AN OLD FRIEND
I was not the man to neglect Sully's warning, and, besides, there was
an added reason for being careful of dark corners, as both Zamet and
Lafin knew me, and were unlikely to lose any opportunity of doing me
harm that might come their way. I could do nothing but wait and
exercise patience until the month was over, and it was a hard enough
task. Beyond my daily visits to my ordinary, I went nowhere and saw no
one. I occasionally, of course, met my landlord and his wife, but few
words passed between us, and Jacques had become marvellously taciturn,
so that I was alone as if I were in a desert in that vast city, where
the roar of the day's traffic and the hum of voices seemed to vibrate
through, and possess the stillest hours of the night. Doubtless there
were men of my acquaintance in Paris, but I did not seek them, for the
reasons already stated, and I lived as secluded a life as though I had
taken the vows of a hermit.
In the meantime I was more than anxious that Jacques should execute my
plan in regard to Marie. That I felt was a debt of honour to myself;
but though I tried the threat of dismissal, he refused to go point
blank, and I was weak enough to allow him his way. It was one of the
many instances in which my firmness of temper failed, but it is not
possible for a man always to keep his heart in a Milan corselet. I
could not make out Sully's reasons for his action. It seemed to me
that he had got all my information out of me without pledging himself
to anything in return, and that he held me as safely as a cat does a
wounded mouse. To save my own skin by quitting Paris was a thought I
can honestly aver that never came to me. It could not, with the
all-pervading presence of my love for Madame. It was for her sake I
was here, and for her sake I would go cheerfully to the block if it
need be; but it would not be without a try to save her, and if the
worst came to the worst I should let all France know the infamy of her
King. The hero-worship I had in my heart for him had given place to a
bitter hatred for the man who was using his power to drive a woman to
ruin, and inflict upon me the most bitter sorrow. All this may sound
foolish, but such was my frame of mind, and I was yet to know how
great the man was whom I hated--but of that on another day. In the
meantime there was no news from Bidache, and I was kept on the cross
with anxiety lest some danger had befallen my dear one there. Anet was
not three hours' ride away, and at Anet was de Gomeron, unless indeed
the conspirators had scattered, as was not at all unlikely, after the
manner in which they had been discovered. My doubts in regard to
Madame's safety were set at rest about three weeks after my interview
with Sully. One evening Pantin knocked at my door, and, on my bidding
him enter, came in with many apologies for disturbing me.
'But, chevalier,' he added, 'I have news that Monsieur will no doubt
be glad to hear.'
'Then let me have it, Maitre Pantin, for good news has been a stranger
to me for long.'
'It is this. Our friend Palin arrives in Paris to-morrow or the day
after.'
'And stays here?'
'No, for he comes in attendance on Madame de la Bidache, and will
doubtless live at the Rue Varenne.'
I half turned for a moment to the window to hide the expression of joy
on my face I could not conceal otherwise. Were it daylight I might
have been able to see the trees in the gardens of the Rue Varenne; but
it was night, and the stars showed nothing beyond the white spectral
outline of the Tour de Nesle beyond the Malaquais.
'Indeed, I am glad to hear this,' I said as I looked round once more;
'though Paris will be dull for Madame.'
'Not so, monsieur, for the King comes back tomorrow, and the gossips
say that before another fortnight is out there will be another
_maitresse en titre_ at the Louvre. _Ciel!_ How many of them there
have been, from poor La Fosseuse to the D'Estrees.'
'Maitre Pantin, I forgot myself--will you help yourself to the
Frontignac?'
'A hundred thanks, monsieur le chevalier. Is there any message for
Palin? _Pouf!_ But I forget. What has a handsome young spark like you
got in common with an old greybeard? You will be at court in a week;
and they will all be there--bright-eyed D'Entragues, Mary of Guise,
Charlotte de Givry, and----'
'Maitre Pantin, these details of the court do not interest me. Tell
Palin I would see him as soon as he arrives. Ask him as a favour to
come here. He said you were discreet----'
'And I know that Monsieur le Chevalier is likewise.' With a quick
movement of the hand the short grey goatee that Pantin wore vanished
from his chin, and there was before me not the face of the notary, but
that of Annette. She laughed out at the amaze in my look, but quickly
changed her tone.
