THE PORTE ST. MICHEL
Half-an-hour later, when I quitted the presence of the Queen, it was as
one to whom the world was opening afresh, and in that brief interval I
had felt and begun to understand the subtle intellect of Catherine, of
the existence of which few as yet were aware.
In regard to the mission with which I was entrusted I am pledged to
preserve silence. The people concerned in it are dead, and when I
follow them the secret will go with me. Let it suffice for me to say
that my task was such that a man of honour could accept, and that if I
failed the preservation of my skin was my own affair, for help I would
get from none. Hidden in the inner pocket of my vest was a dispatch to
Montluc, the King's lieutenant in the South. In my hand I openly bore
a letter, sealed with the _palle_ of the Medici, and addressed in the
Queen's own writing to the King. It was to be the means of my freeing
the gates of Paris if difficulty arose, and how it did so I shall
presently show.
I found my friends awaiting me, and Le Brusquet asked:
"Well, have you come forth a made man?"
"Monsieur, I will answer you that," I said with assumed gravity, "if
you will tell me who betrayed me to the Queen."
I looked from one to the other, and they both laughed.
"Behold the traitor, then!" And Le Brusquet pointed with his finger at
me.
"I?"
"Yes, you!--as if you had called it from the housetops. _Mon ami_, did
ever hear of a bourgeois handling sword as you, or bearing arms _un coq
d'or griffe de sable, en champ d'azur_? Those arms are on your
wine-cups--if they exist still--they are on the hilt of the sword you
lent me."
"_Morbleu_!"
"But that is not all. In the gay, red days, when Lorgnac here and I
had all the world before us, we were of the College of Cambrai. It is
true we entered as you left; but we knew you, and when all Paris was
full of your name Lorgnac and I, and others whom you knew not, aped the
fall of your cloak, the droop of your plume, the tilt of your sword.
Those days are gone, and until last night you, I thought, were gone
with them."
"Monsieur!"
"Listen! There is more yet. I but told the Queen of the arms you
bore. She recognised them at once."
"That is not strange; the Vidame d'Orrain is in Paris!"
"True! But she remembered your history--every detail of it. It was
long ago, and many things have happened, and the Seine there has rolled
much water under its bridges since then, but she had forgotten nothing.
My friend, they who say the Medicis ever forgets are fools--blind in
their folly. And so, for the sake of last night, and a little for the
days that have gone, we will see pretty things yet, God willing! Eh,
De Lorgnac?"
"I for one look forward to the day when a brave man will come to his
own," replied the other, and their kindness touched me to the quick.
I am not one gifted with the power of speech--indeed, I hold that the
greater the tongue the smaller the heart--but I found words to thank
these gallant gentlemen, and De Lorgnac said:
"Monsieur, it is enough thanks to hold us in your esteem, and we will
say no more about it. I have, however, some information that may be
useful. Your brother the Vidame left Paris this evening for the South,
it is said. Thus one danger is at any rate removed from your path."
It was something to know that Simon was gone. I thanked De Lorgnac,
and added:
"Now, messieurs, for my news. I know not if I have come forth from
that chamber"--and I pointed behind me--"a made man or not. This much
I know, I am the bearer of a letter, the delivery of which must not be
delayed, and I must leave Paris with the dawn, or before--horse or no
horse."
"The horses I said were my care," De Lorgnac said. And then turning to
Le Brusquet: "Await me on the steps that lead to the eastern gallery; I
am relieved in less than an hour. We will then take monsieur here to
my house, where there are two horses in the stables at his disposal,
and the rest concerns himself."
Le Brusquet and I went back as we came, his constant companion, the
ape, with us. Passing through the open arch I have already mentioned
we halted on the steps that lead from the balcony to the eastern wing,
and here we awaited De Lorgnac.
For a little there was a silence. Perhaps we were both impressed by
the scene. In front lay the river, a band of silver, with here and
there the twinkling, swaying lights of a crossing boat upon it. All
around was the great city, and from the distance there came a murmuring
hum of voices, like waves lapping upon a far-off shore. Around us,
towering above and ringing us in with its immense strength, rose the
Louvre, its vast outlines looking, if possible, larger and more
gigantic in the enchanted light.
