The trap-door closed, the firewood was carried back again, and Guy went
upstairs, where he found that Dame Margaret, Agnes, and Charlie had
already put on their disguises. Their faces had been slightly darkened;
Agnes had coiled her hair up under a cap, while Dame Margaret's would be
completely hidden under the hood. She and Charlie could, have passed very
well even in daylight, but Agnes by no means looked her character. Her
mother had darkened the skin at the back of her neck as well as on her
face, but the girl's evident discomfort and shyness were so unboylike that
they would at once be noticed. Guy fetched a short cloak reaching only to
his hips from his room and brought it in to her.
"I think that you will be more comfortable in this," he said.
"Yes, indeed," she exclaimed gratefully, as she put it over her shoulders;
"I shall not mind now."
It reached nearly down to her knees, and the high collar concealed the
back of her head effectually.
"I did not expect that you would be ready so soon," he said, turning to
Dame Margaret; "it will not be dark for two hours yet."
"No; but I thought it much better to be prepared to leave at any moment.
Mistress Leroux has shown me a door opening from the yard into a very
narrow lane behind. She says that it has not been used for years, but she
has been down herself with the key and has unlocked it, so that we have
only to let a bar down to open it, and if there should be an attack on the
front of the house we can escape that way."
"It would be best to leave that way in any case," Guy said, "and thereby
you will avoid observation by anyone who may be watching. It is evident
that the citizens of this quarter are very anxious and alarmed; looking
from the window I have seen them standing in groups, or going in and out
of each other's houses. They cannot know what is going to take place, but
the closing of the gates by the butchers without any warrant has, of
course, shown them that something serious is going to occur."
"You had better disguise yourself at once, Guy."
"I will do so, mistress, but I do not think that there is any fear of
disturbance until evening; men who are engaged in work, that may some day
bring punishment upon those concerned in it, prefer darkness. Besides, at
that time all careful men will be in their houses, and will not dare to
come out whatever sounds they may hear."
Maître Leroux presently came up.
"I have been out and trying to gather news. There are all sorts of rumours
abroad, but none know aught with certainty. They say that the butchers
have stationed guards at the end of all the streets leading to the market
quarter, and they allow none to pass in or out. It is reported that
Aquitaine has sent an officer to the butchers to demand under what warrant
they have closed the gates of the city, and to order them to open them
forthwith, and to withdraw the men stationed there. It is said that their
answer was that they had acted for the good of the state, and for the
safety of the king's person, and that they would presently call upon his
highness and explain matters to him. This may be true or merely rumour,
but it is generally believed. Everyone is talking of the fight at the gate
of St. Denis. Some say that it was forced open by order of the Duke of
Burgundy, while others affirm that Caboche, and that mischievous varlet
John de Troyes, went in great haste to the duke when they received the
news, that he declared to them that he knew nothing whatever of the
affair, and that whatever was done was certainly done without his orders.
Most of my men have already left; it were better that they should go off
one by one than that they should move off together. 'Tis well that my wife
bethought her of that back entrance. It has never been used in my time,
for the lane is but three feet wide, and the houses beyond are of no very
good repute. I talked at one time of having it bricked up, and only
refrained from doing so from the thought that it might be useful on some
such occasion as this. Your esquire has not gone out, I suppose, Lady
Margaret?"
"No, he is putting on his disguise--at least, he is colouring his hair and
face, and so altering himself that he would not be known; but he will not
put on his full disguise until later."
Guy soon came out. He was in his ordinary garments, but having put on his
best suit beneath them he looked broader and bulkier than usual, while his
blackened hair and darkened face had made so great a change in his
appearance that both Agnes and her mother agreed that they would not have
known him.
"You could certainly go anywhere, Guy, and mix with any crowd, and no one
would have a suspicion that you were the young Englishman for whom the
whole town was searching."
Half an hour before it became dark, Guy went down to the front door.
Standing there listening attentively, he presently heard three little
knocks given, as by a hand on the door. He opened it a little, Katarina
slipped in, and he again fastened it and put up the bar.
"I brought the disguises early," she said, "as I thought they might be
required in haste, but my father has learned that it will be eight o'clock
before the butchers sally out with their forces from the markets."
"All here are ready and prepared to start at a moment's notice, and have
arranged to go out by a door behind, that leads into a narrow lane."
