CHAPTER XIV.
M. DE RAMBOUILLET.
For a while we were but a melancholy party. The incident I have lastrelated--which seemed to admit of more explanations than one--left mein a state of the greatest perplexity; and this prevailed with me fora time, and was only dissipated at length by my seeing my own face, asit were, in a glass. For, chancing presently to look behind me, Iobserved that Simon Fleix was riding, notwithstanding his fine hatand feather and his new sword, in a posture and with an air ofdejection difficult to exaggerate; whereon the reflection that masterand man had the same object in their minds--nay, the thought thatpossibly he bore in his bosom a like token to that which lay warm inmine--occurring to me, I roused myself as from some degrading dream,and, shaking up the Cid, cantered forward to join Rosny, who, in nocheerful mood himself, was riding steadily forward, wrapped to hiseyes in his cloak.
The news of the King of Navarre's illness had fallen on him, indeed,in the midst of his sanguine scheming with the force of a thunderbolt.He saw himself in danger of losing at once the master he loved and thebrilliant future to which he looked forward; and amid the imminentcrash of his hopes and the destruction of the system in which helived, he had scarcely time to regret the wife he was leaving at Rosnyor the quiet from which he was so suddenly called. His heart was inthe South, at La Ganache, by Henry's couch. His main idea was to getthere quickly at all risks. The name of the King of Navarre'sphysician was constantly on his lips. 'Dortoman is a good man. Ifanyone can save him, Dortoman will,' was his perpetual cry. Andwhenever he met anyone who had the least appearance of bearing news,he would have me stop and interrogate him, and by no means let thetraveller go until he had given us the last rumour from Blois--thechannel through which all the news from the South reached us.
An incident which occurred at the inn that evening cheered himsomewhat; the most powerful minds being prone, I have observed, tosnatch at omens in times of uncertainty. An elderly man, of strangeappearance, and dressed in an affected and bizarre fashion, was seatedat table when we arrived. Though I entered first in my assumedcapacity of leader of the party, he let me pass before him withoutcomment, but rose and solemnly saluted M. de Rosny, albeit the latterwalked behind me and was much more plainly dressed. Rosny returned hisgreeting and would have passed on; but the stranger, interposing witha still lower bow, invited him to take his seat, which was near thefire and sheltered from the draught, at the same time making as if hewould himself remove to another place.
'Nay,' said my companion, surprised by such an excess of courtesy, 'Ido not see why I should take your place, sir.'
'Not mine only,' the old man rejoined, looking at him with aparticularity and speaking with an emphasis which attracted ourattention, 'but those of many others, who I can assure you will veryshortly yield them up to you, whether they will or not.'
M. de Rosny shrugged his shoulders and passed on, affecting to supposethe old man wandered. But privately he thought much of his words, andmore when he learned that he was an astrologer from Paris, who had thename, at any rate in this country, of having studied underNostradamus. And whether he drew fresh hopes from this, or turned hisattention more particularly as we approached Blois to present matters,certainly he grew more cheerful, and began again to discuss thefuture, as though assured of his master's recovery.
'You have never been to the King's Court?' he said presently,following up, as I judged, a train of thought in his own mind. 'AtBlois, I mean.'
'No; nor do I feel anxious to visit it,' I answered. 'To tell you thetruth, M. le Baron,' I continued with some warmth, 'the sooner we arebeyond Blois, the better I shall be pleased. I think we run some riskthere, and, besides, I do not fancy a shambles. I do not think I couldsee the king without thinking of the Bartholomew, nor his chamberwithout thinking of Guise.'
'Tut, tut!' he said, 'you have killed a man before now.'
'Many,' I answered.
'Do they trouble you?'
'No, but they were killed in fair fight,' I replied. 'That makes adifference.'
'To you,' he said drily. 'But you are not the King of France, you see.Should you ever come across him, he continued, flicking his horse'sears, a faint smile on his lips, 'I will give you a hint. Talk to himof the battles at Jarnac and Moncontour, and praise your Conde'sfather! As Conde lost the fight and he won it, the compliment comeshome to him. The more hopelessly a man has lost his powers, my friend,the more fondly he regards them, and the more highly he prizes thevictories he can no longer gain.'
