CHAPTER VII.
A MASTER STROKE.
I HAVE a way with me which commonly commands respect; and when thelandlord's first terror was over and he would serve me, I managed toget my supper--the first good meal I had had in two days--prettycomfortably in spite of the soldiers' presence. The crowd, too, whichfilled the room, soon began to melt. The men strayed off in groups towater their horses, or went to hunt up their quarters, until only twoor three were left. Dusk had fallen outside; the noise in the streetgrew less. The firelight began to glow and flicker on the walls,and the wretched room to look as homely as it was in its nature tolook. I was pondering for the twentieth time what step I should takenext--under these new circumstances--and why the soldiers were here,and whether I should let the night pass before I moved, when the door,which had been turning on its hinges almost without pause for an hour,opened again, and a woman came in.
She paused a moment on the threshold looking round, and I saw that shehad a shawl on her head and a milk-pitcher in her hand, and that herfeet and ankles were bare. There was a great rent in her coarse stuffpetticoat, and the hand which held the shawl together was brown anddirty. More I did not see; supposing her to be a neighbour stolen innow that the house was quiet to get some milk for her child or thelike, I took no further heed of her. I turned to the fire again andplunged into my thoughts.
But to get to the hearth where the goodwife was fidgeting, the womanhad to pass in front of me; and as she passed I suppose she stole alook at me from under her shawl. For just when she came between me andthe blaze she uttered a low cry and shrank aside--so quickly that shealmost stepped on the hearth. The next moment she turned her back tome and was stooping, whispering in the housewife's ear. A strangermight have thought that she had merely trodden on a hot ember.
But another idea, and a very sharp one, came into my mind; and I stoodup silently. The woman's back was towards me, but something in herheight, her shape, the pose of her head, hidden as it was by hershawl, seemed familiar. I waited while she hung over the firewhispering, and while the goodwife slowly filled her pitcher out ofthe great black pot. But when she turned to go, I took a step forwardso as to bar her way. And our eyes met.
I could not see her features; they were lost in the shadow of thehood. But I saw a shiver run through her from head to foot. And I knewthen that I had made no mistake.
"That is too heavy for you, my girl," I said familiarly, as I mighthave spoken to a village wench. "I will carry it for you."
One of the men, who remained lolling at the table, laughed, and theother began to sing a low song. The woman trembled in rage or fear,but she kept silence and let me take the jug from her hands. And whenI went to the door and opened it, she followed mechanically. Aninstant, and the door fell to behind us, shutting off the light andglow, and we two stood together in the growing dusk.
"It is late for you to be out, Mademoiselle," I said politely. "Youmight meet with some rudeness, dressed as you are. Permit me to seeyou home."
She shuddered, and I thought I heard her sob, but she did not answer.Instead, she turned and walked quickly through the village in thedirection of the Chateau, keeping in the shadow of the houses. Icarried the pitcher and walked beside her; and in the dark I smiled. Iknew how shame and impotent rage were working in her. This wassomething like revenge!
Presently I spoke. "Well, Mademoiselle," I said. "Where are yourgrooms?"
She gave me one look, her eyes blazing with anger, her face like hateitself; and after that I said no more, but left her in peace, andcontented myself with walking at her shoulder until we came to the endof the village, where the track to the great house plunged into thewood. There she stopped, and turned on me like a wild creature at bay."What do you want?" she cried hoarsely, breathing as if she had beenrunning.
"To see you safe to the house," I answered coolly.
"And if I will not?" she retorted.
"The choice does not lie with you, Mademoiselle," I answered sternly."You will go to the house with me, and on the way you will give me aninterview; but not here. Here we are not private enough. We may beinterrupted at any moment, and I wish to speak to you at length."
I saw her shiver. "What if I will not?" she said again.
"I might call to the nearest soldiers and tell them who you are," Ianswered coolly. "I might, but I should not. That were a clumsy way ofpunishing you, and I know a better way. I should go to the captain,Mademoiselle, and tell him whose horse is locked up in the inn stable.A trooper told me--as some one had told him--that it belonged to oneof his officers; but I looked through the crack, and I knew the horseagain."
She could not repress a groan. I waited. Still she did not speak."Shall I go to the captain?" I said ruthlessly.
She shook the hood back from her face, and looked at me. "Oh, youcoward! you coward!" she hissed through her teeth. "If I had a knife!"
