it by sitting upon the end; the ladder was a frail support, but the
daring youth was light. The student, hardly daring to breathe, thought
that he wavered for an instant; but he passed quickly over the narrow
space that separated him from the wall, and arrived there safe and
sound. He was still in very great danger if any of the besieged should
happen to espy him, but his anticipations were verified.
"No one in sight," he shouted to his companion,--"no one!"
"If that is so," said Aubry, "on with the dance!"
And he ventured upon the narrow, trembling path, while Ascanio, putting
his whole weight upon the other end of the ladder, repaid the service
rendered him. As he was as light and as active as Ascanio, he was at his
side in an instant.
Both of them sat astride the wall and drew the ladder across; they then
made fast the other end of the rope to it, and lowered it, swinging it
out so that the lower end would rest on the ground at a safe distance
from the wall; lastly, Ascanio, who had won the privilege of making
experiments, took the rope in both hands and slid down until his feet
rested upon the topmost round of the ladder; another second and he was
on the ground.
Jacques Aubry followed him with similar good fortune, and the two
friends found themselves in the garden.
It was plainly advisable for them to act at once. All their manœuvring
had taken considerable time, and Ascanio was fearful lest his absence
and Aubry's had been prejudicial to the master's interests. Drawing
their swords as they ran, they hastened to the door leading into the
first courtyard, where the garrison should be, assuming that they had
not changed their position. When they reached the door, Ascanio put his
eye to the keyhole, and saw that the courtyard was empty.
"Benvenuto has succeeded," he cried; "the garrison has gone out. The
hotel is ours!" and he tried to open the door, which proved to be
locked.
Both of the young men put forth all their strength in an effort to force
it.
"This way! this way!" exclaimed a voice, which found an echo in
Ascanio's heart: "this way, Monsieur!"
He turned and saw Colombe at a window on the ground floor. In two bounds
he was at her side.
"Aha!" exclaimed Jacques Aubry, following him; "it seems that we have
friends in the citadel! Aha! you didn't tell me that, my boy!"
"Oh! save my father, Monsieur Ascanio!" cried Colombe, without any
indication of surprise at the young man's appearance, and as if his
presence were the most natural thing in the world. "They are fighting
outside, do you know, and it's all for me, all on my account! O mon
Dieu! mon Dieu! grant that they kill not one another!"
"Have no fear," said Ascanio, darting into the apartment, which had a
door leading into the little courtyard; "have no fear, I will answer for
everything!"
"Have no fear," said Jacques Aubry, following at his heels; "have no
fear, we will answer for everything!"
As he entered the room Ascanio heard his name called a second time, but
by a voice much less musical than the other.
"Who calls me?" he said.
"I, my young friend," the same voice replied, with a most pronounced
Teutonic accent.
"Pardieu!" cried Aubry, "'t is our Goliath! What the deuce are you doing
in that hen-roost?" he added, looking through the window of the
gardener's shed, at which he saw a face which he recognized as
Hermann's.
"I haf found myself here, but I know not how I haf here come. Draw the
bolt, that I may go and fight. Quick, quick, quick! my hand itches."
"There you are!" said the student, rendering Hermann the service he
requested.
Meanwhile Ascanio was hurrying toward the door opening on the quay,
where he could hear a tremendous clashing of swords. When naught but the
thickness of the wood separated him from the combatants, he feared that,
if he showed himself at that moment, he might fall into the hands of his
enemies, so he first looked out through the grated wicket. There he saw
Cellini facing him, eager, excited and thirsting for the blood of his
antagonist, and realized that Messire Robert was lost. He picked up the
key, which lay on the ground, opened the door quickly, and thinking of
nothing save his promise to Colombe, received in his shoulder the blow
which, but for him, would inevitably have transfixed the provost.
We have already witnessed the result of that occurrence. Benvenuto, in
desperation, threw himself upon Ascanio's neck; Hermann imprisoned the
provost in the same cage from which he had just been set free himself;
and Jacques Aubry, perched upon the rampart, flapped his wings and
crowed lustily in honor of the victory.
The victory was in very truth complete; the provost's people, when their
master was made prisoner, did not even try to dispute it, but laid down
their arms.
Accordingly the goldsmiths all entered the courtyard of the Grand-Nesle,
thenceforth their property, and secured the door behind them, leaving
the archers and sergeants outside.
