The Black Wolf's Breed

Home > Other > The Black Wolf's Breed > Page 8
The Black Wolf's Breed Page 8

by Harris Dickson


  CHAPTER VII

  AT THE AUSTRIAN ARMS

  It was well into the night when the first dim lights of Paris came intoview, and perhaps some two good hours afterwards before we drew up infront of the "Austrian Arms."

  It was not a new or prepossessing place, yet much better than those Ihad seen along the road from Dieppe.

  The host well deserved Serigny's appellation of a churl, for he lookedsuspiciously at me, and when I asked for de Greville replied he knewnothing of him. I could get no satisfaction from him, so I determinedto take up my abode and wait. In I went and heeded not the surly hostwho regarded me askance.

  The small public room was vacant, and I possessed myself of it with thesettled air of a man who has come to stay. Verily the fire felt mostgrateful, and it did me much comfort to stretch as I listed, after thetedious confinement of the coach. Mine host busied himself aboutmending the fire, but whenever I raised my eyes I caught his gaze fixeddoubtingly upon me. Evidently the man knew more than he told, and Iplanned to test his loyalty.

  "Here, my good man," I called to him, "dost know anything of thisJerome de Greville? Where is he?"

  "By our Lady, noble sir, I know him not. Paris is a great city, andmany noble gentlemen come and go at their will."

  "But M. de Greville lodges with you, I am told. My business is urgent."

  "I do not recall such a name? Jerome de Greville?" and the rascalturned his eyes to the ceiling in the attitude of deep contemplation.I smiled inwardly.

  "If it please you, sir, to write your name in my guest book, shouldMonsieur de Greville call I will show it him. You may tell me whereyou can be found."

  He fetched out a worn and greasy book from a chest in the rear, andhanded me a pen, watching, as I thought, with some interest, what nameI would write, though I much questioned if he could read it. I pushedthe book aside.

  "Oh, it matters not, my name; it is an obscure one, and M. de Grevillewould not recall it. See here my good fellow, here is a gold piece toaid thy memory. At what hour will M. de Greville return?"

  He took the coin, and turning it over and over in his palm, said, as ifto it:

  "If Monsieur will write a note and leave it, I will send to other innsand see if such a man be in Paris. Monsieur is of Gascony?" heventured.

  The Gascons were at this time regarded with distrust, it was such aneasy matter for them to carry news into Spain, being on the border.

  I soon found there was nothing to be gained from the fellow, andbecoming convinced of his steadfastness was willing he should keep thecoin as earnest money for future services. De Greville not coming in,I grew restive, and concluded I would stroll about the city. Claude,for so the landlord styled himself, directed me to the principalthoroughfare, and I thought by walking straight along one street Icould easily return. There was nothing unusual in the neighboringbuildings to make a landmark of, so I chose a great round tower not faraway, and carefully laid my bearings from that.

  The landlord watched me taking my observations and felt sure I wouldshortly return; the more so that my few articles of apparel andnecessity were left stowed in the corner by his hearth. These I hadpurposely so arranged that I could detect any meddling. Throwing mycloak about me I took the way he indicated, and soon passed into awider and more handsome street, which I came afterward to know.Walking idly on, without thought of distance or direction, I tiredafter a while, and began to think of getting back to the inn fireside.I retraced my steps perfectly, I thought, and if my calculations wereright should have stood where the broad, well-lighted street I hadtraversed corners on Rue St. Denis. But the locality was entirelystrange, and I had lost sight of the great tower which I thought wouldguide me home, when a squad of the watch halted me and questioned myerrand.

  "I am a gentleman, and officer of the King," I replied with such an airthey passed on.

  "I pray you, gentlemen, direct me to the Rue St. Denis, thence I canfind my way."

  The man gave me directions which simply confused me, and, ashamed toconfess my ignorance, I blundered on to where five or six narrow,crooked streets ran together, branching out like the fingers from mypalm. I paused now uncertain which way to go amid so many deviouscourses, and deciding almost at hazard, turned down the best paved ofall those dingy streets. I had hardly gone past more than two crossstreets, when there stood at a corner, looking timidly this way andthat, a slight girl, with blonde hair and eyes of Breton blue. Sheseemed so brave, yet so out of place and helpless at that hour of thenight, on such an unfrequented road, I almost made so bold as toaddress her, thinking I might be of service to a lady in distress. Butmy tongue was not formed for such well chosen words and polite phrases,so I merely held to one side, she standing to the outer edge to admitof my passage.

  At the moment I got opposite her, it seems she had misjudged the widthof the pavement, for I heard her give a slight ejaculation, and onefoot slipped off the paved way as if she would fall into the muddystreet. I passed my arm quickly about her, and raised her to a placeof safety, but even then could bring no word of courtly elegance to myassistance.

