CHICOT'S ASTONISHMENT AT FINDING HIMSELF SO POPULAR IN NERAC.
Chicot, having taken his resolution, began to prepare his little packet.
"How much time will it take me," thought he, as he did so, "to carry to
the king the news of what I have seen and fear? Two days to arrive at a
city whence the governor can send couriers; Cahors, for example, of
which Henri of Navarre thinks so much. Once there, I can rest, for after
all a man must rest some time. Come, then, Chicot, speed and sang froid.
You thought you had accomplished your mission, and you are but half-way
through it."
Chicot now extinguished the light, opened his door softly, and began to
creep downstairs on tip-toe.
He went into an antechamber, but he had hardly gone four steps before he
kicked against something. This something was D'Aubiac lying on a mat.
"Ah! good-evening, M. d'Aubiac," said Chicot, "but get out of the way a
little, I beg; I want to go for a walk."
"Ah! but it is forbidden to walk by night near this castle."
"Why so?"
"Because the king fears robbers, and the queen lovers."
"Diable!"
"None but robbers or lovers want to walk at night, when they ought to be
sleeping."
"However, dear M. d'Aubiac," said Chicot, with his most charming smile,
"I am neither the one nor the other, but an ambassador, very tired from
having talked Latin with the queen and supped with the king; let me go
out then, my friend, for I want a walk."
"In the city, M. Chicot?"
"Oh no! in the gardens."
"Peste! that is still more forbidden than in the city."
"My little friend, you are very vigilant for your age. Have you nothing
to occupy yourself with?"
"No."
"You neither gamble nor fall in love."
"To gamble one must have money, M. Chicot, and to be in love, one must
find a lady."
"Assuredly," said Chicot, and feeling in his pocket he drew out ten
pistoles and slipped them into the page's hand, saying, "Seek well in
your memory, and I bet you will find some charming woman, to whom I beg
you to make some presents with this."
"Oh, M. Chicot!" said the page, "it is easy to see that you come from
the court of France; you have manners to which one can refuse nothing:
go then, but make no noise."
Chicot went on; glided like a shadow into the corridor, and down the
staircase, but at the bottom he found an officer sleeping on a chair,
placed right against the door, so that it was impossible to pass.
"Ah! little wretch of a page," murmured Chicot, "you knew this."
Chicot looked round him to see if he could find no other way by which he
could escape with the assistance of his long legs. At last he saw what
he wanted: it was an arched window, of which the glass was broken.
Chicot climbed up the wall with his accustomed skill, and without making
more noise than a dry leaf in the autumn wind; but unluckily, the
opening was not big enough, so when he had got his head and one shoulder
through, and had taken away his foot from its resting place on the wall,
he found himself hanging between heaven and earth, without being able
either to advance or retreat.
He began then a series of efforts, of which the first result was to tear
his doublet and scratch his skin. What rendered his position more
difficult was his sword, of which the handle would not pass, making a
hook by which Chicot hung on to the sash. He exerted all his strength,
patience and industry, to unfasten the clasp of his shoulder-belt; but
it was just on this clasp that his body leaned, therefore he was obliged
to change his maneuver, and at last he succeeded in drawing his sword
from its sheath and pushing it through one of the interstices; the sword
therefore fell first on the flagstones, and Chicot now managed to get
through after it. All this, however, was not done without noise,
therefore Chicot, on rising, found himself face to face with a soldier.
[Illustration: CHICOT, ON RISING, FOUND HIMSELF FACE TO FACE WITH A
SOLDIER.]
"Ah! mon Dieu! have you hurt yourself, M. Chicot?" said he.
Chicot was surprised, but said, "No, my friend, not at all."
"That is very lucky; there are not many people who could do such a
thing."
"But how the devil did you know my name?"
"I saw you to-day at the palace, and asked who was the gentleman that
was talking with the king."
"Well! I am in a hurry; allow me to pass."
"But no one goes out of the palace by night; those are my orders."
"But you see they do come out, since I am here."
"Yes, but--"
"But what?"