'Maitre Palin said you were to be trusted utterly, monsieur, and you
see I have done so. Your message will be safely delivered, and I
promise he will see you. But have you no other?'
'None,' I answered, a little bitterly.
'I have, however, and it is this,' and she placed in my hand a little
packet. 'Monsieur may open that at his leisure,' and she turned as if
to go.
'One moment--I do not understand. What is the meaning of this
masquerade?'
'Only this, that my husband will appear to have been at the same time
at the Quartier du Marais as well as the Faubourg St. Germain. I would
add that Monsieur would be wise to keep indoors as he is doing. We
have found out that the house is being watched. Good-night, monsieur,'
and, with a nod of her wrinkled face, this strange woman vanished.
I appeared in truth to be the sport of mystery, and it seemed as if
one of those sudden gusts of anger to which I was subject was coming
on me. I controlled myself with an effort, and with a turn of my
fingers tore open the packet, and in it lay my lost knot of ribbon.
For a moment the room swam round me, and I became as cold as ice. Then
came the revulsion, and with trembling fingers I raised the token to
my lips and kissed it a hundred times. There were no written words
with it; there was nothing but this little worn bow! but it told a
whole story to me. It had come down to me, that ribbon that Marescot
said was hung too high for de Breuil of Auriac; and God alone knows
how I swore to guard it, and how my heart thanked him for his goodness
to me. For ten long minutes I was in fairyland, and then I saw myself
as I was, proscribed and poor, almost in the hands of powerful
enemies, striving to fight an almost hopeless cause with nothing on my
side and everything against me. Even were it otherwise, the rock of
Auriac was too bare to link with the broad lands of Pelouse and
Bidache, and, love her as I did, I could never hang my sword in my
wife's halls. It was impossible, utterly impossible. So I was tossed
now one way, now another, until my mental agony was almost
insupportable.
The next day nothing would content me but that I must repair to the
Rue Varenne, and, if possible, get a glimpse of Madame as she arrived.
I left instructions that Palin should be asked to wait for me if he
came during my absence; for my impatience was too great to admit of my
staying in for him. I was not, however, in so great a hurry as to
entirely neglect the warnings I had received, and dressed myself as
simply as possible, removing the plumes from my hat, and wearing a
stout buff coat under my long cloak. Thus altered I might be mistaken
for a Huguenot, but hardly anyone would look for a former cavalier of
the League in the solemnly-dressed man who was strolling to the end of
the Malaquais. There I took a boat and went by river the short
distance that lay between me and the jetty at the Rue de Bac. At the
jetty I disembarked, and went leisurely towards the Rue Varenne. As I
was crossing the Rue Grenelle, hard by the Logis de Conde, a
half-dozen gentlemen came trotting by and took up the road. I stopped
to let them pass, and saw to my surprise that amongst them were my old
comrades in arms, de Cosse-Brissac, Tavannes, and de Gie. I was about
to wave my hand in greeting, when I recognised amongst them the
sinister face of Lafin riding on the far side of me. Quick as thought
I pretended to have dropped something, and bent down as if to search
for it. The pace they were going at prevented anyone of them, not even
excepting Lafin, with his hawk's eye, from recognising me; but it did
not prevent Tavannes from turning in his saddle and flinging me a
piece of silver with the gibe, 'Go on all fours for that, maitre
Huguenot.' I kept my head low, and made a rush for the silver, whilst
they rode off laughing, a laugh in which I joined myself, though with
different reasons. On reaching the Rue Varenne I had no difficulty in
finding the house I sought; the arms on the entrance gate gave me this
information; and I saw that Madame had only just arrived, and had I
been but a half-hour earlier I might have seen and even spoken with
her. I hung about for some minutes on the chance of getting a glimpse
of her, with no success; then finding that my lounging backwards and
forwards outside the gates was beginning to attract attention from the
windows of a house opposite, I took myself off, feeling a little
foolish at what I had done.
I came back the way I went, and as I walked down the Malaquais met
master Jacques taking an airing with two companions. In one of them I
recognised Vallon, my old friend de Belin's man; the other I did not
know, though he wore the _sang-de-b[oe]uf_ livery of the Compte de
Belin. Having no particular interest in lackeys I paid him no further
attention, though, could I but have seen into the future, it would
have been a good deed to have killed him where he stood.
