CHAPTER XVII
THE FLIGHT FROM SCEAUX.
The responsibility brought by the possession of such valuable statepapers oppressed me greatly, to say nothing of the perils which wouldbeset their custodian if it became Jerome's purpose to reclaim them. Ithought it most prudent and proper under present conditions to see thedispatches safe in de Serigny's hands--then, at least, I would beabsolved from any blame in the matter. Serigny held me responsible,and it would perhaps be the part of wisdom to act independently ofJerome, report fully to Serigny, and if it were then his wish that theinvestigation concerning Yvard and Madame du Maine be pressed tofurther discoveries, nothing would be easier than to return to Parisalmost before Jerome could miss me. I need tell Serigny nothing of mysuspicion of Jerome; even if true, his animosity would vanish with thecause which gave it birth.
There was much to acquaint Serigny with, much perchance he knewalready. Paris swarmed with rumors. Every lip was busy withsecond-hand gossip coming, as each relator declared, from the mostreliable sources. "My cousin, who is laundress to the Countess deLanois, says," and upon this immaculate authority the butcher upon hismorning rounds detailed the most delightful and impossible gossip tohis customers.
"Pierre, my son, the valet, who is in the confidence of the Duke ofGesvres, heard His Grace say with his own lips"--and so the wine-roomstories flew, gathering strength and falsehood as they went. But thestory of to-day gave the lie to that of yesterday, and no man knew thetruth.
War with Spain filled every mouth, yet none had a why or a wherefore.The King said "war," and all his nation echoed. No, not all. Manythere were who gave voice to the cry with hearts that rebelled, withclear brains questioning the right of one man to plunge a whole peopleinto renewed slaughter. These held their peace for the sake of theirnecks. "_I am the State_," Louis had declared, and such ideas were notfor the canaille to have; they must curb their tongues to cheat thegibbet. Being a soldier and under orders, I had no right to formopinions, but, sobered in some degree by these reflections, paced aboutuntil it came time to take horse and away.
"In the name of the wandering Ulysses, Placide, where have you beenthese two good hours?" said Jerome, suddenly coming toward me.
"Has it been so long? I tired of the crowd and strolled alone throughthe gardens."
His quick eye caught sight of the handkerchief tucked snugly in my belt.
"A lady? And so soon?" he bantered me.
My tell-tale flush permitted no denial, nor did I care to discuss it.As we talked we drifted into a small room just off the main hall.
"By the way, Placide, had we better not place our dispatches in somesafe hiding until we leave here? It might be suspected we have them.The devil only knows what that scheming de Valence and du Maine may notunearth. Their spies are everywhere."
I agreed with him. It was as well; anything to gain time and allaysuspicion. But I understood my lady's warning was true; hisearnestness convinced me.
"Where do you carry them?"
"Sewn in the lining of my cloak," I replied. A lie, but pardonable.
"Why, you careless fellow; they maybe lost. Where is your cloak?"seeing I did not have it.
"In charge of Damien; he is trusty."
"Better have it yourself; wait here, I will go and fetch it."
I congratulated myself on this diplomatic stroke, for Jerome was aboutto start off in all haste when Damien himself appeared, and before Icould stop him, delivered the message.
"The horses are saddled and at the door."
"Go and wait with them."
Jerome had taken my cloak from the fellow's arm, for in fact he had it,and now laid it across his knee. His blank expression showed utterastonishment at the disclosure.
"What does this mean? We are to rest here to-night?"
"No; I ride to Paris."
"Why?"
"I am afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of everything. We are in the house of our enemies, and it is thequality of courage to be discreet."
During this brief dialogue Jerome was stealthily running his handsthrough the lining of my cloak until he comprehended I had misled him.I could almost put his thought in words. Together we arose, layingeach our hands upon the half-closed door, he to hold it, I to open it,steady-eyed, and each reluctant to cause the breach we knew must come.
"Placide, the papers are not here," he said in a quiet tone, yet fullof determination.
