MY PYRAMID OF CARDS COMES DOWN
I may say at once that in this chronicle it often befalls that I have
to describe the actions and deal with the motives of others. In doing
this I have given no rein to idle fancy, but have strictly followed
what those who played a part in my life have told me.
To show that my authorities in this respect are beyond reproach I have
but to mention the names of my friends--Blaise Ste. Marie de Lorgnac,
now, as all know, the Maréchal Duc de Lorgnac; and Nicholas d'Ayen,
Sieur de Besme, of the Quercy, who acted so strange a part in his day
under the name of Le Brusquet. Each of these is prepared on his faith,
as knight and gentleman, to support my words, either on foot or on
horseback, with sword or with lance, and in this respect I too am ready
to cross a blade, or run a course; and so, God defend the Truth!
If further proof is needed I beg leave to refer to the confession of
the Italian, Torquato Trotto, made at his expiation, which gives many
and curious details, especially of what happened in Le Jaquemart, and
which is registered in the archives of the Parliament of Paris, where
all who list may see it. There is yet one other whom I could name, one
who is ever at my side, and who for good or for ill has taken me as
part of her life; but for the present the names I have cited are
sufficient, and I shall say no more on the subject.
On returning to my apartment after leaving Vendôme and Le Brusquet I
found old Camus at the door awaiting me. He entered with me, saying:
"I watched it all from the window. Hey! but it was well done!"
I pretended to take no notice of this remark, and pressed some
refreshment upon him; but the old rascal refused, and sat with his knee
between his hands, rocking himself backwards and forwards. He went on
to make some roundabout inquiries as to who the persons were to whose
assistance I had gone, but I told him plainly that I did not desire to
discuss the subject.
Becoming nettled at this, he said: "Ho! ho! and so you do not trust me,
Monsieur Broussel! Well, I tell you I know at any rate who it is that
lies dead out there, for I have been to see, and it will not take long
for me to find out the rest."
"Go and find out, then!" I said somewhat roughly, being annoyed in my
turn.
At which he rose in a white heat. "That I will," he said; "and you
will find that the hand of Madame Diane, soft as it is, can grip
hard--hard, mind you, Monsieur Broussel!"
With this he flung out; and so we, who but an hour or two ago were in
friendly converse, parted in anger, and with stormy words.
In a manner I was not sorry for this, for in my heart I always felt a
warning against him, and there was something so ominous, so evil, in
his face as he left that I felt assured he would strike a felon blow at
the first opportunity.
The more I reflected on what had happened, and on Camus' threat in
connection with Diane de Poitiers, the more I began to see a crop of
dangers ahead of me. I began to think it well to retire to some other
city. In this I was influenced by the fact that, if there were trouble
about the dead man and I were involved in it, as after Camus' words I
felt I should certainly be, it was hardly possible that I could escape
being recognised.
The sentence against me, cruel and unjust as it was, stood still, and,
once I was discovered, it would be put into force for certain.
Like a prudent general, I felt I must beat a retreat. The bulk of my
money was in trustworthy hands in Antwerp, but in my oak chest were a
hundred gold crowns of the sun--a great stand-by and help in the hour
of trouble.
There was nothing for it but to go, and, summoning Pierrebon, I told
him of my intention. We set to work to pack a valise at once. This
being done, we waited for the small hours.
It was about four in the morning that I decided to move, and taking a
last look at the place where I had lived so long in peace I went out
into the street, followed by Pierrebon bearing the valise. I had to
leave everything behind except the barest necessities and my money, and
to trust the well-being of my goods to Fortune. The jade was unkind
enough to forget me in this matter, which put me to heavy loss.
It was, of course, impossible to leave Paris at this hour, as the gates
would be shut; but behind the Abbey of St. Germain de Pres was a little
hostel called the Chapeau Rouge, where I knew I could find shelter
until I could procure a couple of horses and be off.
At four in the morning night-hawks are abed, and even the convicts had
ceased working on the Gloriette. The moon had gone, and it was dark
now--the darkness that precedes the dawn.
We met not a soul as we stumbled along, and coming out at length to the
Vallée de Misère we passed the Gloriette, and kept to our right along
the river face, until almost opposite the Church of St. Germain
l'Auxerrois. Here moored to the bank were a number of boats, the
boatmen sleeping within them. Groping about in the darkness--such
noises as we made being fortunately drowned by the continual lap, lap
of the water against the sides of the boat, and their creaking and
groaning as they rubbed against each other--we at length found a small
empty boat tied to a large one. Favoured by darkness, we loosened the
knot, and, taking to the oars, crossed the river without being
perceived by a soul.
Once on the opposite bank we made the boat fast to some piles of wood
near the water's edge, and leaving a piece of silver for the boatman,
which I trust he found, we took the road to the Abbey of St. Germain.
Near here we found a retreat in the scaffolding of a house that was
being repaired. There we stayed until it was light, and about six in
the morning arrived at the inn, as though we were early travellers who
had entered Paris on the opening of the Porte St. Germain. In this
manner, favoured by luck, and by the exercise of caution, I bade
farewell to the Rue de Lavandières, and gave Camus the slip, without
leaving any trace behind me.