"But you have not, Mademoiselle," I answered, unmoved. "Be goodenough, therefore, to make up your mind which it is to be. Am I to gowith my news to the captain, or am I to come with you?"
"Give me the pitcher!" she said harshly.
I did so, wondering. In a moment she flung it with a savage gesturefar into the bushes. "Come!" she said, "if you will. But some day Godwill punish you!"
Without another word she turned and entered the path through thetrees, and I followed her. I suppose every turn in its course, everyhollow and broken place in it had been known to her from childhood,for she followed it swiftly and unerringly, barefoot as she was. I hadto walk fast through the darkness to keep up with her. The wood wasquiet, but the frogs were beginning to croak in the pool, and theirpersistent chorus reminded me of the night when I had come to thehouse-door hurt and worn out, and Clon had admitted me, and she hadstood under the gallery in the hall. Things had looked dark then. Ihad seen but a very little way ahead. Now all was plain. TheCommandant might be here with all his soldiers, but it was I who heldthe strings.
We came to the little wooden bridge and saw beyond the dark meadowsthe lights of the house. All the windows were bright. Doubtless thetroopers were making merry. "Now, Mademoiselle," I said quietly. "Imust trouble you to stop here, and give me your attention for a fewminutes. Afterwards you may go your way."
"Speak!" she said defiantly. "And be quick! I cannot breathe the airwhere you are! It poisons me!"
"Ah!" I said slowly. "Do you think you make things better by suchspeeches as those?"
"Oh!" she cried--and I heard her teeth click together. "Would you haveme fawn on you?"
"Perhaps not," I answered. "Still you make one mistake."
"What is it?" she panted.
"You forget that I am to be feared as well as--loathed!" I answeredgrimly. "Ay, Mademoiselle, to be feared!" I continued. "Do you thinkthat I do not know why you are here in this guise? Do you think that Ido not know for whom that pitcher of broth was intended? Or who willnow have to fast to-night? I tell you I know all these things. Yourhouse is full of soldiers; your servants were watched and could notleave. You had to come yourself and get food for him!"
She clutched at the hand-rail of the bridge, and for an instant clungto it for support. Her face, from which the shawl had fallen,glimmered white in the shadow of the trees. At last I had shaken herpride. At last! "What is your price?" she murmured faintly.
"I am going to tell you," I replied, speaking so that every word mightfall distinctly on her ears, and sating my eyes on her proud face. Ihad never dreamed of such revenge as this! "About a fortnight ago, M.de Cocheforet left here at night with a little orange-coloured sachetin his possession."
She uttered a stifled cry, and drew herself stiffly erect.
"It contained--but there, Mademoiselle, you know its contents," I wenton. "Whatever they were, M. de Cocheforet lost it and them atstarting. A week ago he came back--unfortunately for himself--to seekthem."
She was looking full in my face now. She seemed scarcely to breathe inthe intensity
of her surprise and expectation. "You had a search made,Mademoiselle," I continued quietly. "Your servants left no placeunexplored. The paths, the roads, the very woods were ransacked. Butin vain, because all the while the orange sachet lay whole andunopened in my pocket."
"No!" she cried impetuously. "You lie, Sir! The sachet was found, tornopen, many leagues from this place!"
"Where I threw it, Mademoiselle," I replied, "that I might misleadyour rascals and be free to return. Oh! believe me," I continued,letting something of myself, something of my triumph, appear at lastin my voice. "You have made a mistake! You would have done better hadyou trusted me. I am no bundle of sawdust, Mademoiselle, but a man: aman with an arm to shield and a brain to serve, and--as I am going toteach you--a heart also!"
She shivered.
"In the orange-coloured sachet that you lost I believe there wereeighteen stones of great value?"
She made no answer, but she looked at me as if I fascinated her. Hervery breath seemed to pause and wait on my words. She was so littleconscious of anything else, of anything outside ourselves, that ascore of men might have come up behind her unseen and unnoticed.
I took from my breast a little packet wrapped in soft leather, andheld it towards her. "Will you open this?" I said. "I believe itcontains what you lost. That it contains all I will not answer,Mademoiselle, because I spilled the stones on the floor of my room,and I may have failed to find some. But the others can be recovered--Iknow where they are."
She took the packet slowly and began to unroll it, her fingersshaking. A few turns and the mild lustre of the stones made a kind ofmoonlight in her hands--such a shimmering glory of imprisoned light ashas ruined many a woman and robbed many a man of his honour._Morbleu!_ as I looked at them--and as she stood looking at them indull, entranced perplexity--I wondered how I had come to resist thetemptation.