"I know it."
"Why have you deceived me then?" for he could mask his purposes nolonger, "Hand me those dispatches."
"No. My orders are to place them in the hands of Serigny."
"But I must have them."
"And I tell you as firmly, you can not."
"Listen, Captain," he begged in altered tones, "those dispatches maycompromise Celeste. Let us take from them anything which implicatesher in this miserable intrigue, and deliver the rest. That is easy. Ican open and close them again so it can not be told."
"My orders are not to open them."
"By God, you will!" he burst out with volcanic fury, "no, no; I am toohot. We can lose them; tell Serigny they were never found; tell himYvard carried them off; tell him he never had them. We can fix a tale."
"It would be a long story, and a liar must needs have a good memory."
I was playing for time, time to think, time to get away.
"But I will go with you to Serigny," he insisted, "tell the lie andmake him to believe. 'Pshaw, man, you know not the ways of the world,at least not at the Court of France."
"Think, Jerome, of the war, of our people in the colonies, of ourhonor?"
"I care not for it all," the wild passion in his voice made me almostfear him. "All that is as nothing to me where Celeste is concerned.Oh, Placide, think of it! I love her, love her, love her--do youcomprehend what that means to such a man as I? I, who have loved heralmost from her birth, have seen her taken from me and sold--yes, soldby her money-loving father, sold, sold! I, who have borne all herhusband's leers when, flushed with the insolence of rank and wine, thisshriveled bridegroom bore her as a piece of ornament to his house inParis. Can I bear to lose her now?
"But, Jerome, you would not be such a coward as to permit our brethrenin the colonies to be slaughtered, while you tell your pitiful lie toshield a woman? It can not be done. What a fool you are come to be.Man, man, where is your courage?"
"I care not. Love for such a woman would make of Truth a liar, and ofJove a fool. Think, Placide, think of her, Celeste, in the Bastille,the irons cutting into her delicate hands, those hands which I have sofondly held within my own--the cold stones for her bed. Or, worse: Theblock, the headsman and the jeering rabble. Have you no feeling, man?Suppose there was some woman whom you loved--a guilty love, Igrant--but so strong, so deep, so overpowering, you could not masterit? Suppose _she_ were threatened, would you not protect her even ifyou lost your life; yea, bartered away your honor?"
A pale little tearful face thrust itself before me as he spoke, and Iknew my own weak heart. I confess his pleading staggered me, and Ihesitated. He came closer; all the love and fear of a strong anddesperate man wove itself into his words.
"Could you only have seen her two hours ago when you left her chamber;have heard her sobs, felt the tremble of her heart when she threwherself, just as when a child she used to do, into my arms pleading forprotection! Those dispatches will ruin her. She so calm, so proud, sobrave to all the world, wept like a terrified baby upon my breast.Placide, I'd die and go to hell to save her. She so cold and pure, hervery name is a reproach to this flock of butterfly women. This womanloves me, loves me even though that love be what men call dishonor.Bah! I hate the word. Her father never sold her heart. No, that wasmine, forever mine. Had I but foreseen this I'd have left you rottingin Bertrand's dungeon. No, no. Placide, I meant it not; I'm notmyself; forgive me, comrade; pity her and pity me."
I vaguely wondered what there could be in the packet
to cause him sosincere an apprehension. But I must think of my people and be strong.I denied him once for all. He sprang at me with the fury of a demon.Being the cooler and stronger, I threw him off easily and reached thedoor as he came again with his sword. It was a delicate predicament.I could easily kill him. Wild with a lover's fear, he left his frontopen to my blade, but I'd had enough of death. He paused to shove atable from his path, which gave me time to open and slip through thedoor.
In a moment he rushed out behind me, pale and panting. The corridor,deserted, echoed to our flying steps. I ran on ahead making my waytoward the horses. Meeting people outside, we had to slacken our gait,smile, and conceal the realities of the situation, the necessity forwhich he apprehended as quickly as I.
