DAVID AND GOLIATH.
Toward ten o'clock in the morning the Abbe Brigaud entered D'Harmental's
room; he brought him 20,000 francs, partly in gold, partly in Spanish
paper. The duchess had passed the night at the Comtesse de Chavigny's,
in the Rue du Mail. The plans of the preceding day were in no degree
changed, and they had ascertained that the regent would pay his
accustomed visit to Chelles. At ten o'clock Brigaud and D'Harmental went
down, Brigaud to join Pompadour and Valef on the Boulevard du Temple,
and D'Harmental to visit Bathilde.
Uneasiness was at its height in the little household; Buvat was still
absent, and it was easy to see by Bathilde's eyes that she had had but
little sleep. As soon as she saw D'Harmental, she understood that some
expedition was preparing. D'Harmental again wore that dark costume in
which she had never seen him but on that evening when, on returning, he
had thrown his mantle on a chair, and displayed to her sight the pistols
in his belt. Moreover, she saw by his spurs that he expected to ride
during the day. All these things would have appeared insignificant at
any other time, but, after the nocturnal betrothal we have described,
they took a new and grave importance. Bathilde tried at first to make
the chevalier speak, but he told her that the secret she asked did not
belong to himself, and she desisted. An hour after, Nanette appeared,
with a distressed face. She came from the library; Buvat had not been
there, and no one had heard anything of him.
Bathilde could contain herself no longer; she fell into Raoul's arms,
and burst into tears. Then Raoul confessed to her his fears, and that
the papers which the pretended Prince de Listhnay had given Buvat to
copy were politically important, by which he might have been compromised
and arrested, but had nothing to fear, and that the passive part which
he had played in this affair did not endanger him in the least.
Bathilde, having feared some much greater misfortune, eagerly seized on
this idea. She did not confess to herself that the greater part of her
uneasiness was not for Buvat, and that all the tears she shed were not
for the absent.
When D'Harmental was near Bathilde, time appeared to fly; he was
astonished when he found that he had been with her an hour and a half,
and remembering that at two o'clock he had to arrange his new treaty
with Roquefinette, he rose to go. Bathilde turned pale. D'Harmental, to
reassure her, promised to come to her again after the departure of the
person he expected.
The chevalier had only been a few minutes at his window when he saw
Roquefinette appear at the corner of the Rue Montmartre. He was mounted
on a dapple-gray horse, both swift and strong, and evidently chosen by a
connoisseur. He came along leisurely, like a man to whom it is equally
indifferent whether he is seen or not. On arriving at the door he
dismounted, fastened up his horse, and ascended the stairs. As on the
day before, his face was grave and pensive, his compressed lips
indicated some fixed determination, and D'Harmental received him with a
smile, which met with no answer on the captain's face. D'Harmental at a
glance took in all these different signs.
"Well, captain," said he, "I see that you are still punctuality itself."
"It is a military habit, chevalier, and is not astonishing in an old
soldier."
"I did not doubt you, but you might not have been able to meet your
men."
"I told you I knew where to find them."
"And where are they?"
"In the horse-market at the Porte Saint Martin."
"Are you not afraid they will be noticed?"
"How should twelve or fifteen men dressed as peasants be noticed among
three hundred other peasants, buying and selling horses? It is like a
needle in a bottle of hay, which none but myself can find."
"But how can these men accompany you, captain?"
"The simplest thing in the world. Each one has bargained for the horse
which suits him. Each one has offered a price, to which the vendor
replies by another. I arrive, give to each twenty-five or thirty louis.
Every one pays for his horse, has it saddled, mounts, slips into the
holsters the pistols which he has in his belt, and, by a different
route, arrives at a given place in the Bois de Vincennes at four
o'clock. Then only I explain to them for what they are wanted. I again
distribute money, put myself at the head of my squadron, and go to the
work--supposing that you and I agree on the conditions."
"Well, these conditions, captain," said D'Harmental, "let us discuss
them, and I think I have arranged so that you will be satisfied with
what I have to offer you."
"Let us hear them," said Roquefinette, sitting down by the table.
"First, double the sum you received last time," said the chevalier.
"Ah!" said Roquefinette, "I do not care for money."
"What! you do not care for money, captain?"--"Not the least in the
world."
"What do you care for, then?"
"A position."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, chevalier, that every day I am four-and-twenty hours older, and
that with age comes philosophy."
"Well, captain," said D'Harmental, beginning to be seriously uneasy,
"what is the ambition of your philosophy?"
"I have told you, chevalier, a position suitable to my long
services--not in France, you understand. In France I have too many
enemies, beginning with the lieutenant of police; but in Spain, for
instance. Ah! that would suit me well. A fine country--beautiful
women--plenty of doubloons! Decidedly, I should like a rank in Spain."
"The thing is possible; it depends on the rank you desire."
"Well, you know, chevalier, when one is wishing, it is as well to wish
for something worth the trouble."
"You make me uneasy, monsieur," said D'Harmental, "for I have not the
seals of King Philip, to sign brevets in his name. But never mind;
speak."
