MONSIEUR RAVAILLAC DOES NOT SUIT
In the excitement attendant in my scuffle with d'Ayen and the
subsequent events, ending in my escape from the clutches of the watch,
I had for the moment clean forgot Ravaillac's fit of frenzy. I slept
profoundly, and towards morning was half awakened by an uneasy feeling
that there was someone in the room. This passed away; but a short time
after I awoke with a start, and looking around saw Ravaillac bending
over some of my things which were lying in a corner of the room. As I
looked at him the full recollection of his strange behaviour came back
to me, and, a slight movement on my part attracting his attention, he
bade me a civil good-morning. He made no mention, however, of his
illness, nor did he excuse himself in any way, but set about his
duties in a quiet, cat-like manner.
Whilst he moved softly about, I began to piece together the noise of
the stumble I had heard outside my door when about to set out with
Palin, with Madame Pantin's warning and the scene in the loft. It
struck me that his seizure might after all be a blind, and I
determined to question the man, and, by watching the play of his
features and noting his manner of reply, try and discover if there was
anything to show that my idea was correct.
Pretending, therefore, to be unaware of what had passed, I asked:
'How was it you were not in to receive me last night, Ravaillac?'
There was a quick up-and-down movement of the long grey eyes, and he
answered:
'I was ill, monsieur; I trust Monsieur le Chevalier is not hurt?'
'Hurt! Why should I be?'
'Monsieur will pardon me, but I thought it possible.'
'How so?'
'Monsieur's clothes were dripping wet when I first came in, and his
rapier stained full six inches from the point when I drew it out of
its sheath to clean it this morning. It looked like an arm-thrust, and
I thought----'
'Never mind what you thought. I had a slight affair last night, but
was not hurt.' It was clear to me that he was trying to carry the war
into my country, as it were, by counter-questions to mine. I therefore
cut him short, and added:
'Your illness came and went very suddenly. Are you often taken that
way?'
'Then Monsieur knows----'
'A great many things, perhaps; but kindly answer my question.'
It may have been fancy or not; but it seemed to me that, as once
before, I saw the wraith of a smile flit stealthily along his thin
lips. He was standing in front of me, holding my rapier, and his eyes
were bent down on the polished steel hilt as I spoke.
At first he made no answer, and I repeated my question. This time he
looked me full in the face, and the whole expression of the man
changed--his cheeks paled, his eyes dilated, his voice took a shrill
pitch.
'I cannot tell, monsieur. It comes and goes like the wind. There is a
Fear that falls on me--a Fear and something, I know not what, beside;
but all before my eyes is red--red as if it rained blood--and then a
myriad of devils are whispering in my ears, and there is no safety for
me but the cross and prayer. It has passed now--God be thanked! Will
Monsieur not take his sword?'
His voice dropped again to its low, soft note as he ended, and handed
me my rapier. I buckled it on, thinking to myself, 'My friend, you are
either a lunatic at large or a finished actor. In either case you
won't do for me.' I said no more, however, but when he gave me my hat
he asked:
'Will Monsieur require me in attendance?'
'Yes. I go to the Hotel de Belin, and I trust this will be the last of
your attacks whilst you are with me. The Compte told me you had been a
Flagellant, but had recovered.'
'I have been well for a long time, monsieur,' he answered, taking my
humour--'I will try and get ill no more.'
'I am glad of that. Saddle Couronne. I go out at once--you can follow
on foot.'
'Monsieur.'
The next moment he was gone, and I heard him running down the stairs.
It would take a few minutes to get Couronne ready, but I followed him
down at once, as I had an inquiry to make from Madame Pantin. I heard
someone moving below in the kitchen, and, thinking it was dame
Annette, called down the winding stair:
'Madame--Madame Pantin!'
'Madame is out; but is there anything I can do for Monsieur?' And the
notary appeared below, a dim outline, clad in his dressing-gown, with
a woollen cap on his head.
I went down to him and asked:
'Pantin, do you know if Ravaillac was out last night?'
'I would have told Monsieur there and then when he came in from his
swim in the Seine. No, for I watched and saw him sleeping in the loft.'
'Are you sure?'
'As I am of being here.'
'Thanks! Madame is out early?'
'She has gone to the Rue Varenne; but, monsieur, be careful of that
Ravaillac.'
I nodded my head, and then, raising my voice: 'I dine at the Two Ecus
as usual--good day!'
'Good day, monsieur!'
Couronne was at the door, Ravaillac at her head, and, mounting, I went
at a walking pace towards the Pont au Change, my servant a yard or so
behind. It was my intention to see de Belin, to ask him to find out if
I was in any danger owing to last night's folly or misadventure--call
it what you will--and to beg his advice on the course I was to pursue.