Benvenuto, however, took no part in the latter proceedings; he still
held Ascanio in his arms, having removed his coat of mail, torn away his
doublet, and finally reached the wound, and was stanching the flow of
blood with his handkerchief.
"My Ascanio, my child!" he said again and again; "wounded, wounded by
me! what will thy mother in heaven say? Forgive me, Stefana, forgive me!
Art thou in pain? tell me. Does my hand hurt thee? Will this accursed
blood never stop? A surgeon, quickly! Pray, will not some one call a
surgeon?"
Jacques Aubry ran out of the courtyard at the top of his speed.
"It is nothing, dear master, it is nothing," said Ascanio; "a mere
scratch on my arm.--Don't feel so terribly, for I assure you it's
nothing."
The surgeon, brought to the hotel by Jacques Aubry five minutes later,
confirmed Ascanio's assurance that the wound was not dangerous, although
quite deep, and at once set about bandaging it.
"Ah! what a weight you lift from my heart!" said Cellini. "Then I am not
thy murderer, dear child! But what is the matter, my Ascanio? thy pulse
is beating madly, and the blood rushing to thy face! O Monsieur le
Chirurgien, we must take him away from here,--the fever is laying hold
of him."
"No, no, master," said Ascanio, "on the contrary I feel much better.
Leave me here, leave me here, I implore you!"
"My father?" suddenly inquired a voice behind Benvenuto, which made him
jump; "what have you done with my father?"
Benvenuto turned and saw Colombe, pale and rigid, seeking the provost
with her glance, as she asked for him with her voice.
"Oh! he is safe and sound, Mademoiselle! safe and sound, thanks be to
Heaven!" cried Ascanio.
"Thanks be to this poor boy, who received the blow intended for him,"
said Benvenuto, "for you may truly say that this gallant fellow saved
your life, Monsieur le Prévôt.--How's this? where are you, Messire
Robert?" exclaimed Cellini, looking about for the provost, whose
disappearance he could not understand.
"He is here, master," said Hermann.
"Where, pray?"
"Here, in the little prison."
"O Monsieur Benvenuto!" cried Colombe, darting to the shed with a
gesture of mingled entreaty and reproach.
"Open, Hermann," said Cellini.
Hermann obeyed, and the provost appeared in the doorway, somewhat
humiliated by his misadventure. Colombe threw herself into his arms.
"O father! father!" she cried; "are you not wounded? has no harm
befallen you?" and as she spoke she looked at Ascanio.
"No," said the provost in his harsh voice, "no, thank Heaven! nothing
has happened to me."
"And--and--" queried Colombe, in a faltering tone, "is it true that this
youth--"
"I cannot deny that he arrived at just the right time."
"Yes," interposed Cellini, "yes, at the right time to receive the sword
thrust which I intended for you, Monsieur le Prévôt. Yes, Mademoiselle
Colombe, yes," he added, "you owe your father's life to this brave
fellow, and if Monsieur le Prévôt doesn't proclaim it from the
housetops, he is an ingrate as well as a liar."
"I trust that his rescuer will not have to pay too dearly for his
gallantry," rejoined Colombe, blushing at her own audacity.
"O Mademoiselle!" cried Ascanio, "I would gladly have shed all my blood
in such a cause!"
"Well, well, Messire le Prévôt," said Cellini, "see what tender
emotions you have caused to spring up. But Ascanio may not be able to
bear the excitement. The bandage is in place, and it would be well for
him, I think, to take a little rest now."
What Benvenuto had said to the provost of the service rendered him by
the wounded man was no more than the truth; and as every truth has an
innate strength of its own, the provost in his heart could but admit
that he owed his life to Ascanio. He therefore put a good face on the
matter, and approached the wounded man, saying:--
"Young man, an apartment in my hotel is at your service."
"In your hotel, Messire Robert!" exclaimed Cellini, with a laugh, for
his good humor returned as his anxiety on Ascanio's account vanished;
"in your hotel? Why, do you really wish to begin the battle over again?"
"What!" cried the provost, "do you claim the right to turn my daughter
and myself out of doors?"
"By no means, Messire. You now occupy the Petit-Nesle. Very good! keep
the Petit-Nesle, and let us live on such terms as good neighbors should.
Be good enough, Messire, to make no opposition to Ascanio's being at
once made comfortable in the Grand-Nesle, where we will join him this
evening. Thereafter, if you prefer war--"
"O father!" cried Colombe.
"No! peace!" said the provost.
