design. To learn hishiding-place is at least something worth gaining, though the projectaccomplish nothing more. Moreover, the arrival of the first messengerwill inform you that the spy is on the ground and has won La Tournoire'sconfidence, and that it is time for you to go to Clochonne. Theappointment must not be made until you are near at hand, for greatexactness must be observed as to time and place, so that you can surelysurprise him while he is away from his men."
"Montignac, I begin to despair of you," said the governor, with a lookof commiseration. "How do you suppose that La Tournoire could be inducedto make such an appointment? What pretext could be invented forrequesting such a meeting? In what business could he be interested thatwould require a secret interview at a distance from his followers?"
I thought the governor's questions quite natural, and was waiting in muchcuriosity for the answer of Montignac, of whose perspicacity I was nowbeginning to lose my high opinion, when the inn-maid entered the kitchen,and the secretary repressed the reply already on his lips. She took fromthe spit a fowl that had been roasting, and brought it to our chamber. Toavoid exciting her suspicions I had to leave my place of observation andreseat myself on the bed.
Having placed the fowl, hot and juicy, on the table between us, the maidwent away, again leaving the door partly open. Blaise promptly attackedthe fowl, but I returned to my post of outlook.
"Lack of zeal?" I heard the governor say. "_Par-dieu,_ where have Ilet a known Huguenot rest in peace in my provinces since the edictshave been proclaimed? And I have even made Catholics suffer forshowing a disposition to shield heretics. There was that gentleman ofthis very town--"
"M. de Varion," put in Montignac.
"Ay, M. de Varion,--a good Catholic. Yet I caused his arrest because hehid his old friend, that Polignart, who had turned heretic. _Mon dieu_,what can I do more? I punish not only heretics, but also those who shieldheretics. Yet the Duke of Guise hints that I lack zeal!"
"As to M. de Varion," said Montignac; "what is your intentionregarding him?"
"To make an example of him, that hereafter no Catholic will dare sheltera Huguenot on the score of old friendship. Let him remain a prisoner inthe chateau of Fleurier until the judges, whom I will instruct, shallfind him guilty of treason. Then his body shall hang at the chateau gatefor the nourishment of the crows."
"Fortunately," said Montignac listlessly, "he has no family to givetrouble afterward."
"No son," replied the governor. "Did not M. de Brissard say that therewas a daughter?"
"Yes, an unmarried daughter who was visiting some bourgeois relation inBourges at the time of her father's arrest."
"When she learns of her father's incarceration she will probably pesterme with supplications for his release. See to it, Montignac, that thisMlle. de Varion be not suffered to approach me."
My eavesdropping was again interrupted by the return of the inn-maid. Ongoing out of the chamber this time, she closed the door. Hunger andprudence, together, overcoming my curiosity, I did not open it, butjoined Blaise in disposing of the dinner. The table at which we ate wasnear the window of the chamber, and we could look out on the grassy spaceof land before the inn. La Chatre's men were moving about, looking totheir horses and harness, talking in little groups, and watching fortheir master's appearance at the inn door.
Presently four new figures came into view, all mounted. From our windowwe could see them plainly as they approached the inn. One of thesenewcomers was a young lady who wore a mask. At her side rode a maid,slim, youthful, and fresh-looking. Behind these were two serving boys,one tall, large, and strong; the other small and agile.
"By the blue heaven!" Blaise blurted out; "a dainty piece of womankind!"
"Silence, Blaise!" I said, reprovingly. "How dare you speak with suchliberty of a lady?"
"I thought I was supposed to be masquerading as a gentleman," he growled."But it was not of the lady that I spoke. It was the maid."
The lady had the slender figure of a woman of twenty. Over atight-fitting gown of blue cloth, she wore a cloak of brown velvet, whichwas open at the front. Fine, wavy brown hair was visible beneath herlarge brown velvet hat. She wore brown gloves and carried a riding whip.As for her face, her black mask concealed the upper part, but there weredisclosed a delicate red mouth and a finely cut chin. The throat waswhite and full.
The maid was smaller than the mistress. She had a pretty face, ratherbold blue eyes, an impudent little mouth, an expression ofself-confidence and challenge.
La Chatre's men
made room for this little cavalcade to pass to the inn.The maid looked at them disdainfully, but the lady glanced neither toright nor left. Having ridden up close to the inn, they dismounted andentered, thus passing out of our sight.
