sufficed to replace it as it had first hung, and being now outside,
stood to consider of my course. I saw with thankfulness that the sky
had again become clouded, so that all was now near as dark as before.
Men were calling to one another in the garden, and since they could
hardly as yet have discovered the whereabouts of my horse, I thought I
could do no better than make my way back as straightly as I could to the
clump of trees where I had left him, trusting to luck and the darkness.
I had gone but a few steps when I stumbled against a man, and believed
myself undone; but he said: "Do you see anything?" and composing my
voice I answered: "Nothing," and then left him and sped on, scarce
believing in my good fortune. So with many a stumble and shrewd knock
upon my shins, making all haste yet moving with such quietness as was
possible, I came to the wall, and without waiting to seek the gateway I
scrambled over, and fell upon my face in the mud. For this I cared
nothing, only that in my fall my sword clashed against a stone, and a
shout from the enclosure warned me that the alarm was given. I was on
my feet in a trice, and sprang across the lane, in desperate fear lest
my horse might whinny again and bring the enemy upon me ere I could
loose him and mount. In my agitation of mind I could not remember
whether the clump of trees was on my right hand or my left, but a break
in the flying scud gave me so much light as to show me what I sought,
and I had just reached it and was plunging through the undergrowth when
I heard the clash of steel as the men scrambled over the wall like as I
had done, and their voices calling one to another as they asked whether
they saw any man.
So dark was it in the copse that I could not see my horse, and I doubt
whether I should have found him in time if he, hearing my approach, had
not whinnied and so led me in the right direction. I unloosed his
bridle in haste, but had no sooner vaulted into the saddle than a man
ran up behind me, and cried out to the others that he had me. I set
spurs to my horse, but at the moment of his springing forward I felt a
sharp pang in the calf of my left leg, and the man let forth a vehement
oath when the horse carried me beyond his reach. Bending low in the
saddle to shun the branches of the trees, the which swept my cheeks and
dealt me many smarting wounds, I put my horse to the gallop, incommoded
by finding that one of my stirrups was gone, and knowing never a whit
whether I was riding towards Arques or from it. I came out of the copse
into a road, and hearing no sounds of pursuit,--indeed scarce expecting
any, since the men were not mounted--I gave the horse his head, and
breasting an incline we came to a small hamlet, where I did not scruple
to knock at one of the cottages until a window was opened, and a peasant
sleepily demanded what I lacked. From him I learnt that I was but a
stone's throw from the Bethune river, which gave me great comfort, and
so I spurred on, and by and by came to the bridge by Archelles, and so
on until I gained the marshy plain below Arques where the King was
encamped, never stopping until I was challenged by the outposts.
[Illustration: I FELT A SHARP PANG IN THE CALF OF MY LEFT LEG]
The day was now breaking, and since my news was important--both that
which I brought from Hilary Rawdon and that which I had discovered for
myself--I demanded to be led instantly to Rosny, with whom I had some
slight acquaintance, having been commended to him in a letter by my Lord
Seymour when I joined Hilary Rawdon's troop. Rosny at first seeing me
broke into a fit of laughter, the which was not to be wondered at,
seeing that my garments were drenched through and through, and my face
was muddy both from splashes and from my fall, and withal I walked
somewhat stiffly from the wound in my leg. But he looked grave enough
when I told him in brief what news I carried, and he would have me
accompany him at once to the King, whom he doubted not to find already
astir, though the morning was yet young. (I had not then heard the
saying of Pope Sixtus V, who foretold that the Bearnais would come off
conqueror because he did not remain so long abed as the Duke of Mayenne
at table; but I knew of the King's habit of rising early, the which was
indeed a cause of grumbling among the sluggards of his Court.)
King Henry smiled in his beard when Rosny presented me to him, but heard
me soberly enough when I gave him Hilary Rawdon's message, to wit, that
the Duke of Mayenne was drawing nigh with twenty-five thousand foot and
eight thousand horse to give him battle.
"What shall we do against so great a host with our poor three thousand?"
said the King to Marshal Biron that stood by. "Ventre-saint-gris! Is it
not hard to be a king without a kingdom, a husband without a wife, and a
warrior without money?"
Here Rosny said that I had more to tell, and the King, pursing his lips
so that his long nose seemed to touch his chin, bade me say on. I told
him of my seeing the light, and of all that followed thereafter, saving
only the matter of my wound, and when I had done, he said sharply
between his teeth--
"Well, what then?"
