CHAPTER II.
AT THE GREEN PILLAR.
Cocheforet lies in a billowy land of oak and beech and chestnut--aland of deep, leafy bottoms, and hills clothed with forest. Ridge andvalley, glen and knoll, the woodland, sparsely peopled and moresparsely tilled, stretches away to the great snow mountains that herelimit France. It swarms with game--with wolves and bears, deer andboars. To the end of his life I have heard that the great King lovedthis district, and would sigh, when years and State fell heavily onhim, for the beech-groves and box-covered hills of South Bearn. Fromthe terraced steps of Auch you can see the forest roll away in lightand shadow, vale and upland, to the base of the snow-peaks; and,though I come from Brittany and love the smell of the salt wind, Ihave seen few sights that outdo this.
It was the second week in October when I came to Cocheforet, and,dropping down from the last wooded brow, rode quietly into the placeat evening. I was alone, and had ridden all day in a glory of ruddybeech-leaves, through the silence of forest roads, across clear brooksand glades still green. I had seen more of the quiet and peace of thecountry than had been my share since boyhood, and I felt a littlemelancholy; it might be for that reason, or because I had no greattaste for the task before me--the task now so imminent. In good faith,it was not a gentleman's work, look at it how you might.
But beggars must not be choosers, and I knew that this feeling wouldpass away. At the inn, in the presence of others, under the spur ofnecessity, or in the excitement of the chase, were that once begun, Ishould lose the feeling. When a man is young, he seeks solitude: whenhe is middle-aged he flies it and his thoughts. I made without ado forthe Green Pillar, a little inn in the village street, to which I hadbeen directed at Auch, and, thundering on the door with the knob of myriding-switch, railed at the man for keeping me waiting.
Here and there at hovel doors in the street--which was a mean, poorplace, not worthy of the name--men and women looked out at mesuspiciously. But I affected to ignore them; and at last the hostcame. He was a fair-haired man, half Basque, half Frenchman, and hadscanned me well, I was sure, through some window or peephole; for,when he came out, he betrayed no surprise at the sight of awell-dressed stranger--a portent in that out-of-the-way village--buteyed me with a kind of sullen reserve.
"I can lie here to-night, I suppose?" I said, dropping the reins onthe sorrel's neck. The horse hung its head.
"I don't know," he answered stupidly.
I pointed to the green bough which topped a post that stood oppositethe door.
"This is an inn, is it not?" I said.
"Yes," he answered slowly; "it is an inn. But--"
"But you are full, or you are out of food, or your wife is ill, orsomething else is amiss," I answered peevishly. "All the same, I amgoing to lie here. So you must make the best of it, and your wife,too--if you have one."
He scratched his head, looking at me with an ugly glitter in his eyes.But he said nothing, and I dismounted.
"Where can I stable my horse?" I asked.
"I'll put it up," he answered sullenly, stepping forward and takingthe reins in his hands.
"Very well," I said; "but I go with you. A merciful man is merciful tohis beast, and where-ever I go I see my horse fed."
"It will be fed," he said shortly. And then he waited for me to gointo the house. "The wife is in there," he continued, looking at mestubbornly.
"_Imprimis_--if you understand Latin, my friend," I answered, "thehorse in the stall."
As if he saw it was no good, he turned the sorrel slowly round, andbegan to lead it across the village street. There was a shed behindthe inn, which I had already marked and taken for the stable, and Iwas surprised when I found he was not going there. But I made noremark, and in a few minutes saw the horse well stabled in a hovelwhich seemed to belong to a neighbour.
This done, the man led the way back to the inn, carrying my valise.
"You have no other guests?" I said, with a casual air. I knew he waswatching me closely.
"No," he answered.
"This is not much in the way to anywhere, I suppose?"
"No."
That was evident; a more retired place I never saw. The hanging woods,rising steeply to a great height, so shut the valley in that I waspuzzled to think how a man could leave it save by the road I had come.The cottages, which were no more than mean, small huts, ran in astraggling double line, with many gaps--through fallen trees andill-cleared meadows. Among them a noisy brook ran in and out. And theinhabitants--charcoal-burners, or swineherds, or poor people of thelike class, were no better than their dwellings. I looked in vain forthe Chateau. It was not to be seen, and I dared not ask for it.
The man led me into the common room of the tavern--a low-roofed, poorplace, lacking a chimney or glazed windows, and grimy with smoke anduse. The fire--a great half-burned tree--smouldered on a stone hearth,raised a foot from the floor. A huge black pot simmered over it, andbeside one window lounged a country fellow talking with the goodwife.In the dusk I could not see his face, but I gave the woman a word, andsat down to wait for my supper.