'Ugh!' I muttered.
'Of the two parties at Court,' Rosny continued, calmly overlooking myill-humour, 'trust D'Aumont and Biron and the French clique. They aretrue to France at any rate. But whomsoever you see consort with thetwo Retzs--the King of Spain's jackals as men name them--avoid him fora Spaniard and a traitor.'
'But the Retzs are Italians,' I objected peevishly.
'The same thing,' he answered curtly. 'They cry, "Vive le Roi!" butprivately they are for the League, or for Spain, or for whatever maymost hurt us; who are better Frenchmen than themselves, and whoseleader will some day, if God spare his life, be King of France.'
'Well, the less I have to do with the one or the other of them, saveat the sword's point, the better I shall be pleased,' I rejoined.
On that he looked at me with a queer smile; as was his way when he hadmore in his mind than appeared. And this, and something special in thetone of his conversation, as well, perhaps, as my own doubts about myfuture and his intentions regarding me, gave me an uneasy feeling;which lasted through the day, and left me only when more immediateperil presently rose to threaten us.
It happened in this way. We had reached the outskirts of Blois, andwere just approaching the gate, hoping to pass through it withoutattracting attention, when two travellers rode slowly out of a lane,the mouth of which we were passing. They eyed us closely as theyreined in to let us go by; and M. de Rosny, who was riding with hishorse's head at my stirrup, whispered me to press on. Before I couldcomply, however, the strangers cantered by us, and turning in thesaddle when abreast of us looked us in the face. A moment later one ofthem cried loudly, 'It is he! and both pulled their horses across theroad, and waited for us to come up.
Aware that if M. de Rosny were discovered he would be happy if heescaped with imprisonment, the king being too jealous of his Catholicreputation to venture to protect a Huguenot, however illustrious, Isaw that the situation was desperate; for, though we were five totwo, the neighbourhood of the city--the gate being scarcely a bow-shotoff--rendered flight or resistance equally hopeless. I could think ofnothing for it save to put a bold face on the matter, and, M. de Rosnydoing the same, we advanced in the most innocent way possible.
'Halt, there!' cried one of the strangers sharply. 'And let me tellyou, sir, you are known.'
'What if I am?' I answered impatiently, still pressing on. 'Are youhighwaymen, that you stop the way?'
The speaker on the other side looked at me keenly, but in a momentretorted, 'Enough trifling, sir! Who you are I do not know. But theperson riding at your rein is M. de Rosny. Him I do know, and I warnhim to stop.'
I thought the game was lost, but to my surprise my companion answeredat once and almost in the same words I had used. 'Well, sir, and whatof that?' he said.
'What of that?' the stranger exclaimed, spurring his horse so as stillto bar the way. 'Why, only this, that you must be a madman to showyourself on this side of the Loire.'
'It is long since I have seen the other,' was my companion's unmovedanswer.
'You are M. de Rosny? You do not deny it?' the man cried inastonishment.
'Certainly I do not deny it,' M. de Rosny answered bluntly. 'And more,the day has been, sir,' he continued with sudden fire, 'when few athis Majesty's Court would have dared to chop words with Solomon deBethune, much less to stop him on the highway within a mile of thepalace. But times are changed with me, sir, and it would seem withothers also, if true men r
allying to his Majesty in his need are to bechallenged by every passer on the road.'
'What! Are you Solomon de Bethune?' the man cried incredulously.Incredulously, but his countenance fell, and his voice was full ofchagrin and disappointment.
'Who else, sir?' M. de Rosny replied haughtily. 'I am, and, as far asI know, I have as much right on this side of the Loire as any otherman.'
'A thousand pardons.'
'If you are not satisfied----'
'Nay, M. de Rosny, I am perfectly satisfied.'
The stranger repeated this with a very crestfallen air, adding, 'Athousand pardons'; and fell to making other apologies, doffing his hatwith great respect. 'I took you, if you will pardon me saying so, foryour Huguenot brother, M. Maximilian,' he explained. 'The saying goesthat he is at Rosny.'