  She thanked me prettily and daintily, and as I pursued my course, Icould but turn and give yet another glance in her direction. Shecaught my eye, and again looking each way, bent her steps down a by-wayleading off to the left, which we were that instant nearest. There wasthat in her manner, I could not say exactly what, which led me tofollow her at a respectful distance, seeing which she turned her head,and I fancied I could observe a thankful little smile playing about herlips. At any rate she quickened her pace and walked with moreassurance, no longer in doubt about her movements.

  For many rods at times she would be lost to view in the dark, and hertread was so light it scarcely made a sound--or the great, clumsyclattering I created drowned it entirely. Just at the time I thought Ihad lost her, I could catch a glimpse of a flitting skirt beneath oneof the flambeaux, which, stuck in niches of the wall here and there,lighted old Paris.

  In a very pleasant frame of mind, I strode along behind her. It waswonderful, I thought, how readily a woman's intuition recognizes aprotector. And I--for I must admit I was young then; in the ways ofwomen, far younger than my years--I amused myself with many conjecturesconcerning what manner of errand had taken this young woman abroadalone on such a night. A lady she plainly seemed. Disguised a little,that might be, for her quiet dignity did not fully comport with thestyle of her dress.

  A thousand airy castles I built for my fair heroine to live in, and I,like the knightly heroes of the Crusades, was ever her defender, everher champion in the lists.

  Busied with these fancies and romantic thoughts, I lost count ofstreets and passages, turning this way, that and the other, throughmany narrow and tortuous byways and alleys, until I realized I washopelessly lost. With my fair guide in front and my good sword by myside, lightly I recked of streets or houses. Yet I dared not forget Iwas on an errand for the Governor and must not expose myself tobootless peril.

  At last, and somewhat to my relief, she stopped before a great oakeniron-studded gate, possibly of five good paces width, in one corner ofwhich was cut a smaller door so low a man must stoop to pass. Uponthis smaller door she rapped and stood in the attitude of waiting.

  I had a moment now to look about me. It was in a quarter of the townthat was forbidding. Here were two huge, dismal, gray-stone mansions,separated by a court-yard of probably forty paces across; a high wallfronted the street, flanked by a tower on either side the gate. Ontop, this wall was defended by bits of broken glass and spikes ofsteel, stuck into the masonry while it was yet soft. More than thisthe flickering brazier would not permit me to see. All of this I tookin at a glance; across the street the murkiness of the night shut outmy view. She rapped again, impatiently, but in the same manner asbefore. A trifling space thereafter the smaller door was opened,whoever was inside having first peeped out through a round hole, whichclosed itself with a shutter no bigger than his eye.

  The l
ady looked first to me, then stepped inside and stood back as ifshe bade me enter.

  This was an adventure I had not bargained for. Thinking only to seethat the lady reached her destination in safety, here was acomplication of which I had never dreamed. What her singular errandwas, or wherein she desired my assistance, I could not even hazard aguess. Yet there she stood and beckoned me to enter, and I movedforward a pace or two so I could see within the door.

  The _concierge_ held the door ajar, and a more repulsive, deformedwretch I never laid eyes upon. His left arm hung withered by his side;at his girdle he swung a bunch of keys, with any one of which a strongman might have brained an ox. Every evil passion which curses the raceof men had left its imprint upon his lowering countenance. Yet for amoment, when his gaze rested upon the girl, it was as though some sparkof her loveliness drove the villainy from his face. He was hardly sotall as she who stood beside him watching me, the semblance of amocking sneer about her lips. Looking past them both I could see whatmanner of place it was. A smoky oil-lamp sputtered in the rear,sufficiently distinct to disclose the paved court-yard, covered withthe green slime which marks the place where no sun ever shines.Further than this I could see nothing except the tall gray buildingswhich shut in every side and this wall in front. That door once lockedupon the intruder there would be no easy egress. Instinctively I heldback.

  "Monsieur is afraid?" she inquired, then tossed back her head, andlaughed such a low, disdainful, mean laugh, as fired my every nerve tohear. I hesitated no longer. Let come what will, let the Governor'serrand look to itself, for no man or no woman could ever laugh at melike that.

  Holding my blade at easy command, I stepped inside. Immediately thedoor closed, and the rasping of the key told me it was securely lockedas before. Then came regret, but came too late. What I had sofoolishly commenced, I must now see finished. The cup had been takenin hand and the dice must be thrown.