I would fain have again looked down into the kitchen, now that theseattractive guests had arrived to disturb the governor's confidentialtalk, but the inn-maid had closed our chamber door tight, and I mighthave attracted the governor's attention by opening it. Moreover, I couldnot long cherish the idea of watching, unobserved, the movements of alady. So, for some time, Blaise and I confined our attention to thedinner, Blaise frequently casting a glance at the door as if he wouldhave liked to go down-stairs and make a closer inspection of the prettyface of the maid.
Several times we heard voices, now that of a lady, now that of thegovernor, as if the two were conversing together, but the words spokenwere not distinguishable. It did not please me to think that the ladymight have come hither to join the governor.
At last the noise of La Chatre's men remounting told us that the governorhad rejoined them from the inn. Looking out of the window, we saw him attheir head, a splendid, commanding figure. Montignac, studious-looking,despite the horse beneath him, was beside the governor. I noticed thatthe secretary sat a horse as well as any of the soldiers did. I observed,too, and with pleasure, that the lady was not with them; therefore, shewas still in the inn. I was glad to infer that her acquaintance with LaChatre was but casual, and that her meeting with him at the inn had beenby chance.
The governor jerked his rein, and the troop moved off, northward, bound Iknew not whither, the weapons and harness shining in the sunlight. Iturned to Blaise with a smile of triumph.
"And now what of your croakings?" I asked. "As if the safest place in allFrance for us was not within sound of M. de la Chatre's voice, where hewould never suppose us to be! It did not even occur to him to ask whatguests were in the upper chamber! What would he have given to know thatLa Tournoire sat drinking under the same roof with him! Instead ofcoming to disaster, we have heard his plans, and are thus put on ourguard. More of your evil forebodings, my amiable Blaise! They mean good."
But Blaise looked none the less gloomy. "There is yet time for evil tocome of this journey, my captain," he said gravely.
I now made haste to finish my meal, that I might go down into the kitchenere the lady in the brown robe should depart.
Presently, Blaise, glancing out of the window, exclaimed, "The devil! Weare not yet rid of our friends! There is one of them, at least!"
I looked out and saw two mounted gentlemen, one of whom was Montignac,the governor's secretary, who had ridden back. The other, with whom hewas talking in low tones, and with an air of authority, was a man ofmy own age, dressed in the shabby remains of rich clothes. His faceshowed the marks of dissipation, and had a cynical, daredevil look.Now and then a sarcastic smile broke suddenly over the handsome andonce noble features.
"I have seen that man, somewhere, before," said I to Blaise.
While I stood searching my memory, and the man sat talking to Montignac,both having stopped their horses in front of the inn, there tramped up,from the South, four other travellers, all of a kind very commonly seenon the highways, in those days of frequent war. They were ragged soldiersof fortune, out at elbows, red of cheek and nose, all having the samelook of brow-beating defiance, ready to turn, in a moment, into abjectservility. The foremost of these was a big burly fellow with a blackbeard, and a fierce scowl.
As he came up towards the gentleman with whom Montignac was talking,there suddenly came on me a sense of having once, in the dim past, beenin strangely similar circumstances to those in which I was now. Once,long ago, had I not looked out in danger from a place of concealment upona meeting of those two men before an inn?
The burly rascal saluted the mounted gentleman, saying, in a coarse,strident voice:
"At your service, M. le Vicomte de Berquin."
"Know your place, Barbemouche!" was the quick reply. "I am talking with agentleman."
Then I remembered the morning after my flight from Paris, seven yearsbefore. Montignac's reckless-looking companion had been the gay gentlemangoing north, at whom I had looked from an inn shed. The other was the manwho had afterwards chased me southward at the behest of the Duke ofGuise. But he no longer wore on his hat the white cross of Lorraine, andthe Vicomte de Berquin's apparel was no longer gay and spotless. The twohad doubtless fallen on hard ways. Both showed the marks of reverses andhard drinking. Barbemouche's sword was, manifestly, no longer in the payof the Duke of Guise, but was ready to serve the first bidder.
Barbemouche shrugged his shoulders at De Berquin's reproof, and led histhree sorry-looking companions to a bench in front of the inn, where theysearched their pockets for coin before venturing to cross the threshold.
Montignac now pointed to the inn, spoke a few last earnest words toBerquin, handed the latter a few gold pieces, cast at him a threateninglook at parting, and galloped off to rejoin M. de la Chatre, whosecavalcade was now out of our sight. De Berquin gave him an ironical bow,kissed the gold pieces before pocketing them, dismounted, and entered theinn, replying only with a laugh to the supplicating looks of themoneyless Barbemouche and his hungry-looking comrades on the bench.
