CHAPTER VI.
Was I Mistaken?
At the corner of the narrow street opposite the astrologer's house Istopped suddenly, and hid in the shelter of a doorway. Two men,wearing cloaks so arranged that their faces could not be seen, stoodbefore the door, waiting for admission. One, a short man, was astranger to me, but at the other I looked my hardest.
It is not an easy matter to distinguish a person whose features arehidden, but if height, build, and general carriage counted foranything, then the tall man was no other than my cousin Henri.Presently, after a whispered conversation with some one inside, theyentered the house, and the door was shut.
Now, although Mazarin kept his own counsel, I had learned that thehouse of the good Martin was a kind of spider's web, and that the sillyflies entangled in its meshes were for the most part members of theFronde. The house was visited by persons of both sexes and of allranks, from the members of the Royal family downwards. They went therefor all sorts of purposes. Some required rare medicines, others charmsto ward off or drive away disease; one desired to learn the date of hisdeath, another the success or failure of his plans, which theastrologer was supposed to tell by the stars or by means of crystalglobes.
And the learned Martin, while plying his strange trade, discovered alltheir secrets, their hopes and fears, their ambitions, their loves andhates; and in due time the information reached that famous room in thePalais Royal, where the wily Italian sat, spinning the fate of men andnations alike.
It was no rare event therefore for strangers to be observed at theastrologer's house, and in an ordinary way I should have taken nofurther notice of the incident. But if one of the visitors was reallymy cousin, there must be something strange happening. He had no faithin the stars, and would certainly not bother his head about the futureas depicted in glass balls.
Besides--and this made the mystery deeper--he must know that Martin wasthe Cardinal's friend, or rather dependant; and it seemed strange thatso clever a man as my cousin should trust himself in an enemy's power.My head began to swim again as I tried to reason the matter out. Wasit Henri after all? It was possible I had been mistaken, and in anycase the note must be delivered, so, crossing the road, I knockedboldly at the door.
After some delay the window above my head was opened, and a manglancing out asked my business.
"To see your master, and that sharply," I replied.
Saying he would admit me immediately, the fellow disappeared, andpresently I heard him stumbling along the passage. He spent a longtime undoing the bolts and bars, but at last the door was opened wide.
"Enter, monsieur," said the fellow, "you will be welcome, though mymaster is not dressed to receive visitors. He has passed the night inreading the heavens, and is fatigued."
"That is strange! I thought he already had callers this morning."
Gazing at me in profound astonishment, the man exclaimed, "Visitorshere, monsieur? Impossible! You are the first to call."
"I must have been mistaken, then," said I, with assumed calmness, butreally more perplexed than ever. Unless my eyes had deceived me, theman was not speaking truly--but why? Surely his master was at libertyto receive anyone who chose to visit him!
Then another idea struck me. If Henri was one of the two men who hadentered the house, were we likely to meet? and if so, what wouldhappen? I had done his cause much harm, and had besides made him alaughing-stock for the wits of Paris. Martin was no fighting man, andthe odds against me would be at least two to one. It seemed as if Ihad stumbled again by accident into a hornet's nest.
While I brooded over these things the man fumbled with the door, takingso long to replace the bars that I called on him sharply to make morehaste.
"I am ready, monsieur; this way," and he led me along the well-knownpassage, up the crazy staircase, and so to the corridor, where on myrecent visit a soldier had kept guard.
Opening the door of the room in which I had first met Mazarin, the manrequested me to step inside and wait a moment or two whilst his masterdressed. The apartment appeared empty, but I kept my hand on my sword,and was careful to peer behind the curtain. Rather, perhaps, to mysurprise no one was there; so I returned to the middle of the room andstood by the table. In truth I felt very uneasy, and wished myselfsafely in the street.
Five anxious minutes passed before the astrologer entered. He wasattired in dressing-gown, skull-cap, and slippers, and by his face onewould judge that he really had been keeping vigil all night.
"I regret to have kept you waiting," he said, with an air of apology,"but your visit is somewhat early."
"Yet it seems I am not the first to need your services this morning."