"There can be no peace without conditions, Monsieur le Prévôt. Do me
the honor to accompany me to the Grand-Nesle, or the favor to receive me
at the Petit, and we will draw up our treaty."
"I will go with you, Monsieur," said the provost.
"So be it!"
"Mademoiselle," said D'Estourville then to his daughter, "be good enough
to return to your apartments and await my return there."
Colombe, notwithstanding the harsh tone in which this command was
uttered, presented her forehead to her father to kiss, and with a
courtesy addressed to everybody present, so that Ascanio might come in
for a share of it, she withdrew.
Ascanio followed her with his eyes until she disappeared. As there was
nothing further to detain him in the courtyard, he asked to be taken
inside. Hermann thereupon took him under the arms as if he were a child,
and transported him to the Grand-Nesle.
"On my word, Messire Robert," said Benvenuto, who had also looked after
the maiden while she was in sight, "on my word! you were very judicious
to send my late prisoner away, and I thank you for the precaution,--on
my honor I do. I am free to say that Mademoiselle Colombe's presence
might have been prejudicial to my interests by making me too weak, and
too willing to forget that I am a victor, to remember simply that I am
an artist,--that is to say, a lover of every perfect form and of all
divine beauty."
Messire d'Estourville acknowledged the compliment by a decidedly
ungracious contortion of his features; he followed the goldsmith,
however, without outwardly manifesting his ill-humor, but mumbling dire
threats beneath his breath. Cellini, to put the finishing touch to his
mortification, begged him to go over his new abode with him. The
invitation was conveyed in such courteous terms that it was impossible
to decline. The provost therefore accompanied his neighbor, who showed
him no mercy, and left not a corner of the garden nor a room in the
château unvisited.
"Ah! this is truly magnificent," said Benvenuto when they had finished
the tour of inspection, during which they were actuated by widely
opposed emotions. "Now, Monsieur le Prévôt, I can understand and
excuse your repugnance to give up this property; but I need not say that
you will be most welcome whenever you may choose, as to-day, to do me
the honor of calling upon me in my poor abode."
"You forget, Monsieur, that I am here to-day for no other purpose than
to listen to your conditions and state my own. I am ready to listen."
"How so, Messire Robert? On the contrary, I am at your service. But if
you choose to allow me first to make known my wishes to you, you will
then be free to give expression to your own."
"Say on."
"First of all, the one essential clause."
"What is that?"
"It is this:--
"ARTICLE I.--Messire Robert d'Estourville doth concede Benvenuto
Cellini's right to the property called the Grand-Nesle, doth freely
abandon it to him, and doth renounce all claim thereto forever, for
himself and his heirs."
"Accepted," said the provost. "But if it should please the king to take
from you what he has now taken from me, and to give to some other what
he has now given to you, I am not to be held responsible."
"Ouais!" said Cellini, "there's some mischievous mental reservation
hidden in that, Monsieur le Prévôt. But no matter; I shall know how to
retain what I have won. Let us pass to the next."
"'T is my turn," said the provost.
"That is no more than fair."
"ARTICLE II.--Benvenuto Cellini agrees to make no attack upon the
Petit-Nesle, which is and is to remain the property of Robert
d'Estourville; furthermore, he will not even attempt to gain a footing
there as a neighbor, and under the guise of friendship."
"Very good," said Benvenuto, "although the clause is by no means
conceived in kindness; but if the door is thrown open to me I shall not
show myself so devoid of courtesy as to refuse to enter."
"I will give orders to avert that possibility," retorted the provost.
"Let us to the next."
"I continue:--
"ARTICLE III.--The first courtyard, between the Grand and Petit Nesles,
shall be common to both estates."
"That is quite right," said Benvenuto, "and you will do me the justice
to believe that if Mademoiselle Colombe desires to go out, I shall not
keep her a prisoner."
"Oh! never fear: my daughter will go in and out by a door which I
undertake to have cut in the wall. I simply wish to make sure of an
entrance for carriages and wagons."
"Is that all?"
"Yes," replied Messire Robert. "Apropos," he added, "I trust that you
will allow me to remove my furniture."
"That is no more than fair. Your furniture is yours, as the Grand-Nesle
is mine. Now, Messire le Prévôt, let us add one more clause to the
treaty,--a clause purely benevolent in its purpose."
"State it."
"ARTICLE IV. and last.--Messire Robert d'Estourville and Benvenuto
Cellini lay aside all ill will, and loyally and sincerely agree to abide
in peace."
