Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France

by Stanley John Weyman

  CHAPTER V.

  REVENGE.

  And full of black rage! Had she only reproached me, or, turning on mein the hour of _my_ victory, said all she had now said in the momentof her own, I could have borne it. She might have shamed me then, andI might have taken the shame to myself, and forgiven her. But, as itwas, I stood there in the gathering dusk, between the darkeninghedges, baffled, tricked, defeated! And by a woman! She had pitted herwits against mine, her woman's will against my experience, and she hadcome off the victor. And then she had reviled me. As I took it all in,and began to comprehend, also, the more remote results, and howcompletely her move had made further progress on my part impossible,I hated her. She had tricked me with her gracious ways and herslow-coming smile. And, after all--for what she had said--it was thisman's life or mine. What had I done that another man would not do?_Mon Dieu!_ In the future there was nothing I would not do. I wouldmake her smart for those words of hers! I would bring her to herknees!

  Still, hot as I was, an hour might have restored me to coolness. Butwhen I started to return, I fell into a fresh rage, for I rememberedthat I did not know my way out of the maze of rides and paths intowhich she had drawn me; and this and the mishaps which followed keptmy rage hot. For a full hour I wandered in the wood, unable, though Iknew where the village lay, to find any track which led continuouslyin one direction. Whenever, at the end of each attempt, the thicketbrought me up short, I fancied I heard her laughing on the fartherside of the brake; and the ignominy of this chance punishment, thecheck which the confinement placed on my rage, almost maddened me. Inthe darkness, I fell, and rose cursing; I tore my hands with thorns; Istained my suit, which had suffered sadly once before. At length, whenI had almost resigned myself to lie in the wood, I caught sight of thelights of the village, and trembling between haste and anger, pressedtowards them. In a few minutes I stood in the little street.

  The lights of the inn shone only fifty yards away; but before I couldshow myself even there pride suggested that I should do something torepair my clothes. I stopped, and scraped and brushed them; and, atthe same time, did what I could to compose my features. Then Iadvanced to the door and knocked. Almost on the instant the landlord'svoice cried from the inside, "Enter, Monsieur!"

  I raised the latch and went in. The man was alone, squatting over thefire, warming his hands A black pot simmered on the ashes: as Ientered, he raised the lid and peeped inside. Then he glanced over hisshoulder.

  "You expected me?" I said defiantly, walking to the hearth, andsetting one of my damp boots on the logs.

  "Yes," he answered, nodding curtly. "Your supper is just ready. Ithought you would be in about this time."

  He grinned as he spoke, and it was with difficulty I suppressed mywrath "Mademoiselle de Cocheforet told you," I said, affectingindifference, "where I was?"

  "Ay, Mademoiselle--or Madame," he replied, grinning afresh.

  So she had told him where she had left me, and how she had tricked me!She had made me the village laughing-stock! My rage flashed out afreshat the thought, and, at the sight of his mocking face, I raised myfist.

  But he read the threat in my eyes, and was up in a moment, snarling,with his hand on his knife. "Not again, Monsieur!" he cried, in hisvile _patois_, "My head is sore still. Raise your hand, and I will ripyou up as I would a pig!"

  "Sit down, fool," I said. "I am not going to harm you. Where is yourwife?"

  "About her business."

  "Which should be getting my supper," I retorted sharply.

  He rose sullenly, and, fetching a platter, poured the mess of brothand vegetables into it. Then he went to a cupboard and brought out aloaf of black bread and a measure of wine, and set them also on thetable. "You see it," he said laconically.

  "And a poor welcome!" I exclaimed.

  He flamed into sudden passion at that. Leaning with both his hands onthe table, he thrust his rugged face and blood-shot eyes close tomine. His mustachios bristled; his beard trembled. "Hark ye, Sirrah!"he muttered, with sullen emphasis--"be content! I have my suspicions.And if it were not for my lady's orders I would put a knife into you,fair or foul, this very night. You would lie snug outside, instead ofinside, and I do not think any one would be the worse. But, as it is,be content. Keep a still tongue; and when you turn your back onCocheforet to-morrow keep it turned."

  "Tut! tut!" I said--but I confess I was a little out of countenance."Threatened men live long, you rascal!"

  "In Paris!" he answered significantly. "Not here, Monsieur."