I had been recognised by d'Ayen. My name was known to those with him,
and any trouble with the Hotel de Ville meant hopeless disaster. I had
almost made up my mind to conceal myself somewhere until the day of
flight; but, before taking any action, thought it advisable to consult
my friend, and to return Ravaillac to his service.
On my way to the Rue de Bourdonnais, however, I began to turn the
matter of Ravaillac over again in my mind, and found myself between
the hedge and the ditch. If I got rid of him, the man, if he was a
spy, could watch me in secret; if I kept him with me, the same thing
happened. After all, whilst with me he had greater opportunities, and
the less of the two evils was to be rid of him--yes, it would be
better so.
Imagine my disappointment when reaching his hotel to find that Belin
was out! Vallon begged me to wait, explaining that his master had been
absent for so long a time that his return would be but a matter of
minutes. He had supped out the night before with de Vitry, the Captain
of the Scots Guards, and M. le Grand, had come back late, and gone
forth very early in the morning, and it was now full time he was back.
I determined therefore to wait, though every moment was of importance
to me, and, after a half-hour of patience in an easy chair, rose and
walked towards the window, to while away the time by watching what was
going on below. One of the heavy brocade curtains was half drawn, and
without thinking of it I came up towards that side, and looked out
from behind its cover. It struck me as strange that my horse was
without the gate, instead of being within the courtyard, and
Ravaillac, with the reins thrown over his shoulder, was engaged in
converse with a cavalier whose back was turned to me, and whose head
was entirely concealed by his broad-brimmed hat and long plumes.
But the tall, straight figure, with its stretch of shoulder, could not
be mistaken. It was de Gomeron to a certainty, and my doubts on the
point were soon at rest. Keeping as far as possible within the shadow
of the curtain, I watched them for full five minutes whilst they
conversed together earnestly, and then something changed hands between
them. Finally, the cavalier left Ravaillac with a nod to his salute,
and crossed over to the other side of the road, where a mounted lackey
was holding his horse. As he gained the saddle, he turned his face
towards me for an instant. There was no shadow of doubt left. It
was de Gomeron, and it was clear that there was more between the
free-lance and Ravaillac than there should be, and also I was
convinced, I know not how, that what had passed between them touched
me, and was not for my good. What object the man had to play traitor I
cannot say; but I do know that there are some natures to whom double
dealing is as their skin, and whom nothing can turn from falsehood and
chicane.
Be this as it may, I knew at any rate the grass where one viper lay,
and made up my mind to blunt his fangs without any further delay. I
gave de Belin another half-hour, and then, calling Vallon, left a
message with him, begging my friend to see me at my lodging on a
matter of the utmost moment. As soon as I was in the saddle, I bent
forwards, and, looking Ravaillac full in the face, said: 'My friend,
you have too many acquaintances for my service; I return you from this
moment to Monsieur le Compte.'
'I do not understand, monsieur,' he began to stammer; but I cut him
short.
'I spoke clearly enough. I do not require your services further. You
are discharged. Take this,' and flinging him a couple of gold pieces,
which the scoundrel swooped at like a hawk, I turned the mare's head
and trotted off.
I made a short cut down a side street, and, in so doing, had an
opportunity of taking a last look at my man. He was standing talking
to Vallon, and moving his hands in my direction.
'Reeling out lies by the dozen,' I muttered to myself. 'If I mistake
not, there will be another place lost to you by sundown.'
I let myself in by the stable entrance, and, after attending to
Couronne, entered the house. There was apparently not a soul within. I
sought the lower apartments in the hope of finding either the notary
or his wife, to explain to them my action in regard to Ravaillac; but
neither of them was visible. There was no answer to my call. There
could not be a soul in the house.
I determined, therefore, to go up to my room and await de Belin's
coming, and on my opening the door of my sitting-room saw, to my
surprise, a man apparently dozing in my armchair. The noise of my
entrance awoke him. He jumped up, and I recognised my friend.
'Belin! what good wind has blown you here? But how did you come in?
There is no one in the house?'
'There was when I came in, my friend. Do you know'--and he looked me
in the face--'You have made a mess of things.'
'You know already! Belin, I have just been to see you about it. The
whole affair was forced on me.'
'Partly. It was lucky I was there, and sober enough to think of
cutting the cord of the lamp. You vanished, as I thought you would,
and I have been attending to your affairs since then; any other man
would have been laid by the heels ere this, but the stars fought for
you.'
'Any other man who had not a friend like you, Lisois. But do you
really mean that I am safe from arrest?'
'I think so, from any count under the Edict of Blois; but I had a
devil of a dance. First of all, the catchpoles insisted upon turning
their attentions towards me, and I only got off on the testimony of M.
le Baron, who after all is but scratched, though spoiling for revenge.