(His words in truth were "_Mais encore?_" but 'tis meet I turn French
into English in telling my story now.)
"I know no more, Sire," I said in answer, "but I suspect the men I saw
were Leaguers, and were plotting secretly to seize your person, or to do
some other mischief, and 'twere well to send a party to take them, or if
that be too late, to go not from the camp without a strong guard."
"What!" cries the King; "shall I cage myself like a song-bird, or tether
myself like a drudging ass? Ventre-saint-gris! my dear friends have
already counselled me that I seek refuge speedily in your country; but I
tell you that while I continue at the head of even a handful of
Frenchmen, such counsel 'tis impossible for me to follow. As for plots,
a fig for them all! Did I not listen but yesterday to a tale of a plot,
as shadowy as yours? There may be such plots afoot; let there be. The
assassin of my late cousin will not lack of imitators. But shall we
start at shadows, or flee like a cook-wench at sight of a mouse? The
men you saw, as like as not, were bandits, discoursing on the spoils
they expect to reap from the ambushing of some rich Churchman. Plots!
I am aweary of the word."
This reception was so little like what I had looked for that I felt
abashed and, I own, somewhat ruffled also. The King's courage was known
of all men, but I hold that to neglect a warning is not courage, but
mere foolhardiness. While I was meditating whether I should urge the
matter, the King suddenly hailed a burly man that was riding slowly a
few short paces from his tent.
"Hola, Lameray," he said, "send a dozen men to the chateau of St
Aubyn-le-cauf--which is beyond doubt the place of your adventure, Master
Rudd--and seize any man you find therein. Master Rudd will tell you
more at large," and with that he turned away, jesting with Rosny.
The man whom the King had called Lameray dismounted from his horse,
which I perceived to be much bespattered with mud, and coming towards me
with a sort of roll in his gait, he said, in a full, harsh voice--
"Master Rudd will tell me more at large?"
There was certainly something of insolency in his tone, and being
already ruffled with the King's manner of receiving my news, I did not
feel very amiably disposed towards this stranger, who looked at me under
his beaver with a glance of mockery.
"Master Rudd, if it please him, will tell me more at large," says the
man again, while I was still considering of how I should deal with him.
"You heard the King's command, Master Lameray----"
"Pardon--De Lameray," says he, interrupting me.
"De Lameray," I said, making a bow. "The chateau of St Aubyn-le-cauf,
your nobility may not be aware, lies something less than two miles along
the road towards Dampierre, and if you hurry you may yet be in time to
do the King's bidding."
"And perhaps Master Rudd would be pleased to accompany me?" he said,
smiling upon me.
"No," I said shortly, and thinking that perhaps his mockery sprang of my
dirty and dishevelled aspect, I left him there, and strode away, with a
bare acknowledgment of his salutation, to the quarters I had formerly
occupied in the camp. There, having bathed and got me into clean
raiment, and bound up the wound in my leg, no great matter, and eaten
pretty ravenously, I set off to find Raoul de Torcy, who was of my own
age, and had been my particular friend ever since I came to France.
"What news of the camp?" I said, after I had greeted him, for having
been absent for a fortnight I knew nothing of what had happened of late.
"The question I myself would ask," he said, "for I only returned from
Paris last night."
"From Paris?" I said.
"Yes. I set off thither the very day after you left us, having friends
there who are also very good friends of the King, and yet know all the
counsels of the Leaguers. I rode thence the day before yesterday,
bearing news of a plot to kill the King."
"Another?" I exclaimed.
"I know not what you mean by 'another,' my friend; but there is
assuredly one afoot, and I rode apace with the news, and was chased
well-nigh all the way from Paris by a fellow that had the very cut of a
Leaguer. But I shook him off yesterday evening, just before the storm
broke, and came safe into camp, and little enough I had for my pains."
"Why, did the King flout you too?" I asked.
"He laughed, and took it very lightly. 'Another?' says he, just as you
did: 'I hear of plots as regularly as I eat my dinner.' And then he
went off arm in arm with Rosny and paid no more heed to me."
Whereupon I told him of my own errand, and of what I had seen at the
chateau, and how the King had received me.
"I love our Henry," said Raoul, with a shrug, when I had made an end;
"but I sometimes question whether he be not too careless to make a good
king for France. However, we have done our part; if any ill befalls
him, it will not be for want of warning."
