ARNAULD DU THILL IS STILL UP TO HIS LITTLE TRICKS
At first, pillage and slaughter were the order of the day; but Philibert
issued a very strict prohibition, and put a speedy end to the confusion;
and Admiral de Coligny having been taken before him, Philibert
complimented him in the highest terms.
"I cannot punish gallantry; and the town of St. Quentin will be treated
no more harshly than if she had capitulated the day that we sat down
before the walls."
And the victor, as high-minded as the vanquished, allowed the admiral to
discuss with him the conditions which should be imposed.
St. Quentin was naturally declared a Spanish town; but those of the
people who preferred not to accept the domination of the stranger were
at liberty to withdraw, giving, up all claim to their houses, however.
Moreover, everybody, soldiers and citizens, were free from that moment;
and Philibert retained only fifty prisoners of all ages and conditions
and both sexes, selected by him or his captains, for the purpose of
holding them to ransom, and thus procuring means wherewith to pay the
arrears due to the troops. The property and persons of all others were
to be respected; and Philibert gave his personal attention to the
prevention of disorder. However, as Coligny had exhausted all his
personal fortune in maintaining the siege, he was courteous enough to
ask no ransom for him. The admiral would be free the next day to join
his uncle, the Constable de Montmorency, at Paris, who had not found his
conquerors so disinterested after the battle of St. Laurent, but had
furnished ransom in a round sum, which France would eventually pay in
one way or another, no doubt; but Philibert Emmanuel considered it an
honor to become the friend of Gaspard, and did not choose to put a price
upon his freedom. His principal officers and the wealthiest citizens
would suffice to pay the expenses of the siege.
These terms, which were certainly more favorable than he had any right
to expect, were accepted submissively by Coligny, and by the citizens
with mingled sentiments of joy and fear. The important question to be
solved was, upon whom would the dreaded choice of Philibert Emmanuel and
his officers fall? That was what the next day would bring forth; and
when that day came, the proudest became very lowly, and the wealthiest
made a great deal of talk about their poverty.
Arnauld du Thill, who was a very expert and ingenious haggler, passed
the night thinking over matters, and finally hit upon a combination
which might, he thought, turn out very profitably for him. He arrayed
himself as handsomely as possible, and from an early hour in the morning
walked proudly up and down the streets, which were filled to overflowing
with the victorious besiegers of all nations,--German, English,
Spaniards, etc.
"What a Tower of Babel!" said Arnauld, anxiously, hearing nothing but
foreign jargon. "With the few English words that I know I shall never be
able to enter into negotiations with any of these jabberers. Some say,
'Carajo'!' others, 'Goddam!' and others still, 'Tausend saperment!' and
not one --"
"_Tripes et boyaux_! Will you halt, you villain?" shouted a harsh voice
behind Arnauld at this moment.
Arnauld turned hurriedly about toward the man, who, despite his very
marked English accent, seemed thus familiar with the niceties of the
French tongue.
He was a great fellow, with a pale face and sandy hair, who had the
appearance of being a sharp trader and a stupid man. Arnauld du Thill
recognized an Englishman at the first glance.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"I make you my prisoner; that's what you can do for me," replied the
man, who embellished his discourse with English slang, which Arnauld
tried hard to imitate, so as to make himself more intelligible to his
interlocutor.
"Why do you make me your prisoner rather than another?" he
continued?--"rather than that weaver over there, for instance?"
"Because you are fitted out better than the weaver," was the
Englishman's reply.
"Oh, yes!" Arnauld retorted. "And by what right, please, do you arrest
me?--you who are only a simple archer, I think."
"Oh, I am not acting on my own account, but in the name of my master,
Lord Grey, who commands the English archers, and to whom Duke Philibert
Emmanuel has allotted, as his share in the prize, three prisoners,--two
noblemen and one bourgeois,--with whatever ransom he may be able to get
for them. Now, my master, who knows that I have two hands and a pair of
eyes, instructed me to follow the chase and ferret out three prisoners
of value for him. You are the best game I have fallen in with yet; so I
take you by the collar, Messire Bourgeois."
"It is a great honor for a poor squire," retorted Arnauld, modestly.
"Will your master feed me well, do you think?"
"Blackguard! Do you suppose he proposes to feed you for long?" said the
archer.
