Either the small respect I had paid M. de Bruhl, or the words I had let
fall respecting the possible disappearance of M. Villequier, had had so
admirable an effect on the Provost-Marshal’s mind that from the
moment of leaving my lodgings he treated me with the utmost civility;
permitting me even to retain my sword, and assigning me a sleeping-place
for the night in his own apartments at the gate-house.
Late as it was, I could not allow so much politeness to pass
unacknowledged. I begged leave, therefore, to distribute a small
gratuity among his attendants, and requested him to do me the honour of
drinking a bottle of wine with me. This being speedily procured, at such
an expense as is usual in these places, where prisoners pay, according
as they are rich or poor, in purse or person, kept us sitting for an
hour, and finally sent us to our pallets perfectly satisfied with one
another.
The events of the day, however, and particularly one matter, on which I
have not dwelt at length, proved as effectual to prevent my sleeping as
if I had been placed in the dampest cell below the castle. So much had
been crowded into a time so short that it seemed as if I had had until
now no opportunity of considering whither I was being hurried, or what
fortune awaited me at the end of this turmoil. From the first
appearance of M. d’Agen in the morning, with the startling news that the
Provost-Marshal was seeking me, to my final surrender and encounter with
Bruhl on the stairs, the chain of events had run out so swiftly that I
had scarcely had time at any particular period to consider how I stood,
or the full import of the latest check or victory. Now that I had
leisure I lived the day over again, and, recalling its dangers and
disappointments, felt thankful that all had ended so fairly.
I had the most perfect confidence in Maignan, and did not doubt that
Bruhl would soon weary, if he had not already wearied, of a profitless
siege. In an hour at most--and it was not yet midnight--the king would
be free to go home; and with that would end, as far as he was concerned,
the mission with which M. de Rosny had honoured me. The task of
communicating his Majesty’s decision to the King of Navarre would
doubtless be entrusted to M. de Rambouillet, or some person of similar
position and influence; and in the same hands would rest the honour and
responsibility of the treaty which, as we all know now, gave after a
brief interval and some bloodshed, and one great providence, a lasting
peace to France. But it must ever be--and I recognised this that
night with a bounding heart, which told of some store of youth yet
unexhausted--a matter of lasting pride to me that I, whose career but
now seemed closed in failure, had proved the means of conferring so
especial a benefit on my country and religion.
Remembering, however, the King of Navarre’s warning that I must not look
to him for reward, I felt greatly doubtful in what direction the scene
would next open to me; my main dependence being upon M. de Rosny’s
promise that he would make my fortune his own care. Tired of the Court
at Blois, and the atmosphere of intrigue and treachery which pervaded
it, and with which I hoped I had now done, I was still at a loss to
see how I could recross the Loire in face of the Vicomte de Turenne’s
enmity. I might have troubled myself much more with speculating upon
this point had I not found--in close connection with it--other and more
engrossing food for thought in the capricious behaviour of Mademoiselle
de la Vire.
To that behaviour it seemed to me that I now held the clue. I suspected
with as much surprise as pleasure that only one construction could be
placed upon it--a construction which had strongly occurred to me on
catching sight of her face when she intervened between me and the king.
Tracing the matter back to the moment of our meeting in the antechamber
at St. Jean d’Angely, I remembered the jest which Mathurine had uttered
at our joint expense. Doubtless it had dwelt in mademoiselle’s mind,
and exciting her animosity against me had prepared her to treat me with
contumely when, contrary to all probability, we met again, and she found
herself placed in a manner in my hands. It had inspired her harsh words
and harsher looks on our journey northwards, and contributed with her
native pride to the low opinion I had formed of her when I contrasted
her with my honoured mother.
But I began to think it possible that the jest had worked in another
way as well, by keeping me before her mind and impressing upon her the
idea--after my re-appearance at Chize more particularly--that our fates
were in some way linked. Assuming this, it was not hard to understand
her manner at Rosny when, apprised that I was no impostor, and
regretting her former treatment of me, she still recoiled from the
feelings which she began to recognise in her own breast. From that time,
and with this clue, I had no difficulty in tracing her motives, always
supposing that this suspicion, upon which I dwelt with feelings of
wonder and delight, were well founded.
Middle-aged and grizzled, with the best of my life behind me I had
never dared to think of her in this way before. Poor and comparatively
obscure, I had never raised my eyes to the wide possessions said to be
hers. Even now I felt myself dazzled and bewildered by the prospect so
suddenly unveiled. I could scarcely, without vertigo, recall her as I
had last seen her, with her hand wounded in my defence; nor, without
emotions painful in their intensity, fancy myself restored to the youth
of which I had taken leave, and to the rosy hopes and plannings which
visit most men once only, and then in early years. Hitherto I had deemed
such things the lot of others.
Daylight found me--and no wonder--still diverting myself with these
charming speculations; which had for me, be it remembered, all the force
of novelty. The sun chanced to rise that morning in a clear sky, and
brilliantly for the time of year; and words fail me when I look
back, and try to describe how delicately this single fact enhanced
my pleasure! I sunned myself in the beams, which penetrated my barred
window; and tasting the early freshness with a keen and insatiable
appetite, I experienced to the full that peculiar aspiration after
goodness which Providence allows such moments to awaken in us in youth;
but rarely when time and the camp have blunted the sensibilities.