"Now I wonder what in the devil's name the governor's secretary wassaying to that man?" growled Blaise Tripault.
For reply, I gave a look which reflected the surmise that I saw inBlaise's own eyes.
"Well," I said, "if it be that, the Vicomte de Berquin will be a vastlyingenious gentleman if he can either find our hiding-place, or delude meaway from my men. To think that they should have chosen the firstmercenary wretch they met on their way! Yet doubtless the perspicaciousMontignac knows his man."
"The secretary pointed to this inn as if he were telling him that youwere here," observed Blaise, meditatively.
"But inasmuch as the secretary does not know that I am here," said I,"his pointing to the inn could not have accompanied that information. Hewas doubtless advising his friend to begin his enterprise with a heartymeal, which was very good advice. And now, as this Vicomte de Berquindoes not know me by sight, let us go down and make his acquaintance.Remember that you are the master, and make a better pretence of it thanyou have usually made."
"I pretend the master no worse than you pretend the servant," mutteredBlaise, while I opened the door of our chamber. A moment later we weredescending the stairs leading to the kitchen.
An unexpected sight met our eyes. M. de Berquin stood with his back to arear door, his arms extended, as if to prevent the departure of the lady,who stood facing him, in the attitude of shrinking back from him. Shestill wore her mask. Beside her stood her maid, who darted looks ofindignation at the smiling De Berquin. These three were the only ones inthe kitchen.
"I do not know you, monsieur!" the lady was saying, in a low voice ofgreat beauty.
"Death of my life! But you shall know me, mademoiselle," replied DeBerquin, who had not noticed the entrance of myself and Blaise; "for Iintend to guard you from harm on the rest of your journey, whether youwill or not!"
Blaise shot at me a glance of interrogation. To keep up our assumedcharacters, it was for him, not me, to interfere in behalf of this lady;yet he dared not act without secret direction from me. But I forgot ourpretence and hastened forward, my hand on my sword-hilt.
"I fear monsieur is annoying mademoiselle," I said, gently, assuming thatDe Berquin had been correct in addressing her as mademoiselle.
Startled at the voice of a newcomer, the three turned and looked at me insurprise. Blaise, at a loss as to what he ought to do, remained in thebackground.
"But," I added, "monsieur will not do so again for the present."
De Berquin took me in at a glance, and, deceived by my dress, saidcarelessly, "Go to the devil!" Then, turning from me to Blaise, as oneturns from an inferior to an equal, he remarked:
"You have a most impudent servant, monsieur!"
Blaise, emb
arrassed by the situation, and conscious that the curious eyesof the lady and the maid were upon him, could only shrug his shoulders inreply. The maid, whom he had so much admired, turned to her mistress witha look of astonishment at his seeming indifference. Seeing this, Blaisebecame very red in the face.
It was I who answered De Berquin, and with the words:
"And your servant, if you have one, has a most impudent master."
De Berquin turned pale with rage at the insulting allusion to hissomewhat indigent appearance.
"Your master shall answer for your impertinence!" he cried, drawing hissword and making for Blaise.
In an instant my own sword was out, and I was barring his way.
"Let _us_ argue the matter, monsieur!" said I.
"_Peste_!" he hissed. "I fight not lackeys!"
"You will fight _me_," I said, "or leave the presence of this lady atonce!"
Impelled by uncontrollable wrath, he thrust at me furiously. With atimely twist, I sent his sword flying from his hand to the door. Imotioned him to follow it.
Completely astonished, he obeyed my gesture, went and picked up hissword, opened the door, and then turned to Blaise and spoke these words,in a voice that trembled with rage:
"Monsieur, since you let your menial handle your sword for you, I cannothope for satisfaction. But though I am no great prophet, I can predictthat both you and your cur shall yet feel the foot of _my_ lackey on yournecks. And, mademoiselle," he added, removing his look to the lady, "thisis not the end of it with you!"
With which parting threats, he strode out of the inn, closing the doorafter him.
Blaise, deprived by his false position of the power of speech, stoodwith frowning brow and puffed-out cheeks, nervously clutching at hissword-hilt. The lady and her maid looked at him with curiosity, as ifa gentleman who would stand idly and speechlessly by, while hisservant resented an insult to a lady, was a strange being, to beviewed with wonder.
"Mademoiselle," said I, laying my sword on a table, "heaven is kind to mein having led me where I might have the joy of serving you."
The lady, whose musical voice had the sound of sadness in it, answeredwith the graciousness warranted by the occasion:
"My good man, your sword lifts you above your degree, even," and here sheglanced at Blaise, and continued in a tone of irrepressible contempt, "asthe tameness of some gentlemen lowers them beneath theirs."