On seeing me Vallon and Jacques both stopped, and I signalled to them
to cross over the road to me, as I was anxious to hear news of Belin,
who was an intimate friend. This they did, and on my inquiry Vallon
informed me that Belin was at his hotel in the Rue de Bourdonnais, and
the good fellow urged me to come there at once, saying that his master
would never forgive him were he not to insist on my coming. I was
truly glad to hear Belin was in Paris. He was a tried friend, whose
assistance I could rely on in any emergency; and, telling Vallon I
would be at the Rue de Bourdonnais shortly, I went on to my lodging,
followed by Jacques, leaving Vallon to go onwards with his companion.
On coming home I found, as might be expected, that there was no sign
of Palin, and, after waiting for him until the dinner hour, gave him
up for the present and rode off to the Two Ecus; and when my dinner, a
very simple one, was finished, took my way to the Rue de Bourdonnais,
this time mounted on Couronne, with Jacques, well armed, on the
sorrel.
The hotel of the Compte de Belin lay at the west end of the Rue de
Bourdonnais, close to the small house wherein lived Madame de
Montpensier of dreadful memory; and on reaching it I found that it
more than justified the description Belin had given of it to me, one
day whilst we were idling in the trenches before Dourlens. It stood
some way back from the road, and the entrance to the courtyard was
through a wonderfully worked iron gateway, a counterpart, though on a
smaller scale, of the one at Anet. At each corner of the square
building was a hanging turret, and from the look of the windows of one
of these I guessed that my friend had taken up his quarters there.
I was met by Vallon, who said he had informed his master of my coming;
and, telling a servant to hold my horse, he ushered me in, talking of
a hundred things at once. I had not gone ten steps up the great
stairway when Belin himself appeared, running down to meet me. '_Croix
Dieu!_' he burst out as we embraced. 'I thought you were with the
saints, and that de Rone, you and a hundred others were free from all
earthly troubles.'
'Not yet, de Belin. I trust that time will be far distant.'
'Amen! But you as good as buried yourself alive, at any rate.'
'How so?'
'Vallon tells me you have been a month in Paris, and you have never
once been to the Rue de Bourdonnais until now. You might have known,
man, that this house is as much yours as mine.'
'My dear friend, there were reasons.'
He put a hand on each of my shoulders, looked at me in the face with
kind eyes, and then laughed out.
'Reasons! _Pardieu!_ I can hardly make you out. You have a face a
half-toise in length, never a plume in your hat, and a general look of
those hard-praying and, I will say, hard-fighting gentry who gave the
King his own again.'
'How loyal you have become.'
'We were all wrong--the lot of us--and I own my mistake; but you--you
have not turned Huguenot, have you?'
'Not yet,' I smiled; 'and is Madame de Belin in Paris?'
'_Diable!_ and he made a wry face. 'Come up to my den, and I'll tell
you everything. Vallon, you grinning ape, fetch a flask of our old
Chambertin--I will show M. le Chevalier up myself.'
And linking me by the arm, he led me up the stairway, and along a
noble corridor hung on each side with the richest tapestry, until we
reached a carved door that opened into the rooms in the turret.
'Here we are,' Belin said, as we entered. 'I find that when Madame is
away these rooms are enough for me. _Tiens!_ How a woman's presence
can fill a house. Sit down there! And here comes Vallon. Set the wine
down there, Vallon, and leave us.'
He poured out a full measure for me, then one for himself, and
stretched himself out in an armchair, facing me. I always liked the
man, with his gay cynicism--if I may use the phrase--his kind heart
and his reckless life; and I knew enough to tell that if Madame la
Comptesse had been a little more forbearing she might have moulded her
husband as she willed.
'Belin,' I said,' I am so old a friend, I know you will forgive me for
asking why, if you miss Madame's presence, you do not have her here?'
'Oh, she has got one of her fits, and has gone to grow pears at Belin.
It was all through that fool Vallon.'
'Vallon!'
