CHAPTER V. REVENGE
And full of black rage! Had she only reproached me, or, turning on me inthe hour of MY victory, said all that she had now said in the momentof her own, I could have borne it. She might have shamed me then, and Imight have taken the shame to myself and forgiven her. But, as it was,I stood there in the gathering dusk, between the darkening hedges,baffled, tricked, defeated! And by a woman! She had pitted her witsagainst mine, her woman's will against my experience, and she had comeoff the victor. And then she had reviled me! As I took it all in, andbegan to comprehend also the more remote results, and how completely hermove had made further progress on my part impossible, I hated her. Shehad tricked me with her gracious ways and her slow-coming smile. And,after all--for what she had said--it was this man's life or mine. 'Whathad I done that another man would not do? MON DIEU! in the future therewas nothing I would not do. I would make her smart for those words ofhers! I would bring her to her knees!
Still, hot as I was, an hour might have restored me to coolness. Butwhen I started to return, I fell into a fresh rage, for I rememberedthat I did not know my way out of the maze of rides and paths into whichshe had drawn me; and this and the mishaps which followed, kept my ragehot. For a full hour I wandered in the wood, unable, though I knewwhere the village lay, to find any track which led continuously in onedirection. Whenever, at the end of each attempt, the thicket brought meup short, I fancied that I heard her laughing on the farther side of thebrake; and the ignominy of this chance punishment, and the check whichthe confinement placed on my rage, almost maddened me. In the darkness Ifell, and rose cursing; I tore my hands with thorns; I stained my suit,which had suffered sadly once before. At length, when I had almostresigned myself to lie in the wood, I caught sight of the lights of thevillage, and, trembling between haste and anger, pressed towards them.In a few minutes I stood in the little street.
The lights of the inn shone only fifty yards away; but before I couldshow myself even there pride suggested that I should do something torepair my clothes. I stopped, and scraped and brushed them; and, at thesame time, did what I could to compose my features. Then I advanced tothe door and knocked. Almost on the instant the landlord's voice criedfrom the inside, 'Enter, Monsieur!'
I raised the latch and went in. The man was alone, squatting over thefire warming his hands. A black pot simmered on the ashes, As I enteredhe raised the lid and peeped inside. Then he glanced over his shoulder.
'You expected me?' I said defiantly, walking to the hearth, and settingone of my damp boots on the logs.
'Yes,' he answered, nodding curtly. 'Your supper is just ready. Ithought that you would be in about this time.'
He grinned as he spoke, and it was with difficulty I suppressed mywrath.
'Mademoiselle de Cocheforet told you,' I said, affecting indifference,'where I was?'
'Ay, Mademoiselle--or Madame,' he replied, grinning afresh.
So she had told him; where she had left me, and how she had tricked me!She had, made me the village laughing-stock! My rage flashed out afreshat the thought, and, at the sight of his mocking face, I raised my fist.
But he read the threat in my eyes, and was up in a moment, snarling,with his hand on his knife.
'Not again, Monsieur!' he cried, in his vile patois. 'My head is sorestill raise your hand and I will rip you up as I would a pig!'
'Sit down, fool,' I said. 'I am not going to harm you. Where is yourwife?'
'About her business.'
'Which should be getting my supper,' I retorted.
He rose sullenly, and, fetching a platter, poured the mess of broth andvegetables into it. Then he went to a cupboard and brought out a loaf ofblack bread and a measure of wine, and set them also on the table.
'You see it,' he said laconically.
'And a poor welcome!' I replied.
He flamed into sudden passion at that. Leaning with both his hands onthe table he thrust his rugged face and blood-shot eyes close to mine.His moustachios bristled, his beard trembled.
'Hark ye, sirrah!' he muttered, with sullen emphasis, 'be content! Ihave my suspicions. And if it were not for my lady's orders I wouldput a knife into you, fair or foul, this very night. You would liesnug outside, instead of inside, and I do not think anyone would be theworse. But as it is, be content. Keep a still tongue; and when you turnyour back on Cocheforet to-morrow keep it turned.'
'Tut! tut!' I said--but I confess that I was a little out ofcountenance. 'Threatened men live long, you rascal!'
'In Paris!' he answered significantly. 'Not here, Monsieur.'
