XXV
_A double masquerade._
"Felix, we are speaking in our own tongue. It is such lapses as thesebring men to the gallows. Italian from this word, my girl."
"Monsieur, I have no notion how to bear myself, what to say," I answereduneasily.
"Say as little as you can. For, I confess, your voice and your handsgive me pause; otherwise I would take you anywhere for a lass. Your partmust be the shy maiden. My faith, you look the role; your cheeks arepoppies! You will follow docile at my heels while I tell lies for two. Ihave the hope that the ladies will heed me and my jewels more than you."
"Monsieur, could we not go safelier at night?"
"I have thought of that. But at night the household gathers in thesalon; we should run the gantlet of a hundred looks and tongues. Whilenow, if we have luck, we may win to mademoiselle's own chamber--" Hebroke off abruptly, and walked along in a day-dream.
"Well," he resumed presently, coming back to the needs of the moment,"let us know our names and station. I am Giovanni Rossini, son of thefamous goldsmith of Florence; you, Giulietta, my sister. We came toParis in the legate's train, trade being dull at home, the gentry havingfled to the hills for the hot month. Of course you've never set foot outof France, Fe--Giulietta?"
"Never out of St. Quentin till I came hither. But Father Francesco hastalked to me much of his city of Florence."
"Good; you can then make shift to answer a question or two if put to it.Your Italian, I swear, is of excellent quality. You speak French likethe Picard you are, but Italian like a gentleman--that is to say, like alady."
"Monsieur," I bemoaned miserably, "I shall never come through it alive,never in the world. They will know me in the flick of an eye for a boy;I know they will. Why, the folk we are passing can see something wrong;they all are staring at me."
"Of course they stare," he answered tranquilly. "I should think somewrong if they did not. Can your modesty never understand, my Giulietta,what a pretty lass you are?"
He fell to laughing at my discomfort, and thus, he full of gayconfidence, I full of misgiving, we came before the doors of the Hotelde Lorraine.
"Courage," he whispered to me. "Courage will conquer the devil himself.Put a good face on it and take the plunge." The next moment he was inthe archway, deluging the sentry with his rapid Italian.
"Nom d'un chien! What's all this? What are you after?" the man shoutedat us, to make us understand the better. "Haven't you a word of honestFrench in your head?"
M. Etienne, tapping his box, very brokenly, very laboriously stammeredforth something about jewels for the ladies.
"Get in with you, then."
We were not slow to obey.
The courtyard was deserted, nor did we see any one in the windows of thehouse, against which the afternoon sun struck hotly. To keep out hisunwelcome rays, the house door was pushed almost shut. We paused amoment on the step, to listen to the voices of gossiping lackeys within,and then M. Etienne boldly knocked.
There was a scurrying in the hall, as if half a dozen idlers wereplunging into their doublets and running to their places. Then my goodfriend Pierre opened the door. In the row of underlings at his back Irecognized the two who had taken part in my flogging. The cold sweatbroke out upon me lest they in their turn should know me.
M. Etienne looked from one to another with the childlike smile of hisbare lips, demanding if any here spoke Italian.
"I," answered Pierre himself. "Now, what may your errand be?"
"Oh, it's soon told," M. Etienne cried volubly, as one delighted to findhimself understood. "I am a jeweller from Florence; I am selling mywares in your great houses. I have but just sold a necklace to theDuchesse de Joyeuse; I crave permission to show my trinkets to the fairladies here. But take me up to them, and they'll not make you repentit."
"Go tell madame," Pierre bade one of his men, and turning again to usgave us kindly permission to set down our burden and wait.
For incredible good luck, the heavy hangings were drawn over the sunnywindows, making a soft twilight in the room. I sidled over to a bench inthe far corner and was feeling almost safe, when Pierre--beshrewhim!--called attention to me.
"Now, that is a heavy box for a maid to help lug. Do you make the lassesdo porters' work, you Florentines?"
