For The Admiral Part 36

I went to bed hoping to obtain a good night's rest, but the startling tragedy had weakened my nerves more than I guessed, and I lay awake a long time, wondering what the secret was that the dead man had carried with him to the grave. Was he really a messenger from L'Estang? And if so, what was the news he was bringing? I little dreamed that one of these questions was to be answered within a few hours.

We rose early; I saw that Jacques made a good breakfast, and was standing in the courtyard giving him his final instructions when we heard the clatter of hoofs, and saw a horseman coming at a gallop up the slope.

"Another visitor!" I exclaimed, "and one apparently in a desperate hurry."

Jacques dismounted, saying, "He looks as if he had been frightened half out of his wits. Stay here, monsieur, while I find out what he wants."

In a few minutes he returned with the man, who, jumping from his horse, said questioningly, "Monsieur Le Blanc?"

"Yes," I said, looking at him keenly. He might have been own brother to the poor fellow whom Urie had found by the wood. He was short but strongly built; his face was scarred; his skin red and rough through continual exposure to the weather. He carried a sword and a long knife, and a pair of pistols peeped from the holsters. Plainly he was a man accustomed to take his life in his hand.

"You have ridden fast!" I remarked, for his animal's sides were lathered with foam.

"I was paid to ride fast!" he answered surlily; "my employer feared you would have started."

"Started!" I echoed unsurprised, "whither?"

"He did not confide in me," the fellow replied, "and I didn't ask; 'twould have been no use. My orders were to ride for my life, to give you a letter, and afterwards to guide you to a certain place mentioned in the note."

"And who is your employer?"

"I had no orders to tell that; I expect he has written it down here,"

and the fellow handed me a sealed packet.

As he raised his arm I noticed a hole, apparently made by a bullet, through his cloak.

"What is the meaning of that?" I asked.

"It means," said he grimly, "that had I not received orders to make no delay on my journey, there would have been one rogue less in your part of the world, monsieur."

"You have been attacked on the road?" I said, with a swift glance at Jacques.

"The bullet went a trifle wide," he answered shortly, "but it came close enough for my comfort."

"Well," exclaimed Jacques, "a miss is as good as a mile. Come and have some breakfast, while monsieur reads his letter. Both you and the animal need food and rest."

Leaving my servant and the messenger together, I returned to my own room, and opened the packet. As I more than half expected, the letter was signed "D'Angely." It was very short, but it answered one of the questions I had been asking myself.

"Since sending my first messenger," it ran, "Monseigneur's business calls me immediately to Poictiers; so I must meet you there instead.

Start at once; you can trust the bearer."

Directly Jacques was at liberty he joined me, and I handed him the letter without comment.

"That clears up one point of the mystery," said he. "It is plain the lawyer knows he has this L'Estang to fight against; but 'tis a pity your friend does not give a hint of what is in progress. He might, for instance, have sent a description of Cordel's tools."

"Very probably he did. You forget that this letter only supplements the first one."

"Yes," said Jacques, adding, "will you go to Poictiers, monsieur?"

"I must. L'Estang may have something of importance to tell me."

"He could have written it," said Jacques. "I don't like this journey.

These a.s.sa.s.sins are on the watch. One messenger killed, and the next shot at--we can be sure they won't let you pa.s.s free."

"There are three of us," I replied lightly--"you and I and L'Estang's courier, and he seems well able to take care of himself. Let us get ready while he is resting."

CHAPTER XX

L'Estang's Courier

"The stranger rides a fine beast," remarked Jacques, as we entered the stables; "it has stood the long journey well. The grooming and feed of oats have made it as fresh as ever."

"Did he tell you his name?" I asked.

"No; he is a surly rascal. If he were to be in our company long, I should have to teach him good manners. Had I not better waken him? We shall not reach Poictiers to-night."

"Yes; tell him we are ready to start. I have no wish to pa.s.s the night at some village inn."

L'Estang's messenger was indeed a surly fellow. He came into the courtyard rubbing his eyes and grumbling at being disturbed. His patron might not reach the town before the morning, he said, and it would be better for us to make a two days' journey. His horse was tired, and likely to break down on the way.

"Little fear of that!" declared Jacques brusquely; "the beast has strength for a hundred miles yet. 'Tis as fine a creature as I have seen."

The courier looked at him with a gratified smile. "Yes," he said, brightening up, "'tis as good an animal as monsieur has in his stables."

He replaced the saddle and tightened the girths, but spent so much time over the business that Jacques was hard put to it to restrain his impatience. However, he was ready at last, and we all three rode down the slope, and along the road toward the wood.

Jacques and the courier rode together a little in the rear, and, turning round, I remarked pleasantly, "By the way, my good fellow, I suppose you have a name of your own?"

"I can't say if it's mine or not," he replied sulkily, "but men call me Casimir."

"Is this the place where you were attacked?" I asked, as we came to the wood.

The fellow returned no answer, but, suddenly seizing his pistol and spurring his horse cruelly, he dashed to the front and disappeared. A minute or two later, we heard a loud report, and Jacques and I gazed at each other in amazement.

"Your friend sent you a pretty guide, monsieur," said Jacques; "the fellow must be crazy!"

"He fancied, perhaps, that he perceived one of his a.s.sailants."

"I saw nothing, and heard nothing; but he is coming back. Well, my friend, did you get a successful shot?"

"No," replied Casimir, who seemed angry at his own clumsiness, "I missed. But there are more days than one in a week, and my turn will come yet! Did you get a good view of the fellow, monsieur?"

I admitted that I had neither seen nor heard any one, at which he cried scornfully: "'Tis plain I shall have to be eyes and ears for the party.

He was half hidden by yonder tree, but I saw the barrel of his arquebus.

Had I known I was to be dragged into your quarrels, I would have stayed in Paris!"