"How?" exclaimed he. "You are mistaken. No one but yourself has beenhere since yesterday."
"Well, I was certainly under the impression that two men entered thishouse, as I approached it. But it is no concern of mine, except thattheir presence might interfere with my errand. Be kind enough to readthis note, and to give me a written reply for the Cardinal."
Breaking the seal, he read the missive, and sitting down, rapidlycovered a sheet of paper with small, cramped, but legible writing,while I stood on guard and alert, half expecting a sudden attack fromsome unknown enemies.
However, nothing unusual happened. The astrologer finished his letter,sealed it, and handed it to me, saying earnestly, "Take care of this,as it is of more consequence than you may imagine. Further, it isnecessary that His Eminence should receive it without delay."
"_Peste!_" answered I laughing; "as my breakfast still waits for me inthe Rue des Catonnes I am not likely to waste much time on the road,"and, bidding him adieu, I followed the servant, who had remained in thecorridor, downstairs.
"Monsieur has discovered his error?" said the fellow, questioningly, ashe conducted me along the narrow passage.
"Yes, the men must have gone into the next house. However, it does notmatter one way or another. I only feared to be kept waiting."
It was pleasant to be in the open air again, and I drew a deep breath.The janitor barred the door, and I crossed the road in a state ofbewilderment. That two men had entered the house I felt positive, andthe more so from the odd behaviour of Martin and his servant. Who werethey? What did they want? Why had Martin lied about the matter?These questions, and others like them, kept my brain busily employed,but to no purpose. I could supply no satisfactory answers, and everypassing moment left me more perplexed.
It struck me once that Martin was playing the Cardinal false, but thisseemed absurd, and yet----
"No, no," I muttered, "he would not dare. Still, there is somethinggoing on with which Mazarin should be made acquainted."
I did not relish the idea of playing the spy, but I was breaking noconfidence, and, after all, it was necessary to protect one's ownfriends. My plan was soon formed. I walked along the narrow street,waited five minutes at the farther end, and returned cautiously to adingy cabaret, from which a good view of the house could be obtained.
"Now," thought I, "unless my wits are wool-gathering, I am about tobehold a miracle. I am going to see two men leave a place which theydid not enter. Surely this Martin is something more than anastrologer?"
For nearly an hour I remained with my eyes fixed on the door, which,however, remained closed, and I began to feel a trifle discouraged.What if I had discovered a mare's nest? The important letter was stillin my pocket, and Mazarin would be none too pleased at the delay.Perhaps it would be best to abandon the enterprise and to return atonce.
I had almost resolved on this plan when two men strolled past the inn.Filled with amazement, I rose quickly, and went into the street. Thedoor of the astrologer's house was shut; in truth it had not beenopened, yet here were my mysterious strangers several yards in front ofme! Rubbing my eyes, I wondered if I had made a second blunder! Butthat was impossible, and the idea not worth considering. While I stoodthus, dazed and half-stupefied by the strangeness of the affair, themen had walked hal
f-way along the street.
Paris was now fully awake, the shops were open, people were hurrying totheir daily tasks, and the number of persons abroad made it difficultto keep sight of my quarry. Several times the men stopped, and glancedbehind, as if afraid of being followed, but they did not notice me,and, after a long roundabout journey, we all reached the Rue St.Dominique.
Here the strangers, evidently concluding that caution was no longernecessary, pushed back their hats and drew their cloaks from theirfaces. It was as I had suspected from the first--the tall man was mycousin Henri, but his companion was unknown to me. Taking a good look,in order to describe him to Mazarin, I found him to be a short, darkman, with an ugly face, but beautiful white teeth. His eyes were beadyand restless, he was bandy-legged, and walked with a peculiarly awkwardgait.
Half-way along the street the two stopped outside a handsome building,conversed earnestly together for several minutes, and then, ascendingthe steps, disappeared.
"Pouf!" I exclaimed. "What can that little bandy-legged fellow bedoing at the Hotel de Chevreuse? I wager he and my cousin are brewingsome fresh mischief."
As no good could possibly come from further waiting, I turned away, andhurried back to the Palais Royal, eager to inform Mazarin of mydiscovery, and to get my breakfast. Roland Belloc met me in thecourtyard, and held up a warning finger.
