A NEW FRIEND
I rapped on the table, called a waitress, and ordered a bottle of light
wine, which I knew would not hurt me.
"Send for Mademoiselle Florine," and before many seconds were gone that
lady presented herself, and perched upon the edge of the table where I
sat. Her humor was gay, her laugh was keen; she smiled and asked, "Has
Monsieur forgiven?" with such a penitent little look I bade her be at
ease.
"Mademoiselle, sit down, I pray you," and she saw by my serious face I
was in no mood for chaffing, so she seated herself with a pretty air of
attention. I could see the fellow at the dice watching, but now he
appeared quite satisfied I intended to stay and drink with the girl.
She was evidently a great favorite with the habitues of the place. He
looked at me less frequently than at the door, and I guessed he
expected Yvard's return.
Now I grew certain. Yvard had merely gone down the stair to see if he
had dropped the papers in the fight. As soon as he found they were not
there I felt morally certain he would come and demand them of me. I
had begun the game, and must play out the hand. So I reached across
the table, filled the glasses for myself and Florine, raising mine high
as if I would propose a toast. I tapped her banteringly on the cheek,
for the benefit of him who watched, and said in a low tone, trying to
maintain my nonchalant manner.
"Listen to me a minute, and I beseech you smile, do not look so
serious. You brought me here, and now I trust you to get me out alive.
Is there any other way than that I came?"
She looked about her apprehensively, so I cautioned her again.
"For heaven's sake smile; I am closely watched, and you must laugh and
be merry as if I drank with you and made love."
She comprehended, and well did she play her part. The tones of her
voice were light and playful; she lifted the glass to her lips, tasting
as a connoisseur, and said between her sips:
"Yes, Monsieur, there is--another way leading out--on an alley--in the
rear."
"How do you reach it?"
"The door behind the table--where they play for highest stakes--leads
to the passage. Do but cast--your eyes that way--and you will see."
"Then let us--"
"Wait, Monsieur, not yet. If Monsieur would go and seat himself at
that table, as if he desired to play, I will slip around and make ready
the door for him. Monsieur was kind to me, and Florine is grateful.
Even we women here respect a gentleman."
I pitied the woman from the bottom of my heart. I took out my purse,
paid the reckoning, and together we wandered aimlessly toward that
table, laughing and looking on at the various games. The fellow
watched us as we went, but was pleased, and seemed satisfied the woman
but carried out the purposes of her employment.
I took a seat at the table, laid a wager or two and made myself intent
upon the game. Florine stood behind my chair for awhile, watched my
play, then disappeared. After a little she returned and again took her
place behind me. Directly she laughed out merrily, and in a tone loud
enough to be heard by the man who listened as well as watched, cried:
"Monsieur plays the stakes too low. Fortune favors the brave," and
reaching over she took several gold pieces from my store, laid them out
and leaned close beside me to watch the throw. In this position she
whispered:
"I have the key to the outer door. The inner door will be unlocked.
Monsieur will play twice more, and by that time I will be in the
passage. Arise, and when you lay your hand upon the door I will open
it from the other side." I lost the throw.
"Double the wager, and better luck next time," she laughed as she moved
off, and joking lightly to different men she knew, made her way beyond
my range of vision. During the play I saw Yvard come in hurriedly and
question the man at the door. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his
head. Yvard evidently asked who had passed out or in.
The doorkeeper then recollected, and I imagined he was telling of the
two gentlemen who had just gone down the stair. Yvard stood an instant
as if uncertain what to do. He was much agitated and perfectly sober.
He glanced toward the table where he had left me. I was gone. He
strode over to his confederate, yet engaged in play, and made no
pretense of concealing the abruptness of his question. The man, in
reply, indicated my position at the other table. Yvard appeared
somewhat relieved. Again he spoke, and this time the man at the table
gathered up the money in front of him and replaced it in his purse.
Then he cried loud enough for me to hear:
"What?"
And sprang up instantly. They both looked at me and held a hurried
consultation, then separated, and one going one way, one the other,
came over toward where I sat. By this time my second throw was made,
and I felt if Florine played me false the game was lost. Yet hoping
for everything I rose quietly, and thrusting my winnings in a
wallet--for I had been fortunate--stepped back and laid my hand upon
the knob. It was locked.
I had no time to think, but saw the whole trick; lured to my
destruction, hemmed in beyond hope of escape. Bitterly I repented my
folly.
I have heard men say they faced death without a tremor, and so for that
matter have I, yea, many times, but it was upon an honest field in
lawful fight for honor's sake or duty's. My cheek paled in spite of
me, at sight of the men who now came on. Three others with blades half
drawn pressed close behind Yvard. How many more there were I had no
knowledge.
It was a sore test to my courage thus to meet the ugly chill of death
in a Parisian gambling hell--in a place of such ill-repute. But there
was no escape, and even if I fell in fight, they would brand me as a
thief. Should the papers be found on my body, then honorable men would
execrate my memory as a traitor to country and to King, for had not
Serigny told me he could not avow my connection with him? The lust of
life still surging strong within me, I drew my sword. Its point
effectually guarded the narrow space in front from post to post. They
parleyed a time, and I rested firm against the door.
