Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  The prelate said many more admirable things, now measuring and grading his utterances of grace and mercy according as the storm receded and subsided, just as, at its approach, he modulated his threatening words. The skilful man closed his conjuration to the roll of the receding thunder— “the last rumblings,” he said “of the Eternal’s angered voice,” finally appeased by his prayers. Soon thereupon the sky cleared; the clouds dispersed, the sun shone anew in all its pristine splendor; and the royal cortege, now again as serene as the sky, resumed their tramp towards the burg of Neroweg singing at the top of their voices:

  “Glory, eternal glory to the Lord!”

  “Glory, glory, our blessed bishop!”

  “Hosanna! Gloria in excelsis Deo!”

  “The Lord miraculously turned from us the angry fire of heaven!”

  “The impious man bowed down his rebellious head!”

  “Glory! Glory to the Lord!”

  CHAPTER V.

  IN THE TREASURE CHAMBER.

  WHILE THE SLAVES of Chram were busy leading the horses to the stables, and placing the loaded carts and the saddles under the shelter of a broad shed that served for cover to large stocks of hay, the royal leudes ate and drank with the appetite and thirst of men who were on the road since early morn. Having, together with his three favorites, done honor to the count’s repast, Chram said to Neroweg:

  “Take me to a place where we can talk privately. You surely have some secret chamber where you keep your treasure — let us closet ourselves there.”

  Neroweg seemed in no haste to comply. Doubtlessly he was not over-anxious to introduce the son of his King into the secret retreat. Noticing the count’s hesitation, Chram proceeded to say:

  “If there is another apartment in your burg that is more secluded than your treasure chamber, it will suit me better. Your wife’s chamber, perhaps? Let us go there.”

  “No — no. Come to my treasure chamber. But first wait till I have issued the necessary orders so that your people may not want for anything and the horses be properly tended.”

  Saying this Neroweg took one of his leudes aside and whispered to him:

  “Ansowald, you and Bertefred will arm yourselves well and remain near the door of the apartment into which I am to go with Chram. Hold yourselves in readiness to run in at my first call.”

  “What do you fear, seigneur count?”

  “The family of Clovis has a strong liking for other people’s goods. Although my coffers are under triple locks and ribbed with iron, I like to feel that you and Bertefred are ready at the door with your hands on your swords.”

  “We shall do as you bid us.”

  “Order Rigomer and Bertechram to hold themselves equally well armed at the door of the women’s apartment. Let them strike without mercy whomsoever should attempt to introduce himself into Godegisele’s chamber. Let them immediately give the alarm. I mistrust the Lion of Poitiers. Neither do I take the other two favorites of Chram to be less pagan or less dissolute than the wild lion himself. I hold them capable of anything — just as their royal master. Did you count the number of armed men in Chram’s suite?”

  “He brought in only one-half of his leudes — his antrustions, as the haughty crew style themselves. They look down with contempt upon us because they are pursuivants of a King.”

  “Shortly ago as they were at table,” put in Bertechram, “they affected to eat with disgust and they examined the bottom of the pots as if to make sure that they were clean. They do not cease sneering at our earthen and tin wares — especially at our kitchen utensils.”

  “I know — I know — they want to drive me to exhibit my gold and silver wares, many a piece of which they will purloin. But I am on my guard.”

  “Neroweg, blood may yet flow before evening if the insolent fellows do not desist from their impertinencies. Our patience is near the end of its tether.”

  “Fortunately, however, we, your faithful leudes, together with the footmen and the slaves whom we can safely arm, are as numerous as the men who compose the escort of Chram.”

  “Come, come, my good companions; do not heat yourselves, my friends. If any quarrels should break out at table, dishes will be broken, and they will have to be replaced. We must bear that in mind.”

  “Neroweg, honor is before dishes — even if the dish be of gold or silver.”

  “Certainly, but it is unnecessary to provoke a quarrel. Keep yourselves on your guard, and see to it that watch is kept at the door of the women’s apartment — hand on sword.”

  “It will be done as you order.”

  A moment later Prince Chram and the count found themselves alone in the latter’s treasure room. They were engaged in an important and serious conference.