She seemed more silent than the common run of women; but this might bebecause her husband was present. While she moved about, getting mymeal, he took his place against the doorpost and fell to staring at meso persistently that I felt by no means at my ease. He was a tall,strong fellow, with a rough moustache and brown beard, cut in the modeHenri Quatre; and on the subject of that king--a safe one, I knew,with a Bearnais--and on that alone, I found it possible to make himtalk. Even then there was a suspicious gleam in his eyes that bade meabstain from questions; and as the darkness deepened behind him, andthe firelight played more and more strongly on his features, and Ithought of the leagues of woodland that lay between this remote valleyand Auch. I recalled the Cardinal's warning that if I failed in myattempt I should be little likely to trouble Paris again.
The lout by the window paid no attention to me; nor I to him, when Ihad once satisfied myself that he was really what he seemed to be. Butby and by two or three men--rough, uncouth fellows--dropped in toreinforce the landlord, and they, too, seemed to have no otherbusiness than to sit in silence looking at me, or now and again toexchange a word in a _patois_ of their own. By the time my supper wasready, the knaves numbered six in all; and, as they were armed to aman with huge Spanish knives, and evidently resented my presence intheir dull rustic fashion--every rustic is suspicious--I began tothink that, unwittingly, I had put my head into a wasp's nest.
Nevertheless, I ate and drank with apparent appetite; but little thatpassed within the circle of light cast by the smoky lamp escaped me. Iwatched the men's looks and gestures at least as sharply as theywatched mine; and all the time I was racking my wits for some mode ofdisarming their suspicions--or failing that, of learning somethingmore of the position, which, it was clear, far exceeded in difficultyand danger anything I had expected. The whole valley, it would seem,was on the lookout to protect my man!
I had purposely brought with me from Auch a couple of bottles ofchoice Armagnac; and these had been carried into the house with mysaddlebags. I took one out now and opened it, and carelessly offered adram of the spirit to the landlord. He took it. As he drank it, I sawhis face flush; he handed back the cup reluctantly, and on that hint Ioffered him another. The strong spirit was already beginning to work.He accepted, and in a few minutes began to talk more freely and withless of the constraint which had marked us. Still, his tongue ranchiefly on questions--he would know this, he would learn that; buteven this was a welcome change. I told him openly whence I had come,by what road, how long I had stayed in Auch, and where; and so far Isatisfied his curiosity. Only when I came to the subject of my visitto Cocheforet I kept a mysterious silence, hinting darkly at businessin Spain and friends across the border, and this and that, and givingthe peasants to understand, if they pleased, that I was in the sameinterest as their exiled master.
They took the bait, winked at one another,
and began to look at me ina more friendly way--the landlord foremost. But when I had led them sofar, I dared go no farther, lest I should commit myself and be foundout. I stopped, therefore, and, harking back to general subjects,chanced to compare my province with theirs. The landlord, now becomealmost talkative, was not slow to take up this challenge; and itpresently led to my acquiring a curious piece of knowledge. He wasboasting of his great snow mountains, the forests that propped them,the bears that roamed in them, the izards that loved the ice, and theboars that fed on the oak mast.
"Well," I said, quite by chance, "we have not these things, it istrue. But we have things in the north you have not. We have tens ofthousands of good horses--not such ponies as you breed here. At thehorse fair at Fecamp my sorrel would be lost in the crowd. Here in thesouth you will not meet his match in a long day's journey."
"Do not make too sure of that!" the man replied, his eyes bright withtriumph and the dram. "What would you say if I showed you a better--inmy own stable?"
I saw that his words sent a kind of thrill through his other hearers,and that such of them as understood--for two or three of them talkedtheir _patois_ only--looked at him angrily; and in a twinkling I beganto comprehend. But I affected dulness, and laughed scornfully.
"Seeing is believing," I said. "I doubt if you know a good horse herewhen you see one, my friend."
"Oh, don't I?" he said, winking. "Indeed!"
"I doubt it," I answered stubbornly.
"Then come with me, and I will show you one," he retorted, discretiongiving way to vainglory. His wife and the others, I saw, looked at himdumbfounded; but, without paying any heed to them, he took up alanthorn, and, assuming an air of peculiar wisdom, opened the door."Come with me," he continued. "I don't know a good horse when I seeone, don't I? I know a better than yours, at any rate!"