"Until it pleases him to set me at liberty, I imagine that he surely
will not let me die of hunger."
"Hm!" said the archer. "Can it be that I have taken a poor old naked
wolf for a fox with a magnificent pelt?"
"I am afraid so, my lord archer," said Arnauld; "and if Lord Grey, your
master, has promised you a commission according to the value of the
prizes you obtain for him, I fear that twenty or thirty blows with a
club will be the only benefit you will derive from me. What I say is not
for the purpose of deceiving you, and I advise you to try it."
"You rascal! It may well be that you are right!" rejoined the
Englishman, examining the sly fellow more closely; "and I may lose with
you what Lord Grey promised to give me,--one livre in every hundred that
he realizes from his prisoners."
"This is the man for me," thought Arnauld. "Hallo, then," said he,
aloud, "my hostile friend, if I put you in a way to lay your hand on a
very rich prize,--on a prisoner worth ten thousand Tours livres, for
instance,--would you be the man to show some little gratitude to me?"
"Ten thousand Tours livres!" cried the Englishman. "Prisoners of that
sort are pretty scarce. Why, I should get a hundred livres then,--not a
bad nest-egg."
"Yes; but you would have to give fifty to the friend who put it in your
way. That's fair, is it not?"
"Oh, well, I'll do it," said Lord Grey's archer, after a momentary
hesitation. "But take me to the man at once, and give me his name."
"We need not go far to find him," Arnauld responded. "Just a few steps
this way! See, I don't wish to show myself with you on the square; let
me hide behind the corner of this house. There; now you go on. Do you
see on the balcony of that house a gentleman talking with a citizen?"
"I do," said the Briton. "Is that my man?"
"That is our man."
"His name?"
"Vicomte d'Exmès."
"Oh, indeed!" rejoined the archer. "So that is Vicomte d'Exmès. He is
very handsomely spoken of at the camp. Is he as wealthy as he is
gallant?"
"I will answer to you for that."
"Do you know him very well, then, Master?"
"_Pardieu_! I am his squire."
"Ah, Judas!" The archer could not restrain the exclamation.
"No," was Arnauld's unmoved comment; "for Judas was hanged, and I shall
not be."
"It may be that you will find it difficult to escape," said the archer,
who had his jocose moments.
"Well, we shall see," retorted Arnauld; "but no more talk. Do you hold
to our bargain,--yes or no?"
"It's done!" the Englishman replied; "and I will escort your master to
my lord. Afterward you shall point out to me another nobleman and some
substantial citizen, if you know any such."
"I know the right ones at the same price,--half of your commission."
"You shall have it, you emissary of the devil!"
"I am yours rather," said Arnauld. "But, come, no trickery! Between two
rascals each must be careful of his footing. Besides, I should find you
again sure. Will your master pay cash?"
"Cash in advance; you shall come with us to my lord upon the pretext of
accompanying your viscount; I shall get my pay, and will give you your
share at once. But you in return, being very grateful, as you should be,
will help me to find my second and third prizes, won't you?"
"We'll see about that," said Arnauld. "Let us attend to the first one
now."
"That's a very short matter," said the archer. "Your master is too rough
in time of war not to be mild and gentle in time of peace; we know that.
Take two minutes' start of me, and take up your station behind him; you
will see that I know my business."
Arnauld left his worthy pupil, entered the town-hall, and with a smile
on his false face went into the room where Gabriel was talking with Jean
Peuquoy, and asked him if he had need of him. He was still speaking when
the archer came in with an apologetic air. He went straight up to the
viscount, who looked at him with much amazement, and bowing low,--
"Have I the honor of speaking to Monseigneur le Vicomte d'Exmès?" he
asked with such a look as every merchant has for his merchandise.
"I am Vicomte d'Exmès," Gabriel replied with increasing wonder; "what
do you want with me?"
"Your sword, Monseigneur," said the archer, bowing almost to the floor.
"You!" exclaimed Gabriel, recoiling from him with a motion of
inexpressible contempt.
"In the name of my master, Lord Grey, Monseigneur," replied the modest
archer, "you are named as one of the fifty prisoners whom Monseigneur
l'Amiral is to put in the hands of the victors. Don't blame poor me for
being forced to be the bearer of this unpleasant information."
"Blame you for it!" said Gabriel, "no! But Lord Grey, a gentleman,
forsooth! might have taken the trouble to ask me for my sword himself.