The Chapeau Rouge was an inn mostly frequented by students, and in my
younger days I knew it well, though, to be sure, more than a dozen
years had passed since I last entered it. It was surrounded by a large
garden, enclosed by a high wall, and I could have chosen no better
place for my purpose, which was to lie close during the day, and, as
soon as horses were procured, to depart at dusk, about the hour of the
shutting of the gates.
As it happened, on this day there was scarce a soul at the inn, all the
usual customers having been drawn away to witness the execution of a
Portuguese named Gomez, who had been found guilty of sorcery,
witchcraft, and other crimes, and was to suffer in expiation on the
Place Maubert.
This ill wind, however, blew fair for me, as it left me undisturbed;
and sending Pierrebon to purchase or hire horses I awaited his return.
It was well on in the afternoon, and the sun being hot I was resting in
the shade of the garden wall, when from within a summer-house all
covered with roses, that stood near to me, I heard a lute string
touched by a master-hand, and a man's voice, full and clear, began to
sing "The Three Cavaliers." With a rush a hundred recollections of the
past came back to me, and I felt myself once more a heedless boy,
sitting on that very same seat where the singer was now, and singing
the same song. I rose and went forward, and to my surprise saw it was
Le Brusquet, lute in hand, and by his side there sat a small brown ape,
a collar of gold round his neck.
I listened till the last of the song, and was about to turn away; but,
the ape running out of the summer-house at the time, the jester put his
head through the entrance, with a "Back! Pompon! back!" and caught
sight of me.
In a moment he was by my side, and, willy-nilly, forced me into the
summer-house.
"The very man I wanted," he said. "I came here to think of you. I
always come here when in doubt or trouble--and here you are--dropped
from the clouds." He poured out some wine for me, and when we had
drank a health together he asked me:
"_Eh bien_, monsieur, tell me how you came here; tell me all, for I am
a friend."
It was impossible not to see this, and in a few words I told him. He
listened gravely the while, stroking his ape's head.
When I had done he spoke. "I too have something to tell you. There is
an outcry about Madame Diane's Italian--the first time an outcry has
been made about any such scum. This morning there was a scene at the
_petit couvert_. I was there. The short of it is that the King, my
gossip, sided with his mistress as against Vendôme. Words ran so high
that the Duke was ordered to leave Paris, which he did at once."
I looked at the ring on my finger, and Le Brusquet saw the look.
"I fear," he said, "that little talisman has lost its power for the
present; but, to go on, I had other business in the morning which I
could not avoid. Towards eleven o'clock I hastened to the Rue des
Lavandières to return your sword and to warn you. To my relief you
were not there. Your hermit's paradise is gone, and an angel, in the
form of one of M. Morin's guards, is at the door. Instead of a flaming
sword he carries an arquebus----"
"It is quick work," I cut in; "and they have seized everything, I
suppose?"
"Yes; everything. And your ostensible accuser and witness against you
is one Camus, a glove-maker. He laid an information against you at
sunrise. He was with Valentinois an hour later. Diane rises with the
dawn, you know; and he is her glove-maker."
"So he has struck hard, and struck quickly."
"Yes; there is very little glove about his action. And more, Diane
seems bent upon avenging the death of her Italian. But, monsieur, what
is your next move?"
I explained my intention, and how I proposed to quit Paris; whereat he
shook his head.
"It will not do," he said; "the gates are watched. So far you have
beaten them, but there you will fail, and here detection is certain."
"I must risk something."
"As little as possible." And after a pause: "What do you say to the
Louvre?"
"The Louvre!--the lion's den!"
"The safest place on earth. See here, Monsieur Broussel. I owe you my
life; give me a chance to make some return. Can you trust me enough to
put yourself in my hands? I will not fail you. It is not Le Brusquet
the King's jester, but Nicholas d'Ayen, Sieur de Besme, of the Quercy,
who pledges his word."
We stared each other in the face, and my good genius came to my elbow.
"Yes," I said.
In short, it was arranged that I should meet him towards sunset at the
entrance to the tennis court, east of the Louvre. There was some
difficulty about Pierrebon and the horses; but in this Le Brusquet
again came to my aid, and it was settled that Pierrebon should find
shelter in a house in the Rue Tire Boudin, which belonged to Monsieur
Blaise de Lorgnac, Seigneur of Malezieux, and lieutenant of the Queen's
guard, the same being a tried and true friend of my new-found
benefactor.
Pierrebon at this moment returning, I hailed him. He had been
unsuccessful in his attempt to obtain horses such as we needed, but
hoped to do so the next day; and shortly after Le Brusquet departed,
taking Pierrebon with him, and my valise.
"Fast bind, safe find," he said as he pointed at Pierrebon; and then,
calling to his ape, went off.
Towards the appointed time I found myself close to the parvis of St.
Germain l'Auxerrois. For some reason or other there was a greater
crowd than usual, and I was compelled to halt for a moment. Just at
this moment a body of eight or ten horsemen came trotting rapidly
towards the Châtelet. Their leader all but rode over a child, and
would certainly have done so had I not made a long arm and pushed it
aside. There was no doubt of it, the leading horseman was my brother
Simon, the Vidame d'Orrain, and I thanked my good star that, owing to
the dusk, the bustle, and the pace he was going at, he did not
recognise me. Something, however, struck him, for twice he turned back
to look. I did not wait for a third glance, and, mixing with the
crowd, was lost to view.
At the gate of the tennis court I met Le Brusquet, and, passing through
a wicket, we entered the precincts of the Louvre.