He straightened himself with that, nodded once, and went back to thefire; and I shrugged my shoulders and began to eat, affecting to forgethis presence. The logs on the hearth burned sullenly, and gave no light.The poor oil-lamp, casting weird shadows from wall to wall, served onlyto discover the darkness. The room, with its low roof and earthen floor,and foul clothes flung here and there, reeked of stale meals and garlicand vile cooking. I thought of the parlour at Cocheforet, and the daintytable, and the stillness, and the scented pot-herbs; and though I wastoo old a soldier to eat the worse because my spoon lacked washing, Ifelt the change, and laid it savagely at Mademoiselle's door.
The landlord, watching me stealthily from his place by the hearth, readmy thoughts and chuckled aloud.
'Palace fare, palace manners!' he muttered scornfully. 'Set a beggar onhorseback, and he will ride--back to the inn!'
'Keep a civil tongue, will you!' I answered, scowling at him.
'Have you finished?' he retorted.
I rose, without deigning to reply, and, going to the fire, drew off myboots, which were wet through. He, on the instant, swept off the wineand loaf to the cupboard, and then, coming back for the platter I hadused, took it, opened the back door, and went out, leaving the doorajar. The draught which came in beat the flame of the lamp this way andthat, and gave the dingy, gloomy room an air still more miserable. Irose angrily from the fire, and went to the door, intending to close itwith a bang.
But when I reached it, I saw something, between door and jamb, whichstayed my hand. The door led to a shed in which the housewife washedpots and the like. I felt some surprise, therefore, when I found a lightthere at this time of night; still more surprise when I saw what she wasdoing.
She was seated on the mud floor, with a rush-light before her, and oneither side of her a high-piled heap of refuse and rubbish. From oneof these, at the moment I caught sight of her, she was sortingthings--horrible filthy sweepings of road or floor--to the other;shaking and sifting each article as she passed it across, and thentaking up another and repeating the action with it, and so on--allminutely, warily, with an air of so much patience and persistence that Istood wondering. Some things--rags--she held up between her eyes andthe light, some she passed through her fingers, some she fairly torein pieces. And all the time her husband stood watching her greedily, myplatter still in his hand, as if her strange occupation fascinated him.
I stood looking, also, for half a minute, perhaps; then the man'seye, raised for a single second to the door-way, met mine. He started,muttered something to his wife, and, quick as thought, he kickedthe light out, leaving the shed in darkness. Cursing him for anill-conditioned fellow, I walked back to the fire, laughing. In atwinkling he followed me, his face dark with rage. 'VENTRE-SAINT-GRIS!'he exclaimed, thrusting himself close to me. 'Is not a man's house hisown?'
'It is, for me,' I answered coolly, shrugging my shoulders. 'Andhis wife: if she likes to pick dirty rags at this hour, that is youraffair.'
'Pig of a spy!' he cried, foaming with rage.
I was angry enough at bottom, but I had nothing to gain by quarrellingwith the fellow; and I curtly bade him remember himself.
'Your mistress gave you orders,' I said contemptuously. 'Obey them.'
He spat on the floor, but at the same time he grew calmer.
'You are right there,' he answered spitefully. 'What matter, after all,since you leave to-morrow at six? You
r horse has been sent down, andyour baggage is above.'
'I will go to it,' I retorted. 'I want none of your company. Give me alight, fellow!'
He obeyed reluctantly, and, glad to turn my back on him, I went up theladder, still wondering faintly, in the midst of my annoyance, what hiswife was about that my chance detection of her had so enraged him. Evennow he was not quite himself. He followed me with abuse, and, deprivedby my departure of any other means of showing his spite, fell toshouting through the floor, bidding me remember six o'clock, and bestirring; with other taunts, which did not cease until he had tiredhimself out.
The sight of my belongings--which I had left a few hours before at theChateau--strewn about the floor of this garret, went some way towardsfiring me again. But I was worn out. The indignities and mishaps of theevening had, for once, crushed my spirit, and after swearing an oath ortwo I began to pack my bags. Vengeance I would have; but the time andmanner I left for daylight thought. Beyond six o'clock in the morning Idid not look forward; and if I longed for anything it was for a littleof the good Armagnac I had wasted on those louts of merchants in thekitchen below. It might have done me good now.
I had wearily strapped up one bag, and nearly filled the other, when Icame upon something which did, for the moment, rouse the devil in me.This was the tiny orange-coloured sachet which Mademoiselle had droppedthe night I first saw her at the inn, and which, it will be remembered,I picked up. Since that night I had not seen it, and had as good asforgotten it. Now, as I folded up my other doublet, the one I had thenbeen wearing, it dropped from my pocket.
