For The Admiral Part 35

Who was he? What was his secret? How did it concern me? These and a dozen similar questions ran through my mind as I stood there watching him die, and quite helpless to obtain the information I needed. Once or twice he stirred uneasily; his eyes opened; his fingers strayed uncertainly over the bed as if seeking something that had gone astray, and presently he said quite distinctly, but very, very faintly, "Le Blanc! Monsieur Le Blanc!"

"He is here," said the cure softly. "This is Monsieur Le Blanc. What have you to tell him?"

I do not know if the man heard; his eyes remained open; his fingers were still fumbling among the bedclothes; a frown clouded his forehead, and presently he whispered, but to himself, not to us, "The note! I can't find it. It has gone."

I bent over, him, placing my hand on his brow. "The note?" I said, "tell me about it. Who gave it you? Come, who gave you the note that is lost?"

My question produced an effect, but not the one I intended. The angry scowl spread over his face; the dying eyes filled with pa.s.sion; the voice became quite strong again as the man cried angrily, "I did not lose it. I earned my money. It was stolen. They set on me--three of them--they were too many--I--I--"

A great hush fell across us, and we gazed at each other blankly. "It is too late," said the cure; "he has carried his secret to the grave."

"Is he dead?"

"Dead, monsieur."

"We must make inquiries," I murmured. "Urie shall show us the place where he found the body. Come, Jacques, we can do no good here."

"I will follow in a few minutes, monsieur. I wish to discover if there is anything by which we can identify the stranger."

Urie and I went out together, but the keenest search failed to help us.

The dead man's horse had disappeared, and his a.s.sailants had left no trace behind them. I questioned the villagers closely, but none could throw any light on the tragedy. The victim was unknown to them, and no one had seen any strange persons in the neighbourhood. Jacques, too, was at fault, having failed to find anything in the stranger's clothing that would tend to solve the mystery.

"It is a curious thing, monsieur," he remarked that evening. "A dead body on the highroad is not an uncommon sight, but this man was coming to you on a special errand."

"It is evident he was bringing me a letter. The question is--did his murderers kill him to obtain possession of it?"

"The note has disappeared."

"True, and I am inclined to think it was the possession of the letter that cost him his life. Now, who are the persons likely to write to me?

My sister--but we can dismiss her--one doesn't commit murder for a page of ordinary gossip."

"No," said Jacques, "I do not think the poor fellow was a messenger from Mademoiselle Jeanne."

"There is Monsieur Bellievre! He is at Court and aware of what is going on there. Is it likely that he has heard some favourable news, and--"

"Ah, monsieur," Jacques broke in hastily, "our thoughts are the same.

These cut-throats are in the pay of Etienne Cordel, and in killing this poor fellow they have struck at you. But how, I cannot understand."

"We know that Cordel has friends at Court," I continued. "Let us suppose for an instant that the king has agreed to sign the papers; the lawyer would learn the news quickly enough."

"Yes, monsieur," agreed Jacques, "that is so. But how does that help us?"

"Thus. Monsieur Bellievre or the Admiral writes, giving me the information, and advising me to return. I arrive at Blois, or wherever the Court may be; the papers are signed, and Cordel's chance of the estates has vanished. He certainly might kill me afterwards, but it could be only in revenge."

"But, monsieur, the news could not have been kept from you for long.

Besides, the journey to Blois would have given the lawyer the very chance he wanted. It would have suited him better for the letter to have reached you. Then his ruffians would have waited, and have waylaid you on the road."

"He might not have thought of that!"

"It would not have needed much cunning, monsieur!"

"There is just one other solution possible," I said. "You remember the man who came here on the night of the wild storm? You did not recognize him, but--"

"I am hardly likely to forget the man who tried hard to kill both of us!" interrupted Jacques.

"You have kept your knowledge very close then!" I replied.

"I had no wish to pry into your secrets, monsieur."

"It was not exactly a secret. Something happened while you were with the Count of St Cyr. I had this man's life in my hand, and spared it."

Jacques shrugged his shoulders as if to imply that he had hardly thought me capable of acting so foolishly.

"He is in Monseigneur's service, and, as you know, came to warn me against Etienne Cordel. He promised, if he could ferret out the lawyer's schemes, to write to me."

"Do you really trust this fellow, monsieur?"

"He bears no love to those of the Religion," I answered; "but for me personally I believe he would lay down his life."

"Very good," said Jacques, as if argument was utterly useless against such folly.

"I was thinking it possible that in coming to or going from Le Blanc he was recognized. If so, the lawyer would be put on his guard."

"There is certainly something in that, monsieur."

"And if he sent me a warning message, it would be to Cordel's interest to secure it."

"'Twould be easy to test the truth of the matter," said Jacques. "This fellow will be with Monseigneur; let me go to him, and put the question directly. In that way, if you are right, we shall get at the lawyer's schemes in spite of his villainy. I will not loiter on the road, and I don't see how any danger can happen to you before my return."

We talked the plan over, and at length I agreed that Jacques should start on the journey the next morning. I gave him the name of my strange friend, and he promised to get to work with the utmost caution.

"It is possible," I remarked, "you will find him at Blois, and in that case you will have an opportunity of talking with Monsieur Bellievre.

Tell him that Mademoiselle Jeanne is accompanying the Queen of Navarre."

He went to the stables, and I did not see him again until just before my time for going to bed, when he returned looking gloomy and troubled.

"I have been thinking, monsieur," he said rather shamefacedly, "and I am beginning to doubt the wisdom of my advice. If Cordel's ruffians are close at hand, my going away will make their work easier. Now that it comes to the point I do not like leaving you, and that is the truth."

"That's a poor compliment, Jacques!" I laughed; "evidently you don't think I can take care of myself."

"The poor fellow they brought here this morning was as strong as you, and had as much experience, but he is dead all the same."

"I will take care, Jacques; I will go only into the village, and if it will make you feel more easy, Urie shall sleep here at night all the time you are away."

He was somewhat relieved by this promise, and his face brightened considerably.

"Let Urie bring an iron bar," he laughed, "and a man need wear a thick steel cap to save his skull!"