CHAPTER XXXII. A TAVERN BRAWL.

On the following day, accordingly, we started. But the news of the two

kings’ successes, and particularly the certainty which these had bred in

many minds that nothing short of a miracle could save Paris, had moved

so many gentlemen to take the road that we found the inns crowded beyond

example, and were frequently forced into meetings which made the task

of concealing our identity more difficult and hazardous than I had

expected. Sometimes shelter was not to be obtained on any terms, and

then we had to lie in the fields or in any convenient shed. Moreover,

the passage of the army had swept the country so bare both of food and

forage, that these commanded astonishing prices; and a long day’s ride

more than once brought us to our destination without securing for us the

ample meal we had earned, and required.

Under these circumstances, it was with joy little short of transport

that I recognised the marvellous change which had come over my mistress.

Bearing all without a murmur, or a frown, or so much as one complaining

word, she acted on numberless occasions so as to convince me that she

spoke truly--albeit I scarcely dared to believe it--when she said that

she had but one trouble in the world, and that was the prospect of our

coming separation.

For my part, and despite some gloomy moments, when fear of the future

overcame me, I rode in Paradise riding by my mistress. It was her

presence which glorified alike the first freshness of the morning, when

we started with all the day before us, and the coolness of the late

evening, when we rode hand-in-hand. Nor could I believe without an

effort that I was the same Gaston de Marsac who she had once spurned

and disdained. God knows I was thankful for her love. A thousand times,

thinking of my grey hairs, I asked her if she did not repent; and a

thousand times she answered No, with so much happiness in her eyes that

I was fain to thank God again and believe her.

Notwithstanding the inconvenience of the practice, we made it a rule

to wear our masks whenever we appeared in public; and this rule me kept

more strictly as we approached Paris. It exposed us to some comment and

more curiosity, but led to no serious trouble until we reached Etampes,

twelve leagues from the capital; where we found the principal inn so

noisy and crowded, and so much disturbed by the constant coming and

going of couriers, that it required no experience to predicate the

neighbourhood of the army. The great courtyard seemed to be choked with

a confused mass of men and horses, through which we made our way with

difficulty. The windows of the house were all open, and offered us a

view of tables surrounded by men eating and drinking hastily, as the

manner of travellers is. The gateway and the steps of the house were

lined with troopers and servants and sturdy rogues; who scanned all who

passed in or out, and not unfrequently followed them with ribald jests

and nicknames. Songs and oaths, brawling and laughter, with the neighing

of horses and the huzzas of the beggars, who shouted whenever a fresh

party arrived, rose above all, and increased the reluctance with which I

assisted madame and mademoiselle to dismount.

Simon was no match for such an occasion as this; but the stalwart aspect

of the three men whom Maignan had left with me commanded respect, and

attended by two of these I made a way for the ladies--not without some

opposition and a few oaths--to enter the house. The landlord, whom we

found crushed into a corner inside, and entirely overborne by the crowd

which had invaded his dwelling, assured me that he had not the smallest

garret he could place at my disposal; but I presently succeeded in

finding a small room at the top, which I purchased from the four men who

had taken possession of it. As it was impossible to get anything to

eat there, I left a man on guard, and myself descended with madame and

mademoiselle to the eating-room, a large chamber set with long boards,

and filled with a rough and noisy crew. Under a running fire of

observations we entered, and found with difficulty three seats in an

inner corner of the room.

I ran my eye over the company, and noticed among them, besides a dozen

travelling parties like our own, specimens of all those classes which

are to be found in the rear of an army. There were some officers and

more horse-dealers; half a dozen forage-agents and a few priests; with a

large sprinkling of adventurers, braves, and led-captains, and here and

there two or three whose dress and the deference paid to them by their

neighbours seemed to indicate a higher rank. Conspicuous among these

last were a party of four who occupied a small table by the door. An

attempt had been made to secure some degree of privacy for them by

interposing a settle between them and the room; and their attendants,

who seemed to be numerous, did what they could to add to this by filling

the gap with their persons. One of the four, a man of handsome dress

and bearing, who sat in the place of honour, was masked, as we were. The

gentleman at his right hand I could not see. The others, whom I could

see, were strangers to me.