  He straightened himself with that, nodded once, and went back to thefire, and I shrugged my shoulders and began to eat, affecting toforget his presence. The logs on the hearth burned sullenly, and gaveno light. The poor oil-lump, casting weird shadows from wall to wall,served only to discover the darkness. The room, with its low roof andearthen floor, and foul clothes flung here and there, reeked of stalemeals and garlic and vile cooking. I thought of the parlour atCocheforet, and the dainty table, and the stillness, and the scentedpot-herbs; and, though I was too old a soldier to eat the worsebecause my spoon lacked washing, I felt the change, and laid itsavagely at Mademoiselle's door.

  The landlord, watching me stealthily from his place by the hearth,read my thoughts, and chuckled aloud. "Palace fare, palace manners!"he muttered scornfully. "Set a beggar on horseback, and he willride--back to the inn!"

  "Keep a civil tongue, will you!" I answered, scowling at him.

  "Have you finished?" he retorted.

  I rose, without deigning to reply, and, going to the fire, drew off myboots, which were wet through. He, on the instant, swept off the wineand loaf to the cupboard, and then, coming back for the platter I hadused, took it, opened the back door, and went out, leaving the doorajar. The draught which came in beat the flame of the lamp this wayand that, and gave the dingy, gloomy room an air still more miserable.I rose angrily from the fire, and went to the door, intending to closeit with a bang.

  But when I reached it, I saw something, between door and jamb, whichstayed my hand. The door led to a shed in which the housewife washedpots and the like. I felt some surprise, therefore, when I found alight there at this time of night; still more surprise when I saw whatshe was doing.

  She was seated on the mud floor, with a rushlight before her, and oneither side of her a high-piled heap of refuse and rubbish. From oneof these, at the moment I caught sight of her, she was sortingthings--horrible, filthy sweepings of road or floor--to the other;shaking and sifting each article as she passed it across, and thentaking up another and repeating the action with it, and so on: allminutely, warily, with an air of so much patience and persistence thatI stood wondering. Some things--rags--she held up between her eyes andthe light, some she passed through her fingers, some she fairly torein pieces. And all the time her husband stood watching her greedily,my platter still in his hand, as if her strange occupation fascinatedhim.

  I stood looking, also, for half a minute, perhaps; then the man's eye,raised for a single second to the doorway, met mine. He started,muttered something to his wife, and, quick as thought, kicked thelight out, leaving the shed in darkness. Cursing him for anill-conditioned fellow, I walked back to the fire, laughing. In atwinkling he followed me, his face dark with rage.

  "_Ventre saint gris!_" he exclaimed, thrusting it close to mine. "Isnot a man's house his own?"

  "It is, for me," I answered coolly, shrugging my shoulders. "And hiswife: if she likes to pick dirty rags at this hour, that is youraffair."

  "Pig of a spy!" he cried, foaming with rage.

  I was angry enough at bottom, but I had nothing to gain by quarrellingwith the fellow; and I curtly bade him remember himself. "Yourmistress gave you your orders," I said contemptuously. "Obey them!"

  He spat on the floor, but at the same time he grew calmer. "You areright there," he answered spitefully. "What matter, after all, sinceyou leave to-morrow at six? Your horse has been sent down, and yourbaggage is
above."

  "I will go to it," I retorted. "I want none of your company. Give me alight, fellow!"

  He obeyed reluctantly, and, glad to turn my back on him, I went up theladder, still wondering faintly, in the midst of my annoyance, whathis wife was about that my chance detection of her had so enraged him.Even now he was not quite himself. He followed me with abuse, and,deprived by my departure of any other means of showing his spite, fellto shouting through the floor, bidding me remember six o'clock, and bestirring; with other taunts, which did not cease until he had tiredhimself out.

  The sight of my belongings--which I had left a few hours before at theChateau--strewn about the floor of this garret, went some way towardsfiring me again. But I was worn out. The indignities and mishaps ofthe evening had, for once, crushed my spirit, and after swearing anoath or two I began to pack my bags. Vengeance I would have; but thetime and manner I left for daylight thought. Beyond six o'clock in themorning I did not look forward; and if I longed for anything it wasfor a little of the good Armagnac I had wasted on those louts ofmerchants in the kitchen below. It might have done me good now.

  I had wearily strapped up one bag, and nearly filled the other, when Icame upon something which did, for the moment, rouse the devil in me.This was the tiny orange-coloured sachet which Mademoiselle haddropped the night I first saw her at the inn, and which, it will beremembered, I picked up. Since that night I had not seen it, and hadas good as forgotten it. Now, as I folded up my other doublet, the oneI had then been wearing, it dropped from the pocket.