"But I am a stranger here," M. Etienne explained. "Did I hire a porter,how am I to tell an honest one? Belike he might run off with all mytreasures, and where is poor Giovanni then? Besides, it were cruel toleave my little sister in our lodging, not a soul to speak to, the longday through. There is none where we lodge knows Italian, as you do solike an angel, Sir Master of the Household."
Now, Pierre was no more maitre d'hotel than I was, but that did notdampen his pleasure to be called so. He sat down on the bench by M.Etienne.
"How came you two to be in Paris?" he asked.
My lord proceeded to tell him I know not what glib and convincingfarrago, with every excellence, I made no doubt, of accent and gesture.But I could not listen; I had affairs of my own by this time. Thelackeys had come up close round me, more interested in me than in mybrother, and the same Jean who had held me for my beating, who hadwanted my coat stripped off me that I might be whacked to bleed, nowsaid:
"I'll warrant you're hot and tired and thirsty, mademoiselle, for allyou look as fresh as cress. Will you drink a cup of wine if I fetch it?"
I had kept my eyes on the ground from the first moment of encounter, inmortal dread to look these men in the face; but now, gaining courage, Iraised my glance and smiled at him bashfully, and faltered that I didnot understand.
He understood the sense, if not the words, of my answer, and repeatedhis offer, slowly, loudly. I strove to look as blank as the wall, andshook my head gently and helplessly, and turned an inquiring gaze to theothers, as if beseeching them to interpret. One of the fellows clappedJean on the shoulder with a roar of laughter.
"A fall, a fall!" he shouted. "Here's the all-conquering Jean Marchandtripped up for once. He thinks nothing that wears petticoats canwithstand him, but here's a maid that hasn't a word to throw at him."
"Pshaw! she doesn't understand me," Jean returned, undaunted, andpromptly pointed a finger at my mouth and then raised his fist to hisown, with sucks and gulps. I allowed myself to comprehend then. I smiledin as coquettish a fashion as I could contrive, and glanced on theground, and slowly looked up again and nodded.
The men burst into loud applause.
"Good old Jean! Jean wins. Well played, Jean! Vive Jean!"
Jean, flushed with triumph, ran off on his errand, while I thought ofMargot, the steward's daughter, at home, and tried to recollect everyair and grace I had ever seen her flaunt before us lads. It was not badfun, this. I hid my hands under my apron and spoke not at all, butsighed and smiled and blushed under their stares like any fine lady.Once in one's life, for one hour, it is rather amusing to be a girl. Butthat is quite long enough, say I.
Jean came again directly with a great silver tankard.
"Burgundy, pardieu!" cried one of his mates, sticking his nose into thepot as it passed him, "and full! Ciel, you must think your lass has ahead."
"Oh, I shall drink with her," Jean answered.
I put out my hand for the tankard, running the risk of my big paw'sbetraying me, resolved that he should not drink with me of that draught,when of a sudden he leaned over to snatch a kiss. I dodged him, morefrightened than the shyest maid. Though in this half-light I mightperfectly look a girl, I could not believe I should kiss like one. In apanic, I fled from Jean to my master's side.
M. Etienne, wheeling about, came near to laughing out in my face, whenhe remembered his part and played it with a zeal that was like to undous. He sprang to his feet, drawing his dagger.
"Who insults my sister?" he shouted. "Who is the dog does this!"
They were on him, wrenching the knife from his hand, wrenching his lamearm at the same time so painfully that he gasped. I was scared chill; Iknew if they mishandled him they would
brush the wig off.
"Mind your manners, sirrah!" Jean cried.
Monsieur's ardour vanished; a gentle, appealing smile spread over hisface.
"I cry your pardon, sir," he said to Jean; then turning to Pierre, "Thismesser does not understand me. But tell him, I beg you, I crave his goodpardon. I was but angered for a moment that any should think to touch mylittle sister. I meant no harm."
"Nor he," Pierre retorted. "A kiss, forsooth! What do you expect with ahandsome lass like that? If you will take her about--"
"Madame says the jeweller fellow is to come up," our messengerannounced, returning.
My lord besought Pierre:
"My knife? I may have my knife? By the beard of St. Peter, I swear toyou, I meant no harm with it. I drew it in jest."