"That is good!" the girl said. "I have been near for the last half-hour
and have noticed two or three men hanging about, and by their furtive
glances in the direction of the house I have no doubt that they are
watching it. I had to wait until there happened to be a group of people
before the door, and then slipped in behind them, and got in without, I am
sure, their having seen me. I have been uneasy as to how we should leave,
for if they saw a party of three or four issuing out together, one of them
would be sure to follow."
They were now upstairs. The fact that Agnes was in the same disguise as
herself freed Katarina from the shame-facedness that she would otherwise
have felt at being seen by Dame Margaret in her present attire.
"You are well disguised," the latter said as she entered. "I no longer
wonder that you are able to go about as a boy without suspicion; you look
one to the life, while Agnes is so awkward that she would be detected in a
moment."
"She has not had the practice that I have had," Katarina said with a
laugh; "the awkwardness will soon wear off if she has to dress like this
for a short time. As for me, I have learnt all a boy's tricks and ways. I
can whistle and shout with any of them, can quarrel, and bluster, be saucy
on occasion, and have only once been in trouble."
"How was that, Katarina?"
"A boy who was a bit taller than I ran against me and declared that it was
my fault, and gave me a cuff on the head. I might have run away, and of
course I ought to have done so, but I was angry, for he really hurt me; so
I had to do what any boy would have done, and I flew at him so fiercely,
and cuffed and scratched and kicked so savagely that at last he turned and
ran. He had hit me too, but I did not feel it at the time, and next
morning I was all sorts of colours round the eyes. Father was very angry,
but when I asked what else he would have done if he had been cuffed, he
could not tell me. I had a very important message to carry that morning
for him. At first he said I could not go out in that state; but, as I told
him, I had never looked so much like a boy before."
All were glad when it became dark enough for them to make a start. The men
and maids had all been sent away, and none remained save Maître Leroux and
his wife. They were not in any disguise, but were wrapped up in cloaks,
and in the badly-lighted streets could pass unrecognized.
"Do you go out first, Master Aylmer," the silversmith said. "I have no
fear of anyone watching behind, for it is not likely that any of them know
of this entrance to my house; still, it is as well to make certain. When
you get out of the lane you had best stay there until the others have
passed on, then you can follow them. We will wait for a few minutes after
they have gone, and lock the door behind us. You have not forgotten where
you are to find us."
"No, I have the name and house right. Shall I ask for you as Maître
Leroux?"
"I have not thought of that. No, it will be better, perhaps, to ask for
Philip Sampson; it were just as well that none should know my name there
except Lepelletiere and his wife."
As arranged Guy went out first; there was still light enough for him to
make his way along the narrow lane without falling over piles of dirt and
rubbish that at some points almost blocked it. The street into which it
opened was also a very narrow one, and no one was about. In a minute Dame
Margaret, walking with Katarina, and with Agnes close behind, holding
Charlie's hand, passed him.
"It is all quite clear," he said. Keeping some fifteen yards behind he
followed them until they entered a broader street. There were a good many
people about here. The nearest way would have been to have crossed the
road and passed by another small street facing that from which they had
come, but somewhat to his surprise they turned and went along the broader
street. He soon acknowledged to himself that this was the wiser course,
for there were so many people about that their passage would be unnoticed,
while in the narrow lanes some rough fellow might have accosted them.
Keeping always in frequented streets they made a long detour before they
reached that in which the count resided, and it was with a feeling of
great relief that Guy saw them enter the house. He himself, as arranged,
did not approach it for another quarter of an hour, then he went and
knocked on the door with his hand, which was at once opened by Katarina.
"All is well," she said; "your lady is in the room where you first
waited--my father is with her."
As Guy entered the count was just saying: "Yes, it would certainly be
best, madame, that your daughter should continue at present in that
disguise. In the first place, she will get accustomed to it, and should
she have occasion to move again she would be able to do so without
attracting notice; in the second place, it would be desirable that, even
accidentally, no one should know that there is a young lady of her age
here. I have no visitors save on business, but possibly either she or your
boy might come out on to the stairs when one is going up or down. It would
be unfortunate that he should see them at all, but if it were but a boy he
caught sight of he would not at any rate associate them with your party.
These precautions may seem to you absurd, but it is often by little
accidents that things are discovered when as it seemed everything had been
provided against."
