X
_Lucas and "Le Gaucher."_
I cursed myself for a fool that I had carried the tale to Monsieur. Itshould have been my business to keep a still tongue and go killYeux-gris myself. For this last it was not yet too late.
Marcel was hanging about in the corridor, and to him I gave the word forVigo. I tore away from his eager questionings and hurried to the gate.
In the morning I had not been able to get in, and now I could no moreget out. By Vigo's orders, no man might leave the house.
Vigo was after the spy, of course. Monsieur knew the traitor now; hewould inform Vigo, and the gates would be open for honest men. But thatmight take time and I could not wait five minutes. I had the audacity tocry to the guards:
"M. le Duc will let me pass out. I refer you to M. le Duc."
The men were impressed. They had a respect for me, since I had beencloseted with Monsieur. Yet they dared not disobey Vigo for their lives.In this dilemma the poor sentry, fearful of getting into troublewhatever he did, sent up an envoy to ask Monsieur. I was frightenedthen. I had uttered my speech in sheer bravado, and was very doubtful asto how he would answer my impudence. But he was utterly careless, Itrow, what I did, for presently the word came down that I might passout.
The sun was setting as I hastened along the streets. I must reach theRue Coupejarrets before dark, else there was no hope for me. A man inhis senses would have known there was no hope anyway. Who but a madmanwould think of venturing back, forsworn, to those three villains, forthe killing of one? It would be a miracle if aught resulted but failureand death. Yet I felt no jot of fear as I plunged into the mesh ofcrooked streets in the Coupejarrets quarter--only ardour to reach mygoal. When, on turning a corner, I came upon a group of idlers chokingthe narrow ruelle, I said to myself that a dozen Parisians in the waycould no more stop me than they could stop a charge of horse. All heelsand elbows, I pushed into them. But, to my abasement, promptly was Iseized upon by a burly porter and bidden, with a cuff, to mind mymanners. Then I discovered the occasion of the crowd to be a littleprocession of choristers out of a neighbouring church--St. Jean of theSpire it was, though I knew then no name for it. The boys were singing,the watchers quiet, bareheaded. They sang as if there were nothing inthe world but piety and love. The last level rays of the sun crownedthem with radiant aureoles, painted their white robes with glory. I shutmy eyes, dazzled; it was as if I beheld a heavenly host. When I openedthem again the folk at my side were kneeling as the cross came by. Iknelt, too, but the holy sign spoke to me only of the crucifix I hadtrampled on, of Yeux-gris and his lies. I prayed to the good God to letme kill Yeux-gris, prayed, kneeling there on the cobbles, with a fervourI had never reached before. When I rose I ran on at redoubled speed,never doubting that a just God would strengthen my hand, would make mycause his.
I entered the little court. The shutter was fastened, as before, but Ihad my dagger, and could again free the bolt. I could creep up-stairsand mayhap stab Yeux-gris before they were aware of my coming. But thatwas not my purpose. I was no bravo to strike in the back, but theinstrument of a righteous vengeance. He must know why he died.
One to three, I had no chance. But if I knocked openly it was likelythat Yeux-gris, being my patron, would be the one to come down to me.Then there was the opportunity, man to man. If it were Grammont or thelackey, I would boldly declare that I would give my news to none butYeux-gris. In pursuance of this plan I was pounding vigorously on thedoor when a voice behind me cried out blithely:
"So you are back at last, Felix Broux"
At the first word I wheeled around. In the court entrance stoodYeux-gris, smiling and debonair. He had laid aside his sword, and heldon his left arm a basket containing a loaf of bread, a roast capon, andsome bottles, for all the world like an honest prentice doing hismaster's errand.
"Yes, I am back!" I shouted. "Back to kill you, parricide!"
He had a knife in his belt; the fight was even. I was upon him, mydagger raised to strike. He made no motion to draw, and I remembered ina flash he could not: his right arm was powerless. He sprang back,flinging up his burdened left as a shield, and my blade buried itself inthe side of the basket.
As I stabbed I heard feet thundering down the stairs within. I jerked myknife from the wicker and turned to face this new enemy. "Grammont," Ithought, and that my end had come.
The door flew open and, shoulder to shoulder like brothers, out rushedGrammont and--Lucas!
My fear was drowned in amaze. I forgot to run and stood staring insheer, blank bewilderment. Crying "Damned traitor!" Gervais, with drawnsword, charged at me.
I had only the little dagger. I owe my life to Yeux-gris's quick witsand no less quick fingers. Dropping the basket, he snatched a bottlefrom it and hurled it at Gervais.
