Les Quarante-cinq. English
Page 80
CHAPTER LXXIX.
THE TWO COMPANIONS.
Chicot, at this announcement, sat down and turned his back to the door;but the first words pronounced by the duke's messenger made him start.He opened his eyes. The messenger could see nothing but the eye ofChicot peering from behind the chair, while Chicot could see himaltogether.
"You come from Lorraine?" asked the king of the new comer, who had afine and warlike appearance.
"Not so, sire; I come from Soissons, where M. le Duc, who has been amonth in that city, gave me this letter to deliver to your majesty."
The messenger then opened his buff coat, which was fastened by silverclasps, and drew from a leather pouch lined with silk not one letter,but two; for they had stuck together by the wax, and as the captainadvanced to give the king one letter, the other fell on the carpet.Chicot's eyes followed the messenger, and saw the color spread over hischeeks as he stooped to pick up the letter he had let fall. But Henrisaw nothing, he opened his own letter and read, while the messengerwatched him closely.
"Ah! M. Borromee," thought Chicot, "so you are a captain, are you?"
"Good," said the king, after reading the duke's letter with evidentsatisfaction. "Go, captain, and tell M. de Guise that I am grateful forhis offer."
"Your majesty will not honor me with a written answer?"
"No, I shall see the duke in a month or six weeks, and can thank himmyself."
The captain bowed and went out.
"You see, Chicot," then said the king, "that M. de Guise is free fromall machinations. This brave duke has learned the Navarre business, andhe fears that the Huguenots will raise up their heads, for he has alsoascertained that the Germans are about to send re-enforcements to Henri.Now, guess what he is about to do."
As Chicot did not reply, Henri went on.
"Well! he offers me the army that he has just raised in Lorraine towatch Flanders, and says that in six weeks it will be at my command,with its general. What do you say to that, Chicot?"
No answer.
"Really, my dear Chicot," continued the king, "you are as absurdlyobstinate as a Spanish mule; and if I happen to convince you of someerror, you sulk; yes, sulk."
Not a sound came to contradict Henri in this frank opinion of hisfriend. Now silence displeased Henri more than contradiction.
"I believe," said he, "that the fellow has had the impertinence to go tosleep. Chicot!" continued he, advancing to the armchair; "reply whenyour king speaks."
But Chicot did not reply, for he was not there; and Henri found thearmchair empty.
He looked all round the room, but Chicot was not to be seen. The kinggave a superstitious shudder; it sometimes came into his mind thatChicot was a supernatural being--a diabolic incarnation, of a good kind,it was true, but still diabolical.
He called Nambu the usher, and questioned him, and he assured hismajesty that he had seen Chicot go out five minutes before the duke'smessenger left.
"Decidedly," thought Henri, "Chicot was vexed at being in the wrong. Howill-natured men are, even the best of them."
Nambu was right; Chicot had traversed the antechambers silently, butstill he was not able to keep his spurs from sounding, which madeseveral people turn, and bow when they saw who it was.
The captain came out five minutes after Chicot, went down the stepsacross the court proudly and with a satisfied air; proud of his person,and pleased that the king had received him so well, and without anysuspicions of M. de Guise. As he crossed the drawbridge, he heard behindhim steps which seemed to be the echo of his own. He turned, thinkingthat the king had sent some message to him, and great was hisstupefaction to see behind him the demure face of Robert Briquet. It maybe remembered that the first feeling of these two men about one anotherhad not been exactly sympathetical.
Borromee opened his mouth, and paused; and in an instant was joined byChicot.
"Corboeuf!" said Borromee.
"Ventre de biche!" cried Chicot.
"The bourgeois!"
"The reverend father!"
"With that helmet!"
"With that buff coat!"
"I am surprised to see you."
"I am delighted to meet you again."
And they looked fiercely at each other, but Borromee, quickly assumingan air of amiable urbanity, said, "Vive Dieu, you are cunning, M. RobertBriquet."
"I, reverend father; and why do you say so?"
"When you were at the convent of the Jacobins, you made me believe youwere only a simple bourgeois."
"Ah!" replied Chicot, "and what must we say of you, M. Borromee?"
"Of me?"
"Yes, of you."
"And why?"
"For making me believe you were only a monk. You must be more cunningthan the pope himself; but you took me in the snare."
"The snare?"
"Yes, doubtless; a brave captain like you does not change his cuirassfor a frock without grave reasons."
"With a soldier like you, I will have no secrets. It is true that I havecertain personal interests in the convent of the Jacobins; but you?"
"And I, also."
"Let us chat about it."
"I am quite ready."
"Do you like wine?"
"Yes, when it is good."
"Well! I know a little inn, which I think has no rival in Paris."
"And I know one also; what is yours called?"
"The 'Corne d'Abondance.'"
"Ah!"
"Well, what is it?"
"Nothing."
"Do you know anything against this house?"
"Not at all."
"You know it?"
"No; and that astonishes me."
"Shall we go there, compere?"
"Oh! yes, at once."
"Come, then."
"Where is it?"
"Near the Porte Bourdelle. The host appreciates well the differencebetween palates like yours and mine, and those of every thirstypasser-by."
"Can we talk there?"
"Perfectly at our ease."
"Oh! I see you are well known there."
"Ma foi, no; this time you are wrong. M. Bonhomet sells me wine when Iwant it, and I pay when I can; that is all."
"Bonhomet! that is a name that promises well."
"And keeps its promise. Come, compere."
"Oh! oh!" said Chicot to himself; "now I must choose among my bestgrimaces; for if Bonhomet recognizes me at once, it is all over."