Blaise, from whose nature tameness was the attribute farthest removed,looked first at the lady, in helpless bewilderment, then at me, with mutereproach for having placed him in his ridiculous position, and lastly atthe maid, who regarded him with open derision. To be laughed at by thispiquant creature, to whose charms he had been so speedily susceptible,was the crowning misery. His expression of woe was such that I could noteasily retain my own serious and respectful countenance.
Having to make some answer to the lady, I said:
"An opportunity to defend so fair a lady would elevate the most ignoble."
The lady, not being accustomed to exchanging compliments with aman-servant, went to her maid and talked with her in whispers, the twoboth gazing at Blaise with expressions of mirth.
Blaise strode to my side with an awkwardness quite new to him. His facewas in a violent perspiration.
"The devil!" he whispered. "How they laugh at me! Won't you explain?"
"Impossible!"
"I object to being taken for a calf," said Blaise, ready to burst withanger. Then, suddenly reaching the limit of his endurance, he faced thelady and blurted out:
"Mademoiselle, I would have run your pursuer through quickly enough, butI dared not rob my master--"
I coughed a warning against his betraying us. He hesitated, thendespairingly added, in a voice of resignation:
"--my master, the King, of a single stroke of this sword, which I havedevoted entirely to his service."
"I do not doubt," said the lady, with cold irony, "that your sword isactive enough when drawn in the service of your King."
"My King," replied Blaise with dignity, "had the goodness to make asomewhat similar remark when he took Cahors!"
"Cahors?" repeated the lady in a tone of perplexity. "But the King nevertook Cahors!"
"The King of France,--no!" cried Blaise; "but the King of Navarre did!"
"Blaise!" I cried, in angry reproof at his imprudence.
The tone in which I spoke had so startled the lady that she dropped hermask, and I saw the sweetest face that ever gladdened the eyes of a man.It was the face of a girl naturally of a cheerful nature, but newly madeacquainted with sorrow. Grief had not rendered the nature, or the face,unresponsive to transient impressions of a pleasant or mirthful kind.Hers was one of those hearts in which grief does not exclude allpossibility of gaiety. Sorrow might lie at the bottom, never forgottenand never entirely concealed, but merriment might ripple on the surface.As for its outlines, the face, in every part, harmonized with the graceand purity of the chin and mouth. Her eyes were blue and large, with aneloquence displayed without intent or consciousness.
"What does it mean?" she said, in a charming bewilderment. "The servantreproves the master. Ah! I see! The servant _is_ the master."
And she smiled with pleasure at her discovery.
"But still _your_ servant, mademoiselle," was all that I could say.
Blaise vented a great breath of relief. "I feel better now," he said,heartily, and he turned with a beaming countenance to the maid, wholooked at his stalwart form and promptly revised her opinion of him. Thetwo were soon in conversation together, at the fireplace, and I was leftto complete explanations with the lady, who did not attempt the coquetryof replacing her mask.
"Our secret is yours, mademoiselle, and our safety is in your hands."
"Your secret is safe, monsieur," she said, modestly averting her eyesfrom my frankly admiring look. "And now I understand why it was you whodrew sword."
"A privilege too precious to be resigned," I answered in a low tone,"even for the sake of my secret and my safety."
My words were spoken so tenderly that she sought relief from hercharming embarrassment by taking up my sword from the table, and saying,with a smile:
"I have you in my power, monsieur, follower of the King of Navarre! Whatif I were minded, on behalf of the governor of this province, to make youa prisoner?"
"My faith!" I could only reply, "you need no sword to makeprisoners of men."
"You hope to purchase your freedom with a compliment," she said,continuing the jest; "but you cannot close my eyes with flattery."
"It would be a crime beyond me to close eyes so beautiful!"
She gave a pretty little smile and shrug of helplessness, as if tosay, "I cannot help it, monsieur, if you will overwhelm me withcompliments which are not deserved, I am powerless to prevent you."But the compliments were all the more deserved because she seemed tothink them not so.
Her modesty weakened my own audacity, and her innocent eyes put me intoa kind of confusion. So I changed the subject.
"It appears to me, mademoiselle," I said, "that I have had the honor ofridding you of unpleasant company."
Her face quickly clouded, as if my words had brought to her mind agreater trouble than the mere importunities of an insolent adventurer.
"De Berquin!" she said, and then heaved a deep sigh; "I had forgottenabout him."
