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"Listen, Jean. I am not trusting Father Bertrand without knowing that what he says is true," said Herrick earnestly. "Now I want to know who are my friends, whom I can trust; so I sent for you."
"The only friend you have in Vayenne," said Jean.
"You forget Mademoiselle de Liancourt and Captain Lemasle."
"Who are not in Vayenne, friend Roger, however friendly they may be.
There are orders to arrest Captain Lemasle."
"Treachery must be met with cunning, and the time is short," said Herrick. "By this they are no doubt safe within the city. I will tell you the whole story soon, but there is no time now; there is work to do to-night."
Jean shook his head, one eye shut the while.
"Cannot you trust me?" Herrick asked.
"Not your wisdom. You talk of using cunning, but many as wise a man as you are has thought himself cunning, and been the victim all the time.
I have no relish for pulling an oar in the same boat with Father Bertrand. I've been in Vayenne longer than you have, friend Roger, and know him better than you do."
"Listen, Jean. It is Father Bertrand who has told things to me, not I to him," said Herrick. "He does not know the whole story of the attack in the forest as I have told it to you; he does not know what has happened to Duke Maurice, nor of Mademoiselle, nor of Captain Lemasle.
He knows nothing of what I want you to do to-night."
The dwarf was on his feet in an instant.
"Good, friend Roger, good! I see the smile of the fox on your face now. What is the work? I am content to hear the rest of your story another time."
"Do you know the house of the Countess Elisabeth?" asked Herrick.
"The outside of it."
"You must get in on some pretext, and see Mademoiselle de Liancourt."
"Faith! She has chosen as strange a hiding-place as you have."
"It was of her own choosing," said Herrick. "See her. Say you come from me. Say that she must remain in hiding until I send to her again; that Count Felix must be allowed to believe that Duke Maurice is dead.
Tell her that since leaving her in the forest I have learned that which makes me certain that Count Felix will never be crowned. Can you remember the message?"
Jean repeated it, marking each item off on his fingers.
"And what have I to say to Captain Lemasle?" he asked.
"Tell him to wait for a message from me," said Herrick.
"You must have impressed him greatly, friend Roger, to command him in this fas.h.i.+on. He's a man more easily led than driven."
"And one thing more," said Herrick, who was too busy thinking of all it was necessary to tell to notice the dwarf's comment. "You will not say where I am. They do not know what has happened since I left them.
They might not understand my being in Father Bertrand's house."
"Then we are all in the dark until it pleases friend Roger to open the door," said Jean. "Well, since you undertake giants' work, it is hardly strange you should set about it in queer fas.h.i.+on. For all our sakes I pray your wisdom is as great as your courage."
At Herrick's summons the man in the ca.s.sock came and took Jean to the street door again, closing it gently behind him without a word.
It was quite dark now, and the dim lamps at intervals only served to cast deep, gloomy shadows across the Rue St. Romain. The dwarf stood still for some moments, looking up and down the street, and his sharp eyes searched the shadows. He was not certain, but one particular spot did not satisfy him; he thought a man stood there. He expected to be watched and followed, for he had little faith in Father Bertrand. Jean was even surprised with himself for believing Roger Herrick so easily, for he placed small reliance on any man's disinterestedness. He moved away slowly, and was soon aware that he had not been mistaken, that he was being followed.
"He must know Vayenne well if he hopes to keep me in sight," chuckled the dwarf to himself as he turned sharply into a narrow alley and began the task of losing his enemy. For half an hour he dodged round corners, up dark alleys, and across small streets, returning at the end of that time to a spot close to the Rue St. Romain; and he chuckled to think of the dance he had led his follower.
Mercier did know Vayenne well, however, he was perhaps the very last man in the city to be deceived by such tactics, and no sooner had the dwarf set out on a more direct route, than he came from a turning and went after him.
Jean was crossing one of the larger streets, which was well lighted, on his way to the Place Beauvoisin, when half a dozen soldiers suddenly caught sight of him.
