CHAPTER V.
About nine o'clock in the evening the invalid wakened to a consciousnessof existence; but how wild and strange a consciousness! His speech wasincoherent, his eye vague and wandering. He seemed to make vehementefforts to recover the power of reason and thought; but it was all invain. If in answer to a question he uttered a few connected words, thenext instant all was confused and senseless in the attempt at asentence; and, when Dr. Cavillac visited him at half-past ten, his pulsewas beating as if it would have burst the artery, and his eyes werebloodshot and wild.
"Perfect silence, absence of light, with diet and blood-letting," saidthe doctor,--"those are the only means to save him. Thank Heaven, he isfinely delirious. He can neither understand nor try to answer anyquestion. If he could but reason and talk, he were a dead youth. Now,mark me, syndic: let there be a finger on every lip; let everybody inyour house be dumb for the next three days. If he speak, do not answerhim. If he do not speak, keep silence. Give him the drinks I told you;and to-morrow I will bleed him again. In three days we shall know more,and probably at that time he will recover his senses, it may be forlife, it may be for death; but all depends upon good nursing."
The prognosis of the physician was verified. At the end of three daysEdward Langdale did recover his senses; but some events had taken placein the mean time which must be noticed before we follow his historyfurther. We must, in the first place, begin with that most interestingpersonage, Master Pierrot, who is going to be introduced in a newcharacter,--that of a philosopher. Although the press very generallyassumes the form of majesty, and indulges in the plural number, probablyin the proud consciousness of its sovereign power over the minds, andperhaps the bodies, of a certain number of human beings, it was with nosuch vain confidence that the last sentence began, "We must," &c. Thatformula was merely adopted to include you and me, dear reader, who,having to jog over a good space of country together, had better agreeupon our line of travel before we set out upon each day's journey. Itwas, therefore, merely a sort of suggestion on my part that we shouldfirst look after Pierrot, and to be understood as implying nothing more.
Now, during the last few hours Pierrot had met with a number of severemortifications,--those somewhat sharp lessons of life which sometimes doa man a great deal of good. In the first place, poor Master Ned had, invery plain language, told him that he was a coward when drunk, if he wasa brave man when sober; and, as there was a certain consciousness inPierrot's breast that there was a good deal of truth in the lad'sassertion, of course the accusation was the more unpalatable. Secondly,the conduct of Clement Tournon showed him that one bad habit coulddeprive and had deprived him of the last scrap of confidence amongstpeople of any character; and, lastly, the refusal to let him attend uponhis young master showed that even his fidelity and affection weredoubted. Now, Pierrot was really an affectionate fellow, and thismortified him more than any thing else. It is probable that many a timein life, since by an evil practice he had lost wealth and station andconsideration, Pierrot had resolved to cast the vice from him. He mighthave so resolved a hundred or a hundred and fifty times; but he hadnever kept his resolution. Never before, however, had any one doubtedhis qualities of heart; and on the present occasion, with a good deal oftime to spare,--in fact, it was all to spare, as he sat in the kitchenor passages of the syndic's house,--he bestowed the golden superfluityupon thought. His mind was not naturally a weak one, though there is nodenying that it had been weakened by intemperance; and it was now makinga great effort.
"So," he said to himself, "I am not even to be trusted in the boy'ssick-room. Well, that is somewhat hard. No, it is not. The old man isquite right. He knows I am a drunken rascal, and thinks I am not to betrusted in any thing. Hang me if I have not a mind to make him thinkbetter of me. But it is of no use: I should only begin again. Why need Ibegin again at all? Master Ned knows me better than any of them; and heonly requires me not to drink when there is any thing important in thewind. He knows I cannot help it at other times. But why cannot I help itat other times, if I can help it then? I can help it if I like; and, byHeaven, I will not drink any more, except when he gives me leave; andI'll ask him never to give me leave. So we will settle the matter thatway. I do love that lad, though he gave me a shot in the leg to keep mefrom running away and disgracing myself. I did not drink one drop lastnight at the inn, because he told me not. I am mighty sick at mystomach, however. I wish I had a drop of brandy, just to settle it. Ihave a mind to go out and get just one gill to settle it,--only onegill. No, I won't; for then I should take another, and so forth. Itshall not be said that my young master was lying sick and I went andgot drunk. Let my stomach take care of itself; and, if it chooses to besick, it must be so. I wonder if he will die, poor boy. He has a goodheart, though he is as hasty as a tinker's cur, and as stern as ageneral. Marton," he continued, to the good woman who entered seekingsomething, "how is Master Ned?"
"Much the same, Pierrot," answered Marton. "The doctor says there willbe no change yet a while."
"Marton, I am resolved not to drink any more," said Pierrot, in a solemntone.
"Keep to it," she replied, with a laugh, but evidently with very littleconfidence. "Why, Pierrot la Grange, for the last ten years you havebeen forever at the flask. You were a very good young man before that,and well to do; ay, and a handsome man too. I have seldom seen a morepersonable man than you were then, before you took to that filthy customof making a beast of yourself; but now your face is all over blotches,and your nose is so red you might fire a cannon with it."
"Well, well, you shall see, Marton," rejoined Pierrot. "I have taken aresolution, and fallen upon a plan by which I can keep it, too; and youmay tell the syndic that I will drink no more. Why, just now, I thoughtto go out and get myself some brandy, with a spur rial--as he callsit--which Master Ned gave me, because I am sick at the stomach; but Iresisted, and would not stir a step on account of my resolution."
"Ah! are you sick at the stomach?" said Marton, quietly. "Suppose I getyou a little cloves and strong waters."