"Ware, Grammont!" shouted Lucas, springing forward. But the missile flewtoo quickly. It struck Grammont square on the forehead, and he went downlike a slaughtered ox.
We looked, not at him, but at Lucas--Lucas, the duke's deferentialservant, the coward and skulker, Grammont's hatred, standing here byGrammont's side, glaring at us over his naked sword.
I saw in one glance that Yeux-gris was no less astounded than I, andfrom that instant, though the inwardness of the matter was still ariddle to me, my heart acquitted him of all dishonesty, of allcomplicity. His was not the face of a parricide.
"Lucas!" he cried, in a dearth of words. "_Lucas!_"
I was staring at Lucas in thick bewilderment. The man was transformedfrom the one I knew. At M. le Duc's he had been pale, nervous, andshaken--senselessly and contemptibly scared, as I thought, since he waswarned of the danger and need not face it. But now he was another man. Ican think only of those lanterns I have seen, set with coloured glass.They look dull enough all day, but when the taper within is lightedshine like jewels. So Lucas now. His face, so keen and handsome offeature, was brilliant, his eyes sparkling, his figure instinct withdefiance. A smile crossed his face.
"Aye," he answered evenly, "it is Lucas."
M. le Comte appeared to be in a state of stupor. He could not for aspace find his tongue to demand:
"How, in the name of Heaven, come you here?"
"To fight Grammont," Lucas answered at once.
"A lie!" I shouted. "You're Grammont's friend. You came here to warn himoff. It's your plot!"
"Felix! The plot?" Yeux-gris cried.
"The plot's to murder Monsieur. Martin let it out. I thought it was youand Grammont. But it's Lucas and Grammont!"
Lucas hesitated. Even now he debated whether he could not lie out of it.Then he burst into laughter.
"It seems the cat's out of the bag. Aye, M. le Comte de Mar, I came towarn Grammont off. The duke will be here straightway. How will you liketo swing for parricide?"
Yeux-gris stared at him, neither in fear nor in fury, but in utterstupefaction.
"But Gervais? He plotted with you? But he hates you!"
We gaped at Lucas like yokels at a conjurer. He made us no answer butlooked from one to the other of us with the alertness of an angry viper.We were two, but without swords. I knew he was thinking how easiest toend us both.
M. le Comte cried: "You! You come from Navarre's camp, from M. deRosny!"
"Aye. I have outwitted more than one man."
"Mordieu! I was right to hate you!"
Lucas laughed. Yeux-gris blazed out:
"Traitor and thief! You stole the money. I said that from the first. Youdrove us from the house. How you and Grammont--"
"Came together? Very simple," Lucas answered with easy insolence."Grammont did not love Monsieur, your honoured father. It was child'splay to make an assignation with him and to lament the part forced on meby Monsieur. Grammont was ready enough to scent a scheme of M. le Duc'sto ruin him. He had said as much to Monsieur, as you may deign toremember."
"Aye," said M. le Comte, still like a puzzled child, "he was angry withmy father. But afterward he changed his mind. He knew it was you, andonly you."
Lucas broke again into derisive laughter.
"M. de Grammont is as dull a dolt as ever I met, yet clever enough togull you. He thought you must suspect. I dreaded it--needlessly. Youwise St. Quentins! You cannot see what goes on under your very nose."
M. le Comte sprang forward, scarlet. Lucas flourished the sword.
"The boy there caught at a glance what you had not found out in afortnight. He gets to the duke and blocks my game--for to-day. But ifthey sent him ahead to hold us till their men came up, they were fools,too. I'll have the duke yet, and I'll have you now."
He rushed at the unarmed Yeux-gris. The latter darted at Grammont'sfallen sword, seized it, was on guard, all in the second before Lucasreached him. He might have been in a fortnight's trance, but he wasawake at last.
I trembled for him, then took heart again, as he parried thrust afterthrust and pressed Lucas hard. I had never seen a man fight with hisleft arm before; I had not realized it could be done, being myselfhelpless with that hand. But as I watched this combat I speedilyperceived how dangerous is a left-handed adversary. In later years I wasto understand better, when M. le Comte had become known the length ofthe land by the title "Le Gaucher." But at this time he was in thehabit, like the rest of the world, of fencing with his right hand; hisdexterity with the other he rated only as a pretty accomplishment tosurprise the crowd. He used his left hand scarcely as well as Lucas theright; yet, the thrust sinister being in itself a strength, they werenot badly matched. I stood watching with all my eyes, when of a sudden Ifelt a grasp on my ankle and the next instant was thrown heavily to thepavement.
