The Helmet of Navarre

by Bertha Runkle

  XII

  _The Comte de Mar._

  "Which way went he?"

  "The man who just came out?"

  "This way!"

  "No, yonder!"

  "Nay, I saw him not."

  "A man with bound hands, you say?"

  "Here!"

  "Down that way!"

  "A man in black, was he? Here he is!"

  "Fool, no; he went that way!"

  M. Etienne, Vigo, I, and the guardsmen rushed hither and thither intothe ever-thickening crowd, shouting after Lucas and exchanging rapidquestions with every one we passed. But from the very first the searchwas hopeless. It was dark by this time and a mass of people blocked thestreet, surging this way and that, some eagerly joining in the chase,others, from ready sympathy with any rogue, doing their best to hinderand confuse us. There was no way to tell how he had gone. A needle in ahaystack is easy found compared with him who loses himself in a Pariscrowd by night.

  M. Etienne plunged into the first opening he saw, elbowing his waymanfully. I followed in his wake, his tall bright head making as good anoriflamme as the king's plume at Ivry, but when at length we came outfar down the street we had seen no trace of Lucas.

  "He is gone," said M. le Comte.

  "Yes, monsieur. If it were day they might find him, but not now."

  "No. Even Vigo will not find him. He is worsted for once. He has letslip the shrewdest knave in France. Well, he is gone," he repeated aftera minute. "It cannot be mended by me. He is off, and so am I."

  "Whither, monsieur?"

  "That is my concern."

  "But monsieur will see M. le Duc?"

  He shook his head.

  "But, monsieur--"

  He broke in on me fiercely.

  "Think you that I--I, smirched and sullied, reeking with plots ofmurder--am likely to betake myself to the noblest gentleman in France?"

  "He will welcome M. le Comte."

  "Nay; he believed me guilty."

  "But, monsieur--"

  "You may not say 'but' to me."

  "Pardon, monsieur. Am I to tell Vigo monsieur is gone?"

  "Yes, tell him." His lip quivered; he struggled hard for steadiness."You will go to M. le Duc, Felix, and rise in his favour, for it was yousaved his life. Then tell him this from me--that some day, when I havemade me worthy to enter his presence, then will I go to him and beg hisforgiveness on my knees. And now farewell."

  He slipped away into the darkness.

  I stood hesitating for a moment. Then I followed my lord.

  He slackened his pace as he heard footsteps overtake him, and where abeam of light shone out from an open door he wheeled about, thinking mea footpad.

  "You, Felix?"

  "Yes, monsieur; I go with M. le Comte."

  "I have not permitted you."

  "Then must I go in despite. Monsieur is wounded; I cannot leave him togo unsquired."

  "There are lackeys to hire. I bade you seek M. le Duc."

  "Is not monsieur a thought unreasonable? I cannot be in two places atonce. Monsieur can send a letter. The duke has Vigo and a household. Igo with M. le Comte."

  "Oh," he cried, "you are a faithful servant! We are ridden to death byour faithful servants, we St. Quentins. Myself, I prefer fleas!" Headded, growing angrier, "Will you leave me?"

  "No, monsieur," said I.

  He glowered at me and I think he had some notion of chasing me away withhis sword. But since his dignity could not so stoop, he growled:

  "Come, then, if you choose to come unasked and most unwelcome!"

  With this he walked on a yard ahead of me, never turning his head norsaying a word, I following meekly, wondering whither, and devoutlyhoping it might be to supper. Presently I observed that we were in abetter quarter of the town, and before long we came to a broad,well-lighted inn, whence proceeded a merry chatter and rattle of dice.M. Etienne with accustomed feet turned into the court at the side, andseizing upon a drawer who was crossing from door to door despatched himfor the landlord. Mine host came, fat and smiling, unworried by the hardtimes, greeted Yeux-gris with acclaim as "this dear M. le Comte,"wondered at his long absence and bloody shirt, and granted with allalacrity his three demands of a supper, a surgeon, and a bed. I stoodback, ill at ease, aching at the mention of supper, and wonderingwhether I were to be driven off like an obtrusive puppy. But when M. leComte, without glancing at me, said to the drawer, "Take care of myserving-man," I knew my stomach was safe.