Now, this, which was the sole true statement he had made since ourarrival, was the only one Pierre did not quite believe. He took theknife from Jean, but he hesitated to hand it over to its owner.
"No," he said; "you were angry enough. I know your Italian temper. I'mthinking I'll keep this little toy of yours till you come down."
"Very well, Sir Majordomo," M. Etienne rejoined indifferently, "so be ityou give it to me when I go." He grasped the handle of the box, and wefollowed our guide up the stair, my master offering me the comfortingassurance:
"It really matters not in the least, for if we be caught the dagger'snot yet forged can save us."
We were ushered into a large, fair chamber hung with arras, the carpetunder our feet deep and soft as moss. At one side stood the bed, raisedon its dais; opposite were the windows, the dressing-table between them,covered with scent-bottles and boxes, brushes and combs, very glitteringand grand. Fluttering about the room were some half-dozen fine dames anddemoiselles, brave in silks and jewels. Among them I was quick torecognize Mme. de Mayenne, and I thought I knew vaguely one or two otherfaces as those I had seen before about her. I started presently todiscover the little Mlle. de Tavanne: that night she had worn sky-colourand now she wore rose, but there was no mistaking her saucy face.
We set our box on a table, as the duchess bade us, and I helped M.Etienne to lay out its contents, which done, I retired to thebackground, well content to leave the brunt of the business to him. Itwas as he prophesied: they paid me no heed whatever. He was smoothlylaunched on the third relating of his tale; I trow by this time healmost believed it himself. Certes, he never faltered, but rattled on asif he had two tongues, telling in confidential tone of our father andmother, our little brothers and sisters at home in Florence; our journeywith the legate, his kindness and care of us (I hoped that dignitarywould not walk in just now to pay his respects to madame la generale);of our arrival in Paris, and our wonder and delight at the city'sgrandeur, the like of which was not to be found in Italy; and, last, butnot least, he had much to say, with an innocent, wide-eyed gravity, inpraise of the ladies of Paris, so beautiful, so witty, so generous! Theywere all crowding around him, calling him pretty boy, laughing at hiscompliments, handling and exclaiming over his trinkets, trying theeffect of a buckle or a bracelet, preening and cooing likebright-breasted pigeons about the corn-thrower. It was as pretty a sightas ever I beheld, but it was not to smile at such that we had risked ourheads. Of Mlle. de Montluc there was no sign.
No one was marking me, and I wondered if I might not slip out unseen andmake my way to mademoiselle's chamber. I knew she lodged on this story,near the back of the house, in a room overlooking the little street andhaving a turret-window. But I was somewhat doubtful of my skill to findit through the winding corridors of a great palace. I was more thanlikely to meet some one who would question my purpose, and what answercould I make? I scarce dared say I was seeking mademoiselle. I am notready at explanations, like M. le Comte.
Yet here were the golden moments flying and our cause no furtheradvanced. Should I leave it all to M. Etienne, trusting that when he hadmade his sales here he would be permitted to seek out the other ladiesof the house? Or should I strive to aid him? Could I win in safety tomademoiselle's chamber, what a feat!
It so irked me to be doing nothing that I was on the very point ofgingerly disappearing when one of the ladies, she with the yellow curls,the prettiest of them all, turned suddenly from the group, callingclearly:
"Lorance!"
Our hearts stood still--mine did, and I can vouch for his--as the heavywindow-curtain swayed aside and she came forth.
She came listlessly. Her hair sweeping against her cheek was ebony onsnow, so white she was; while under her blue eyes were dark rings, likethe smears of an inky finger. M. Etienne let fall the bracelet he washolding, staring at her oblivious of aught else, his brows knotted indistress, his face afire with love and sympathy. He made a step forward;I thought him about to catch her in his arms, when he recollectedhimself and dropped on his knees to grope for the fallen trinket.
"You wanted me, madame?" she asked Mme. de Mayenne.
"No," said the duchess, with a tartness of voice she seemed to reservefor Mlle. de Montluc; "'twas Mme. de Montpensier."