"You are in disgrace, my friend," said he, gravely; "the Cardinal hasbeen waiting for you a long time. He has sent out repeatedly in thelast hour to ask if you had returned."
"He will forgive the delay--I have discovered something of importance."
Dressed in his ceremonial robes, the Cardinal sat at the table, with anominous frown on his face.
"The letter!" he cried impatiently, directly on my entrance. "Where isMartin's list? By my faith, M. de Lalande, you do well to keep HerMajesty waiting a whole hour!" and he took the paper from my handsomewhat ungraciously.
The letter apparently contained good news, and the Cardinal, smilingalmost joyously, rose to leave the room.
"One moment, my Lord," I observed, "I have something to tell you whichmay be important."
"It must stay till after the audience; I cannot keep the Queen waitinglonger. I shall return in an hour or two. Meanwhile Bernouin will seethat you obtain some breakfast," and he summoned his secretary.
"M. de Lalande has not breakfasted," said he. "I leave him in yourcharge. Meanwhile I can see no one. Do you understand?"
Bernouin, a man of few words, responded by a low bow.
After partaking of a hearty breakfast, I lay down upon a couch, and,being thoroughly tired, fell fast asleep, not waking again till towardsthe middle of the afternoon, when Bernouin came to say the Cardinalawaited me.
Jumping up, I followed the secretary, not wishing to receive a furtherreproof from the minister. Pausing at the door, Bernouin gave adiscreet tap, which was answered by Mazarin.
"M. de Lalande," announced the secretary, and at a sign from theCardinal withdrew.
Mazarin was writing, but, laying down his pen, he motioned me to a seatopposite him.
"You have breakfasted, have you not?" he asked.
"Yes, my Lord, thank you," I replied.
He smiled affably, and was plainly in good humour--the result perhapsof his morning's work. Suddenly this mood changed, the frown came backto his face, and he exclaimed sternly, "I had almost forgotten. Whywere you so long on your errand this morning?"
"That is what I wished to speak of, your Eminence, but I am confidentyou will agree that I acted rightly."
"I dislike putting the cart before the horse," said he; "the verdictshould follow the evidence. It will be better for you to relate thestory first."
Picking up his pen again, he sat twisting it between his fingers, butlooking me straight in the face, and listening intently to every word.He did not once attempt to interrupt, but preserved his patience untilthe end.
"Chut! my dear Martin," said he, when I had finished, just as if theastrologer were present; "we were mistaken. This young provincial haseyes in his head after all. M. de Lalande, not a word, not a syllableof this to any one. Should you babble, the Bastille is not so full butthat it can accommodate another tenant. Now, let us go through thestory again. As you rightly observe, it is most interesting, quitelike a romance. These men were in the house; of that you are sure?"
I bowed.
"Very good. And our friend Martin denied having seen them?"
"He declared I was his first visitor this morning."
"You did not press the point?"
"Not at all, my Lord. I considered it better to admit my mistake, andto allow the subject to drop."
"In that you did well. You are really learning fast, and I shall findyou of service yet. Now let us proceed. You saw the two men again,but they did not come out of Martin's house. Are you certain aboutthat?"
"I did not once remove my eyes from the door, and it was closed thewhole time."
"Then you cannot account for the reappearance of these visitors?"
I shook my head.
"If my explanation is correct, it throws a light on several queerthings," said Mazarin smiling. "However, that part of the business canstand over, I am not in a hurry at present. Now as to these cloakedgentlemen! Did you recognise them?"
"Only my cousin Henri."
"Ah, he is a clever fellow, a trifle too clever perhaps. Now describehis companion to me again."
"A little man, your Eminence, dark and ugly. An ill-made, awkward,bow-legged fellow, looking the more ungainly because of his handsomeapparel."
"The description is not a flattering one!" laughed the Cardinal. "Thisugly little man of yours is no less a person than Jean Paul de Gondi,Abbe de Retz, Coadjutor of Paris, Archbishop of Corinth, a futureCardinal--so it is rumoured--and the man who is to fill Mazarin'soffice when that unworthy minister has lost his head."