It is to him that I desire to hand it; do you understand?"
"As Monseigneur pleases."
"And I am glad to believe that he will accept a ransom for me?"
"Oh, never fear, never fear, Monseigneur!" said the archer, eagerly.
"I am at your service, then," said Gabriel.
"But this is an indignity," cried Jean Peuquoy. "You do wrong to submit
thus, Monseigneur. Refuse to go; for you are not of St. Quentin,--you
are not of the town!"
"Master Jean Peuquoy is right," Arnauld du Thill earnestly interposed,
stealthily making a sign to the archer to denounce the citizen to him.
"Yes, Master Jean Peuquoy has put his finger upon the truth: Monseigneur
is not of St. Quentin; and Master Jean Peuquoy knows it. Yes, indeed, he
knows the whole town! He has been burgher for forty years, and syndic of
his guild, and captain of the bowmen! What have you to say to that,
Englishman?"
"I have just this to say," replied the Briton, who had taken his
cue,--"that if this is Master Jean Peuquoy, I have an order to arrest
him too, for his name is on my list."
"Me!" ejaculated the worthy burgher.
"Even you, Master," was the response.
Peuquoy looked inquiringly at Gabriel.
"Alas, Messire Jean," said Vicomte d'Exmès, sighing in spite of
himself, "I think that our best plan, after having done our duty as
soldiers during the battle, will be to bow to the rights of the victors,
now that the battle is done. Let us submit, Master Jean Peuquoy."
"And go with this fellow?" asked Peuquoy.
"To be sure, my good friend; and glad am I in this latest trial not to
be separated from you."
"That is very true, Monseigneur," said Peuquoy, with emotion; "and you
are very kind to say it. Besides, when such a noble and gallant captain
as yourself accepts his lot with equanimity, ought an unfortunate
burgher like myself to complain? Let us go. Varlet," he went on,
addressing the archer, "it is done; and I am your prisoner or your
master's."
"Remember that you are going with me to Lord Grey's quarters," rejoined
the archer, "where you will remain, if you please, until you have
furnished a handsome ransom."
"Where I will remain forever, son of the evil one!" cried Jean Peuquoy.
"Your English master shall never know the color of my crowns; I will die
first. If he is a Christian, he will have to support me until my last
hour; and I forewarn you that I am a very hearty eater."
The archer cast a terrified glance in the direction of Arnauld du Thill;
but the latter reassured him with a nod, and pointed to Gabriel, who was
laughing at his friend's outburst. The Englishman knew how to take a
joke, and began to laugh heartily.
"As to that, Monseigneur," said he, "and you, Messire, I am going to
take--"
"You are going to precede us to Lord Grey's quarters," Gabriel
interrupted haughtily; "and we will arrange details with your master."
"As Monseigneur pleases," said the archer, with humility.
Walking in front of them, but taking good care to keep an eye on them,
he escorted the gentleman and the burgher to Lord Grey's quarters, while
Arnauld du Thill followed at some distance.
Lord Grey was a dull-witted, phlegmatic soldier, bored to death, and
himself a bore, for whom war was mere trafficking, and who was in a very
bad humor at receiving no pay for himself and his troops except such as
he might get from the ransom of three unfortunate prisoners. He received
Gabriel and Jean Peuquoy with cold dignity.
"So it is Vicomte d'Exmès whom I have the honor to have for my
prisoner," said he, looking at Gabriel with curiosity. "You have given
us a good deal of trouble, Monsieur; and if I were to demand for your
ransom all that you have cost King Philip II., I fancy that King Henri's
France could hardly pay it."
"I did my best," said Gabriel, simply.
"Your best is very good; and I congratulate you!" retorted Lord Grey.
"But that is not the question now. The chances of war, although you did
wonders to prevent it, have put you in my power, you and your mighty
sword. Oh, keep it, Monsieur, keep it," he added, as he saw that Gabriel
made a movement as if to hand it to him. "But what can you offer to
redeem my right to your service? Let us arrange that matter. I am well
aware that gallantry and wealth do not always go together, unluckily.
However, I cannot afford to forego my right entirely. Would five
thousand crowns seem a fitting price for you to pay for your liberty?"
"No, my Lord," said Gabriel.