"You must go back, M. Chicot."
"Oh! no."--"How! no?"
"Not by that way, at all events; it is too troublesome."
"If I were an officer instead of a soldier, I would ask you why you come
out so; but that is not my business, which is only that you should go
back again. Go in, therefore, M. Chicot, I beg you."
And the soldier said this in such a persuasive tone, that Chicot was
touched. Consequently he put his hand in his pocket and drew out another
ten pistoles.
"You must understand, my friend," said he, "that as I have torn my
clothes in passing through once, I should make them still worse by going
back again, and should have to go naked, which would be very indecent in
a court where there are so many young and pretty women; let me go then
to my tailor." And he put the money in his hand.
"Go quickly then, M. Chicot," said the man.
Chicot was in the street at last. The night was not favorable for
flight, being bright and cloudless, and he regretted the foggy nights of
Paris, where people might pass close to each other unseen. The
unfortunate fugitive had no sooner turned the corner of the street than
he met a patrol. He stopped of himself, thinking it would look
suspicious to try and pass unseen.
"Oh, good-evening, M. Chicot!" said the chief; "shall we reconduct you
to the palace? You seem as though you had lost your way."
"It is very strange," murmured Chicot, "every one knows me here." Then
aloud, and as carelessly as he could, "No, cornet, I am not going to the
palace."
"You are wrong, M. Chicot," replied the officer, gravely.
"Why so, monsieur?"
"Because a very severe edict forbids the inhabitants of Nerac to go out
at night without permission and without a lantern."
"Excuse me, monsieur, but this edict cannot apply to me, who do not
belong to Nerac."
"But you are at Nerac. Inhabitant means living at; now you cannot deny
that you live at Nerac, since I see you here."
"You are logical, monsieur. Unluckily, I am in a hurry; make an
exception to your rule, and let me pass, I beg."
"You will lose yourself, M. Chicot; Nerac is a strange town. Allow
three of my men to conduct you to the palace."
"But I am not going there, I tell you."
"Where are you going, then?"
"I cannot sleep well at night, and then I always walk. Nerac is a
charming city, and I wish to see it."
"My men shall conduct you where you please."
"Oh, monsieur, I would rather go alone."
"You will be assassinated."
"I have my sword."
"Ah, true; then you will be arrested for bearing arms."
Chicot, driven to despair, drew the officer aside, and said:
"Come, monsieur, you are young; you know what love is--an imperious
tyrant."
"Doubtless, M. Chicot."
"Well, cornet, I have a certain lady to visit."
"Where?"
"In a certain place."
"Young?"
"Twenty-three years old."
"Beautiful?"
"As the graces."
"I felicitate you, M. Chicot."
"Then you will let me pass?"
"It seems I must."
"And alone; I cannot compromise--"
"Of course not; pass on, M. Chicot."
"You are a gallant man, cornet. But how did you know me?"
"I saw you at the palace with the king. Apropos, which way are you
going?"
"Toward the Porte of Agen. Am I not in the right road?"
"Yes, go straight on; I wish you success."
"Thank you;" and Chicot went on. But before he had taken a hundred steps
he met the watch.
"Peste! this town is well guarded," thought Chicot.
"You cannot pass!" cried the provost, in a voice of thunder.
"But, monsieur, I want--"
"Ah, M. Chicot, is it you? In the streets in this cold?" asked the
officer.
"Ah, decidedly! It must be a bet," thought Chicot; and, bowing, he
tried to pass on.
"M. Chicot, take care!" said the provost.
"Take care of what?"
"You are going wrong; you are going toward the gates."
"Just so."
"Then I arrest you!"
"Not so, monsieur; you would be very wrong."
"However--"
"Approach, monsieur, that your soldiers may not hear."
The man approached.
"The king has given me a commission for the lieutenant of the Porte of
Agen."
"Ah!"
"That astonishes you?"
"Yes."
"It ought not, since you know me."
"I know you from having seen you at the palace with the king."
Chicot stamped his foot impatiently. "That should prove to you that I
possess the king's confidence."