"I accept the article, but only in so far as it does not bind me to bear
aid to you against those who may attack you. I agree to do nothing to
injure you, but I do not agree to make myself agreeable to you."
"As to that, Monsieur le Prévôt, you know perfectly well that I can
defend myself alone, do you not? If there is no objection now on your
part," added Cellini, passing the pen to him, "sign, Monsieur le
Prévôt, sign." "I will sign," said the provost, suiting the action to
the word, and each of the contracting parties retained a copy of the
treaty.
This formality at an end, Messire d'Estourville returned to the
Petit-Nesle, being in great haste to scold poor Colombe for her rash
expedition. Colombe hung her head, and let him say what he chose, not
hearing a single word of his reproaches; for during all the time that
they endured the girl was engrossed by a single longing, to ask her
father for news of Ascanio. But it was useless: try as hard as she
would, she could not force the wounded youth's name beyond her lips.
While these things were taking place on one side of the wall, on the
other side, Catherine, who had been sent for from the church, made her
entry into the Grand-Nesle; the fascinating madcap threw herself into
Benvenuto's arms, pressed Ascanio's hand, complimented Hermann, made
sport of Pagolo, laughed, wept, sang, asked questions, all in the same
breath. She had suffered terribly, for the reports of fire-arms had
reached her ears and interrupted her prayers again and again. But now
everything was all right, everybody had come out safe and sound from the
battle, save four dead and three wounded men, and Scozzone's high
spirits did homage to both victory and victors.
When the uproar caused by Catherine's arrival had subsided in some
measure, Ascanio remembered the motive which brought the student to the
spot so opportunely. He turned to Benvenuto and said:--
"Master, my comrade Jacques Aubry and I were to try our hands at a game
of tennis to-day. In good sooth, I am hardly in condition to be his
partner, as our friend Hermann says. He has assisted us so gallantly in
our undertaking, however, that I venture to beg you to take my place."
"With all my heart," said Benvenuto; "but you must look to yourself,
Master Jacques Aubry."
"I will try, I will try, Messire."
"We shall sup together afterward, and you know that the victor will be
expected to drink two bottles more than his vanquished opponent."
"Which means that I shall be carried home dead drunk, Master Benvenuto.
_Vive la joie!_ this suits me. Ah! the devil! there's Simonne waiting
for me, too! Pshaw! I had to wait for her last Sunday. It's her turn
to-day, so much the worse for her."
With that the two seized balls and rackets, and hied them to the garden.
XI
OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES
As this was the blessed Sabbath day, Benvenuto did nothing more than
play tennis, rest after playing, and inspect his new property. But on
the following day the work of moving began, and was fully completed two
days later, by virtue of the assistance of his new companions. On the
third day Benvenuto resumed his modelling as calmly as if nothing had
happened.
When the provost realized that he was definitively vanquished, when he
learned that Benvenuto's studio, tools, and workmen were actually
installed at the Grand-Nesle, rage took possession of him once more, and
he began to plot and plan for vengeance. He was in one of his most
wrathful moments when the Vicomte de Marmagne surprised him on the
morning of this same third day, Wednesday. Marmagne could not resist the
longing to gratify his vanity by triumphing over the sorrows and
reverses of his friends, as every man who is a coward and an idiot loves
to do.
"Well!" he said, "I told you so, my dear Provost."
"Ah! is it you, Viscount? Good morning."
"Well! was I right or wrong?"
"Alas! right. Are you well?"
"At all events I have no reason to reproach myself in this accursed
business. I gave you sufficient warning."
"Has the king returned to the Louvre?"
"'Nonsense!' you said; 'a workman, a nobody, a fine sight it will be!'
You have seen it, my poor friend."
"I asked you if his Majesty has returned from Fontainebleau?"
"Yes, and he keenly regrets not having reached Paris on Sunday, in order
to look on from one of his towers at his goldsmith's victory over his
provost."
"What is said at court?"
"Why, they say that you were thoroughly whipped."
"Hum!" said the provost, who began to be annoyed by this desultory
conversation.
"How was it? Did he really give you such an ignominious whipping?"
"Why--"
"He killed two of your men, did he not?"
"I think so."
"If you wish to replace them, I have two Italian bravos, consummate
fighting-men, who are quite at your service. You will have to pay them
well, but they are sure men."
"We shall see: I won't say no. If not for myself, I may require them for
my son-in-law, Comte d'Orbec."