  “Count, how much are the treasures worth that are locked in these coffers?”

  “Oh, they do not contain much — they are large on the principle that it is always well to be provided with a large pot and a big coffer, as we say in Germany, but they are almost empty.”

  “So much the worse, count. I wished to double, triple and even quadruple the value of their contents.”

  “Are you jesting?”

  “Count, I desire to increase your power and wealth beyond even your hopes. I swear as much by the indivisible Trinity.”

  “I then believe you. After this morning’s miracle, you would not dare to risk drawing upon my house the fire of heaven, by taking so redoubtable an oath in vain. But what is your reason for wishing to add so greatly to my power and wealth?”

  “Because I have a personal interest in so doing.”

  “You convince me.”

  “Would you like to have domains as vast as those of a King’s son?”

  “I surely would.”

  “Would you like to have, instead of those half empty coffers, a hundred others bursting with gold, precious stones, vases, goblets, bowls, armors and costly fabrics?”

  “Certainly I would.”

  “Would you, instead of being count of a city in Auvergne, govern a whole province — in short, be as rich and powerful as you could wish?”

  “By the indivisible Trinity, are you serious? Explain yourself; I drink in your words.”

  “I swear to you by the Almighty God.”

  “Do you also swear by the great St. Martin, my patron saint?”

  “I swear it also by the great St. Martin that my tender is serious.”

  “Well, then, to the point. What is your project?”

  “At this hour my father Clotaire is outside of Gaul warring against the Saxons. I propose to profit by his absence and make myself King in the place of my father. Several counts and dukes of the neighborhood have entered into the conspiracy. Will you be with or against me?”

  “And what about your brothers, Charibert, Gontran, Chilperic and Sigebert? Will they leave your father’s kingdom to you alone?”

  “I shall have all my brothers killed.”

  “Clovis, your grandfather, as well as his sons, all rid themselves of their nearest relatives in the same fashion. You would be proceeding according to the traditions of your house.”

  “Answer, count; will you pledge yourself by a sacred oath to combat on my side at the head of your men? If you will, then, by an equal oath, I shall pledge myself to make you duke of whatever province you may choose, and to relinquish to you the goods, treasures, slaves and domains of the richest seigneurs who may have sided with my father against me.”

  “What you demand of me, if I understand you rightly, is that I pledge myself, in my own name and the name of my leudes and pursuivants, to obey your mouth, as we express it in Germany?”

  “Yes, that is my demand.”

  “But what fate do you reserve for your father?”

  “His own bodyguard came near cutting him to pieces just before the war with the Saxons. Are you aware of that?”

  “Such a rumor did reach us.”

  “Well, then, my plan is to have my brothers killed; to declare that my father died in th
e war with the Saxons; and then to pronounce myself King of Gaul in his place.”

  “But when he returns from Saxony with his army, what will you do then?”

  “I shall take the field against him at the head of my leudes, and I shall kill him — just as he killed his nephews.”

  “I am thinking of what may happen to me. If in the war with your father you go down, and I am found mixed up in the affair — it will go ill with me. I would then be stripped as a traitor of all the lands that I hold in benefice, only my salic lands would be left to me.”

  “Do you expect to win in a game without taking any risks?”

  “I would much prefer that! But listen, Chram. Let the counts and dukes of Poitou, Limousin and Anjou take your side against your father, then I and my leudes will obey your mouth. But I shall not openly declare myself in your favor until the others shall have first taken up arms openly.”

  “You wish to play a safe game.”

  “Yes, I wish to risk little and gain much — I sincerely admit it.”

  “Very well — then let us exchange pledges.”

  “Wait a moment, King; we shall swear upon a sacred relic.”

  “What are you doing? Why open that coffer? Leave the lid up so that I may see your treasures. By my royal hair, I never in my life have seen a more magnificent Bible case than this!” exclaimed Chram as Neroweg lifted the precious Bible case from the coffer. “It is all gold, rubies, pearls and carbuncles. From what pillage did you get that?”

  “In a city of Touraine. The gospels within are all written out in gold letters.”

  “The case is superb. I am dazzled by it.”

  “King, we shall take our pledge upon these gospels.”

