CHAPTER III.
I Enter the Astrologer's House.
It was plain that whatever I decided to do must be done quickly. Iglanced at the messenger. He sat quite still, but his shrewd, beadyeyes were fixed on me as if to read my every thought. Evidently therewas no help to be expected from that quarter. And, worse still, theman had discovered his mistake. The instant I opened the door he wouldraise an alarm, and I should probably fare ill in the ensuing scuffle.
The rascal was aware of his advantage, and actually grinned.
"Pardon me, monsieur," he said, "but I am always amused by a comedy,and this one is so rich. It is like a battle in which both sides arebeaten, and yet both claim the victory. You have the paper and cannotmake use of it, while I----"
"You are in more danger than you seem to imagine."
"I think not, monsieur," he answered coolly.
It was certainly a most awkward position, and I tried in vain to hitupon some plan of action. If only the man would speak, and speak thetruth, he could make everything plain. I could not bribe him, and if Icould he would probably deceive me, but was there not a chance ofalarming him? I endeavoured to recall what Belloc had said. Henri washand in glove with De Retz, who was Mazarin's enemy, so that themessenger would probably not relish an interview with the Cardinal.
"Come," I said at length, "let us make a bargain. You shall tell methe meaning of this letter, and I will set you free. What do you say?"
"That you offer me nothing for something, monsieur, which is a goodbargain for you. Suppose I do not fall in with such a tempting offer?"
"In that case," I replied, speaking as sternly as possible, "I shallhand you over to the Guards of Cardinal Mazarin."
At this the rascal laughed merrily, saying, "The Cardinal may be agreat personage at the Palais Royal, but his credit is low in the Ruede Roi. No, no, monsieur, you must try again."
It was unpleasant to be played with in this manner, yet there was noremedy. I was still wondering what to do, when suddenly there came asound of footsteps in the corridor, and some one knocked at the door.The dwarf grinned with delight, but, pointing a pistol at his head, Ibade him be silent, and asked who was without.
"Armand d'Arcy."
I recognised the voice at once as that of the youngster who had broughtme to the inn. The little man also knew my visitor, and moved uneasilyin his chair till my pistol came in contact with his neck; then he satstill.
"Pardon! I am engaged."
"But you must spare five minutes. I have come on purpose to see you,"and lowering his voice he added earnestly, "the affair takes placeto-night."
Laughing softly at my prisoner, I said aloud, "What of it? You knowwhat to do."
"Then nothing is to be changed?" and there was a note of surprise inD'Arcy's voice.
"Not as far as I am concerned."
"And you will be there by ten without fail?"
"Certainly, why not?"
"Well, there was a rumour floating about last night that you intendedto withdraw."
"Rumour is generally a false jade," I said coolly.
"Ten o'clock, then, at the new church in the Rue St. Honore," and withthat he retired, evidently annoyed at having been kept out of the room.
"That lessens the value of your information," said I, turning to myprisoner.
"Considerably," he replied cheerfully. "I judged monsieur wrongly. Itis plain that his wits are as keen as his sword."
Ignoring the doubtful compliment, and taking up the note afresh, Iobserved that I should soon be able to tell who wrote it.
"It is possible," he agreed, "quite possible."
He had regained his composure, and, indeed, seemed rather pleased thanotherwise at the turn events were taking. Still he did not quite knowwhat to make of me, and now and then a shadow of anxiety flitted acrosshis face.
As we sat staring at each other it dawned upon me that I had a newproblem to solve. What was to be done with this unwelcome visitor? Ihad made up my mind to meet D'Arcy, and the sound of a neighbouringclock striking nine warned me there was short time left for decision.
"Suppose I let you go?" I asked, half amused at the comical situation.
"That would be agreeable to me."
"Would you promise to say nothing about this affair till the morning?"
"Readily, monsieur."
"And break your promise at the first opportunity?"
"That is probable, monsieur. You see, I have a very bad memory," andhe laughed.
"Then you must be kept here. I am sorry; I have no wish to hurt you,but there is no other way."