'Yes. Bassompierre, de Vitry, myself, and one or two others, had
arranged a little supper, with cards to follow, at More's. You don't
know More's, but I'll take you there. Well, to continue: I had gone
through about three weeks of my own fireside before this arrangement
was made, and longed to stretch my legs a little. To tell Sophie would
only cause a discussion. It is as much as I can do to get her to the
Louvre accompanied by myself. So when the evening arrived I pleaded
urgent business over my steward's accounts, and, giving orders that I
was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, came here to my
study, a duplicate key to the door of which Sophie keeps. I put Vallon
in that chair there before the writing-table, after having made him
throw on my _robe-de-chambre_, and gave him instructions to wave his
hand in token that he was not to be disturbed if Madame la Comptesse
came in, and, after thoroughly drilling the rascal, vanished by the
private stair--the entrance to that is just behind my wife's portrait
there.'
'And then?'
'Well, we had as pleasant an evening as might be expected. I won five
hundred pistoles and came home straight to my study, and on entering
it imagine my feelings on seeing Sophie there--and you can guess the
rest.'
'Poor devil,' I laughed, 'so your little plan failed utterly.'
'Vallon failed utterly. It appears that Sophie came up about ten, and,
being waved off, went away. She returned, however, about an hour later
to find Monsieur Vallon, who had got tired of his position, asleep
with his mouth open in the chair in which you are sitting. She refused
to believe it was only a card party--though I said I would call the
Marshal and de Vitry to witness--burst into tears, and in fine, my
friend, I had a bad quarter of an hour, and Sophie has gone off to
Belin.'
'And the pistoles?' I asked slily.
He looked at me, and we both laughed.
'She took them,' he answered.
'Belin,' I said after a moment, 'will you ever change?'
'_Ventre St. Gris!_ As the King swears. Why should I? After all,
Sophie will come round again. I really am very happy. I have many
things to be thankful for. I can always help a friend----'
'I know that,' I interrupted, 'and I want your help.'
'How much is it? Or is it a second?'
'Neither, thanks. Though in either case I would come to you without
hesitation. The fact is--' and I explained to him my difficulty in
providing for Marie, without, however, going into other matters, or
giving him any account of my troubles.
When I ended, Belin said. 'What you want, then, is a trustworthy
fellow.'
'At least that is what Jacques wants. I can get on well enough.'
'_Morbleu!_ It is more than I could; but, as it happens, I have the
very thing for you. Pull that bell-rope behind you, will you? and
oblige a lazy man.'
I did so, and in a minute or so Vallon appeared, wiping his mouth
suspiciously with the back of his hand.
'Vallon,' said de Belin, 'does Ravaillac continue to work
satisfactorily?'
'As ever, monsieur le compte.'
'Well, I am going to lend him to the Chevalier, who has need of his
services.'
'Monsieur.'
'Send him up here, and Bisson, too.'
Vallon bowed and vanished, as I said,
'I do not know how to thank you, Belin.'
'_Pouf!_ A mere bagatelle. I thought we were going to have a little
amusement in the gardens of the Tuileries. I know of a perfect spot
for a meeting--_ca_! _ca!_' and he lunged twice in quarte at an
imaginary adversary. As he came back from the second thrust, he said,
'By the way, I must tell you--but here they are,' and Ravaillac came
in, followed by Jacques, Vallon bringing up the rear.
As they entered I recognised in Ravaillac the man who was with Jacques
and Vallon on the Malaquais, and Belin, turning to Jacques, said
quietly: 'Bisson, I am going to lend Ravaillac here to your master, to
take your place whilst you go away to Ezy. I pledge you my word that
he is a good sword.'
'True enough, monsieur le compte; we were amusing ourselves with a
pass or two below, and he touched me twice to my once, and, as your
lordship answers for him, I am content.'
'That is well, most excellent Bisson! Ravaillac, you understand? Here
is the Chevalier d'Auriac, your new master, who will remain such until
he sends you back to me.'
Ravaillac bowed without reply. He was quite young, barely twenty, and
very tall and thin; yet there was great breadth of shoulder, and I
noticed that he had the framework of a powerful man: his appearance
was much beyond that of his class, but there was a sullen ferocity in
his pale face--the eyes were set too close together, and the mouth too
large and straightly cut to please me. Nevertheless, I was practically
bound to accept Belin's recommendation, and after a few orders were
given, the men were dismissed.
'What was I about to say before these men came in?' asked Belin.
'I'm afraid I cannot help.'
