TRUST TO SIGNS OF GRATITUDE.
Tapin at first thought that it was the Chevalier de Chanlay, but it was
only a woman who wanted a pint of wine.
"What has happened to poor M. Bourguignon?" asked she. "He has just been
taken away in a coach."
"Alas!" said Tapin, "we were far from expecting it. He was standing
there talking, and was suddenly seized with apoplexy."
"Gracious heavens!"
"We are all mortal," said Tapin, throwing up his eyes.
"But why did they take the little girl?"
"To attend to her father--it is her duty."
"But the servant?"
"To cook for them."
"Ah, I could not understand it all, so I came to buy a pint of wine,
though I did not want it, that I might find out."
"Well, now you know."
"Yes, but who are you?"
"I am Champagne, Bourguignon's cousin. I arrived by chance this
morning; I brought him news of his family, and the sudden joy overcame
him; ask Grabigeon," continued Tapin, showing his assistant, who was
finishing an omelet commenced by the landlord's daughter.
"Oh, yes, everything passed exactly as M. Champagne says," replied
Grabigeon, wiping away a tear with the handle of his spoon.
"Poor M. Bourguignon! then you think that we should pray for him?"
"There is never any harm in praying," said Tapin, sententiously.
"Ah, stop a minute, give me good measure."
Bourguignon would have groaned in spirit, could he have seen the wine
that Tapin gave for her two sous.
"Well," said she, "I will go and tell the neighbors, who are very
anxious, and I promise you my custom, M. Champagne; indeed, if M.
Bourguignon were not your cousin, I would tell you what I think."
"Oh, tell me, never mind that."
"I perceive that he cheated me shamefully. What you have given me for
two sous, he would hardly have given me for four; but if there is no
justice here there is in heaven, and it is very providential that you
are to continue his business."
"I believe so," said Tapin, in a half voice, "particularly for his
customers."
And he dismissed the woman just as the door opened, and a young man
entered, dressed in a blue cloak.
"Is this the hotel Le Muids d'Amour?" asked he.
"Yes, monsieur."
"Does Captain la Jonquiere lodge here?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Is he within?"
"Yes, he has just returned."
"Tell him, if you please, that the Chevalier Gaston de Chanlay is here."
Tapin offered the chevalier a chair, and went into La Jonquiere's room.
Gaston shook the snow from his boots and cloak, and proceeded leisurely
to examine the picture on the wall, never supposing that he had close to
him three or four swords, which, at a sign from the polite host, would
leave their sheaths to be plunged into his breast.
Tapin returned, saying, "Captain la Jonquiere waits for M. de Chanlay."
Gaston proceeded to the room where sat a man whom the host pointed out
as Captain la Jouquiere, and--without being much of a physiognomist--he
perceived at once that he was no bully.
Little, dry, gray-eyed, uneasy in his uniform, such appeared the
formidable captain whom Gaston had been recommended to treat with so
much consideration.
"This man is ugly, and looks like a sexton," thought Gaston; then, as
the stranger advanced toward him--
"Have I the honor of speaking to Captain la Jonquiere?" asked Gaston.
"Himself," said Dubois; "and are you M. le Chevalier Gaston de
Chanlay?"----"I am, monsieur."
"Have you the sign of recognition?" asked the false La Jonquiere.
"Here is the half of the gold piece."
"And here the other," said Dubois.
They tried the two, which fitted exactly.
"And now," continued Gaston, "the papers;" and he drew from his pocket
the strangely folded paper, on which was written the name of La
Jonquiere.
Dubois took from his pocket a similar paper, bearing Gaston's name: they
were precisely alike.
"Now," said Gaston, "the pocket-book."
They found that their new pocket-books were precisely similar, and both,
though new, contained an almanac for the year 1700, nineteen years
previous.
"And now, monsieur," said Gaston.
"Now we will talk of business: is not that your meaning, chevalier?"
"Exactly; are we safe?"
"As though in a desert."
They seated themselves by a table, on which were a bottle of sherry and
two glasses.
