"By St. Quentin," I cried, "we will beat these Leaguers yet!"
He laughed, yet his eyes burned with determination.
"By St. Quentin, shall we! You and I, Félix, you and I alone will
overturn the whole League! We will show them what we are made of. They
think lightly of me. Why not? I never took part with my father. I lazed
about in these gay Paris houses, bent on my pleasure, too shallow a fop
even to take sides in the fight for a kingdom. What should they see in
me but an empty-headed roisterer, frittering away his life in follies?
But they will find I am something more. Well, enter there!"
He dropped back among the pillows, striving to look careless, as Maître
Menard, the landlord, opened the door and stood shuffling on the
threshold.
"Does M. le Comte sleep?" he asked me deferentially, though I think he
could not but have heard M. Étienne's tirading half-way down the
passage.
"Not yet," I answered. "What is it?"
"Why, a man came with a billet for M. le Comte and insisted it be sent
in. I told him Monsieur was not to be disturbed; he had been wounded and
was sleeping; I said it was not sense to wake him for a letter that
would keep till morning. But he would have it 'twas of instant import,
and so--"
"Oh, he is not asleep," I declared, eagerly ushering the maître in, my
mind leaping to the conclusion, for no reason save my ardent wish, that
Vigo had discovered our whereabouts.
"I dared not deny him further," added Maître Menard. "He wore the
liveries of M. de Mayenne."
"Of Mayenne," I echoed, thinking of what M. Étienne had said. "Pardieu,
it may be Lucas himself!" And snatching up my master's sword I dashed
out of the door and was in the cabaret in three steps.
The room contained some score of men, but I, peering about by the
uncertain candle-light, could find no one who in any wise resembled
Lucas. A young gamester seated near the door, whom my sudden entrance
had jostled, rose, demanding in the name of his outraged dignity to
cross swords with me. On any other day I had deemed it impossible to say
him nay, but now with a real vengeance, a quarrel à outrance on my
hands, he seemed of no consequence at all. I brushed him aside as I
demanded M. de Mayenne's man. They said he was gone. I ran out into the
dark court and the darker street.
A tapster, lounging in the courtyard, had seen my man pass out, and he
opined with much reason that I should not catch him. Yet I ran a hundred
yards up street and a hundred yards down street, shouting on the name of
Lucas, calling him coward and skulker, bidding him come forth and fight
me. The whole neighbourhood became aware than I wanted one Lucas to
fight: lights twinkled in windows; men, women, and children poured out
of doors. But Lucas, if it were he, had for the second time vanished
soft-footed into the night.
I returned with drooping tail to M. Étienne. He was alone, sitting up in
bed awaiting me, his cheeks scarlet, his eyes blazing.
"He is gone," I panted. "I looked everywhere, but he was gone. Oh, if I
caught Lucas--"
"You little fool!" he exclaimed. "This was not Lucas. Had you waited
long enough to hear your name called, I had told you. This is no errand
of Lucas but a very different matter."
He sat a moment, thinking, still with that glitter of excitement in his
eyes. The next instant he threw off the bedclothes and started to rise.
"Get my clothes, Félix. I must go to the Hôtel de Lorraine."
But I flung myself upon him, pushing him back into bed and dragging the
cover over him by main force.
"You can go nowhere, M. Étienne; it is madness. The surgeon said you
must lie here for three days. You will get a fever in your wounds; you
shall not go."
"Get off me, 'od rot you; you're smothering me," he gasped. Cautiously I
relaxed my grip, still holding him down. He appealed: "Félix, I must go.
So long as there is a spark of life left in me, I have no choice but to
go."
"Monsieur, you said you were done with the Leaguers--with M. de
Mayenne."
"Aye, so I did," he cried. "But this--but this is Lorance."
Then, at my look of mystification, he suddenly opened his hand and
tossed me the letter he had held close in his palm.