"Doubtless; go on, M. Chicot, and execute your commission."
"Come," thought Chicot, "I advance slowly, but I do advance. Ventre de
biche! here is a gate; it must be that of Agen; in five minutes I shall
be out."
He arrived at the gate, which was guarded by a sentinel walking up and
down, his musket on his shoulder.
"My friend, will you open the gate for me?" said Chicot.
"I cannot, M. Chicot," replied the man, "being only a private soldier."
"You also know me?" cried Chicot in a rage.
"I have that honor; I was on guard at the palace this morning, and saw
you talking with the king."
"Well! my friend, the king has given me a very urgent message to convey
to Agen; open the postern for me."
"I would with pleasure, but I have not the keys."
"And who has them?"
"The officer for the night."
Chicot sighed.
"And where is he?"
The soldier rang a bell to wake his officer.
"What is it?" said he, passing his head through a window.
"Lieutenant, it is a gentleman who wants the gate opened."
"Ah! M. Chicot," cried the officer, "I will be down in a moment."
"What! does every one know me?" cried Chicot. "Nerac seems a lantern,
and I the candle."
"Excuse me, monsieur," said the officer, approaching, "but I was
asleep."
"Oh! monsieur, that is what night is made for; will you be good enough
to open the door. Unluckily, I cannot sleep, for the king, whom you
doubtless also saw me talking to--"
"Yes, I did, monsieur."
"Of course!" growled Chicot. "Well! the king has sent me on a commission
to Agen; this is the right gate, is it not?"
"Yes, M. Chicot."
"Will you please to have it opened?"
"Of course. Anthenas, open the gate quickly for M. Chicot."
Chicot began to breathe; the door creaked on its hinges, and opened, and
Chicot saw liberty through it.
"Adieu! monsieur," said he, advancing.
"Adieu! M. Chicot, a pleasant journey.--But stay, one moment; I have
forgotten to ask for your pass," cried he, seizing Chicot by the sleeve
to stop him.
"How! my pass?"
"Certainly, M. Chicot; you know what a pass is? You understand that no
one can leave a town like Nerac without a pass, particularly when the
king is in it."
"And who must sign this pass?"
"The king himself; so if he sent you he cannot have forgotten to give
you a pass."
"Ah! you doubt that the king sent me?" cried Chicot, with flashing eyes,
for he saw himself on the point of failing, and had a great mind to kill
the officer and sentinel, and rush through the gate.
"I doubt nothing you tell me, but reflect that if the king gave you this
commission--"
"In person, monsieur."
"All the more reason, then: if he knows you are going out, I shall have
to give up your pass to-morrow morning to the governor."--"And who is
he?"
"M. de Mornay, who does not jest with disobedience, M. Chicot."
Chicot put his hand to his sword, but another look showed him that the
outside of the gate was defended by a guard who would have prevented his
passing if he had killed the officer and sentinel.
"Well!" said Chicot to himself, with a sigh; "I have lost my game," and
he turned back.
"Shall I give you an escort, M. Chicot?" said the officer.
"No, thank you."
Chicot retraced his steps, but he was not at the end of his griefs. He
met the chief of the watch, who said, "What! have you finished your
commission already, M. Chicot? Peste! how quick you are!"
A little further on the cornet cried to him, "Well, M. Chicot, what of
the lady; are you content with Nerac?"
Finally, the soldier in the courtyard said, "Cordieu! M. Chicot, the
tailor has not done his work well; you seem more torn than when you went
out."
Chicot did not feel inclined to climb back through the window: but by
chance, or rather by charity, the door was opened, and he returned into
the palace. Here he saw the page, who said, "Dear M. Chicot, shall I
give you the key to all this?"
"Yes, serpent," murmured Chicot.
"Well! the king loves you so much, he did not wish to lose you."
"And you knew, and never told me?"
"Oh! M. Chicot, impossible! It was a state secret."
"But I paid you, knave."
"Oh! dear M. Chicot, the secret was worth more than ten pistoles."
Chicot returned to his room in a rage.