After a space Le Brusquet began to speak of the Vidame, my brother, and
so we passed the time in converse until De Lorgnac came. He bade us
haste if we wished to quit the Louvre ere the pontlevis were raised,
and hurrying after him we made our way to the southern gate, the only
one open. As we went onwards the desolation that marked the entrance
to the Queen's apartments was no longer visible. Ever and again we
were stopped and challenged by sentries.
"_Hein_!" exclaimed Le Brusquet, "the Scots archers keep good ward."
"Quick! Hurry!" was De Lorgnac's answer. "There goes the first signal
for closing the gates!"
And as he spoke a clarion rang out shrilly. We had reached the outer
court by this, and were hurrying for the bridge that led to the
pontlevis when we saw a tall man, his cuirass glittering like silver in
the moonlight, step out of the shadow and signal to a trumpeter, who
stood at his side.
"A moment, De Lorges. Stay!" And Lorgnac ran up to him. "Faith! but
your time is punctual."
Montgomery de Lorges laughed as he laid a restraining hand on his
trumpeter. "I have more than half a mind to give the signal," he said.
"There is a rare flagon of Arbois in my apartment, and you would have
been forced to share it. Come, change your mind and stay."
"Thanks; but I cannot. We are bound to my house, where you are very
welcome if you care to come."
"And leave my post? No, no!"
"Au revoir, then."
"Au revoir."
And we passed over the bridge. Almost had we freed it when the trumpet
sounded again, and with a rattling of chains the huge pontlevis rose.
"Faith! 'twas a narrow thing. Had we been but a minute later the Scot
would have barred all egress." And Le Brusquet looked back at the gate
through which we had passed. It lay on the other side of the
pontlevis--the fosse between us--and was of angular shape, surmounted
by a statue of Charles V. of France, and, as De Lorgnac said, was
already doomed to destruction to make way for the improvements
contemplated by the King.
It was midnight now, and the streets were almost deserted, though here
and there were groups of people collected together for mutual
protection. As time was short we decided to take the Rue St. Thomas du
Louvre despite its ill-paved and noisome condition. Passing the
fountain near the Marché des Innocents we turned up by the St. Eustache
into the Tiquetonne, and thence Rue Tire Boudin was but a short step.
I need not say with what joy the good Pierrebon received me, and after
a light supper--in which, I fear, I did but scant justice to De
Lorgnac's Joué--I determined to snatch an hour or so of rest before
starting. Before doing so, however, Lorgnac took me to see the horses.
They looked what he said they were--good, stout roadsters. I asked him
his price, but, as I expected from one of his generous nature, he
offered them to me as a gift. This I was determined not to accept, and
finally, after much persuasion, he took forty crowns of the sun for the
two. This was barely their worth, but nothing would induce him to
accept a denier more.
The valise I had packed contained the requisites for a journey, and
having changed my attire I decided to take such rest as I could get in
a chair until it was time to start. I seemed to have barely closed my
eyes when I was awakened again by the touch of a hand on my shoulder.
It was Le Brusquet.
"_Eh bien_," he said, "but you sleep like an honest man! It has gone
three. The horses are ready, and De Lorgnac and Pierrebon await you
below. Come!"
So saying he led the way down. We had to go to the stables, and in the
yard were the two horses ready saddled. Lorgnac was also there, and to
my surprise I saw that he too was mounted.
"I will see you to the gates," he explained as he caressed his horse, a
magnificent grey charger.
"And as for me," said Le Brusquet, "I will wish you good fortune here,
and a safe return, and the sword you lent me is in secure keeping."
And so we rode out in the grey darkness of the morning through the
solitary streets, where there was never a sign of life except an
occasional dog, which--homeless and friendless--stared wistfully after
us as we went past. I had decided to leave Paris by the Porte St.
Michel, and this all the more as the captain of the gate--the Vicomte
de Créquy--was a near relative of De Lorgnac, and the passage through
might, perhaps, be made easier on this score. It was still dark as we
trotted down the Rue de la Harpe under the shadow of the Sorbonne,
having passed the Pont au Change and the Pont St. Michel without
difficulty, although we expected some check there.
