La reine Margot. English

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  THE GHOSTS.

  For some time each of the young men kept his secret confined to his ownheart. At last their reserve burst its barriers, and the thought whichhad so long occupied them escaped their lips, and both cemented theirfriendship by this final proof, without which there is nofriendship,--namely, perfect confidence.

  They were both madly in love--one with a princess and the other with aqueen.

  For these two poor suitors there was something frightful in the almostinsuperable distance separating them from the objects of their desires.

  And yet hope is a sentiment so deeply rooted in man's heart that inspite of the madness of their love they hoped!

  They both, as they recovered from their illness, took great pains withtheir personal appearance. Every man, even the most indifferent tophysical appearance, has, at certain times, mute interviews with hislooking-glass, signs of intelligence, after which he generally leaveshis confidant, quite satisfied with the interview. Now our two young menwere not persons whose mirrors were compelled to give them harsh advice.La Mole, delicate, pale, and elegant, had the beauty of distinction;Coconnas, powerful, large-framed, and fresh-colored, had the beauty ofstrength. He had more, for his recent illness had been of advantage tohim. He had become thinner, grown paler, and the famous scar which hadformerly caused him so much anxiety from its prismatic relationship tothe rainbow had disappeared, giving promise, probably like thepost-diluvian phenomenon, of a long series of lovely days and calmnights.

  Moreover, the most delicate attentions continued to be lavished on thetwo wounded men, and each of them on the day when he was well enough torise found a _robe-de-chambre_ on the easy-chair nearest his bed; on theday when he was able to dress himself, a complete suit of clothes;moreover, in the pocket of each doublet was a well-filled purse, whichthey each kept, intending, of course, to return, in the proper time andplace, to the unknown protector who watched over them.

  This unknown protector could not be the prince in whose quarters the twoyoung men resided, for the prince had not only never once paid them avisit, but he had not even sent to make any inquiry after them.

  A vague hope whispered to each heart that this unknown protector was thewoman he loved.

  So the two wounded men awaited with intense impatience the moment whenthey could go out. La Mole, stronger and sooner cured than Coconnas,might have done so long before, but a kind of tacit convention bound himto his friend. It was agreed between them that the first time they wentout they should make three calls:

  The first should be upon the unknown doctor whose suave medicine hadbrought such a remarkable improvement in the inflammation of Coconnas'slungs.

  The second to the dwelling of the defunct Maitre La Huriere, where eachof them had left his portmanteau and horse.

  The third to the Florentine Rene, who, uniting to his title of perfumerthat of magician, not only sold cosmetics and poisons, but alsoconcocted philters and delivered oracles.

  At length, after two months passed in convalescence and confinement, thelong-looked-for day arrived.

  We used the word "confinement;" the use of it is accurate becauseseveral times in their impatience they had tried to hasten that day; buteach time a sentinel posted at the door had stopped their passage andthey had learned that they could not step out unless Maitre AmbroisePare gave them their _exeat_.

  Now, one day that clever surgeon, having come to the conclusion that thetwo invalids were, if not completely cured, at least on the road tocomplete recovery, gave them this _exeat_, and about two o'clock in theafternoon on a fine day in autumn, such as Paris sometimes offers to herastonished population, who have already laid up a store of resignationfor the winter, the two friends, arm in arm, set foot outside theLouvre.

  La Mole, finding to his great satisfaction, on an armchair, the famouscherry-colored mantle which he had folded so carefully before the duel,undertook to be Coconnas's guide, and Coconnas allowed himself to beguided without resistance or reflection. He knew that his friend wastaking him to the unknown doctor's whose potion (not patented) had curedhim in a single night, when all of Master Ambroise Pare's drugs wereslowly killing him. He had divided the money in his purse into twoparts, and intended a hundred rose-nobles for the anonymous Esculapiusto whom his recovery was due. Coconnas was not afraid of death, butCoconnas was not the less satisfied to be alive and well, and so, as wesee, he was intending to recompense his deliverer generously.

  La Mole proceeded along the Rue de l'Astruce, the wide Rue Saint Honore,the Rue des Prouvelles, and soon found himself on the Place des Halles.Near the ancient fountain, at the place which is at the present timecalled the Carreau des Halles, was an octagon stone building, surmountedby a vast wooden lantern, which was again surmounted by a pointed roof,on the top of which was a weathercock. This wooden lantern had eightopenings, traversed, as that heraldic piece which they call the _fascis_traverses the field of blazonry, by a kind of wooden wheel, which wasdivided in the middle, in order to admit in the holes cut in it for thatpurpose the head and hands of such sentenced person or persons as wereexposed at one or more of these eight openings.