Dubois filled one, and was about to fill the other, when Gaston stopped
him.
"Peste!" thought Dubois, "he is slender and sober, bad signs; Caesar
mistrusted thin people who did not drink, and Brutus and Cassius were
such."
"Captain," said Gaston, after a short silence, "when we undertake, as
now, an affair in which we risk our heads, I think we should know each
other, so that the past may vouch for the future. Montlouis, Talhouet,
De Couedic, and Pontcalec have told you my name and condition. I was
brought up by a brother, who had reasons for personal hatred to the
regent. This hatred I have imbibed; therefore, three years ago, when the
league was formed among the nobility in Bretagne, I entered the
conspiracy; now I have been chosen to come to Paris to receive the
instructions of Baron de Valef, who has arrived from Spain, to transmit
them to the Duc d'Olivares, his Catholic Majesty's agent in Paris, and
to assure myself of his assent."
"And what is Captain la Jonquiere to do in all this?" asked Dubois, as
though he were doubting the chevalier's identity.
"To present me to the Duc d'Olivares. I arrived two hours ago; since
then I have seen M. de Valef, and now I come to you. Now you know my
history."
Dubois listened, and, when Gaston had finished--"As to me, chevalier,"
said he, throwing himself back indolently in his chair, "I must own my
history is somewhat longer and more adventurous; however, if you wish to
hear it, I obey."
"I think it necessary, in our position, to know each other," said
Gaston.
"Well," said Dubois, "as you know, I am called Captain la Jonquiere; my
father was, like myself, a soldier of fortune; this is a trade at which
one gains in general a good deal of glory and very little money; my
glorious father died, leaving me, for sole inheritance, his rapier and
his uniform; I girded on the rapier, which was rather too long, and I
wore the uniform, which was rather too large. From that time," said
Dubois, calling the chevalier's attention to the looseness of his coat,
"from that time I contracted the habit of always having plenty of room
to move easily."
Gaston nodded, as though to express his approbation of this habit.
"Thanks to my good looks I was received in the Royal Italian, which was
then recruiting in France. I held a distinguished post; when--the day
before the battle of Malplaquet--I had a slight quarrel with my sergeant
about an order which he gave me with the end of his cane raised instead
of lowered, as it should have been."
"Pardon me," said Gaston, "but I cannot see what difference that could
make to the order he was giving."
"It made this difference, that in lowering his cane it struck against my
hat, which fell to the ground; the result was a duel, in which I passed
my saber through his body. Now, as I certainly should have been shot if
I had waited to be arrested, I made off, and woke the next
morning--devil take me if I know how it happened--in Marlborough's
army."
"That is to say, you deserted," said Gaston, smiling.
"I had Coriolanus and the great Conde for examples," said Dubois, "and
this appeared to me to be sufficient to excuse me in the eyes of
posterity. I assisted then, I must tell you, as we are to hide nothing
from one another, at the battle of Malplaquet; but instead of being on
one side of the brook, I was on the other, and instead of having the
village behind me, I faced it. I think this was a lucky exchange for
your humble servant; the Royal Italian left eight hundred men on the
field of battle, my company was cut to pieces, and my own comrade and
bedfellow killed by a cannon-ball. The glory with which my late regiment
covered itself so much delighted Marlborough, that he made me an ensign
on the field of battle. With such a protector I ought to have done well,
but his wife, Lady Marlborough, whom Heaven confound, having been
awkward enough to spill a bowl of water over Queen Anne's dress, this
great event changed the face of things in Europe. In the overthrow which
resulted, I found myself without any other protector than my own merit,
and the enemies I had gained thereby."
"And what did you do then?" asked Gaston, somewhat interested in the
adventurous life of the pretended captain.
