The Chevalier d'Auriac Part 35

'M. de Ba.s.sompierre and you, de Luynes, I leave the prisoners in your charge. In the meantime, messieurs, we will slightly change our plans.

I shall not go myself to the Marshal's house; but I depute you, Grand-Master, and these gentlemen here, all except de Vitry, who comes with me, to repair there in my name. Should M. de Biron not be able to see you, you will come to me--the Grand-Master knows where.'

'You will be careful, Sire,' said Sully.

'_Mordieu!_ Yes--go, gentlemen.'

I was about to follow the others, but Belin caught me by the arm as he pa.s.sed out. 'Stay where you are,' he whispered, and then we waited until the footsteps died away along the corridor, the King standing with his brows bent and muttering to himself:

'If it were not true--if it were not true.'

Suddenly he roused himself. 'Come, de Vitry--my mask and cloak; and you, too, sir,' he said, turning on me with a harsh glance. He put on his mask, drew the collar of his roquelaure up to his ears, and in a moment I recognised the silent stranger who had ridden off so abruptly from under the portico of St. Merri. I could not repress my start of surprise, and I thought I caught a strange glance in de Vitry's eyes; but the King's face was impa.s.sive as stone.

'We go out by the private stair, Sire; d'Aubusson is there with the horses.' With these words he lifted the tapestry of the wall and touched a door. It swung back of its own accord, and the King stepped forward, the Captain of the Guard and myself on his heels. When we gained the little street at the back of More's, we saw there three mounted men with three led horses.

De Vitry adjusted the King's stirrup, who sprang into the saddle in silence, and then, motioning me to do likewise, mounted himself.

'Monsieur,' said the King to me, reining in his restive horse, 'you will lead us straight to your lodging, next to the Toison d'Or.'

'Sire,' I made answer, 'but it will be necessary to leave the horses by St. Martin's, as their presence near the Toison d'Or might arouse curiosity and suspicion.'

'I understand, monsieur; have the goodness to lead on.'

I rode at the head of the small troop, nosing my way through the fog with my mind full of feelings it was impossible to describe, but with my heart beating with joy. Neither d'Aubusson nor de Vitry gave a sign that they knew me, and, but for an occasional direction that I gave to turn to the right or left, we rode in silence through the mist, now beginning to clear, and through which the moon shone with the light of a faint night lamp behind lace curtains. At St. Martin's we dismounted. There was a whispered word between the lieutenant and de Vitry, and then the King, de Vitry, and myself pressed forwards on foot, leaving d'Aubusson and the troopers with the horses. It would take too long, if indeed I have the power, to describe the tumult in my mind as we wound in and out of the cross streets and bye lanes towards the Toison d'Or. At last we came to the jaws of the blind pa.s.sage, and I whispered to de Vitry that we were there. Henry turned to de Vitry and asked:

'Are you sure the signals are understood, de Vitry?'

'Yes, Sire.'

There was no other word spoken, and keeping on the off side of the road, to avoid pa.s.sing immediately before the door of the Toison d'Or, where it was possible a guard might be set, we went onward towards my lodging. Favoured by the mist, which still hung over the pa.s.sage, we got through without accident; but I perceived that not a light glimmered from the face of Babette's house, though I could hear the bolts of the entrance-door being drawn, as if some one had entered a moment or so before we came up. My own lodging was, however, different, and through the glaze of the window we could see the sickly glare of the light in the shop, where Monsieur and Madame were no doubt discussing the business of the day.

'We must quiet my landlord and his wife,' I whispered to Vitry as we came up to the door.

'Very well,' he said, and then I knocked.

The fence, who was alone, himself opened the door. 'Ah, captain,' he exclaimed, 'we thought you were lost; but I see you have friends.' He said no more, for I seized his throat with a grip of iron, whilst de Vitry laced him up with his own belt. An improvised gag put a stop to all outcry, and in a thrice he was lying like a log amongst his own stolen wares.

'Madame is doubtless in bed,' I said to him, and a sharp scream interrupted my words, for the woman, doubtless hearing the scuffle, had rushed into the room. M. de Vitry was, however, equal to the occasion, and she, too, was deposited beside her husband.

