Orrain Part 39

"The Chatelet."

"And mademoiselle?"

"I know not. I know not if she is alive or dead."

Le Brusquet groaned. "That is the worst tale of all. Orrain, I think, we can save."

"How so?"

For answer Le Brusquet held up my ring. "With this talisman!" And slipping it on his finger he continued: "It is not for nothing that I studied law at the College of Cambrai. As first prince of the blood, Vendome can claim Orrain from the Chatelet. If he has any grat.i.tude he will do so."

"I never thought of that. I saw the prisoners taken to the Chatelet.

There were two, Orrain and La Mothe, who is as well known to be of the prince's household as Vendome himself is known to be a heretic."

"Yes; a heretic too great to be touched. But he must pay his debts. I am going at once to see Vendome. Stay here if you like. You know where to find the wine. No, Pompon, not to-night!" And pus.h.i.+ng back the ape, who had made ready to follow him, he went off.

It was gay that night in the salon of La Valentinois. The Queen had gone to St. Germain-en-Laye, where the royal children were, and all those who could had flocked to the apartments of the favourite, to pay their court to the crescent moon. The King had retired earlier than usual, for he meant to hunt on the morrow; but his absence only made the revelry more unrestrained. The card-tables were full, and at one of them sat Diane herself, playing with Caraffa against Vendome and the Marshal St. Andre, and surrounded by a crowd who watched the play and staked amongst themselves upon the game. Immediately behind her stood De Mouchy, in the ermine and red of his office, and ever and again a whispered word pa.s.sed between the twain.

There was a pile of gold before Vendome, who was playing recklessly but with wonderful fortune. His face was flushed and his speech thick, for the goblet on the small service-table at his elbow was ever being filled, and emptied as fast as refilled. Nevertheless, he won each time, though he seemed to fling his cards down on the table without a look or thought.

"The G.o.ds are with me," he exclaimed loudly as he pulled off a _coup_, made utterly by hazard, and drew the stakes towards him.

Diane laughed gaily, but the red fox Caraffa was a bad loser.

"Monseigneur," he said with a snarl, "there is a proverb about luck at cards."

"I know," was the swift and unexpected reply. "Mistrust thy fortune when the knave and the Church are together." And Vendome pointed to the card the Legate had just played.

There was a t.i.tter all around; but Diane's white arm was stretched forth, and she tapped Vendome with her fan.

"Fie, Monseigneur! Your wit is too cruel. His Eminence but referred to the old saw: lucky at cards, unlucky in love."

The prince gallantly kissed her jewelled hand. "Madame, that is true, for until I met you I never knew how unlucky I was."

La Valentinois did not note the glance in Vendome's eye, and, vain as a peac.o.c.k, blushed as she alone could blush. But a murmured word from De Mouchy caught her ear, and leaning back in her chair, her face half turned towards De Mouchy, and her fan outspread between herself and the prince, she asked in a quick whisper:

"Is it over?"

"Yes! He has come."

As De Mouchy spoke the crowd parted, and the Vidame appeared, and bowed before Diane.

"It was impossible to come sooner, madame; I had a little affair, and it was necessary to change my attire."

"A successful affair, I trust, Monsieur le Vidame."

Simon was about to answer, but a high-pitched voice broke in: "More successful than even the Vidame's great feat of arms in the forest of Fontevrault." And Le Brusquet made his way through the press, and stood behind the prince's chair.

Diane rose from her seat, and Simon glared at Le Brusquet, whilst a dozen voices called out:

"What was that, Le Brusquet? We have not heard."

"That is owing to Monsieur le Vidame's modesty; but this feat eclipses all the others of which he is the hero. This evening the Vidame broke up the heretic church in the Mathurins; nearly all the accursed brood were slain, women as well as men; but there are still enough prisoners to give us a rare bonfire by Sat.u.r.day. Is it not so, monsieur?" And Le Brusquet turned to the Vidame.

"Is this true, Le Brusquet?" It was Vendome who asked. He too had risen, and his voice was trembling with anger.

"a.s.suredly, Monseigneur! Ask the Vidame! It was a great stroke.

Amongst others they have taken La Mothe the Christaudin----" He stopped, for the prince broke in furiously upon his speech.

"This is foul treachery! The edicts are suspended! The King's word is given!"

"And is recalled. The edicts were re-enforced to-day. It is strange, Monseigneur, that you, as the First Prince of the Blood, did not know this!"