  The sight of it recalled all--that night, and Mademoiselle's face inthe lanthorn light, and my fine plans, and the end of them; and, in afit of childish fury, the outcome of long suppressed passion, Isnatched up the sachet from the floor and tore it across and across,and flung the pieces down. As they fell, a cloud of fine pungent dustburst from them, and with the dust something heavier, which tinkledsharply on the boards. I looked down to see what this was--perhaps Ialready repented of my act--but for the moment I could see nothing.The floor was grimy and uninviting, and the light bad.

  In certain moods, however, a man is obstinate about small things, andI moved the taper nearer. As I did so, a point of light, a flashingsparkle that shone for a second among the dirt and refuse on thefloor, caught my eye. It was gone in a moment, but I had seen it. Istared, and moved the light again, and the spark flashed out afresh,this time in a different place. Much puzzled, I knelt, and, in atwinkling, found a tiny crystal. Hard by lay another--and another;each as large as a fair-sized pea. I took up the three, and rose to myfeet again, the light in one hand, the crystals in the palm of theother.

  They were diamonds!--diamonds of price! I knew it in a moment. As Imoved the taper to and fro above them, and watched the fire glow andtremble in their depths, I knew that I held that which would buy thecrazy inn and all its contents a dozen times over. They were diamonds!Gems so fine, and of so rare a water--or I had never seen gems--thatmy hand trembled as I held them, and my head grew hot, and my heartbeat furiously. For a moment I thought I dreamed, that my fancy playedme some trick; and I closed my eyes and did not open them again for aminute. But when I did, there they were, hard, real, and angular.Convinced at last, in a maze of joy and fear, I closed my hand uponthem, and, stealing on tip-toe to the trapdoor, laid first my saddleon it, and then my bags, and over all my cloak, breathing fast thewhile.

  Then I stole back; and, taking up the light again, began to search thefloor, patiently, inch by inch, with naked feet, every sound making metremble as I crept hither and thither over the creaking boards. Andnever was search more successful or better paid. In the fragments ofthe sachet I found six smaller diamonds and a pair of rubies. Eightlarge diamonds I found on the floor. One, the largest and last-found,had bounded away, and lay against the wall in the farthest corner. Ittook me an hour to run that one to earth; but afterwards I spentanother hour on my hands and knees before I gave up the search, and,satisfied at last that I had collected all, sat down on my saddle onthe trap-door, and, by the last flickering light of a candle which Ihad taken from my bag, gloated over my treasure--a treasure worthy offabled Golconda.

  Hardly could I believe in its reality, even now. Recalling the jewelswhich the English Duke of Buckingham wore on the occasion of his visitto Paris in 1625, and of which there was so much talk, I took these tobe as fine, though less in number. They should be worth fifteenthousand crowns, more or less. Fifteen thousand crowns! And I heldthem in the hollow of my hand--I who was scarcely worth ten thousandsous.

  The candle going out cut short my admiration. Left in the dark withthese precious atoms, my first thought was how I might dispose of themsafely; which I did, for the time, by secreting them in the lining ofmy boot. My second thought turned on the question how they had comewhere I had found them, among the powdered spice and perfumes inMademoiselle de Cocheforet's sachet.

  A minute's reflection enabled me to come very near the secret, and atthe same time shed a flood of light on several dark places. What Clonhad been seeking on the path between the house and the village, whatthe goodwife of the inn had sought among the sweepings of yard andfloor, I knew now,--the sachet. I knew, too, what had caused themarked and sudden anxiety I had noticed at the Chateau--the loss ofthis sachet.

  And there for a while I came to a check. But one step more up theladder of thought brought all in view. In a flash I guessed how thejewels had come to be in the sachet; and that it was not Mademoisellebut M. de Cocheforet who had mislaid them. And I thought the discoveryso important that I began to pace the room softly, unable, in myexcitement, to remain still.

  Doubtless he had dropped the jewels in the hurry of his start from theinn that night! Doubtless, too, he had carried them in that bizarrehiding-place for the sake of safety, considering it unlikely thatrobbers, if he fell into their hands, would take the sachet from him;as still less likely that they would suspect it to contain anything ofvalue. Everywhere it would pass for a love-gift, the work of hismistress.

