To reach the stables which were at the back of the Krone without
passing through the kitchen (and it would have been madness for
Humphrey to attempt to do so unnoticed, since the scullions and
cook-maids were, he imagined, finishing their tasks for the night,
while the drawers and servers were idling about and, probably, in some
cases, emptying down their throats the heel-taps of various flasks and
bottles), it was necessary to proceed to the end of the street, some
houses off. Then, a turn to the left had to be made beneath the
ramparts between the river and the city proper, and, next, still
another to the left to bring Humphrey to the rear of the inn and the
stables themselves.
This he knew well enough, as, in the morning, he had visited those
stables to see the soldiers of the Duc de Lorraine who had escorted
the Duchess from Nancy set out upon their journey back. And, good
cavalier as he was, he had more than once in the past twenty-four
hours gone to them to see that all was well with "Soupir" and that she
was properly fed and groomed and attended to.
He strolled on, therefore, in an easy manner towards where the mare
was, assuming the air of one who, after his supper, might be
sauntering about by the side of the river ere seeking his bed, while
inhaling the soft, warm southern breeze of the night. To appear well
in keeping with such a person--one who might be a traveller taking his
ease, or one on the road to or from France or, across the river, to
the German States--he also went on to the bridge and gazed idly into
the turbulent waters rushing beneath, and so walked across to Klein
Basel, all with the desire to kill time.
"For," said Humphrey to himself, "I must be neither too soon nor too
late. If I go in too early I may come against La Truaumont or his
myrmidons seeking to know if all is well with the animals, which I
desire not to do. While, if I tarry too long I may find the door fast
for the night, whereby 'Soupir' and I cannot come at each other."
Consequently, he made no movement for still some little time, nor
until all the clocks were once more competing hotly with each other as
to which should be the first or the last to strike the hour. And the
hour which they were striking was eleven.
"Almost I might venture," Humphrey said to himself now. "The band of
which it is supposed I shall form one," and he smiled at his thoughts,
"sets out early to-morrow for Geneva and Martigny. La Truaumont will
have given his commands by now since he sees to all. Fleur de Mai and
Boisfleury are deep in their cups or gone by this time to their beds.
The rest, the horsekeepers, the stablemen, do not count at all. I
stand as high with the Duchess as does the captain; I may do what I
please." Upon which he rose from his seat on a bench across the river
and made his way back and towards where his mare was.
Returning to the bottom of that old street which leads down to the
Rhine from the city above, it seemed to Humphrey that he heard, either
ahead of, or behind, him, the ring of spurs upon the stones as well as
the tramp of heavily booted feet: and he heard, or thought he heard,
the well-known click-clack of the point of a rapier sheath against
those stones.
"Humph!" he said to himself. "One of the watch perhaps, or some
traveller."
He, however, thought little more of this beyond observing that the
sound of those heavy boots and spurs, and that tap of a rapier, were
becoming fainter, when, suddenly, upon his ears there fell the words:
"Excellency, I will tell him. Be sure of me, Prince."
"The voice of Fleur de Mai!" Humphrey exclaimed. "And 'Excellency!'
'Prince!' Foregad! whom should he know here--or anywhere for the
matter of that!--to whom such terms apply? And in this Republic where
there are no Excellencies or Princes."
As he so thought, though heedlessly enough, since to him who, both in
London and Paris, had mixed always with the highest and noblest, such
things counted for little, it seemed that either those footsteps were
returning towards where he was now, or else that they were the
footsteps of some man similarly attired and accoutred who had passed
the other.
"Perhaps," he mused, "Fleur de Mai is coming this way after greeting
his acquaintance the 'Prince'. It may be so. And to-morrow the
vagabond will boast of his friend, his close and intimate friend the
Prince of this or that, whose acquaintance he has, in truth, only made
to-night in some other hostelry than ours."
Suddenly, however, as thus he laughed at the bravo's probable
braggadocio, the fellow himself loomed up large before him.
"'Tis Fleur de Mai, as I thought!" he exclaimed aloud. "I knew there
was but one such rich and unctuous voice in all the wide world." After
which he laughed, while adding, "And the friend of Princes."
"'Tis very true," the other answered. "Ay, the friend of many princes.
Yet 'twould be best for you, my cock o' the walk, if you too were
thinking of the princes whom you know. Here is De Beaurepaire come
post-haste to Basle."