"I shall not mind," Agnes said. "When I first went out it seemed dreadful,
but when I found that nobody noticed me I began to be accustomed to it,
and as your daughter is dressed as a boy too I shall not mind it."
"I shall not like being dressed as a girl," Charlie said sturdily.
The count smiled. "Well, we will see what we can do in your case; anyhow,
you must keep on that dress--for a day or two. And now, Guy, about
yourself. I have arranged for you to lodge with a man who gets news for
me; it is in the butchers' quarter, which is the last place where anyone
would think of looking for you. Besides, there you will see all that is
going on. I have two other disguises in addition to that I sent you; one
is that of a young butcher, another is that of one of the lads who live in
misery, who sleep at the market where they can earn a few sous by doing
odd jobs, and beg or steal when they can do nothing else. I hear that you
have also arranged for a shelter in the quarter between the walls; that
too may be very useful, and it will be well for you to go thither to-morrow and arrange so that you can have a place to go to when you choose;
it will doubtless be much more pleasant for you there than in the market
quarter. Lastly, I have got you a white hood, which may be most useful of
all." Guy looked surprised. "Henceforth," the count went on, "white is to
be the butchers' colour. All who march this evening are to be so clad, and
as soon as it is known to-morrow, you will find three-fourths of the
people wearing it, for not to do so will be taken as a sign of hostility
to their faction. They will have started by this time, and if it pleases
you to put on the butcher's dress and the white hood over it you can
mingle in safety with them and see all that is done; then when they return
to their quarter, you can go with them. The house to which you are to go
is the third on the left-hand side of the Rue des Couteaux. My man lodges
at the top of the house, the room to the left when you mount the stair--his name is Simon Bouclier. The lane is at the back of the butchers'
market. The man has no idea who you are. I have simply told him that I
will send a young man to help gather news for me of what is going on, that
you would work separately, but that he was to do all in his power to aid
you, and that at any time if he wanted to send a message to me and could
not himself come, he was to intrust it to you, and similarly he was to
bring any message that you might want to send to the spot where he meets
my messenger. The man works for one of the Thiberts. He does not know who
I am, but I think he believes me to be an agent of Burgundy's, and that I
collect the information so that he may be privately informed of what is
doing. I have encouraged that idea, because it is more likely to keep him
truthful to me, since he would think that were he to play me false the
duke would see that some harm or other befell him. Therefore, it is as
well that you should drop a word as if by accident that will confirm that
notion, and will lead him to believe that you too are working under the
orders of the duke. This will lull any suspicion that he might feel on
seeing, as he must do, that you live in a position far higher than would
appear from your garb. And now, if you would see to-night's doings, you
had best put on that disguise and the white hood, and be off without
delay; you will find the things in the room above."
In a few minutes Guy was ready to start. He could not help looking with
disfavour at the greasy and stained garments, and he put them on with an
expression of strong disgust. The two suits that he had taken off he made
up into a bundle, placed the disguise he had brought with him with them,
putting up separately that of which the count had spoken, and which was so
ragged and dirty that he inwardly hoped he might never be obliged to
assume it; then he went downstairs again. He had strapped round his waist
a heavy sword placed beside the clothes, and carried in his hand a short
pike. Dame Margaret smiled when he entered, and Katarina laughed aloud at
the expression of his face.
"Truly, Guy," the former said, "you might go anywhere in that garb without
a soul suspecting you. This journey with me is leading you into strange
disguises and adventures, which will give you much matter for talk when we
are safely back at Summerley."
"I have left my other disguises above," he said to the count. "The decent
one of an apprentice I have placed with my own clothes, and will take them
with me to any lodging that I may get among the carpenters, but that
beggar suit I will take to Simon Bouclier's the next time I come. I
suppose you would not wish me to come here during the day."
"No, unless it is very important; and to that end I think you had better
carry the apprentice's disguise also to your lodging in the market. You
would not gain favour among the carpenters were you to go among them in
the dress you now wear, and your calling upon me here in your apprentice's
dress would excite no attention; therefore, if you have need to come here
during the day, you had best come as an apprentice."
Guy now went down into the street through which the butchers' force would
pass. In a short time he heard a deep dull sound, and soon they came
along, a host of armed men.