"It was I," the fair-haired beauty answered in the same breath. "I wantyou to stop moping over there in the corner. Come look at these baublesand see if they cannot bring a sparkle to your eye. Fie, Lorance! Thehaving too many lovers is nothing to cry about. It is an affliction manyand many a lady would give her ears to undergo."
"Take heart o' grace, Lorance!" cried Mlle. de Tavanne. "If you go onlooking as you look to-day, you'll not long be troubled by lovers."
She made no answer to either, but stood there passively till it might betheir pleasure to have done with her, with a patient weariness that itwrung the heart to see.
"Here's a chain would become you vastly, Lorance," Mme. de Montpensierwent on, friendlily enough, in her brisk and careless voice. "Let me tryit on your neck. You can easily coax Paul or some one to buy it foryou."
She fumbled over the clasp. M. Etienne, with a "Permit me, madame," tookit boldly from her hand and hooked it himself about mademoiselle's neck.He delayed longer than he need over the fastening of it, looking withburning intentness straight into her face. She lifted her eyes to hiswith a quick frown of displeasure, drawing herself back; then all atonce the colour waved across her face like the dawn flush over a graysky. She blushed to her very hair, to her very ruff. Then the redvanished as quickly as it had come; she clutched at her bosom, on theverge of a swoon.
He threw out his arms to catch her. Instantly she stepped aside, and,turning with a little unsteady laugh to the lady at whose elbow shefound herself, asked:
"Does it become me, madame?"
The little scene had passed so quickly that it seemed none had markedit. Mademoiselle had stood a little out of the group, monsieur with hisback to it, and the ladies were busy over the jewels. She whommademoiselle had addressed, a big-nosed, loud-voiced lady, older thanany of the others, answered her bluntly:
"You look a shade too green-faced to-day, mademoiselle, for anything tobecome you."
"What can you expect, Mme. de Brie?" Mlle. Blanche promptly demanded."Mlle. de Montluc is weary and worn from her vigils at your son'sbedside."
Mme. de Montpensier had the temerity to laugh; but for the rest, a sortof little groan ran through the company. Mme. de Mayenne bade sharply,"Peace, Blanche!" Mme. de Brie, red with anger, flamed out on her andMlle. de Montluc equally:
"You impudent minxes! 'Tis enough that one of you should bring my sonto his death, without the other making a mock of it."
"He's not dying," began the irrepressible Blanche de Tavanne, her eyestwinkling with mischief; but whatever naughty answer was on her tongue,our mademoiselle's deeper voice overbore her:
"I am guiltless of the charge, madame. It was through no wish of minethat your son, with half the guard at his back, set on one wounded man."
"I'll warrant it was not," muttered Mlle. Blanche.
"Mar has turned traitor, and deserves nothing so well as to be spittedin the dark," Mme. de Brie cried out.
Mademoise
lle waited an instant, with flashing eyes meeting madame's. Shehad spoken hotly before, but now, in the face of the other's passion,she held herself steady.
"Your charge is as false, madame, as your wish is cruel. Do you go tovespers and come home to say such things? M. de Mar is no traitor; hewas never pledged to us, and may go over to Navarre when he will."
It was quietly spoken, but the blue lightning of her eyes was too muchfor Mme. de Brie. She opened her mouth to retort, faltered, dropped hereyes, and finally turned away, yet seething, to feign interest in thetrinkets. It was a rout.
"Then you are the traitor, Lorance," chimed the silvery tones of Mme. deMontpensier. "It is not denied that M. de Mar has gone over to theenemy; therefore are you the traitor to have intercourse with him."
She spoke without heat, without any appearance of ill feeling. Hers wasmerely the desire, for the fun of it, to keep the flurry going. Butmademoiselle answered seriously, with the fleetingest glance at M. leComte, where he, forgetting he knew no French, feasted his eyesrecklessly on her, pitying, applauding, adoring her. I went softlyaround the group to pull his sleeve; we were lost if any turned to seehim.