  That was the most I thought of then, I do confess, for, except for mysausage, I had not tasted food since morning. The barber came andbandaged M. le Comte and put him straight to bed, and I was left free tofall on the ample victuals set before me, and was so comfortable andhappy that the Rue Coupejarrets seemed like an evil dream. Since thatday I have been an easy mark for beggars if they could but manage tolook starved.

  Presently came a servant to say that my bed was spread in M. le Comte'sroom, and up-stairs ran I with an utterly happy heart, for I saw by thistoken that I was forgiven. Indeed, no sooner had I got fairly insidethe door than my master raised himself on his sound elbow and calledout:

  "Ah, Felix, do you bear me malice for an ungrateful churl?"

  "I bear malice?" I cried, flushing. "Monsieur is mocking me. I knowmonsieur cannot love me, since I attempted his life. Yet my wish is tobe allowed to serve him so faithfully that he can forget it."

  "Nay," he said; "I have forgotten it. And it was freely forgiven fromthe moment I saw Lucas at my cousin's side."

  "For the second time," I said, "monsieur saved my life." And I droppedon my knees beside the bed to kiss his hand. But he snatched it awayfrom me and flung his arm around my neck and kissed my cheek.

  "Felix," he cried, "but for you my hands would be red with my father'sblood. You rescued him from death and me from worse. If I have anyshreds of honour left 'tis you have saved them to me."

  "Monsieur," I stammered, "I did naught. I am your servant till I die."

  "You deserve a better master. What am I? Lucas's puppet! Lucas's fool!"

  "Monsieur, it was not Lucas alone. It was a plot. You know what hesaid--"

  "Aye," he cried with bitter vehemence. "I shall remember for some timewhat he said. They would not kill me to make my cousin Valere duke! Hewas a man. But I--nom de dieu, I was not worth the killing."

  "It is the League's scheming, monsieur."

  "Oh, that does not need the saying. Secretaries don't plot againstdukedoms on their own account. Some high man is behind Lucas--I dareswear his Grace of Mayenne himself. It is no secret now where Monsieurstands. Yet the king's party grows so strong and the mob so cheersMonsieur, the League dare not strike openly. So they put a spy in thehouse to choose time and way. And the spy would not stab, for he saw hecould make me do his work for him. He saw I needed but a push to come toopen breach with my father. He gave the push. Oh, he could make me pullhis chestnuts from the fire well enough, burning my hands so that Icould never strike a free blow again. I was to be their slave, theirthrall forever!"

  "Never that, monsieur; never that!"

  "I am not so sure," he cried. "Had it not been for the advent of a strayboy from Picardie, I trow Lucas would have put his purpose through. Iwas blindfolded; I saw nothing. I knew my cousin Gervais to be moroseand cruel; yet I had done him no harm; I had always stood his friend. Ithought him shamefully used; I let myself be turned out of my father'shouse to champion him. I had no more notion he was plotting my ruin thana child playing with his dolls. I was their doll, mordieu! their toy,their crazy fool on a chain. But life is not over yet. To-morrow I go topledge my sword to Henry of Navarre."

  "Monsieur, if he comes to the faith--"

  "Mordieu! faith is not all. Were he a pagan of the wilderness he werebetter than these Leaguers. He fights honestly and bravely andgenerously. He could have had the city before now, save that he will notstarve us. He looks the other way, and the provision-trains come in. Butthe Leaguers, with all their regiments, dare not openly strike down
oneman,--one man who has come all alone into their country,--they put a spyinto his house to eat his bread and betray him; they stir up his own kinto slay him, that it may not be called the League's work. And they aremost Catholic and noble gentlemen! Nay, I am done with these piousplotters who would redden my hands with my father's blood and make meoutcast and despised of all men. I have spent my playtime with theLeague; I will go work with Henry of Navarre!"

  I caught his fire.

  "By St. Quentin," I cried, "we will beat these Leaguers yet!"

  He laughed, yet his eyes burned with determination.

  "By St. Quentin, shall we! You and I, Felix, you and I alone willoverturn the whole League! We will show them what we are made of. Theythink lightly of me. Why not? I never took part with my father. I lazedabout in these gay Paris houses, bent on my pleasure, too shallow a fopeven to take sides in the fight for a kingdom. What should they see inme but an empty-headed roisterer, frittering away his life in follies?But they will find I am something more. Well, enter there!"