Some time elapsed before our people succeeded in procuring us any food,

and during the interval we were exposed to an amount of comment on the

part of those round us which I found very little to my liking. There

were not half a dozen women present, and this and our masks rendered my

companions unpleasantly conspicuous. Aware, however, of the importance

of avoiding an altercation which might possibly detain us, and would

be certain to add to our notoriety, I remained quiet; and presently the

entrance of a tall, dark-complexioned man, who carried himself with

a peculiar swagger, and seemed to be famous for something or other,

diverted the attention of the company from us.

The new-comer was somewhat of Maignan’s figure. He wore a back and

breast over a green doublet, and had an orange feather in his cap and an

orange-lined cloak on his shoulder. On entering he stood a moment in the

doorway, letting his bold black eyes rove round the room, the while he

talked in a loud braggart fashion to his companions. There was a lack of

breeding in the man’s air, and something offensive in his look; which I

noticed produced wherever it rested a momentary silence and constraint.

When he moved farther into the room I saw that he wore a very long

sword, the point of which trailed a foot behind him.

He chose out for his first attentions the party of four whom I have

mentioned; going up to them and accosting them with a ruffling air,

directed especially to the gentleman in the mask. The latter lifted his

head haughtily on finding himself addressed by a stranger, but did not

offer to answer. Someone else did, however, for a sudden bellow like

that of an enraged bull proceeded from behind the settle. The words were

lost in noise, the unseen speaker’s anger seeming so overpowering that

he could not articulate; but the tone and voice, which were in some way

familiar to me, proved enough for the bully, who, covering his retreat

with a profound bow, backed out rapidly, muttering what was doubtless an

apology. Cocking his hat more fiercely to make up for this repulse,

he next proceeded to patrol the room, scowling from side to side as he

went, with the evident intention of picking a quarrel with someone less

formidable.

By ill-chance his eye lit, as he turned, on our masks. He said something

to his companions; and encouraged, no doubt, by the position of

our seats at the board, which led him to think us people of small

consequence, he came to a stop opposite us.

‘What! more dukes here?’ he cried scoffingly. ‘Hallo, you sir!’ he

continued to me, ‘will you not unmask and drink a glass with me?’

I thanked him civilly, but declined.

His insolent eyes were busy, while I spoke, with madame’s fair hair and

handsome figure, which her mask failed to hide. ‘Perhaps the ladies will

have better taste, sir,’ he said rudely. ‘Will they not honour us with a

sight of their pretty faces?’

Knowing the importance of keeping my temper I put constraint on myself,

and answered, still with civility, that they were greatly fatigued and

were about to retire.

‘Zounds!’ he cried, ‘that is not to be borne. If we are to lose them so

soon, the more reason we should enjoy their BEAUX YEUX while we can.

A short life and a merry one, sir. This is not a nunnery, nor, I dare

swear, are your fair friends nuns.’

Though I longed to chastise him for this insult, I feigned deafness,

and went on with my meal as if I had not heard him; and the table being

between us prevented him going beyond words. After he had uttered one or

two coarse jests of a similar character, which cost us less as we were

masked, and our emotions could only be guessed, the crowd about us,

seeing I took the thing quietly, began to applaud him; but more as it

seemed to me out of fear than love. In this opinion I was presently

confirmed on hearing from Simon who whispered the information in my

ear as he handed a dish--that the fellow was an Italian captain in the

king’s pay, famous for his skill with the sword and the many duels in

which he had displayed it.

Mademoiselle, though she did not know this, bore with his insolence with

a patience which astonished me; while madame appeared unconscious of it.

Nevertheless, I was glad when he retired and left us in peace. I seized

the moment of his absence to escort the ladies through the room and

upstairs to their apartment, the door of which I saw locked and secured.

That done I breathed more freely; and feeling thankful that I had been

able to keep my temper, took the episode to be at an end.

But in this I was mistaken, as I found when I returned to the room in

which we had supped, my intention being to go through it to the stables.

I had not taken two paces across the floor before I found my road

blocked by the Italian, and read alike in his eyes and in the faces

of the company--of whom many hastened to climb the tables to see what

passed--that the meeting was premeditated. The man’s face was flushed

with wine; proud of his many victories, he eyed me with a boastful

contempt my patience had perhaps given him the right to feel.

‘Ha! well met, sir,’ he said, sweeping the floor with his cap in an

exaggeration of respect, ‘now, perhaps, your high-mightiness will

condescend to unmask? The table is no longer between us, nor are your

fair friends here to protect their CHER AMI!’

