A Gentleman of France: Being the Memoirs of Gaston de Bonne Sieur de Marsac

by Stanley John Weyman

  CHAPTER XX. THE KING'S FACE.

  It seemed so necessary to bring home the crime to Bruhl should thepriest really perish in the trap laid for me, that I came near tofalling into one of those mistakes to which men of action are prone. Formy first impulse was to follow the priest to the Parvis, closely enough,if possible, to detect the assassins in the act, and with sufficientforce, if I could muster it, to arrest them. The credit of dissuadingme from this course lies with Simon, who pointed out its dangers inso convincing a manner that I was brought with little difficulty torelinquish it.

  Instead, acting on his advice, I sent him to M. d'Agen's lodging, to begthat young gentleman to call upon me before evening. After searchingthe lodging and other places in vain, Simon found M. d'Agen in thetennis-court at the Castle, and, inventing a crafty excuse, brought himto my lodging a full hour before the time.

  My visitor was naturally surprised to find that I had nothing particularto say to him. I dared not tell him what occupied my thoughts, andfor the rest invention failed me. But his gaiety and those prettyaffectations on which he spent an infinity of pains, for the purpose,apparently, of hiding the sterling worth of a character deficientneither in courage nor backbone, were united to much good nature.Believing at last that I had sent for him in a fit of the vapours,he devoted himself to amusing me and abusing Bruhl--a very favouritepastime with him. And in this way he made out a call of two hours.

  I had not long to wait for proof of Simon's wisdom in taking thisprecaution. We thought it prudent to keep within doors after our guest'sdeparture, and so passed the night in ignorance whether anything hadhappened or not. But about seven next morning one of the Marquis'sservants, despatched by M. d'Agen, burst in upon us with the news--whichwas no news from the moment his hurried footstep sounded on the stairsthat Father Antoine had been set upon and killed the previous evening!

  I heard this confirmation of my hopes with grave thankfulness; Simonwith so much emotion that when the messenger was gone he sat down on astool and began to sob and tremble as if he had lost his mother, insteadof a mortal foe. I took advantage of the occasion to read him a sermonon the end of crooked courses; nor could I myself recall without ashudder the man's last words to me; or the lawless and evil designs inwhich he had rejoiced, while standing on the very brink of the pit whichwas to swallow up both him and them in everlasting darkness.

  Naturally, the uppermost feeling in my mind was relief. I was free oncemore. In all probability the priest had kept his knowledge to himself,and without him his agents would be powerless. Simon, it is true, heardthat the town was much excited by the event; and that many attributedit to the Huguenots. But we did not suffer ourselves to be depressedby this, nor had I any foreboding until the sound of a second hurriedfootstep mounting the stairs reached our ears.

  I knew the step in a moment for M. d'Agen's, and something ominous inits ring brought me to my feet before he opened the door. Significant aswas his first hasty look round the room, he recovered at sight of meall his habitual SANG-FROID. He saluted me, and spoke coolly, thoughrapidly. But he panted, and I noticed in a moment that he had lost hislisp.

  'I am happy in finding you,' he said, closing the door carefully behindhim, 'for I am the bearer of ill news, and there is not a moment tobe lost. The king has signed an order for your instant consignment toprison, M. de Marsac, and, once there, it is difficult to say what maynot happen.'

  'My consignment?' I exclaimed. I may be pardoned if the news for amoment found me unprepared.

  'Yes,' he replied quickly. 'The king has signed it at the instance ofMarshal Retz.'

  'But for what?' I cried in amazement.

  'The murder of Father Antoine. You will pardon me,' he continuedurgently, 'but this is no time for words. The Provost-Marshal is evennow on his way to arrest you. Your only hope is to evade him, and gainan audience of the king. I have persuaded my uncle to go with you,and he is waiting at his lodgings. There is not a moment to belost, however, if you would reach the king's presence before you arearrested.'

  'But I am innocent!' I cried.

  'I know it,' M. d'Agen answered, 'and can prove it. But if you cannotget speech of the king innocence will avail you nothing. You havepowerful enemies. Come without more ado, M. de Marsac, I pray,' headded.