He fell in unnoticed near the head of the column. Soon after he had joined
them they halted, and three or four knights came up and entered into
conversation with their leaders. Guy recognized among them Sir Robert de
Mailly, Sir Charles de Lens, and several others of the household of the
Duke of Burgundy. These talked for some time with the Sieur de
Jacqueville, Governor of Paris, who had joined the butchers' faction and
was now riding at the head of the column, whereupon the force went no
farther, but turned and retraced its steps. Guy wondered greatly where the
butchers could be going, but soon found that they were making for the
Bastille. After much parley between De Jacqueville and the governor, the
latter consented, on the order of the Duke of Burgundy's friends, to hand
over to them Sir Peter des Essars and his brother Sir Anthony, who were
both supporters of the Orleanists and had come to Paris secretly, and had
by the orders of the Duke of Aquitaine been admitted as guests to the
Bastille.
These were marched back to the Louvre, the gates of which were opened by
the orders of Burgundy's friends, and the two knights were thrown into the
prison of the palace. On the way back the houses of a very rich
upholsterer and of a cannon-founder of great repute, both of whom had
withstood the butchers, were broken into and their owners both murdered.
After this the mob marched to the house of Maître Leroux. No reply being
given to their summons to open, an attack was made upon the door. While
they were engaged in doing this, screens of wattles covered with two or
three thicknesses of hides were placed so as to shelter the assailants
from the arrows that had proved so deadly on the occasion of their last
attack. It was thus evident that the outrage was a planned one. Guy looked
on with some amusement until the door gave way under the action of some
very heavy sledge-hammers wielded by a party of brawny smiths; the moment
it did so the crowd made a tremendous rush.
So great was the pressure that many were thrown down and trampled to death
in the doorway. It was not long before several of the windows were thrown
open and voices shouted down that the house was deserted. A yell of fury
burst from the crowd below, but the pressure at the door was even greater
than before. The loss incurred during the first attack had caused all but
the bravest and most determined to hang back somewhat; now, however, that
it seemed that the silversmith's stores could be ransacked without danger,
all were anxious to have a hand in it. Presently one of the leaders
appeared at a casement on the first floor and waved his arms for silence.
The roar of voices ceased and the man cried:
"Citizens, 'tis of no use to press forward into the house, not only has
the traitor and those with him fled from the just vengeance of the people,
but he has taken away with him the whole of his silverware."
A yell of disappointment and rage rose, then as it ceased for a moment a
voice shouted out:
"They are trying to cheat us, my friends; those who got in first have
divided up the spoil and wish us to have no share in it."
This caused a fresh outburst of commotion. At a signal from the leader
above a number of well-armed men, who were evidently a sort of body-guard,
pressed forward to the door and drove back the crowd with blows from the
staves of their pikes. Presently those who had entered began to pour out,
and in a quarter of an hour the house was cleared. As soon as it was so
the windows were lit up by a lurid light which showed that it had been
fired on each floor, and the flames very soon burst out through the
casements. Satisfied with having done this the butchers returned to their
quarter, and Guy mounted to the chamber of Simon Bouclier. The man had
evidently just returned, as he too wore a white hood. He had been carrying
a torch in the procession, and this was stuck into a ring on the wall.
[Illustration: "WELL, COMRADE," SAID SIMON, "I SUPPOSE YOU ARE THE MAN I
WAS TOLD WOULD COME TO-NIGHT?"]
"Well, comrade," he said as Guy entered, "I suppose you are the man I was
told would come here to-night."
"I am so," Guy said. "I should have been here before, but I joined the
procession, as I guessed that you would be there also."
"Yes," the man said; "though I should not have gone had I not thought that
more would come of it. What have we done? Captured two knights and killed
two bourgeois! Pooh, it did not need five thousand men for that."
"No, but it was just as important as if we had killed a hundred."
"How so?" the other asked.
"Because it has shown the Armagnacs that Paris and Burgundy are as united
as ever, and that they will stand no intrigues by the court party."
"That is true. We are all sound here; there were but five thousand out to-night, because that was enough for the work, but there will be four times
as many next time we go to the Louvre. To-morrow morning, you know, we are
going to pay a visit to the Duke of Aquitaine at his hotel, to teach that
young man that he has to do as we and Burgundy order him, or that it will
be worse for him."