Pierrot evidently hesitated; but then he suddenly exclaimed, "Not adrop, Marton, thank you; not a drop. I was once sober for three wholedays, and, I dare say, should have continued so, but that fellow Jargeaugot hold of me and persuaded me to drink. It was his cue to make medrunk then. So those who know me will never ask me to take a drop, ifthey love me."
"That they certainly will not," said Marton, going away with what shehad come to fetch.
Her conversation with Pierrot had one good effect, however. She told hermaster that she really believed La Grange intended not to drink anymore, not only inasmuch he told her so, but because he refused a glassof cloves and strong waters which she had offered him on account of hisbeing sick at the stomach.
"Most likely sick because he has not had his morning's draught," saidClement Tournon. "However, encourage all good resolutions, and do notoffer him any more. Marton, I will speak with him myself in the courseof the day, and can judge better than you can."
The worthy syndic could not keep his promise, however. The day passedover, and he did not see Pierrot; for the town of Rochelle was inconsiderable agitation at that time, the events passing round it beingsufficiently menacing to impress all minds with anxiety, but notsufficiently urgent to produce unanimity by the presence of immediatedanger. Pierrot kept his resolution, however; and the day passed bywithout his having tasted any fluid stronger than water. The nextmorning, though he did not feel himself altogether comfortable, hisnausea had departed, and he was more bold in his purpose. About ten hewas sent for to speak with the syndic, who was much too wise a man toask him questions which had any relation to brandy. Clement Tournon,however, examined him closely in regard to his knowledge of EdwardLangdale, what letters he brought, when he had sailed from England,whether the intimations Jargeau had received had been accompanied by noinformation of the young man's objects in coming to Rochelle.
"He had a long and stormy passage: that I know," answered Pierrot; "andas to Jar
geau, if he had any information he kept it to himself, as healways does. But you can ask him himself, syndic. Whether the lad hasany letters, you should know better than I do; for, if he have, theymust be in his bags,--and you have had bags and keys too in your handsthese two days, when I have never had either at all."
"I pry not where I have no right," replied Clement Tournon, coldly. "Nohand opens his bags while he is alive and in my house. As for Jargeau,he sees not matters as I do, or I would ask him for information. TheLord Montagu I do not know, though you say the youth is his page; and Icannot divine why that lord has sent him to me. Indeed, I heard hislordship was in France."
"But he is the great Duke of Buckingham's right hand," said Pierrot;"and perhaps Master Ned has been sent to you by the duke."
"I have some suspicion it may be so," answered the syndic. "I once hadsome diamond pendants made for him in great haste; and perhaps he wishesto employ me again."
"In making cannon-balls this time, perhaps, monsieur," said Pierrot,dryly; but, to his surprise, the syndic answered, quite calmly, "Perhapsso; for I am told that this morning at daybreak a fleet of ships-of-warwas descried standing in toward Rochelle, and the people thought it wasunder English colors."
He looked keenly at Pierrot as he spoke; but the countenance of thelatter at once showed that he had not been trying to deceive any one asto the amount of his knowledge; and he clapped his hands, exclaiming,"Hurrah! We shall have some stirring times again, then, and shall nothave to lie here cooped up like rats in a trap, but have fighting everyday, and----"
"Plenty of brandy," said the syndic, finishing the sentence for him.
"Not a drop, upon my salvation!" said Pierrot.
"Well, your salvation may a good deal depend upon your keeping thatresolution," replied the syndic, "for a man does many things when he isdrunk for which drunkenness can be no excuse, though it may be anaggravation. But hark! What is that? It was a cannon-shot, was it not?The fleet must be nearing the town. I must to the council. Well, you maygo in and see the young gentleman. But mind, be as still as death. Saynothing to him; and, if he recognises you, and asks you any questions,answer shortly and quietly, and leave him. You said he was of gentlebirth, I think. You are sure he is of gentle birth?"
Though Pierrot might, and in fact did, think it strange that a merchantof Rochelle should lay such stress upon gentle--otherwise noble--birth,he assured the syndic, from what he had seen of the English, that allthe household pages of British noblemen were selected from goodfamilies; and, while they were still speaking together, one of thegoldsmith's apprentices came to call the syndic to the city council,telling him that a boat had just landed from the English fleet.
Clement Tournon called for his gown and chain; and, after givingrepeated directions to Pierrot as to his demeanor in the chamber ofMaster Ned, and donned his robes in the man's presence, he proceeded tothe town-hall, followed by two of his men.
The inclinations, if not the affections, of Pierrot were divided. Hewould fain have gone to the hall to know the news of the day,--news, asit proved, much more important than he dreamed of. But then again camethe thought of his poor young master; and, being a conscientious manwhen he was sober, and sometimes a conscientious man even when he wasdrunk, he fancied it a duty to visit Master Ned. He soon found, however,that he could do nothing in the world for him. The lad's mind stillwandered terribly; and, though he gave some indications of recollectingPierrot, he asked him no questions, and called him "My Lord Duke."Pierrot might then have turned his steps to the hall, but in one ofNed's half-muttered speeches the name of Jargeau was uttered; and,remembering that personage would inevitably be at the place of meeting,the good man thought it better to wait for tidings till the syndicreturned.
The news arrived soon enough for Pierrot's mortification, andimmediately spread through the whole house. It was to the effect thatthe Lord Denbigh, in command of a powerful British fleet, had come tooffer assistance to the town of Rochelle; that there had been a warm andeven angry debate in the council, but in the end the anti-English partyhad prevailed, and all that Tournon and Guiton could obtain was, that acivil reply should be made to the English admiral, thanking him and KingCharles for their proffered aid, but declining it on the score that _noprevious intimation had been given to the citizens of the approach of afleet to their port_.
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