The sight of it recalled all--that night, and Mademoiselle's face in thelantern light, and my fine plans, and the end of them; and, in a fit ofchildish fury, the outcome of long suppressed passion, I snatched upthe sachet from the floor and tore it across and across, and flung thepieces down. As they fell, a cloud of fine pungent dust burst from them,and with the dust, something more solid, which tinkled sharply onthe boards, as it fell. I looked down to see what this was--perhaps Ialready repented of my act; but for a moment I could see nothing. Thefloor was grimy and uninviting, the light bad.
In certain moods, however, a man is obstinate about small things, and Imoved the taper nearer. As I did so a point of light, a flashing sparklethat shone for a second among the dirt and refuse on the floor, caughtmy eye. It was gone in a moment, but I had seen it. I stared, andmoved the light again, and the spark flashed out afresh, this time ina different place. Much puzzled, I knelt, and, in a twinkling, found atiny crystal. Hard by it lay another--and another; each as large asa fair-sized pea. I took up the three, and rose to my feet again, thelight in one hand, the crystals in the palm of the other.
They were diamonds! Diamonds of price! I knew it in a moment. As I movedthe taper to and fro above them, and watched the fire glow and tremblein their depths, I knew that I held in my hand that which would buy thecrazy inn and all its contents a dozen times over! They were diamonds!Gems so fine, and of so rare a water--or I had never seen gems--thatmy hand trembled as I held them, and my head grew hot and my heart beatfuriously. For a moment I thought that I dreamed, that my fancy playedme some trick; and I closed my eyes and did not open them again fora minute. But when I did, there they were, hard, real, and angular.Convinced at last, in a maze of joy and fear, I closed my hand uponthem, and, stealing on tip-toe to the trap-door, laid first my saddle onit and then my bags, and over all my cloak, breathing fast the while.
Then I stole back, and, taking up the light again, began to search thefloor, patiently, inch by inch, with naked feet, every sound makingme tremble as I crept hither and thither over the creaking boards. Andnever was search more successful or better paid. In the fragments of thesachet I found six smaller diamonds and a pair of rubies. Eight largediamonds I found on the floor. One, the largest and last found, hadbounded away, and lay against the wall in the farthest corner. It tookme an hour to run that one to earth; but afterwards I spent another houron my hands and knees before I gave up the search, and, satisfied atlast that I had collected all, sat down on my saddle on the trap-door,and, by the last flickering light of a candle which I had taken from mybag, gloated over my treasure--a treasure worthy of fabled Golconda.
Hardly could I believe in its reality, even now. Recalling the jewelswhich the English Duke of Buckingham wore on the occasion of his visitto Paris in 1625, and whereof there was so much talk, I took these tobe as fine, though less in number. They should be worth fifteen thousandcrowns, more or less. Fifteen thousand crowns! And I held them in thehollow of my hand--I, who was scarcely worth ten thousand sous.
The candle going out cut short my admiration. Left in the dark withthese precious atoms, my first thought was how I might dispose of themsafely; which I did, for the time, by secreting them in the lining of myboot. My second thought turned on the question how they had come where Ihad found them, among the powdered spice and perfumes in Mademoiselle deCocheforet's sachet.
A minute's reflection enabled me to come very near the secret, and atthe same time shed a flood of light on several dark places, What Clonhad been seeking on the path between the house and the village, what thegoodwife of the inn had sought among the sweepings of yard and floor,I knew now the sachet--knew, too, what had caused the marked and suddenanxiety I had noticed at the Chateau--the loss of this sachet.
And there for a while I came to a check But one step more up the ladderof thought brought all in view. In a flash I guessed how the jewels hadcome to be in the sachet; and that it was not Mademoiselle but M.de Cocheforet who had mislaid them. I thought this last discoveryso important that I began to pace the room softly, unable, in myexcitement, to remain still.
Doubtless he had dropped the jewels in the hurry of his start from theinn that night! Doubtless, too, he had carried them in that bizarrehiding-place for the sake of safety, considering it unlikely thatrobbers, if he fell into their hands, would take the sachet from him;as still less likely that they would suspect it to contain anythingof value. Everywhere it would pass for a love-gift, the work of hismistress.
Nor did my penetration stop there. I guessed that the gems were familyproperty, the last treasure of the house; and that M. de Cocheforet,when I saw him at the inn, was on his way to convey them out of thecountry; either to secure them from seizure by the Government, or toraise money by selling them--money to be spent in some last desperateenterprise. For a day or two, perhaps, after leaving Cocheforet, whilethe mountain road and its chances occupied his thoughts, he had notdiscovered his loss. Then he had searched for the precious sachet,missed it, and returned hot-foot on his tracks.