I should not have been surprised if the other men had interfered;but--I suppose he was a leader among them, and they did not, and in amoment we were outside. Three paces through the darkness took us tothe stable, an offset at the back of the inn. My man twirled the pin,and, leading the way in, raised his lanthorn. A horse whinnied softly,and turned its bright, soft eyes on us--a baldfaced chestnut, withwhite hairs in its tail and one white stocking.
"There!" my guide exclaimed, waving the lanthorn to and froboastfully, that I might see its points. "What do you say to that? Isthat an undersized pony?"
"No," I answered, purposely stinting my praise. "It is prettyfair--for this country."
"Or any country," he answered wrathfully. "Any country, I say--I don'tcare where it is! And I have reason to know! Why, man, that horseis-- But there, that is a good horse, if ever you saw one!" And withthat he ended abruptly and lamely, lowering the lanthorn with a suddengesture, and turning to the door. He was on the instant in such hurry,that he almost shouldered me out.
But I understood. I knew that he had nearly betrayed all--that he hadbeen on the point of blurting out that that was M. de Cocheforet'shorse! M. de Cocheforet's, _comprenez bien!_ And while I turned awaymy face in the darkness, that he might not see me smile, I was notsurprised to find the man in a moment changed, and become, in theclosing of the door, as sober and suspicious as before, ashamed ofhimself and enraged with me, and in a mood to cut my throat for atrifle.
It was not my cue to quarrel, however--anything but that. I made,therefore, as if I had seen nothing, and when we were back in the innpraised the horse grudgingly, and like a man but half convinced. Theugly looks and ugly weapons I saw around me were fine incentives tocaution; and no Italian, I flatter myself, could have played his partmore nicely than I did. But I was heartily glad when it was over,and I found myself, at last, left alone for the night in a littlegarret--a mere fowl-house--upstairs, formed by the roof and gablewalls, and hung with strings of apples and chestnuts. It was a poorsleeping-place--rough, chilly, and unclean. I ascended to it by aladder; my cloak and a little fern formed my only bed. But I was gladto accept it. It enabled me to be alone and to think out the positionunwatched.
Of course M. de Cocheforet was at the Chateau. He had left his horsehere, and gone up on foot: probably that was his usual plan. He wastherefore within my reach, in one sense--I could not have come at abetter time--but in another he was as much beyond it as if I werestill in Paris. So far was I from being able to seize him that I darednot ask a question or let fall a rash word, or even look about mefreely. I saw I dared not. The slightest hint of my mission, thefaintest breath of distrust, would lead to throat-cutting--and thethroat would be mine; while the longer I lay in the village, thegreater suspicion I should incur, and the closer would be the watchkept over me.
In such a position some men might have given up the attempt and savedthemselves across the border. But I have always valued myself on myfidelity, and I did not shrink. If not to-day, to-morrow; if not thistime, next time. The dice do not always turn up aces. Bracing myself,therefore, to the occasion, I crept, as soon as the house was quiet,to the window, a small, square, open lattice, much cobwebbed, andpartly stuffed with hay. I looked out. The village seemed to beasleep. The dark branches of trees hung a few feet away, and almostobscured a grey, cloudy sky, through which a wet moon sailed drearily.Looking downwards, I could at first see nothing; but as my eyes grewused to the darkness--I had only just put out my rushlight--I made outthe stable-door and the shadowy outlines of the lean-to roof.
I had hoped for this. I could now keep watch, and learn at leastwhether Cocheforet left before morning. If he did not I should know hewas still here. If he did, I should be the better for seeing hisfeatures, and learning, perhaps, other things that might be of use.
Making up my mind to be uncomfortable, I sat down on the floor by thelattice, and began a vigil that might last, I knew, until morning. Itdid last about an hour. At the end of that time I heard whisperingbelow, then footsteps; then, as some persons turned a corner, a voicespeaking aloud and carelessly. I could not catch the words spoken; butthe voice was a gentleman's, and its bold accents and masterful toneleft me in no doubt that the speaker was M. de Cocheforet himself.Hoping to learn more, I pressed my face nearer to the opening, and Ihad just made out through the gloom two figures--one that of a tall,slight man, wearing a cloak, the other, I thought, a woman's, in asheeny white dress--when a thundering rap on the door of my garretmade me spring back a yard from the lattice, and lie down hurriedly onmy couch. The noise was repeated.
"Well?" I cried, cursing the untimely interruption. I was burning withanxiety to see more. "What is it? What is the matter?"
The trapdoor was lifted a foot or more. The landlord thrust up hishead.
"You called, did you not?" he asked. He held up a rushlight, whichillumined half the room and lit up his grinning face.
"Called--at this hour of the night, you fool?" I answered angrily."No! I did not call. Go to bed, man!"