  This singular arrangement, which had nothing like it in the surroundingbuildings, was called the pillory.

  An ill-constructed, irregular, crooked, one-eyed, limping house, theroof spotted with moss like a leper's skin, had, like a toadstool,sprung up at the foot of this species of tower.

  This house was the executioner's.

  A man was exposed, and was thrusting out his tongue at the passers-by;he was one of the robbers who had been following his profession near thegibbet of Montfaucon, and had by ill luck been arrested in the exerciseof his functions.

  Coconnas believed that his friend had brought him to see this singularspectacle, and he joined the crowd of sightseers who were replying tothe patient's grimaces by vociferations and gibes.

  Coconnas was naturally cruel, and the sight very much amused him, onlyhe would have preferred that instead of gibes and vociferations they hadthrown stones at a convict so insolent as to thrust out his tongue atthe noble lords that condescended to visit him.

  So when the moving lantern was turned on its base, in order to show theculprit to another portion of the square, and the crowd followed,Coconnas would have accompanied them, had not La Mole checked him,saying, in a low tone:

  "We did not come here for this."

  "Well, what did we come for, then?" asked Coconnas.

  "You will see," replied La Mole.

  The two friends had got into the habit of addressing each other with thefamiliar "thee" and "thou" ever since the morning of that famous nightwhen Coconnas had tried to thrust his poniard into La Mole's vitals. Andhe led Coconnas directly to a small window in the house which abutted onthe tower; a man was leaning on the window-sill.

  "Aha! here you are, gentlemen," said the man, raising his blood-red cap,and showing his thick black hair, which came down to his eyebrows. "Youare welcome."

  "Who is this man?" inquired Coconnas, endeavoring to recollect, for itseemed to him he had seen that face during one of the crises of hisfever.

  "Your preserver, my dear friend," replied La Mole; "he who brought toyou at the Louvre that refreshing drink which did you so much good."

  "Oho!" said Coconnas; "in that case, my friend"--

  And he held out his hand to him.

  But the man, instead of returning the gesture, drew himself up andwithdrew from the two friends just the distance occupied by the curve ofhis body.

  "Sir!" he said to Coconnas, "thanks for the honor you wish to confer onme, but it is probable that if you knew me you would not do so."

  "Faith!" said Coconnas, "I declare that, even if you were the devilhimself, I am very greatly obliged to you, for if it had not been foryou I should be dead at this time."

  "I am not exactly the devil," replied the man in the red cap; "but yetpersons are frequently found who would rather see the devil than me."

  "Who are you, pr
ay?" asked Coconnas.

  "Sir," replied the man, "I am Maitre Caboche, the executioner of theprovostry of Paris"--

  "Ah"--said Coconnas, withdrawing his hand.

  "You see!" said Maitre Caboche.

  "No, no; I will touch your hand, or may the devil fetch me! Hold itout"--

  "Really?"

  "Wide as you can."

  "Here it is."

  "Open it--wider--wider!"

  And Coconnas took from his pocket the handful of gold he had preparedfor his anonymous physician and placed it in the executioner's hand.

  "I would rather have had your hand entirely and solely," said MaitreCaboche, shaking his head, "for I do not lack money, but I am in needof hands to touch mine. Never mind. God bless you, my dear gentleman."

  "So then, my friend," said Coconnas, looking at the executioner withcuriosity, "it is you who put men to the rack, who break them on thewheel, quarter them, cut off heads, and break bones. Aha! I am very gladto have made your acquaintance."

  "Sir," said Maitre Caboche, "I do not do all myself; just as you noblegentlemen have your lackeys to do what you do not choose to do yourself,so have I my assistants, who do the coarser work and despatch clownishfellows. Only when, by chance, I have to do with folks of quality, likeyou and your companion, for instance, ah! then it is another thing, andI take a pride in doing everything myself, from first to last,--that isto say, from the first putting of the _question_, to the decapitation."

  In spite of himself, Coconnas felt a shudder pervade his veins, as ifthe brutal wedge was pressing his leg--as if the edge of the axe wasagainst his neck.