I asked him then who was this Monsieur de Lameray that the King had
dispatched to the chateau, and he said he had never heard the man's
name; but encountering Jean Prevost as we sauntered forth from his
lodging, we put the question to him, and he told us that the Baron de
Lameray had lately come into the camp and offered his sword to the King,
with three score gentlemen well mounted and equipped. He had been a
Leaguer, but it was no more uncommon then than now for warriors to shift
their allegiance, and Henry, who dearly loved a good sword, had welcomed
right heartily this notable accession to his party, and smiled upon him
so graciously that certain of his well-tried servants were displeased
thereat. Whereupon Raoul shrugged again, complaining of the fickleness
of kings' favour.
*II*
On the night of that day, I rode with Raoul and a dozen more to the
lodging of the Marquis de Contades in Dieppe, he having bidden us to
supper and a game of tric-trac. The company was very merry, but I was
aweary with having been up all the night before, and what with our
host's good cheer and the heaviness of the air I could scarce keep my
eyes open. Ever and anon I wandered to the window to cool myself,
wishing with all my heart that the company would break up, whereof I had
little hope, such jovial entertainments being commonly prolonged far
towards morning. Looking forth one time into the silent and empty
street, I saw a shadow move in a doorway on the further side, and felt a
passing wonder as to who might be lurking there so late, concluding that
'twas some poor townsman on the lookout to earn a few doits by holding a
stirrup or some such petty service. When I returned into the room the
marquis rallied me on my air of weariness, and on my telling him that I
had been long without sleep, he was pleased to admit my excuses, and
bade me get away to my bed. I went down the stairs very gladly, to walk
to the inn where I had left my horse and my servant, and had taken a
pace or two before I remembered the shadow in the doorway. I looked up
then to see whether the man was still there, and in that very moment a
figure sprang at me out of the dark entry, and I saw in the starlight a
long dagger uplifted against the sky. I had no time to draw my own
weapon, but my lucky remembrance of the man having saved me from being
taken wholly by surprise, I dropped suddenly to the ground, and my
assailant stumbled over me in the vehemence of his onset. Before he
could recover his footing I was upon him, but could do no more than grip
his right arm, and we fell together. There we were, rolling over and
over, and in the heat and fury of the struggle I heard the footsteps of
other men on the cobbles, and a voice asking in a hoarse and breathless
whisper which was the Englishman, and another answer: "'Tis no matter;
the fool has botched it; strike anywhere!" and then the man I was
gripping cried out with pain, for one of the newcomers had stooped and
stabbed him, and as he loosened his hold upon me he screamed again, and
I knew that in a moment one of these hacking swords must find me out.
[Illustration: A FIGURE SPRANG AT ME OUT OF THE DARK ENTRY]
But as I grappled the assassin to me to shield myself, there came to my
ears a shouting and the clink and clatter of spurred boots upon the
stones, and three of the four men above me took instantly to their
heels. The fourth remained, still bending over us, and I heard his
pants, and though I could not see his sword-arm, being partly underneath
the body of my first assailant, I saw his other arm, lifted in the act
to lunge. The fingers of his hand being distended, in that brief moment
I observed that his little finger was amissing.
My companions, called forth by the cries and the sound of the scuffle,
now came running up, and the man, with a growl of rage, straightened
himself and sped away into the night. I rose, bruised and very scant of
breath, and when I told them in a word what had happened, they were for
pursuing the villains. But the time, though brief, was sufficient for
them to make good their escape, and it was vain to think of overtaking
them in the darkness of those streets, with many crooks and corners and
narrow alleys; so they came back after going a few paces, and while some
asked me whether I was hurt, others bent down to look at the fallen man,
who was stark dead. A torch being brought from the marquis's lodging,
they saw the device upon the man's coat, and some one cried that it was
one of De Lameray's men. At this Raoul looked at me, and I at him, but
we said nothing to our companions, having much food for thought. The
party being thus broken up, those of the guests that belonged to the
camp at Arques got their horses and rode back with me, and when we
arrived at the camp Raoul accompanied me, late as it was, to the
lodgings of Rosny, to whom we recounted, when we had roused him up, both
what had befallen and what our suspicions were. He heard us gravely, and
then bade us get to our beds, saying that the matter must be looked to
in the morning.