  His manner, even more than his words, impressed me with a sense ofurgency; and postponing for a time my own judgment, I hurriedly thankedhim for his friendly offices. Snatching up my sword, which lay on achair, I buckled it on; for Simon's fingers trembled so violently hecould give me no help. This done I nodded to M. d'Agen to go first, andfollowed him from the room, Simon attending us of his own motion. Itwould be then about eleven o'clock in the forenoon.

  My companion ran down the stairs without ceremony, and so quickly it wasall I could do to keep up with him. At the outer door he signed me tostand, and darting himself into the street, he looked anxiously in thedirection of the Rue St. Denys. Fortunately the coast was still clear,and he beckoned to me to follow him. I did so and starting to walk inthe opposite direction as fast as we could, in less than a minute we hadput a corner between us and the house.

  Our hopes of escaping unseen, however, were promptly dashed. The house,I have said, stood in a quiet by-street, which was bounded on thefarther side by a garden-wall buttressed at intervals. We had scarcelygone a dozen paces from my door when a man slipped from the shelter ofone of these buttresses, and after a single glance at us, set off to runtowards the Rue St. Denys.

  M. d'Agen looked back and nodded. 'There goes the news,' he said. 'Theywill try to cut us off, but I think we have the start of them.'

  I made no reply, feeling that I had resigned myself entirely into hishands. But as we passed through the Rue de Valois, in part of which amarket was held at this hour, attracting a considerable concourse ofpeasants and others, I fancied I detected signs of unusual bustle andexcitement. It seemed unlikely that news of the priest's murder shouldaffect so many people and to such a degree, and I asked M. d'Agen whatit meant.

  'There is a rumour abroad,' he answered, without slackening speed, 'thatthe king intends to move south to Tours at once.'

  I muttered my surprise and satisfaction. 'He will come to terms with theHuguenots then?' I said.

  'It looks like it,' M. d'Agen rejoined. 'Retz's party are in anill-humour on that account, and will wreak it on you if they get achance. On guard!' he added abruptly. 'Here are two of them!'

  As he spoke we emerged from the crowd, and I saw, half a dozen pacesin front; of us, and coming to meet us, a couple of Court gallants,attended by as many servants. They espied us at the same moment, andcame across the street, which was tolerably wide at that part, with theevident intention of stopping us. Simultaneously, however, we crossed totake their side, and so met them face to face in the middle of the way.

  'M. d'Agen,' the foremost exclaimed, speaking in a haughty tone, andwith a dark side glance at me, 'I am sorry to see you in such company!Doubtless you are not aware that this gentleman is the subject of anorder which has even now been issued to the Provost-Marshal.'

  'And if so, sir? What of that?' my companion lisped in his silkiesttone.

  'What of that?' the other cried, frowning, and pushing slightly forward.

  'Precisely,' M. d'Agen repeated, laying his hand on his hilt anddeclining to give back. 'I am not aware that his Majesty has appointedyou Provost-Marshal, or that you have any warrant, M. Villequier,empowering you to stop gentlemen in the public streets.'

  M. Villequier reddened with anger. 'You are young, M. d'Agen,' he said,his voice quivering, 'or I would make you pay dearly for that!'

  'My friend is not young,' M. d'Agen retorted, bowing. 'He is a gentlemanof birth, M. Villequier; by repute, as I learned yesterday, one of thebest swordsmen in France, and no Gascon. If you feel inclined to arresthim, do so, I pray. And I will have the honour of engaging your son.'

  As we had all by this time our hands on our swords, there needed but ablow to bring about one of those street brawls w
hich were more commonthen than now. A number of market-people, drawn to the spot by ourraised voices, had gathered round, and were waiting eagerly to see whatwould happen. But Villeqier, as my companion perhaps knew, was a Gasconin heart as well as by birth, and seeing our determined aspects, thoughtbetter of it. Shrugging his shoulders with an affectation of disdainwhich imposed on no one, he signalled to his servants to go on, andhimself stood aside.

  'I thank you for your polite offer,' he said with an evil smile, 'andwill remember it. But as you say, sir, I am not the Provost-Marshal.'