'Of course not--oh, yes! I recollect. I was about to tell you how I
got Ravaillac's service. I lay you five crowns to a tester you would
never guess.'
'You have already told me with your wager. You must have won him.'
'Exactly. You've hit it, and it was in this way. About three months
ago I was returning to Paris attended but by Vallon, and with only a
small sum with me. At an inn at Neuilly I met an acquaintance, a Baron
d'Ayen, one of the last of the _mignons_, and a confirmed gambler.'
'I know him,' I said, my heart beginning to beat faster at the very
thought of d'Ayen.
'Then it makes the story more interesting. We dined together, and then
had a turn at the dice, with the result that d'Ayen won every ecu that
I had.
'"It would be a pity to stop now," he said, as I rose, declaring
myself broken. "Suppose we play for your horse, compte?'"
'"No, thanks," I replied; "luck is against me, and I have no mind to
foot it to my hotel. But I'll tell you what, I have rather taken a
fancy to your man, since I once saw him handle a rapier. I'll lay
Vallon against him; what do you call him?"
'"Ravaillac. He is of Anjouleme, and has been a Flagellant. Will he
suit you?"
'"I shall have to find that out. Do you accept the stakes?"
'"_Mon ami_, I would play for my soul in this cursed inn."
'"Very well, then--throw."
'The upshot of it was that I won, and from that moment the blind
goddess smiled on me, and after another hour's play I left d'Ayen with
nothing but the clothes he stood in. What he regretted most was the
loss of his valise, in which lay some cosmetiques he valued beyond
price: he got them from Coiffier. I earned his undying friendship by
giving him back his valise, lent him his horse, which I had won, and
came off with fifty pistoles and a new man. Of course, you know that
d'Ayen has fallen on his feet?'
'I do not.'
'I'll tell you. Where the devil have you been burying yourself all
these months? You must know that the King is looking forward for
another Liancourt for a lady whom he destines for a very high place,
and d'Ayen is to be the happy man. It is an honour he fully
appreciates, and he has been kind enough to ask me to stand as one of
his sponsors at the wedding, which by the King's orders comes off in a
fortnight.'
'And you have promised?'
'Yes, it was a little amusement. They say, however, that Madame is
furious, and that her temper is worse than that of Mademoiselle
d'Entragues--who, by the way, literally flung herself at the King,
without avail. Her time will come soon enough, no doubt--but, good
gracious, man! what is the matter? You are white as a sheet.'
'It is nothing, Belin--yes, it is more than I can bear. Belin, old
friend, is there nothing that can save this lady?'
He looked at me and whistled low to himself. 'Sets the wind that way?
I did not know you had even heard of the lily of Bidache. Are you hard
hit, d'Auriac?' And he rose from his seat and put a kind hand on my
shoulder.
I jumped up furiously. 'Belin, I tell you I will stop this infamy if I
die for it! I swear before God that I will kill that man, king though
he be, like a mad dog----'
'Be still,' he said. 'What bee has stung you? You and I, d'Auriac,
come of houses too old to play the assassin. _Croix Dieu_, man! Will
you sully your shield with murder? There, drink that wine and sit down
again. That's right. You do not know what you say. I have fought
against the King, and I serve him now, and I tell you, d'Auriac, he is
the greatest of Frenchmen. And there is yet hope. Remember, a
fortnight is a fortnight.'
I ground my teeth in silent agony.
'Wait a moment,' he continued; 'a chamberlain of the court knows most
of its secrets, and I can tell you that it is not such plain sailing
as you think for d'Ayen. The death of that unhappy Gabrielle has
affected the King much. He is but now beginning to recover, and Biron,
who was hurrying to his government of Burgundy, has been ordered to
remain in close attendance on the King. Whether Biron knew of the
King's intentions or not, I do not know; but he has strongly urged the
suit of one of his gentlemen for the hand of Madame--it is that
_croquemort_ de Gomeron, with all his faults a stout soldier. It is
said that the Marshal has even pressed de Gomeron's suit with Madame,
and that rather than marry d'Ayen, and clinging to any chance for
escape, she has agreed to fall in with his views. This I heard from
the Vidame and the Chevalier de Lafin--good enough authority.'
'One alternative is as bad as the other.'