I was glad enough to seek my couch, and fell asleep instantly; but all
on a sudden I awaked and sat up with a start, a strange discovery having
come upon me in the midst of my sleep. I was again peeping through the
curtain at the chateau of St Aubyn-le-cauf; again I saw the man leaning
back in his chair, and then unclasping his hands as he rose; and now my
recollection acquainted me with something which had scarce made any
impression at the moment of my actual beholding: the man's left hand had
lacked a finger! I could not doubt that the man in the chateau and he
of the late adventure in Dieppe were one and the same; and I had now
some inkling of the reason why my life was attempted. _Dead men tell no
tales_. My tale was already told, and the King had not hearkened; but I
had somewhat new to add to it, and maybe he would not again turn me a
deaf ear.
I had but just broken my fast when a lackey came to command my
attendance on the King. I found His Majesty with Rosny in his tent, and
the Baron de Lameray was there too, and as I entered and made my
obeisance he said something under his breath that set the King
a-laughing.
"Well, my friend," said Henry, "what is this I hear of tavern brawling
in the streets of my good town of Dieppe?"
"I know not what you may have heard, Sire," I said, "nor can I answer
for the doings of others; but an attempt was made upon my life last
night," and then I told him the whole story as I have told it you.
"And who were these would-be assassins?" asked the King when I had done.
"The fellow that was killed, Sire, was said to wear the livery of my
lord here," I replied, glancing towards Lameray; "and as for the others,
I know no more than that I saw the hand of one of them, and it lacked a
finger."
At this Lameray took a step forward, and glaring very darkly upon me
demanded whether I hinted at him. Whereupon I smiled very pleasantly,
and glancing at his hands, which were cased in gauntlets, as the manner
of the camp was, I said--
"I have not the honour of knowing with what afflictions Providence has
been pleased to visit Monsieur de Lameray."
The King laughed, and even Rosny's grave face relaxed a little; but
Lameray frowned, and said with some heat: "I have already explained to
His Majesty that at the time of this fracas I had not returned from the
errand which he was pleased to entrust to me, and of that the gentlemen
of my company can bear witness."
"And your chateau was empty, my good Rudd," said the King.
"I scarce expected otherwise, Sire," I said, "the men having had
warning. And as to that matter, it is a slight thing, no doubt, but one
of those I saw there had suffered the same misfortune as Monsieur de
Lameray, if I take his words aright: he had but three fingers on his
left hand."
The King cast a searching glance upon Lameray, who did not change
countenance, but said with a sneer--
"It seems that Monsieur Rudd is beset with visions of conspirators
lacking a finger. Maybe he is little practised in the use of the
sword."
"I wield my sword with the right hand, Monsieur de Lameray," I said; and
then the King, whose countenance had regained its wonted serenity, asked
me why I had said nought of the three-fingered man when I told him of
what I had seen in the chateau. This question put me in a confusion,
for it was an ill matter to explain to the King that his manner of
receiving my news had ruffled me, or that the remembrance had not come
to me until the middle of the night, for that might very well seem to be
a dream, or even an invention. I stammered in this quandary, and, I
doubt not, looked as much embarrassed as I felt; and the King laughed
somewhat impatiently, and turning to Rosny asked why he troubled him
with these brawls and midnight robberies. Without waiting for an answer
he bade us depart, vouchsafing to me no word save the bare command, but
telling Monsieur de Lameray that he would do well in future to keep his
lackeys more firmly in hand.
I returned to my quarters in high indignation, marvelling also at the
King's strange simplicity, for I believed now with the utmost assurance
that the man I had seen in the chateau and he I had seen in the street
were Monsieur de Lameray and no other. And an hour or two after I found
that I was not alone in this suspicion, for Rosny himself came to me and
asked me to be wary, and to acquaint him immediately of anything I might
see or hear further. "We must put things to the proof," he said in his
brief way. When I told him that Hilary Rawdon had expected me to return
to St Jacques after accomplishing my errand, Rosny replied that I must
not do so, but remain at Arques. "And see that you do not stray from
the camp alone, my friend," he said, "if you value your skin as I value
mine." And so he left me.
