Vayenne

by Percy James Brebner

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE VENGEANCE OF THE MOB

  By the carriage there was silence for a moment, but the more distantpart of the crowd was still shouting, and the music had not ceased toroll along the aisles of the great church.

  A laugh broke the silence.

  "A dozen men!" exclaimed Felix, "and we stand like fools. Quick, deBornais, shout a command! The delay need be only for a moment."

  But no word came from de Bornais, and without it his men did not move.

  "Are you afraid?" Felix cried. "Ho! men of Vayenne, to the rescue ofyour Duchess!"

  He tried to spring forward to lead the attack, but two of Herrick'scompanions seized him, and held him fast.

  But his words had their effect. Unarmed as it was, the crowd surgedtoward the carriage, sullen determination in its face, angrythreatening in its throat.

  "Curse you, de Bornais! Shout!" raged the Count, struggling to freehimself.

  Had de Bornais obeyed the command, it had gone hard with the littleband of men that surrounded Herrick. As it was, the sword pointsbarely kept the crowd in check. But no word came from de Bornais, yetit was difficult to believe that fear was behind that set face, thatthere was no daring in the man whose limbs showed no sign oftrembling. As repentance may come late to a man, so it seemed to cometo de Bornais. Every thought that had driven him forward in thisscheme, every word Father Bertrand had drummed into his ears, all wereforgotten in his admiration of the man before him. Treachery againsthim was of no avail. Right and Justice seemed to keep watch and wardbeside him. Better to stop here and now upon the path that consciencetold him he ought never to have walked in.

  Christine had not moved, the folds of her train still hung over thecarriage step just as the page in his sudden bewilderment had droppedthem. She had not taken her eyes from Herrick's face. She had spokenno word when he had said she was his prisoner. She was almostconscious of waiting for his next order, and knew that she would obeyit. This hateful marriage was not to be. The power to choose had beensuddenly wrested from her, and her heart beat out its gladness. Shehad forgotten the surging crowd behind her, but Felix's cry to deBornais had a meaning for her. She waited for de Bornais' quickcommand, knowing that, if it came, some impulse which she would not beable to control would force her to Herrick's side. It did not come. DeBornais stood still and silent, his head bowed, his arms loose-hangingby his side. There was danger; Christine saw it in the grim-set facesof the men about Herrick. They showed that they were men holding theirlives in their hands, ready to lose them in the defence of theirleader, to barter them freely for the lives of their enemies.

  The tension was at the breaking pitch, there wanted but a man in thecrowd to throw a stick or a stone, and the little band would have beenoverwhelmed, when from the distance came the shouts of "Long live theDuke!" The crowd heard them, wavered for a moment, and then turned,and began to struggle backward.

  "Mademoiselle, let me help you to your carriage," said Herrick."Yonder come the men who have fought with me upon the frontier. Theyshall make free passage for you to the castle."

  Her hand rested in his for a moment as she stepped into the carriage.He set free the folds of her dress carefully, and closed the door. Shedid not speak to thank him, but she lowered her head, and a tear fellsuddenly into her lap. Lucille saw it, and her hand went out to touchChristine's in silent sympathy; but it fell unnoticed by Herrick, whohad turned suddenly to Felix.

  The Count had made a last effort, and had shouted to stay thestruggling retreat of the crowd.

  "Would you leave your Duchess to her death? Strike, curs, strike!"

  "Silence, fool!" said Herrick. "Only very hardly shall I save you fromthe swift vengeance of these men who come. To cry against me will beyour death. Look! Are such men to be played with, think you?"

  On they came, forcing their way wedge-like through the crowd, whichburst aside from them to right and left, blows helping the pace of anywho were slow to move.

  "Lemasle, Mademoiselle returns to the castle," said Herrick. "See toit. A prisoner in her own rooms; none to have speech with her but hercompanion who is in the carriage."

  There were a few swift orders from the captain, instantly obeyed, andthen, surrounded by soldiers, Christine's carriage moved slowly away.