But he remained on the ladder, gaping stupidly.
"I heard you," he said.
"Go to bed! You are drunk!" I answered, sitting up. "I tell you I didnot call."
"Oh, very well," he answered slowly. "And you do not want anything?"
"Nothing--except to be left alone!" I replied sourly.
"Umph!" he said. "Good-night!"
"Good-night! Good-night!" I answered, with what patience I might. Thetramp of the horse's hoofs as it was led out of the stable was in myear at the moment. "Good-night!" I continued feverishly, hoping hewould still retire in time, and I have a chance to look out. "I wantto sleep."
"Good," he said, with a broad grin. "But it is early yet, and you haveplenty of time." And then, at last, he slowly let down the trapdoor,and I heard him chuckle as he went down the ladder.
Before he reached the bottom I was at the window. The woman whom I hadseen still stood below, in the same place; and beside her a man in apeasant's dress, holding a lanthorn, But the man, the man I wanted tosee was no longer there. And it was evident that he was gone; it wasevident that the others no longer feared me, for while I gazed thelandlord cam
e out to them with another lanthorn, and said something tothe lady, and she looked up at my window and laughed.
It was a warm night, and she wore nothing over her white dress. Icould see her tall, shapely figure and shining eyes, and the firmcontour of her beautiful face; which, if any fault might be found withit, erred in being too regular. She looked like a woman formed bynature to meet dangers and difficulties; and even here, at midnight,in the midst of these desperate men, she seemed in place. It waspossible that under her queenly exterior, and behind the contemptuouslaugh with which she heard the land lord's story, there lurked awoman's soul capable of folly and tenderness. But no outward signbetrayed its presence.
I scanned her very carefully; and secretly, if the truth be told, Iwas glad to find Madame de Cocheforet such a woman. I was glad thatshe had laughed as she had--that she was not a little, tender,child-like woman, to be crushed by the first pinch of trouble. For ifI succeeded in my task, if I--but, pish! Women, I said, were allalike. She would find consolation quickly enough.
I watched until the group broke up, and Madame, with one of the men,went her way round the corner of the inn, and out of my sight. Then Iretired to bed again, feeling more than ever perplexed what course Ishould adopt. It was clear that, to succeed, I must obtain admissionto the house. This was garrisoned, unless my instructions erred, bytwo or three old men-servants only, and as many women; since Madame,to disguise her husband's visits the more easily, lived, and gave outthat she lived, in great retirement. To seize her husband at home,therefore, might be no impossible task; though here, in the heart ofthe village, a troop of horse might make the attempt, and fail.
But how was I to gain admission to the house--a house guarded byquick-witted women, and hedged in with all the precautions love coulddevise? That was the question; and dawn found me still debating it,still as far as ever from an answer. With the first light I was gladto get up. I thought that the fresh air might inspire me, and I wastired, besides, of my stuffy closet. I crept stealthily down theladder, and managed to pass unseen through the lower room, in whichseveral persons were snoring heavily. The outer door was not fastened,and in a hand-turn I stood in the street.
It was still so early that the trees stood up black against thereddening sky, but the bough upon the post before the door was growinggreen, and in a few minutes the grey light would be everywhere.Already even in the road way there was a glimmering of it; and asI stood at the corner of the house--where I could command both thefront and the side on which the stable opened--looking greedily forany trace of the midnight departure, my eyes detected somethinglight-coloured lying on the ground. It was not more than two orthree paces from me, and I stepped to it and picked it up curiously,hoping it might be a note. It was not a note, however, but a tinyorange-coloured sachet, such as women carry in the bosom. It was fullof some faintly scented powder, and bore on one side the initial "E,"worked in white silk; and was altogether a dainty little toy, such aswomen love.
Doubtless Madame de Cocheforet had dropped it in the night. I turnedit over and over; and then I put it away with a smile, thinking itmight be useful some time, and in some way. I had scarcely done this,and turned with the intention of exploring the street, when the doorbehind me creaked on its leather hinges, and in a moment my host stoodat my elbow.
Evidently his suspicions were again aroused, for from that time hemanaged to be with me, on one pretence or another, until noon.Moreover, his manner grew each moment more churlish, his hintsplainer; until I could scarcely avoid noticing the one or the other.About midday, having followed me for the twentieth time into thestreet, he came at last to the point, by asking me rudely if I did notneed my horse.
"No," I said. "Why do you ask?"
"Because," he answered, with an ugly smile, "this is not a veryhealthy place for strangers."
"Ah!" I retorted. "But the border air suits me, you see."