Then I rushed off to de Villeroi; but he, full of his new office as
governor of the Hotel, hummed and hawed--would hear of nothing, he
said, until you were provided with a lodging in Fort l'Eveque, and
talked big of the law and its course. However, I had an argument to
persuade him: little birds twitter odd things into the ears of a
chamberlain, sometimes, and he agreed to hold over the matter for a
few hours until I had seen the King.'
'The King!'
'Why not, _mon ami?_ With the first streak of light I went to see a
friend who shall be nameless, but is a power in the land. An hour
later I was at the Louvre and at his Majesty's bedside. Henry was in
high good humour. He had won nine thousand crowns last night from the
invincible Portuguese, de Pimental. Almost as great a victory as
Arques, he said. I related the whole of the circumstances without
mentioning your name, and, pledging my word that d'Ayen would be about
by this afternoon, begged for a pardon.'
'But the King of course asked for my name.'
'Of course he did, and, in reply, I said I would bring you in person
to the Louvre this afternoon: then by good chance Sully himself came
in. His lands of Muret march with mine, and Monseigneur is my very
good friend. The King began to put him the case, to which Sully
listened without a movement, except an occasional glance at a roll of
documents in his hand, and when Henry finished said, with a smile--
"'A trifle, sire, that may well be left to M. de Villeroi; perhaps,
however, sire, your Majesty might agree to de Belin's petition. There
is a spice of mystery about it, which even interests me. I have,
however, brought these papers on the Gabelle."
"'_Diable!_ Salty, but hardly a relish--let it be as you wish, Belin;
and now for my salt without any soup." I took the hint, as may be
imagined, and went straight back to Villeroi, and the matter being now
in the hands of the King, he will of course take no action.'
'You have been goodness itself.'
'My dear fellow, let that rest! All that you have to do now is to come
with me this afternoon, put your case to the King, and I lay a hundred
crowns to a tester you hear no more--of the little affair of last
night.'
As he said this, looking me full in the face, with a peculiar stress
on the last words of his speech, a sudden light came upon me. Sully's
lands marched with those of de Belin. They were friends. Sully did
not, for reasons of his own, wish it known that he took an interest in
my mission, and the rest was easy to guess.
'_Pardieu!_ That little thrust through the sword arm of M. le Baron
is, after all, not so unlucky--eh! Belin? At least, for our very good
lord of Muret and Villebon.'
But Lisois only laughed in reply, as he said: 'Add a cat falling on
its feet from a church steeple to your scutcheon, d'Auriac. Shall I
get Rouge Croix to prick the new coat of arms?'
'As you will; you have made my heart, which was heavy as lead, light
once more--I feel now that I am not playing a hopeless game.'
'The proper feeling to have, whatever the hazard be. With all your
northern blood, d'Auriac, you should not have so many nerves.'
'You forget my mother was of the south.'
'True, of the Foix Candale. You will die a Huguenot. But I must be
going. Meet me at the Rue de Bourdonnais at one, exactly, and I will
take you to the Louvre, and now good-bye!' He rose and gave me his
hand.
'But, surely, there is no need for you to go now? Dine with me at my
ordinary; I have much to tell you.'
_Tap_! _tap_! _tap!_ It was dame Annette's little knock at my door,
and I knew it was something of import that had brought her to my room.
'One moment, Belin!' and, opening the door, I saw Madame Pantin
standing there in breathless agitation.
'What is it, madame? Come in, and speak freely; there is only my
friend the Compte de Belin here.'
'It is nothing, monsieur,' she said loudly, and then, dropping her
voice to a whisper, 'Ravaillac was out last night. Pantin was
deceived. I have come up to tell you so at once: be rid of him. I am
asked to tell you this by a friend.'
'A hundred thanks! I have parted with him, and he will not trouble us
more. But who is this friend who takes so great an interest in me?'
'You have company, monsieur,' she answered, with a bobbing courtesy,
'I will not intrude longer.' And, without another word, she turned and
went away.
When I looked back, Belin was smoothing the plumes in his hat and
laughing. 'I heard every word, d'Auriac. So Ravaillac is a mouchard,
is he? And you have sent him back to me.'
'I have,' I answered, and then I told my friend what had happened.
His face was grave enough when I ended.
'So that explains one thing,' he muttered to himself, tapping the
point of his boot with the end of his sheathed rapier, and then,
looking up, said slowly, 'You were right, and he shall sleep in Fort
l'Eveque to-night. No, I cannot stay. Be punctual--and see here.' He
came close up to me, and rested his hand on my shoulder.
'Though you do not know it, your game forms part of a bigger game
played for higher stakes. There are those who love France, and would
have no more madness such as that over poor Gabrielle--we are helping
you with heart and soul. Be punctual--and adieu. No, I can go out by
myself; do not trouble to come down.'
He was gone, and I paced up and down for a quarter of an hour, feeling
like a pawn that some unseen hand was moving hither and thither on the
chessboard of intrigue. And then I went to my solitary dinner at the
Two Ecus.