"De Beaurepaire here!" Humphrey exclaimed.
"Ay, and seeking for you everywhere. In my lady's chamber, beating on
your door and cursing you loudly for being a seek-your-bed; making
_poursuivants_ of us to ferret you out, while you, _cadédis!_ are
strolling about the streets making odes to the moon, I do suppose, or
dreaming of the fair Jacquette."
"Silence, brigand."
"Silence is best. You will hear enough when De Beaurepaire lets loose
his tongue on you."
"Bah! I am not his servant nor in his pay as you are. I ride as his
friend and help, not as his varlet. Yet, since he is here, I would see
him. There is no man in all the world on whom I would more willingly
set eyes" ("for his own good," Humphrey added to himself). Then he
said aloud, "Now tell me where he is. Lead me to him."
"'Tis that which I am here to do," Fleur de Mai said, "though, in
doing it, I bid you observe I obey him, not you. Come, therefore."
"Where is he, I say?" Humphrey exclaimed again, stamping his foot.
"At the stables, looking to his horse, as a good soldier should.
_Ciel!_ did you not hear him bid me find you?"
"I heard you say 'I will tell him,' meaning me I suppose. Well! let us
away to the stables, they are close at hand."
"Come then, my pretty page," grunted Fleur de Mai contemptuously, and
venting the spite which, from the first, he had conceived against the
good-looking young man who was always so handsomely dressed and made
so much of by the Duchess, as well as always a guest at her table
while he and Boisfleury were relegated to the common living rooms at
whatever hostelry the band put up.
Following after the fellow, Humphrey drew near the stables while
puzzling his head as to what could have brought De Beaurepaire to
Basle since he knew that, holding the offices he did, the Prince had
no right whatever to be out of France.
"Has the plot failed already," Humphrey wondered as he went; "is it
blown upon and has De Beaurepaire put himself outside France for
safety? Or has he been unable to stay longer away from his fair
friend, the Marquise? If 'tis the first, he may now ride on with the
Duchess to the Milanese territory: if the second he has fair
surroundings for his amorous dalliance. While as for me--well!--in
either case I am free of my hurried ride to Paris. If the bubble has
burst the King knows as much of it as I: if love has drawn De
Beaurepaire hither, the two principals of that plot, she and he, can
work no harm at present. I shall have time before me to meditate on
what I must do."
By now, he and Fleur de Mai were outside the stables, one half of the
doors of which stood ajar, while, through the opening thus made, there
streamed out the glimmer of a lantern. When, however, Humphrey had
followed the other in--and when "Soupir," who was in her stall at the
top, turned round and whinnied as she heard her master's voice
exclaim, "Where is the Prince? I see no one"--he noticed, by hearing
the latch fall even as he spoke, that the door had closed--by itself
as it seemed--behind him. Turning round instantly at this, he saw that
a man enveloped in a long cloak had shut it.
"Who are you?" he exclaimed, addressing this man whose back was
towards him, and whose face was, consequently, invisible, "and why do
you close the door thus?"
"I am the Captain la Truaumont," the man said now, wheeling round and
facing Humphrey, "and I have to speak with you."
"Where is De Beaurepaire? He is not here!" while Humphrey, suspecting
some trick, took a step backwards as he spoke, and, dropping his left
hand on his rapier hilt, loosened it in its sheath.
"Where he should be, I suppose, in Paris attending to his present
duties. Later, as you know, he will have others to attend to.
Meanwhile, loosen not your weapon. It will not save you here. I know a
trick or two more of fence than you."
"It would seem you know many tricks, Captain La Truaumont. In spite,
however, of your ordinance touching my weapon, I will make bold to
draw it," and, in a moment, Humphrey's right hand had whipped the
rapier from its sheath.
"So will I mine," he heard Fleur de Mai say.
"And I mine," exclaimed another voice which Humphrey recognised as
that of Boisfleury.
"You see," said La Truaumont, "you are caught. Your English blade will
stand you in little stead against three stout French ones. Though I
account mine of so little need that, as yet, it is not drawn."
"Later," said Humphrey who, while he recognised that he was tricked
and caught in a _guet-apens_ from which there seemed little likelihood
of escape, felt no tremor of fear: "Later, we will see for that.