  As we came, I followed her again, though at much closer range. Wecrossed the yard diagonally, across the broken panes, bits of casks,wine bottles and other refuse scattered about. I liked not the aspectof the place. As the girl was about to enter a door leading inside thebuilding, a man came down the inner stairs and passed out, coming inour direction. For the moment he was under the light I had good sightof him.

  A rather low, dark fellow, dressed in the height of the fashion, yetsomewhat flashily withal; not too foppish, he was evidently a younggallant of the better class. He staggered somewhat from wine, andcarried a magnificent breadth of shoulder, denoting considerablestrength. This was my mental catalogue from the glimpse I caught.

  By this time, the lady had got rather within the range of the light;the man came straight at her, and, to my amazement, despite herstruggles, seized and kissed her. This was before I could reach them.

  I was upon him in an instant. Another, and he had reeled back againstthe wall, drawing his weapon as he fell. He recovered his feet, myblade met his, yet each paused, well knowing the deadly lottery of sucha duel in the dark.

  The lady ran up as nearly between us as she dared, and besought:

  "Oh, Messires, Messires," she plucked me by the sleeve, "do not fight;there is no need of it."

  "Get out of the way you impudent hussy," he commanded, "I'll kill yourmeddling lover, like the varlet hound he is."

  I went at him in earnest. His further insult to her made every musclea cord of steel. I soon found this no mere sport, for the fellow was athorough master of his weapon. I was a trifle the taller and had alonger reach; this, with my heavier blade, gave me well the vantage.Besides I had touched no wine, and my nerves were steady.

  However, I had the light full in my face, and he was not slow to seethe annoyance it caused me. I knew I could not maintain such a fightfor long, so I pressed him sternly and the bright sparks flew.Backwards, step by step he retreated, until he had almost reached thedoor out of which he came. I durst not withdraw my eyes from his, yetI had seen the lady run swiftly up the inner stairs, whether for helpor for other assassins I could not guess.

  Still back, ever pressing him desperately back, the fight went, and hestood again inside the door, at the very foot of the stair. Now everyadvantage was mine, for he was well within the glow of the lamp, everymovement distinctly visible, while I yet stood in darkness.

  "For the sake of mercy, my lord, come quick." It was the girl's voiceat the head of the stairs; "there they are. They will desist if youcommand it." And I heard the heavy tread of two men coming down thestairs, a lighter step behind them. My foot touched something whichlay in the dense shadow of the doorstep. It felt soft, a package ofsome kind. Then I remember seeing something fall from the cloak of myadversary forgotten in the heat of the fray. I placed my foot upon it.

  "What quarrel is this, gentlemen? Put by your swords?"

  The voice was that of a man accustomed to obedience. My antagoniststood entirely upon the defensive; I stepped back a pace and we restedat ease. He leaned heavily against the balustrade; his breath camehard; I could see he was nearly spent, so furious had been our shortcontest. His face showed, besides, the flush of too much wine, orperchance I had not been so fortunate.

  "What mean you, gentlemen? Your quarrel?"

  "I did but kiss the wench, and this fellow set upon me in the dark."

  "Aye, my lord," I replied stoutly, according to the stranger therespect he seemed to command. "A wanton insult to this lady whom I metunprotected in the streets, and saw her safely to her gate. Who sheis, or what, I know not."

  The two men looked at each other, from the girl to me, then burst intosuch peals of incredulous laughter as roused my anger again. Even mylate foe joined in, but faintly.

  "Would either of you, my lords, be pleased to take the matter up?" forI was hot now indeed.

  But they only laughed the more. The lady looked much confused.

  "Thou art not of Paris?" the taller man asked.

  "No, this is my first night in Paris."

  "I thought as much. This _lady_," the tall man continued in asarcastic tone, "permit me to present you to Mademoiselle Florine,waitress and decoy pigeon for Betrand's wine rooms, where gentlemensometimes play at dice."

  He laughed again, and even the girl could muster up a smile now thatthe danger had blown over.

  "That is true, Mademoiselle?" I asked. She nodded.

  "Then, good sirs, I'll fight no more in such a matter."

  "And by my soul, comrade, right glad I am to hear you say it; for youfight like a very devil of hell, and Carne Yvard knows a swordsman."

  Carne Yvard! The very fellow I had been sent out to find, now by aqueer chance thrown full in my way. Verily, I was relieved to know Icould hold my own against this famous--or infamous--bravo. Anotherthing gained; I knew my man while yet a stranger to him. And further,I stumbled on the very place which of all others I desired to find.Truly the chance was odd.

  The two gentlemen upon the stair had not yet staunched their merriment,while these thoughts coming so unexpectedly had swept from me everyrecollection of the fight.