‘If I still refuse, sir,’ I said civilly, wavering between anger and

prudence, and hoping still to avoid a quarrel which might endanger

us all, ‘be good enough to attribute it to private motives, and to no

desire to disoblige you.’

‘No, I do not think you wish to disoblige me,’ he answered, laughing

scornfully--and a dozen voices echoed the gibe. ‘But for your private

motives, the devil take them! Is that plain enough, sir?’

‘It is plain enough to show me that you are an ill-bred man!’ I

answered, choler getting the better of me. ‘Let me pass, sir.’

‘Unmask!’ he retorted, moving so as still to detain me, ‘or shall I call

in the grooms to perform the office for you?’

Seeing at last that all my attempts to evade the man only fed his

vanity, and encouraged him to further excesses, and that the motley

crowd, who filled the room and already formed a circle round us, had

made up their minds to see sport, I would no longer balk them; I could

no longer do it, indeed, with honour. I looked round, therefore, for

someone whom I might enlist as my second, but I saw no one with whom

I had the least acquaintance. The room was lined from table to ceiling

with mocking faces and scornful eyes all turned to me.

My opponent saw the look, and misread it; being much accustomed, I

imagine, to a one-sided battle. He laughed contemptuously. ‘No, my

friend, there is no way out of it,’ he said. ‘Let me see your pretty

face, or fight.’

‘So be it,’ I said quietly. ‘If I have no other choice, I will fight.’

‘In your mask?’ he cried incredulously.

‘Yes,’ I said sternly, feeling every nerve tingle with long-suppressed

rage. ‘I will fight as I am. Off with your back and breast, if you are

a man. And I will so deal with you that if you see to-morrow’s sun you

shall need a mask for the rest of your days!’

‘Ho! ho!’ he answered, scowling at me in surprise, ‘you sing in a

different key now. But I will put a term to it. There is space enough

between these tables, if you can use your weapon; and much more than you

will need to-morrow.’

‘To-morrow will show,’ I retorted.

Without more ado he unfastened the buckles of his breast-piece, and

relieving himself of it, stepped back a pace. Those of the bystanders

who occupied the part of the room he indicated--a space bounded by

four tables, and not unfit for the purpose, though somewhat

confined--hastened to get out of it, and seize instead upon neighbouring

posts of ‘vantage. The man’s reputation was such, and his fame so great,

that on all sides I heard naught but wagers offered against me at odds;

but this circumstance, which might have flurried a younger man and

numbed his arm, served only to set me on making the most of such

openings as the fellow’s presumption and certainty of success would be

sure to afford.

The news of the challenge running through the house had brought together

by this time so many people as to fill the room from end to end, and

even to obscure the light, which was beginning to wane. At the last

moment, when we were on the point of engaging, a slight commotion marked

the admission to the front of three or four persons, whose consequence

or attendants gained them this advantage. I believed them to be the

party of four I have mentioned, but at the time I could not be certain.

In the few seconds of waiting while this went forward I examined our

relative positions with the fullest intention of killing the man--whose

glittering eyes and fierce smile filled me with a loathing which was

very nearly hatred--if I could. The line of windows lay to my right and

his left. The evening light fell across us, whitening the row of faces

on my left, but leaving those on my right in shadow. It occurred to me

on the instant that my mask was actually an advantage, seeing that it

protected my sight from the side-light, and enabled me to watch his eyes

and point with more concentration.

‘You will be the twenty-third man I have killed!’ he said boastfully, as

we crossed swords and stood an instant on guard.

‘Take care!’ I answered. ‘You have twenty-three against you!’

A swift lunge was his only answer. I parried it, and thrust, and we fell

to work. We had not exchanged half a dozen blows, however, before I saw

that I should need all the advantage which my mask and greater caution

gave me. I had met my match, and it might be something more; but that

for a time it was impossible to tell. He had the longer weapon, and I

the longer reach. He preferred the point, after the new Italian fashion,

and I the blade. He was somewhat flushed with wine, while my arm had

scarcely recovered the strength of which illness had deprived me.

On the other hand, excited at the first by the cries of his backers,

he played rather wildly; while I held myself prepared, and keeping up a

strong guard, waited cautiously for any opening or mistake on his part.

