CHAPTER XXIII.

  A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY.

  Meanwhile Jacques had undertaken to manage my little affair at Biloxiwith tact and discretion. And this is how the fellow did it:

  It seems that Jacques thought no harm of the note, and when he took itfirst to the house my lady was out. The honest fellow, doing his bestto carry out my instructions, refused to leave it. When he returned,my lady worked, bent down amongst her flowers, in the little gardenbeside their cottage. The Chevalier stood some distance off, busiedsomeway, Jacques knew not how, but with his face turned away from mymessenger as he came up. Jacques handed the note to my lady throughthe fence, and she took it gently by the corner, fearing to soil it.She held it up to look at the name written upon it, and seeing it washer own, looked again more curiously at the writing. She did not knowthe hand. Then she gaily called to the Chevalier:

  "Oh, Charles, come here; see what I have; it is a missive to your wife,and from some gay gallant, too. I do not know the writing. Do youcome here and read it to me. My hands are so--" She held up two smallwhite hands dabbled in the dirt.

  "Perhaps some invitation to a court ball. We'll go, eh, Agnes?"

  He came like the fine, strong gentleman he was, across the garden,taking the note from her and tearing it open. He began straightway toread, my lady on tip-toe behind him reading over his shoulder, andholding her contaminated hands away from his coat. His face grewpuzzled at the first, then as he seemed to finish, he stood a paceapart from my lady and read again. There was murder in his face--yetso white and quiet.

  He threw down the note and ground it into the soft earth beneath hisheel. Then he caught my lady firmly by both her shoulders and held herfast, at full arm's length, gazing steadily into her face.

  "God in heaven," as Jacques said to me; "Master, what eyes has thatChevalier de la Mora! No man could lie to him with those eyes readingwhat a fellow thought." Jacques could not make himself to leave; hestood rigid and watched.

  "Well, Madame?"

  "She tried to laugh, but her husband's face forbade that this could bea spark of lover's play.

  "Well, Madame?"

  "Why, Charles, what is the matter with you, you behave so strangely?"

  The Chevalier had grown an older man, his face stern and resolute, eyesa-glitter, and mouth drawn in tense, determined lines. A mostdangerous man.

  "Why, Charles, what is the matter?"

  "When did you meet him at Sceaux? What did you do?"

  "Meet who?"

  "Don't lie to me, woman, I am in no mood for subterfuge."

  She besought him with one frightened look, one step forward to him asif for protection, which he repelled; then she looked as though shemight weep.

  "Neither do you weep. Tell me how many notes like this have youreceived?"

  "Like what? I could not read it, you held it so high," she sobbed.

  The Chevalier stooped down, picked up the crumpled paper from theearth, and smoothed it out. He then handed it to her, and regarded herface intently as she read it.

  "Read this, Madame, and see how careless you have been."

  And my lady read the note; she, too, read it again, the first readingnot sufficing her to understand. Then she looked at her husband withgreat wide-open eyes; she was now calm, and as quiet as he.

  "Truly, Charles, I know nothing of this."

  "It was always said, Madame, at Sceaux, you could take the stage andplay the parts of distressed and virtuous damosels," he answered her,coldly curling his lip.

  "Tell me, Madame, as you value your soul, what is this Captain deMouret to you?"

  "As I value my soul," my lady answered him direct and steadily, lookingstraight into his eye, her own hands folded across her heaving breast."As I value my soul, Charles, I know nothing of him."

  "What does he mean when he says here 'I was hasty and too impulsivewhen we parted in the chapel at Sceaux'?"

  "Upon my honor, Charles, I do not know. I never saw the man in all mylife--to know him."

  "Upon your _honor_," the Chevalier repeated.

  And my lady's cheek flushed fire. But her form straightened up, andher eyes met his unflinching, without guilt or fear. The Chevalierturned and caught sight of Jacques, for the lout, according to hisstory, had grown to the spot as firm as one of the oaks.

  "Here, you fellow, come here, _come here_!"

  And Jacques dared not disobey him.

  "Here, fellow, how many notes like this have you brought to my wife?"

  "Only that one, my lord." Jacques started in by telling the truth, andhe followed it up religiously. According to his account of it, theChevalier looked him straight through and through until he dared nottell a lie.