  Paying little heed to his words, we bowed, passed him, and hurried on.But the peril was not over. Not only had the RENCONTRE cost us someprecious minutes, but the Gascon, after letting us proceed a little way,followed us. And word being passed by his servants, as we supposed, thatone of us was the murderer of Father Antoine, the rumour spread throughthe crowd like wildfire, and in a few moments we found ourselvesattended by a troop of CANAILLE who, hanging on our skirts, caused SimonFleix no little apprehension. Notwithstanding the contempt which M.d'Agen, whose bearing throughout was admirable, expressed for them, wemight have found it necessary to turn and teach them a lesson had we notreached M. de Rambouillet's in the nick of time; where we found thedoor surrounded by half a dozen armed servants, at sight of whom ourpersecutors fell back with the cowardice which is usually found in thatclass.

  If I had been tempted of late to think M. de Rambouillet fickle, I hadno reason to complain now; whether his attitude was due to M. d'Agen'srepresentations, or to the reflection that without me the plans he hadat heart must miscarry. I found him waiting within, attended by threegentlemen, all cloaked and ready for the road; while the air of purpose,which sat on his brow indicated that he thought the crisis no commonone. Not a moment was lost, even in explanations. Waving me to the dooragain, and exchanging a few sentences with his nephew, he gave the wordto start, and we issued from the house in a body. Doubtless the factthat those who sought to ruin me were his political enemies had someweight with him; for I saw his face harden as his eyes met those of M.de Villequier, who passed slowly before the door as we came out. TheGascon, however, was not the man to interfere with so large a party, anddropped back; while M. de Rambouillet, after exchanging a cold salutewith him, led the way towards the Castle at a round pace. His nephew andI walked one on either side of him, and the others, to the number of tenor eleven, pressed on behind in a compact body, our cortege presentingso determined a front that the crowd, which had remained hanging aboutthe door, fled every way. Even some peaceable folk who found themselvesin our road took the precaution of slipping into doorways, or stoodaside to give us the full width of the street.

  I remarked--and I think it increased my anxiety--that our leaderwas dressed with more than usual care and richness, but, unlike hisattendants, wore no arms. He took occasion, as we hurried along, to giveme a word of advice. 'M. de Marsac,' he said, looking at me suddenly,'my nephew has given me to understand that you place yourself entirelyin my hands.'

  I replied that I asked for no better fortune, and, whatever the event,thanked him from the bottom of my heart.

  'Be pleased then to keep silence until I bid you speak,' he repliedsharply, for he was one of those whom a sudden stress sours andexacerbates. 'And, above all, no violence without my orders. We areabout to fight a battle, and a critical one, but it must be won with ourheads. If we can we will keep you out of the Provost-Marshal's hands.'

  And if not? I remembered the threats Father Antoine had used, and ina moment I lost sight of the street with all its light and life andmovement. I felt no longer the wholesome stinging of the wind. I tastedinstead a fetid air, and saw round me a narrow cell and masked figures,and in particular a swarthy man is a leather apron leaning over abrazier, from which came lurid flames. And I was bound. I experiencedthat utter helplessness which is the last test of courage. The mancame forward, and then--then, thank God! the vision passed away.An exclamation to which M. d'Agen gave vent, brought me back to thepresent, and to the blessed knowledge that the fight was not yet over.

  We were within a score of paces, I found, of the Castle gates; but sowere also a second party, who had just debouched from a side-street, andnow hurried on, pace for pace, with us, with the evident intention offorestalling us, The race ended in both companies reaching the entranceat the same time, with the consequence of some jostling taking placeamongst the servants. This must have led to blows but for the strenuouscommands which M. de Rambouillet had laid upon his followers. I foundmyself in a moment confronted by a row of scowling faces, while a dozenthreatening hands were stretched out towards me, and as many voices,among which I recognised Fresnoy's, cried out tumultuously, 'That is he!That is the one!'

  An elderly man in a quaint dress stepped forward, a paper in his hand,and, backed as he was by half a dozen halberdiers, would in a momenthave laid hands on me if M. de Rambouillet had not intervened with anegligent air of authority, which sat on him the more gracefully as heheld nothing but a riding-switch in his hands. 'Tut, tut! What is this?'he said lightly. 'I am not wont to have my people interfered with, M.Provost, without my leave. You know me, I suppose?'