  Nor did my penetration stop there. Ten to one the gems were familyproperty, the last treasure of the house; and M. de Cocheforet, when Isaw him at the inn, was on his way to convey them out of the country;either to secure them from seizure by the Government, or to raisemoney by selling them--money to be spent in some last desperateenterprise. For a day or two, perhaps, after leaving Cocheforet, whilethe mountain road and its chances occupied his thoughts, he had notdiscovered his loss. Then he had searched for the precious sachet,missed it, and returned hot-foot on his tracks.

  I was certain that I had hit on the true solution; and all that nightI sat wakeful in the darkness, pondering what I should do. The stones,unset as they were, could never be identified, never be claimed. Thechannel by which they had come to my hands could never be traced. Toall intents they were mine--mine, to do with as I pleased! Fifteenthousand crowns!--perhaps twenty thousand crowns!--and I to leave atsix in the morning, whether I would or no! I might leave for Spainwith the jewels in my pocket.

  I confess I was tempted. The gems were so fine that I doubt not someindifferently honest men would have sold salvation for them. But aBerault his honour? No! I was tempted, but not for long. Thank God, aman may be reduced to living by the fortunes of the dice, and may evenbe called by a woman spy and coward without becoming a thief. Thetemptation soon left me--I take credit for it--and I fell to thinkingof this and that plan for making use of them. Once it occurred to meto take the jewels to the Cardinal and buy my pardon with them; again,to use them as a trap to capture Cocheforet; again to--and then aboutfive in the morning, as I sat up on my wretched pallet, while thefirst light stole slowly in through the cobwebbed, hay-stuffedlattice, there came to me the real plan, the plan of plans, on which Iacted.

  It charmed me. I smacked my lips over it, and hugged myself, and feltmy eyes dilate in the darkness, as I conned it. It seemed cruel, itseemed mean; I cared nothing. Mademoiselle had boasted of her victoryover me, of her woman's wits and her acuteness; and of my dulness. Shehad
said her grooms should flog me, she had rated me as if I had beena dog. Very well; we would see now whose brains were the better, whosewas the master mind, whose should be the whipping.

  The one thing required by my plan was that I should get speech withher; that done, I could trust myself, and my new-found weapon, for therest. But that was absolutely necessary; and seeing that there mightbe some difficulty about it, I determined to descend as if my mindwere made up to go; then, on pretence of saddling my horse, I wouldslip away on foot, and lie in wait near the Chateau until I saw hercome out. Or if I could not effect my purpose in that way--either byreason of the landlord's vigilance, or for any other cause--my coursewas still easy. I would ride away, and when I had proceeded a mile orso, tie up my horse in the forest and return to the wooden bridge.Thence I could watch the garden and front of the Chateau until timeand chance gave me the opportunity I sought.

  So I saw my way quite clearly; and when the fellow below called me,reminding me rudely that I must be going, and that it was six o'clock,I was ready with my answer. I shouted sulkily that I was coming, and,after a decent delay, I took up my saddle and bags and went down.

  Viewed by the cold morning light, the inn room looked more smoky, moregrimy, more wretched than when I had last seen it. The goodwife wasnot visible. The fire was not lighted. No provision, not so much as astirrup-cup or bowl of porridge cheered the heart. I looked round,sniffing the stale smell of last night's lamp, and grunted. "Are yougoing to send me out fasting?" I said, affecting a worse humour than Ifelt.

  The landlord was standing by the window, stooping over a great pair offrayed and furrowed thigh-boots, which he was labouring to soften withcopious grease. "Mademoiselle ordered no breakfast," he answered, witha malicious grin.

  "Well, it does not much matter," I replied grandly. "I shall be atAuch by noon."

  "That is as may be," he answered, with another grin. I did notunderstand him, but I had something else to think about, and I openedthe door and stepped out, intending to go to the stable. Then in asecond I comprehended. The cold air laden with woodland moisture metme and went to my bones; but it was not that which made me shiver.Outside the door, in the road, sitting on horseback in silence, weretwo men. One was Clon. The other, who held a spare horse by therein--my horse--was a man I had seen at the inn, a rough,shock-headed, hard-bitten fellow. Both were armed, and Clon wasbooted. His mate rode barefoot, with a rusty spur strapped to oneheel.

  The moment I saw them a sure and certain fear crept into my mind: itwas that made me shiver. But I did not speak to them. I went in again,and closed the door behind me. The landlord was putting on the boots."What does this mean?" I said hoarsely. I had a clear prescience ofwhat was coming. "Why are these men here?"

  "Orders," he answered laconically.

  "Whose orders?" I retorted.

  "Whose?" he answered bluntly. "Well, Monsieur, that is my business.Enough that we mean to see you out of the country, and out of harm'sway."