'There is no satisfying some people. Why, man! don't you see it would
be the best thing in the world for you if it was settled in favour of
our friend from the Camargue.'
'That low-born scoundrel?'
'_Mon ami_, we don't know anything about that. Give the devil his due;
he is a better man than d'Ayen. I know there is ill blood between you,
and wonder that some has not been spilt before now.'
'There will be, by God! before this is ended!'
'_Tenez!_ Let but the King agree to de Gomeron's suit--and he is hard
pressed, I tell you, for Sully even is on Biron's side in this matter,
and after that----'
'What?'
'Henry's mind will have turned another way. There are many who would
like to play queen, and few like Mesdames de Guercheville and
Bidache.'
'But in any case, Belin, I lose the game.'
'You have become very clever in your retreat, my friend. You win your
game if de Gomeron is accepted; and then----'
'And then, my wise adviser?'
'She need not marry the Camarguer. You can run him through under the
limes in the Tuileries, wed Madame, and grow cabbages at Auriac ever
after. _Pouf!_ The matter is simple!'
Miserable as I was, I fairly laughed out at Belin's plot.
Nevertheless, the hopefulness of the man, his cheery tone and happy
spirit, had their effect upon me, and if it turned out that the King
was wavering, there was more than a straw of hope floating down-stream
to me. My courage grew also when I put together Sully's words with
Belin's news that Biron was detained by the side of the King. It
surely meant that this was done to prevent the Marshal doing mischief
elsewhere. If so, I was nevertheless on the horns of a dilemma, for by
telling of the plot I would, if my story were believed, make matters
hopeless, and advance d'Ayen's cause, to the misery of the woman I
loved.
On the other hand, by keeping silent I was in an equally hard
position. My pledge to Sully prevented me from taking Belin fully into
my confidence, and, hardly knowing what I was doing, I poured myself
out another full goblet of the Chambertin, and drained it at a
draught.
'Excellent,' said Belin. 'There is nothing like Burgundy to steady the
mind; in another moment you will be yourself again, and think as I do
in this matter. Courage, man! Pick your heart up! A fortnight is a
devil of a long time, and----'
'Monsieur le Baron d'Ayen,' and Vallon threw open the door, and at its
entrance stood the coldblooded instrument of the King. He looked older
and more shrivelled than ever, but the paint was bright upon his
cheeks, his satin surcoat and puffed breeches were fresh from the
tailor's, and his hat, which he carried in his left hand, was plumed
with three long crimson marabout feathers, held in a jewelled clasp.
'My dear de Belin,' he said, bowing low, 'I trust my visit is not
inopportune? I had no idea you were engaged.'
'Never more welcome, baron. I think Monsieur le Chevalier is known to
you; sit down and help yourself to the Chambertin.'
D'Ayen bowed slightly to me, but I took no notice, and rose to depart.
'I will say good day, Belin, and many thanks for what you have done.'
'Do not retire on my account, monsieur le chevalier,' said d'Ayen in
his mocking voice. 'I come to give news to my friend here, which will
doubtless interest you. The fact is, his Majesty insists on my
marriage taking place as soon as possible, and has given instructions
for the chapel in the Louvre to be prepared for the ceremony. You
still hold good to your promise of being one of my sponsors, de
Belin?'
'If the wedding comes off--certainly.'
'Ha! ha! If it comes off! I would ask you too, monsieur,' and he
turned to me, 'but I know you have pressing business elsewhere.'
'Whatever my business may be, monsieur, there is one thing I must
attend to first, and I must request the pleasure of your company to
discuss it.'
'Ah!' he said, stroking the marabout feathers in his hat, 'that
difference of opinion we had about the woods of Bidache, eh? I see
from your face it is so. I had almost forgotten it.'
'Monsieur's memory is convenient.'
He bowed with a grin; 'I am old, but shall take care not to forget
this time----'
'Come, gentlemen,' and Belin interposed, 'the day is too young to
begin to quarrel, and if this must come to a meeting allow your
seconds to arrange the time and place. One moment, baron,' and taking
me by the arm he led me to the door. '_Malheureux!_' he whispered,
'will you upset the kettle! See me to-morrow, and adieu!' He pressed
my hand and I went out, preceded by Vallon, who must have caught
Belin's words, but whose face was as impassive as stone.