"Madame," mademoiselle addressed her cousin of Montpensier, speakingparticularly clearly and distinctly, "I mean ever to be loyal to myhouse. I came here a penniless orphan to the care of my kinsman Mayenne;and he has always been to me generous and loving--"
"If not madame," murmured Mile. Blanche to herself.
"--as I in my turn have been loving and obedient. It was only two nightsago he told me M. de Mar must be as dead to me. Since then I have heldno intercourse with him. Last night he came under my window; I was notin my chamber, as you know. I knew naught of the affair till M. de Briewas brought in bleeding. It was not by my will M. de Mar came here--itwas a misery to me. I sent him word by his boy that other night to leaveParis; I implored him to leave Paris. If, instead, he comes here, heracks my heart. It is no joy to me, no triumph to me, but a bitterdistress, that any honest gentleman should risk his life in a vain andempty quest. M. de Mar must go his ways, as I must go mine. Should heever make attempt to reach me again, and could I speak to him, I shouldtell him just what I have said now to you."
I pressed monsieur's hand in the endeavour to bring him back to sense;he seemed about to cry out on her. But mademoiselle's earnestness haddrawn all eyes.
"Pshaw, Lorance! banish these tragedy airs!" Mme. de Montpensierrejoined, her lightness little touched. A wounded bird falls by therippling water, but the ripples tinkle on. "M. de Mar is not likely everto venture here again; he had too warm a welcome last night. My faith,he may be dead by this time--dead to all as well as to you. After hevanished into Ferou's house, no one seems to know what happened. HasCharles told you, my sister?"
"Ferou gave him up, of course," Mme. de Mayenne answered. "Monsieur hasdone what seemed to him proper."
"You are darkly mysterious, sister."
Mme. de Mayenne raised her eyebrows and smiled, as one solemnly pledgedto say no more. She could not, indeed, say more, knowing nothingwhatever about it. Our mademoiselle spoke in a low voice, lookingstraight before her:
"If Heaven willed that he escaped last night, I pray he may leave thecity. I pray he may never try to see me more. I pray he may departinstantly--at once."
"I pray your prayers may be answered, so be it we hear no more of him,"Mme. de Montpensier retorted, tired of the subject she herself hadstarted. "He was never tedious himself, M. de Mar, but all this solemnprating about him is duller than a sermon." She raised a dainty handbehind which to yawn audibly. "Come, mesdames, let us get back to ourpurchases. Ma foi! it's lucky these jeweller folk know no French."
M. Etienne was himself again, all smiles and quick pleasantries. Islipped off to my post in the background, trying to get out of the eyeof Mlle. de Tavanne, who had been staring at me the last five minutes ina way that made my goose-flesh rise, so suspicious, so probing, was it.On my retreat she did indeed move her gaze from me, but only to watch M.le Comte as a hound watches a thicket. It was a miracle that none hadpounced on him before, so reckless had he been. I perceived withsickening certainty that Mlle. de Tavanne had guessed something amiss.She fairly bristled with suspicion, with knowledge. I waited frombreathless moment to moment for announcement. There was nothing to bedone; she held us in the hollow of her hand. We could not flee, we couldnot fight. We could do nothing but wait quietly till she spoke, and thensubmit quietly to arrest; later, most like, to death.
Minute followed minute, and still she did not speak. Hope flowed back tome again; perhaps, after all, we might escape. I wondered how high werethe windows from the ground.
As I stole across the room to see, Mlle. de Tavanne detached herselffrom the group and glided unnoticed out of the door.
It was thirty feet to the stones below--sure death that way. But she hadgiven us a respite; something might yet be done. I seized M. Etienne'sarm in a grip that should tell him how serious was our pass.Remembering, for a marvel, my foreign tongue, I bespoke him:
"Brother, it grows late. We must go. It will soon be dark. We must gonow--now!"
He turned on me with an impatient frown, but before he could answer,Mme. de Montpensier cried, with a laugh:
"And do you fear the dark, wench? Marry, you look as if you could takecare of yourself."
"Nay, madame," I protested, "but the box. Come, Giovanni. If we linger,we may be robbed in the dark streets."