Four horses stood ready, and choosing the one I thought best fitted fora hard chase--it was evident we could not afford to fight it out atSceaux--and to fight seemed now his purpose--I vaulted lightly into thesaddle, and before Jerome could hinder, had jumped the low wall andtaken the direct road to Paris.
Practiced horseman as Jerome was, it took him no time to follow, andhis grooms joined in the chase.
On, on, we sped. Trees, fences, walls and people all melted into onemotley and indistinguishable stream. In the open road we strung out,according to the speed of our mounts, one of the grooms droppingfarther and farther in the rear. The distance between Jerome andmyself, despite his frantic belaborings of his brave steed, grewsteadily greater.
Just before we passed a crooked lane off to the left, leading whither Iknew not, Jerome turned in his saddle and called to the two grooms nowwell to the rear.
"That way quick; to the Versailles road. Cut him off."
The fellows obeyed, reining their horses into a swinging lope, as, lesshurried, they took the lane indicated. Jerome thence rode on after mealone. The situation was now becoming awkward. I had acted withoutcool consideration heretofore, taking the Paris road because it was theonly one I knew, and trusting thereafter largely to fortune. Now, as Icaught occasional glimpses of the city spires, the towers of NotreDame, I must perforce remember I had no hopes from them. The crazedman behind knew the city well, while to me it was a labyrinth ofdifficulty. I had no friends, while he counted many. I must act, andthat quickly. Had I but known enough to turn down that lane into theVersailles road I could have reached the palace without molestation,thanks to my good luck in picking the best horse of the lot. Thinkingof the lane brought an idea which promised well.
Moderating my speed gradually I suffered Jerome to draw nearer. I thencalled over my shoulder that as we were now man to man, we mightdismount and fight it out upon a piece of level sward beside the road.His horse was nearly spent, and inflamed to fury by the fear of myescape, he eagerly agreed. While we parleyed, I worked myself into aposition near his horse's head, and as he prepared to alight, snatchedmy sword and with a quick upper cut severed one rein near the bit. Theblade having cut his horse slightly under his throat, he reared andplunged, and finding himself uncontrolled started madly off down theroad, Jerome cursing, screaming and clinging to his mane.
I had to laugh at the success of my stratagem, for though it was ascurvy trick to play an old friend, it was much the simplest way out ofthe difficulty to dispose of him in this bloodless fashion. I put myhorse about now without interference. When I wheeled down the lanetoward Versailles, Jerome's clatter and dust was just dying away overthe crest of a distant hill, making most excellent time in thedirection of Paris.
Now that this new danger was past, I rode on heavy-hearted enough, forI had grown to love Jerome, and blamed him little for his sudden touchof fury. For I was nearly in the same boat, borne on by the samestrong currents as Jerome.
Verily, what will man not do for woman? Love had turned him from acourteous nobleman of France, a brave and kindly gentleman, into thefrenzied coward who would lie to his master, slay his friend, and turntraitor to his countrymen. A god could not love and be wise.
I jogged along slowly, seeking to rest my horse, for I could not tellhow soon I must look to his speed for safety. It was necessary alsothat I should see the two fellows who watched the Versailles roadbefore they caught sight of me. Possibly an artifice might avail mewhere force would fail.
Presently from a slight eminence the broad highway could be seenwinding out of Paris, glistening in the starlight, for it was now afterdusk, twisting in dusty undulations toward the distant palace of theKing. I drew rein among some trees which served for shelter, andscanned the way to see if the watchers were in sight. The lane, beforeit entered the Versailles road, branched out into two portions, onebearing away toward Paris, while the other traversed a piece of lowground that struck the main road several hundred yards in the otherdirection. Within the irregular triangle thus formed the two groomshad thrown themselves upon the ground, being distinctly visible in alittle clearing.