  "Briant, the Count and de Bornais are prisoners. Find safe ward forthem in the castle."

  "Traitors!" And there was no mistaking the temper of the soldiers whosurrounded them.

  "I said safe ward," Herrick commanded. "Safe ward in the castle.Pierre Briant, I hold you responsible for their safety."

  Briant saluted.

  "Be silent if you value life," Herrick said to the Count. "And you, deBornais, I trusted you."

  "I have betrayed the trust, sir."

  "And your men?"

  "Are now without a leader, sir."

  "They shall stay with me," Herrick returned, "and prove what honor isin them."

  Another sharp command, and the Count and de Bornais were marchedquickly away.

  "Your horse," said Herrick to one of de Bornais' men, who immediatelydismounted; and springing to the saddle Herrick gave orders that thecrowd should be dispersed in every quarter of the city. The men wereto march in different directions, but no violence was to be usedunless it was absolutely necessary.

  "The rabble will easily shout for us again now we have returned toVayenne." And with part of his force, Herrick started to ride throughthe city.

  "You have forgotten me, friend Roger," said Jean, who had slipped hisknife into its hiding-place beneath his tunic and now had his baublein his hand.

  "Another horse, there! Mount, friend Jean. If they shout for the Duke,they shall also shout for him who has helped the Duke to know thatlife is still worth the living. Forward!" And there was a joy inHerrick's voice that would seem to argue he had read in Christine'seyes something of what was in her heart.

  The mob, leaderless and without definite purpose, scattered in alldirections. Some there were who hastened to reach their homes asspeedily as possible. Some, hurrying away in gangs, and findingthemselves in some quiet quarter, safe from pursuit apparently, tookto plundering. The sight of a half-closed shop inflamed their desireto reap some profit for themselves before they dispersed, and theywere quick to follow any man who had the daring to lead the way. Thecries of those who were robbed, and the incapability of the rioters tokeep from quarrelling and shouting, soon attracted some of thesoldiers who were parading the city to restore order. Many of thesoldiers were in no humor to be lenient, and the slightest resistancemet with immediate retribution. Then were ugly blows struck, woundsgiven which would not heal for many a day; and here and there somepersistent rioter paid for his temerity with his life. It was a casein which violence was necessary, the soldiers argued, and they hadmerely fulfilled the Duke's commands.

  A section of the mob showed a different spirit. They had shoutedHerrick's name as he rode through the streets, and his lip had curvedscornfully at the fickleness of the rabble. Not an hour since theshouts had been for his enemies. Fickle they were, but perhaps withmore reason than appeared on the surface. Herrick's presence, and thesight of the soldiers in the streets brought to sudden remembrancewhat had been accomplished upon the frontier. There might be a doubtwho lawfully should rule in Montvilliers, but this man had saved thecountry from invasion. So they shouted for him, and for the soldierswho had returned victorious. It was easy for them to imaginethemselves on the side of order; they became anxious to help thesoldiers, and were loud in their praises of them. To some of thesoldiers such praise was not displeasing; besides, many of them hadfriends in the crowd, relations some of them. There were no rioters todisperse here, only a friendly and loyal crowd surrounded them. Hereand there an open tavern door was suggestive, and the health of thebrave heroes was drunk. So it chanced that certain of the soldiersbecame absorbed by the crowd, became virtually their leaders. Suchmen, loud in their praises of the Duke, set the crowd about themthinking of the Duke's enemies. Th
e traitors ought to suffer. Why notsince they were enemies? But Count Felix and de Bornais were safewithin the walls of the castle, and where was there an enemy of whoman example might be made?

  Who first mentioned the Rue St. Romain no one knew, but in a momentthe name of Father Bertrand was being repeated with eager excitement.He had crowned Duke Roger, and even then he must have been a traitorin his heart. Some discovered suddenly that he had been a plague tothe city for years. One man, whether speaking out of his imagination,or because some chance word had reached his ears, declared that thepriest would have sold the country to her enemies had he been able todo so. At this there was a hiss of rage, and a purpose seemed to comeinto the heart of every man.