It was impossible to mistake the insult in this speech and in Simon's manner as he made it. For a moment it was as if Vendome's hot temper would have made him forget his rank. He raised his hand as though he would have struck the Vidame; but those around Simon hustled him aside, and it was in a scene of confusion that Monseigneur turned to Diane.

"I understand all this now," he said, pointing to the card-table, covered with the scattered cards and gold, "and I know to whom I owe this. Think not, madame, to fool me longer; but remember that all the rivers in France will not quench the fires you have lit to-day."

Then calling to De Mouy, Albain, and others of his gentlemen he bowed coldly to La Valentinois, and left the room amidst a dead silence.

When he had gone a babel of tongues broke forth, and there were loud and angry cries for Le Brusquet, whose "fool's prank," as they called it, had caused this storm. Le Brusquet, however, was not to be seen.

He had stolen in, thrown his apple of discord, and stolen forth again like a ghost. None knew or understood better than he the wayward character of Vendome, and that never was the prince capable of acting with decision unless his self-love were hurt. So he had made his plan, and acted, and now stood in the shadow of a pillar in the courtyard waiting for the prince. He had not long to wait, for Vendome came storming out, almost on his heels, and called for his horse. There were quite a hundred or more gentlemen in his train, and as the horses were being brought up Le Brusquet stepped to the side of Vendome and held up his signet.

"Monseigneur," he said, "here is something of yours that has come back to you."

The prince almost s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him, and glanced at it by the light of the flambeaux. One look, and he turned to Le Brusquet.

"He too!"

"Monseigneur! In the Chatelet, where La Mothe is. Forget not your rights, Monseigneur!"

"I am not likely to! Here! A spare horse for Le Brusquet!" And he sprang into his saddle.

Someone brought up a nag, Le Brusquet mounted, and the word being given for the Chatelet they went out at a trot, the prince riding in front between De Mouy and Albain, his hat pulled over his eyes, and in silence.

Whilst all this was happening it fared ill enough with me. Though felled by the blow on my head I was not stunned, only so dazed that my recapture was an easy matter. This time no risks were taken, and with my hands tied behind me by means of a long scarf, the other end of which was looped round the high pommel of a trooper's saddle, I was perforce compelled to accompany my captors as best I could, bleeding and dizzy from my hurt.

At length we arrived at the Chatelet, followed to the very gates by the mob. As my blurred vision saw through the moonlight those sombre walls, citadel and prison at once, my heart sank. Hope was left behind in those fearful oubliettes, whose sinister names carried utter despair with them. There was the Grieche, the Barbary, the Chausse d'Hypocras, where the prisoners, ankle deep in water, were neither able to stand upright nor to sit; the Fosse, down which one was lowered by a rope, and the hideous Fin d'Aise in which no man retained his sanity. So it had come to this! And in sullen despair I stood amongst the guards, awaiting Martines' pleasure. At first it seemed as if I were the only prisoner; but any doubts on that point were soon set at rest, for another unfortunate was dragged up and placed beside me. I felt rather than saw it was La Mothe--but, unlike myself, he was not bound--and then I heard Martines ask:

"Are these the only two prisoners?"

"Monsieur!" answered a subordinate officer.

The lieutenant of the Chatelet was not an unkindly man, and muttering something about "hangman's work" he came up and surveyed us by the light of the torches. Then he ordered my hands to be freed, and drawing his subaltern aside gave him some commands in a low tone, and went off.

As Martines turned away this person directed us to follow him, and, surrounded by guards, we entered a vaulted pa.s.sage, and after descending and ascending many stairs found ourselves before a studded door, so low that even a short man would have had to stoop his shoulders to enter therein. A gaoler fumbled with the rusty lock, which for a s.p.a.ce resisted all his efforts; but at last it yielded, and the door was pushed open, clanging harshly as it swung back. Beyond lay a hideous dungeon, into which we were thrust, the officer following us with a couple of guards, one of whom carried a lantern. The light discovered a long and narrow prison, the ooze dripping from the walls, and the floor slippery with slime. A single slit in the wall, no wider than three fingers of a man's hand and about a foot in length, let in light and air. For the rest, a stone bench and a jug full of foul water completed the furniture of this terrible chamber. Faint and dizzy, I made towards the bench, and sat thereon in the shadow as the officer said:

"I must ask you to share this lodging for to-night. It is known as the Palace," he added, with a grin, and then pulling out his tablets he turned to La Mothe.