"Well met, Jean," cried one, grasping his arm. "Where have you been roosting? The Count has been sending everywhere to find you to-day and yesterday."
"For what?"
"n.o.body knows why--maybe to make a captain of you. But this we know, that he's promised silver enough to the man that finds you to pay for a merry night at the tavern. So you must come with us."
"That's certain," answered one of his companions, taking Jean's other arm.
Why should he be sought for? The wounded sentry must have gathered some of his scattered wits and remembered something of the spy's escape from the South Tower.
"The Count honors me," he said; "and if he makes a captain of me, we'll have merry times. I'll come with you; but at the top of the street yonder is the Barbe Noire, where is good liquor, and I have the wherewithal to pay. What say you? The Count is in no such hurry that he cannot wait another hour after waiting two days."
"The Barbe Noire let it be," they cried; and with Jean in their midst, they went up the street, Mercier following them.
But they drank no ale or wine at the Barbe Noire that night. Within a hundred yards of it there was a side street leading to the old markets, around which there was a perfect network of alleys and byways. As they came abreast of this street, the dwarf suddenly wrenched his arms free, dropped to the ground, and catching one of the soldiers by the legs, pitched him over his back among his comrades, and in a moment was rus.h.i.+ng along the side street. In antic.i.p.ation of the drink, and believing that the dwarf had no desire to get away from them, the soldiers were unprepared for this man[oe]uvre, and were utterly taken by surprise; so that the dwarf had travelled some distance before they took up the pursuit. For the second time that night Jean's ingenuity was taxed to lose his enemies.
The pursuit was not long confined to the soldiers. Mercier was the first to join in it, and then some idlers about the corners of the old markets began to run, until presently a mob of forty or fifty were making the streets echo with their hurrying feet.
Jean had not enough advantage in the race to enable him to deliberate which way he should take. He had no desire to draw his pursuers into the Place Beauvoisin where, even if he succeeded in eluding them, they might watch for a long time, and prevent his gaining entrance to the Countess Elisabeth's house. But presently there seemed no other way for him to take with any reasonable hope of safety. He entered the square by a narrow thoroughfare close to the high wall which surrounded the house, and had a moment's respite before the crowd turned the corner. Adjoining the high wall there was a lower one, surrounding a yard. To run across the square and escape by the other entrance would carry him into well-lighted streets, where a hundred others might join in the chase, and where he was almost certain to be captured. His decision was taken in an instant. With a spring, such as some great ape might make, he was upon this lower wall, and another bound took him to the top of the high wall. No light shone upon it, and he lay down along it full length upon his stomach. A moment later, the crowd was rus.h.i.+ng past underneath him.
A pause was made when no one was seen flying across the square, and a dozen voices began to shout advice. He had done this! He had done that! He had never entered the square! He had managed to cross it before they had got in! It was a babel of tongues, everybody shouting, no one listening.
Jean had seen no one as he sprang on to the wall, but the crowd saw a man in the square, and rushed toward him.
"Which way did he go?" they cried.
Jean ventured to raise his head a little. He could not hear the man's answer, but since the crowd did not rush back to the wall, he concluded that either the man had not noticed him, or had no intention of betraying him.
There was a moment's silence, and then a voice cried out:
"We've lost the little game, but we catch the larger. It's Lemasle, and there's an order for his arrest!"
In an instant there was a struggling ma.s.s of humanity. So closely and so suddenly was Lemasle pressed, that there was no opportunity to use any weapon. The dwarf ached to go to his a.s.sistance, but that would have meant the capture of both of them. That would be worse than useless. So Jean remained motionless on the wall.
Lemasle said not a word. He struck out right and left for a few moments, and one or two had reason enough to regret that they had ever joined in the chase; but numbers overpowered him. Then as they succeeded in binding his arms, he laughed.
"Tell me," he said, "whom were you hunting when you chanced upon me?"
"That devil of St. Etienne," said a soldier, with an oath.
"Such a devil plays the saint sometimes, and perhaps he'll tell all my friends where I am. Faith! half the city should be knocking at the castle for my release before noon to-morrow."