  "Ay, Duke Roger said there were vipers in Vayenne, and we had come tocrush them," a soldier cried, and his words stirred the smoulderingfire into flame.

  "The Rue St. Romain!" was the quick answer. "Down with the priest!"

  Into the quiet street poured the crowd. Justice was theirs, theyargued, the Duke's will was their mandate, yet they went quietly, lestthey might be robbed of their prey.

  One knocked at the door, but there was no answer. No cassocked figureopened it. A dozen men hammered at it. Still no answer.

  "Open it, or we break it down!" was the cry.

  The man in the cassock rushed up the stairs calling "Mercier!Mercier!"

  "What is it?"

  "A crowd is at the door angrily demanding admittance. There is murderin their eyes."

  For a moment Mercier stood irresolute at the top of the stairs, whilehammering again sounded on the door. He knew nothing of what hadhappened. He had heard the distant shoutings, but had attributed themto another cause.

  "In the name of the Duke, open!" came the shout from the crowdwithout.

  "He has come back!" Mercier exclaimed, and then turning to hiscompanion he went on: "Quick! we can leave by the back way. Few knowof it. The Duke is in Vayenne. Find him. Tell him what the crowd isdoing. They use his name, but I dare swear he set them to no such taskas this. Come! They are breaking the door. Run quickly and inquire asyou go. Hundreds will surely know where the Duke is to be found."

  As Mercier slipped out of this back entrance which opened into analley and so into a street beyond, the crowd broke open the door, andrushed into the house.

  "Down with the priest!" they shouted. Some burst into this room, someinto that, their passion let loose as the waters from a dam. At firstthey did not stay to plunder and break, they were too intent onfinding the priest; but when every room had been entered and foundempty, their rage found vent in spoliation. Some of them had known theroom on the ground floor with its ascetic simplicity. Had they notoften said that the priest lived no better, in no more comfort, thanthe poorest among them? The room on the first floor was a revelationto them. Was it not a further proof of the villainy of the priest?

  "Curse him!" cried a man as he sent his stick through one of thepictures. In a moment they had taken the action as an example, and theroom was wrecked. The whole house was wrecked from roof to cellar,windows smashed, doors torn from their hinges, the stairs broken, evenpart of the walls and floors and ceilings were hacked to pieces. Mightthere not be some hiding hole, behind the walls or under the floors,where the priest had crept?

  "Where is he?" asked one. There had come a pause, for the wreckage wascomplete.

  "The church! St. Etienne!" came the answer.

  "Is he to find sanctuary there?"

  The question was asked fiercely, and none answered it, but one ideaseemed to impel each one of them to reach the street as soon aspossible, and immediately they were struggling toward the door.

  Meanwhile a man ran quickly through the city, and ever and anon hepaused to ask: "Where is the Duke?" Some answered him by questions,some pointed to the way they had seen the Duke take only a littlewhile ago, some shouted out directions after him. He found Herrickafter a long search returning from the Place Beauvoisin. Herrick hadheard that Countess Elisabeth was confined in the gate tower, and hehad at once had the horses put to her carriage and seen that she wassafely conveyed home again.

  The man in the cassock ran panting to his side, and in a few wordstold his story.

  "They broke in as I left, sir."

  Herrick stayed to hear no more. Part of the crowd were using his nameas an excuse for plunder, for murder perhaps; and in another moment hewas leading his men quickly in the direction of the Rue St. Romain.

  There had been consternation in St. Etienne at the sudden interruptionof the wedding, but the real cause was not known at first. As thewhisper that the Duke had returned and had arrested both Mademoisellede Liancourt and the Count became a certainty, the congregation leftquickly.