"As you please," he replied, and submitted quietly to be bound withstrips torn from the bedclothes.
I fastened the knots securely, yet so as to cause him the leastsuffering, and then proceeded to improvise a gag. At this point hiscalmness disappeared, and for a short time he looked both surprised andangry.
[Transcriber's note: illustration missing from book]
However, he soon recovered his spirits, and said admiringly, "Surelymonsieur must be a gaoler by profession; he knows all the tricks of thetrade."
"Ah," said I, laughing, "you did not expect this?"
He shook his head disconsolately.
"But it is necessary."
"It may be for you."
"Let us say for both, since you will be prevented from getting intomischief. But come; I will make you comfortable."
The man's eyes twinkled, and any one outside hearing him laugh wouldhave thought we were engaged in a humorous game.
"_Ma foi!_" he exclaimed, "you are politeness itself. First I am to bebound and gagged, and then made comfortable. But there is just onething which troubles me."
"Speak out; I may be able to set your mind at ease."
"It is just possible that some one, not knowing your good points, maycut off your head."
"Well?"
"In that case, with a gag in my mouth, I shall be unable to express mysorrow."
"Have no fear," I replied, catching his meaning. "Whatever happens tome, and the venture is certainly risky, I promise you shall be releasedin the morning."
"Thanks, monsieur," he said, looking considerably relieved, "youcertainly play the game like a gentleman."
I was really sorry to treat the man so scurvily, but, as a single wordfrom him would upset my plans, it was necessary to prevent him fromgiving warning. So, carefully inserting the gag and repeating thepromise to set him at liberty as soon as possible, I put my pistols inorder, took my hat, and went out, closing and fastening the door.
The sight of the innkeeper in the narrow passage reminded me that hemight be wondering what had become of the messenger, so I stopped andsaid, "If the dwarf returns before me, tell him to come again in themorning."
"Certainly, monsieur," he replied, holding the door open while I passedinto the courtyard.
As usual the Rue de Roi was crowded, and I thought some of the peoplelooked at me strangely, but this might have been mere fancy. Once,indeed, a man placed himself purposely in my path. It was the ruffianwho had spoken to me in the inn, but, not desiring his company, Iplaced a finger on my lips to indicate silence, and walked past rapidly.
Ten o'clock struck as, entering the Rue St. Honore, I passed up thestreet, seeking for the new church. Several people were still about,but I dared not ask for information, though where the church wassituated I had not the faintest idea. However, I kept straight on,and, a quarter after the hour, approached a huge pile of scaffoldingand the unfinished walls of a large building.
Here I paused in doubt, which was relieved by a whispered "De Lalande?"and the next instant Armand d'Arcy joined me.
"You are late," he exclaimed irritably. "The others have started, andI had almost despaired of your coming."
Taking my arm he crossed the road, hurried down a by-street, and, bywhat seemed a round-about route, led me into a most uninviting part ofthe city.
"Our friends have made good use of their
time," I remarked, hoping tolearn something useful from his conversation.
"They are anxious to surround the cage while the bird is still within.These strange rumours concerning the Abbe have made them uneasy."
"But I don't in the least understand you."
"Well, they must be untrue, or you would not be here. Still, theinformation came to us on good authority."
"Speak out, man, and let us clear up the matter; I am completely in thedark."
"Then," said he bluntly, "it is just this. We heard De Retz intendedto trick us, and that you, instead of having returned to Paris, werestill at Vancey. Of course I knew better, but the Abbe is a slipperycustomer!"
"Why not have told him your suspicions?"
D'Arcy slapped me on the back.
"Behold the innocence of the dove!" he exclaimed. "Of course he wouldhave denied everything and demanded our proofs. But he will do well toleave off this double game. With the Cardinal in our hands we shall betoo strong for him."
"I don't understand now."
"It is simple enough. You know that De Retz drew up the scheme andinduced us to join him. But he can't be trusted, and half of ourfellows believe he is playing us false."
"But why should he?"