While I gazed her hands began to waver. "I cannot count," she mutteredhelplessly. "How many are there?"
"In all, eighteen.'
"They should be eighteen," she said.
She closed her hand on them with that, and opened it again, and did sotwice, as if to reassure herself that the stones were real and thatshe was not dreaming. Then she turned to me with sudden fierceness,and I saw that her beautiful face, sharpened by the greed ofpossession, was grown as keen and vicious as before. "Well?" shemuttered between her teeth. "Your price, man? Your price?"
"I am coming to it now, Mademoiselle," I said gravely. "It is a simplematter. You remember the afternoon when I followed you--clumsily andthoughtlessly perhaps--through the wood to restore these things? Itseems about a month ago. I believe it happened the day beforeyesterday. You called me then some very harsh names, which I will nothurt you by repeating. The only price I ask for restoring your jewelsis that you recall those names.
"How?" she muttered. "I do not understand."
I repeated my words very slowly. "The only price or reward I ask,Mademoiselle, is that you take back those names, and say that theywere not deserved."
"And the jewels?" she exclaimed hoarsely.
"They are yours. They are nothing to me. Take them, and say that youdo not think of me-- Nay, I cannot say the words, Mademoiselle."
"But there is something--else! What else?" she cried, her head thrownback, her eyes, bright as any wild animal's, searching mine. "Ha! mybrother? What of him? What of him, Sir?"
"For him, Mademoiselle--I would prefer that you should tell me no morethan I know already," I answered in a low voice. "I do not wish to bein that affair. But yes, there is one thing I have not mentioned. Youare right."
She sighed so deeply that I caught the sound.
"It is," I continued slowly, "that you will permit me to remain atCocheforet for a few days, while the soldiers are here. I am told thatthere are twenty men and two officers quartered in your house. Yourbrother is away. I ask to be permitted, Mademoiselle, to take hisplace for the time, and to be privileged to protect your sister andyourself from insult. That is all."
She raised her hand to her head. After a long pause: "The frogs!" shemuttered, "they croak! I cannot hear."
And then, to my surprise, she turned suddenly on her heel, and walkedover the bridge, leaving me there. For a moment I stood aghast,peering after her shadowy figure, and wondering what had taken her.Then, in a minute or less, she came quickly back to me, and Iunderstood. She was crying.
"M. de Barthe," she said, in a trembling voice, which told me that thevictory was won. "Is there nothing else? Have you no other penance forme?"
"None, Mademoiselle."
She had drawn the shawl over her head, and I no longer saw her face."That is all you ask?" she murmured.
"That is all I ask--now," I answered.
"It is granted," she said slowly and firmly. "Forgive me if I seem tospeak lightly--if I seem to make little of your generosity or myshame; but I can say no more now. I am so deep in trouble and sognawed by terror that--I cannot feel anything much to-night, eithershame or gratitude. I am in a dream; God grant it may pass as a dream!We are sunk in trouble. But for you and what you have done, M. deBarthe--I--" she paused and I heard her fighting with the sobs whichchoked her--"forgive me.... I am overwrought. And my--my feet arecold," she added suddenly and irrelevantly. "Will you take me home?"
"Ah, Mademoiselle," I cried remorsefully, "I have been a beast! Youare barefoot, and I have kept you here."
"It is nothing," she said in a voice which thrilled me. "My heart iswarm, Monsieur--thanks to you. It is many hours since it has been aswarm."
She stepped out of the shadow as she spoke--and there, the thing wasdone. As I had planned, so it had come about. Once more I was crossingthe meadow in the dark to be received at Cocheforet a welcome guest.The frogs croaked in the pool and a bat swooped round us in circles;and surely never--never, I thought, with a kind of exultation in mybreast--had man been placed in a stranger position.
Somewhere in the black wood behind us--probably in the outskirts ofthe village--lurked M. de Cocheforet. In the great house before us,outlined by a score of lighted windows, were the soldiers come fromAuch to take him. Between the two, moving side by side in thedarkness, in a silence which each found to be eloquent, wereMademoiselle and I: she who knew so much, I who knew all--all but onelittle thing!
We reached the house, and I suggested that she should steal in firstby the way she had come out, and that I should wait a little and knockat the door when she had had time to explain matters to Clon.