'I can answer for that being false,' M. de Rosny answeredperemptorily, 'for I have just come from there, and I will answer forit he is not within ten leagues of the place. And now, sir, as wedesire to enter before the gates shut, perhaps you will excuse us.'With which he bowed, and I bowed, and they bowed, and we separated.They gave us the road, which M. de Rosny took with a great air, and wetrotted to the gate, and passed through it without misadventure.
The first street we entered was a wide one, and my companion tookadvantage of this to ride up abreast of me. 'That is the kind ofadventure our little prince is fond of,' he muttered. 'But for mypart, M. de Marsac, the sweat is running down my forehead. I haveplayed the trick more than once before, for my brother and I are aslike as two peas. And yet it would have gone ill with us if the foolhad been one of his friends.'
'All's well that ends well,' I answered in a low voice, thinking it anill time for compliments. As it was, the remark was unfortunate, forM. de Rosny was still in the act of reining back when Maignan calledout to us to say we were being followed.
I looked behind, but could see nothing except gloom and rain andoverhanging eaves and a few figures cowering in doorways. Theservants, however, continued to maintain that it was so, and we held,without actually stopping, a council of war. If detected, we werecaught in a trap, without hope of escape; and for the moment I am sureM. de Rosny regretted that he had chosen this route by Blois--that hehad thrust himself, in his haste and his desire to take with him thelatest news, into a snare so patent. The castle--huge, dark, andgrim--loomed before us at the end of the street in which we were, and,chilled as I was myself by the sight, I could imagine how much moreappalling it must appear to him, the chosen counsellor of his master,and the steadfast opponent of all which it represented.
Our consultation came to nothing, for no better course suggesteditself than to go as we had intended to the lodging commonly used bymy companion. We did so, looking behind us often, and saying more thanonce that Maignan must be mistaken. As soon as we had dismounted,however, and gone in, he showed us from the window a man loiteringnear; and this confirmation of our alarm sending as to our expedientsagain, while Maignan remained watching in a room without a light, Isuggested that I might pass myself off, though ten years older, for,my companion.
'Alas!' he said, drumming with his fingers on the table, 'there aretoo many here who know me to make that possible. I thank you all thesame.'
'Could you escape on foot? Or pass the wall anywhere, or slip throughthe gates early?' I suggested.
'They might tell us at the Bleeding Heart,' he answered. 'But I doubtit. I was a fool, sir, to put my neck into Mendoza's halter, and thatis a fact. But here is Maignan. What is it, man?' he continuedeagerly.
'The watcher is gone, my lord,' the equerry answered.
'And has left no one?'
'No one that I can see.'
We both went into the next room and looked from the windows. The manwas certainly not where we had seen him before. But the rain wasfalling heavily, the eaves were dripping, the street was a dark cavernwith only here and there a spark of light, and the fellow might belurking elsewhere. Maignan, being questioned, however, believed he hadgone off of set purpose.
'Which may be read half a dozen ways,' I remarked.
'At any rate, we are fasting,' M. de Rosny answered. 'Give me a fullman in a fight. Let us sit down and eat. It is no good jumping in thedark, or meeting troubles half way.'
We were not through our meal, however, Simon Fleix waiting on us witha pale face, when Maignan came in again from the dark room. 'My lord,'he said quietly, 'three men have appeared. Two of them remain twentypaces away. The third has come to the door.'
As he spoke we heard a cautious summons below. Maignan was for goingdown, but his master bade him stand. 'Let the woman of the house go,'he said.
I remarked and long remembered M. de Rosny's _sangfroid_ on thisoccasion. His pistols he had already laid on a chair beside him,throwing his cloak over them; and now, while we waited, listening inbreathless silence, I saw him hand a large slice of bread-and-meat tohis equerry, who, standing behind his chair, began eating it with thesame coolness. Simon Fleix, on the other hand, stood gazing at thedoor, trembling in every limb, and with so much of excitement andsurprise in his attitude that I took the precaution of bidding him, ina low voice, do nothing without orders. At the same moment it occurredto me to extinguish two of the four candles which had been lighted;and I did so, M. de Rosny nodding assent, just as the mutteredconversation which was being carried on below ceased, and a man'stread sounded on the stairs.