The King, who had taken no part in these proceedings, now said:

'I trust that woman's cry will not raise an alarm--_Ventre St. Gris_ if it does!'

'Have no fear. Sire,' I said in a low tone; 'the cries of women in this part of your capital are too frequent to attract the least notice. They will but think that there has been a little conjugal difference.'

'So far, so good. De Vitry, you will stay here. At the first sound of the Grand-Master's whistle you will answer it, and they will know what to do. I have something to say to M. d'Auriac. Take me to your room, sir.'

I bowed, and, lighting a taper that stood in a holder of moulded bra.s.s--a prize that had doubtless come to my landlord through one of his clients--led the way up the rickety stairs, and stopping at the door of my chamber, opened it to let the King pa.s.s. For an instant he hesitated, fixing his keen and searching eyes on me--eyes that flashed and sparkled beneath the mask that covered half his features, and then spoke:

'M. d'Auriac, are you still an enemy of your King?'

I could make no answer; I did not know what to say, and stood, candle in hand, in silence. Then Henry laughed shortly and stepped into the room. I shut the door as I followed, and turned up the lamp on my table. Then, facing the King, I said, 'Sire, I await your orders.'

He had flung off his cloak and mask, and was leaning against the wardrobe, one hand on the hilt of his sword, and at my words he spoke slowly: 'I desire to see this room in the Toison d'Or, and to look upon the a.s.sembly that has met there with my own eyes.'

'Now, Sire?'

'Yes, now.'

'Your Majesty, it is not now possible!'

'_Ventre St. Gris!_--not possible!'

'Permit me, Sire--the only way is by this window. If your Majesty will step here, you will see the risk of it. I will go and see if they have met; but I conjure you not to make the attempt. The slightest accident would be fatal.'

'Do you think I have never scaled a rock before?' he said, craning out of the window. 'Am I a child, M. d'Auriac, or _mille tonnerres!_ because my beard is grey, am I in my dotage? I will go, sir, and thank G.o.d that for this moment I can drop the King and be a simple knight.

You can stay behind, monsieur, if you like. I go to test the truth of your words.'

'Your Majesty might save yourself the trouble. I again entreat you; your life belongs to France.'

'I know that,' he interrupted haughtily. 'No more prating, please.

Will you go first, or shall I?'

There was no answer to this. It flashed on me to call to de Vitry for aid to stop the King, but one look at those resolute features before me convinced me that such a course would be useless. I lowered the light, and then testing the ends of the ladder again and again, made the ascent as before. Leaning through the embrasure, I saw the dark figure of the King already holding on to the ladder, and he followed me, as agile as a cat. Making a long arm, I seized him by the shoulder, and with this a.s.sistance he clambered noiselessly over the parapet and lay beside me.

'Cahors over again,' he whispered; 'and that is the skylight. They burn bright lamps.'

'The easier for us to see, Sire. Creep forward softly and look.'

One by one we stole up to the skylight, and the King, raising himself, glanced in, my eyes following over his shoulders. For full five minutes we were there, hearing every word, seeing every soul, and then the King bent down softly, and, laying a hand on my shoulder, motioned me back. It was not until we reached the parapet that he said anything, and it was as if he were muttering a prayer to himself.

When we got back I helped him to dress. He did not, however, resume his roquelaure or hat, but stood playing with the hilt of his sword, letting his eye run backward and forward over the vacant s.p.a.ce in my room. At last he turned to me:

'Monsieur, you have not answered the question I put you a moment before.'

'Sire,' I answered boldly, 'is it my fault?'

He began to pull at his moustache, keeping his eyes to the ground and saying to himself, 'Sully will not be here for a little; there is time.' As for me, I took my courage in both hands and waited. So a half-minute must have pa.s.sed before he spoke again.

'Monsieur, if a gentleman has wronged another, there is only one course open. There is room enough here--take your sword and your place.'

'I--I----,' I stammered. 'Your Majesty, I do not understand.'

'I never heard that monsieur le chevalier was dense in these matters.

Come, sir, time presses--your place.'

'May my hand wither if I do,' I burst out 'I will never stand so before the King.'

'Not before the King, monsieur, but before a man who considers himself a little wronged, too. What! is d'Auriac so high that he cannot stoop to cross a blade with plain Henri de Bourbon?'