  "Mind that you tell me the truth. Who gave you this note?"

  "Captain de Mouret."

  "When?"

  "Last night."

  "Where?"

  "At his quarters."

  "To whom did he say you should deliver it?"

  "To Madame Agnes de la Mora."

  The Chevalier stooped, picked up the envelope, and re-read thesuperscription, handing it over to my lady, who took it unseeing.

  "Did he expect a reply?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  "And where did he say to bring it?"

  "Bring it to him when he returned from across the Bay this afternoon.I was to await him upon the shore."

  "At what hour?"

  "None was named, my Lord; he said it would be late, perchance."

  Verily, as Jacques told it me, he must have drained the stupid fellowdry.

  Then the Chevalier turned to my lady with the utmost courtesy:

  "What say you, Madame, shall I bear your reply to this gentle captain?For by my faith, Madame, you require a more careful go-between thanthis, one more discreet and less glib of tongue."

  "Charles, upon my honor, I know nothing of all this; I have never seenthis Captain de Mouret."

  He looked as if he did not hear her. He glanced at the sun, full twohours high, drew his sword and started to leave the garden.

  He paused to doff his cap, and say, "I bear your message for you,Madame; verily, I am honored."

  My lady neither screamed nor fainted during his questioning of Jacques;she stood and listened as one dazed, or who but dimly understood. TheChevalier strode out sword in hand.

  "For shame, Charles," she called to him calmly enough, though she wasdeadly pale, "here is some wretched mistake--"

  "Yes, there does appear to have been a mistake--in the delivery of thisprecious billet. I will speedily make that right."

  "Charles, Charles!"

  He turned. Her bearing was full as proud as his. He looked from thewoman to the paper in his hand.

  "Well, if you know not this man, then he has wantonly insulted you. Ishall await this Captain de Mouret by the water, and there I shall knowthe truth. He shall explain what means this pretty letter to my wife."

  Jacques watched her proudly erect figure enter the door. He saw hersway a moment in indecision, then sink beside the bed to pray. Shecame shortly to the door again and called him. The fellow's brainworked slowly, and he had not yet comprehended the extent of mischiefhe had done. That he had done something amiss, though, he began tounderstand.

  "You had that note from Monsieur le Capitaine de Mouret?"

  "Yes, Madame."

  "And he said deliver it to me?"

  "To Madame Agnes de la Mora. Am I not right?"

  "Yes, I am Madame Agnes de la Mora, but that note was not intended forme."

  She came closer to Jacques, so close indeed she laid her trembling handupon his sleeve.

  "Tell me--you know this Captain de Mouret well--tell me if you wouldsave an innocent woman, has this Captain de Mouret a love affair here?Answer me, answer me truly, has he a love affair, or--or a mistress?"

  Her innocence and direct question abashed Jacques sorely and set him awondering what manner of escapade was this his master had got into.
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  "I will go to her, be she what she may, go to anybody; my husband mustnot kill this innocent man. No; and here I disturb myself about my ownreputation, while two lives are in jeopardy. I must think, I mustact--but how?"

  And she broke down to weep again, showing the woman in her that wasbehind so brave a front. Her tears were not for long. Jacques felt itwas his turn now to say something, so he blundered out, "See theGovernor;" then one whit better he went, "_I_ will see the Governor foryou."

  The good fellow had in that moment for the first time realized that hecould stop the affair, and do it he would if he had to quit the colony.And she such a lovely lady, so gentle with the poor.

  "Do you not fear to speak with him of such as this?"

  "No, Madame, Bienville's soldiers do not fear him; they leave that forhis enemies."

  And so it fell out that Jacques told the Governor. And he told him all.

  It was ever Bienville's wont to act with quick decision.

  "Order Major Boisbriant to report to me at once." And off postedJacques upon his errand.

  That officer attended with military promptitude.

  "Major Boisbriant, do you seek on the instant the Chevalier de la Mora,and bear him company wherever he may go until you are relieved. Putupon him no restraint, and say nothing of your having such orders fromme if you can avoid it. There is trouble brewing here, which I want toprevent; an affair of honor, you understand. He has gone toward thelanding on the Bay. Be discreet and delicate."

  Boisbriant nodded his comprehension, saluted, and was gone. Bienvilleturned to Jacques.

  "Saddle my horse at once and bring him here."