The crowd round us, which had hailed our first passes with noisy cries

of derision and triumph, fell silent after a while, surprised and taken

aback by their champion’s failure to spit me at the first onslaught. My

reluctance to engage had led them to predict a short fight and an easy

victory.

Convinced of the contrary, they began to watch each stroke with bated

breath; or now and again, muttering the name of Jarnac, broke into

brief exclamations as a blow more savage than usual drew sparks from our

blades, and made the rafters ring with the harsh grinding of steel on

steel.

The surprise of the crowd, however, was a small thing compared with that

of my adversary. Impatience, disgust, rage and doubt chased one another

in turn across his flushed features. Apprised that he had to do with

a swordsman, he put forth all his power. With spite in his eyes he

laboured blow on blow, he tried one form of attack after another, he

found me equal, if barely equal, to all. And then at last there came a

change. The perspiration gathered on his brow, the silence disconcerted

him; he felt his strength failing under the strain, and suddenly, I

think, the possibility of defeat and death, unthought of before, burst

upon him. I heard him groan, and for a moment he fenced wildly. Then

he again recovered himself. But now I read terror in his eyes, and knew

that the moment of retribution was at hand. With his back to the table,

and my point threatening his breast, he knew at last what those others

had felt!

He would fain have stopped to breathe, but I would not let him though my

blows also were growing feeble, and my guard weaker; for I knew that

if I gave him time to recover himself he would have recourse to other

tricks, and might out-manoeuvre me in the end. As it was, my black

unchanging mask, which always confronted him, which hid all emotions

and veiled even fatigue, had grown to be full of terror to him--full

of blank, passionless menace. He could not tell how I fared, or what I

thought, or how my strength stood. Superstitious dread was on him, and

threatened, to overpower him. Ignorant who I was or whence I came,

he feared and doubted, grappling with monstrous suspicions, which the

fading light encouraged. His face broke out in blotches, his breath

came and went in gasps, his eyes began to protrude. Once or twice they

quitted mine for a part of a second to steal a despairing glance at the

rows of onlookers that ran to right and left of us. But he read no pity

there.

At last the end came--more suddenly than I had looked for it, but I

think he was unnerved. His hand lost its grip of the hilt, and a parry

which I dealt a little more briskly than usual sent the weapon

flying among the crowd, as much to my astonishment as to that of the

spectators. A volley of oaths and exclamations hailed the event; and for

a moment I stood at gaze, eyeing him watchfully. He shrank back; then he

made for a moment as if he would fling himself upon me dagger in

hand. But seeing my point steady, he recoiled a second time, his face

distorted with rage and fear.

‘Go!’ I said sternly. ‘Begone! Follow your sword! But spare the next man

you conquer.’

He stared at me, fingering his dagger as if he did not understand, or

as if in the bitterness of his shame at being so defeated even life were

unwelcome. I was about to repeat my words when a heavy hand fell on my

shoulder.

‘Fool!’ a harsh growling voice muttered in my ear. ‘Do you want him to

serve you as Achon served Matas? This is the way to deal with him.’

And before I knew who spoke or what to expect a man vaulted over the

table beside me. Seizing the Italian by the neck and waist, he flung him

bodily--without paying the least regard to his dagger--into the crowd.

‘There!’ the new-comer cried, stretching his arms as if the effort had

relieved him, ‘so much for him! And do you breathe yourself. Breathe

yourself, my friend,’ he continued with a vain-glorious air of

generosity. ‘When you are rested and ready, you and I will have a bout.

Mon dieu! what a thing it is to see a man! And by my faith you are a

man!’

‘But, sir,’ I said, staring at him in the utmost bewilderment, ‘we have

no quarrel.’

‘Quarrel?’ he cried in his loud, ringing voice. ‘Heaven forbid! Why

should we? I love a man, however, and when I see one I say to him, “I am

Crillon! Fight me!” But I see you are not yet rested. Patience! There is

no hurry. Berthon de Crillon is proud to wait your convenience. In the

meantime, gentlemen,’ he continued, turning with a grand air to the

spectators, who viewed this sudden BOULEVERSEMENT with unbounded

surprise, ‘let us do what we can. Take the word from me, and cry all,

“VIVE LE ROI, ET VIVE L’INCONNU!”’