"Why, my sister, where are your manners?" he retorted, striving to shakeme off. "The ladies have not yet dismissed me."
"We shall be robbed of the box," I persisted; "and the night air is badfor your health, my Nino. If you stay longer you will have trouble inthe throat."
He looked at me hard. I tried to make my eyes tell him that my fear wasno vague one of the streets, that his throat was in peril here and now.He understood; he cried with merry laughter to Mme. de Montpensier:
"Pray excuse her lack of manners, duchessa. I know what moves the maid.I must tell you that in the house where we lodge dwells also a beautifulyoung captain--beautiful as the day. It's little of his time he spendsat home, but we have observed that he comes every evening to arrayhimself grandly for supper at some one's palace. We count our day lostan we cannot meet him, by accident, on the stairs."
They all laughed. I, with my cheeks burning like any silly maid's, setto work to put up our scattered wares. But despair weighed me down; ifwe had to remember ceremony we were lost. The ladies were protesting,declaring they had not made their bargains, and monsieur was smirkingand bowing, as if he had the whole night before him. Our one chance wasto bolt; to charge past the sentry and flee as from the devil. I pulledmonsieur's arm again, and muttered in his ear:
"She knows us; she's gone to tell. We must run for it."
At this moment there arose from down the corridor piercing shriek onshriek, the howls of a young child frantic with rage and terror. At thesame time sounded other different cries, wild, outlandish chattering.
"The baby! It's Toto! Oh, ciel!" Mme. de Mayenne gasped. "Help,mesdames!" She rushed from the room, Mme. de Montpensier at her heels,all the rest following after.
All, that is, but one. Mlle. de Montluc started as the rest, but at thethreshold paused to let them pass. She flung the door to behind them,and ran back to monsieur, her face drawn with terror, her handoutstretched.
"Monsieur, monsieur!" she panted. "Go! you must go!"
He seized her hand in both of his.
"O Lorance! Lorance!"
She laid her left hand on his for emphasis.
"Go! go! An you love me, go!"
For answer he fell on his knees before her, covering those sweet handswith kisses.
The door was flung open; Mlle. de Tavanne stood on the threshold. Theystarted apart, monsieur leaping to his feet, mademoiselle springing backwith choking cry. But it was too late; she had seen us.
She was rosy with running, her little face brimming over with mischief.She flitted into the room, crying:
"I knew it! I knew it was M. de Mar! The gray eyes! M. le Duc has donewith him as he thought proper, forsooth! Well, I have done as I thoughtproper. I unchained Mme. de Montpensier's monkey and threw him into thenursery, where he's scared the baby nearly into spasms. Toto carried thecloth-of-gold coverlet up on top of the tester, where he's picking it topieces, the darling! They won't be back--you're safe for a while, mychildren. I'll keep watch for you. Make good use of your time. Kiss herwell, monsieur."
"Mademoiselle, you are an angel."
"No, she is the angel," Mlle. Blanche laughed back at him. "I'm but yourwarder. Have no fear; I'll keep good watch. Here, you in the petticoats,that were a boy the other night, go to the farther door. Mme. de Nemourstakes her nap in the second room beyond. You watch that door; I'll watchthe corridor. Farewell, my children! Peste! think you Blanche de Tavanneis so badly off for lovers that she need grudge you yours, Lorance?"
She danced out of the door, while I ran across to my station, Mlle. deMontluc standing bewildered, ardent, grateful, half laughing, half intears.
"Lorance, Lorance!" M. Etienne murmured tremulously. "She said I shouldkiss you--"
I put my fingers in my ears and then took them out again, for if my earswere sealed, how was I to hear Mme. de Nemours approaching? But I admitI should have kept my eyes glued to the crack of the door; that I everturned them is my shame. I have no business to know that mademoisellebowed her face upon her lover's shoulder, her hand clasping his neck,silent, motionless. He pressed his cheek against her hair, holding herclose; neither had any will to move or speak. It seemed they were wellcontent to stand so the rest of their lives.