  It was much later than I had hoped before I could with decency returnto Biloxi. Impatient, childish and excited I recrossed the bay,leaving a little detail of soldiers to watch beside the body of myfriend. As soon as I saw Jacques on the other shore I knew somethinghad gone wrong. That senseless knave was pacing uncertainly about thebeach, stopping here and there to dig great holes in the sand with histoe, and carefully filling them up again. The fellow, ever on thewatch for me, was at the same time watching the path from Biloxi, andseemed to dread my coming. Instead of meeting me at the water, hewaited for me to approach him, thus leaving the two boatmen out ofhearing.

  "Well, give me the note; why stand there like a driveling fool," forthe fellow's hesitant manner angered and frightened me.

  "There is no note, sir."

  "No reply?"

  "The lady sent none."

  "Why?"

  Under my questions Jacques turned red and pale, then he blundered out:

  "The Chevalier de la Mora said he would bring the answer to youhimself--at the shore."

  He kept his eyes fast riveted upon another hole he was digging in thesand.

  "The--Chevalier?" I knew what that meant. Great God! and this was theend of it all.

  "Tell me, you bungling fool, what knows he of this?"

  "Pardon, Master; I thought no harm of it; you had never before employedme on such an errand."

  It was now my own turn to seek the ground with my eyes, so just, sohumble was the rebuke.

  "I thought no harm of it, sir, and gave it to Madame in the garden; shecalled upon the Chevalier to read it for her."

  "What said he? To her? Was he violent?"

  "No sir, most polite; terribly polite, and cool; but, master, you mustnot meet him; he will kill you."

  Of this I had scant doubt.

  "Did he make no sign as if he would do her harm?"

  "No, sir, not then, but he looked so queer one could hardly say what hemeditated. I would not care to have him look at me like that."

  I was paralyzed by the suddenness of the ill-fortune which hadbefallen, but I was to be allowed no day of grace in which to plan aline of conduct. My face had been turned all this while toward thesea, there being something soothing to me about the long, even sweep ofthose bright, blue waters in the south.

  Jacques faced the town. I noted a deprecatory gesture, and followinghis gaze saw the Chevalier himself coming our way at a good round pace.My knees did quake, and the veriest poltroon might have well beenashamed of the overweening fear which possessed me. In defense ofwhich I may say, I believe it was due in large part to my great respectand fondness for de la Mora, as well as a deep consciousness of thejustice of his cause. From long habit I looked first to my weapons,but for once felt no joy in them.

  "Captain de Mouret," he greeted me with a soldier's formal courtesy.

  "Chevalier de la Mora."

  "Captain, I have the honor to return to you a note which I believebears your name," and he handed me the unfortunate billet.

  "Am I right? Is that your hand?"

  I scorned to lie, and answered him evenly;

  "It is."

  "Is that note properly directed? To Madame de la Mora?"

  "It is, but--"

  "Have you any explanation, sir, to offer?"

  For the life of me I could think of nothing to say; I could not tellhim the truth, neither could I lie to him with grace. So I simply said:

  "It was not her fault," probably the worst remark I could have made.

  "Then, this note is true? You did meet my wife by appointment in theruined chapel at Sceaux?"

  "No, by my honor, there was no appointment; I came upon her by chance,and through no consent of hers."

  "And so you presumed to meet my wife in a lonely place--which shedenies to me upon her honor, as you now swear; you were there 'hot,impulsive and hasty' which this _honorable_ missive of yours cravespardon for. Now you seek another private interview which you say youcan not live without?"

  I nodded moodily, wishing only to have the matter over, and avoid hisfurther questioning.

  "By my soul, Captain, I am rejoiced to find you so frank--rejoiced thatyou do not lie. The other, God knows, is bad enough."

  I winced, but held my tongue.

  "Our business, then, is plain enough; and there is no time like thepresent."

  So saying he cast off his coat and began to roll his sleeves back,leaving bare that magnificent forearm of his, supple and dexterous.Imitating him we were both soon stripped for action.

  I had only my light rapier, worn about the garrison, while he was armedwith his heavy campaign blade. I was already a dead man, or so I felt,for there was no spirit in me for the fight. Our blades crossed, andimmediately he noted the disparity of arms.