  'Perfectly, M. le Marquis,' the man answered with dogged respect; 'butthis is by the king's special command.'

  'Very good,' my patron answered, quietly eyeing the faces behind theProvost-Marshal, as if he were making a note of them; which caused someof the gentlemen manifest uneasiness. 'That is soon seen, for we areeven now about to seek speech with his Majesty.'

  'Not this gentleman,' the Provost-Marshal answered firmly, raising hishand again. 'I cannot let him pass.'

  'Yes, this gentleman too, by your leave,' the Marquis retorted, lightlyputting the hand aside with his cane.

  'Sir,' said the other, retreating a step, and speaking with some heat,'this is no jest with all respect. I hold the king's own order, and itmay not be resisted.'

  The nobleman tapped his silver comfit-box and smiled. 'I shall be thelast to resist it--if you have it,' he said languidly.

  'You may read it for yourself,' the Provost-Marshal answered, hispatience exhausted.

  M. de Rambouillet took the parchment with the ends of his fingers,glanced at it, and gave it back. 'As I thought,' he said, 'a manifestforgery.'

  'A forgery!' cried the other, crimson with indignation. 'And I hadit from the hands of the king's own secretary!' At this those behindmurmured, some 'shame,' and some one thing and some another--all withan air so threatening that the Marquis's gentlemen closed up behind him,and M. d'Agen laughed rudely.

  But M. de Rambouillet remained unmoved. 'You may have had it from whomyou please, sir,' he said. 'It is a forgery, and I shall resist itsexecution. If you choose to await me here, I will give you my word torender this gentleman to you within an hour, should the order hold good.If you will not wait, I shall command my servants to clear the way, andif ill happen, then the responsibility will lie with you.'

  He spoke in so resolute a manner it was not difficult to see thatsomething more was at stake than the arrest of a single man. This wasso; the real issue was whether the king, with whose instability it wasdifficult to cope, should fall back into the hands of his old advisersor not. My arrest was a move in the game intended as a counterblast tothe victory which M. de Rambouillet had gained when he persuaded theking to move to Tours; a city in the neighbourhood of the Huguenots, anda place of arms whence union with them would be easy.

  The Provost-Marshal could, no doubt, make a shrewd guess at thesethings. He knew that the order he had would be held valid or notaccording as one party or the other gained the mastery; and, seeing M.de Rambouillet's resolute demeanour, he gave way. Rudely interruptedmore than once by his attendants, among whom were some of Bruhl's men,he muttered an ungracious assent to our proposal; on which, and withouta moment's delay, the Marquis took me by the arm and hurried me acrossthe courtyard.

  And so far, well. My heart began to rise. But, for the Marquis, as wemounted the staircase the anxiety he had dissem
bled while we faced theProvost-Marshal, broke out in angry mutterings; from which I gatheredthat the crisis was yet to come. I was not surprised, therefore, when anusher rose on our appearance in the antechamber, and, quickly crossingthe floor, interposed between us and the door of the chamber, informingthe Marquis with a low obeisance that his Majesty was engaged.

  'He will see me,' M. de Rambouillet cried, looking haughtily round onthe sneering pages and lounging courtiers, who grew civil under his eye.

  'I have particular orders, sir, to admit so one,' the man answered.

  'Tut, tut, they do not apply to me,' my companion retorted, nothingdaunted. 'I know the business on which the king is engaged, and Iam here to assist him.' And raising his hand he thrust the startledofficial aside, and hardily pushed the doors of the chamber open.

  The king, surrounded by half a dozen persons, was in the act of puttingon his riding-boots. On hearing us, he turned his head with a startledair, and dropped in his confusion one of the ivory cylinders he wasusing; while his aspect, and that of the persons who stood round him,reminded me irresistibly of a party of schoolboys detected in a fault.