"Whatever they may say, I cannot believe that this Benvenuto cudgelled
you personally."
"Who says so?"
"Everybody. Some are indignant, like myself; others laugh, like the
king."
"Enough! we have not seen the end of this affair."
"Ah! you were very wrong to compromise yourself with such a clown, and
for such a paltry affair!"
"I shall fight for my honor henceforth."
"If there had been a woman in the affair, why, you might properly have
drawn your sword against such people: but for a mere place to sleep
in--"
"The Hôtel de Nesle is a place for princes to sleep in."
"Agreed; but even so, think of exposing yourself for such a matter to be
chastised by a blackguard!"
"Ah! I have an idea, Marmagne," said the provost. "Parbleu! you are so
devoted to me that I long to render you a friendly service, and I am
delighted to have the opportunity now. For a nobleman, and secretary to
the king, you are wretchedly located on Rue de la Huchette, my dear
Viscount. Now I recently requested for a friend of mine, from the
Duchesse d'Etampes, who refuses nothing that I ask, apartments in such
one of the king's palaces as my friend might select. I obtained the
privilege for him, not without difficulty, but it so happens that he has
been called to Spain on urgent business. I have therefore at my disposal
the document signed by the king containing this grant of apartments. I
cannot make use of it myself; will you have it? I should be happy to
acknowledge thus your services and your generous friendship."
"Dear D'Estourville, how can I ever repay you? It is quite true that I
am living in very unsuitable quarters, and I have complained to the king
a score of times."
"I shall insist upon one condition."
"What is that?"
"That, inasmuch as you are at liberty to take your choice among all the
royal hotels, you will choose--"
"Go on, I am waiting."
"The Hôtel de Nesle."
"Aha! you were laying a trap for me."
"Not at all; and to show you that I am speaking seriously, here is the
document, duly signed by his Majesty, with the necessary blanks for the
name of the beneficiary, and of the place selected. I will write the
Hôtel du Grand-Nesle, and leave you to insert such names as you
choose."
"But this damned Benvenuto?"
"Is entirely off his guard, relying upon a treaty we entered into and
signed. Whoever cares to enter will find the doors open, and if on a
Sunday he will find the rooms empty. In any event, it's not a matter of
turning Benvenuto out, but simply of sharing the Grand-Nesle with him;
for it is quite large enough for three or four families. Benvenuto will
hear reason.--Well! what are you doing now?"
"I am writing my names and titles in the grant. Do you see?"
"Beware! Benvenuto is more to be feared than you think."
"Bah! I will take my two fire-eaters and surprise him some Sunday."
"What! compromise yourself with a clown for such a trifling matter?"
"A victor is always right; and then, too, I shall be avenging a friend."
"Good luck to you then; I have given you fair warning, Marmagne."
"Thanks twice over,--once for the gift and once for the warning."
And Marmagne, delighted beyond measure, thrust the precious paper in his
pocket, and set out in all haste to make sure of his two bravos.
"Very good!" said Messire d'Estourville, rubbing his hands and looking
after him. "Go on, Viscount, and one of two things will come of
it,--either you will avenge me for Benvenuto's victory, or Benvenuto
will avenge me for your sarcasm, in any case, I shall be the gainer. I
make my enemies of each other; let them fight and kill; I will
applaud every blow on either side, for all will be equally gratifying to
me."
Let us now cross the Seine and look in upon the occupants of the
Grand-Nesle, and see how they were employing their time, pending the
results of the provost's militant hatred.
Benvenuto, in the tranquil confidence of conscious strength, had quietly
resumed the work he had in hand, without suspecting or caring for
Messire d'Estourville's animosity. His day was divided thus. He rose at
daybreak, and went at once to a small, isolated room that he had
discovered in the garden, above the foundry, with a window from which
one could look obliquely into the flower garden of the Petit-Nesle;
there he worked during the forenoon upon the model of a small statue of
Hebe. After dinner, that is to say, at one o'clock in the afternoon, he
went to the studio and worked at his Jupiter; in the evening, for
relaxation, he played a game of tennis, or went for a walk.
Now let us see how Catherine employed her time. She sewed and sang and
ran hither and thither, instinct with joyous life, much more at her ease
in the Grand-Nesle than at the Cardinal of Ferrara's palace.
Ascanio, whose wound made it impossible for him to work, did not find
the time irksome, notwithstanding the activity of his mind, for he was
dreaming.