"They do not let me see Clon," she answered slowly.
"Then your woman must tell him," I rejoined. "Or he may say somethingand betray me."
"They will not let our woman come to us."
"What?" I cried, astonished. "But this is infamous. You are notprisoners!"
Mademoiselle laughed harshly. "Are we not? Well, I suppose not; for ifwe wanted company, Captain Larolle said he would be delighted to seeus--in the parlour."
"He has taken your parlour?" I said.
"He and his lieutenant sit there. But I suppose we should bethankful," she added bitterly. "We have still our bed-rooms left tous."
"Very well," I said. "Then I must deal with Clon as I can. But I havestill a favour to ask, Mademoiselle. It is only that you and yoursister will descend to-morrow at your usual time. I shall be in theparlour."
"I would rather not," she said, pausing and speaking in a troubledvoice.
"Are you afraid?"
"No, Monsieur; I am not afraid," she answered proudly. "But--"
"You will come?" I said.
She sighed before she spoke. At length, "Yes, I will come--if you wishit," she answered; and the next moment she was gone round the cornerof the house, while I laughed to think of the excellent watch thesegallant gentlemen were keeping. M. de Cocheforet might have been withher in the garden, might have talked with her as I had talked, mighthave entered the house even, and passed under their noses scot-free.But that is the way of soldiers. They are always ready for the enemy,with drums beating
and flags flying--at ten o'clock in the morning.But he does not always come at that hour.
I waited a little, and then I groped my way to the door, and knockedon it with the hilt of my sword. The dogs began to bark at the back,and the chorus of a drinking-song, which came fitfully from the eastwing, ceased altogether. An inner door opened, and an angry voice,apparently an officer's, began to rate some one for not coming.Another moment, and a clamour of voices and footsteps seemed to pourinto the hall, and fill it. I heard the bar jerked away, the door wasflung open, and in a twinkling a lanthorn, behind which a dozenflushed visages were dimly seen, was thrust into my face.
"Why, who the fiend is this?" cried one, glaring at me inastonishment.
"_Morbleu!_ It is the man!" another shrieked. "Seize him!"
In a moment half a dozen hands were laid on my shoulders, but I onlybowed politely. "The officer, my friends," I said, "M. le CapitaineLarolle. Where is he?"
"_Diable!_ but who are you, first?" the lanthorn-bearer retortedbluntly. He was a tall, lanky sergeant, with a sinister face.
"Well, I am not M. de Cocheforet," I replied; "and that must satisfyyou, my man. For the rest, if you do not fetch Captain Larolle at onceand admit me, you will find the consequences inconvenient."
"Ho! ho!" he said, with a sneer. "You can crow, it seems. Well, comein."
They made way, and I walked into the hall, keeping my hat on. On thegreat hearth a fire had been kindled, but it had gone out. Three orfour carbines stood against one wall, and beside them lay a heap ofhaversacks and some straw. A shattered stool, broken in a frolic, andhalf a dozen empty wine-skins strewed the floor, and helped to givethe place an air of untidiness and disorder. I looked round with eyesof disgust, and my gorge rose. They had spilled oil, and the placereeked foully.
"_Ventre bleu!_" I said. "Is this conduct in a gentleman's house, yourascals? _Ma vie!_ If I had you, I would send half of you to thewooden horse!"
They gazed at me open-mouthed. My arrogance startled them. Thesergeant alone scowled. When he could find his voice for rage--
"This way!" he said. "We did not know a general officer was coming, orwe would have been better prepared!" And muttering oaths under hisbreath, he led me down the well-known passage. At the door of theparlour he stopped. "Introduce yourself!" he said rudely. "And if youfind the air warm, don't blame me!"
I raised the latch and went in. At a table in front of the hearth,half covered with glasses and bottles, sat two men playing hazard. Thedice rang sharply as I entered, and he who had just thrown kept thebox over them while he turned, scowling, to see who came in. He was afair-haired, blonde man, large-framed and florid. He had put off hiscuirass and boots, and his doublet showed frayed and stained where thearmour had pressed on it. But otherwise he was in the extreme of lastyear's fashion. His deep cravat, folded over so that the laced endsdrooped a little in front, was of the finest; his great sash of blueand silver was a foot wide. He had a little jewel in one ear, and histiny beard was peaked _a l'Espagnole_. Probably when he turned heexpected to see the sergeant, for at sight of me he rose slowly,leaving the dice still covered.