"No? You think it too much?" rejoined Lord Grey. "Ah, but this accursed
war! And such a poor country! Come, four thousand crowns is not too
much, by Heaven!"
"It is not enough, my Lord," replied Gabriel, coolly.
"What, Monsieur! what did you say?" cried the Englishman.
"I say," Gabriel replied, "that you misunderstood my words, my Lord. You
asked me if five thousand crowns seemed to me a reasonable ransom, and I
said no; for in my own opinion I am worth twice that, my Lord."
"Very well!" rejoined Lord Grey; "and in truth, your king may very well
spare that amount to retain such a gallant soldier as you."
"I trust I shall not be obliged to call upon the king," said Gabriel;
"for my private fortune, I am sure, will enable me to meet this
unforeseen expenditure, and to deal directly with you in this matter."
"So much the better!" said Lord Grey, somewhat surprised. "That makes
ten thousand crowns that you are to account to me for, then; and I beg
your pardon, but when may I expect the payment?"
"You will readily understand," said Gabriel, "that I brought no such sum
with me to a besieged town; on the other hand, the resources of Monsieur
de Coligny and his friends, I believe, like my own, have run pretty low,
therefore I do not wish to trouble them by requesting a loan. But if you
will allow me a little time, I can send for it from Paris--"
"Very well!" said Lord Grey; "meanwhile I will content myself with your
word, which is as good as gold. But as business is business, and as a
certain misunderstanding that exists between my soldiers and the
Spaniards may oblige me to return to England, you will not take it ill
if I keep you in custody until the full quittance of the sum agreed
upon,--not in this Spanish town of St. Quentin, which I am on the point
of leaving, but at Calais, which is in English hands, and of which my
brother-in-law, Lord Wentworth, is governor. Does that arrangement meet
your views?"
"To admiration!" said Gabriel, on whose pale lips a bitter smile
appeared. "I only ask your leave to send my squire to Paris to procure
the gold, so that neither my captivity nor your confidence may be
protracted any further than is necessary."
"Nothing could be more reasonable," Lord Grey replied; "and pending the
return of your emissary, be assured that you will be treated by my
brother-in-law with all the consideration that is due you. You will have
all possible freedom at Calais, the more so because it is a strong
fortified town; and Lord Wentworth will take good care of you, for he is
more addicted to feasting and debauchery than he ought to be. But that
is his own affair; fortunately his wife, who was my sister, is dead. I
only wished to tell you that you would not be likely to be bored."
Gabriel bowed without replying.
"And now, Master," resumed Lord Grey, turning to Jean Peuquoy, who had
shrugged his shoulders in wonder more than once during the foregoing
scene,--"now for you. You are, I see, the burgher who has been allotted
to me with two gentlemen."
"I am Jean Peuquoy, my Lord."
"Well, Jean Peuquoy, what ransom may we ask for you?"
"Oh, I am going to dicker with you, Monseigneur! Trader against trader,
as they say. Oh, you may knit your brows! I am not proud, my Lord, and
in my own opinion I am not worth ten livres."
"Nonsense!" said Lord Grey, scornfully. "You shall pay a hundred livres;
that is hardly as much as I promised the archer who brought you here."
"A hundred livres! So be it, my Lord, if you value me so high," retorted
the shrewd captain of the bowmen. "But you don't want a hundred livres
cash, do you?"
"What! Haven't you that petty sum, even?"
"I had it, my Lord," said Peuquoy, "but I gave it all to the poor and
the wounded during the siege."
"But you have friends, surely, or kinsmen?"
"Friends? Ah, we mustn't rely too much upon friends, my Lord. And
kinsmen? No, I have none: my wife died childless, and I have no brother;
only a cousin--"
"Well, and this cousin?" asked Lord Grey, with some signs of losing
patience.
"This cousin, my Lord, who will undoubtedly pay the sum you ask of me,
happens to live at Calais."
"Ah, indeed!" said Lord Grey, suspiciously.
"_Mon Dieu_! yes, my Lord," added Jean Peuquoy, with every appearance of
absolute sincerity; "my cousin's name is Pierre Peuquoy, and he has been
for more than thirty years a gunsmith at the sign of the God Mars, Rue
du Martroi."
"And he is devoted to you, is he?" asked Lord Grey.