Meanwhile, ere we commence our play, explain to me what is the meaning
of this--lie--that has been told me."
"The meaning is," said La Truaumont, "that you were locked in your
room for some hours while I and two friends were in the salon of
Madame La Marquise de Villiers-Bordéville. Owing to a grating between
the two rooms, which her respected father discovered later, you were
undoubtedly enabled to overhear all, or the greater part, of what took
place in that salon. Do you deny or acknowledge this?"
"I deny and acknowledge nothing. What you imagine is of no import to
me. No more than how you have become possessed of this knowledge
through Madame's 'respected father,' or he, himself, of it."
"Yet you shall learn. The waiting-maid of Madame la Marquise, whom you
bribed with a gold louis and fair words and sweet looks to give you
information of her mistress, was over-bribed with five times the sum
by me--who saw you engaged in talk with her--to give us information of
you."
"Which, being gained, did not prevent you from speaking out your plot
to one another. Bah! tell a better tale or none at all."
"Softly, _beau garçon_. The maid was bribed to watch and see that you
entered not into your room, it being thought you were still with your
pretty Jacquette, or her mistress, or outside the house. Later, when
you crept forth from your room, after locking it behind you, I
comprehended that you had been in it all the time and that, also, you
had doubtless heard all, the maid telling me you had not entered it
since she took up her watch. Now, you _have_ heard all, you hold us in
your hand, our lives are at your mercy, unless----"
"Unless what!" speaking contemptuously.
"Unless we take yours."
"Take it then!" though, as Humphrey spoke, he turned his body a little
so that, now, neither Fleur de Mai nor Boisfleury were any longer at
his back but, instead, in a line with La Truaumont. Consequently, he
had them all before him while the outer wall of the stable served as a
base.
"You mean----"
"I mean, if you can."
"_Sangdieu!_" La Truaumont said, "though you are such a pretty youth
you are also a bold one. It must be your mother's French blood makes
you so! Yet, listen, Humphrey. We have all been comrades. Also
remember, you are no tried _ferrailleur_. Fleur de Mai knows more of
fence than you, and I than both."
"I will make proof of that ere many moments are past."
"Tush! be not a fool. A word can save you, one easy to speak since
'tis so small. You are of gentle birth in each land from which you
draw your being; give me your word, _foi de gentilhomme_, that no
breath of this ever passes your lips to any mortal soul; say 'Yes' to
my proposal, and we clasp hands here and crack another bottle, as
comrades should do, ere we sleep to-night."
"There is," said Humphrey quietly, and quietly contemptuous too,
"another word as small as 'Yes' in your tongue. Smaller too, in mine.
As easy, or easier therefore, to say."
"Fool! you mean----"
"I mean, 'No'. I mean that to-night I ride her," glancing towards
Soupir, "across the frontier on my road to Paris, Fontainebleau or
Versailles; wherever I may find Louis the King. I mean that every word
I have overheard this night he shall hear from me a week hence or
earlier. With, too, the names of those who have to-night complotted
against his crown, his throne, his life--ah, brute! ruffian!" he broke
off to exclaim as, at this moment, he saw Boisfleury creeping towards
his mare; the sword the fellow held being shortened in his hand. "So,
'tis her you would first disable thereby to disable me." After which,
and grasping his own weapon two feet below the _pas-d'âne_ he swung it
round as he advanced towards the creeping, crouching vagabond and,
striking him full on the temple with the hilt, felled him to the straw
of the stable.
"Now," Humphrey said, with a look on his face which possibly none had
ever seen there before; a look black as the night outside, savage as
the face of an aroused tiger, and with all of the devil that was in
him aflame. "Now, be quick with your dirty work. There are but two
against one left, and that one draws his thews and sinews from English
loins. Be quick or soon there will be but one; the fight will be man
to man. As for you, bully, come on." While, as Humphrey spoke, he
thrust with his rapier full at the breast of Fleur de Mai and, had the
burly scoundrel not stepped aside swiftly as he parried the blade,
would have run him through from breast to back.
A moment later all was silent in that stable except for the muttered
ejaculations, mostly of surprised admiration, which he could not
resist, from La Truaumont; the heavy breathing of Fleur de Mai as
Humphrey pressed him hardly, and the adder-like hissing of the two
men's rapiers as they entwined with one another in a struggle _à
outrance_.