"Ah, that is the mystery. He may have made his peace with the Cardinalfor all I know. However, you can't draw back now; so if he has cheatedus, he has cheated you. Is the plan changed in any way?"
"I have heard of no alteration."
"We had better make sure of our ground. It would be folly to miss sogood an opportunity through want of foresight, though I don't see howwe can fail," and, dropping his voice to a whisper, he went through allhis arrangements, only pausing now and again to ask my opinion, whichhe evidently valued highly.
I walked by his side like one in a dream, hardly knowing how to answer.Here was I, a simple country youth, plunged into a conspiracy so daringthat the recital of it almost took away my breath. The enterprise,started by the Abbe de Retz, was no less than the forcible carrying-offof Cardinal Mazarin, the most powerful man in France. I turned hot andcold at the thought.
It was known that the Cardinal, as a citizen, paid occasional visits toa certain astrologer, in whose house he was at present, and theconspirators had arranged their plans accordingly. False passportswere obtained, a body of horse were in readiness outside the gates, andit only remained to obtain possession of the Cardinal's person. Thispart, it appeared, De Retz had promised should be undertaken by mycousin, who was deep in his confidence, while a band of reckless youngnobles, with D'Arcy at their head, should form an escort.
"Once we get the old fox trapped, the rest will be easy," said mycompanion. "I warrant he won't get loose again in a hurry."
"No," said I, puzzling my brain as to why De Retz had at the lastmoment drawn back from the venture.
There was no doubt he had written the note even then inside my doublet.Something had occurred to shake his resolution, but what was it? Hadhe really joined hands with the Cardinal? The letter to Henri did notlook like it. Had he intended all along to sacrifice his allies? Idid not think so, because his note seemed to hint at their possiblesuccess. Perhaps, and it was my final conclusion, some unexpecteddanger had compelled him to hold his hand.
What ought I to do? As we walked along, Armand d'Arcy rallied me on mysilence, but happily the darkness hid my face, or he must havesuspected something was wrong.
"Are you growing nervous, De Lalande?" he asked banteringly. "I havealways heard that nothing could alarm you."
"I am not alarmed."
"The old fox will be surprised by our visit. I wonder if he has goneto the astrologer's to have his fortune told?"
"Very likely. He believes in the stars and their influence."
"Now, for me, I put more faith in a sharp sword," said D'Arcy,laughing, "but everyone to his taste. Steady, now, some of our fellowsought to be posted here."
"Suppose," I asked, suddenly coming to a halt, "that instead oftrapping Mazarin, we are walking into a trap ourselves?"
"Why, in that case, my friend, you will be the only one caught. Weshall remain in hiding till you give the signal."
"Of course," and I heaved a sigh of relief, "I had not thought of that."
D'Arcy's words had shown me a way out of the difficulty. I intended,if possible, to save the Cardinal, yet I could not in honour betray themen whose secret I had discovered by such a series of strange accidents.
As it was, my course seemed plain and open. I had only to see Mazarin,acquaint him with his danger, and get him into a place of safety; afterthat I could tell the conspirators their plans were discovered, andthey would quickly disperse. Mazarin might not believe my story, butsomething must be left to chance.
"We are getting near now," whispered D'Arcy presently; "you don't wishto draw back?"
"Not in the least, why?"
"Because if you do, I will take your place. If the plan fails it isthe Bastille for you, and perhaps a rope with a running knot from thewalls."
"Pshaw! there is no danger for me, and you can take care of yourselves."
At the end of a by-street, we were challenged by a low "_Qui-vive?_"when we instantly halted.
"_Notre Dame!_" replied D'Arcy quietly. "Is that you, Peleton? Are wein time?"
"The old fox has not come out, and a light still burns in the thirdwindow. Have you brought De Lalande?"
"Here he is."
"_Ma foi!_ 'tis more than I expected. But I warn our friend that if hemeans playing us false he will have need to look to himself."
A ready answer sprang to my lips, but I checked it. D'Arcy hadevidently only a passing acquaintance with my cousin, but this manmight know him well; in which case the trick would be discovered.