  He dropped back among the pillows, striving to look careless, as MaitreMenard, the landlord, opened the door and stood shuffling on thethreshold.

  "Does M. le Comte sleep?" he asked me deferentially, though I think hecould not but have heard M. Etienne's tirading half-way down thepassage.

  "Not yet," I answered. "What is it?"

  "Why, a man came with a billet for M. le Comte and insisted it be sentin. I told him Monsieur was not to be disturbed; he had been wounded andwas sleeping; I said it was not sense to wake him for a letter thatwould keep till morning. But he would have it 'twas of instant import,and so--"

  "Oh, he is not asleep," I declared, eagerly ushering the maitre in, mymind leaping to the conclusion, for no reason save my ardent wish, thatVigo had discovered our whereabouts.

  "I dared not deny him further," added Maitre Menard. "He wore theliveries of M. de Mayenne."

  "Of Mayenne," I echoed, thinking of what M. Etienne had said. "Pardieu,it may be Lucas himself!" And snatching up my master's sword I dashedout of the door and was in the cabaret in three steps.

  The room contained some score of men, but I, peering about by theuncertain candle-light, could find no one who in any wise resembledLucas. A young gamester seated near the door, whom my sudden entrancehad jostled, rose, demanding in the name of his outraged dignity tocross swords with me. On any other day I had deemed it impossible to sayhim nay, but now with a real vengeance, a quarrel a outrance on myhands, he seemed of no consequence at all. I brushed him aside as Idemanded M. de Mayenne's man. They said he was gone. I ran out into thedark court and the darker street.

  A tapster, lounging in the courtyard, had seen my man pass out, and heopined with much reason that I should not catch him. Yet I ran a hundredyards up street and a hundred yards down street, shouting on the name ofLucas, calling him coward and skulker, bidding him come forth and fightme. The whole neighbourhood became aware than I wanted one Lucas tofight: lights twinkled in windows; men, women, and children poured outof doors. But Lucas, if it were he, had for the second time vanishedsoft-footed into the night.

  I returned with drooping tail to M. Etienne. He was alone, sitting up inbed awaiting me, his cheeks scarlet, his eyes blazing.

  "He is gone," I panted. "I looked everywhere, but he was gone. Oh, if Icaught Lucas--"

  "You little fool!" he exclaimed. "This was not Lucas. Had you waitedlong enough to hear your name called, I had told you. This is no errandof Lucas but a very different matter."

  He sat a moment, thinking, still with that glitter of excitement in hiseyes. The next instant he threw off the bedclothes and started to rise.

  "Get my clothes, Felix. I must go to the Hotel de Lorraine."

  But I flung myself upon him, pushing him back into bed and dragging thecover over him by main force.

  "You can go nowhere, M. Etienne; it is madness. The surgeon said youmust lie here for three days. You will get a fever in your wounds; youshall not go."

  "Get off me, 'od rot you; you're smothering me," he gasped. Cautiously Irelaxed my grip, still holding him down. He appealed: "Felix, I must go.So long as there is a spark of life left in me, I have no choice but togo."

  "Monsieur, you said you were done with the Leaguers--with M. deMayenne."

  "Aye, so I did," he cried. "But this--but this is Lorance."

  Then, at my look of mystification, he suddenly opened his hand andtossed me the letter he had held close in his palm.

  I read:

  _M. de Mar appears to consider himself of very little consequence, or of very great, since he is absent a whole month from the Hotel de Lorraine. Does he think he is not missed? Or is he so sure of his standing that he fears no supplanting? In either case he is wrong. He is missed but he will not be missed forever. He may, if he will, be forgiven; or he may, if he will, be forgotten. If he would escape oblivion, let him come to-night, at the eleventh hour, to lay his apologies at the feet of_

  LORANCE DE MONTLUC.

  "And she--"

  "Is cousin and ward to the Duke of Mayenne. Yes, and my heart's desire."

  "Monsieur--"

  "Aye, you begin to see it now," he cried vehemently. "You see why I havestuck to Paris these three years, why I could not follow my father intoexile. It was more than a handful of pistoles caused the breach withMonsieur; more than a quarrel over Gervais de Grammont. That was thespark kindled the powder, but the train was laid."

  "Then you, monsieur, were a Leaguer?"