"Come, fellow, thou art trapped; give me up my purse."
"Spit the thief, run him through," came from one of those behind--for
the rear guard, beyond the reach of steel, was ever loud and brave.
But Yvard, being in front, was more cautious. He well knew the first
man who came against me would be badly hurt. And, I rather fancied, he
respected my blade.
As they took counsel together, dozens of voices from the hall swelled
the din, yet above it all I caught a light step without. My heart
bounded to my throat; I felt the door give way at my back, and before
they understood what had happened, I was safe on the other side, with
the stout oaken boards well locked between.
I heard Yvard yell: "To the great gate, my bullies, and I will follow
here," and at once a great pressure was cast against the door, but it
bravely bore the strain.
"Come," Florine said; and taking me by the hand together we sped
through many dark and devious windings, until I stood once more in the
open street.
"Hurry, Monsieur, take that street; it leads to Rue St. Antoine, whence
Monsieur can find his way."
I would have paused a moment to thank the girl, but she bade me haste.
I pressed a piece of gold into her hand; she would not have it.
"No, Monsieur, not for your gold," and the woman of the wine shop
shamed my thought. "Good-night, Monsieur." She kissed my hand, and
drew back into the darkness.
I turned hastily down the street, but had not made more than the
distance of three rods when I heard a scream, and looking back saw two
men dragging Florine back into the street.
"Which way did he go?" Yvard demanded fiercely.
She made no reply.
"Speak quick or I'll kill you as I would a hare."
Still she kept her tongue.
"She makes time for her lover, Carne," the other man suggested, and as
I feared he would strike, I called out loudly to them:
"Here he is," to draw them off from the girl.
They dropped her at once and started in my direction. I ran on ahead,
yet at a disadvantage, for I knew not where to go, knowing, too, that I
could not fight them both. Yet more than all I dreaded falling into
the hands of the city guard with the papers I had upon me. I ran under
a street lamp, and taking up a position some twenty feet beyond in the
dark, waited. The knife for one, the sword for the other, was my
thought. Holding my long sword in my left hand, I swung my right free,
and catching my knife by its point, stood my ground. The younger man
was swifter, yet seemed afraid to lead Yvard. So they passed under the
lamp side by side.
Selecting Yvard as my mark, I made a quick cast, and had the
satisfaction of seeing my knife glitter as it struck him full in the
shoulder, and bury itself well to the hilt. It was a trick I had
learned from the Indians, and it had not been lost.
"A million devils, who was that?" screamed the stricken man, tugging to
free the knife. Out it came, followed by a widening dark stain upon
his doublet.
"He had others with him--hidden in the dark," and at his companion's
suggestion, they stood back to back, in readiness for their imaginary
foes.
This gave me an opportunity to slip away, they pursuing no further. I
dodged round the next corner and took my way up a street running
parallel to the one I left.
When they no longer came I slackened my pace to a walk, trying in vain
to recall how I came and how to reach Rue St. Denis. There was nothing
for it but to keep straight on. The streets grew broader and travelers
were not so few. I questioned several, and for a coin secured an
honest-looking idler to guide me. It was not so very far after all to
my inn, yet right joyful I was to see the place again and to find a
cheerful fire blazing on the hearth. I stood before the homelike
warmth and chuckled to myself at the success of my adventure.
The host and some crony of his sat at table with their cards and ale.
I overlooked the game. They exchanged glances and prepared to leave
off, whereat I apologized and begged them not to let me disturb them.
Claude declared he had only waited for me, and being tired he would
shut the house. He went on up to bed and his friend took a seat beside
me at the fire.
He was a simple-looking young fellow, dressed after the fashion of a
peasant farmer, with mild blue eyes, and straggling yellow whiskers on
his chin. I thought to question him about the city.
"Well, friend, how goes the world in Paris?"
"Much the same as ever, yet your Paris is new to me."
"Indeed? You are not of the city; of what place, then?"
"Of Languedoc, in the south, where the skies are bluer and the wind
does not cut you through as it does in this damp Paris of yours."
"Yes, I thought you of Languedoc, from your speech. So the climate is
with us in our parts beyond the seas. Beneath our southern sun ice is
a thing almost unknown, and the snow never comes."
"And where do you live, my lord?" his eyes wide open and shallow.
I felt somewhat flattered at his artless recognition of the difference
In our stations.
"In Biloxi; the Southern Provinces, Louisiana," I explained, "whereof
Bienville is governor."
Afterward I thought I could remember a knowing twinkle in the fellow's
eye, which passed unnoticed at the moment.
"Ah, I hear much of the colonies; it must be a goodly land to dwell in,
but for the savages and the cannibals."
I laughed outright.
"Verily, friend, we have no cannibals worse than the barbarous
Spaniards who wait but the chance to slaughter our garrison," and
before I was aware, I had told him of my voyage from Biloxi, and of
going to Versailles, stopping short only of giving the purpose of my
visit to Paris. I was sore ashamed of the indiscretion. When I looked
I found him laughing silently to himself, laughing at me.
"Then you are Captain de Mouret?" he asked with purest Parisian
intonation, and the courtesy of a gentleman.