  Father Bertrand stood motionless by the altar. He stood alone therefor a few moments after the last person had gone. Then he returnedslowly to the sacristy, unrobed, and gave orders that all the doors ofthe church should be shut. It was the church he thought of, there wasno thought of his personal safety. Nor was it fear that made himremain in the sacristy. The Countess Elisabeth had said that he didnot bear upon him the mark of an honest man, but she had only seenpart of the schemer, she knew nothing of the priest. His ways may havebeen narrow, cramped by the very work he had been called upon toaccomplish, but according to the light that was in him, he was anhonest man and a brave one. He had been called to fight in oneparticular direction for the church he loved, and he had allowednothing to turn him from the thing he had set out to perform. Weremany men as honest as this? for, truly had Father Bertrand said thatpersonal honor lay along a different road. Now all his schemes wereruined. His work in Vayenne was over, the end not attained. He hadfailed. It was a broken man who sat leaning slightly forward in hischair in the sacristy.

  The sacristy opened into a cloister, and so into a street at the eastend of the church. This way came Mercier.

  "Fly, father, fly. There is yet time," he said.

  "Whither, my son?"

  "They are seeking you," panted Mercier. "They have broken into yourhouse. They will wreck it, and not finding you, will come here,father."

  "I do not hide. When they come they shall find me."

  "It means death," Mercier said in a hoarse whisper. "Hide for a littlewhile. I have already sent to find the Duke. Surely this is not doneby his command?"

  "Failure to the man who plays for high stakes often means death,Mercier," the priest answered. "We have failed, and I do not shirk thepenalty. Indeed, is there anything left but death for me?"

  "The Duke will be merciful," pleaded Mercier.

  "I look for no man's mercy. My conscience is clear. But for you,Mercier, there is danger, too; we must not forget that. Hasten. Makeyour peace quickly with the Duke. You were but a tool. They will notseek to break the tool, once they have crushed the hand that held it."

  "Come, father, there is yet time."

  "Go quickly, Mercier. Listen! They are shouting in the street. Go, Isay. I would be alone." And he put his hands on Mercier's shoulders,and gently pushed him from the sacristy. "Go, and peace be with you."

  The crowd were not at the door of the sacristy, but at one of thelarger doors which opened into the Rue St. Romain: Father Bertrandpassed into the church. For a few moments he knelt before the altar ina side chapel, and then he went with firm steps toward this door.

  Long ago the crowd had lost all self-control. The spoliation of thepriest's house had but inflamed their appetite for further violence.The door of the house had been locked against them, and they hadbroken it down and done their will; was the closed door of the churchto stop them from wreaking their vengeance upon the priest? So theyhammered upon the door, crying aloud for their prey.

  "Break it down!" shouted those behind, some of the men who weresuperstitious in their sober state, and had a reverence for sacredthings. All reverence, all superstition was forgotten. They would killthe priest, but they were unlikely to stop at this. All control wasgone, every restraint loosened. To wreck and spoil had become fiercejoy.
What mad delight it would be to wreck St. Etienne!

  Suddenly the door was flung open from within, and Father Bertrand witharms outstretched stood upon the step.

  "Who are they that thus insult the House of God?" he cried in a loudvoice.

  For an instant the crowd fell back before the commanding figure. Butbehind, the crowd surged and shouted, as though they struggled to getto the front.

  "False priest! Betrayer of his country! Traitor."

  The cries were sharp and fierce, and then one man, a soldier, sprangforward, and struck twice at the priest's breast. For an instant heswayed, his arms flung upward, the fingers wide outspread, and thenhe fell prone across the threshold. But there was no forward rush intothe church. The body of the murdered priest guarded it. That was abarrier they dared not pass.

  Nor was it those at the back of the crowd seeking to press forward tothe front which caused the surging and shouting there; it was Herrickand his men fighting their way to the priest's rescue. Even as the manstepped back after striking the second blow, Herrick was upon him, andcut him down.

  Silence fell suddenly upon the crowd, and then another soldier who hadbeen leading the mob pointed to his dead comrade; and said:

  "Sir, is that justice? Did you not say that there were vipers inVayenne that must be crushed?"