It was followed immediately by a knock on the outside of our door.Obeying my companion's look, I cried, 'Enter!'
A slender man of middle height, booted and wrapped up, with his facealmost entirely hidden by a fold of his cloak, came in quickly, and,closing the door behind him, advanced towards the table. 'Which is M.de Rosny?' he said.
Rosny had carefully turned his face from the light, but at the soundof the other's voice he sprang up with a cry of relief. He was aboutto speak, when the new-comer, raising his hand peremptorily,continued, 'No names, I beg. Yours, I suppose, is known here. Mine isnot, nor do I desire it should be. I want speech of you, that is all.'
'I am greatly honoured,' M. de Rosny replied, gazing at him eagerly.'Yet, who told you I was here?'
'I saw you pass under a lamp in the street,' the stranger answered. 'Iknew your horse first, and you afterwards, and bade a groom followyou. Believe me,' he added, with a gesture of the hand, 'you havenothing to fear from me.'
'I accept the assurance in the spirit in which it is offered,' mycompanion answered with a graceful bow, 'and think myself fortunate inbeing recognised'--he paused a moment and then continued--'by aFrenchman and a man of honour.'
The stranger shrugged his shoulders. 'Your pardon, then,' he said, 'ifI seem abrupt. My time is short. I want to do the best with it I can.Will you favour me?'
I was for withdrawing, but M. de Rosny ordered Maignan to place lightsin the next room, and, apologising to me very graciously, retiredthither with the stranger; leaving me relieved indeed by thesepeaceful appearances, but full of wonder and conjectures who thismight be, and what the visit portended. At one moment I was inclinedto identify the stranger with M. de Rosny's brother; at another withthe English ambassador; and then, again, a wild idea that he might beM. de Bruhl occurred to me. The two remained together about a quarterof an hour and then came out, the stranger leading the way, andsaluting me politely as he passed through the room. At the door heturned to say, 'At nine o'clock, then?'
'At nine o'clock,' M. de Rosny replied, holding the door open. 'Youwill excuse me if I do not descend, Marquis?'
'Yes, go back, my friend,' the stranger answered. And, lighted byMaignan, whose face on such occasions could assume the most stolid airin the world, he disappeared down the stairs, and I heard him go out.
M. de Rosny turned to me, his eyes sparkling with joy, his face andmien full of animation. 'The King of Navarre is better,' he said. 'Heis said to be out of danger. What do you think of that, my friend?'
'That is the best news I have heard for many a day,' I answered. And Ihastened to add, that Fran
ce and the Religion had reason to thank Godfor His mercy.
'Amen to that,' my patron replied reverently. 'But that is notall--that is not all.' And he began to walk up and down the roomhumming the 118th Psalm a little above his breath--
La voici l'heureuse journee Que Dieu a faite a plein desir; Par nous soit joie demenee, Et prenons en elle plaisir.
He continued, indeed, to walk up and down the floor so long, and withso joyful a countenance and demeanour, that I ventured at last toremind him of my presence, which he had clearly forgotten. 'Ha! tobe sure,' he said, stopping short and looking at me with the utmostgood-humour. 'What time is it? Seven. Then until nine o'clock, myfriend, I crave your indulgence. In fine, until that time I must keepcounsel. Come, I am hungry still. Let us sit down, and this time Ihope we may not be interrupted. Simon, set us on a fresh bottle. Ha!ha! _Vivent le Roi et le Roi de Navarre!_' And again he fell tohumming the same psalm--
O Dieu eternel, je te prie, Je te prie, ton roi maintiens: O Dieu, je te prie et reprie, Sauve ton roi et l'entretiens!
doing so with a light in his eyes and a joyous emphasis, whichimpressed me the more in a man ordinarily so calm and self-contained.I saw that something had occurred to gratify him beyond measure, and,believing his statement that this was not the good news from LaGanache only, I waited with the utmost interest and anxiety for thehour of nine, which had no sooner struck than our former visitorappeared with the same air of mystery and disguise which had attendedhim before.