  "Thou art not of Paris?" the spokesman asked again.

  I heard him as a man hears something afar off, for my foot resting uponthe package which had been dropped, sent my mind a wandering again.Could it be that this was a paper of importance, or possibly the veryone I desired? Why not? I resolved to possess it at every hazard.Yet were I to stoop and pick it up now, and they saw me, I knew of nomeans by which I might leave the place in safety. So I carelesslyshoved it with my foot farther into the shadow of the step. I answeredthe question asked me so long before.

  "No, my lord, the city is a strange one to me."

  "Of what place, did you say?"

  Now I had purposely refrained from saying, and did not know what replyto give. I hated to appear boorish, besides it would not serve mypurpose. My father being of Normandy, I deemed I would have nearly theaccent of those people, so I made a venture to say:

  "Of Norm
andy, sir," in such a way he did not pursue the subject further.

  "We thought you no Parisian, or this lady would not have made so easy aconquest," and they laughed again.

  "Do you play?" he queried.

  "But rarely, my lord," the fact was I knew little of the dice.

  They put about and ascended the stair, the two together, then Yvard, Icoming on behind, but not until the packet, from which I hoped so much,was safely in my bosom. This was easily accomplished when Yvard hadturned his back.

  We climbed the stair, and after some forty or fifty paces stood insidethe room of which Serigny had spoken to me. I could recognize theplace from his description.

  The gaming tables were ranged about in the center of the room, andabout them sat many men--and women, too--at play. On three sides ofthe place a row of columns ran some four or five yards from the wall.These pillars formed convenient alcoves for those who would sit and siptheir wine. Some were curtained, the better to screen their occupants.Others stood broadly open.

  The four of us walked over to a table well out of view and sat down towine. It was then I regretted not having already heeded Serigny'sadmonition to provide myself with garments more suited to my character,for I felt I attracted some attention as we passed through the room,and this was most to be avoided.

  We seated ourselves about the table and ordered wine; mine remaineduntasted while the others drank. I determined to touch no wine thatnight.

  "Comrade, you do not drink," Yvard remarked, "is your blood still hotwith the clash of steel?"

  "No, by my honor, that is long forgotten; it is my oath, an oath, too,that can not be broken."

  "Ah, to a lady?"

  I nodded, and he smiled.

  We talked indifferent gossip, and after awhile the Spanish troubleswere mentioned; I think the tall man first spoke of it. Somehow I feltYvard's carelessness to be assumed, and that he very much desired tohear what these two gentlemen would say on a matter so important. Hismanner made it plain to me he knew the two gentlemen, and also thatthey were men of rank. However, they were quite discreet; while theytalked much, yet they said nothing which was not common talk on thestreets. After a bit they arose to leave, and I was sorely perplexedwhether it were better that I depart with them, now that papers whichmight be valuable rested safely against my breast, or had I better stayand endeavor to learn more from Yvard, who was beginning to drinkheavily. Perhaps a little more liquor might loosen his tongue, and Imight even capture him or his confederate. Discretion would have takenme away, for that these two gentlemen were powerful enough to protectme in case of trouble in the house I did not doubt. The bearing of theelder man especially was such as to inspire confidence.

  The adventure, though, was too enticing, and the hotter counsels ofyouth prevailed. I bade the gentlemen good night, and remained sittingat table with Yvard. It was but a few moments before I regretted myunwise decision.

  Yvard leaned forward, the edge of the table pressing against hisbreast, and in so doing noticed the absence of the paper which he hadforgotten in the fight. His face changed instantly, the drunken leervanished. At first there was merely a puzzled expression, as of anintense effort to remember. He looked swiftly at me. I gave no sign.The two men were gone. His anxiety convinced me of the importance ofthe papers. He thought for a moment, then excused himself and went outthe way we came. As he passed through the room, I saw him stoop andwhisper a word to one of the men at the dice table. In a minute thefellow shifted his seat, and though he continued to play, he had takena position where, as I imagined, he could watch me that I did notleave. I became uneasy now, for I could not tell how many there were,and my principal thought was how to get out of the house. Assuredlynot by the way I entered.

  Looking about more carefully to note the different means of egress, myattention was attracted by a carven shield above the main door. Thearms were the same as those graven on the locket shown me by Coloneld'Ortez the night I left Biloxi. There, standing out boldly above thedoor, was the same sable wolf, the crest of the d'Artins. For a momenthis story filled my mind again but I had no time then for suchreflections, and dismissed them to a future period of leisure. Thequestion how to leave the house on that particular night gave meinfinitely more concern than the idle speculation as to who hadprobably owned it long years before.

 

‹ Prev