  La Mole, without being able to account for it, felt the same sensation.

  But Coconnas overcame the emotion, of which he was ashamed, and desirousof taking leave of Maitre Caboche with a jest on his lips, said to him:

  "Well, master, I hold you to your word, and when it is my turn to mountEnguerrand de Marigny's gallows or Monsieur de Nemours's scaffold youalone shall lay hands on me."

  "I promise you."

  "Then, this time here is my hand, as a pledge that I accept yourpromise," said Coconnas.

  And he offered the executioner his hand, which the latter touchedtimidly with his own, although it was evident that he had a great desireto grasp it warmly.

  At this light touch Coconnas turned rather pale; but the same smilelingered on his lips, while La Mole, ill at ease, and seeing the crowdturn as the lantern did and come toward them, touched his cloak.

  Coconnas, who in reality had as great a desire as La Mole to put an endto this scene, which by the natural bent of his character he had delayedlonger than he would have wished, nodded to the executioner and went hisway.

  "Faith!" said La Mole, when he and his companion had reached the Croixdu Trahoir, "I must confess we breathe more freely here than in thePlace des Halles."

  "Decidedly," replied Coconnas; "but I am none the less glad at havingmade Maitre Caboche's acquaintance. It is well to have friendseverywhere."

  "Even at the sign of the _Belle Etoile_," said La Mole, laughing.

  "Oh! as for poor Maitre La Huriere," said Coconnas, "he is dead and deadagain. I saw the arquebuse spitting flame, I heard the thump of thebullet, which sounded as if it had struck against the great bell ofNotre-Dame, and I left him stretched out in the gutter with streams ofblood flowing from his nose and mouth. Taking it for granted that he isa friend, he is a friend we shall have in the next world."

  Thus chatting, the two young men entered the Rue de l'Arbre Sec andproceeded toward the sign of the _Belle Etoile_, which was stillcreaking in the same place, still presenting to the traveller itsastronomic hearth and its appetizing inscription. Coconnas and La Moleexpected to find the house in a desperate state, the widow in mourning,and the little ones wearing crepe on their arms; but to their greatastonishment they found the house in full swing of activity, Madame LaHuriere mightily resplendent, and the children gayer than ever.

  "Oh, the faithless creature!" cried La Mole; "she must have marriedagain."

  Then addressing the new Artemise:

  "Madame," said he, "we are two gentlemen, acquaintances of poor MonsieurLa Huriere. We left here two horses and two portmanteaus which we havecome to claim."

  "Gentlemen," replied the mistress of the house, after she had tried tobring them to her recollection, "as I have not the honor of knowing you,with your permission I will go and call my husband. Gregoire, ask yourmaster to come."

  Gregoire stepped from the first kitchen, which was the generalpandemonium, into the second, which was the laboratory where Maitre LaHuriere in his life-time had been in the habit of concocting the disheswhich he felt deserved to be prepared by his clever hands.

  "The devil take me," muttered Coconnas, "if it does not make me feelbadly to see this house so gay when it ought to be so melancholy. PoorLa Huriere!"

  "He tried to kill me," said La Mole, "but I pardon him with all myheart."

  La Mole had hardly uttered these words when a man appeared holding inhis hand a stew-pan, in the bottom of which he was browning some onions,stirring them with a wooden spoon.

  La Mole and Coconnas gave vent to a cry of amazement.

  As they did so the man lifted his head and, replying by a similar cry,dropped his stew-pan, retaining in his hand only his wooden spoon.

  _In nomine Patris_," said the man, waving his spoon as he would havedone with a holy-water sprinkler, "_et Filii, et Spiritus sancti_"--

  "Maitre La Huriere!" exclaimed the two young men.

  "Messieurs de Coconnas and de la Mole!" cried La Huriere.

  "So you are not dead?" asked Coconnas.

  "Why! can it be that you are alive?" asked the landlord.

  "Nevertheless, I saw you fall," said Coconnas, "I heard the crash of thebullet, which broke something in you, I don't know what. I left youlying in the gutter, with blood streaming out of your nose, out of yourmouth, and even out of your eyes."

  "All that is as true as the gospel, Monsieur de Coconnas. But the noiseyou heard was the bullet striking against my sallat, on whichfortunately it flattened itself; but the blow was none the less severe,and the proof of it," added La Huriere, lifting his cap and displaying apate as bald as a man's knee, "is that as you see I have not a spear ofhair left."