"I would not commit his offence of thrusting unwelcome company on you," Ireplied; "but I would gladly offer you for a few leagues the sword thathas already put him to flight."
She was for some time silent. Then she answered slowly in a low voice, "Iride towards Clochonne, monsieur."
Taking this for an acceptance of my offer, I sheathed my sword, andreplied with an animation that betrayed my pleasure:
"And I towards the same place, mademoiselle. When you choose to set out,I am ready."
"I am ready now, monsieur--," she said, lingering over the word"monsieur," as if trying to recall whether or not I had told her my name.
It was no time at which to disclose the title under which I was knownthroughout the province as one especially proscribed, and yet I wasunwilling to pass under a false name. Therefore, I said:
"I am M. de Launay, once of Anjou, but now of nowhere in particular. Thegreat have caused my chateau to be scattered over my lands, stone bystone, and have otherwise encouraged my taste for travel and adventure."
At this moment, glancing towards Blaise, I saw on his face a look ofalarm and disapproval, as if he feared that the lady or her maid might beaware that De Launay and La Tournoire were one man, but it was manifestfrom their faces that he had no cause for such an apprehension.
The lady smiled at my description, and adjusting her gloves, replied:
"And I am Mlle. de Varion, daughter of a gentleman of Fleurier--"
"What!" I interrupted, "the Catholic gentleman who has been imprisonedfor sheltering a Huguenot?"
"Yes," she answered, sorrowfully, and then with a strange trepidation shewent on: "and it is to save myself from imprisonment that I havedetermined to flee to the south, in the hope of finding refuge in one ofthe provinces controlled by your King of Navarre."
"But," I interposed, "how can you be in danger of imprisonment? It wasnot you, but your father, who violated the edict."
"Nevertheless," she answered, in a low and unsteady voice, averting herglance to the floor, "M. de la Chatre, the governor of the province, hasthreatened me with imprisonment if I remain in Berry."
"Doubtless," I said with indignation, "the governor does this in order toescape the importunities you would make in your father's behalf. He wouldsave his tender heart from the pain of being touched by your pleadings."
"It may be so," she answered faintly.
I did not tell her that the idea of releasing her father had alreadyentered my head. In order to bring him safe out of the Chateau ofFleurier, it would be necessary for me to return to Maury for my company.The attempt would be a hazardous one, and I might fail, and I did notwish to raise hopes in her for disappointment. She should not learn of myintention until after its fulfillment. In the meantime, less because Ithought she would really undergo danger by remaining at Fleurier, thanbecause I was loth to lose the new-found happiness that her presence gaveme, I would conduct her to Maury, on the pretext of its being the bestplace whence to make, at a convenient time, a safe flight to Guienne.
Having summoned the landlord and paid him, I waited for Mlle. de Varionto precede me out of the door. There was a moment's delay while her maidsought the riding whip which mademoiselle had laid down on one of thetables. At this moment, there came to me the idea of a jest which wouldfurnish me with amusement on the road southward, and afford mademoisellean interesting surprise on her arrival at Maury.
"It occurs to me, mademoiselle," said I, "that you will be glad to havesome guidance across the border. Let me recommend to you one, whoseservices I think I can assure you, and whom we may fall in with in thevicinity of Clochonne,--the Sieur de la Tournoire."
Mademoiselle turned white, and stared at me with a look of terroron her face.
"Decidedly," I thought, "as the mere mention of my name produces such aneffect on her, it is well that I am not going to introduce myself untilshe shall have learned that I am not such a terrible cutthroat as theCatholics in this province think me." And I said aloud:
"Fear not, mademoiselle. He is not as bad as his enemies represent him."
"I shall be glad to have his guidance," she said, still pale.
We left the inn and took horse, being joined, outside, by mademoiselle'stwo serving-boys. Resuming his character of gentleman, Blaise rode aheadwith the lady, while I followed at the side of the maid, he casting manyan envious glance at the place I occupied, and I reciprocating hisfeelings if not his looks. Nevertheless, I was sufficiently nearmademoiselle to be able to exchange speeches with her. The day was at itsbest. The sun shone; a gentle breeze played with the red and yellowleaves in the roadway, and I was happy.
Looking down a byway as we passed, I saw, at some distance, M. de Berquintalking to Barbemouche, while the latter's three scurvy-lookingcompanions stood by, as if awaiting the outcome of the conversationbetween the two.
"Oho, M. de Berquin!" I said to myself, with an inward laugh; "I do notknow whether you are bargaining for help to persecute Mlle. de Varion, orto spy on the Sieur de la Tournoire; but it has come to pass that you cando both at the same time."