Dipping his pen in the ink, he wrote an order and handed it to me.
"For M. Belloc," he said. "In a few hours we shall discover what yourinformation is worth, but, whatever the result, you have done your partwell."
Rising from the chair, I bowed and left the room, rather puffed up bythe Cardinal's praise; but disappointed at not having learned thenature of the secret which I had unearthed.
Was it possible that Martin had been playing a double game? Itappeared very much like it, and, according to all accounts, De Retzpaid his servants in good money, while those who served the Cardinalwere generally rewarded by empty promises.
Finding Belloc, I handed him the paper, at which he glanced quickly,and exclaimed, "More work, my boy, and to be done at once. TheCardinal's orders are all marked 'Immediate,'" and he went off with agood-humoured laugh.
As there was nothing more to detain me at the Palace I returned to myrooms in the Rue des Catonnes, and, having made myself ready, sat downby the casement to watch for Raoul. The street was very still andpeaceful that evening, and, while waiting for my friend, my thoughtsroamed over the incidents of the day. As to my own discovery, it didnot engage my attention long. I had done my duty in warning Mazarin,and for the rest he must look to himself.
One point, however, caused me a considerable amount of anxiety. TheCardinal had spoken of Madame Coutance, and in no pleasant way. I knewvery little of the lady, but, as I have said, it vexed me that herniece's safety should be to some extent in the hands of such ahare-brained conspirator.
"She will be doing an extra foolish thing some day," I said to myself,half asleep and half awake, "and the Cardinal will clap both her andMarie into the Bastille. I must warn Raoul; he may have some influenceover her."
"Over whom?" exclaimed a merry voice, and, opening my eyes, I beheldRaoul himself standing close to me.
"A good thing for you that the truce still holds," cried he gaily, "orI could easily have deprived Mazarin of a supporter."
He laughed again quite merrily, and I laughed too; the idea of Raoulraising a hand against me se
emed so ridiculous.
"Sit down a minute," I said, "while I explain. The affair is not asecret," and I repeated Mazarin't remarks to him.
"You are right, Albert," he exclaimed gravely; "this is a seriousmatter, but unfortunately I can do nothing. Madame Coutance grows morereckless every day, and at present is using all her influence to assistDe Retz. To-morrow perhaps she will join Conde's party, for any sideopposed to Mazarin is good enough for her."
"Does Marie side with her aunt?"
"She cannot help herself, though she has no liking for intrigue. Butcome, let us take a turn in the city; it will blow the cobwebs out ofour brains."
We had reached the Pont Neuf when a gaily dressed gallant, calling toRaoul, caused us to stop.
"Armand!" exclaimed my comrade in surprise. "I understood you had goneto the Louvre!"
"Are you not ashamed to be caught plotting with a _Mazarin_?"
"Ah! I forgot that you knew M. de Lalande!"
"Oh, yes," said I, "this gentleman and I are warm friends. He shows meto my inn, comes to my rooms, and invites me to go with him on hisparties of pleasure."
Laughing lightheartedly, young D'Arcy took my arm.
"You rascal!" he cried, "it is fortunate we are at peace, or I shouldhave to run you through for the honour of the Fronde. You made us thelaughing-stock of Paris."
I inquired if he had released the prisoner at the inn, on which he gaveus such a comical account of the dwarf's unhappy plight that we couldnot keep from laughing aloud.
"Who was he?" asked Raoul.
"Pillot the dwarf, the trusty henchman of De Retz."
"That is awkward for you," said Raoul turning to me. "Pillot is acunning rogue, and is now hand in glove with your cousin. Really,Albert, you must take care of yourself, you have raised up a host ofenemies already."
"And the Italian cannot save you!" remarked D'Arcy, with a superiorair; "his own downfall is at hand. Alas, my poor friend, I pity you."
We were still laughing at him when he suddenly exclaimed, "Ah, here isLautrec. Tell me, is he not a show picture? I feel almost tempted tochange sides, if only to deck myself out so gorgeously."
My Sword's My Fortune: A Story of Old France Page 6