Mademoiselle was the first to stir; she raised her head and strove tobreak away from his locked arms.
"Monsieur! monsieur! This is madness! You must go!"
"Are you sorry I came?" he demanded vibrantly. "Are you sorry, Lorance?"
His eyes held hers; she threw pretence to the winds.
"No, monsieur; I am glad. For if we never meet again, we have had this."
"Aye. If I die to-night, I have had to-day."
Their voices were like the rune of the heart of the forest, like themusic of deep streams. I turned away my head ashamed, and strove tothink of nothing but the waking of Mme. de Nemours.
"I thought you dead," she moaned, her voice muffled against his cheek."No one would tell me what happened last night. I could not devise anyway of escape for you--"
"There is a tunnel from Ferou's house to the Rue de la Soierie. Hismother--merciful angel--let me through."
"And you were not hurt?"
"Not a scratch, ma mie."
"But the wound before? Felix said--"
"I was put out of combat the night I got it," he explained earnestly,troubled even now because he had not obeyed her summons. "I was dizzy; Icould not walk."
"But now, monsieur? Does it heal?"
"It is well--almost. 'Twas but a slash on the arm."
"Oh, then have I no anxiety," she murmured, with a smile that twinkledacross her lips and was gone. "I cannot perceive you to be disabled,monsieur."
"My sweeting!" he laughed out. "If I cannot hold a sword yet, I can holdmy love."
"But you must not, monsieur," she cried, fear, that had slept a moment,springing on her again. "You must go, and this instant, while the othersare yet away. I knew you, Blanche knew you; some other will. Oh, go, go,I implore you!"
"If you will come with me."
She made no answer, save to look at him as at a madman.
"Nay, I mean not now, past the sentry. I am not so crazy as that. Butyou will slip out, you will find a way, and come to me."
Silently, sadly, she shook her head. His arms loosened, and she freedherself from him. But instantly he was close on her again.
"But you must! you will, you must! Ah, Lorance, my father is won over.He bids me win you. He has sworn to welcome you; when he sees you hewill be your slave."
"But my cousin Mayenne is not won over."
"Devil fly away with your cousin Mayenne!" M. Etienne retorted with avehemence that made me shudder, lest the walls have ears.
"Ah, you are free to say that, monsieur, but I am not. I am of hisblood, and dwell in his house, and eat at his board."
He was looking at her with a passionate ardour, grasping her actualwords less than their import of refusal.
"Are you afraid?" he cried. "Are you frightened, heart-root of mine? Youneed not be, mignonne. You can contrive to slip from the house--Mlle. deTavanne will help you. Once in the street, I will meet you; I will carryyou home to hold you against all the world."
"It is not that," she answered.
"Am I your fear?" he cried quickly. "Ah, Lorance, my Lorance, you neednot. I love you as I love the Queen of Heaven."
"Ah, hush!"
"As I love the Queen of Heaven. I will as soon do sacrilege toward heras ill to you."
He dropped on his knees before her, kissing the hem of her gown. Shestood looking down on his bowed head with a tenderness that seemed toinfold him as with a mantle.
He raised his eyes to hers, still kneeling at her feet.
"Lorance, will you come with me?"
She was silent a moment, with heaving breast and face a-quiver.
"Monsieur, I am sworn. That night when Felix came, when I was in deadlyterror for him and for you, Etienne, I promised my lord, an he wouldlift his hand from you, to obey him in all things. He bade me neveragain to hold intercourse with you--alack, I am already forsworn! But Icannot--"
He leaped to his feet, crying out:
"Lorance, he was the first forsworn! For he did move against me--"
"He told you--the warning went through Felix--that if you tried to reachme he would crush you as a buzzing fly. Oh, monsieur, I implored you toleave Paris! You are not kind to me, you are cruel, when you venturehere."
"You are cruel to me, Lorance."
Sighing, she turned from him, hiding her face in her hands.
"Mayenne has not kept faith with you!" monsieur went on vehemently. "Hehas broken his oath. I mean not last night. I had my warning; the attackwas provoked. But yesterday in the afternoon, before I made the attemptto see you, he sent to arrest me for the murder of the lackey Pontou."