"Well," said Roquefinette, "I see so many greenhorns at the heads of
regiments, that I also have thought of being a colonel."
"Colonel? Impossible!"
"Why so?"
"Because, if they make you a colonel, you who only hold a secondary
position in the affair, what am I to ask, I, who am at the head?"
"That is the very thing: I wish to change positions for the moment. You
remember what I said to you on a certain evening in the Rue du Valois?"
"Aid my memory, captain. I have unfortunately forgotten."
"I told you that if I had an affair like this to manage, things would go
better. I added that I would speak to you of it again. I do so now."
"What the devil are you talking about, captain?"
"A simple matter, chevalier. We made a first attempt together, which
failed. Then you changed batteries: you thought you could do without me,
and you failed again. The first time you failed at night, and without
noise: we each went our own way, and there was nothing known about it.
The second time, on the contrary, you failed in broad daylight, and with
an eclat which has compromised all; so that if you do not save
yourselves by a bold stroke, you are all lost, as Dubois has your names;
and to-morrow--to-night perhaps--you may be all arrested, knights,
barons, dukes, and princes. Now, there is in the world one man, and one
only, who can free you from your troubles--that man is Captain
Roquefinette, and you offer him the same place he held before! Fie,
chevalier!--you wish to bargain with him. Remember, pretensions increase
with the services to be rendered. I am now an important personage. Treat
me as such, or I put my hands in my pockets, and leave Dubois to do as
he likes."
D'Harmental bit his lips, but he understood that he had to treat with a
man who was accustomed to sell his services as dear as possible; and as
what the captain said of their necessity was literally true, he
restrained his impatience and his pride.
"Then you wish to be a colonel?"
"That is my idea."
"But suppose I make you this promise, who can answer that I have
influence enough to ratify it?"
"Oh, chevalier, I reckon on managing my little affairs myself."
"Where?"
"At Madrid."
"Who told you that I shall take you there?"
"I do not know if you will take me there, but I know that I shall go
there."
"You, to Madrid! What for?"
"To take the regent."
"You are mad."
"Come, come, chevalier, no big words. You ask my conditions; I tell them
you. They do not suit you: good-evening. We are not the worst friends
for that."
And Roquefinette rose, took his hat, and was going toward the door.
"What, are you going?"
"Certainly."
"But you forget, captain."
"Ah! it is true," said Roquefinette, intentionally mistaking
D'Harmental's meaning: "you gave me a hundred louis; I must give you an
account of them."
He took his purse from his pocket.
"A horse, thirty louis; a pair of double-barreled pistols, ten louis; a
saddle, bridle, etc., two louis; total, forty-two louis. There are
fifty-eight louis in this purse; the horse, pistols, saddle, and bridle,
are yours. Count, we are quits."
And he threw the purse on the table.
"But that is not what I have to say to you, captain."
"What is it, then?"
"That it is impossible to confide to you a mission of such importance."
"It must be so, nevertheless, or not at all. I must take the regent to
Madrid, and I alone, or he remains at the Palais Royal."
"And you think yourself worthy to take from the hands of Philippe
d'Orleans the sword which conquered at Lerida La Pucelle, and which
rested by the scepter of Louis XIV., on the velvet cushion with the
golden tassels?"
"I heard in Italy that Francis I., at the battle of Pavia, gave up his
to a butcher."
And the captain pressed his hat on his head, and once more approached
the door.
"Listen, captain," said D'Harmental, in his most conciliating tone; "a
truce to arguments and quotations; let us split the difference. I will
conduct the regent to Spain, and you shall accompany me."
"Yes, so that the poor captain may be lost in the dust which the dashing
chevalier excites, and that the brilliant colonel may throw the old
bandit into the shade! Impossible, chevalier, impossible! I will have
the management of the affair, or I will have nothing to do with it."
"But this is treason!" cried D'Harmental.
"Treason, chevalier! And where have you seen, if you please, that
Captain Roquefinette was a traitor? Where are the agreements which I
have made and not kept? Where are the secrets which I have divulged? I,
a traitor! Good heavens, chevalier, it was only the day before yesterday
that I was offered gold to betray you, and I refused! No, no! Yesterday
you came and asked me to aid you a second time. I told you that I was
ready, but on new conditions. Well, I have just told you those
conditions. Accept them or refuse them. Where do you see treason in all
this?"
"And if I was weak enough to accept these conditions, monsieur, do you
imagine that the confidence which her royal highness the Duchesse de
Maine reposes in the Chevalier d'Harmental can be transferred to Captain
Roquefinette?"
"And what has the Duchesse de Maine to remark upon in this? You
undertake a piece of business. There are material hindrances in the way
of your executing it yourself. You hand it over to me. That is all."
"That is to say," answered D'Harmental, shaking his head, "that you wish
to be free to loose the regent, if the regent offers you, for leaving
him in France, twice as much as I offer you for taking him to Spain."
"Perhaps," replied Roquefinette.
"Hearken, captain." said D'Harmental, making a new effort to retain his
sang-froid, and endeavoring to renew the negotiations, "I will give you
twenty thousand francs down."