  "But if I will not go?" I cried.

  "Monsieur will go," he answered coolly. "There are no strangers in thevillage to-day," he added, with a significant smile.

  "Do you mean to kidnap me?" I replied, in a rage. Behind the ragewas something--I will not call it terror, for the brave feel noterror--but it was near akin to it. I had had to do with rough men allmy life, but there was a grimness and truculence in the aspect ofthese three that shook me. When I thought of the dark paths and narrowlanes and cliff-sides we must traverse, whichever road we took, Itrembled.

  "Kidnap you, Monsieur?" he answered, with an everyday air. "That is asyou please to call it. One thing is certain, however," he continued,maliciously touching an arquebuss which he had produced and setupright against a chair while I was at the door; "if you attempt theslightest resistance, we shall know how to put an end to it, eitherhere or on the road."

  I drew a deep breath. The very imminence of the danger restored me tothe use of my faculties I changed my tone and laughed aloud. "So thatis your plan, is it?" I said. "The sooner we start the better, then.And the sooner I see Auch and your back turned, the more I shall bepleased."

  He rose. "After you, Monsieur," he said.

  I could not restrain a slight shiver. His newborn politeness alarmedme more than his threats. I knew the man and his ways, and I was surethat it boded ill for me.

  But I had no pistols, and only my sword and knife, and I knew thatresistance at this point must be worse than vain. I went out jauntily,therefore, the landlord coming after me with my saddle and bags.

  The street was empty, save for the two waiting horsemen who sat intheir saddles looking doggedly before them. The sun had not yet risen,the air was raw. The sky was grey, cloudy, and cold. My thoughts flewback to the morning on which I had found the sachet--at that veryspot, almost at that very hour; and for a moment I grew warm again atthe thought of the little packet I carried in my boot. But thelandlord's dry manner, the sullen silence of his two companions, whoseeyes steadily refused to meet mine, chilled me again. For an instantthe impulse to refuse to mount, to refuse to go, was almostirresistible; then, knowing the madness of such a course, which might,and probably would, give the men the chance they desired, I crushed itdown and went slowly to my stirrup.

  "I wonder you do not want my sword," I said by way of sarcasm, as Iswung myself up.

  "We are not afraid of it," the innkeeper answered gravely. "You maykeep it--for the present."

  I made no answer--what answer had I to make?--and we rode at afoot-pace down the street; he and I leading, Clon and the shock-headedman bringing up the rear. The leisurely mode of our departure, theabsence of hurry or even haste, the men's indifference whether theywere seen, or what was thought, all served to sink my spirits, anddeepen my sense of peril. I felt that they suspected me, that theymore than half guessed the nature of my errand at Cocheforet, and thatthey were not minded to be bound by Mademoiselle's orders. Inparticular I augured the worst from Clon's appearance. His leanmalevolent face and sunken eyes, his very dumbness chilled me. Mercyhad no place there.

  We rode soberly, so that nearly half an hour elapsed before we gainedthe brow from which I had taken my first look at Cocheforet. Among thedwarf oaks whence I had viewed the valley we paused to breathe ourhorses, and the strange feelings with which I looked back on the scenemay be imagined. But I had short time for indulging in sentiment orrecollections. A curt word, and we were moving again.

  A quarter of a mile farther on the road to Auch dipped into thevalley. When we were already half-way down this descent the innkeepersuddenly stretched out his hand and caught my rein. "This way!" hesaid.

  I saw he would have me turn into a by-path leading south-westwards--amere track, faint and little trodden and encroached on by trees, whichled I knew not whither. I checked my horse. "Why?" I saidrebelliously. "Do you think I do not know the road? This is the way toAuch."

  "To Auch--yes," he answered bluntly. "But we are not going to Auch."

  "Whither then?" I said angrily.

  "You will see presently," he replied, with an ugly smile.

  "Yes, but I will know now!" I retorted, passion getting the better ofme. "I have come so far with you. You will find it more easy to takeme farther, if you tell me your plans."

  "You are a fool!" he cried, with a snarl.

  "Not so," I answered. "I ask only to know whither I am going."

  "Into Spain," he said. "Will that satisfy you?"

  "And what will you do with me there?" I asked, my heart giving a greatbound.

  "Hand you over to some friends of ours," he answered curtly, "if youbehave yourself. If not, there is a shorter way, and one that willsave us some travelling. Make up your mind. Monsieur. Which shall itbe?"