Their position commanded quite a considerable stretch of road towardthe city, and as by going that way it would take a good hour and a halfof hard riding to get so far, it was certain they did not expect me topass for some time. That cut-off through the lane must have been tenmiles the shorter journey.
This reflection gave me some hope that I might be able to slip by in agallop before they could take horse. Yet I could not afford to wastemuch time, for Jerome might perchance find means to follow, and wouldnot be in a pleasant humor. There could be no accounting for thelengths to which his desperation and folly might carry him. I had needfor both haste and caution.
I was now at the top of a slight hillock, the grooms resting at thefoot. As ill fortune would have it, my horse's hoof loosened a stone,and one of them looking up recognized my figure clear drawn against thefading colors of the sky. They both jumped up with an alertness whichwould have done credit to old woodsmen, and before I could dodge by,had remounted and taken possession of the road. My more elevatedposition and perhaps better hearing, too, enabled me to detect thecoming of persons along the road from Paris. Certainly as many asthree or four horsemen, perhaps a vehicle. It could hardly be possiblethat Jerome had made the trip so quickly, yet I did not know what otherand shorter way he might find. At any rate every instant intensifiedthe danger, for if it were Jerome, then, indeed, I could not hope tomake Versailles that night.
Listening more critically I decided they were travelling too slowly tobe Jerome's party.
I would then most gladly have charged the insolents in front and takenall chances, but my half hour of quiet thought had brought me theconclusion it was too much to risk my life, at least until Serigny wasacquainted with the information we had gained. I, too, was the onlyperson who knew of the traitors on board le Dauphin.
"Who are you, and what do you mean stopping a gentleman's path?" Icalled to the twain who had drawn a little away from the foot of thehill seeing the disadvantage of their former position in case I chargedthem, and preferring to receive me on the open ground.
"No harm, Monsieur, we only mean to detain you until M. de Grevillecomes up," the slender man spoke quite politely.
"M. de Greville will not come up this night--may God have mercy on hissoul," I added solemnly.
"Why not, fine sir?" the gruffer fellow on the big bay questioned withsome heat. I made no quibble on his manner, but replied:
"I doubt I have slain him. He lies back yonder in the road to Sceaux,and I know not whether he be dead or still lives."
They hesitated and consulted together in a low tone; I saw myopportunity to press their indecision.
"What excuse can you make and what authority have you for halting anofficer of the King with dispatches to the King? With M. Jerome deGreville to stand between you and harm it was dangerous enough; now itis a matter of hanging."
"But M. de Greville is not dead," they protested together, "we left hima few minutes since alive and well." I seized upon the vacillationmanifest in their voices and proceeded with confidence.
"Then how think you I came along this road? Think you
M. Jerome wouldlet me go so easily? You know his temper too well. Does he change hismind like a woman? I turned about to take the nearer path, and see,his blood is not yet dry upon my sword."
"We do not believe you. It is some trick."
"If you will but move this way and give me clear passage to Versailles,I will go and say nothing. You can then return and minister to yourmaster."
"Nay, we'll hold the road an hour, which gives him time to come up. Anhour gone and you may pursue your journey."
"Then, forsooth, one of you can make his peace with God. I'll shootyour stoutest bully and try blades with the other."
I raised the pistol which had been concealed unknown to Jerome, and tosay the truth, it looked formidable enough all a-glitter beneath therising moon, though I doubted much if I could strike my mark.
As I started resolutely onward I warned them:
"Pull your nags off in yonder level space, leave the left fork free, orby the gods, you burly black-haired rascal, I'll take the first shot atyou, you make the fairest target. Way there, in the King's name!"
As is ever so with low-born churls, and no gentleman to command, eachlooked to the other for some act of heroism, and each sought his ownsafety.
They stood their ground only an instant, then pulled aside as I hadbidden them. As soon as I passed them a decent distance as if I had nofear, I put spurs to my good steed, and, breathing more freely than Ihad done for many days, heard the merry pounding of his hoofs upon theopen way to my mission's end.