The longer I considered the circumstances the more certain I was thatI had hit on the true solution; and all that night I sat wakeful in thedarkness, pondering what I should do. The stones, unset as they were,could never be identified, never be claimed. The channel by which theyhad come to my hands could never be traced. To all intents they weremine; mine, to do with as I pleased! Fifteen thousand crowns, perhapstwenty thousand crowns, and I to leave at six in the morning, whether Iwould or no! I might leave for Spain with the jewels in my pocket. Whynot?
I confess I was tempted. And indeed the gems were so fine that I doubtnot some indifferently honest men would have sold salvation for them.But--a Berault his honour? No. I was tempted, I say; but not for long.Thank God, a man may be reduced to living by the fortunes of the dice,and may even be called by a woman 'spy' and 'coward,' without becoming athief! The temptation soon left me--I take credit for it--and I fell tothinking of this and that plan for making use of them. Once it occurredto me to take the jewels to the Cardinal and buy my pardon with them;again, to use them as a trap to capture Cocheforet; again, to--and then,about five in the morning, as I sat up on my wretched pallet, while thefirst light stole slowly in through the cobwebbed, hay-stuffed lattice,there came to me the real plan, the plan of plans, on which I acted.
It charmed me I smacked my lips over it, and hugged myself, and felt myeyes dilate in the darkness, as I conned it
. It seemed cruel, it seemedmean; I cared nothing. Mademoiselle had boasted of her victory over me,of her woman's wits and her acuteness and of my dullness. She had saidthat her grooms should flog me. She had rated me as if I had been a dog.Very well; we would see now whose brains were the better, whose was themaster mind, whose should be the whipping.
The one thing required by my plan was that I should get speech with her;that done, I could trust myself and my new-found weapon for the rest.But that was absolutely necessary, and, seeing that there might be somedifficulty about it, I determined to descend as if my mind were madeup to go; then, on pretence of saddling my horse, I would slip away onfoot, and lie in wait near the Chateau until I saw her come out. Or ifI could not effect my purpose in that way--either by reason of thelandlord's vigilance, or for any other cause--my course was still easy.I would ride away, and when I had proceeded a mile or so, tie up myhorse in the forest and return to the wooden bridge. Thence I couldwatch the garden and front of the Chateau until time and chance gave methe opportunity I sought.
So I saw my way quite clearly; and when the fellow below called me,reminding me rudely that I must be going, and that it was six o'clock,I was ready with my answer. I shouted sulkily that I was coming, and,after a decent delay, I took up my saddle and bags and went down.
Viewed by the light of a cold morning, the inn-room looked more smoky,more grimy, more wretched than when I had last seen it. The goodwife wasnot visible. The fire was not lighted. No provision, not so much as astirrup-cup or bowl of porridge cheered the heart.
I looked round, sniffing the stale smell of last night's lamp, andgrunted.
'Are you going to send me out fasting?' I said, affecting a worse humourthan I felt.
The landlord was standing by the window, stooping over a great pair offrayed and furrowed thigh-boots which he was labouring to soften withcopious grease.
'Mademoiselle ordered no breakfast,' he answered, with a malicious grin.
'Well it does not much matter,' I replied grandly. 'I shall be at Auchby noon.'
'That is as may be,' he answered with another grin.
I did not understand him, but I had something else to think about, and Iopened the door and stepped out, intending to go to the stable. Then ina second I comprehended. The cold air laden with woodland moisturemet me and went to my bones; but it was not that which made me shiver.Outside the door, in the road, sitting on horseback in silence, weretwo men. One was Clon. The other, who had a spare horse by therein--my horse--was a man I had seen at the inn, a rough, shock-headed,hard-bitten fellow. Both were armed, and Clon was booted. His mate rodebarefoot, with a rusty spur strapped to one heel.
The moment I saw them a sure and certain fear crept into my mind: it wasthat which made me shiver. But I did not speak to them. I went in againand closed the door behind me. The landlord was putting on his boots.
'What does this mean?' I said hoarsely--though I had a clear prescienceof what was coming. 'Why are these men here?'
'Orders,' he answered laconically.
'Whose orders?' I retorted.
'Whose?' he answered bluntly. 'Well, Monsieur, that is my business.Enough that we mean to see you out of the country, and out of harm'sway.'