  He recovered himself, it is true, almost immediately; and turning hisback to us? continued to talk to the persons round him on such triflingsubjects as commonly engaged him. He carried on this conversation ina very free way, studiously ignoring our presence; but it was plain heremained aware of it, and even that he was uneasy under the cold andsevere gaze which the Marquis, who seemed in nowise affrighted by hisreception, bent upon him.

  I, for my part, had no longer any confidence. Nay, I came near toregretting that I had persevered in an attempt so useless. The warrantwhich awaited me at the gates seemed less formidable than his Majesty'sgrowing displeasure; which I saw I was incurring by remaining whereI was. It needed not the insolent glance of Marshal Retz, who loungedsmiling by the king's hand, or the laughter of a couple of pages whostood at the head of the chamber, to deprive me of my last hope; whilesome things which might have cheered me--the uneasiness of someabout the king, and the disquietude which underlay Marshal Retz'smanner--escaped my notice altogether.

  What I did see clearly was that the king's embarrassment was fastchanging to anger. The paint which reddened his cheeks prevented tinyalteration in his colour being visible, but his frown and the nervousmanner in which he kept taking off and putting on his jewelled capbetrayed him. At length, signing to one of his companions to follow,he moved a little aside to a window, whence, after a few moments, thegentleman came to us.

  'M. de Rambouillet,' he said, speaking coldly and formally, 'his Majestyis displeased by this gentleman's presence, and requires him to withdrawforthwith.'

  'His Majesty's word is law,' my patron answered, bowing low, andspeaking in a clear voice audible throughout; the chamber, 'but thematter which brings this gentleman here is of the utmost importance, andtouches his Majesty's person.'

  M. de Retz laughed jeeringly. The other courtiers looked grave. Theking shrugged his shoulders with a peevish gesture, but after a moment'shesitation, during which he looked first at Retz and then at M. deRambouillet, he signed to the Marquis to approach.

  'Why have you brought him here?' he muttered sharply, looking askance atme. 'He should have been bestowed according to my orders.'

  'He has information for your Majesty's private ear,' Rambouilletanswered. And he looked so meaningly at the king that Henry, I think,remembered on a sudden his compact with Rosny, and my part in it; forhe started with the air of a man suddenly awakened. 'To prevent thatinformation reaching you, sire,' my patron continued, 'his enemies havepractised on your Majesty's well-known sense of justice.'

  'Oh, but stay, stay!' the king cried, hitching forward the scanty cloakhe wore, which barely came down to his waist. 'The man has killed apriest! He has killed a priest, man!'

  He repeated with confidence, as if he had now got hold of the rightargument.

  That is not so, sire, craving your Majesty's pardon, M. de Rambouillet;replied with the utmost coolness.

  'Tut! Tut! The evidence is clear,' the king said peevishly.

  'As to that, sire,' my companion rejoined, 'if it is of the murder ofFather Antoine he is accused, I say boldly that there is none.'

  'Then there you are mistaken!' the king answered. 'I heard it with myown ears this morning.'

  'Will you deign, sire, to tell me its nature?' M. de Rambouilletpersisted.

  But on that Marshal Retz thought it necessary to intervene. 'Need weturn his Majesty's chamber into a court of justice?' he said smoothly.Hitherto he had not spoken; trusting, perhaps, to the impression he hadalready made upon the king.

  M. de Rambouillet took no notice of him.

  'But Bruhl,' said the king, 'you see, Bruhl says--'

  'Bruhl!' my companion replied, with so much contempt that Henry started.'Surely your Majesty has not taken his word against this gentleman, ofall people?'

  Thus reminded, a second time, of the interests entrusted to me, andof the advantage which Bruhl would gain by my disappearance, the kinglooked first confused, and then angry. He vented his passion in one ortwo profane oaths, with the childish addition that we were all a set oftraitors, and that he had no one whom he could trust. But my companionhad touched the right chord at last; for when the king grew morecomposed, he waved aside Marshal Retz's protestations, and sullenly badeRambouillet say what he had to say.

  'The monk was killed, sire, about sunset,' he answered. 'Now my nephew,M. d'Agen, is without, and will tell your Majesty that he was with thisgentleman at his lodgings from about an hour before sunset last eveninguntil a full hour after. Consequently, M. de Marsac can hardly be theassassin, and M. le Marechal must look elsewhere if he wants vengeance.'