"I believe him to be, my Lord! I am the last of the Peuquoys of my
branch; so that it goes without saying that his feeling for me amounts
to veneration. More than two centuries ago, one of our ancestral
Peuquoys had two sons, one of whom became a weaver and settled at St.
Quentin, while the other adopted the armorer's trade, and took up his
abode at Calais. Ever since that time the St. Quentin Peuquoys have been
weavers, and the Calais Peuquoys have continued to forge arms and armor.
But although separated, distance has never cooled their mutual
affection; and they have always assisted each other, as occasion arose,
and as befits those bound together by ties of blood, and descendants of
the same ancestor. I am sure that Pierre will loan me the sum necessary
to redeem my freedom; nevertheless, I have not seen this good cousin of
mine for ten years,--for you English are by no means free with your
permission to us Frenchmen to enter your strong towns."
"Yes, yes," said Lord Grey, pleasantly, "for more than two hundred and
ten years the Calais Peuquoys have been Englishmen."
"Oh!" cried Jean, warmly, "the Peuquoys--"
Then he suddenly interrupted himself.
"Well, well," Lord Grey rejoined in surprise, "the Peuquoys--"
"The Peuquoys, my Lord," said Jean, twirling his cap about in an
embarrassed way,--"the Peuquoys do not concern themselves with politics,
that is what I was about to say. Whether they are English or French, so
long as they possess an anvil with which to earn their daily bread at
Calais, and a shuttle here in St. Quentin, the Peuquoys have no fault to
find."
"Well, who knows?" said Lord Grey, jocosely; "perhaps you will set up
for yourself as a weaver in Calais, and thus become a subject of Queen
Mary. Then the Peuquoys will be united at last after so many years."
"Upon my word! that may very well be," said Jean, artlessly.
Gabriel could not conceal his surprise at hearing the gallant burgher,
who had taken such an heroic part in the defence of his town, talk as
calmly about becoming an Englishman as of changing his helmet; but a
wink which Jean Peuquoy bestowed upon him while Lord Grey was looking
the other way reassured Gabriel as to his friend's loyalty, and
convinced him that some mystery lay hidden under his joking.
Lord Grey soon dismissed them both.
"To-morrow we will leave St. Quentin for Calais together," he said.
"Meanwhile you are at liberty to make such preparations as you choose,
and to take your leave of your friends. I allow you to go on your parole
so much the more readily," said he, with his peculiar delicacy, "because
you will be challenged at the gates, and no one is allowed to leave the
town without a permit from the governor."
Gabriel saluted Lord Grey without a word, and left the house with Jean
Peuquoy, without noticing that his squire, Martin-Guerre, remained
behind instead of following him.
"What is your intention, my friend?" he said to Peuquoy, when they were
in the street. "Is it possible that you haven't a hundred crowns to pay
your ransom with at once? Why do you persist in making this journey to
Calais? Does this armorer cousin really exist? What strange object have
you in all this?"
"Hush!" replied Jean Peuquoy, mysteriously. "In this Spanish atmosphere
I hardly dare to risk a word. You can rely upon your squire,
Martin-Guerre, can you not?"
"I will answer for him," Gabriel answered; "notwithstanding some lapses
of memory and occasional backsliding, his is the most faithful heart in
the world."
"Good!" said Peuquoy. "We must not send him at once from here, to obtain
the money for your ransom at Paris, but take him to Calais with us, and
let him start from there. We cannot have too many pairs of eyes."
"But what do these precautions mean, pray?" asked Gabriel. "I see: you
have no relative at all in Calais?"
"Indeed I have," replied Peuquoy, eagerly. "Pierre Peuquoy really
exists, and just as really has he been brought up to love and sigh for
his former country, France; and like me, he stands ready to strike a
blow in case of need, if you should chance to conceive while in that
city some such heroic plan as you have put in execution here so many
times."
"My noble friend," Gabriel responded, pressing the burgher's hand, "I
divine your meaning; but you estimate my abilities too high, and judge
me by your own measure. You know not how much selfishness there is in
what you call my heroism; nor do you know that in the future, a sacred
duty--even more sacred, if that can be, than my country's glory--has the
first and only claim upon me."
"Well, then," said Jean Peuquoy, "you will fulfil that duty as you have
all your other duties! And among the others," he added, lowering his
voice, "there may be an opportunity afforded which will call upon you to
take your revenge at Calais for St. Quentin."