"So I understand," Guy said carelessly. "As long as all hold together in
this quarter everything will go right. My duty principally is to find out
if there are any signs of wavering; there are no signs, of course, among
the butchers, but some of the others are thought to be but half-hearted."
"The butchers and skinners are all right, never fear," the man said; "and
if there are others in the quarter who may not be quite so hot in the
matter as we are, they know better than to open their mouths. Of course,
in the other quarters there may be a strong party who would thwart us; the
smiths and the carpenters and masons are ever jealous of us of the
markets, but they have no leaders, and hold not together as we do.
Besides, they know that we have Burgundy with us, so whatever they think
they are not likely to say much, for if it came to a battle we could sweep
them out of the city."
"Yes, yes, I know that there is no fear of that, the great thing is to
make sure that some of those who seem to be hottest in the matter, are not
taking money from the other party; there are one or two I am specially to
observe."
"I understand you, comrade. I myself have never had much confidence in
John de Troyes nor his medical students. He is good at talking, no one
will deny that; but for myself I would rather that we kept among ourselves
and had nothing to do with such cattle, who have no interest in the
privileges of the guilds, and who take part with us no one knows why. But
I am sleepy; that bundle of fresh rushes in the corner is yours, I got
them in the hay-market to-day when I heard that you were coming. You can
keep beside me to-morrow morning and I will get you a good place in the
ranks. From whence shall I say that you come, as many will ask the
question, seeing that your face is strange?"
"You can say I am from Nancy."
"Yes, that will be good enough; that is the right quarter of France for a
man to have come from just at present."
Guy was thoroughly fatigued with the long excitement of the day. At eleven
in the morning everything had been going on as usual, now Dame Margaret
and the two children were in hiding, her four men-at-arms fugitives, and
Paris was virtually in a state of insurrection against the royal
authority, stirred up thereto by the Duke of Burgundy, who had thus openly
leagued himself with the scum of Paris. That what he had seen that evening
was but the beginning of a series of crimes, Guy could not doubt; and
although this man had expressed his confidence in the power of the market-men to sweep the craftsmen out of Paris, he felt sure from what he had
heard, that this could not be done until a fierce and doubtful battle had
been fought in the streets. At eight next morning he went out with his
companion.
"It is well not to go into a place where we shall meet many till your face
is better known," the latter said; and he led the way to a small
_trattoir_ a quarter of a mile away. Here they sat down and breakfasted,
then they returned to the market where the White Hoods were mustering.
Simon, who was evidently well known to most of the butchers, took his
place near the head of the column, and at nine o'clock it got into motion.
When it issued from its own quarters it was evident that its approach
excited general apprehension. The streets were deserted as it passed
along. None of the casements were opened, and although the traders dared
not put up their shutters, none of them appeared at the doors, where
their apprentices and workmen gathered to look at the procession. Passing
along steadily and in good order, and headed as before by the knights of
the Duke of Burgundy's household, they drew up before the palace of the
Duke of Aquitaine. Caboche, John de Troyes, and one of the butchers
entered the house. The guards having no orders, and seeing how strong was
the force that was at their back, did not venture to oppose their
entrance, and they pushed on into the private apartments of the duke and
informed him that they, on behalf of the good town of Paris and for the
welfare of his father and himself, required the delivery to them of
certain traitors now in the hotel.
The duke, furious at their insolence, told them that such affairs were not
their business, and that there were no traitors in the hotel. In the
meantime many of the White Hoods had followed their leaders, Simon and Guy
entering with them. They scattered through the apartments and seized the
duke's chancellor, the Duke of Bar, a cousin of the king, and twelve other
knights and gentlemen, some of whom were in the apartment of the Duke of
Aquitaine himself. While this was going on the Dukes of Burgundy and
Lorraine arrived, and Aquitaine, turning to the former angrily, said:
"Father-in-law, this insurrection has been caused by your advice; those of
your household are the leaders of it; you shall some day repent of this.
The state shall not be always governed according to your will and
pleasure."