"How do you know?" I attempted to be stern, but somehow my effort fell
flat. "How do you know?"
"Well, I've been expecting you," and he brushed his hand across his
chin, wiping the yellow whiskers away before my astonished eyes.
"I am Jerome de Greville. Claude told me of your coming, but I wished
to make sure. We have examined your baggage," he went on frankly,
unmindful of my ill-concealed disapproval, "but found nothing in the
way of identification. You see," he apologized, "these things are
necessary here, in affairs of this nature, if a fellow would preserve
the proper connection between his head and his body."
He rolled up his whiskers, laid aside a yellow wig, and I could see he
was as Serigny had described. He was not as tall as I, but strongly
built, and some two good years my senior.
"Captain, if you will allow me I will take these traps of yours to our
apartments. You lodge with me."
I was nettled that I should have spoken so freely to a stranger, and
felt ill-disposed to be pleasant, but he soon drove away any lingering
animosity.
When we had settled in our rooms, which adjoined, de Greville threw
himself across his couch and said:
"Look here, de Mouret, we have a hard task before us, and you may as
well know it. M. de Serigny tells me he has instructed you himself,
but details he would leave to me. What's your name?"
"Placide," I replied as simply as a lad of ten.
"Well, I'm Jerome. We are to stand together now, and men engaged in
business like ours have no time for extra manners."
His _bon camaraderie_ was contagious, and I gladly caught it. "Agreed,
Jerome; so be it. Go on."
"First we must locate our friend Carne Yvard, the very fiend of a
fellow, who stops at nothing. Then to catch him with the papers, take
them, cost what it will. For that work we have strong lads enough and
true. Above all we must make no mistake when we strike, for if he
scents our suspicions of him he'll whisk them off to Spain before you
could bat your eye."
I listened to him intently, yet enjoying to the utmost my prospective
triumph. He went on:
"Then there is that other fellow; we don't know who he is, the one that
came over with you. He will probably exchange dispatches with Yvard,
then off to the colonies again. There is not so much trouble about
him, for he can be captured aboard ship. It is Yvard we want, and his
dispatches."
I said very quietly, still looking into the fire:
"That much is already done."
Jerome raised up on his elbow and stared at me as if he thought me mad.
"I have taken those dispatches from your friend. Here they are."
"The devil you have," he cried out, reaching the middle of the floor at
a single bound. "How and when?"
He would not leave off until I had related the whole of my adventure
beginning with meeting the girl, and ending when I found him, at the
inn. He was as happy as a school-boy, and laughed heartily at my being
so readily made a victim of by the girl Florine.
"Such tender doves to pluck she does not often find, and I warrant you
she lets not many go so easily."
I thought it unnecessary to tell him of my encounter with Yvard, only
that I had found the packet where he dropped it.
"You lucky dog; it's well he did not see you, or you might not now be
talking to me with a whole skin."
It was better though to let him know of Yvard's wound, for that would
perhaps assist us in a measure to determine upon our future course. So
that part of the affair I detailed in full.
"Verily, lad, your savage accomplishment stood you in good stead."
He recognized the description I gave of the fellow with Yvard, but said
he was a bully, hired merely to fight, and perhaps knew nothing of
consequence. Then we examined very closely the envelope containing the
papers. It had, from all appearance, come over from the colonies, and
bore traces of having long been carried about a man's person. This
settled one matter. The go-betweens had met, and the traitor on le
Dauphin was most likely in possession of the instructions from Spain.
This made his capture the more important.
De Greville well merited all Serigny had said of his shrewdness, and
more. Now see what a simple scheme he laid.
We were first to find where Yvard was hidden. He would certainly go
into hiding until his wound was healed; the finding of the papers upon
him making it necessary he should not be seen in Paris.
Where would he be likely to secrete himself? Ah, trust a woman for
that; so reasoned Jerome. What woman? L'Astrea, of course. Of her
intrigue with Yvard, de Greville, who was a handsome gallant with a
smooth tongue, had learned from a waitress at Bertrand's. This was the
more probable because, Bertrand's being a public place, the confederate
could seek him there without suspicion. This confederate being unknown
and unsuspected could come and go unchallenged. Jerome's deductions
were plain enough when he told me these things and the wherefore.
It was agreed our plan would be to watch L'Astrea; she at least would
enable us to find Yvard, or his accomplice whom we most wished to
discover.
Who would do this? Why I, of course, for no one knew me, or would know
me when I had wrought the miracle of shining boots, blue coat, curly
wig, laces at throat, in all which small matters Jerome was a
connoisseur, and so it was laid out with much care; run the quarry to
earth, then continue the chase as needs demanded.
Yet folly of follies; how lightly are such well arranged plans broken
into. Through a woman came all this scheming, by a woman's hand it was
all swept into naught. Both innocent of intention, both ignorant of
effect. Yet it was true. Jerome and I, as we then thought, disposed
our pieces with great care and circumspection, advanced the pawns,
guarded the king, and made ready for the final checkmate. Yet a
woman's caprice overturned the board, scattered our puppets far and
wide, and by the tyranny of an accident recast our game on other lines,
without rule or rhyme or reason.