"What folly is this?" he cried wrathfully. "Here, Sergeant!Sergeant!--without there! What the--! Who are you, Sir?"
"Captain Larolle," I said, uncovering politely, "I believe?"
"Yes, I am Captain Larolle," he retorted. "But who, in the fiend'sname, are you? You are not the man we are after!"
"I am not M. Cocheforet," I said coolly. "I am merely a guest in thehouse, M. le Capitaine. I have been enjoying Madame de Cocheforet'shospitality for some time, but by an evil chance I was away when youarrived." And with that I walked to the hearth, and, gently pushingaside his great boots which stood there drying, kicked the logs into ablaze.
"_Mille diables!_" he whispered. And never did I see a man moreconfounded. But I affected to be taken up with his companion, asturdy, white-mustachioed old veteran, who sat back in his chair,eyeing me, with swollen cheeks and eyes surcharged with surprise.
"Good evening, M. le Lieutenant," I said, bowing gravely. "It is afine night."
Then the storm burst.
"Fine night!" the captain shrieked, finding his voice again. "_Millediables!_ Are you aware, Sir, that I am in possession of this house,and that no one harbours here without my permission? Guest!Hospitality! Lieutenant--call the guard! Call the guard!" he continuedpassionately. "Where is that ape of a sergeant?"
The lieutenant rose to obey, but I lifted my hand.
"Gently, gently, Captain," I said. "Not so fast! You seem surprised tosee me here. Believe me, I am much more surprised to see you."
"_Sacre!_" he cried, recoiling at this fresh impertinence, while thelieutenant's eyes almost jumped out of his head.
But nothing moved me.
"Is the door closed?" I said sweetly. "Thank you; it is, I see. Thenpermit me to say again, gentlemen, that I am much more surprised tosee you than you can be to see me. When Monseigneur the Cardinalhonoured me by sending me from Paris to conduct this matter, he gaveme the fullest--the fullest powers, M. le Capitaine--to see the affairto an end. I was not led to expect that my plans would be spoiled onthe eve of success by the intrusion of half the garrison from Auch!"
"O ho!" the captain said softly--in a very different tone and with avery different face. "So you are the gentleman I heard of at Auch?"
"Very likely," I said drily. "But I am from Paris, not Auch."
"To be sure," he answered thoughtfully. "Eh, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, M. le Capitaine, no doubt," the inferior replied. And they bothlooked at one another, and then at me, in a way I did not understand.
"I think," said I, to clinch the matter, "that you have made amistake, Captain; or the Commandant has. And it occurs to me that theCardinal will not be best pleased."
"I hold the King's commission," he answered rather stiffly.
"To be sure," I replied. "But you see the Cardinal--"
"Ah, but the Cardinal--" he rejoined quickly; and then he stopped andshrugged his shoulders. And they both looked at me.
"Well?" I said.
"The King," he answered slowly.
"Tut-tut!" I exclaimed, spreading out my hands. "The Cardinal. Let usstick to him. You were saying?"
"Well, the Cardinal, you see--" And then again, after the same words,he stopped--stopped abruptly and shrugged his shoulders.
I began to suspect something. "If you have anything to say againstMonseigneur," I answered, watching him narrowly, "say it. But take aword of advice. Don't let it go beyond the door of this room, myfriend, and it will do you no harm."
"Neither here nor outside," he retorted, looking for a moment at hiscomrade. "Only I hold the King's commission. That is all. And I thinkenough. For the rest, will you throw a main? Good! Lieutenant, find aglass, and the gentleman a seat. And here, for my part, I will giveyou a toast. The Cardinal--whatever betide!"
I drank it, and sat down to play with him; I had not heard the musicof the dice for a month, and the temptation was irresistible. But Iwas not satisfied. I called the mains and won his crowns,--he was amere baby at the game,--but half my mind was elsewhere. There wassomething here I did not understand; some influence at work on which Ihad not counted; something moving under the surface as unintelligibleto me as the soldiers' presence. Had the captain repudiated mycommission altogether, and put me to the door or sent me to theguard-house, I could have followed that. But these dubious hints, thispassive resistance, puzzled me. Had they news from Paris, I wondered.Was the King dead? or the Cardinal ill? I asked them. But they saidno, no, no to all, and gave me guarded answers. And midnight found usstill playing; and still fencing.
Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Page 7