However, in spite of his indignation and remonstrance, the twelve
gentlemen were carried away and confined in different prisons; and
presently discovering the king's secretary, they killed him and threw the
body into the river. They compelled the Duke of Aquitaine himself to leave
his palace, and with the king, his father, to take up his abode in the
Hôtel de St. Pol. Placing a strong guard round it, so as to prevent them
from leaving Paris, the mob then compelled all the nobles and even the
prelates, they met, to put on white hoods, and their leaders sent off
letters to the chief towns in France to inform them that what they had
done was for the welfare of the king and kingdom, and requiring them to
give aid should there be any necessity for it; they then published an
edict in the name of the king ordering that it should be proclaimed in
every bailiwick that no person, under penalty of death and confiscation of
goods, should obey any summons from their superior lord to take up arms or
to trouble the kingdom. The mad king was made to sign this after the Dukes
of Aquitaine, Berri, and Lorraine, and other nobles of the council had put
their names to it.
At nine o'clock that evening Guy went to the square before Notre Dame.
Here many groups of people were talking over the events of the day. Guy
had, as soon as he left the market quarter, taken off his white hood, and
before starting he put on his dress as an apprentice. There was no doubt
that the opinion of the great majority of those in the square was hostile
to the authors of the events of the day, and that the consternation among
the citizens was very great. After thus forcing the great nobles to obey
their will and outraging the palace of the Duke of Aquitaine, there was no
saying to what length they would go, and fears were expressed that ere
long they might sack the whole of the better quarters of Paris.
It was so evident, however, that they had the support of the Duke of
Burgundy that no one saw any way out of their trouble, and that nothing
but the arrival of a powerful army of Orleanists could relieve them from
their peril. As Guy had no real expectation of seeing any of his
followers,--although the gates had been opened that afternoon after the
seizure of the knights,--he attended more to the conversations going on
about him than to the matter on which he had come. Presently, however, he
saw a rough-looking fellow watching him attentively. He walked close to
him, but not recognizing him would have passed on, had not the man taken a
step forward and said in a low voice:
"Villeroy!"
"Is it you, Robert? In faith I did not recognize you in that attire."
"And I was not sure that it was you, Master Guy; I should certainly not
have known you by your face. Your figure and walk, when a short distance
away, attracted my attention, and knowing your disguise was that of an
apprentice I made sure it was you. Then as you came closer I doubted, and
though I ventured upon saying the name of our lord, I scarce thought that
you would reply."
"Where are the others, Robert?"
"They are walking about separately seeking for you. We are to meet on the
steps of the cathedral at half-past nine."
"What has become of Tom?"
The man laughed. "If you will come along this way, master, you will see."
They went to a quiet corner of the square. As they approached it they
heard angry voices, and standing under a lamp Guy saw a tall man of wild
and unkempt appearance, with black hair and a begrimed face, and a basket
of vegetables strapped to his shoulders, threatening angrily with a staff
three or four gamins who were making fun of him. He spoke in a wild,
incoherent way, and seemed to be half-witted.
"What are you worrying this poor fellow for?" Robert said angrily to the
boys. "If you do not be off, and that quickly, I will lay my cudgel about
your shoulders."
This threat was much more efficacious than those of the half-witted man
had been, and the boys at once took to their heels. The tall man shuffled
towards the new-comers.
"Is it really you, Tom?" Guy said in a low tone.
"It is me, sure enough, Master Guy. I should not know myself, and am not
surprised that you do not know me; in faith, my back aches with walking
with a stoop, and my legs with shuffling along as if I had scarce the use
of them, instead of stepping out manfully. Is all well? We have heard of
strange doings--that the butchers have, with the countenance of Burgundy,
bearded the Duke of Aquitaine, and even carried off some of his friends
from before his face; also that the houses of three of those who had
withstood them had been burned, among them that of Maître Leroux; also
that two traders had been killed, though which two they were we have not
been able to learn."
"All is well, Tom; our lady and her children were safely bestowed, as was
also the silversmith and his wife."
"I am right glad of that; they were a worthy couple. And so his house is
burned and sacked?"
"Burned, but not sacked, Tom; for he had, before they came, stowed away in
a hiding-place where they could not be found all those chests of his, and
not a single piece of silver fell into the hands of the butchers."
"That was well done," the archer said, rubbing his hands. "I should like
to have seen the dogs' faces when they burst in and found nothing. And my
bow, Master Guy?"
"I fear that the flames will not have spared it. I went past the house to-day, and naught but the bare walls are standing."
At this moment the bell of the cathedral struck the half-hour, and Robert
Picard said: "Will you stay here, Master Guy? I must go and meet the
others, and forthwith bring them to you here."