Like people awaking from a dream--so great was their astonishment the

company complied and with the utmost heartiness. When the shout died

away, someone cried in turn, ‘Vive Crillon!’ and this was honoured with

a fervour which brought the tears to the eyes of that remarkable man,

in whom bombast was so strangely combined with the firmest and most

reckless courage. He bowed again and again, turning himself about in the

small space between the tables, while his face shone with pleasure and

enthusiasm. Meanwhile I viewed him with perplexity. I comprehended that

it was his voice I had heard behind the settle; but I had neither the

desire to fight him nor so great a reserve of strength after my illness

as to be able to enter on a fresh contest with equanimity. When he

turned to me, therefore, and again asked, ‘Well, sir, are you ready?’

I could think of no better answer than that I had already made to him,

‘But, sir, I have no quarrel with you.’

‘Tut, tut!’ he answered querulously, ‘if that is all, let us engage.’

‘That is not all, however,’ I said, resolutely putting up my sword. ‘I

have not only no quarrel with M. de Crillon, but I received at his hands

when I last saw him a considerable service.’

‘Then now is the time to return it,’ he answered briskly, and as if

that settled the matter.

I could not refrain from laughing. ‘Nay, but I have still an excuse,’

I said. ‘I am barely recovered from an illness, and am weak. Even so,

I should be loth to decline a combat with some; but a better man than I

may give the wall to M. de Crillon and suffer no disgrace.’

‘Oh, if you put it that way--enough said,’ he answered in a tone of

disappointment. ‘And, to be sure, the light is almost gone. That is a

comfort. But you will not refuse to drink a cup of wine with me? Your

voice I remember, though I cannot say who you are or what service I did

you. For the future, however, count on me. I love a man who is brave as

well as modest, and know no better friend than a stout swordsman.’

I was answering him in fitting terms--while the fickle crowd, which a

few minutes earlier had been ready to tear me, viewed us from a distance

with respectful homage--when the masked gentleman who had before been in

his company drew near and saluted me with much stateliness.

‘I congratulate you, sir,’ he said, in the easy tone of a great man

condescending. ‘You use the sword as few use it, and fight with your

head as well as your hands. Should you need a friend or employment,

you will honour me by remembering that you are known to the Vicomte de

Turenne.’

I bowed low to hide the start which the mention of his name caused

me. For had I tried, ay, and possessed to aid me all the wit of M.

de Brantome, I could have imagined nothing more fantastic than this

meeting; or more entertaining than that I, masked, should talk with the

Vicomte de Turenne masked, and hear in place of reproaches and threats

of vengeance a civil offer of protection. Scarcely knowing whether I

should laugh or tremble, or which should occupy me more, the diverting

thing that had happened or the peril we had barely escaped, I made shift

to answer him, craving his indulgence if I still preserved my incognito.

Even while I spoke a fresh fear assailed me: lest M. de Crillon,

recognising my voice or figure, should cry my name on the spot, and

explode in a moment the mine on which we stood.

This rendered me extremely impatient to be gone. But M. le Vicomte

had still something to say, and I could not withdraw myself without

rudeness.

‘You are travelling north like everyone else?’ he said, gazing at me

curiously. ‘May I ask whether you are for Meudon, where the King of

Navarre lies, or for the Court at St. Cloud?’

I muttered, moving restlessly under his keen eyes, that I was for

Meudon.

‘Then, if you care to travel with a larger company,’ he rejoined, bowing

with negligent courtesy, ‘pray command me. I am for Meudon also, and

shall leave here three hours before noon.’

Fortunately he took my assent to his gracious invitation for granted,

and turned away before I had well begun to thank him. From Crillon I

found it more difficult to escape. He appeared to have conceived a

great fancy for me, and felt also, I imagine, some curiosity as to

my identity. But I did even this at last, and, evading the obsequious

offers which were made me on all sides, escaped to the stables, where

I sought out the Cid’s stall, and lying down in the straw beside him,

began to review the past, and plan the future. Under cover of the

darkness sleep soon came to me; my last waking thoughts being divided

between thankfulness for my escape and a steady purpose to reach Meudon

before the Vicomte, so that I might make good my tale in his absence.

For that seemed to be my only chance of evading the dangers I had chosen

to encounter.

A Gentleman of France: Being the Memoirs of Gaston de Bonne Sieur de Marsac · 第 32 / 36 章