Grammont had come to life and taken prompt part in the fray.
I fell close to him, and instantly he let go my leg and wound his armsaround me. I tried to rise and could not, and we rolled about togetherin the wine and blood and broken glass. All the while I heard thesword-blades clashing. Yeux-gris, God be thanked! seemed to be holdinghis own.
Fighting Gervais was like fighting two men. Slowly but steadily hepressed me down and held me. I struggled for dear life--and could notpush him back an inch.
I still held my knife but my arms were pinned down. Gervais raisedhimself a little to get a better clutch, and his fingers closed on mythroat. One grip, and life seemed flowing from me. My arm was free nowif I could but lift it. If I could not, nevermore should I lift it onthis sunny earth. I did lift it, and drove the dagger deep into him.
I could not take aim; I could not tell where the knife struck. A gaspshowed he was hit; then he clinched my throat once more. Sight went fromme, and hearing. "It is no use," I thought, and then thought went, too.
But once again the saints were kind to me. The blackness passed, and Iwondered what had happened that I was spared. Then I saw Grammontclutching with both hands at the dagger-hilt. After all, the blow hadgone home. I had struck him in the left side under the arm. Three goodinches of steel were in him.
He had turned over on his side, half off me. I scrambled out from underhim. To my surprise, Yeux-gris and Lucas were still engaged. I hadthought it hours since Grammont pulled me down.
As I rose, Yeux-gris turned his head toward me. Only for a second, butin that second Lucas pinked his shoulder. I dashed between them; theylowered their points.
"First blood for me!" cried Lucas. "That serves for to-day, M. le Comte.I regret that I cannot wait to kill you, but that will come. It isnecessary that I go before M. le Duc arrives. Clear the way."
M. le Comte stood his ground, barring the alley. They glared at eachother motionless.
Grammont had raised himself to his knees and was trying painfully to geton his feet.
"A hand, Lucas," he gasped.
Lucas gave him a startled glance but neither went nor spoke to him.
"I am not much hurt," said Grammont, huskily. Holding by the wall, heclambered up on his feet. He swayed, reeled forward, and clutchedLucas's arm.
"Lucas, Lucas, help me! Draw out the knife. I cannot. I shall be myselfwhen the knife is out. Lucas, for God's sake!"
"You will die when the knife is out," said Lucas, wrenching himselffree. He turned again to M. le Comte, and his eyes gleamed as he saw theblood trickling down his sleeve and the sword tremble in his hand.
"Come on, then," he cried to Yeux-gris.
But I sprang forward and seized the sword from M. le Comte's hand.
"On guard!" I shouted, and we went to work.
I could handle a sword as well as the next one. M. le Duc had taught mein his idle days at St. Quentin. It served me well now, and him, too.
The light was fading in the narrow court. Our blades shone white in thetwilight as the weapons clashed in and out. I saw, without looking,Grammont leaning against the wall, his gory face ashen, and Yeux-griswatching me with all his soul, now and then shouting a word of advice.
I had had good training, and I fought for all there was in me. Yet I wasa boy not come to my full strength, and Lucas was more than my match. Hedrove me back farther and farther toward the house-wall. Of a sudden Islipped in a smear of blood ('tis no lying excuse, I did slip) and lostmy guard. He ran his blade into my shoulder, as he had done withYeux-gris.
He would likely have finished me had not a cry from Grammont shaken him.
"The duke!"
In truth, a deepening noise of hoofs and shouts came down the alley fromthe street.
Lucas looked at me, who had regained my guard and stood, little hurt,between him and M. le Comte. He could not push past me into the houseand so through to the other street. He made for the alley, crying out:
"Au revoir, messieurs! We shall meet again."
Grammont seized him.
"Help me, Lucas, for the love of Christ! Don't leave me, Lucas!"
Lucas beat him off with the sword.
"Every man for himself!" he cried, and sprang down the alley.
"It is not the duke," I said to Yeux-gris. "It is most likely thewatch." I paled at the thought, for the watch was the League's, andLucas by all signs the League's tool. It might go hard with us ifcaptured. "Go through the house, M. le Comte," I cried. "Quick, if youlove your life! I'll keep them at the alley's mouth as long as I can."
Not waiting for his answer, I rushed down the passage. At the end of itI ran against Lucas, who, in his turn, had bowled into Vigo.
The Helmet of Navarre Page 11