'But if I will not go?' I cried.
'Monsieur will go,' he answered coolly. 'There are no strangers in thevillage to-day,' he added, with a significant smile.
'Do you mean to kidnap me?' I replied, in a rage.
But behind the rage was something else--I will not call it terror, forthe brave feel no terror but it was near akin to it. I had had to dowith rough men all my life, but there was a grimness and truculencein the aspect of these three that shook me. When I thought of the darkpaths and narrow lanes and cliff sides we must traverse, whichever roadwe took, I trembled.
'Kidnap you, Monsieur?' he answered, with an every-day air. 'That isas you please to call it. One thing is certain, however,' he continued,maliciously touching an arquebuss which he had brought out, and setupright against a chair while I was at the door; if you attempt theslightest resistance, we shall know how to put an end to it, either hereor on the road.'
I drew a deep breath, the very imminence of the danger restoring me tothe use of my faculties. I changed my tone and laughed aloud.
'So that is your plan, is it?' I said. 'The sooner we start the better,then. And the sooner I see Auch and your back turned, the more I shallbe pleased.'
He rose. 'After you, Monsieur,' he said.
I could not restrain a slight shiver. His new-born politeness alarmed memore than his threats. I knew the man and his ways, and I was sure thatit boded ill to me.
But I had no pistols, and only my sword and knife, and I knew thatresistance at this point must be worse than vain. I went out jauntily,therefore, the landlord coming after me with my saddle and bags.
The street was empty, save for the two waiting horsemen who sat in theirsaddles looking doggedly before them, The sun had not yet risen, the airwas raw. The sky was grey, cloudy, and cold. My thoughts flew back tothe morning on which I had found the sachet--at that very spot, almostat that very hour, and for a moment I grew warm again at the thought ofthe little packet I carried in my boot. But the landlord's dry manner,the sullen silence of his two companions, whose eyes steadily refusedto meet mine, chilled me again. For an instant the impulse to refuseto mount, to refuse to go, was almost irresistible; then, knowing themadness of such a course, which might, and probably would, give themen the chance they desired, I crushed it down and went slowly to mystirrup.
'I wonder you do not want my sword,' I said by way of sarcasm, as Iswung myself up.
'We are not afraid of it,' the innkeeper answered gravely. 'You may keepit--for the present.'
I made no answer--what answer had I to make?--and we rode at a footpacedown the street; he and I leading, Clon and the shock-headed manbringing up the rear. The leisurely mode of our departure, the absenceof hurry or even haste, the men's indifference whether they were seen,or what was thought, all served to sink my spirits and deepen my senseof peril. I felt that they suspected me, that they more than halfguessed the nature of my errand at Cocheforet, and that they were notminded to be bound by Mademoiselle's orders. In particular, I auguredthe worst from Clon's appearance. His lean malevolent face and sunkeneyes, his very dumbness chilled me. Mercy had no place there.
We rode soberly, so that nearly half an hour elapsed before we gainedthe brow from which I had taken my first look at Cocheforet. Amongthe dwarf oaks whence I had viewed the valley we paused to breathe ourhorses, and the strange feelings with which I looked back on the scenemay be imagined. But I had short time for indulging in sentiment orrecollections. A curt word, and we were moving again.
A quarter of a mile farther on, the road to Auch dipped into the valley.When we were already half way down this descent the innkeeper suddenlystretched out his hand and caught my rein.
'This way!' he said.
I saw that he would have me turn into a by-path leadingsouth-westwards--a mere track, faint and little trodden and encroachedon by trees, which led I knew not whither. I checked my horse.
'Why?' I said rebelliously. 'Do you think I do not know the road? Theroad we are in is the way to Auch.'
'To Auch--yes,' he answered bluntly. 'But we are not going to Auch,'
'Whither then?' I said angrily.
'You will see presently,' he replied with an ugly smile.
'Yes, but I will know now!' I retorted, passion getting the better ofme. 'I have come so far with you. You will find it more easy to take mefarther if you tell me your plans.'
'You are a fool!' he cried with a snarl.
'Not so,' I answered. 'I ask only to know whither I am going.'
'Into Spain,' he said. 'Will that satisfy you?'
'And what will you do with me there?' I asked, my heart giving a greatbound.
'Hand you over to some friends of ours,' he answered curtly, 'if youbehave yourself. If not, there is a shorter way, and one that will s
aveus some travelling. Make up your mind, Monsieur. Which shall it be?'
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