  "Captain," he remarked, composedly, drawing back a pace. "This is abad business; I shall surely kill you, but wish to do so as agentleman. Permit me to exchange our weapons, so you fence not at suchgreat disadvantage."

  And he offered me the hilt of his own reversed sword.

  "Chevalier de la Mora, you are a gallant gentleman, will you believe aman who has not yet lied to you, and who feels a word is your due?"

  "Be quick," he replied, "we maybe interrupted."

  "I have wronged you and will render full atonement. But it has onlybeen a wrong of the heart; one of which I had no control, no choice.Your sweet wife has never, by word or deed, dishonored the noble nameshe bears."

  "Of course, Captain, it is a gentleman's part to make suchprotestations. It is fruitless for us to discuss this matter further,except as we had so well begun."

  So intent were we both that neither had seen Jacques leave us, nor hadeither heard the swift hoof beats of a horse upon the deadening sand,until the rider was full upon us.

  Bienville. Behind him, on foot, just emerging from the brush somedistance away, Boisbriant and Jacques.

  "Gentlemen, gentlemen, put by your weapons. What does this mean?" Hehad flung himself from his horse and stood between.

  De la Mora sullenly dropped his point.

  "A mere private matter of honor, sire."

  "Are there so few enemies of France with whom to fight that you mustneeds turn your swords at each other to rob me of a good soldier when Ineed every one?"

  By this time Boisbriant and Jacques
had come up, and Bienvillecommanded:

  "Major, do you accompany the Chevalier de la Mora to his quarters. Youwill take his parole to remain there during the night, and he willreport to me at ten to-morrow. Placide, do you come with me."

  He gave up his horse to Jacques, and taking me by the arm led me in thedirection of the garrison. Truly, I was in no better plight, for Ifeared reproof from the Governor more than the steel of de la Mora.During all this time I said no word. We returned to Biloxi in absolutesilence. Bienville, with all a gentleman's instinct, recognized thedelicacy of my position.

  The Governor took me at once to his own room, and sat me down at thetable.

  "Now, Placide, tell me all about this miserable affair,"

  "I can not, sire; believe me, I can not. I beg of you not to put uponme a command I must disobey. This wretched matter is not for me totell, even to you."

  "A woman?"

  I held my peace.

  "Yes, I thought as much. Is it your fault or his, Placide?"

  "Mine."

  He drummed on the table with his fingers a while before he spoke again.

  "Then, my lad, there is but one thing I can do, that is to send youaway from here at once. You can leave this place to-night, seek outTuskahoma, make your way to Pensacola, thence to Havana, where Iwarrant you will find other occupation. Or, if you so desire, I willaccredit you to Governor Frontenac in the north."

  I chose Havana, there being the greater prospect of active servicethere. It took the methodical Governor but brief space to give me suchletters as would insure me fitting reception from our brave fellows atPensacola. He placed them in my hand, and I quietly rose to bid himgood-night, and good-bye. I would not have ventured upon anything morethan a formal word of parting, for I had the consciousness of havingdone much to forfeit his regard. But the old man came over and put hisarms about me as he might a beloved son.

  "Placide," he said, "it grieves me to the soul for you to leave me. Ilove you, boy, as I do my own flesh. You have served me truly, alwayswith affection and honor. I respect your silence now, and ask you forno confidences not your own. Serigny has told me how faithful you werein Paris, and what he heard from others of your interview with theKing. Placide, my lad, even now it fires my blood to think of a boy ofmine standing before the mighty Louis, surrounded by our enemies, anddaring to tell the truth. It was glorious, glorious, and it saved yourGovernor. I had minded me in an idle day to hear it all from your ownlips. Perhaps, some day, who knows, it may yet come. You will losenot an hour in leaving Biloxi, and I have your word to engage in noencounter?"

  "Aye, sire, you have my word."

  "Good-by, Placide."

  I had dropped upon my knee, and, taking his hand, kissed it gently. Heturned back into his room, shut the door, and left me alone in thehall. I walked thence straightway to my own quarters, put on hastilythe garb of the forest and made all readiness. My toilet was notelaborate, and a short half hour found me completely equipped for thejourney.

  Leaving Biloxi, unaccompanied, like a thief in the night, I set out,and having reached the Bay winded a horn until Pachaco heard, then satme down to wait for his boat.