I had not yet arrived at the stage at which difficulties have to be
reckoned up, and the chief drawback to the tumult of joy I felt took
the shape of regret that my mother no longer lived to feel the emotions
proper to the time, and to share in the prosperity which she had so
often and so fondly imagined. Nevertheless, I felt myself drawn closer
to her. I recalled with the most tender feelings, and at greater leisure
than had before been the case, her last days and words, and particularly
the appeal she had uttered on mademoiselle’s behalf. And I vowed, if
it were possible, to pay a visit to her grave before leaving the
neighbourhood, that I might there devote a few moments to the thought of
the affection which had consecrated all women in my eyes.
I was presently interrupted in these reflections by a circumstance which
proved in the end diverting enough, though far from reassuring at the
first blush. It began in a dismal rattling of chains in the passage
below and on the stairs outside my room; which were paved, like the
rest of the building, with stone. I waited with impatience and some
uneasiness to see what would come of this; and my surprise may be
imagined when, the door being unlocked, gave entrance to a man in whom I
recognised on the instant deaf Mathew--the villain whom I had last seen
with Fresnoy in the house in the Rue Valois. Amazed at seeing him
here, I sprang to my feet in fear of some treachery, and for a moment
apprehended that the Provost-Marshal had basely given me over to
Bruhl’s custody. But a second glance informing me that the man was in
irons--hence the noise I had heard--I sat down again to see what would
happen.
It then appeared, that he merely brought me my breakfast, and was
a prisoner in less fortunate circumstances than myself; but as he
pretended not to recognise me, and placed the things before me in
obdurate silence, and I had no power to make him hear, I failed to
learn how he came to be in durance. The Provost-Marshal, however, came
presently to visit me, and brought me in token that the good-fellowship
of the evening still existed a pouch of the Queen’s herb; which I
accepted for politeness’ sake rather than from any virtue I found in it.
And from him I learned how the rascal came to be in his charge.
It appeared that Fresnoy, having no mind to be hampered with a wounded
man, had deposited him on the night of our MELEE at the door of a
hospital attached to a religious house in that part of the town. The
fathers had opened to him, but before taking him in put, according to
their custom, certain questions. Matthew had been primed with the right
answers to these questions, which were commonly a form; but, unhappily
for him, the Superior by chance or mistake began with the wrong one.
‘You are not a Huguenot, my son?’ he said.
‘In God’s name, I am!’ Matthew replied with simplicity, believing he was
asked if he was a Catholic.
‘What?’ the scandalised Prior ejaculated, crossing himself in doubt,
‘are you not a true son of the Church?’
‘Never!’ quoth our deaf friend--thinking all went well.
‘A heretic!’ cried the monk.
‘Amen to that!’ replied Matthew innocently; never doubting but that he
was asked the third question, which was, commonly, whether he needed
aid.
Naturally after this there was a very pretty commotion, and
Matthew, vainly protesting that he was deaf, was hurried off to the
Provost-Marshal’s custody. Asked how he communicated with him, the
Provost answered that he could not, but that his little godchild, a girl
only eight years old, had taken a strange fancy to the rogue, and was
never so happy as when talking to him by means of signs, of which she
had invented a great number. I thought this strange at the time, but I
had proof before the morning was out that it was true enough, and
that the two were seldom apart, the little child governing this grim
cut-throat with unquestioned authority.
After the Provost was gone I heard the man’s fetters clanking again.
This time he entered to remove my cup and plate, and surprised me by
speaking to me. Maintaining his former sullenness, and scarcely looking
at me, he said abruptly: ‘You are going out again?’
I nodded assent.
‘Do you remember a bald-faced bay horse that fell with you?’ he
muttered, keeping his dogged glance on the floor.
I nodded again.
‘I want to sell the horse,’ he said. ‘There is not such another in
Blois, no, nor in Paris! Touch it on the near hip with the whip and it
will go down as if shot. At other times a child might ride it. It is
in a stable, the third from the Three Pigeons, in the Ruelle Amancy.
Fresnoy does not know where it is. He sent to ask yesterday, but I would
not tell him.’
Some spark of human feeling which appeared in his lowering, brutal
visage as he spoke of the horse led me to desire further information.
Fortunately the little girl appeared at that moment at the door in
search of her play-fellow; and through her I learned that the man’s
motive for seeking to sell the horse was fear lest the dealer in whose
charge it stood should dispose of it to repay himself for its keep, and
he, Matthew, lose it without return.
Still I did not understand why he applied to me, but I was well pleased
when I learned the truth. Base as the knave was, he had an affection for
the bay, which had been his only property for six years. Having this
in his mind, he had conceived the idea that I should treat it well, and
should not, because he was in prison and powerless, cheat him of the
price.
In the end I agreed to buy the horse for ten crowns, paying as well what
was due at the stable. I had it in my head to do something also for the
man, being moved to this partly by an idea that there was good in him,
and partly by the confidence he had seen fit to place in me, which
seemed to deserve some return. But a noise below stairs diverted my
attention. I heard myself named, and for the moment forgot the matter.