  'Justice, sir, not vengeance.' Marshal Retz said with a dark glance. Hiskeen Italian face hid his trouble well, but a little pulse of passionbeating in his olive cheek betrayed the secret to those who knew him.He had a harder part to play than his opponent; for while Rambouillet'shands were clean, Retz knew himself a traitor, and liable at any momentto discovery and punishment.

  'Let M. d'Agen be called,' Henry said curtly.

  'And if your Majesty pleases,' Retz added, 'M. de Bruhl also, If youreally intend, sire, that is, to reopen a matter which I thought hadbeen settled.'

  The king nodded obstinately, his face furrowed with ill-temper. He kepthis shifty eyes, which seldom met those of the person he addressed, onthe floor; and this accentuated the awkward stooping carriage which wasnatural to him. There were seven or eight dogs of exceeding smallness inthe room, and while we waited for the persons who had been summoned, hekicked, now one and now another of the baskets which held them, as if hefound in this some vent for his ill-humour.

  The witnesses presently appeared, followed by several persons, amongwhom were the Dukes of Nevers and Mercoeur, who came to ride out withthe king, and M. de Crillon; so that the chamber grew passably full.The two dukes nodded formally to the Marquis, as they passed him, butentered into a muttered conversation with Retz, who appeared to beurging them to press his cause. They seemed to decline, however,shrugging their short cloaks as if the matter were too insignificant.Crillon on his part cried audibly, and with an oath, to know what thematter was; and being informed, asked whether all this fuss was beingmade about a damned shaveling monk.

  Henry, whose tenderness for the cowl was well known, darted an angryglance at him, but contented himself with saying sharply to M. d'Agen,'Now, sir, what do you know about the matter?'

  'One moment, sire,' M. Rambouillet cried, interposing before Francoiscould answer. 'Craving your Majesty's pardon, you have heard M. deBruhl's account. May I, as a favour to myself, beg you, sire, to permitus also to hear it?'

  'What?' Marshal Retz exclaimed angrily, 'are we to be the judges, then,or his Majesty? Arnidieu!' he continued hotly, 'what, in the fiend'sname, have we to do with it? I protest 'fore Heaven--'

  'Ay, sir, and what do you protest?' my champion retorted, turning to himwith stern disdain.<
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  'Silence!' cried the king who had listened almost bewildered. 'Silence!By God, gentlemen,' he continued, his eye travelling round the circlewith a sparkle of royal anger in it not unworthy of his crown, 'youforget yourselves. I will have none of this quarrelling in my presenceor out of it. I lost Quelus and Maugiron that way, and loss enough, andI will have none of it, I say! M. de Bruhl,' he added, standing erect,and looking for the moment, with all his paint and frippery, a king, 'M.de Bruhl, repeat your story.'

  The feelings with which I listened to this controversy may be imagined.Devoured in turn by hope and fear as now one side and now the otherseemed likely to prevail, I confronted at one moment the gloom of thedungeon, and at another tasted the air of freedom, which had neverseemed so sweet before. Strong as these feelings were, however, theygave way to curiosity at this point; when I heard Bruhl called, and sawhim come forward at the king's command. Knowing this man to be himselfguilty, I marvelled with what face he would present himself before allthose eyes, and from what depths of impudence he could draw supplies insuch an emergency.

  I need not have troubled myself, however, for he was fully equal to theoccasion. His high colour and piercing black eyes met the gaze of friendand foe alike without flinching. Dressed well and elegantly, he worehis raven hair curled in the mode, and looked alike gay, handsome, andimperturbable. If there was a suspicion of coarseness about his bulkierfigure, as he stood beside M. d'Agen, who was the courtier perfectand point devise, it went to the scale of sincerity, seeing that mennaturally associate truth with strength.

  'I know no more than this, sire,' he said easily; 'that, happening tocross the Parvis at the moment of the murder, I heard Father Antoinescream. He uttered four words only, in the tone of a man in mortalperil. They were'--and here the speaker looked for an instant atme--'Ha! Marsac! A moi!'