  “I consent. Well, then, upon these holy Gospels, I, Chram, son of Clotaire, swear by the indivisible Trinity and by the great St. Martin, and according to the formula consecrated in Germany, that, ‘if you, Neroweg, count of the city of Clermont in Auvergne, yourself and your leudes, who once stood on the side of the King, my father, will now come over to the side of me, Chram, who propose to constitute myself King over you, and that if I do so constitute myself, I shall make you duke of some great province of your own choice, and shall give you the domains, houses, slaves and treasures of the richest of the seigneurs who may have stood by my father and against me. Amen.’”

  “And I, Neroweg, count of the city of Clermont in Auvergne, swear on these Gospels, by the indivisible Trinity and the great St. Martin, that if the counts and dukes of Poitou, Limousin and Anjou, instead of continuing as heretofore on the side of your father, openly go over to your side, and in arms, for the purpose of establishing you, Chram, as King over them, then I together with my men, will do likewise in order that you may be established King over us. And may I be consigned to the eternal fires if I fail in my oath! Amen.”

  “And may I, Chram, be consigned to the eternal fires if I fail in my oath! It is sworn before God.”

  “It is sworn before the great St. Martin.”

  “And now, count, allow me to examine this magnificent Bible case. Count, I have never seen anyone comparable with you for the quickness with which you open and close a coffer. Our oath now binds us together, and I can speak to you plainly. The first thing that I now have to do is to rid myself of my four brothers, Gontran, Sigebert, Chilperic and Charibert.”

  “The glorious Clovis, your grandfather, always proceeded in that fashion when he thought proper to join some new kingdom or other heritage to his possessions. He always killed first and seized afterwards. He then had no adversary to combat.”

  “My father Clotaire has also been of that opinion. He began by killing the children of his brother Clodomir, whereupon he seized their heritage.”

  “Others, like your uncle Theodorik, on the contrary, seized first, and then sought to kill — that was unskilful. A corpse is more easily plundered than a live body.”

  “Count, you are endowed with the wisdom of a Solomon; but I can not kill my brothers myself. Two of them are very strong men, while I am rather feeble and worn out. Moreover, they will not willingly furnish me with the opportunity. They mistrust me. I have fixed upon three determined men to commit the murders; they are men that I can reckon with. I need a fourth.”

  “Where shall we find him?”

  “Here — in the country of Auvergne.”

  “In my burg?”

  “Yes; perhaps in your own house.”

  “What!”

  “Do you know the reason why Bishop Cautin has been anxious to accompany me to this place?”

  “I do not.”

  “It is that the bishop is in great hurry to try, sentence and witness the execution of the Vagres and their accomplices who are held prisoners in the ergastula of this burg — above all because he wishes to witness the execution of the bishopess.”

  “I still do not understand you, Chram. The two criminals, together with the women who are their accomplices, are to be taken to Clermont, so soon as they shall have recovered from their wounds, to be tried there by the curia.”

  “According to the reliable rumors that have reached us, the bishop fears, and not without good reason, that the populace of Clermont may rise in revolt in order to set the bandits free the moment they arrive in the city of Clermont. The names of the hermit laborer and Ronan the Vagre are dear to the race of slaves and vagabonds. It would be just like them to raise a riot and seek to set the bandits free — while here, at the burg, nothing of the sort need be feared.”

  “Such an uprising would be serious.”

  “I promised Bishop Cautin that, if you consent, then I, Chram, now King in Auvergne in my father’s name, shall issue orders that the criminals be tried, sentenced and executed here at this burg, before your own justiciary mahl.”

  “If my good father Cautin thinks so, I shall accept his opinion. I am as desirous as himself to witness the execution of those bandits, and I would sooner give twenty gold sous than see them escape death, a thing that, as you say, might happen if they are taken to Clermont and the vile population of the city should rise in their favor. But what has this to do with the murder of your brothers?”

  “Is Ronan the Vagre healed of his wounds? I understand he is. He has the reputation of being a resolute bandit.”

  “He is a demon — a prop of hell.”

  “Suppose that after that demon shall have been sentenced to some frightful death he were told: ‘You shall have grace, you shall be set free, but upon condition that you kill a certain person — after the murder is committed you will receive twenty gold sous for your reward’ — do you think he would refuse such an offer?”