It was a lucky answer; for, taken with my talk of the night before, itpuzzled him, by again suggesting that I was on the losing side, andhad my reasons for lying near Spain. Before he had done scratching hishead over it, the clatter of hoofs broke the sleepy quiet of thevillage street, and the lady I had seen the night before rode quicklyround the corner, and drew her horse on to its haunches. Withoutlooking at me, she called to the innkeeper to come to her stirrup.
He went. The moment his back was turned, I slipped away, and in atwinkling was hidden by a house. Two or three glum-looking fellowsstared at me as I passed, but no one moved; and in two minutes I wasclear of the village, and in a half-worn track which ran through thewood, and led--if my ideas were right--to the Chateau. To discover thehouse and learn all that was to be learned about its situation was mymost pressing need: even at the risk of a knife-thrust, I wasdetermined to satisfy it.
I had not gone two hundred paces along the path before I heard thetread of a horse behind me, and I had just time to hide myself beforeMadame came up and rode by me, sitting her horse gracefully, and withall the courage of a northern woman. I watched her pass, and then,assured by her presence that I was in the right road, I hurried afterher. Two minutes' walking at speed brought me to a light wooden bridgespanning a stream. I crossed this, and, the wood opening, saw beforeme first a wide, pleasant meadow, and beyond this a terrace. On theterrace, pressed upon on three sides by thick woods, stood a greymansion, with the corner tourelles, steep, high roofs, and roundbalconies that men loved and built in the days of the first Francis.
It was of good size, but wore, I fancied, a gloomy aspect. A great yewhedge, which seemed to enclose a walk or bowling-green, hid the groundfloor of the east wing from view, while a formal rose garden, stiffeven in neglect, lay in front of the main building. The west wing,whose lower roofs fell gradually away to the woods, probably containedthe stables and granaries.
I stood a moment only, but I marked all, and noted how the roadreached the house, and which windows were open to attack; then Iturned and hastened back. Fortunately, I met no one between the houseand the village, and was able to enter the inn with an air of the mostcomplete innocence.
Short as had been my absence, I found things altered there. Round thedoor loitered and chattered three strangers--stout, well-armedfellows, whose bearing suggested a curious mixture of smugness andindependence. Half-a-dozen pack-horses stood tethered to the post infront of the house; and the landlord's manner, from being rude andchurlish only, had grown perplexed and almost timid. One of thestrangers, I soon found, supplied him with wine; the others weretravelling merchants, who rode in the first one's company for the sakeof safety. All were substantial men from Tarbes--solid burgesses; andI was not long in guessing that my host, fearing what might leak outbefore them, and particularly that I might refer to the previousnight's disturbance, was on tenterhooks while they remained.
For a time this did not suggest anything to me. But when we had alltaken our seats for supper there came an addition to the party. Thedoor opened, and the fellow whom I had seen the night before withMadame de Cocheforet entered, and took a stool by the fire. I feltsure that he was one of the servants at the Chateau; and in a flashhis presence inspired me with the most feasible plan for obtainingadmission which I had yet hit upon. I felt myself growing hot at thethought--it seemed so full of promise and of danger--and on theinstant, without giving myself time to think too much, I began tocarry it into effect.
I called for two or three bottles of better wine, and, assuming ajovial air, passed it round the table. When we had drunk a fewglasses, I fell to talking, and, choosing politics, took the side ofthe Languedoc party and the malcontents, in so reckless a fashion thatthe innkeeper was beside himself at my imprudence. The merchants, whobelonged to the class with whom the Cardinal was always most popular,looked first astonished and then enraged. But I was not to be checked.Hints and sour looks were lost upon me. I grew more outspoken withevery glass, I drank to the Rochellois, I swore it would not be longbefore they raised their heads again; and at last, while the innkeeperand his wife were engaged lighting
the lamp, I passed round the bottleand called on all for a toast.
"I'll give you one to begin," I bragged noisily. "A gentleman's toast!A southern toast! Here is confusion to the Cardinal, and a health toall who hate him!"
"Mon Dieu!" one of the strangers cried, springing from his seat in arage. "I am not going to stomach that! Is your house a commontreason-hole," he continued, turning furiously on the landlord, "thatyou suffer this?"
"Hoity-toity!" I answered, coolly keeping my seat. "What is all this?Don't you relish my toast, little man?"
"No--nor you!" he retorted hotly, "whoever you may be!"
"Then I will give you another," I answered, with a hiccough. "Perhapsit will be more to your taste. Here is the Duke of Orleans, and may hesoon be King!"
Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Page 2