  'Indeed!' M. de Rambouillet said, after looking to the king forpermission. 'And that was all? You saw nothing?'

  Bruhl shook his head. 'It was too dark,' he said.

  'And heard no more?'

  'No.'

  'Do I understand, then,' the Marquis continued slowly, 'that M. deMarsac is arrested because the priest--God rest his soul!--cried to himfor help?'

  'For help?' M. de Retz exclaimed fiercely.

  'For help?' said the king, surprised. And at that the most; ludicrouschange fell upon the faces of all. The king looked puzzled, the Dukeof Nevers smiled, the Duke of Mercoeur laughed aloud. Crillon criedboisterously, 'Good hit!' and the majority, who wished no better than todivine the winning party, grinned broadly, whether they would or no.

  To Marshal Retz, however, and Bruhl, that which to everyone else seemedan amusing retort had a totally different aspect; while the formerturned yellow with chagrin and came near to choking, the latter lookedas chapfallen and startled as if his guilt; had been that moment broughthome to him. Assured by the tone of the monk's voice--which must,indeed, have thundered in his ears--that my name was uttered indenunciation by one who thought me his assailant, he had chosen to tellthe truth without reflecting that words, so plain to him, might; bear adifferent construction when repeated.

  'Certainly the words seem ambiguous,' Henry muttered.

  'But it was Marsac killed him,' Retz cried in a rage.

  'It is for some evidence of that we are waiting,' my champion answeredsuavely.

  The Marshal looked helplessly at Nevers and Mercoeur, who commonly tookpart with him; but apparently those noblemen had not been primedfor this occasion. They merely shook their heads and smiled. In themomentary silence which followed, while all looked curiously at Bruhl,who could not conceal his mortification, M. d'Agen stepped forward.

  'If your Majesty will permit me,' he said, a malicious simper crossinghis handsome face--I had often remarked his extreme dislike for Bruhlwithout understanding it--'I think I can furnish some evidence moreto the point than that; to which M. de Bruhl has with so much fairnessrestricted himself.' He then went on to state that he had had the honourof being in my company at the time of the murder; and he added, besides,so many details as to exculpate me to the satisfaction of any candidperson.

  The king nodded. 'That settles the matter,' he said, with a sigh ofrelief. 'You think so, Mercoeur, do you not? Precisely. Villequier, seethat the order respecting M. de Marsac is cancelled.'

  M. de Retz could not control his wrath on hearing this direction given.'At this rate,' he cried recklessly, 'we shall have few priests lefthere! We have got a bad name at Blois, as it is!'

  For a moment all in the circle held their breath, while the king's eyesflashed fire at this daring allusion to the murder of the Duke de Guise,and his brother the Cardinal. But it was Henry's misfortune to be everindulgent in the wrong place, and severe when severity was either unjustor impolitic. He recovered himself with an effort, and revenged himselfonly by omitting to invite the Marshal, who was now trembling in hisshoes, to join his riding-party.

  The circle broke up amid some excitement. I stood on one side with M.d'Agen, while the king and his immediate following passed out, and,greatly embarrassed as I was by the civil congratulating of many whowould have seen me hang with equal goodwill, I was sharp enough to seethat something was brewing between Bruhl and Marshal Retz, who stoodback conversing in low tones. I was not surprised, therefore, whenthe former made his way towards me through the press which filled theantechamber, and with a lowering brow requested a word with me.

  'Certainly,' I said, watching him narrowly, for I knew him to be bothtreacherous and a bully. 'Speak on, sir.'

  'You have balked me once and again,' he rejoined, in a voice which shooka little, as did the fingers with which he stroked his waxed moustache.'There is no need of words between us. I, with one sword besides, willto-morrow at noon keep the bridge at Chaverny, a league from here. Itis an open country. Possibly your pleasure may lead you to ride that waywith a friend?'

  'You may depend upon me, sir,' I answered, bowing low, and feelingthankful that the matter was at length to be brought to a fair and openarbitration. 'I will be there--and in person. For my deputy last night,'I added, searching his face with a steadfast eye, 'seems to have beensomewhat unlucky.'