"Paul's deed!" she cried in white surprise. "He spoke of it--we heard,Felix and I. What, monsieur! sent to arrest you? But you are here."
"They missed me. They took by mistake Paul de Lorraine."
"He was not here last night!" she cried. "Mayenne was demanding him ofme."
"Then he slept pleasantly in the Bastille. May he never look on theoutside of its walls again!"
"But he will, he does. He must be free by this time; they cannot keepMayenne's nephew in the Bastille. And oh, if he hated you before, how hewill hate you now! Oh, Etienne, if you love me, go! Go to your own camp,your own side, at St. Denis. There are you safe. Here in Paris you maynot draw a tranquil breath."
"And shall I flee my dangers? Shall I run, in the face of my peril?"
"Ah, monsieur, perhaps your life is nothing to you. But it is more to methan tongue can tell."
"My love, my love!" He snatched her into his arms; she held away fromhim to look him beseechingly in the face, her little clutching hands onhis shoulders.
"Oh, you will go! you will go!"
"Only if you come with me. Lorance, it is such a little way! Only tomeet me in the next square. We will slip out of the gatestogether--leave Paris and all its plots and murders, and at St. Deniskeep our honeymoon."
"Monsieur," she said slowly, "I am told that my cousin Mayenne offered amonth ago to give me to you for your name on the roster of the League.Is that true?"
"It is true. But you cannot think, Lorance, it was for any lack of lovefor you. I swear to you--"
"Nay, you need not. I have it by heart that you love me."
"Lorance!"
"But when you could not take me with honour you would not take me. Yourhouse stands against us; you would not desert you
r house. Am I then tobe false to mine?"
"A woman belongs to her husband's house."
"Aye, but she does not wed the enemy of her own. Monsieur, you are fullof loyalty; shall I have none? I was born, my father before me, in theshadow of the house of Lorraine; the Lorraine princes our kinsmen, ourmasters, our friends. When I was orphaned young, and penniless becauseKing Henry's Huguenots had wrenched our lands away, I came here to mycousin Mayenne, to dwell here in kindness and love as a daughter of thehouse. Am I to turn traitor now?"
"Lorance," he was fiercely beginning, when Mlle. de Tavanne bounded in.
"On guard!" she hissed at us. "They come!"
She looked behind her into the corridor. Mademoiselle gave her lips tomonsieur in one last kiss, and slipped like water from his arms. I wasat his side, and we busied ourselves over the trinkets, he with shakingfingers, cheeks burning through the stain.
The ladies streamed into the room, the lovely Mme. de Montpensier aloneconspicuous by her absence. Mme. de Mayenne's face was hot and angry,and bore marks of tears. Not in this room only had a combat raged.
"Never shall he come into this house again," madame was cryingvigorously. "I had had him strangled, the vile little beast, an she hadnot seized him. I will now, if she ever dares bring him hither again."
"You certainly should, madame," replied the nearest of the ladies. "Youhave been, in the goodness of your heart, far too forbearing, toopatient under many presumptions. One would suppose the mistress here tobe Mme. de Montpensier."
"I will show who is mistress here," the Duchesse de Mayenne retorted.Then her eye fell on Mlle. de Montluc, making her way softly to thedoor, and the vials of her wrath overflowed upon her:
"What, Lorance, you could not be at the pains to follow me to the rescueof my child! Your little cousin, poor innocent, may be eaten by thebeasts for aught you care, while you prink over trinkets."
Mademoiselle faced her blankly, scarce understanding, midst the whirl ofher own thoughts, of what she was accused. The little Tavanne camegallantly to the rescue:
"I did not follow you either, madame. We thought it scarcely safe;Lorance could not bear to leave this fellow alone."
Mme. de Mayenne glanced instinctively at her dressing-table's richaccoutrements, touched in spite of herself by such care of herbelongings.
"I had not suspected you maids of such fore-thought," she said withrelenting. "I vow for once I am beholden to you. You did quite right,Lorance."
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