"Trash," answered the captain.
"I will take you with me to Spain."
"Fiddlesticks."
"And I engage on my honor to obtain you a regiment."
Roquefinette began to hum a tune.
"Take care," said D'Harmental; "it is more dangerous for you now, at the
point at which we have arrived, and with the terrible secrets which you
know, to refuse than to accept."
"And what will happen, then, if I refuse?" asked Roquefinette.
"It will happen, captain, that you will not leave this room."
"And who will prevent me?"
"I!" cried D'Harmental, bounding before the door, a pistol in each hand.
"You?" said Roquefinette, making a step toward the chevalier, and then
crossing his arms and regarding him fixedly.
"One step more, captain," said the chevalier, "and I give you my word I
will blow your brains out."
"You blow my brains out--you! In the first place, it is necessary for
that, that you should not tremble like an old woman. Do you know what
you will do? You will miss me; the noise will alarm the neighbors, who
will call the guard, and they will question me as to the reasons of your
shooting at me, and I shall be obliged to tell them."
"Yes, you are right, captain," cried the chevalier, uncocking his
pistols, and replacing them in his belt, "and I shall be obliged to kill
you more honorably than you deserve. Draw, monsieur, draw."
And D'Harmental, leaning his left foot against the door, drew his sword,
and placed himself on guard. It was a court sword, a thin ribbon of
steel, set in a gold handle. Roquefinette began to laugh.
"With what shall I defend myself, chevalier? Do you happen to have one
of your mistress's knitting needles here?"
"Defend yourself with your own sword, monsieur; long as it is, you see
that I am placed so that I cannot make a step to avoid it."
"What do you think of that, my dear?" said the captain, addressing his
blade.
"It thinks that you are a coward, captain," cried D'Harmental, "since it
is necessary to strike you in the face to make you fight." And with a
movement as quick as lightning, D'Harmental cut the captain across the
face with his rapier, leaving on the cheek a long blue mark like the
mark of a whip.
Roquefinette gave a cry which might have been taken for the roaring of a
lion, and bounding back a step, threw himself on guard, his sword in his
hand. Then began between these two men a duel, terrible, hidden, silent,
for both were intent on their work, and each understood what sort of an
adversary he had to contend with. By a reaction, very easy to be
understood, it was now D'Harmental who was calm, and Roquefinette who
was excited. Every instant he menaced D'Harmental with his long sword,
but the frail rapier followed it as iron follows the loadstone, twisting
and spinning round it like a viper. At the end of about five minutes the
chevalier had not made a single lunge, but he had parried all those of
his adversary. At last, on a more rapid thrust than the others, he came
too late to the parry, and felt the point of his adversary's sword at
his breast. At the same time a red spot spread from his shirt to his
lace frill. D'Harmental saw it, and with a spring engaged so near to
Roquefinette that the hilts almost touched. The captain instantly saw
the disadvantage of his long sword in such a position. A thrust "sur les
armes" and he was lost; he made a spring backward, his foot slipped on
the newly-waxed floor, and his sword-hand rose in spite of himself.
Almost by instinct D'Harmental profited by it, lunged within, and
pierced the captain's chest, where the blade disappeared to the hilt.
D'Harmental recovered to parry in return, but the precaution was
needless; the captain stood still an instant, opened his eyes wildly,
the sword dropped from his grasp, and pressing his two hands to the
wound, he fell at full length on the floor.
"Curse the rapier!" murmured he, and expired; the strip of steel had
pierced his heart.
Still D'Harmental remained on guard, with his eyes fixed on the captain,
only lowering his sword as the dead man let his slip. Finally, he found
himself face to face with a corpse, but this corpse had its eyes open,
and continued to look at him. Leaning against the door, the chevalier
remained an instant thunderstruck; his hair bristled, his forehead
became covered with perspiration, he did not dare to move, he did not
dare to speak, his victory seemed to him a dream. Suddenly the mouth of
the dying man set in a last convulsion--the partisan was dead, and his
secret had died with him.
How to recognize, in the midst of three hundred peasants, buying and
selling horses, the twelve or fifteen pretended ones who were to carry
off the regent?
D'Harmental gave a low cry; he would have given ten years of his own
life to add ten minutes to that of the captain. He took the body in his
arms, raised it, called it, and, seeing his reddened hands, let it fall
into a sea of blood, which, following the inclination of the boards down
a channel in the floor, reached the door, and began to spread over the
threshold.
At that moment, the horse, which was tied to the shutter, neighed
violently.
D'Harmental made three steps toward the door, then he remembered that
Roquefinette might have some memorandum about him which might serve as a
guide. In spite of his repugnance, he searched the pockets of the
corpse, one after another, but the only papers he found were two or
three old bills of restaurateurs, and a love-letter from La Normande.
Then, as he had nothing more to do in that room, he filled his pockets
with gold and notes, closed the door after him, descended the stairs
rapidly, left at a gallop toward the Rue Gros Chenet, and disappeared
round the angle nearest to the Boulevard.