On our coming up to the Porte St. Michel the guard challenged us,
threatening to fire with his arquebus if we did not halt. This we were
compelled to do, and a parley ensued. The result was that the
under-officer of the guard came forth, with two or three of his men,
and allowed us to approach.
On our coming up, and on my explaining that I desired to have the gates
opened, he swore as he surveyed us with the aid of a lantern that he
swung in our faces.
"_Mordieu_!" he said, with a rough southern accent--and a grim old
soldier he was--"are you madmen, or have you dropped from the clouds,
not to know that the gates are shut and will not be opened till
sunrise?"
"That may be, monsieur," I replied; "but I have a letter to the
King--to the King, mind you--which he must get ere he starts for the
hunt."
"_He_!" he said doubtfully. "A letter to the King! You will have to
take it on wings, then. But from whom is this letter?" he added
suspiciously.
"That, monsieur, does not concern you. The fact remains that I have
this letter, and it is you who will have to answer for its late
delivery, not I."
"Then let me see it."
I pulled out the letter and showed it to him, without, however, letting
it pass from my hands. He cast the light of the lantern on it, and
looked this way and that at the seals and at the address, muttering to
himself the while.
"Devil take me! But I never could read. Here! Can any one of you
read this?" And he turned to his men, but they one and all shook their
heads.
"I will read it for you if you like," said De Lorgnac as he pushed his
horse forwards.
"You!"
"Yes. I am Monsieur de Lorgnac, the lieutenant of the Queen's guard."
The old soldier made a mock bow. "And I," he said, "am Agrippa
Pavanes, without a _De_, lieutenant of the Gate of St. Michel; and your
friend there is, I suppose, Monsieur _de_ Croquemort, lieutenant of
Trouands. And, as we all know each other now, I tell you plainly you
must hold patience by the tail as best you may until the gates are
opened. Letter or no letter, I will not let you through."
And so saying he would have turned away, but Lorgnac said quietly:
"You will be good enough, monsieur, to inform Monsieur de Créquy that I
am here and desire to see him at once."
Agrippa Pavanes swung round and faced us, his hand on his sword-hilt.
"I am in charge of this gate at present, and I will act as I think
best. I may not be able to read or write, but if you do not be off I
will make a full stop on you with the point of my sword," he snarled.
Affairs were getting serious. Nor do I know what might have happened,
but at this juncture a head appeared at a window in one of the flanking
towers of the gate, and an angry and a sleepy voice asked what was the
matter below.
"It is I, Créquy," began De Lorgnac, and the other exclaimed:
"You! What in the--saints' name--brings you here, De Lorgnac, at this
hour of the night, or rather morning? Is it not enough that I am
banished here to keep watch over this infernal gate? And now you----"
"Come, Créquy; this is a matter of urgency. There is a letter here
from the Queen which must reach the King before the _petit couvert_,
and your lieutenant will not let the messenger pass through the gates."
"He is quite right! But a letter from the Queen, did you say?"
"Yes; and to the King in person. Come down, and see for yourself."
"Not I; I am in my shirt, and my health is delicate. Send up the
letter. Pavanes, do me the favour to bring it up."
I handed the letter to Agrippa, who took it up, with very much the
surly air of a dog walking away with a bone. A moment after he too
appeared at the window with his light, and Créquy examined the letter
and the seals.
"'Tis right, Pavanes," we heard him say; "'tis the Queen's own hand and
seal. Let the messenger through." And leaning out of the window he
repeated the same to us.
De Lorgnac thanked him, regretting, at the same time, the necessity he
had of arousing him; and Créquy swore back, in mock tones of injury,
that he would have a special cell built for disturbers of his rest,
and, wishing us the day, retired abruptly.
Agrippa carried out his orders with an ill grace, and made no answer to
my thanks; so, bidding farewell to De Lorgnac, I put spurs to my horse,
and, followed by Pierrebon, rode out of Paris.