"What could I do? I was forced to enter the service of his Catholic
majesty, who, to his honor be it said, graciously acceded to my demand
for a commission. In three years I was a captain; but, out of our pay of
thirty reals a day, they kept back twenty, telling us what an honor it
was for us to lend money to the king of Spain. As the security did not
appear good in my eyes, I asked leave of my colonel to quit the service
and return to my beautiful country, accompanied by a recommendation, in
order that the Malplaquet affair might not be too much brought on the
tapis. The colonel referred me to the Prince do Cellamare, who,
recognizing in me a natural disposition to obey, without discussion, any
orders given in a proper manner and accompanied by a certain music,
employed me actively in the famous conspiracy which bears his name,
when, all at once, the whole affair blew up, as you know, by the double
denunciation of La Fillon and a wretched writer called Buvat; but his
highness, wisely thinking that what is deferred is not lost, recommended
me to his successor, to whom, I hope, my services may be useful, and
whom I thank most heartily for procuring me the acquaintance of so
accomplished a cavalier as yourself. Count on me then, chevalier, as
your most humble and obedient servant."
"I ask nothing of you, captain," replied Gaston, "but to present me to
the duke, the only person to whom my instructions permit me to speak
openly, and to whom I am to deliver the Baron de Valef's dispatches. I
beg, therefore, that you will present me to his excellency."
"This very day, chevalier," said Dubois, who seemed to have decided on
his course of action; "in an hour if you like, in ten minutes if
necessary."
"As soon as possible."
"Listen," said Dubois; "I was a little too quick when I said you should
see his excellency in an hour--in Paris one is never sure; perhaps he
does not know of your coming, and I may not find him at home."
"I understand."
"Perhaps even I may be prevented from coming back to fetch you."
"How so?"
"Peste, chevalier; it is easy to see that this is your first visit to
Paris."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that in Paris there are three distinct bodies of police, who all
unite to torment those honest people who only desire to substitute what
is not for what is. First, the regent's police, which is not much to be
feared; secondly, that of Messire Voyer d'Argenson--this has its days,
when he is in a bad humor, or has been ill received at the convent of
the Madeleine du Tresnel; thirdly, there is Dubois's police; ah! that is
a different thing. Dubois is a--"
"A wretch," cried Gaston; "I am well aware of that."
Dubois smiled his sinister smile.
"Well, to escape these three police?" said Gaston.
"One must be prudent, chevalier."
"Instruct me, captain; for you seem to know more about it than I, who am
a provincial."
"First, we must not lodge in the same hotel."
"Diable!" said Gaston, who remembered the address given to Helene; "I
had a great wish to remain here."
"I will be the one to turn out then, chevalier. Take one of my rooms,
this one, or the one above."
"I prefer this."
"You are right; on the ground-floor, a window looking into one street, a
secret door to the other. You have a quick eye; we shall make something
of you."
"Let us return to our business."
"Right; where was I?"
"You said you might not be able to come back and fetch me."
"Yes, but in that case take care not to follow any one without
sufficient signs."
"By what signs shall I recognize any one as coming from you?"
"First, he must have a letter from me."
"I do not know your writing."
"True; I will give you a specimen."
And Dubois wrote the following lines:
"MONSIEUR LE CHEVALIER--Follow without fear the man who
brings this note, he is deputed by me to lead you to
the house where the Duc d'Olivares and Captain la
Jonquiere await you."
"Stay," said he, giving him the note, "if any one comes in my name, he
will give you a similar letter."
"Is that enough?"
"One cannot be too careful; besides the letter, he will show you the
half-coin, and at the door of the house to which he leads you, ask for
the third sign."
"Which will be."
"The paper."
"It is well," said Gaston, "with these precautions--the devil is in it
if we are mistaken. Now, what am I to do?"
"Wait; you will not go out to-day."
"No."
"Well, remain quiet in this hotel, where you will want for nothing. I
will recommend you to the host."
"Thanks."
"My dear M. Champagne," said Dubois to Tapin, opening the door, "the
Chevalier de Chanlay takes my room; attend to him as you would to me."
Then, closing it--
"That fellow is worth his weight in gold, Tapin," said he in a low
voice, "do not lose sight of him for a moment; you will answer for him
with your head."