"Peleton is always suspecting some one," laughed D'Arcy, "and generallywithout cause."
"Well, if anything goes wrong, remember I warned you!" growled theother.
"Peace!" cried a third man, stepping from the shadow of a doorway."Small wonder the Cardinal wins, when we spend our time in squabblingbetween ourselves. De Lalande, you are late, but now you have come,let us begin the business without more delay. Mazarin is still in thehouse, and our men are waiting. The horses are harnessed, and directlyyou give the signal the carriage will be at the door. I need not warnyou to take care of yourself."
"Three knocks, remember," said D'Arcy. "We will stand here in theshadow; the others are in their places, and keeping a sharp look-out."
"One minute!" I whispered to him. "There is just a trifling matter Iwish done. If I don't return--and that seems not unlikely--will you gostraight back to La Boule d'Or? You will find a man in my room tied upand gagged; set him at liberty."
D'Arcy gave a low whistle of surprise, but without asking for anexplanation he promised to go.
"If we succeed I can attend to him myself," I added. "Now stand back."
"Don't forget," said the third man, "that if the Cardinal slips throughyour fingers your own neck will be in danger."
"Good luck," cried D'Arcy softly, as I crossed the road to theastrologer's house.
For a moment, as my companions disappeared, my courage failed. I wasbound on a really desperate venture, and the first false slip mightland me in a dungeon of the dreaded Bastille.
Suppose that Mazarin, having learned of the plot, had filled the housewith his Guards? Once I raised my hand and dropped it, but the secondtime I knocked at the door, which, after some delay, was opened wideenough to admit the passage of a man's body. The entry was quite dark,but I pushed in quickly, nerving myself for whatever might happen. Atthe same moment sounds of firing came from the street, and I heard theman Peleton exclaim, "Fly! We are betrayed!"
I turned to the door, but some one was already shooting the bolts,while a second person, pressing a pistol against my head, exclaimedroughly, "Don't move till we have a light. The floor is uneven, andyou might hurt yourself by falling."
"You can put down that wea
pon," I said. "I am not likely to run away,especially as I have come of my own free will to see your master'svisitor."
The fellow laughed, and lowered his pistol.
"You will see him soon enough," said he, and I judged by his tone thathe did not think the interview would be a pleasant one.
Another man now arriving with a lantern, I was led to the end of thepassage, up three steps, and so into a large room, sparsely furnished,but filled with soldiers. Truly the Abbe was well advised inwithdrawing from the conspiracy.
"_Peste!_" exclaimed the officer in charge, "why, 'tis De Lalandehimself, only the peacock has put on daw's feathers. Well, my friend,you have sent your goods to sea in a leaky boat this time."
He took a step towards me, and then stopped in astonishment.
"What mystery is this?" he cried. "Are you not Henri de Lalande? But,no, I see the difference now. Ah, Henri is a clever fellow after all;I thought he would not trust himself on this fool's errand. But youare marvellously like him. Well, well; whoever you are, the Cardinalis anxious to see you."
"I came on purpose to speak to him. Had I known he was so wellprepared to receive visitors I might have spared myself a troublesomejourney."
"And deprived His Eminence of a great pleasure! Unbuckle your sword,and place your pistols on the table. The Cardinal is a man of peace,and likes not martial weapons."
To resist was useless; so I surrendered sword and pistols, which theofficer handed to one of his men.
"Now," he said, "as you are so anxious to meet the Cardinal, I willtake you to him at once. This way."
We toiled up a narrow, steep, and dimly-lighted staircase, at the topof which a soldier stood on guard, while another paced to and fro alongthe narrow landing. Both these men, as well as those in the lower partof the house, wore the Cardinal's livery.
There were three rooms, and, stopping outside the second, the officerknocked at the door, while the soldier on duty stood close behind me.For a time there was no answer, but presently a calm voice bade usenter, and the next instant I stood face to face with the most powerfulman in France.
My Sword's My Fortune: A Story of Old France Page 3