Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Part 16

I made ready slowly, and would gladly, to gain time, have found some fault with the place. But the sun was sufficiently high to give no advantage to either. The ground was good, the spot well chosen. I could find no excuse to put off the man, and I was about to salute him and fall to work, when a thought crossed my mind.

"One moment!" I said. "Supposing I kill you, M. le Capitaine, what becomes of your errand here?"

"Don't trouble yourself," he answered, with a sneer--he had misread my slowness and hesitation. "It will not happen, Monsieur. And in any case the thought need not hara.s.s you. I have a lieutenant."

"Yes, but what of my mission?" I replied bluntly. "I have no lieutenant."

"You should have thought of that before you interfered with my boots,"

he retorted, with contempt.

"True," I said, overlooking his manner. "But better late than never. I am not sure, now I think of it, that my duty to Monseigneur will let me fight."

"You will swallow the blow?" he cried, spitting on the ground offensively. "_Diable!_" And the lieutenant, standing on one side with his hands behind him and his shoulders squared, laughed grimly.

"I have not made up my mind," I answered irresolutely.

"Well, _nom de Dieu!_ make it up," the captain replied, with an ugly sneer. He took a swaggering step this way and that, playing his weapon. "I am afraid, Lieutenant, there will be no sport to-day," he continued, in a loud aside. "Our c.o.c.k has but a chicken heart."

"Well!" I said coolly, "I do not know what to do. Certainly it is a fine day, and a fair piece of ground. And the sun stands well. But I have not much to gain by killing you, M. le Capitaine, and it might get me into an awkward fix. On the other hand, it would not hurt me to let you go."

"Indeed?" he said contemptuously, looking at me as I should look at a lacquey.

"No!" I replied. "For if you were to say that you had struck Gil de Berault, and left the ground with a whole skin, no one would believe you."

"Gil de Berault!" he exclaimed, frowning.

"Yes, Monsieur," I replied suavely. "At your service. You did not know my name?"

"I thought your name was De Barthe," he said. His voice sounded queerly; and he waited for the answer with parted lips, and a shadow in his eyes which I had seen in men's eyes before.

"No," I said. "That was my mother's name, I took it for this occasion only."

His florid cheek lost a shade of its colour, and he bit his lips as he glanced at the lieutenant, trouble in his eyes. I had seen these signs before, and knew them, and I might have cried "Chicken-heart!" in my turn; but I had not made a way of escape for him--before I declared myself--for nothing, and I held to my purpose. "I think you will allow now," I said grimly, "that it will not harm me even if I put up with a blow!"

"M. de Berault's courage is known," he muttered.

"And with reason," I said. "That being so, suppose we say this day three months, M. le Capitaine? The postponement to be for my convenience."

He caught the lieutenant's eye, and looked down sullenly, the conflict in his mind as plain as daylight. He had only to insist, and I must fight; and if by luck or skill he could master me, his fame as a duellist would run, like a ripple over water, through every garrison town in France and make him a name even in Paris. On the other side were the imminent peril of death, the gleam of cold steel already in fancy at his breast, the loss of life and suns.h.i.+ne, and the possibility of a retreat with honour, if without glory. I read his face, and knew before he spoke what he would do.

"It appears to me that the burden is with you," he said huskily; "but for my part, I am satisfied."

"Very well," I said, "I take the burden. Permit me to apologize for having caused you to strip unnecessarily. Fortunately the sun is s.h.i.+ning."

"Yes," he said gloomily. And he took his clothes from the sundial, and began to put them on. He had expressed himself satisfied; but I knew that he was feeling very ill-satisfied with himself, and I was not surprised when he presently said abruptly and almost rudely, "There is one thing I think we must settle here."

"What is that?" I asked.

"Our positions," he blurted out. "Or we shall cross one another again within the hour."

"Umph! I am not quite sure that I understand," I said.

"That is precisely what I don't do--understand!" he retorted, in a tone of surly triumph. "Before I came on this duty, I was told that there was a gentleman here, bearing sealed orders from the Cardinal to arrest M. de Cocheforet; and I was instructed to avoid collision with him so far as might be possible. At first I took you for the gentleman. But the plague take me if I understand the matter now."

"Why not?" I said coldly.

"Because--well, the matter is in a nutsh.e.l.l!" he answered impetuously.

"Are you here on behalf of Madame de Cocheforet to s.h.i.+eld her husband?

Or are you here to arrest him? That is what I don't understand, M. de Berault."

"If you mean, am I the Cardinal's agent--I am!" I answered sternly.

"To arrest M. de Cocheforet?"

"To arrest M. de Cocheforet."

"Well--you surprise me," he said.

Only that; but he spoke so drily that I felt the blood rush to my face. "Take care, Monsieur," I said severely. "Do not presume too far on the inconvenience to which your death might put me."

He shrugged his shoulders. "No offence!" he said. "But you do not seem, M. de Berault, to comprehend the difficulty. If we do not settle things now, we shall be bickering twenty times a day!"

"Well, what do you want?" I asked impatiently.

"Simply to know how you are going to proceed. So that our plans may not clash."

"But surely, M. le Capitaine, that is my affair!" I replied.

"The clas.h.i.+ng?" he answered bitterly. Then he waved aside my wrath.

"Pardon," he said, "the point is simply this: How do you propose to find him if he is here?"

"That again is my affair," I answered.

He threw up his hands in despair; but in a moment his place was taken by an unexpected disputant. The lieutenant, who had stood by all the time, listening and tugging at his grey moustache, suddenly spoke.

"Look here, M. de Berault," he said, confronting me roughly, "I do not fight duels. I am from the ranks. I proved my courage at Montauban in '21, and my honour is good enough to take care of itself. So I say what I like, and I ask you plainly what M. le Capitaine doubtless has in his mind but does not ask: Are you running with the hare and hunting with the hounds in this matter? In other words, have you thrown up Monseigneur's commission in all but name and become Madame's ally; or--it is the only other alternative--are you getting at the man through the women?"

"You villain!" I cried, glaring at him in such a rage and fury I could scarcely get the words out. This was plain speaking with a vengeance!

"How dare you! How dare you say that I am false to the hand that pays me?"

I thought he would blench, but he did not. He stood up stiff as a poker. "I do not say; I ask!" he replied, facing me squarely, and slapping his fist into his open hand to drive home his words the better. "I ask you whether you are playing the traitor to the Cardinal? Or to these two women? It is a simple question."

I fairly choked. "You impudent scoundrel," I said.

"Steady, steady!" he replied. "Pitch sticks where it belongs. But that is enough. I see which it is, M. le Capitaine; this way a moment, by your leave."

And in a very cavalier way he took his officer by the arm, and drew him into a side-walk, leaving me to stand in the sun, bursting with anger and spleen. The gutter-bred rascal! That such a man should insult me, and with impunity! In Paris I might have made him fight, but here it was impossible. I was still foaming with rage when they returned.

"We have come to a determination," the lieutenant said, tugging his grey mustachios and standing like a ramrod. "We shall leave you the house and Madame, and you can take your line to find the man. For ourselves, we shall draw off our men to the village, and we shall take our line. That is all, M. le Capitaine, is it not?"