*III*
It is ill work kicking one's heels in camp when no fighting is toward,
and I was glad enough when a servant of Jean Prevost's came to me in the
afternoon with a request from his master that I would join him and a few
more in a gallop. I donned my doublet--the same which I had worn on the
night of my ride--and chancing to put my hand into its inner pocket, I
felt some small thing which, when I took it out, I found to be a thin
roll of paper. For a brief space I looked at it in a kind of
puzzlement, turning it over in my fingers, at a loss to know how I had
gotten it. And then, in a flash, it came back to me. I told you that
before I lost my way near the chateau of St Aubyn-le-cauf, I had already
met with some hindrance in my journey, and I declare that the surprising
events that had happened afterwards had clean driven it from my memory;
but now I remembered it perfectly. About two miles out of St Jacques,
just as the dusk was falling, and a drizzle of rain, I came to a
cross-roads, and saw a man lying in a huddled heap by the roadside. I
got off my horse to look more closely at him, and when I bent over him,
I saw that he was stretched in a pool of blood, and there were great
gashes in his doublet, not such clean cuts as a rapier makes, but jagged
rents, the work of coarser instruments. I spoke to him, and he opened
his eyes and groaned feebly, and then endeavoured to speak; but he was
plainly very far gone, and I could make nothing of his mutterings. I
looked around to see if there was any house whereto I might convey the
man, who I supposed had been beset by footpads, but there was no
dwelling at hand, and I was considering whether I should lift him on to
my horse, when he lifted his hand painfully, and gave me a roll of
paper. I asked him what it was, and what I should do with it, and he
tried to tell me; but though his lips moved no articulate sound came
from them, and even as I looked at him he heaved a great sigh, and his
head fell back, and I knew that he was dead. What I might have done had
not my errand been urgent I cannot tell; but since I could do nothing
for him I delayed but to compose his huddled limbs, and mounted my horse
again, thrusting the paper into my pocket, where it had since lain
forgotten. Such things happened often in the lawless and distracted
France of that time, so that it is no wonder it went out of my head when
I had matters of greater moment to think of.
[Illustration: I SAW A MAN LYING IN A HUDDLED HEAP]
Having found the paper, I unrolled it to see what it might be. It
contained a few words plainly written, and yet I could not read them,
for they were of no tongue that ever I heard of, and I was not long in
concluding that they were writ in what is called a cipher. I rolled the
paper again and put it back into my pocket, thinking to show it to Rosny
by and by; but meeting Raoul de Torcy as I left my lodging, I spoke of
it to him, telling him how I came by it. When I described the poor
wretch who had been thus done to death, Raoul said 'twas like the
horseman who had followed him from Paris, and begged me to leave the
paper with him, for he had some skill in reading ciphers, and guessed
that if the man had been a Leaguer, as he supposed, the writing might
prove useful to the King.
I rode out with Jean Prevost's party, and after a hard gallop we were
walking our horses when we were overtaken by the King himself, with
Rosny and half-a-dozen more. The King looked over his shoulder as he
rode by, and told me with a laugh that he was going to my chateau, as he
called it, to look for the three-fingered gentleman, or at least to lay
the ghost. I did not relish his mockery, nor the quizzing of my
companions, who were importunate in asking what he meant, but I forbore
to tell them, Rosny having charged me to say nothing of the matter. A
little after we turned our horses and rode slowly back.
I had not been above five minutes in my quarters when Raoul burst into
my apartment in a great heat, and cried to me that he had read the
cipher.
"And what's more," said he, "it was intended for me myself! That poor
fellow you found murdered was not a Leaguer after all, but had been
dispatched from Paris hot upon my heels by my friends there."
"And what is the message he brought in such haste?" I asked.
"Why, hark to it," he said, thereupon reading from the paper: "'The
mischief purposed against the King will be wrought by a feigning friend,
who has lately joined himself to the royal forces. We do not yet know
his name, but will acquaint you with that as soon as it is discovered.'
Who should that be but Lameray?"
"Where is Lameray?" I cried instantly, remembering that the King had
ridden out but sparely attended, so that if it was designed to seize him
no better opportunity could present itself. When Raoul told me that he
had not seen the baron all that day I sprang up in haste, saying that it
were well we should make inquiry; and calling to my servant to saddle my
best horse, I went out with Raoul to seek Charles de Martigny, who knew
everything. From him we learnt that Lameray had ridden forth some while
before with his troop to hunt in the forest of Arques across the river.
Martigny remarked some excitement in our demeanour, and asked whether I
had some new grudge against the baron; whereupon I told him what we had
learnt, saying when I ended, "'Tis to be hoped he is hunting fair game."
"We must go and acquaint Rosny," said Martigny at once.