CHAPTER XXVI.
FIRST COUNCIL OF WAR
There was more than one council of war within the bounds of the circleof hills that closed in little Collioure that night.
First, that which was held within the kitchen-place of La Masane. Themaids were busied with the cattle, but all three brothers were there.The Senora, sloe-eyed and vivid, continually interrupted, now by spokenword, now trotting to the steaming _casseroles_ upon the fire, anondarting to the door to make sure that this time no unwelcome visitorshould steal upon them at unawares.
When Claire had told her story, the three men sat grave and silent, eachdeep in his own thoughts. Only the Senora was voluble in herastonishment. She thought she knew her foster-child.
"He had, indeed, ever the grasping hand," she said, "therefore I hadthought he would have married lands wide and rich with some dwarfishbride, or else a merchant's daughter of Barcelona, whose Peruviandollars needed the gilding of his nobility. But Claire--and she is hiscousin too----!"
"Also no Catholic--nor ever will be!" interrupted Claire hotly.
The old lady sighed. This was a sore subject with her. Had she notspent three reals every week in candles at the shrine of the Virgin inthe Church of Collioure, sending down the money by one of her maidens,all to give effect to her prayers for the conversion of her guest? ForDonna Amelie believed, as every Spanish woman does in her heart believe,that out of the fold of the Church is no salvation.
"Ah, well," she murmured on this occasion, "that was your father'steaching--on him be the sin."
For dying unconfessed, as Francis Agnew had done, she thought a littlemore would not matter.
"I have been too long away to guess his meaning, maybe," said theProfessor at last; "for me--I would give--well, no matter--he is not theman, as I read him, to fall honestly in love even with the fairest girlthat lives----!"
"You are not polite," said Claire defiantly; "surely the man may like mefor myself as well as another? Allow him that, at least!"
But the Professor only put out his hand as if to quiet a fretting child.It was a serious question, that which was before them to settle. Theymust work it out with slow masculine persistence.
"Wait a little, Claire," he said tenderly; "what say my brothers?" TheAlcalde in turn shook his head more gravely than usual.
"No," he said, "there is something rascally at the back of Don Raphael'sbrain. I will wager that he knew of his cousin being here the firstnight he came to La Masane!"
"I have it," cried Don Jordy; "I remember there was something in hisgrandfather's will (yours, too, my pretty lady!) about a portion to belaid aside for his daughter Colette. I have seen a copy of the deed inthe episcopal registry. It was very properly drawn by one of mypredecessors. Now, old Don Emmanuel-Stephane Llorient lived so long thatall his sons died or got themselves killed before him--it never was ahard matter to pick a quarrel with a Llorient of Collioure. So thisgrandson Raphael had his grandfather's estates to play ducks and drakeswith----"
"More ducks than drakes," put in the sententious miller.
"Also," the lawyer continued, without heeding, "I would wager thatto-day there is but little left of the patrimony of little Colette, yourmother, and----"
"He would marry you to hide his misuse of your money!" cried the miller,slapping his thigh, as if he had discovered the whole plotsingle-handed.
"Exactly," said Don Jordy, "he would cover his misappropriation with thecloak of marriage. I warrant also he has lied to the King as to theamount of the legacy, perhaps denying that there was any benefice atall--saying that he had paid the amount to your father--or what not! Andour most catholic Philip can forgive all sins except those which losehim money--so Master Raphael finds himself in a tight place!"
The silence which followed Don Jordy's exposition was a solemn one--thatis, to all except Claire, who only pouted a little with ostentatiousdiscontent.
"I don't believe a word of it," she cried; "money or no money,will or no will, it is just as possible that he wants to marryme--because--because he wants to marry me! There!"
But the Senora knew better.
"True it is, my little lady," she said, nodding her head, "that any manmight wisely and gladly crave your love and your hand--aye, any honestman, were he a king's son (here Claire thought of a certain son ofSaint Louis, many times removed, now mending his shoes on the corner ofa farrier's anvil in the camp of the Bearnais)--an honest man, I said.But not Raphael Llorient, your cousin, and my foster-son. He never had athought but for himself since he was a babe, and even then he wouldthrust Don Jordy there aside, as if I had not been his mother. I was astrong woman in those days, and suckled twins--or what is harder, afoster-child and mine own, doing justice to both!"
And Claire, a little awed by the old lady's vehemence, jested no more.
There was little said till Donna Amelie took Claire up with her to herchamber, and the three men were left alone. The Professor sighed deeply.
"Women are kittle handling," he said. "I brought you a little orphanmaid. I knew, indeed, that she was Colette Llorient's daughter, and thatthere was some risk in that. But with her cousin Raphael, wistful tomarry her for a rich heiress, whose property he has squandered--that ismore than I reckoned with!"
"There is no going back when a woman leads the way," slowly enunciatedthe Alcalde.
"Who spoke of going back?" cried the Professor indignantly. "I havetaken the risk of bringing the maid here, thinking to place her insafety with my mother. Neither she nor I will fail. We will keep herwith our lives--aye, and so will you, brothers!"
"So we will!" said Jean-Marie and Don Jordy together, "of course!"
"Pity it is for another man!" said the lawyer grimly--"that is, if whatAnatole says be true."
"It is too true!" said the Professor bravely--"true and natural andright, that the young should seek the young and love the young andcleave to the young!"
"That, at least, is comforting for those who (like myself) are stillyoung!" said Don Jordy, with some mockery in his tone; "for you and theAlcalde there, the comfort is somewhat chilly!"
And neither of his seniors could find it in their hearts to contradictDon Jordy.
The brothers conferred long together, and at last found nothing betterthan that Claire should remain at La Masane with their mother, while sheshould be solemnly charged not to leave the house except in company withone of the three brothers. They would mount guard one by one, and eventhe master of the Castle of Collioure would hardly venture to violatethe sanctuary of the Mas of La Masane.
Curiously enough, in their arrangements, none of them thought once ofJean-aux-Choux. Yet, had they but looked out of the door, they wouldhave seen Jean wrapped in his rough shepherd's cloak, leaning his chinon his five-foot staff, his great wolf-hound at attention, his flockclumped about his feet, but his eyes fixed on the lonely Mas where, inthe twilight, these three brothers sat and discussed with knitted browsconcerning the fate of Claire Agnew.
The White Plumes of Navarre: A Romance of the Wars of Religion Page 27