  The two young men burst out laughing when they saw his grotesqueappearance.

  "Aha! you laugh, do you?" said La Huriere, somewhat reassured, "you donot come, then, with any evil intentions."

  "Now tell us, Maitre La Huriere, are you entirely cured of yourbellicose inclinations?"

  "Faith, that I am, gentlemen; and now"--

  "Well, and now"--

  "Now I have vowed not to meddle with any other fire than that in mykitchen."

  "Bravo!" cried Coconnas, "see how prudent he is! Now," added thePiedmontese, "we left in your stables two horses, and in your rooms twoportmanteaus."

  "Oh, the devil!" replied the landlord, scratching his ear.

  "Well?"

  "Two horses, you say?"

  "Yes, in your stable."

  "And two portmanteaus?"

  "Yes, in the rooms we had."

  "The truth is, don't you see--you thought I was dead, didn't you?"

  "Certainly we did."

  "You will agree that as you were mistaken, I also might be."

  "What? In believing that we also were dead? You were perfectly free."

  "Now that's it. You see, as you died intestate," continued Maitre LaHuriere.

  "Go on"--

  "I believed something, I was mistaken, I see it now"--

  "Tell us, what was it you believed?"

  "I believed that I might consider myself your heir."

  "Oho!" exclaimed the two young men.

  "Nevertheless, I could not be more grateful to find that you are alive,gentlemen."

  "So you sold our horses, did you?" asked Coconnas.

  "Alas!" cried La Huriere.

  "And our portmanteaus?" insisted La Mole.


  "Oh! your portmanteaus? Oh, no," cried La Huriere, "only what was inthem."

  "Now look here, La Mole," persisted Coconnas, "it seems to me that thisis a bold rascal; suppose we disembowel him!"

  This threat seemed to have great effect on Maitre La Huriere, whostammered out these words:

  "Well, gentlemen, I rather think the affair can be arranged."

  "Listen!" said La Mole, "I am the one who has the greatest cause ofcomplaint against you."

  "Certainly, Monsieur le Comte, for I recollect that in a moment ofmadness I had the audacity to threaten you."

  "Yes, with a bullet which flew only a couple of inches above my head."

  "Do you think so?"

  "I am certain of it."

  "If you are certain of it, Monsieur de la Mole," said La Huriere,picking up his stew-pan with an innocent air, "I am too thoroughly atyour service to give you the lie."

  "Well," said La Mole, "as far as I am concerned I make no demand uponyou."

  "What, my dear gentleman"--

  "Except"--

  "Aie! aie!" groaned La Huriere.

  "Except a dinner for myself and my friends every time I find myself inyour neighborhood."

  "How is this?" exclaimed La Huriere in an ecstasy. "I am at yourservice, my dear gentleman; I am at your service."

  "So it is a bargain, is it?"

  "With all my heart--and you, Monsieur de Coconnas," continued thelandlord, "do you agree to the bargain?"

  "Yes; but, like my friend, I must add one small condition."

  "What is that?"

  "That you restore to Monsieur de la Mole the fifty crowns which I owehim, and which I put into your keeping."

  "To me, sir? When was that?"

  "A quarter of an hour before you sold my horse and my portmanteau."

  La Huriere showed that he understood.

  "Ah! I remember," said he; and he stepped toward a cupboard and took outfrom it, one after the other, fifty crowns, which he brought to La Mole.

  "Very well, sir," said that gentleman; "very well. Serve me an omelet.The fifty crowns are for Gregoire."

  "Oh!" cried La Huriere; "in truth, my dear gentlemen, you are genuineprinces, and you may count on me for life and for death."

  "If that is so," said Coconnas, "make us the omelet we want, and spareneither butter nor lard."

  Then looking at the clock,

  "Faith, you are right, La Mole," said he, "we still have three hours towait, and we may as well be here as anywhere else. All the more because,if I am not mistaken, we are already half way to the Pont Saint Michel."

  And the two young men went and sat down at table in the very same roomand at the very same place which they had occupied during that memorableevening of the twenty-sixth of August, 1572, when Coconnas had proposedto La Mole to play each against the other the first mistress which theyshould have!

  Let us grant for the honor of the morality of our two young men thatneither of them this evening had the least idea of making such aproposition to his companion.