  "Nay, I was not!" he cried. "To my credit,--or my shame, as youchoose,--I was not. I was neither one nor the other, neither fish norflesh. My father thought me a Leaguer, but I was not. I was notdisloyal, in deed at least, to the house that bore me. Monsieur reviledme for a skulker, a faineant; nom de diable, he might have rememberedhis own three years of idleness!"

  "Monsieur held out for his religion--"

  "Mademoiselle is my religion," he cried, and then laughed, not merrily.

  "Pardieu! for all my pains I have not won her. I have skulked and evadedand temporized--for nothing. I would not join the League and break myfather's heart; would not stand out against it and lose Lorance. I havebeen trying these three years to please both the goat and thecabbage--with the usual ending. I have pleased nobody. I am out ofMayenne's books: he made me overtures and I refused him. I am out of myfather's books: he thinks me a traitor and parricide. And I am out ofmademoiselle's: she despises me for a laggard. Had I gone in withMayenne I had won her. Had I gone with Monsieur I was sure of a commandin King Henry's army. But I, wanting both, get neither. Between twostools, I fall miserably to the ground. I am but a dawdler, ado-nothing, the butt and laughing-stock of all brave men.

  "But I am done with shilly-shally!" he added, catching his breath. "Foronce I shall do something. Mlle. de Montluc has given me a last chance.She has sent for me, and I go. If I fall dead on her threshold, I atleast die looking at her."

  "Monsieur, monsieur," I cried in despair, "you will not die looking ather, for you will die out here in the street, and that will profitneither you nor her, but only Lucas and his crew."

  "That is as may be. At least I make the attempt. A month back I sent hera letter. I found it to-night in Lucas's doublet. She thinks me carelessof her. I must go."

  "Monsieur, you are mad," I cried. "You have said yourself Mayenne islikely to be behind Lucas. If you go you do but walk into the enemies'very jaws. It is a trap, a lure."

  "Felix, beware what you say!" he interrupted with quick-blazing ire. "Ido not permit such words to be spoken in connection with Mlle. deMontluc."

  "But, monsieur--"

  "Silence!" he commanded in a voice as sharp as crack of pistolet. TheSt. Quentins had ever the most abundant faith in those they loved. Iremembered how Monsieur in just such a blaze of resentment had forbiddenme to speak ill of his son. And I remembered, too, that Monsieur's faithhad been justified and that my accusations were lies. Natheless, Iliked not the look of this a
ffair, and I attempted further warnings.

  "Monsieur, in my opinion--"

  "You are not here to hold opinions, Felix, but your tongue."

  I did, at that, and stood back from the bed to let him do as it likedhim. He rose and went over to the chair where his clothes lay, only todrop into it half swooning. I ran to the ewer and dashed half the waterin it into his face.

  "Peste, you need not drown me!" he cried testily. "I am well; it was buta moment's dizziness." He got up again at once, but was forced to seizemy shoulder to keep from falling.

  "It was that damnable potion he made me drink," he muttered. "I am allwell else; I am not weak. Curse the room; it reels about like a ship atsea."

  I put my arm about him and led him back to bed; nor did he argue aboutit but lay back with his eyes shut, so white against the white bed-linenI thought him fainted for sure. But before I could drench him again heraised his lids.

  "Felix, will you go get a shutter? For I see clearly that I shall reachMlle. de Montluc this night in no other way."

  "Monsieur," I said, "I can go. I can tell your mistress you cannot walkacross this room to-night. I can do my best for you, M. Etienne."

  "My faith! I think I must e'en let you try. But what to bid you say toher--pardieu! I scarce know what I could say to her myself."

  "I can tell her how sorely you are hurt--how you would come, butcannot."

  "And make her believe it," he cried eagerly. "Do not let her think it aflimsy excuse. And yet I do think she will believe you," he added, withhalf a laugh. "There is something very trust-compelling about you,Felix. And assure her of my lifelong, never-failing service."

  "But I thought monsieur was going to take service with Henry ofNavarre."

  "I was!" he cried. "I am! Oh, Felix, was ever a poor wight so harriedand torn betwixt two as I? Whom Jupiter would destroy he first makesmad. I shall be gibbering in a cage before I have done with it."

  "Monsieur will be gibbering in his bed unless he sleeps soon. I go now,monsieur."

  "And good luck to you! Felix, I offer you no reward for this midnightjourney into the house of our enemies. For recompense you will see her."