M. de Rosny, who had risen on hearing his step and had taken up hiscloak, paused with it half on and half off, to cry anxiously, 'All iswell, is it not?'
'Perfectly,' the stranger replied, with a nod.
'And my friend?'
'Yes, on condition that you answer for his discretion and fidelity.'And the stranger glanced involuntarily at me, who stood uncertain,whether to hold my ground or retire.
'Good,' M. de Rosny cried. Then he turned to me with a mingled air ofdignity and kindness, and continued: 'This is the gentleman. M. deMarsac, I am honoured with permission to present you to the Marquis deRambouillet, whose interest and protection I beg you to deserve, forhe is a true Frenchman and a patriot whom I respect.'
M. de Rambouillet saluted me politely. 'Of a Brittany family, Ithink?' he said.
I assented; and he replied with something complimentary. Butafterwards he continued to look at me in silence with a keenness andcuriosity I did not understand. At last, when M. de Rosny's impatiencehad reached a high pitch, the marquis seemed impelled to addsomething. 'You quite understand, M. de Rosny?' he said. 'Withoutsaying anything disparaging of M. de Marsac, who is, no doubt, a manof honour'--and he bowed to me very low--'this is a delicate matter,and you will introduce no one into it, I am sure, whom you cannottrust as yourself.'
'Precisely,' M. de Rosny replied, speaking drily, yet with a grand airwhich fully matched his companion's. 'I am prepared to trust thisgentleman not only with my life but with my honour.'
'Nothing more remains to be said then,' the marquis rejoined, bowingto me again. 'I am glad to have been the occasion of a declaration soflattering to you, sir.'
I returned his salute in silence, and obeying M. de Rosny's muttereddirection put on my cloak and sword. M. de Rosny took up his pistols.
'You will have no need of those,' the marquis said with a high glance.
'Where we are going, no,' my companion answered, calmly continuing todispose them about him. 'But the streets are dark and not too safe.'
M. de Rambouillet laughed. 'That is the worst of you Huguenots,' hesaid. 'You never know when to lay suspicion aside.'
A hundred retorts sprang to my lips. I thought of the Bartholomew, ofthe French fury of Antwerp, of half a dozen things which make my bloodboil to this day. But M. de Rosny's answer was the finest of all.'That is true, I am afraid,' he said quietly. 'On the other hand, youCatholics--take the late M. de Guise for instance--have the habit oferring on the other side, I think, and sometimes trust too far.'
The marquis, without making any answer to this home-thrust, led theway out, and we followed, being joined at the door of the house by acouple of armed lackeys, who fell in behind us. We went on foot. Thenight was dark, and the prospect out of doors was not cheering. Thestreets were wet and dirty, and notwithstanding all our care we fellcontinually into pitfalls or over unseen obstacles. Crossing the_parvis_ of the cathedral, which I remembered, we plunged in silenceinto an obscure street near the river, and so narrow that the decrepithouses shut out almost all view of the sky. The gloom of oursurroundings, no less than my ignorance of the errand on which we werebound, filled me with anxiety and foreboding. My companions keepingstrict silence, however, and taking every precaution to avoid beingrecognised, I had no choice but to do likewise.
I could think, and no more. I felt myself borne along by anirresistible current, whither and for what purpose I could not tell;an experience to an extent strange at my age the influence of thenight and the weather. Twice we stood aside to let a party ofroisterers go by, and the excessive care M. de Rambouillet evinced onthese occasions to avoid recognition did not tend to reassure me ormake me think more lightly of the unknown business on which I wasbound.
Reaching at last an open space, our leader bade us in a low voice becareful and follow him closely. We did so, and crossed in this way andin single file a narrow plank or wooden bridge; but whether water ranbelow or a dry ditch only, I could not determine. My mind was taken upat the moment with the discovery which I had just made, that the darkbuilding, looming huge and black before us with a single lighttwinkling here and there at great heights, was the Castle of Blois.
Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Page 66