  “Chram, that devil of a Ronan and his band killed nine of my bravest leudes; they pillaged and set fire to the episcopal villa and the place is to be rebuilt at my expense. As sure as the great St. Martin is in paradise, the cursed Vagre shall not be set free, he shall not escape the death that his crimes deserve!”

  “Who says otherwise?”

  “You speak of granting him grace.”

  “But after he shall have committed the murder, then, instead of counting out twenty gold sous to the Vagre, twenty blows with an iron bar will be counted out on his back, after which he can be quartered or otherwise disposed of in short order. Ah, that seems to amuse you.”

  “I laugh because it reminds me of the swindling baldrics and necklaces with which your grandfather Clovis one day rewarded his accomplices after they dispatched the two Ragnacaires. The Vagre will return in order to receive the twenty gold sous promised to him, instead of which a hundred blows will be bestowed upon him with an iron bar.”

  “Determined men are rare. If the Vagre carries his part of the affair to a successful issue, then my four brothers will be dead before the week is over — their death insures the success of my projects. It is to your interest as well as mine that we avail ourselves of the Vagre. So it is understood that you will spare his life.”

  “But what about the bishop, who has come to enjoy the sight
of the bandit’s death? He will not consent to let the fellow free.”

  “Cautin will console himself over the Vagre’s escape by seeing the bishopess roast, and the hermit-laborer hang.”

  “But suppose the Vagre promises to commit the murder but fails in carrying out his part of the bargain?”

  “And the twenty gold sous that he will surely expect to receive after the murder is committed?”

  “You are right — his cupidity will drive him to the deed and insure his return. But how is his flight to be connived at?”

  “You can convene your mahl within two hours. The culprits can be tried and sentenced at one session.”

  “Yes, that can all be done.”

  “To-day the trial and sentence — to-morrow the execution. Between now and to-morrow we have the night left. You will have the Vagre led out of the ergastula after dark, and taken to Spatachair, one of my favorites. Leave the rest to me. To-morrow we shall say to the bishop: ‘The Vagre has fled’ — why do you laugh, Count Neroweg?”

  “At that Vagre who will be thinking that he is to gain twenty gold sous, and who will receive instead a hundred blows with an iron bar, and then be quartered.”

  “As you see, count, your vengeance will lose nothing by the arrangement, while it will insure the success of our plans. Unless I could speedily find a fourth determined man, as the Vagre, there would always be a brother left who might lay claim to my father’s kingdom. Answer, are we agreed upon the Vagre’s flight?”

  “Yes, yes — we are agreed.”

  “Accordingly your mahl is to be convened within two hours in order to proceed to the trial.”

  “Within two hours it will be in session.”

  “Adieu, Neroweg, count of the city of Clermont — but duke to be of Touraine, and one of the richest and most powerful seigneurs, made such by the friendship of Chram, King of all Gaul, after the death of his father and all his brothers! Adieu!”

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE BEAR OF MONT-DORE.

  THE SUN IS sinking behind the western mountain range. Night is approaching. A man, grey of hair and beard and of about fifty-eight to sixty years of age, but still as alert and vigorous as at the springtide of life, clad in a Gallic blouse, a wallet over his shoulder, a fur cap on his head, and travel-stained shoes, issues from the forest. He is on the road that leads to the burg of Count Neroweg. The appearance of the grey-bearded man suggests a mountebank, one of the class that travels from city to city and village to village exhibiting trained animals. On his back he carries a cage with a monkey and, held to a long iron chain, he leads a large-sized bear, that, however, seems to be a peaceful traveling companion. He follows his master with as much docility as a dog. The mountebank stops for a moment at an elevated part of the mountainous road from where the plain and the hill on which the burg is built can be seen. Two slaves with shaven heads, and bending under the weight of a heavy load which they carry suspended from an oar the ends of which rest on their shoulders, appear in view. They are proceeding along a path, which, a few paces ahead of him, runs into the road on which the mountebank is walking. He hastens his steps in order to fall in with the slaves, but these, frightened at the sight of the bear wabbling behind his master, suddenly stop short.